“Research?” Kimberly asked. “Or experience?”

“Research,” Quincy stated. “If it was experience, we’d see even more details in the notes and the phone calls. There is enough roughness around the edges to reveal someone in the infancy of his crime spree. But don’t mistake inexperience for stupidity. The subject has gone out of his way to be prepared. And, as someone who views himself as the master of the game, he’s doing everything in his power to remain one step ahead of the police.”

Quincy took a deep breath. “All of this leads me to the following profile: We are looking for a white male in his mid-twenties to mid-thirties-the average age we see for predators beginning their crime sprees. Of above-average intelligence, he attended college, but did not graduate. He is very articulate and it’s quite possible that he’s in a stable relationship with a woman who is beautiful but submissive-this is not a man who would tolerate being challenged by a mate. The subject is of lower socioeconomic means, but holds himself above his neighbors; he may live in a trailer park, for example, but he does not consider himself trailer trash. The subject also has some connection with Rainie Conner, but I caution against using that as an investigative tool, as that connection may only exist in his head.”

“Stalker,” Kincaid stated.

“Exactly. The subject is very neat and well groomed. Appearances are extremely important to him. At face value, neighbors will claim him to be very smart, handsome, and upwardly mobile. Closer digging, however, will reveal a pattern of ‘never quite succeeding.’ For example, he got into college, but something happened-say, a parent died-forcing him to drop out. He had a great job, but something happened-say, the company declared bankruptcy-and he was laid off. Our brilliant subject was doing brilliantly, until something not under his control caused him to fail. The past is never his fault and the future is always an opportunity waiting to happen. Recently, there has been another one of these major life changes. Given the financial element of a ransom case, I would theorize that he lost his job. Statistically speaking, however, pregnancy, childbirth, and the end of a long-term relationship are also common predicators of criminal behavior.”

“Sounds a little like Stanley Carpenter,” Kincaid said. “High-school educated, blue-collar job, subservient wife. Physically controlling, and maybe just a tad stressed out by the addition of his new foster child.”

“I wouldn’t mind digging a little deeper into Stanley’s alibi,” Quincy agreed. “He’s older than I would like, however, with a steadier lifestyle-he’s held the same job, had the same wife, and lived in the same house for a long time now. The subject we’re looking for is less emotionally mature. He aspires to a lifestyle much more dazzling than Stanley Carpenter’s, while not possessing the follow-through to be able to deliver on that dream.

“People around this man will like him, but they may not trust him. The more streetwise ones will sense in him the soul of a con man. In fact, he probably has committed a string of shady financial dealings, if not outright cons. But what this man is really about isn’t scamming money-he’s selling himself, an image of himself. He’s working very, very hard so that no one will recognize the monster he harbors inside.”

“The notes,” Kincaid said. “He keeps claiming he’s not a monster.”

“Exactly. Which is the most important clue in these letters. From the very beginning, the subject has gone out of his way to assert that he’s not a pervert, not a monster. He claims it’s about money. But where is money in these messages? Most kidnappers include long, detailed instructions about the ransom drop. What kind of denominations, how the bills must be packaged. They’re fantasizing about the payoff and that anticipation is conveyed in everything they do.

“Not this subject. His communications revolve around two things-I’m not a monster, but you must obey me, or I will become a monster. I will do bad things. It will be your fault. ”

“He’s looking for a scapegoat,” Kimberly breathed.

“He’s a psychopath,” Quincy said steadily. “He recognizes it in himself. He’s drawn to murderers such as the Fox and Nathan Leopold. I don’t think he’s killed yet-if he has, it was probably accidental. But he fantasizes about killing. He wants to feel powerful, and what is more omnipotent than taking another person’s life?”

“Granting another person life,” Candi muttered.

Quincy smiled faintly. “Touché. But that’s not what drives our subject. His impulses are already dark and violent. Kidnapping a woman, holding her bound and gagged, is the first step in his fantasy. Maybe he told himself it was about money. Maybe he convinced himself it really was a ransom case. But there are a lot of ways to make money. From a psychological perspective, why abduct a human being? Furthermore, why a woman? He’s going someplace else with this, even if he can’t admit it yet.”

“You think she’s dead!” Kincaid said, stunned.

“No. Not yet.” Quincy’s voice had dropped. He took a steadying breath. If he kept this objective, about an unnamed victim, he could function. If he at any point in time remembered she was his wife, he would collapse.

“The subject wants us to make this easy for him,” he said quietly. “He wants us to give him an excuse, any excuse, so he can do what he really wants to do, while blaming someone else. That’s how he works. He’s always in control, but nothing is ever his fault.

“When he calls tomorrow”-Quincy looked at Kimberly-“he’s going to give you a long list of instructions. They will be logistically complicated, nearly impossible to follow. You”-his gaze switched to Candi-“will be put in the awkward position of trying to clarify his demands while buying us more time. He will get angry very quickly. He will accuse us of breaking the rules for failing to do what he says. He will become openly hostile and threaten to kill both victims: We give him no choice.”

Candi was no longer looking bored. “Shit.”

“Whatever happens, you must make him believe that Kimberly is doing as he’s instructed. You must never imply that his orders are too hard, or too fast, or too inconvenient. Of course, at the same time, you will need to have him repeat things again and again, because Kimberly probably will be lost and/or confused.”

“Can I offer him more money? You know, a reward for his patience?”

Quincy thought about it. “No, money isn’t what he wants. It’s fame, recognition. Headlines, that’s what we need.”

“Adam Danicic?” Kincaid asked with a frown.

“No, the subject has already reached out to Danicic-we’re not giving him anything he can’t get on his own. We need someone bigger, maybe an investigative journalist or popular columnist for The Oregonian. Someone whose name is immediately recognizable and yet can be successfully impersonated by Lieutenant Mosley.”

“What, you don’t want the real journalist present?” Kincaid deadpanned.

“That will be our bait. We have a very important journalist in the room who came all the way to Bakersville to talk to the subject himself. This is the UNSUB’s big chance to get on the record. To tell everyone his story. And of course, to prove he’s not a monster by letting the journalist speak directly to both victims.”

Kimberly started to nod. “That might work. It gives Rainie and Dougie fresh value as hostages. He’s getting to manipulate the police, as well as garner more attention.”

“It’s not a guarantee, of course. Remember, our subject just craves attention. He doesn’t care if it’s positive or negative.”

“You think he would harm them with a journalist on the line?” Kincaid asked sharply.

Quincy could only shrug. “There are serial killers out there mailing trophies from their victims to local papers. Welcome to the media age. It really is about fame, fortune, and apple pie.”

“Coming to a reality TV show near you,” Kincaid muttered.

“Let’s not give the TV execs any ideas.”

Quincy gathered up his notes, sliding them all back into his legal pad. He saw the name Lucas Bensen again, but still didn’t say a word.

“So what do we do now?” Candi asked.

Kincaid slapped his binder shut. “Now,” the lead investigator replied, “we get some sleep.”