The program continued to flash thorough, detailed images, which everyone silently studied, looking down occasionally to take notes.

Alec never looked down. He kept his attention focused on the photos, waiting for something about them to click with him. He’d spent three years as a profile coordinator in the Richmond field office before transferring up to Quantico last year. And one thing he’d learned was that every murder scene had a story to tell. Once he’d spotted the right opening into that story, it often unfolded in his head with remarkable clarity.

In this one, it was the victims’ vehicle. It had been photographed as it was being removed from the lake, as well as once it was onshore. There was something about it, something unexpected.

“I’d say we’re looking at a single unsub, acting on his own,” Alec murmured, realizing what had been bothering him.

Six pairs of eyes shifted in his direction.

“Quite a leap, don’t you think, based on nothing but some crime scene photos?” Stokes said, one brow raised in skepticism.

“They were lured to the scene and killed almost right away.”

“So?”

“So the unsub wasn’t sure he could overpower and manage a pair of strong, lacrosse-playing teenage boys for any length of time.”

“We think he was expecting only one of the boys to be there, and the other might have been an unexpected complication,” Blackstone said. “But please continue, Alec. Jason Todd was, indeed, a big, strong young man, so your reasoning could still be correct.”

More certain now, Alec said, “That makes it even more likely. Our suspect caused an accident to surprise or incapacitate his intended victim, Jason, again suggesting he wasn’t sure he could handle a single boy for long, and he didn’t have assistance.”

“An accident?” Stokes wasn’t giving up. “How do you figure? You can see in the pictures of the car there was no air bag deployment. For all we know, the kids parked, got out, and walked into someone with a gun and he pushed the car in the lake.”

Alec shook his head. “Look at the damage. The car impacted something on the side.” He narrowed his eyes, studying the picture harder. “That’s a Riviera. They stopped making them in, oh, 1999, I think. No side air bags.”

“Now he’s a car expert?” the woman mumbled.

Alec ignored her, figuring he was getting a little new-kid treatment. “The suspect could have blocked the road, forcing the driver to swerve to avoid the obstacle. From there, the car probably spun sideways into one of those trees near the shoreline.”

“Maybe our suspect didn’t have anything to do with the crash,” offered Mulrooney. He leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Coulda stumbled across it, pretended to be a bystander, then whammo.”

“Whammo? You’re saying some random psychopath stumbled across two helpless, injured crash victims and murdered them because he didn’t have anything better to do that night?” Taggert shot back. He rolled his eyes in irritation. “Who are we looking for here, Freddy Krueger? That shit only happens in teenage slasher movies and Girl Scouts campfire stories.”

Mulrooney chuckled, which was when Alec pegged their relationship. The older agent was blustery and obviously liked to taunt bears. The bear, in this case, being Dean Taggert.

“If we could continue,” Blackstone interjected smoothly. Everyone quieted down, if not convinced of Alec’s assertion, at least no longer arguing about it. One thing Alec noted: Nobody questioned whether his point made a damn bit of difference. Because they all knew it did. Knowing whether they were dealing with one unsub or multiple ones could mean the difference between a weeklong investigation and a six-month-long one.

Surprisingly, it was the single-suspect situation that could drag things out. Accomplices tended to talk to somebody, so pairs or groups were usually easier to catch.

“I believe Special Agent Lambert could be correct,” the team leader said. “Judging by some residual paint discovered on a tree near the water, the car might have crashed into it.”

Though not surprised, Alec was relieved his instincts hadn’t dulled with the months of inactivity. He also couldn’t help wondering why Blackstone had let him theorize if he knew all along the car had crashed. But hell, the guy was whispered to be almost supernaturally perceptive. Maybe he just knew Alec needed to start believing he was any damn good at this job anymore.

“And yes, we are looking at one suspect, and he typically acts alone.”

The tension in the room rose, everyone realizing Blackstone had more to tell them.

“This is somebody we know?” asked Brandon Cole, who’d been silent until this point.

Nodding, Blackstone clicked a few keys again, changing the image on the screen to an enlarged shot of a single-spaced page of text. An e-mail. Alec read it quickly, wondering what some Internet scam that had landed in his in-box a hundred times had to do with their case.

Confirming everyone had finished, Blackstone typed again and the image flashed forward. Several e-mails appeared now, many of them signed, “Jason.” And a few, “Your friend, Dr. Waffi.” The doctor reminded his friend to come alone to their meeting.

Hence the unexpected complication-Ryan Smith.

It was the “your friend, Dr. Waffi” that got Alec’s instincts sizzling. He shifted in his chair, leaning forward to drop his forearms onto the surface of the broad, pitted oak table gouged with the shadows of decades’ worth of handwritten notes. He tried to catch the random thoughts winging through his head but was unable to do it right away.

“These e-mails were retrieved from Jason Todd’s computer during the days before the bodies were discovered. The local police had at first assumed they were dealing with a pair of teen runaways, which is why the media hasn’t been all over this.”

Two kidnapped teen boys would have made national news. Two runaways not even a blip on the radar.

“Once Jason’s parents discovered these messages, the police began to take things more seriously. You can follow the e-mails sequentially and see he was taken in by a get-rich-quick scheme.”

It appeared Jason Todd truly believed some foreign diplomat was going to give him millions of dollars to help him get to hidden bank accounts. God, it was hard to believe anyone, even a teenager, would fall for one of the oldest scams on the Net.

“So the e-mails are directly tied to the murders,” Lily said. “Which is why we’re in?”

Blackstone nodded. “Yes. They were used to lure Jason Todd and his friend Ryan Smith to their deaths. Exactly the kind of thing we’re supposed to be involved with. I’ve already been in touch with the local authorities, who would be grateful for the help.” Casting a level stare in Alec’s direction, he added, “These aren’t his first victims. I believe the same unsub lured a young woman to her death using an online help-wanted ad five weeks ago.”

Talk about a bombshell. The entire team, who obviously hadn’t known, reacted to the news, spewing questions and speculation.

“We aren’t officially part of that investigation yet,” Wyatt explained. “Though I’ve talked to the lead detectives. I had a suspicion and have been watching it.” Those intense eyes gleamed. “Let’s just say the murders of Jason and Ryan have increased my suspicions.”

Everyone continued talking. Everyone except Alec, who still felt his boss’s attention solely on him. Those quick, random thoughts continued to click away in his head, connecting the pieces, adding one more.

It had been five weeks ago, before Alec was even medically cleared to go back to the job, when Blackstone had approached him to come work with his team.

Blackstone held one hand up, silencing the voices. “The national media hasn’t gotten hold of the discovery of the bodies yet, but the story did hit the Wilmington press yesterday evening. Last night another e-mail came into Jason’s account. Obviously the person writing it knew it would be intercepted, because it was addressed to Jason’s parents. And to the FBI.”