No. She couldn’t think that way. They would find him. They had to.

Feelings of responsibility and remorse squeezed her soul until she could barely breathe. If it hadn’t been for her testimony thirty-four years ago, the police wouldn’t have closed the case. And maybe, just maybe, the real killer would have been caught.

Zack didn’t question Olivia about her outburst outside the coroner’s office, which seemed a little too impassioned to be a lecture on justice. It was personal. He wondered exactly how personal this case was to her.

By the time they got back to the station, Zack had other things on his mind. He went to track down Boyd and find out what was going on with the trucks while Olivia excused herself to the conference room.

Boyd was still comparing the list of Expedition owners with the list of Dodge owners, but he was making progress.

“When or if you get a match, take Jan O’Neal with you to do the interviews,” Zack told him.

“You want me to check them out?” Boyd asked.

Why did he look so shocked? This was why Zack didn’t think he made a good FTO. Maybe he didn’t give Boyd enough positive reinforcement. The kid had done a good job so far, and Zack saw promise in him-if he stopped second-guessing himself and lost his over-eager puppy demeanor.

“Yes,” he said. “But not alone. You know what to look for, and O’Neal is a good cop.” One of the most meticulous on the force. Boyd could learn from her.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Agent St. Martin and I are going to talk to the two witnesses in Benedict’s abduction, see if they remember anything else about the guy they saw, but I’m not holding my breath.”

“Because kids start making things up,” Boyd said.

“Right. But the first time we talked to them, there was a lot of emotion. Maybe time will help in this case.”

“Is everything going okay with the agent?” Boyd asked.

“Better than I had hoped. We’re going to review each case she brought with her and see if we can spot any additional patterns. Stop by the conference room-I’ll have some follow-up work to do contacting other jurisdictions that I’ll need your help with.”

Zack’s next stop was Doug Cohn’s lab. The lab director was bent over a microscope. Zack waited, impatient but not wanting to rush him. Finally, he walked over.

Without looking up, Cohn said, “I don’t have anything new, but I did get the pubic hair off to Agent St. Martin’s contact at the FBI lab. Normally I wouldn’t think they’d get it done any faster than us, but she seemed adamant they’d jump on it.”

“Thanks. Look, I know you’re swamped, but I have a favor.”

“If it’s about this case, anything you want.” Cohn looked up from the microscope.

Zack handed him the list of cities Olivia had given him earlier. “Can you contact each of these departments and see if you can get any information about the marks on the forearm?”

“Those been bugging you, too? Was Gil able to get anything off the Reynolds body?”

Zack shook his head. “There wasn’t enough soft tissue left.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Anything else you want me to find out?”

“Sure, the killer’s name and address.”

“Ha. Look, I’ll feel out the labs and see what they have.”

“Good, I’ll be in the conference room. I’m going to call Nashville and find out why they haven’t sent the information about the tattoo, then start down the list and talk to the detectives in charge and get copies of all the files.

“Maybe,” Zack said over his shoulder as he left the lab, “we’ll get a lucky break.”

He swung open the door of the conference room and he said, “Liv, I have Cohn working-”

Olivia was standing on a chair in her stocking feet, on her tiptoes, as she wrote across the top of the white board. She startled at the sound of his voice and the chair went out from under her. She landed unceremoniously on her butt.

Zack took two strides and helped her up. At first, Olivia looked indignant, then she smiled sheepishly. “I guess standing on chairs isn’t the smartest thing to do, but short people do what they must to even the scales.”

She moved away from him and Zack looked at what she’d written across the top. “Dates?” he said.

Listed under the current year in neat block letters were the three Seattle victims: Jillian, Jennifer, and Michelle. Next to each girl’s name was her age, date of abduction, likely time of death, and when her body was found. Olivia had apparently done the same thing for all the victims in nine other states, but there was missing information-specifically, time of death. She’d put her guess in a different color marker.

She had moved the map and the victim’s photographs from the corkboard and taped everything on the white board, so all information about the case could be viewed at once.

Zack shrugged out of his blazer and tossed it across a chair in the corner. Some detectives wore ties; he wasn’t one of them. Dockers and a black T-shirt was his preferred uniform. The blazer was primarily to conceal his shoulder holster.

“It appears you were right,” Zack said. “His last three victims are clustered together, while the first victim is at least a month before.”

She frowned.

“What?” he prompted.

“Well, I’ve a feeling there’s something about these first victims that’s different than the others. But I don’t see what.”

Zack looked at the dates on the wall. “Let’s talk this out. The guy moves from state to state. Why? To avoid detection. How? Is he independently wealthy? In a job that moves around a lot? Sales maybe?”

Olivia shook her head. “I agree with the why, but the how? I’m thinking he doesn’t need a lot of money to live on. He’s single. Disciplined. Probably doesn’t indulge in a lot of luxuries.”

“But he’s not living on the street.”

“No. He’s clean. Probably meticulous in his appearance. Has an honest face. That’s why Jenny Benedict walked off with him. He doesn’t look like he’d harm a fly.”

“Maybe some sort of retail job? In a mall? Lots of kids hang out at the mall, shop there with parents. Perfect hunting ground.”

Olivia wrote notes on the board. Occupation: Retail? Possibly mall. “He’d be good with people, particularly women. Conversational. Probably sounds educated, can talk about a variety of subjects. Manipulative, but not obviously so.”

Zack said, “If he moves every couple of years, he’s probably not in a career where he’d need an established client base, like a lawyer or doctor. What about something with kids? Like a teacher?”

“Teacher. Maybe.” She wrote it next to Occupation on the board. “Except…” She stopped. She didn’t have any facts to back up her feelings. Maybe she was saying too much. Leading Zack down the wrong path. What if she made a mistake? What if they focused on a part of the investigation that gave them no results? What if they wasted precious time because of her feelings?

“Olivia?” Zack prompted.

“Teacher’s a good idea. Kansas was the last place we know for sure he was. We can contact all the schools in Seattle, see if anyone transferred from Kansas.”

“Not a bad idea, except you don’t think he’s a teacher.”

“But maybe he is. We can’t ignore your instincts.”

“I’ll get Boyd on it, but I want to know what you’re thinking.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m not a profiler, I don’t know for sure-”

“Dammit, Olivia, I’m not a damn profiler either.” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling. She’d obviously said the wrong thing, but what?

“Look, stop second-guessing yourself.” Zack said. “Just spill it. If it’s a stupid thought, I’ll forget you said it, okay? I thought we had this conversation already.”

Olivia mentally slapped herself. She had to start acting like the seasoned FBI agent she’d led Zack into believing she was.