Olivia grabbed the paper as it slid off the laser printer, her eyes scanning the information, her heart beating fast as her theory solidified.

Patterns.

Missy’s killer had left Redwood City after her murder, probably because Brian Hall had been arrested and was going to take the fall for Missy’s death. He lay low for a couple years before resurfacing in New York, where he raped and killed four blonde girls in the Albany suburbs before disappearing.

Then two in Lawrence, Kansas. A known sex offender was arrested, tried, and convicted and was now sitting on death row for those murders. But Olivia was ninety-nine percent sure that man was innocent of those particular crimes.

Four more girls killed in Atlanta.

Four in Nashville.

The list went on. Years separated his crimes, but Olivia had uncovered twenty-nine murders in thirty-four years that fit the same pattern.

Blonde girls between the ages of nine and twelve.

Sexually assaulted. Underpants taken.

Dumped facedown in a relatively public location, usually a rest stop off a sparsely traveled road, or an industrial park at night.

The reports she had access to were sparse. She wished she could view the autopsy reports and the lab notes, but most were not computerized. The older the crimes, the less information she had. But the key commonality, the factor that convinced Olivia she had found the link, was the missing lock of hair. The killer had been taking “souvenirs” from his victims, a piece of his victims he could see or touch to relive his crimes.

“What are you doing?”

Olivia jumped, her hand to her chest. “Greg! You startled me.”

“You were deep in thought. So deep you missed the senior staff meeting.”

She glanced at the clock. Noon already? How did the time escape her? “I’m sorry, I was working on…” She bit her cheek. She couldn’t think of a convincing lie, especially on the fly.

Greg frowned and pulled the document from her hand. His scowl deepened as he opened the file folder on her desk and realized what she’d spent the last two weeks doing.

“I can explain,” she began, though she had no idea what to say.

“You don’t need to explain to me, Olivia. I understand you need to find out who killed your sister. But why didn’t you talk to me first?”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of personal.” More than personal; guilt sat like a lead weight on her shoulders. Her testimony against Brian Hall had enabled an evil predator to go free.

“Personal?” He sat down across from her and ran his hands through his hair. “We were married for three years, we’ve been friends for ten more, and you couldn’t share this with me?”

Hurting Greg was the last thing she wanted to do. “At first, I just looked at Missy’s case. At the evidence, the DNA reports, the interviews. I thought, well, I don’t know what I was thinking, except that maybe I’d see something that could put Brian Hall back in prison.” She laughed, a hollow, sad sound.

She continued. “Then I thought, what if? What if he had a partner? There was never any indication that he worked with anyone, but he’s not all that bright-if he did have an accomplice, Hall probably would have turned on him to avoid the death penalty. But what if Hall did have a partner who he was protecting for some reason? We know he didn’t rape Missy, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t somehow involved. But then I thought, what if Hall is really innocent?”

“So you started researching similar crimes,” Greg said, holding up the paper he’d taken from her hands.

“Yes. And, well, things started falling into place. I flounder when I don’t have hard science to back me up, but now-I really think I’m on to something. Will you take a look and tell me if we have enough to go to Rick?”

Rick Stockton was their boss, director of FBI Laboratory Services. He was also a friend, and Olivia wasn’t afraid to capitalize on that friendship if it meant finding Missy’s killer.

Greg took the folder and Olivia sighed in relief. She found herself wringing her hands as she tried to avoid staring at him while he read her compiled reports.

“I don’t understand-in Kansas and Kentucky someone was convicted of the murders. In Kansas, the guy was a known sex offender. I don’t see where they fit into your pattern.”

“The hair,” she said. “Look at the autopsy reports.”

“I saw that, but-”

“Isolated, it doesn’t mean anything,” Olivia interrupted, anticipating Greg’s objections, “but coupled with all the other similarities, my theory holds together. This guy has killed more than two dozen girls. He can wait years between attacks, but then kills two, three, four girls in a short period of time before leaving the area. Why? I don’t know. Maybe he’s satisfied for a time. He shows excellent self-control and discipline. Maybe the police get too close for his comfort. Or in some cases they arrest another man and our guy leaves quietly. Like Hall.”

“I see your point.” Greg stared at the ceiling as if reading the tiles, but his expression was familiar. Olivia grew excited-he was seriously considering her theory. Looking at it from every angle. She held her breath. Having Greg on her side would help her with Rick-not only were Greg and Rick friends, but Greg was also assistant director of CODIS, one of the largest departments in the FBI laboratory, and well respected in the building.

He finally looked at her. “What can Rick do?”

She handed him a report. “Two girls in Seattle who fit the profile are dead, one discovered just this morning. We need to get the Seattle bureau involved. Get the local cops on our page. Profile this guy-he’s disciplined, methodical, and patient. But what else? His job? His family life? If we can trace his steps from Redwood City thirty-four years ago to now, we can learn his identity. Stop him before another girl dies.”

“It’s circumstantial, Olivia,” Greg began.

“But-”

He put his hand up. “But I’ll go with you to talk to Rick. I agree, it’s worth pursuing.”

“Olivia, Greg, come in.”

Rick Stockton glanced at his designer watch, then opened his door wide and motioned for them to enter. “I have a lunch meeting in twenty minutes, but I can be late.”

“Thank you.” Olivia glanced at Greg, who nodded. It helped having him on her side, even if he wasn’t completely convinced.

Rick closed the door behind them, then walked to his desk, sitting on the corner rather than behind it. He smiled wide, a warm smile that brightened his eyes. Rick Stockton was the talk of most of the women in the building: good-looking, sexy, and smart. Olivia didn’t pay attention to the talk-she had more important things to do than ogle men-but she had to admit that her female colleagues were right about his sex appeal.

“Sit,” he told them and she did, clutching her file like a lifeline. Greg stood behind her, his hand resting on the back of her chair. “What can I do for you?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. She and Greg had talked out how to approach Rick, but all her best-laid plans disappeared and she said, “I believe my sister’s killer is in Seattle right now. There have been two like-crimes over the last three weeks.”

Rick’s left eyebrow rose as he glanced at Greg, but that was his only reaction. “How did you come to this conclusion?”

“I followed the evidence. What little there is,” she admitted. “When Brian Harrison Hall was released two weeks ago, I ran a search-on my own time-for similar crimes throughout the country. I found a total of twenty-nine murders in ten states, including Missy’s. I believe she may have been his first.”

Rick frowned. “Ten states? And no one saw a pattern?”

“He is surprisingly patient between attacks, up to six years in one case. He goes into a community, generally a suburb of a large city, and kills up to four blonde girls before disappearing. The only time he kills fewer than four girls is when someone is arrested for the crime.” She paused, handed him her folder. “It’s all here.”