“We need those cell phone records,” Beck told her. “If you don’t have them in your hand by ten tomorrow morning, call the companies again. There’s a good chance the victims may have been in contact with the so-called property owners by phone.”

“So we need to find out who owned the place in Dewey and the place in Rehoboth from those two older cases Agent Shields mentioned earlier.”

“I’ll do the follow-up.” Lisa nodded. “And I’ll contact Ballard and Cameron PDs and see if anything showed up on the victims’ computers.”

“When shall we have this town-hall meeting?” the mayor asked.

“The sooner the better,” Beck told her. “I’d like to do it tomorrow night, if we can get the word out.”

“I’ll call the local radio stations as soon as I get back to my office.” Christina Pratt stood to her full five feet ten inches. “I’ll also have a flyer made up immediately and ask the local shops and restaurants to hand it out to their customers. You think maybe seven, seven thirty, Beck?”

“Seven thirty is good,” he agreed.

“Fine.” She stepped away from the table and pushed in her chair. “I trust I’ll see you all then.”

“That should do it,” Beck told the others as the mayor left the room, “unless someone has a question.”

“I have a question.” Sue directed her question to the two FBI agents at the opposite end of the table. “If you’re right and the killer is from St. Dennis and he’s at the meeting, how will we know who he is? I mean, we know everyone in town. How are we supposed to know who we’re supposed to be watching, or what we’re watching for?”

“Well, that’s a good question,” Beck replied. “I guess the best we can do is keep our eyes open and hope that he somehow does or says something that makes him stand out.”

“What are the chances of that?” Hal asked.

Beck shrugged.

“Pretty much what I thought.” Hal nodded. “Slim to none…”

Mia shrunk back from the bright sunlight as she stepped outside the municipal building.

“Should have brought my shades.” She raised her hand to shield her eyes.

“You don’t have to walk me to the car,” Annie told her. “Go on back inside.”

“It’s okay.” Mia joined Annie on the sidewalk. “I want to. It’s the least I can do, after you pulled yourself off another case to look at this one, especially on a weekend. I owe you big time, and I’m sure Beck appreciated it.”

“And you’ll pay up, one of these days. But what’s with Pratt?” Annie frowned. “I sensed hostility there.”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing she’s a mama who resents her kids’ problems being foisted back onto her.” Mia shrugged. “And she probably watches too much TV. Thinks the profiler should be able to show up and pull a list of names out of her butt.”

“Don’t I wish I could,” Annie said. “Damn, but that would make all our jobs easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, no more long, drawn-out, boring investigations. Just, ‘Hey, it’s either Tom, Dick, or Harry. Let’s get DNA and see which of them did it.’ Sorry she seemed to be picking at you.”

“Not the first time, won’t be the last.” The two women reached Annie’s car. She unlocked it and dropped her briefcase onto the backseat and her handbag onto the front passenger seat. “Thanks for the hospitality last night. It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to visit with one another. It was good to have some time to chat.”

“It was. Let’s not wait so long between visits.” Mia gave Annie a hug.

Annie got into her car and slammed the door, then rolled down the window. “Mia, if there’s something bothering you-”

“There isn’t.”

“…or if you just want to talk about anything, you know I’m always here for you, right?”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Mia pushed back the lump that was beginning to form in her throat.

“Just don’t ever hesitate, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Annie, but I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“Then take some time off. When was your last vacation, anyway?”

Mia shrugged.

“That’s how agents burn out, Mia. I’ve seen it happen too many times. Don’t let it happen to you. You love your job too much, honey.”

“I know. I’m fine, really.” Mia backed up so that Annie could turn the car around.

Mia waved good-bye, then stood in the parking lot and watched Annie leave. When the car had disappeared, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her light jacket and walked back into the building, her head down. She could talk to Annie if she had to, she knew that. But what could she say? Forgive me for not knowing that my brother was going to kill your fiancé? The fact that Dylan hadn’t been the intended target really didn’t matter. Brendan had set out to murder his own flesh and blood. How do you get past that?

And why, she asked herself for the thousandth time, why hadn’t she seen it coming?

Mia spent Monday morning in the conference room making calls. So far, she’d requested that her boss send agents from Columbus and Boston to interview the victims of the rape-abductions from 2000 and 2001, faxed copies of the reports she had to the office, and discussed the cases with the agents who’d been assigned. The first time she glanced at her watch, it was almost one in the afternoon and Beck was standing in the doorway, “Want to run up to Charles Street and grab some lunch?”

“Sure. Just give me a minute.”

“I’ll be next door.”

Mia packed her notes into her oversized leather shoulder bag and looked inside for her phone. She listened to several messages, one from her brother Andrew, and one from a friend from the office wanting to know when they could get together for dinner. She saved both to return later.

“Do you mind if we walk?” Beck asked when Mia came into his office.

“Not at all.”

He glanced at her feet as he came around the desk, and Mia smiled.

“It’s the shoes, isn’t it?” She was clearly amused. “You’re wondering how I can walk in them.”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Nothing to it.” She walked ahead of him into the hall. “You just put one foot in front of the other.”

Beck laughed and tapped Garland on the shoulder as he passed by and held up his cell, to let him know he was leaving the building but had his phone. Garland nodded, never missing a beat in his conversation.

“Damn, but it’s hot,” Beck said when they’d walked outside.

“At least we’ll be in the shade most of the way.”

They walked in silence for a moment, then both started to talk at the same time.

“So what did you think-”

“How do you suppose-”

“Go on,” Beck said.

“I was just wondering what you thought of Annie’s assessment of your killer.”

“She said pretty much what you did. That the guy is a control freak, that the whole restraint and rape thing is acting out a fantasy. I didn’t hear anything that surprised me, but I think when we catch this guy, we’ll find him to be pretty much the way she described him.”

“Your mayor didn’t appear to think so.”

“Christina can be a hard-ass sometimes. I think she was looking for more of a portrait than a profile. Plus Dr. McCall may have struck a nerve. I hear her son was a handful when he was younger.”

“Has he straightened out any?”

“He better have. I think he’s got his eye on my sister.”

Beck paused when they reached the corner. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I eat just about everything,” she told him. “Where do you usually go?”

“Lola’s. She has a nice variety, so chances are you’ll find something that suits you.”

“Great. Lola’s it is. Which way?”

“This way.” Beck started to the left, and Mia followed.

Café Lola was a half block away in a centuries-old brick house that had two dining rooms facing Charles Street and a second, smaller room overlooking a narrow courtyard where several tables had been set up.