One sick bastard.

Viv had gotten that right.

The following morning local news carried the story. Every channel Beck turned on had a solemn reporter relating the known details, which were few. Twenty-two-year-old Colleen Preston had disappeared more than a week ago and early last night her body had been found on her family’s front porch by her sixteen-year-old brother. No cause of death released. No suspects. No comment as yet from the Ballard police department.

With so few hard facts, Beck wondered how so many found so much to say about the tragedy. He turned off the television in his office in disgust.

“Poor thing, that girl.” Garland stood in the doorway. “Any idea what that’s all about?”

“No clue.” Beck sat at his desk.

“I forgot to tell you, Chief Meyer returned your call while you were on the phone a few minutes ago.” The dispatcher stepped forward and handed him a slip of paper. “He said to tell you that’s his private line.”

“Thanks.” Beck turned to dial the number.

“I’m going to grab a cup of coffee,” Garland said as he left the room. “I’ll be in the break room if you need me. Hal’s taken over for me for a few.”

“Right.” Beck nodded absently as he dialed.

“Meyer,” a gruff voice answered on the second ring.

“Rich, it’s Gabriel Beck.”

“Hey, Beck.” Rich Meyer sighed heavily. “Guess you’ve got your TV on, too. Some crazy shit, eh? I heard from Bart Daniels, one of the state detectives, that girl was wrapped up like some big spider had snagged her and swathed her in spider silk.”

“That’s pretty close,” Beck agreed. “It’s a miracle that hasn’t leaked yet. Daley’s trying to sit on the details for as long as he can.”

“You saw her? It’s true?”

“Yeah. I saw her. It’s true.” Beck blew out a long breath. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“Heard the bastard left her right on her own front porch, right where someone from her family would find her.”

“The whole family was over here in St. Dennis all day, stayed late for dinner. Her younger brother was the first one home, found her when he came home last night.”

“Can you imagine that?”

“No.” Beck thought of his own sister. “No, I can’t. Listen, Rich, I was wondering if there’d been any more on that case you e-mailed about a few weeks ago, the missing girl. Mindy Kenneher.”

“Nothing, Beck. And you’re not the only one who’s wondering if she’s met the same fate. Jesus, that’s all we need…”

“I have to admit I’m wondering. Looking at that body last night, I find it hard to believe this guy hasn’t done this sort of thing before. It was all so…” Beck searched for the word. “Complete. Not a detail was missed. The body wrapped as neat and tight as you please. There wasn’t even an odor. You had the feeling it was all carefully thought out, even how and when the body was left to be discovered. But it looked like, I don’t know, like a prop from a movie. I walked away with the feeling that it was all part of something else, that there was nothing random about the how or the why of it.”

“All that stuff we learned about in the police academy. About killers.”

“Right. It had all the earmarks of someone who was practiced.”

“A repeat offender, possibly.”

“That’s how it looked to me. Of course, I could be wrong.” Beck paused. “I hope I’m wrong. But it made me wonder, about this girl of yours who’s missing, and I was wondering if she still was.”

“Unfortunately, she’s still gone and there are no leads. No one saw anything. It’s as if she walked out of her office and into the night and just poof, gone.”

“I was hoping by now, if she was a runaway, she’d have contacted someone. Her family, a friend…”

“There’s been nothing. And between you and me, I never saw this girl as a runaway. She’s a damned good kid. Good athlete, good grades, never gave her parents a bit of trouble. She seemed to have a great relationship with her mom and dad and her siblings.”

“You seem to know a lot about her.”

“The Kennehers live across the street from us. I’ve known Mindy since she was a baby. We’ve combed this town six ways to Sunday. There’s not a trace of her to be found. There’s been nothing since she disappeared.”

“Must be tough on her family.”

“You have no idea.”

From where he stood at his office window, Beck could see Vanessa coming up the walk, swinging that furry handbag of hers.

“You’re right, Rich. I don’t.” And I pray I never do. “Maybe you want to talk to Warren, maybe put your heads together on this one, see what similarities there might be.”

“Jesus, I’m almost afraid to. But you’re right. We need to talk.”

“Anything I can do, you give me a call. If you want to put together a team to search the woods and the fields…”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea. Though if the same guy had Mindy, and I don’t want to jump to the conclusion that he does, God forbid, but I’m just saying, wouldn’t he do the same thing? Dump her at her house?”

“I don’t want to jump to that conclusion, either, but I guess it could happen that way.”

“Just between you and me, I’m afraid we’re in over our heads here.”

“What do you mean?” Beck craned his head to see what his sister was doing. It looked as if she’d stopped to talk to someone.

Shit. Steffie Wyler.

“I mean, this is a small town, Beck. A small police force. We’ve never investigated an abduction-not saying that’s what definitely happened here, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t consider it.”

“Agreed.”

“None of us have any experience with this sort of thing.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you there. I’m assuming you’ve spoken with all of her friends.”

“Everyone we could find who’d ever spoke so much as a word with her. Friends, coworkers, hair-dresser. The woman who does her nails and the mechanic who fixed her car and pumps her gas for her. We’ve gone through every aspect of this girl’s life. No one knows anything.”

“Have you thought about calling on the sheriff’s department? Maybe they could give you some pointers.”

“You know what that means.”

“Yeah, Jake Madison. I can’t blame you for not wanting to tangle with him.”

“He just makes such a clusterfuck out of everything he touches.”

“I can’t argue with that. But maybe, like you said, you and Warren…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll give Daley a call as soon as we hang up.”

“Have you thought about calling the FBI, see if you could maybe talk to one of their profilers? You know, see if you can get a bead on what type of person would have done this. Seems to me it’s a pretty bold statement, wrapping your victim in plastic like that.”

He was going to add…“and watching them suffocate,”…but decided against it. He hadn’t heard that Viv had issued a cause of death as yet, and it was only his gut reaction that the killer had wrapped the girl up like that so he could watch her struggle to breathe. And from what he’d seen of the vic’s face the night before, she’d certainly struggled for air. But until Viv made a statement, he should probably just keep his speculations to himself.

“That stuff’s all crap, profiling.” Meyer made a dismissive noise. “What’s a profiler gonna tell me? This guy has anger issues? He doesn’t like women? Bunch of crap.”

Beck didn’t agree, but he let it ride.

“Well, in the meantime, till something breaks, it wouldn’t hurt for all of us to be extra alert. Keep as many cars on the street as we can.”

“Right. I’ll call around to the other local departments.” Chief Meyer paused, then suggested, “Maybe a bunch of us should get together some morning soon, maybe for breakfast. You know, a little informal meeting.”

“You just tell me where and when. I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Beck. I’ll let you know if we turn up anything.”

“Appreciate it, Rich.” Beck hung up and stared out the window, trying to will Vanessa away from the tall blond, but the two women changed direction and headed toward Steffie’s ice cream shop across the parking lot from the municipal building. That’s right, Stef. Lure my sister with ice cream, then lay out all the dirty details, get a little sympathy, get her on your side.