He flexed his gloved fingers as he paced around the condo. Everything was impeccably neat and well-organized here, just as he expected it to be. After all, it was the home of a blind person.
He’d done his research on Olivia Moore, and although time constraints had curtailed his penchant for in-depth study, he felt he knew whom he was dealing with. She was somewhat of a public figure with her remarkable Web site and its worldwide following. He’d watched over a dozen interviews with her on YouTube, most of them recorded in this very room.
Impressive young lady.
He glanced at the modernist paintings on the walls. Strange. Why were they even here? For visitors, he guessed. Maybe her best friend had chosen them for her. If so, Kendra Michaels had excellent taste.
Enough sightseeing. It was time to—
He froze.
Footsteps.
In the hall coming toward the door.
Surely it was just a passing neighbor. Olivia wasn’t due back for hours.
The footsteps drew closer.
It couldn’t be …
Olivia had two appointments today and she shouldn’t be back for hours. Unless …
A key slid into the lock.
… unless there had been a change in plans.
In one lightning-fast motion, he unsnapped the leather sheath beneath his jacket and slid out his long blade.
The deadbolt lock clicked and the knob turned …
He held up his knife. He hadn’t planned to kill today, but he might have to improvise.
Just like in Connecticut. Just like in Oxnard.
He could do it again.
The door swung open. It was Olivia and she was alone. She moved toward her oval wraparound desk and opened a drawer.
Zachary didn’t breathe.
He stood only five feet from her. One rustle of fabric, one bone creak, one stomach growl, and it was all over. She’d know he was there and he’d have to kill her.
But what if she smelled him? His knowledge of Kendra Michaels had taught him how hyper-aware blind people could be of their surroundings. He hadn’t wanted to leave any trace of himself for Olivia to pick up, so he had bathed only with water, no shampoo or soap. He’d used no detergent when he washed his clothes.
His precautions might not be enough.
He watched her. She seemed to be in a rush as she pulled a USB flash drive and a telephone headset from the drawer. She was obviously still going to her second appointment of the day, a speech at a school for the blind in Oceanside. Maybe she’d forgotten something.
She stopped.
Uh oh.
She slowly lifted her head and turned around. She kept turning until she faced him.
He wanted to grip the knife tighter, but he knew he couldn’t, not as long as he wanted to make this work.
Not a sound. Not a breath.
She looked as if she was staring deep into his eyes.
The effect unnerved him, although almost nothing ever made him feel that way. He felt a sudden urge to lunge across the desk and slice her throat, if only to stop the stare-down that wasn’t.
Her head turned. She faced a different direction before finally picking up her items and moving away from the desk.
Good girl.
She walked across the room and pulled open the front door. She stopped and turned around. Once again she turned toward him. After a long moment, she stepped away and locked the door behind her.
Zachary finally let out the breath he’d been holding. He was relieved … and disappointed.
Relieved he could now move forward with his plan, but disappointed he hadn’t been able to execute this bit of improvisation that had already quickened his pulse and given him a jolt that made life worth living.
No matter. There were bigger jolts to come.
He walked to Olivia’s desk, sat in the chair, and oriented himself with her computer system.
He leaned forward and began to type.
*
KENDRA TURNED TOWARD THE assembled group of FBI agents and assistants. Were they buying it?
She was in front of one of the massive bulletin boards in the FBI fourth floor war room. She’d begun by speaking only with Griffin, Metcalf, and Gina about her theory concerning the knot and the murders’ proximity to Naval bases, but as she spoke and moved between the push-pinned photos, her group of listeners grew until she was addressing everyone in the room.
Now that she was finished, everyone seemed to be waiting for Griffin to respond before they weighed in.
He finally nodded. “Interesting. It’s definitely worth exploring. I’ll reach out to NAB Coronado.” He glanced back at the group. “Though I’m disappointed someone here hadn’t come up with this yet.”
With the boss’s stamp of approval in place, the rest of the group responded with enthusiasm. Kendra spoke with a few of them and answered questions before Metcalf approached her.
He smiled. “Admit it, you like this work. At least a little, right?”
The politics? The knowledge that there were beasts waiting around every corner? “I’ll like it when we catch this guy.”
Griffin stepped up to her. “Good work. We’ll run this by the dream team.”
“Who?”
“All the investigators who were on the different cases are coming here from their respective cities. Two police detectives, an FBI agent, and a federal marshal.”
“And a partridge in a pear tree,” Metcalf quipped.
It didn’t seem to bother him that no one except Gina laughed.
“Anyway,” Griffin continued after giving Metcalf a cold glance, “we all know how it feels to be haunted by a case we could never crack. For each of these people, this killer was one of those. They all want a piece of this investigation.”
Kendra frowned. “It sounds a little cannibalistic. Couldn’t that get a bit…”
“Unwieldly?” Griffin said. “Absolutely. But these are the best and brightest serial killer investigators in the country. They could give us real insight into this guy.”
Insight into the soul of a monster? “We may get more than we bargain for. When do they arrive?” Kendra asked.
“A couple of them are already on their way. I expect to see them all here by tonight or early tomorrow.” Griffin lowered his voice. “I know one of them. Richard Gale. He works for the Bureau out of NYC. Not what you’d call a people person. A real son of a bitch, actually. But in the last twenty years, he’s helped catch some of the Northeast’s most high-profile serial killers. It’s almost spooky how good he is.”
Metcalf and Gina looked at each other and nodded. “Gale is the real deal,” Metcalf said. “His cases are on the study list at Quantico.”
“The others are just as impressive,” Griffin said. “You’ll meet them all soon enough.”
Kendra’s phone blared from her pocket with a ringtone of the “Ooga-Chaka” intro from Blue Suede’s “Hooked on a Feeling.”
Metcalf’s brows rose. “Really?”
Kendra reached into her pocket. “That’s Olivia’s ringtone. I let her pick her own and that’s just her way of driving me crazy.” Kendra answered the phone. “Olivia, I’ll call you back. I’m in the middle of—”
“Kendra, don’t you hang up.”
Kendra stiffened. Something was wrong. She had never heard Olivia’s voice that hollow and frightened.
“Olivia…?”
“He was here.”
“Who?”
A long moment of silence, then jagged breathing.
“Olivia? Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m just … a little freaked.”