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  “Oh, my God,” Tina whispered, her eyes almost as wide as the cat’s. “That’s Asha, my cat. And the hair—I think it’s Jasmine’s.”

  Drake and Harrison flanked either side of the door to Tina’s house, Simon and Avery moving toward the back. Hannah held her breath as she drew her gun and waited for Drake’s signal.

  Because of the baby, Madison had stayed behind with Tina. Hannah almost wished she’d volunteered to stay behind as well, but she felt like she owed it to Tina to be here when they found—whatever the hell it was they found.

  Apparently Jasmine had volunteered to stop by Tina’s house to check on her cat. And a quick check at the coffee house had proved damning. Jasmine had been supposed to open up, but she’d never showed. Hannah’s heart pounded as Avery radioed that he and Simon were in place.

  Using his fingers, Drake counted down to one, and Harrison reached out for the doorknob. It turned easily, and the door swung open, Drake moving into the entry hall, leading with his gun, she and Harrison following close behind.

  Harrison edged toward the staircase as Drake moved into the living room and she stepped cautiously into the dining room. She turned slowly, gun at the ready, then called, “clear,” as soon as she was certain the room was empty.

  Behind her, she heard Drake call out the same, and the squeak of Harrison’s shoe on the staircase. Stepping back into the foyer, Drake motioned her upward—following Harrison, and with a quick nod, she started up the stairs behind him.

  Below, she could hear Avery and Simon in the kitchen, and she flashed to memories of the house in the woods and Sara’s body. She shook her head, pushing aside the image. Best to concentrate on the here and now. And, she hoped, the living.

  Harrison was already at the door to the bathroom when she hit the landing. And with a nod in her direction, he swung inside, then reappeared with a shake of his head. She moved forward, stopping in the door of the extra room, waiting until he had her back. Then with a quick intake of breath, she stepped into the room, leveling her gun.

  It was empty. Like the dining room, perfectly in order.

  She walked back into the hallway and followed Harrison to the bedroom. He swung into the doorway, then shook his head.

  “All clear here, too. Although it looks like someone has been here. The place is a mess.”

  Hannah laughed, relief making her giddy. “It’s just Tina. She’s a slob. Anywhere she goes, it’s like liquid—she fills every single inch of space.”

  Harrison pressed the button on his comlink. “Avery, we’re clear up here.”

  “Wish I could say the same,” Avery replied. “We’ve got signs of a struggle in the kitchen.”

  Hannah suppressed a shiver, her mind going back to the scene of Sara’s murder. Jasmine was a friend.

  “You okay?” Harrison asked, his brown and green eyes filled with concern as they headed back to the staircase.

  “Yeah,” she shook her head, realizing that the gesture negated her words. “It’s just that I can’t seem to keep the image of Sara strung up at that house out of my mind. And now it could be Jasmine…” She trailed off, angry that she’d let her emotions get the best of her.

  “It’s okay to care, Hannah,” he said, his fingers warm against her arm as they started down the stairs. “It’s what lets us know we’re still human. The day you stop, that’s when you need to worry.”

  She knew he was right. But it didn’t make it any easier.

  They walked into the kitchen to find Avery and Drake already there. Avery on the phone, presumably to call in the forensics people. There was no sign of Simon. The sunny kitchen had always seemed so cheerful to Hannah, but now the floor was littered with cat food and broken dishes, the signs of the struggle they’d witnessed on the video almost seeming more ominous after the fact.

  “So what have we got?” Harrison asked, as he knelt to touch his fingertip to a small pool of drying blood.

  “Not enough to have been a kill,” Drake said. “But it’s pretty clear that someone was on the losing end of this fight.”

  “Or something,” Hannah amended, searching the kitchen for signs of Asha. “Any sign of the cat?”

  “Not so far,” Avery said, flipping his phone closed. “But I suspect he headed for the hills when he heard all the noise. This didn’t happen in a vacuum.” He waved a hand at the paraphernalia littering the floor and countertops. “Anyway, whoever was here, we can be pretty sure it was our killer. The scene seems to match up with the video.”

  “Forensics on the way?” Harrison asked, straightening up again, his gaze moving across the kitchen.

  “Yeah. That was Tracy. She’s coming with the locals. She’ll make sure nothing’s missed.”

  “Speaking of missing—looks like we’re down a knife.” Drake frowned, nodding toward a large knife block. “It might be nothing but it’s worth checking with Tina.”

  “And when we do, we can give her a little good news,” Simon said, walking into the kitchen holding a still agitated Asha. “Found him in the linen closet.” He set the cat down in front of his food bowl, and after a lap at the water, he leaped up into a kitchen chair, watching them through emerald eyes.

  “He seems to be no worse for wear,” Avery observed. “Which I guess rules him out as the source of the bloodstain. What made you look in the linen closet?”

  “I had cats when I was a kid. And when they’re scared, they like small, dark places,” he said. “Plus I was looking for a cellar.”

  “For the body,” Hannah said, the words coming of their own volition.

  “Yeah. But there isn’t one—a cellar, I mean. Hell, best I can tell, there isn’t a body either.”

  “But judging from this duffle,” Harrison said, lifting a navy bag that had been thrown into the corner, “I’m guessing that Jasmine was here. It’s full of clothes and toiletries. I’m guessing stuff she was bringing to Tina.”

  “Which means what?” Hannah asked. “The killer subdued her here and then took her somewhere else?”

  “That’s what happened with Sara Lauter,” Simon said.

  “But Jasmine and Sara have nothing in common,” Hannah said. “What was it Madison said about victimology? Killers usually stick to a type? Jasmine is older than Sara, she’s successful, she’s not a student, and she’s black. Seems like sort of a stretch to put the two women in the same category.”

  “Unless there’s a common thread we’re missing,” Drake replied.

  “Or Jasmine wasn’t the real target.” Avery was staring at the bag, eyes narrowed. “What if the killer didn’t know that Jasmine was coming. What if he was waiting for Tina?”

  “You think that because she got the video, she was targeted next?” Simon frowned, considering the idea.

  “That’s pretty much what the cyber killer did.” Harrison shrugged. “But we already established that he’d know that we’d sequester Tina as soon as we found out she’d gotten the mpeg.”

  “Maybe he thought we’d do it at her house. So he was waiting.”

  “Yeah, but if he wanted Tina, why not just walk away when he realized it wasn’t her?” Hannah asked. “I’m no expert, but if this guy had a plan, then wouldn’t he have just waited?”

  “Maybe she surprised him,” Simon suggested, reaching down to pet Asha, who was purring contentedly now. Whatever had happened here, the cat had already put it behind him.

  “Okay, but then why move the body? If she didn’t have the profile to get his rocks off—why take her?”

  “To hide the body?” Hannah knew even as she said it that it didn’t make sense.

  “If that were the case,” Simon said, reading her mind, “he would have cleaned up as well. Although I’m willing to bet that the blood is Jasmine’s and that there’s nothing else here to incriminate him. He was too careful before to make that kind of mistake now.”

  “Could be he’s rattled,” Drake suggested.

  “I don’t think so.” Harrison shook his head. “You’re forgetting tha
t the bastard had the presence of mind not only to videotape the attack but to send it to Tina—and through her, to us. There’s a message here somewhere, I just don’t know what the hell it is.”

  “Well, if there’s a trace, we’ll find out soon enough,” Avery said, his words reflected in the sound of approaching sirens. Behind them, from somewhere in the living room, a snippet of music filled the air.

  “What the hell was that?” Drake asked.

  “Unless I’m off my game,” Harrison said, already striding toward the door, “that was the sound of a computer booting. There’s no mistaking the Windows theme.”

  Hannah and the others followed him into the room. He was standing in front of a small laptop set on the corner of the coffee table, situated so that it was facing the kitchen. The screen was up.

  “Was it like this when you first came in here?” Harrison asked, his hand on his holstered gun.

  “Yeah.” Drake nodded. “We didn’t touch anything.”

  “It’s Tina’s,” Hannah said, “I’ve seen her with it on campus. So why did it boot up?”

  “Because it’s streaming another video.” Harrison stepped back so that everyone could see.

  The room was different, but the scene was the same as the first one. A woman, naked and tied to a bed. The shadowy shape of a man with a knife. Hannah’s stomach tightened.

  “Son of a bitch must be operating the computer remotely,” Harrison said. “I won’t be able to tell for sure until I get it back to Sunderland.”

  “But that means he knows we’re here…” Hannah trailed off as the scene on the computer changed, the camera zooming in.

  The woman’s face was illuminated in the light, her eyes wide with fear. This time there was no question as to identity. It was Jasmine. And if things continued to play out like before—she was about to die.

  CHAPTER 12

  I’ve been over this thing like ten times now, and I’m not finding anything that’s going to get us any closer to finding out where he’s taken Jasmine.” Harrison ran a hand through his hair and sat back, staring at his computer screen.

  He and Madison were in A-Tac’s computer room trying to make sense of the video. Unlike the emails, this one had been broadcast via a program installed on Tina’s computer. It was a remote feed, using the Internet, but so far, Harrison hadn’t been able to trace it back to the source. Hannah was with Tina. And the rest of the team was on site with Tracy and the forensic techs.

  “So he’s covered his tracks,” Madison said, her eyes narrowed in thought.

  “And then some. I tracked him through at least eight proxy servers, and now I’m linked into Tina’s IP address. He’s just made an endless loop with absolutely no way to isolate the real source. Whoever he is, he definitely knows his way around the Internet.”

  “Which is part of what bothers me,” Madison said. “This guy’s skill set doesn’t seem to mesh. On the one hand, he presents as a techy. Organized and definitely operating with a plan. But on the other side, when you look at his victims, it seems more like a crime of opportunity.”

  “Except when you factor in the photo he sent Sara.”

  “But he didn’t send anything to Jasmine,” Harrison reminded her.

  “That we know of.” Madison shook her head. “Without a second body, the truth is that we don’t have all that much to go on in the first place. But even so, this all feels contrived somehow.”

  “So maybe, like we said, he’s following a template. Which would mean the murders themselves are based on the cyber killer, but the technical touches are his own.”

  “And yet, he’s really good at killing, but we don’t have any record of a local with an MO anywhere close to this guy.”

  “So maybe he learned the skills somewhere else?” Harrison suggested. “I mean, you said he might have military training. That could potentially have him moving around all over the place.”

  “It’s definitely a possibility. As are a dozen other scenarios. The truth is we need more to go on. And to get that…” She trailed off.

  “We need someone else to die.” Harrison looked up to meet her gaze. “I know. It’s awful. But I suspect it’s already out of our hands. This guy wants us to know what he’s doing, but he sure as hell doesn’t want us to figure it out until it’s too late. So if he’s following the pattern, the fact that we have the mpeg means that Jasmine Washington is already dead.”

  “But why?” Madison asked, frowning as she rubbed her swollen stomach. “I mean sure he’s showing his power over us. And that’s certainly a profile we see a lot with these guys. But I feel like there’s something more to it. Something we’re missing.”

  “Like the fact that this asshole just happens to choose the community where I live to resurrect the work of the cyber killer?”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Madison said on a sigh. “But it doesn’t really make any sense. I mean why now?”

  “Because maybe I’m finally starting to put it behind me?”

  “Yes, but that would mean that the killer is fixated on you. And if that were the case, why hit women you don’t know? Seems like the emotional impact would be a lot stronger if he attacked someone like Hannah.”

  “Well, he’d have his work cut out for him if he tried something like that. Hannah isn’t exactly an easy mark.” The words were meant to deflect the real meaning of Madison’s words.

  “No, she isn’t. But I stand by what I said. If the guy were out to get you, she’s a much more likely target.”

  Harrison clenched a fist, the idea of anyone hurting Hannah making him want to hit something—or someone.

  “You really do care about her, don’t you?” Madison observed, her voice soft.

  “Of course. She’s a friend. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, or to any of them.”

  “Right.” Madison nodded in that superior I-know-what-you’re-really-thinking kind of way.

  “Look, you’re wrong if you believe it’s anything more than that. I don’t do relationships, remember?”

  “Sometimes we don’t have a choice,” she said. “The heart wants what it wants. Even when we’re determined to ignore the fact. And a person would have to be blind not to see that there’s something going on with the two of you.”

  “We slept together. All right?” He held up a hand in surrender. “But that doesn’t mean we made a commitment. In fact, it probably shouldn’t have happened at all. But we’ve both been through a lot lately. And one thing just led to another.” Sort of.

  The truth was, he hadn’t been able to quit thinking about her. So he’d taken action, assuming that having sex with her would solve the problem. But it hadn’t. And in spite of everything that was happening—or maybe because of it—the truth was that he wanted her now more than ever.

  “It’s not wrong for you to be happy, you know. Bree wouldn’t have wanted you to stop living.”

  “I am living,” he protested, albeit a bit too loudly. “But that doesn’t mean I want a relationship with anyone. Hannah included.”

  “Who are you telling that to? Me or yourself?” she asked, her smile gentle.

  “You,” he snapped. “Or me… Hell, I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter, because even if I did want to move forward—she most certainly does not.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I’ve seen her looking at you.”

  “I told you she’s just a friend.”

  “Well, then you and I have a completely different idea of friendship.” Madison grinned.

  “I’ll admit Hannah and I are connected. But not in the way you’re implying. Besides, Hannah made it more than clear that she’s not interested in a relationship.”

  “She’s closed off. I’ll give you that.” Madison shrugged. “The hair and the glasses are a giveaway. I’m guessing that somewhere along the way she got hurt pretty badly. And she learned to hide behind her intellect and keep her feelings locked away. But that doesn’t mean she’s incapable of having a relationship.
It just means it’ll take the right guy.”

  “Well, then I’m even more sure that it’s not me. I’m not ready to take on someone else’s problems, Madison. Hell, I have enough trouble living with my own.”

  “Sometimes it takes someone who can understand.”

  He thought about last night and sharing his sister’s story with Hannah. It wasn’t something he usually did. He’d put it down to the heat of the moment, but maybe Madison was right, maybe it was something more. The minute he had the thought, he shook it away. “You’re making too much out of it. Trying to read something into nothing. It was a one-off.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she’s too damaged,” Madison said, turning her attention back to the computer.

  “She sure as hell is not. She’s amazing,” Harrison said, anger rising. “You saw her with Tina. She genuinely cared about the woman. And she’s like that with everyone. Hannah may have secrets in her past. We all do. But believe me, she’s not damaged.”

  “And you care. A lot.” Madison’s smile held a hint of triumph.

  “Never try and argue with a profiler,” he grumbled. “But I still stick to my original point. Hannah doesn’t want anything more from me than what we already have. And neither do I. So just let it go.”

  “Okay,” Madison said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I will. But this isn’t about me. And if I’m right, the very fact that Hannah let down her guard to sleep with you means that she cares as much as you do. And that is a very rare thing, indeed.”

  “And you, my friend, have turned into a romantic,” Harrison said. “Baby number two is addling your brain.”

  “Gabriel actually says the same. But the truth is that I’m deliriously happy. And there’s nothing at all wrong with wishing the same for a friend.”

  “Well, I appreciate the thought. But I’m fine with things just the way they are.”

  Famous last words.

  “So far we’ve got nothing to give us a bead on the killer,” Tracy Braxton said, her brow furrowed as she considered the evidence before her. The techs had almost finished their work, yellow tape and plastic evidence markers somehow only making the scene in Tina’s kitchen seem more macabre. “The blood on the floor is definitely Jasmine Washington’s.”