Page 65 of Devoted in Death

“Yeah, I’ve already considered the suicide-by-cop angle. Catching them comes first, not giving them the satisfaction of going out together in a fucking carved heart is next on the list.”

She pushed up, paced. “What’s your impression of Banner?”

“Committed to this, a little wide-eyed, but solid. I suspect he’s taken a lot of rejection—the FBI, other law enforcement—through his investigation. He hasn’t given up, and giving up, putting it aside, would’ve been easier.”

Eve nodded as she moved around the room. “He doesn’t strike me as someone who’d go rogue. If he did, I’d cut him loose. Okay, thanks.”

She dropped down in the chair again, looked over at her board. “She’s in pain, and she’s scared. ‘Why is this happening to me?’ That’s what keeps going through her head. She wants to see her family and friends again. She wants it to stop, just stop. If we find out anything from Arkansas, if I can work the location—because it has to be downtown—and if she’s tough enough to hold on, we’ve got a chance of getting her out of this.”

“If there’s anything else I can do, you’ve only to let me know.”

Eve shifted around. “When the remains get here from the two vics we’ve got coming in, it would help if you either worked it with DeWinter and Morris or reviewed their reports. The shrink angle’s an angle. I don’t want to miss any of them.”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Alone, Eve set up another missing-persons run looking for any individual or individuals reported missing since the previous August with a residence or business in New York.

When her ’link signaled she noted Garnet DeWinter’s readout, answered.

“Dallas.”

“You might have asked.”

“Asked what?”

“If I had the time to examine and report on two sets of exhumed remains. It may be you don’t fully understand what we do here, or the fact I currently have on my table bones from two subjects recently discovered buried in concrete footings after the demolition of a building.”

“How old are they?”

“Approximately one hundred and twenty years.”

“Then they can probably fucking wait. Jayla Campbell,” she snapped and turned so the ’link showed the board and Campbell’s photo. “She has maybe thirty-six hours—with luck—before the two lunatic lovers who are currently torturing her end it by slicing her across the belly from hip to hip and letting her bleed out, probably while they have hot sex.”

The insult on DeWinter’s striking, sharp-featured face faded. On a sigh, she ran a hand over her sleek-for-work hair. “You might have given me some background.”

“I’m in a little bit of a hurry considering Campbell is only the last of at least twenty-one confirmed victims. And I have four more probables, including the remains heading your way.”

“If you’d given me some background, I might have been able to use some influence to get the remains here quicker.”

“How?”

DeWinter aimed a cool look out of sharp green eyes. “I have connections, and ways to use them. Which I’ll be doing right now. I’ll need a full report on this investigation, the profiling, and the previous victims.”

“I sent it to you about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh.” This time DeWinter huffed out a breath. “We really need to learn how to communicate better.”

“Right. I’ll get on that.”

“If you do, I will.”

Eve struggled back an impatient retort, mainly because DeWinter had a point. “Fine. Review what I sent you. Any questions, tag me. Morris will be working with you, and Mira’s going to make the time. I need to know everything I can know about the two vics. The feds don’t group them in with this. I do. Prove me right.”

“I prove you right, you buy me a drink.”

“Sure, whatever. I’m pressed here.”

“So am I now. I’ll get back to you.”

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