Page 106 of Love Me Fearless

Meaning they could all be victims of the same killer. The sheer magnitude of this overwhelms me. How in the hell could someone get away with this? “What’s the profile?”

He sits back and crosses his arms. “Young women, early- to mid-twenties, all of them educated, which is significant. Often serial killers target women who live on the fringes of society. Prostitutes, runaways, or women from marginalized groups. This means our unsub had to get to know his victims enough to decide if they are worth his attention.”

Another chill walks over my skin. “So he’s picky. Great. How does that help us?”

“It helps us find connections. If he’s spending time watching and learning about his victims, it means he has access to them. A job, a shared community like school, a sport, or an activity, even a commute. It’s how we’ll find him.”

“Nichole-Renée was the only one who was found in a different location than where she lived. Does that mean something?”

“If I’m right, she would have been his first murder.” He grimaces. “He didn’t have his M.O. dialed in yet. It might mean that the murder happened on accident, or it was an impulse. After, he needed someplace to dispose of the body. Maybe he has a connection to Lake Tahoe. Maybe he just started driving, and it was the first place with access to forest land where he could dig a grave.”

I flex my fingers on the edge of the table and exhale a measured breath. “Everything about what you just said is fucked up.”

“Agreed.” His keen eyes fix on me for a moment, as if giving me the time to process before he taps his pen on the dots near Finn River. “But there’s a pattern here, and it’s important. After Nichole-Renée, he kills Michelle and leaves her in the bottom of York Springs Mine. Then he kills Jane in Humboldt Ridge. She’s also found in a mine, but this one is much closer to a road. It’s another pattern, Ithink. One that shows he’s becoming impatient with the disposal process, taking risks to get it done quickly.”

I let this information slide off the back of my thoughts because it’s too fucking disturbing to process. “Do you think the mines have any special meaning?”

He gives the map a thoughtful glance. “One obvious thing is it means he has knowledge of them. For example, would a person who grew up in urban San Francisco or a tourist town like Lake Tahoe even know those mines existed? Or that they’d be so easy to access?” He shakes his head. “Doubtful. That means the unsub has likely spent time in the outdoors, either here or in places like it. A lot of mountain towns in this region have a history of mining activity. He could even be a rockhound or amateur geologist, someone who maybe has poked around in those mines for fun.”

“So he’s from here, that’s what you’re saying?”

“Here or someplace like it, but the fact that two victims were found near Finn River makes me think he’s spent time here.” He glances at the map. “Based on the other two murders, though, he also travels, maybe for school, or work, like a salesman. We’ve had several serial murder cases involving long-haul truckers, but all of them targeted prostitutes and runaways.”

My chest starts buzzing. That there are people out there preying on already-vulnerable women makes my tight stomach turn inside out. “Three years went by between when he killed Jane and Marin. What was he doing?”

Luke shakes his head. “I’m going to assume he has more victims we haven’t connected yet. But it’s also possible he could have been in a different area, or had some life event that prevented him from killing, like being incarcerated, getting married, or even receiving some form of treatment.”

“Marin wasn’t found in a mine. How does that fit your pattern?”

Luke swivels his laptop to him and shuts the lid. “It could mean he’s getting careless.”

“Is that good or bad?” I ask.

“It could give us an advantage, but it’s also a sign of escalation, which is dangerous.”

“Like he’s going to strike again?”

He gives me a grim nod.

“What if all along, he’s been after Ava?” I can’t look at him. My fear is too raw.

“The fact that he got into her apartment, but fled when she screamed…that’s not a pattern we see very often.”

“So it’s possible these two sets of crimes aren’t connected?”

He levels me with a serious gaze. “Right now I don’t have a good answer for that.”

With a groan, I run my hand through my hair but it doesn’t make me feel any less helpless, or frustrated.

“The rose,” I ask. “What’s it mean?”

He reaches for a bottle of water on the table and cracks the lid. “White roses are a traditionally a sign of young love, loyalty, even hope. It could mean her stalker has a romantic interest in her.”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

He takes a long sip from the water bottle. “The way the break-in is described, it almost sounds like the perp wasn’t planning to do harm. The rose could be a romantic gesture. A delusional one, but when Ava screamed, that delusion cracked, and he panicked.”

“Why would he leave the rose on her car six and a half years later? If it’s even the same asshole?”

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