Page 123 of Love Me Fierce

“The CRV is the only one registered,” I say.

“When’s trash day in his neighborhood?” Zach asks. “Couldn’t we get his DNA from something he’s discarded?”

“It was this morning,” Ballard says. “But we’ll be there to get it next time.”

“That’s a week from now, though,” I say. “And how long will DNA take?”

“A month, if we’re lucky,” Ballard replies.

I want this guy of the streets yesterday.

“If only we had another meet set up with Vivian,” Ballard adds in that wistful tone that sets my teeth on edge.

I force down the sour lump rising in my throat with a hard swallow. To think Vivian had sat across from this guy, talked to him, taken his money, while all along, he was toying with the idea of killing her.

“You think I’d let this asshole get anywhere near her again?” I say with a scoff.

All eyes turn to me.

“Of course not,” Ballard replies. “But a discarded coffee cup from the café would sure speed along a DNA match.”

“Well, we’re not using Vivian as fucking bait to get it.”

“Understood,” Ballard says.

“Why does he buy a cross country ski pass for Bear Mountain?” I ask, staring at the screen, where the details Zach has assembled have been organized in a single slide.

“And why is he part of Finn River Search and Rescue if he lives in Idaho Falls?” Sheriff Olson says, rubbing his chin.

“Maybe he comes up here for recreation,” Rolland says with a shrug. “Plenty of people do.”

“But he’s not part of other SAR groups,” I say, meeting his skeptical gaze.

“That we know of,” Rolland replies. “That could be something to look at though.”

“Labor intensive,” Ballard says with a sigh. “But I’ll bring it up with the team.”

“What if he’s got a cabin up here?” I ask.

“There’s nothing registered,” Zach says, frowning.

“Maybe it’s not in his name,” I say.

Zach rolls forward and starts typing. “Like a family owned one?”

Sheriff Olson cocks an eyebrow. “Or he rents one.”

Rolland nods. “That I can get behind. Do a deep dive on local properties. Look for a family connection, any history he or his familyhas to this area. If he’s got access to a local residence, we could put it under surveillance.”

“This is good,” Sheriff Olson says. “Ballard, what’s your ETA?”

“Two hours,” he replies.

Sheriff Olson taps the table. “Let’s reconvene here when you arrive.”

“I’ll take the rental properties angle,” Zach says, glancing at me over his laptop.

I open my screen, an urgent buzz firing through me. “I’ll take the family side.”

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