Page 72 of Cold Threat

River came over to the window and stood next to Tony. “The dark car halfway down the street?”

“Yeah.”

“You think he’s watching us?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but it bothers me. I think we need to have Dad check it out when he gets home.”

“Okay. Hopefully it has nothing to do with us.”

“I hope so too.” Tony moved away from the window, and River followed him back to the table where they’d been working.

She forced herself to concentrate on their profile, trying to forget the person parked outside. She read through the rest of it. He was a very organized killer. Probably held a job. Could mimic another serial killer, Ted Bundy. Someone who fit into the community. Had friends.

“That makes these kinds of killers harder to find,” Tony said, stating something they both knew. “They tend to blend in. I’m afraid this won’t help my dad much.”

“I know.” River leaned back in her chair. “But remember that a profile only narrows down the search parameters. It’s not designed to do anything more.”

“Well, we know he only kills when it’s snowing. We also know that he has a compulsion to leave behind an ornament. A handmade ornament. Your dad said that although the police recognized that the ornament might be important, nothing else was found that told them anything about the killer.”

“You mean the two times your dad was able to get someone to look at it?”

“Yes.” Tony got up and grabbed the murder book. He shuffled through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “Made of felt, the kind you can buy in any fabric store. Nylon thread.Stuffing. Button eyes. Of course, there were no fingerprints. One of the snowmen was pretty well burned.”

“They were handmade,” River said. “So, it had to be something from his childhood.”

“We already decided that the ornament and the snow are significant. Something happened to this UNSUB”—he emphasized the word, making it clear to River that he was trying to get them back to working on the profile without thinking about Michael Wilson—“during his childhood. Something that compels him to kill only when it snows.” He sighed. “This is the same stuff we already came up with. We’re just repeating ourselves.”

River reached over and took the file from Tony. She quickly flipped through it, but she couldn’t find what she was looking for.

“Please don’t get upset with me,” she said. “But I need to call Donnie.”

“Why would I get upset?” Tony asked.

“Because I don’t think you’re going to like my question.”

Tony took out his phone and read off Donnie’s number. River dialed it and waited for Donnie to answer. When he did, he sounded a little stressed.

“Donnie, this is River Ryland. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“It’s a busy day, but I’m happy to do anything I can to help.”

River looked at Tony. “Is there any way you can tell me when Michael Wilson and his sister were removed from their home?”

“I think so. Can you hold on for a moment?”

“I can see where you’re going with this,” Tony said, “but no matter what the answer is, it still doesn’t prove anything.”

“I know, but I have to ask.”

Tony didn’t respond. River knew him well enough to know that he wanted to hear the answer too. A couple of minutes later, Donnie came back on the line.

“Let’s see,” he said. He named the year, but it wasn’t really what she was waiting for.

“I know this sounds crazy, but can you tell me the month?”

“The month?” Donnie sounded a little confused but told her to wait a moment. “Here it is. It was ... December. Is that important?”

“We’re not sure. But thank you. One other question. I don’t suppose there are any pictures or descriptions of what the children had with them, is there?”

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