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Chapter 20

Gray

“Another dead end,” I said once we’d cleared the building. “I’m beginning to think this guy really is a ghost.”

Phoenix squared his jaw and walked toward the SUV. “He’s not a ghost. He’s a man of flesh and blood, and we’ll find him.”

The agent seemed more irritated than usual, as if the case were weighing him down.

“Do you usually have this much trouble catching a perp?” I asked, as we got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

“It varies. Sometimes we nail down the profile and find them in days. Other times, it can be weeks or more, depending on the other variables. If this was Ameinias’ hometown, we’d be able to track him down a lot faster. But as it stands, we don’t know where he’s from. The first victim was found in Washington State, but the info we’ve gathered from the Bellingham police hasn’t aided much in learning his identity. The DNA we recovered from the scenes have no match in the system, which tells me he’s never been arrested before.”

We drove through downtown, far enough from the festival that traffic wasn’t too congested, but close enough that we passed a lot of people who were walking along the sidewalks toward the festival grounds.

Any of them could be Ameinias.

“What made you want to join the FBI?” I asked, looking over at him. “Or is that too personal?”

His eyes held my gaze before moving back to the road. “I didn’t have the best upbringing. As I got older, I wanted to do good in the world. Catch the bad guys.”

He could’ve been talking about my own life.

“I understand that,” I said, glancing out the window at a group of teen girls who were jumping up and down on the sidewalk, excited about something on their phones. “My dad was an abusive drunk, and he made me believe men couldn’t show emotion. Any sign of weakness and he’d try to beat it out of me. When he died, it was like I was freed from his bullshit expectations. But the effects of his abuse stayed with me. It took a lot for me to get where I am today.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m glad you were able to build yourself up from it. Some people shatter and never put themselves back together.”

“You said before that your dad was big into mythology.”

“He was,” Phoenix stated before pressing his lips into a line. “It wasn’t only mythological creatures that interested him, but also the concept of immortality.”

“Which is why he liked the phoenix, right? Dying and being reborn. Never staying dead.”

“It was his goal in life to become immortal. I’d say he succeeded.”

I cocked my head at him. “How so?”

“He was a serial killer,” Phoenix said, holding the steering wheel a bit tighter. “The worst kind, too. He was charismatic and knew how to play to people’s emotions. A real sociopath. He saw everyone as a pawn in his game. He killed for seven years before getting caught.”

“Seven years?” I gaped. “And you were with him the whole time?”

He nodded. “I didn’t know for years. He was careful about it.”

“How did he get caught?”

“I turned him in.”

Silence followed. I wanted to know how it happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

“My father was a monster, and I was afraid I’d become one, too,” he continued. “I’ve spent my life proving to myself that I’m nothing like him. Almost was rejected by the FBI because of him. During the background check, when they realized who I was, there was a massive debate on whether I should even be allowed to be an agent.”

That explained a lot. Phoenix joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit to catch serial killers and other criminals, probably as a way to help him cope with the horrors his father caused.

“When this shit is over, we’re going to a bar and I’m buying you a drink,” I said, smiling at him. “You need one. Or twenty.”

“That’d be great.” He returned my smile before growing serious again.

My leg vibrated, and I fished out my phone. Royal was calling.