Page 47 of Just Right

But she couldn't suppress the bubbling fear that they were going to be too late to prevent yet another death. That this man, with his damaged mind, his violent tendencies, and his basic knowledge of IT and social media, was still going to be ahead of them. That even with all her knowledge and skill and Connor’s speed and expertise, they were going to be too late.

"I'm feeling really nervous," she shared to Connor as they drove. He glanced at her, and she continued, "I don't know why. I have a very bad feeling about this."

"Why? You think you've missed something?"

"Yes. I'm worried he knows something we don't. I've run my programs over and over. There are only these two women. My parameters can't pick up anything else, and yet, I don't know if we are going to be in time. Is that crazy?"

"You might just be nervous. You've done a few cases now. When you start out as a rookie, you have no idea what’s happening. It's only with experience, when you start realizing the complexities and what can go wrong, that you get scared," Connor admitted.

"I hope so." But privately, Cami worried that her instinct was telling her something for a reason.

"We're close. We should get there in time."

"I know. I just keep thinking of the last time when we were too late. I can't get rid of the worry that we're going to be too late again."

"We'll get there in time," Connor repeated. "We have to."

"I hope you're right. I'm just nervous. I don't know why."

"You'll be fine. You've got this."

Cami nodded. She tried to channel some of that confidence, but she couldn't quite manage it. She couldn't shake the feeling that her fear wasn't irrational.

"Here we are. This is her road," Connor said. "And there's her house. On the corner."

There were no other cars nearby, Cami saw. Nobody was there. The door was closed. Her stomach twisted because she knew that didn't mean they—or Meryl—were safe. It might just mean he'd already done the deed and left.

Connor parked outside, and they raced up to the door. He hammered on it.

There was a pause. A terrible, seemingly endless silence that seemed to sear Cami's soul.

Connor didn't look traumatized. He looked deliberately calm. He raised his hand to knock again.

And at that moment, the door flew open.

Cami let out a deep breath as she saw an angry-looking blonde woman standing in the doorway. She was wearing an apron and rubber gloves. Cami had the impression that she'd been interrupted in a big cleaning project.

Her annoyance turned to surprise as Connor showed his badge.

"FBI. Ma'am, we're on the trail of a suspected criminal and there's a chance, based on our research, that you might be a target."

"Me?" She looked astonished. Then the light dawned. "Is this to do with these strange murders that have been taking place? I heard about them."

"Yes, ma'am. It is."

"And why should I be a target?" She frowned.

"The killer is choosing victims based on certain parameters of appearance, habits, and location," Connor explained calmly. "We've run programs to try and predict where he might be striking next, and your name was shortlisted by the program."

"How bizarre." Now, she looked worried. "Well, I guess if the program thinks he might target me, that's serious."

"Do you know a man called Becker Evans? We're seeking him for questioning."

"Becker Evans, Becker Evans." Meryl shook her head. "The name's familiar, but I can't place him. I know my nephew has many friends in this area, and quite often when I get friend or connection requests, it's through him. I do gift packs for a lot of local stores and events, you see."

Cami guessed that if Becker had targeted this woman, he'd taken care to stay under Meryl's radar. It seemed that he didn't get to know his victims before he tracked them, but only targeted them based on the kills he was planning.

"Ma'am, I'm going to ask a favor," Connor said. "Until we have closed this case, there's a chance you might be at risk. I'm going to ask the local police to come here and wait inside your house to provide you with protection."

---