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JAMESON

“I’ll be around if you have questions. Thank you, and let’s go find her,” I stated with a firm nod.

As the group filed out of the room, I studied the officers’ and detectives’ behavior. While delivering the profile, I’d spotted one in particular toward the back of the crowd who appeared uncomfortable, fidgety almost, unlike the others, who were either attentive or blatantly annoyed at having their time wasted by my bullshit.

A scoff or eye roll was normal. There were many old-school thinkers out there who didn’t believe in profiling and how it can help identify an unsub quicker and with fewer casualties. Certain aspects of the profile added another layer of complication. Some men were unsympathetic toward the unsub because of the reason she killed. The comments after I’d suggested she or someone very close to her was a victim of sexual assault were sexist and disgusting. After one jackass asked why the unsub couldn’t just get over it and move on, Slade came to stand beside me, crossing both arms over his wide chest.

The comments immediately stopped.

But while I delivered the details, Detective Gray wasn’t angry at the profile, more troubled. I didn’t know what her odd behavior was about, but I sure as hell would look into it later. Standing beside her, Detective Savage diligently listened and took notes while I spoke, occasionally slicing death glares at the officers who made the inappropriate comments about the unsub.

“That went better than expected,” I said offhandedly to Slade as we walked out of the bullpen, heading for Rain’s office.

“I can’t believe those fuckers said that shit,” he grumbled while rubbing a hand over his face. “I need some fucking coffee after that.”

“You are looking a little tired there, Detective. Something keep you up late last night?” I shot him a smirk as we turned a corner. “Or should I say someone?”

“Actually had the best sleep in a long time with her beside me. I’m fairly certain I molded around her like she was my personal body pillow.” My barked laugh echoed down the hall. “Thanks for letting me have some one-on-one time with her last night.”

Palm wrapped around the doorknob, I pulled the door to Rain’s office open and went straight for the fancy coffee machine. I held up an empty mug in Slade’s direction, a silent question if he also wanted some. At his grunt in confirmation, I turned to the machine and grabbed a prefilled pod.

“If this is going to work, we can’t be selfish with her.” The machine whirred to life. I focused on the streaming dark liquid as it splashed into the white mug, mind spinning back to earlier. “A few of the questions earlier were valid. We haven’t narrowed down how the unsub identifies her targets. Then once she does, there’s the question ofhowshe gets their personal information to find and stalk them.”

Finger hooked through the handle, I pulled the mug out from under the spout and handed it to Slade. Mine was almost done brewing when he finally answered.

“The two past assault accusations that we tied to the current case happened years ago, so we can rule out her waiting for one to happen and then reacting. We have five bodies in under a year. She’s getting her intel somewhere now.”

“Agreed. So, her assault happened within the past two years to trigger the start of this mission she’s on.” Hot mug in hand, I settled in the armchair and blew across the black surface. “We should look into reports filed in the last five to ten years.”

“And where nothing happened after she came forward.”

I nodded and texted one-handed, asking Charlie to look into that angle. “So maybe one victim was her assailant, but we haven’t found the accusation or case file yet. It still doesn’t explain how she finds out about the other attacks to target the other men. Who would have knowledge about local sexual assault cases, past and current?”

“Stating the obvious, police officers or detectives.” That sent my mind snapping back to the anxious detective from earlier. “But I would’ve heard if any were a victim of a crime, more so if they were sexually assaulted,” Slade continued.

I deflated. He was right. That would be talked about and moved to the top of the caseload, labeled top priority. No one would let it go unsolved. And I was almost positive the unsub’s assault happened recently, within the past year or so. She wouldn’t be able to hold back her rage at the injustice done to her for long. Which meant Slade would know about it if it happened in Santa Coasta.

“So, who else would know about an assault without an actual case filed, which would have shown up on our searches?” I asked, and we both paused, racking our brains.

“Therapists,” Slade muttered eventually. “Nurses or doctors who treated the victims. Counselors at victim centers, support groups—either the leaders or other members who heard others’ stories.”

I blew out a breath. “Fuck, that’s a lot of people to talk to.”

“Social media,” he mused. “That’s how she could get their personal information. People are idiots these days with what they put out there for anyone to see. A name is all that’s needed, and then boom, she has everything necessary to find them.”

My cell phone vibrated along my thigh with an incoming call. Setting the nearly empty mug down on the coffee table, I swiped my thumb across the screen to answer and immediately hit the speaker button.

“Charlie. You’re on speakerphone.” I set the phone next to my coffee mug, and Slade shifted on the small couch to lean forward, gaze locked on the screen. “You already have something for me on that search I asked you to run?”

“It’s why I’m calling. It’ll take a bit to get those records pulled. Remember that snuff film site the fuckers who took Remy and Tinley ran?”

“What the hell?” Slade hissed.

I waved him off. “Yeah, of course I remember.” How could I forget the two psychopaths who targeted Tallon’s sister and our former one-night stand? “I thought all that was wrapped up. What’s going on?”

“I found a back door and now have the various IP addresses of their full past subscriber and viewer list. Anyone who ever logged in to the site, I have a way to backtrace them.” The excitement in his tone stirred the same within me. This was huge. Anyone who was into watching live torture and murder needed to be behind bars before they tried to mimic the same themselves. “I’m working with the agency and Interpol as I dig up personal information on these bastards. We’re talking hundreds of people, Jameson.”

“Wow.” I slumped back in the chair and swiped a palm across my mouth. “That’s beyond….” I couldn’t come up with the right word. “That’s fucking amazing, Charlie.”

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