Blood of Eden by Tami Dane

have on Laura Miller?”
    â€œShe was a sales rep for a medical supply firm. She owned the house she lived in, but shared it with a longtime friend and her friend’s daughter. She lived a relatively quiet lifestyle when she wasn’t traveling for work. She spent her spare time at home, writing. She was working on a novel. She hadn’t dated anyone recently, hadn’t been acting different, and hasn’t traveled anywhere south of the Virginia–North Carolina border. Her roommate noticed nothing out of the ordinary before her death. And she hadn’t appeared sick.”
    Just like Debbie Richardson.
    Gabe was the only one who didn’t have anything to report. Whatever he’d been doing yesterday, it hadn’t been working on our case.
    â€œAll right. Let’s take a look at our unsub,” Chief Peyton said, moving to the whiteboard and uncapping a black dry-erase marker. “What do we know about him or her?”
    â€œDo we know from the DNA his or her gender?” I asked.
    â€œAt this point, no.” Chief Peyton wrote a capital G and a question mark.
    â€œHis or her mode of killing is disease,” I stated.
    â€œHe bites his victims, leaving marks that are not characteristic of a human bite,” JT added, pointing to the close up of one of the victim’s neck wounds. “We see only canine punctures. No incisors. And no lower-teeth marks.”
    â€œHe must have some seriously long canines,” Gabe said. “Could be wearing fake fangs.”
    Could be. But why?
    â€œIs he delusional?” I asked.
    Chief Peyton shook her head. “I doubt it. The killings don’t appear to be that of a disorganized killer. However, we don’t have an MO yet. All we have is a victim type—female in her thirties, brunette, and living close to a park or school. But we don’t know yet how he approaches or overcomes his victim, what tools he uses in his killing, or the time and place the crimes occurred.”
    â€œWhat about a signature?” I asked. “Are the bites a signature? Could he be killing to bite, rather than biting to kill?”
    Chief Peyton nodded. “It’s a possibility.”
    Tapping his pencil against his notebook, Fischer added, “The unsub doesn’t kill right away. He relinquishes control after the attack, risking the victim identifying him. That’s the action of a confident killer—”
    â€œOr a disorganized one,” I added. “Psychotic killers don’t fear being caught, because they don’t realize what they’ve done is wrong.”
    â€œTrue. We have a lot of work to do.” Chief Peyton pointed at the clock. “And not a lot of time to get it done. We have just over two hours to figure out who the unsub is and stop him, or another woman is going to die.” She pointed at Fischer. “Fischer, I want you and Wagner to go through the coroner’s reports for all three victims with a fine-tooth comb. Look for any clues that might lead us to a crime scene. Trace evidence, fibers, that kind of thing.” She pointed at JT. “JT, I want you and Skye to retrace the steps of all three victims on the day they died. Where did they go? Who did they talk to?”
    â€œBut there’s no way they could have been infected the same day they died,” I piped in. “The diseases were too far progressed. Take Laura Miller, for example. The incubation period for malaria is seven days, minimum, meaning she was infected at least a week before she died... .” The significance of that fact sent a chill racing up my spine.
    The next victim was probably already infected. She just didn’t know it yet. There was a ticking time bomb set to go off inside her body.
    How could we stop a killer who could be as much as a week ahead of us? And was there any chance we could save his next victim?
    â€œThat may be true. They may have been infected days, or weeks, before they