Kendra standing behind me and Mal gives me a raised eyebrow in confirmation, but I keep talking. Nothing gets a woman riled up more than keeping her out of the loop. Besides, news that Cayman may not have been the guy would probably be a relief. I don’t even look up when she finally pulls out a chair and sits next to me. I just put my hand on her knee and give it a squeeze. The ping on my laptop indicates an email and I quickly open the file attached.
“Have a look at this. Is this Cayman?” I ask Kendra, turning the screen to face her. She leans in close and squints her eyes.
“I think so. I mean he seems much younger and isn’t wearing glasses, but I can see the resemblance.”
I turn the screen back and close the lid. “Good. They’re using this picture of him to confirm his presence at the conference.”
“So does that mean he’s not the one?” she asks, the hopeful note in her voice unmistakable. “I mean, I know he sent me that vile text, and is creepy as shit, but if he’s been in Grand Junction this whole time...” She lets the sentence trail off, and looks at me to reassure her. Before I have the chance, Mal jumps in.
“It looks that way, but don’t celebrate just yet,” he tells her solemnly. “We still have a few unexplained things on the table. Like your map? Somehow that ended up from Cayman’s hand, who got it from you, into Tracy Poole’s. We shouldn’t let down our guards until we have a bead on the guy.”
She takes a minute to consider that and then nods her head firmly. “Okay, so what are we looking for?” she says, grabbing for one of the file folders.
“Whoa.” I stop her, covering her hand with mine. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I can’t go anywhere, I’ve already unpacked, I’ve just about had my fill of meal prep for the week, and I don’t like sitting idle, so tell me how I can help.”
With a smirk and a dismissive wave of his hand, Mal dives back into the file he was working, leaving me to deal with Kendra. Nice .
-
T he afternoon passes slowly. No calls coming in and I’ve managed to compile a list for the four victims, and so far two other missing women who all had a profile up on some dating site at some point. Kendra has turned out to be a great help. Something about the way the female mind works when coming up with passwords. Some of the accounts were easy to get into but there’d been the two I was stuck on. After giving those files to her, she started shooting off possible combinations to try. Damned if I wasn’t able to gain entry to each of their profiles within half an hour. Now it was a matter of finding commonalities other than the ones we’re already aware of that might shed some light.
That’s what we are doing—pulling e-mails from their online suitors, looking for similarities in name, or writing—when someone starts banging on the front door. Kendra’s out of her chair and halfway to the door by the time I catch up with her. I manage to stop her with my arm around her waist.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hiss in her ear, as she struggles against my hold. “You don’t just go to open the door.”
Mal passes us with his weapon drawn but hidden behind his back as he carefully pulls the door open a crack. Only to have it pushed open all the way from the other side, throwing him off-balance. I don’t hesitate to pull Kendra behind me. A cloud of floral perfume assaults me as an immaculately decked out, but extremely agitated older woman comes barging in.
“Who are all you people? And where is my daughter?”
I can feel Kendra freeze behind me. “Mom?” With her hands holding on to my waist, she pokes her head under my arm.
“What’s going on here, Kenny?”
While her mother and Kendra move in for a hug, Mal quickly tucks the gun back in his ankle holster. When I look back at the women, Kendra’s mom has her arm around her shoulders and is looking back and forth between Mal and I. “Kenny?
“Have a look at this. Is this Cayman?” I ask Kendra, turning the screen to face her. She leans in close and squints her eyes.
“I think so. I mean he seems much younger and isn’t wearing glasses, but I can see the resemblance.”
I turn the screen back and close the lid. “Good. They’re using this picture of him to confirm his presence at the conference.”
“So does that mean he’s not the one?” she asks, the hopeful note in her voice unmistakable. “I mean, I know he sent me that vile text, and is creepy as shit, but if he’s been in Grand Junction this whole time...” She lets the sentence trail off, and looks at me to reassure her. Before I have the chance, Mal jumps in.
“It looks that way, but don’t celebrate just yet,” he tells her solemnly. “We still have a few unexplained things on the table. Like your map? Somehow that ended up from Cayman’s hand, who got it from you, into Tracy Poole’s. We shouldn’t let down our guards until we have a bead on the guy.”
She takes a minute to consider that and then nods her head firmly. “Okay, so what are we looking for?” she says, grabbing for one of the file folders.
“Whoa.” I stop her, covering her hand with mine. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I can’t go anywhere, I’ve already unpacked, I’ve just about had my fill of meal prep for the week, and I don’t like sitting idle, so tell me how I can help.”
With a smirk and a dismissive wave of his hand, Mal dives back into the file he was working, leaving me to deal with Kendra. Nice .
-
T he afternoon passes slowly. No calls coming in and I’ve managed to compile a list for the four victims, and so far two other missing women who all had a profile up on some dating site at some point. Kendra has turned out to be a great help. Something about the way the female mind works when coming up with passwords. Some of the accounts were easy to get into but there’d been the two I was stuck on. After giving those files to her, she started shooting off possible combinations to try. Damned if I wasn’t able to gain entry to each of their profiles within half an hour. Now it was a matter of finding commonalities other than the ones we’re already aware of that might shed some light.
That’s what we are doing—pulling e-mails from their online suitors, looking for similarities in name, or writing—when someone starts banging on the front door. Kendra’s out of her chair and halfway to the door by the time I catch up with her. I manage to stop her with my arm around her waist.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hiss in her ear, as she struggles against my hold. “You don’t just go to open the door.”
Mal passes us with his weapon drawn but hidden behind his back as he carefully pulls the door open a crack. Only to have it pushed open all the way from the other side, throwing him off-balance. I don’t hesitate to pull Kendra behind me. A cloud of floral perfume assaults me as an immaculately decked out, but extremely agitated older woman comes barging in.
“Who are all you people? And where is my daughter?”
I can feel Kendra freeze behind me. “Mom?” With her hands holding on to my waist, she pokes her head under my arm.
“What’s going on here, Kenny?”
While her mother and Kendra move in for a hug, Mal quickly tucks the gun back in his ankle holster. When I look back at the women, Kendra’s mom has her arm around her shoulders and is looking back and forth between Mal and I. “Kenny?
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