Profiled by Renee Andrews Page A

additional kink in their plan was evident.
    “Estimated it could be up to a week.”
    “We don’t have a week. We don’t even have a day.” Lexie looked to Angel for guidance. “Can you pull some strings with the FBI to speed things up?”
    No one in the room seemed to think her question over the top, judging from the way they looked toward the profiler to hear her answer.
    “I’ll make a few calls. I’m assuming the state still has the files on hard copy as well? They haven’t scanned them into their database?”
    “That’s what they said,” Tucker answered.
    “Super. Well, I’ll light a fire under them but if they’re going through everything by hand, I won’t be surprised if their estimate is on the money. And we can’t afford to wait a week.” She slammed the cover closed on Bible Numerology. “What did you find in the other three months?”
    “Two boys and one girl,” Tucker said.
    “A description of the girl?” Pierce asked.
    “Brunette. And she was only eight.”
    “Not our victim.” Angel sighed. “I’m going to make those calls.” She withdrew her cell phone from her purse and left the room.
    Lexie’s stomach churned. So many women were in danger, and the task force was at a dead end. “What are we going to do now?”
    “Media.” Pierce surveyed the remainder of the task force for their response. “I don’t like dealing with them any more than you guys.” He gave an apologetic one shouldered shrug to Lexie. “No offense.”
    “None taken.”
    “But in this case, the more coverage the better. I saw your broadcast on this morning’s news, McCain. It was good, but I need you to do more.”
    “Okay, what do you want?”
    “Tucker, what are your thoughts on this? Any ideas on how far we take it?”
    Tucker didn’t miss a beat. “All the way.”
    Pierce nodded. “Agreed. Okay, we’re going to come up with a statement for the press, and we’ll let McCain deliver it as soon as possible. It will need to be covered in all forms of media, the Telegraph, all local radio stations and on television, with Ms. McCain our primary link to the public. Make sure it gets in all of today’s newscasts.” The captain looked at the group. “All of Macon needs to be aware of the situation.”
    Lexie also agreed with the captain’s direction. “What do we want to tell them?”
    “Everything, the profile as well as his signature. We need every woman fitting his criteria to be protected. No one who fits his target base should be alone. They shouldn’t so much as step foot in their front yard without someone with them.”
    “What if he goes for the chosen victim and her friend?” Sims asked.
    “It isn’t his MO. He takes one victim at a time, every forty days, starting forty days prior to Easter.”
    Angel returned to the room with strands of blonde hair falling from a band barely containing her ponytail. She looked tired...and determined. “You’re going to tell the public everything?”
    “Yeah,” Pierce answered. “I realize most folks who’ve lived in Macon for years are already aware of what this guy will do, but for the ones who’ve just moved here, or for the teens who may not remember, we have to put it all out there.”
    “Exactly. We need to bring him out into the open. That’s the best method to combat his plan of action. Plus, I have additional information to add to our profile.” She plopped down in her chair, grabbed one of the books in front of her and started quoting, “Seven, the number for completeness. Seven is formed by taking the perfect world number, four, and adding it to the perfect divine number, three. Human physiology is based on a law of sevens. Gestation for humans is two hundred eighty days, divisible by seven.”
    “Forty weeks.” Lexie followed Angel’s reasoning. “But he’s committing the murders every seven years and spacing them forty days apart. That doesn’t match those numbers.”
    “I know.” Angel flipped pages in another book.