He’d been reading up a bit about things like micro-expressions. Supposedly, the tiniest movements of the facial muscles could give away the whole story about what someone was thinking inside. Of course, you had to be pretty much a savant to read them all. Not even then. You’d need specialist equipment that could slow down someone’s movements in your vision, like playing video footage real slow. And real close up, too.

He didn’t have the luxury of those things, which was a shame. A huge shame. Because he had to observe them as closely as he could and figure out what kind of a person they were, and it would have been easy as hell if he’d been able to read their minds.

He ducked into a store, sensing that he’d been almost caught a couple times too many on this trip. The target kept looking around as if he felt that he was being watched. That was different, too. The other one hadn’t had any idea. It was one of the things that made him so certain now that he was right.

That he had the right one. This was the one he had to focus on next. The one he would strike first.

But it was early in the day still, frustratingly so. As he walked down the street, the man wove between other pedestrians, and cars flashed by them all the time. There were faces in windows, eyes in all the stores. There was no way he could do anything now.

He was going to have to wait. As much as it irked him, knowing that this man was alive and walking around, he couldn’t exactly go right up to him now and attack. Aside from anything else, he was sure to be caught right afterwards, and that was a risk he didn’t want to take.

If he was caught now, it would all be over. And then there would be no one left to do what needed to be done. No one else would take up the burden that he had to carry.

But still, he had the right one. He squared his shoulders, formulating a plan. He couldn’t strike now, but he could spend the time putting things into place. Making sure that he was ready when the time did come.

He let the man disappear out of his sight, knowing that it was unwise to push things too far. To get caught watching him. He knew enough now, had seen enough. There was nothing more to do.

Nothing but to wait, and plan, and prepare for the coming darkness that would shield him while he did what he knew was right.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Laura snatched up her ringing phone, putting it to her ear as she answered. The loud noise had snapped her out of her thoughts, which was welcome. All she was doing was spiraling, trying to think of ways to work on this case quickly without pushing Nate even further away—or making things even more uncomfortable. Since lunch, all she’d been doing was going over the same ground over and over, trying to look for something she might have missed in the crime scene notes or the dating app messages or the friend and family connections. Any clue that would lead her to another pair of twins, another set of victims.

“Hello?” she said, her eyes drifting over the computer screen and the last record she’d been idly looking up.

“Am I speaking to FBI Agent Laura Frost?”

Laura sat up straighter, realizing that this wasn’t the kind of call she had been expecting. It wasn’t Detective Frome or Chief Gausse calling, and she didn’t recognize the voice as one of the parents of the twins. “Yes, this is she.”

“My name is Maria Greene, I’m calling from Child Protective Services,” she said, her voice professional and steady. She spoke at a fair clip, obviously running through a script that she had to use every time she made a phone call. “I understand that you were recently closely involved in a case which required a minor to be taken from her home.”

“Amy Fallow,” Laura said, sitting on the edge of her chair anxiously. “Yes, that’s right.” From the corner of her eye she noticed Nate looking at her, but he didn’t say anything out loud.

“All right. I have it on my notes here to make sure to notify you of updates in her case file, and we have managed to make a breakthrough today.”

Laura’s heart was beating hard in her chest. A breakthrough? What did that mean? Her words were so clinical, like she could have been talking about anyone—or anything. A piece of evidence that was being filed. “Is she all right?” Laura asked, which was all she really wanted to know.

“Yes, I believe the child is in good hands as we speak,” Maria replied. She remained even, calm, as though there was nothing in the world that could hurry her or make her panic. “We wanted to let you know that we have been able to track down a next-of-kin for her, and that person has agreed to take on her care. She won’t be entering the care or foster system.”

“Okay,” Laura said. She felt unsteady, like the wind was blowing in two directions at once and she didn’t know which way to let it drive her. Was this good news or not? She didn’t know how to tell. “Who is the new guardian?”

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t divulge that information,” Maria said, again just like she was reading from a script. “All we are required to tell you is that the child’s case is now being moved on to the next stage, and that she does have a guardian confirmed. Further information can only be obtained if it is relevant to a court case or an ongoing crime.”

“What if it is relevant?” Laura asked, beginning to panic. Amy was going to live with someone else. What if that someone was just like her father? Someone who would beat her, terrorize her? Someone worse?

“You would need to speak with a judge in order to get the information,” Maria said.

“Well, where is she going? Is she at least staying in the state?” Laura asked. How was she supposed to check up on Amy, make sure that she was all right, if she had no idea where to find her?

“Ma’am, I’m not authorized to divulge that information,” Maria repeated. “I would advise you to speak with a judge if you have reason to believe that a crime is being committed. If there is a pending court case, which I’m seeing there is on file, you will most likely hear the information in court.”

The trial of Governor Fallow—ex-Governor Fallow, now—would be a long way away. If he even went to a full trial. He’d been caught quite literally red-handed. There were two FBI agents ready to testify against him, plus a wealth of physical evidence. The most likely thing for him to do would be to just plead guilty and get his sentence. In that case, Laura wouldn’t be able to hear anything about Amy at all.

And even if he was stubborn and insisted on pleading guilty, citing something like not being in his right mind, it would be months until anything happened.

“That will take too long,” Laura said, desperately. “How can I find out if she’s all right now?”

The social worker paused, as if weighing her words. “I’m afraid the only way for you to have further contact with her at this stage would be if the guardian was to reach out to you directly,” she said, sounding for the first time lik


Tags: Blake Pierce Thriller