was chockful of canned goods and bottled water. A bit of a prepper’s paradise.” He wiped a hand over his mouth. “There was an anteroom between two shelves we missed because it wasn’t lit. The killer installed a barred security door to lock the girls in there.”
That far out in the woods, and that deep in the ground, no one would have heard their screams.
“No fingerprints on the mural, despite the tape,” Asa added, “but those are easily wiped with magic.”
“The generator was dead when they arrived.” I rubbed my jaw. “It had a twenty-four-hour fuel tank.”
“What bothers me isn’t that timeline,” Asa said, “but the one here.”
“We know the killer was in Samford—” Clay checked his watch, “—nine hours ago now.”
“There have been multiple incidents, minor ones, since you left.” Asa tapped a finger on the table. “All of them easily explained away.”
A shiver of dread rippled down my spine. “Are you saying we’ve got a pair of copycats?”
“That’s a big leap,” Clay warned. “The evidence doesn’t support your theory.”
“One killer at the trailer, selecting victims,” Asa suggested. “The other in the cave, keeping them alive.”
“You think one killer stayed in North Carolina after I arrived,” I murmured, “and the other came here.”
From the first night, the second killer had been nosing around the property, testing its defenses.
Yes.
That felt right.
“It’s a compelling argument,” Clay allowed. “For now, let’s track the killer we know.”
That was the whole problem. We didn’t know him. Potentially either of them. Not yet.
An idea tickled the back of my mind. “Do we have the recordings of the first two crime scenes?”
“The Kellies sent them over with the third you requested,” Asa confirmed. “I’ll email you both a link.”
“Here we go,” I murmured, clicked, and then swore. “The same person filmed this.”
The style was the same, and style wasn’t a word I ever heard used in reference to crime scene footage.
“Billy Kidd,” Asa supplied when I blanked. “I’ll check the second recording for credits.”
Less than a minute later, he came back with confirmation the same agent had done all the camera work.
“The Bureau called in multiple teams.” Clay watched his screen, a deep line bisecting his wide brow. “It’s not surprising one guy, let alone a junior agent, got stuck with the drudgework.”
Grasping at straws, I was grasping at straws, and I didn’t care. We had no other leads. We had nothing.
“Get the Kellies to draw us a timeline of Billy Kidd’s movements the last few days.” We could start there. “If they push back, tell them we have an eyewitness account. Our suspect is, or might be impersonating, a Black Hat agent.” I had another idea. “Can you pull up a photo of Agent Kidd?” I flipped through my files and hit pay dirt. “I’ve got one of Olsen.”
In seconds, Asa emailed me the image, and I carried my laptop to where Colby sat in her rig.
“Hey, punk.” I tested a theory. “Can you look at a couple of pictures for me?”
The quick swivel of her eyes toward me confirmed she had been listening in and not playing her game.
Given what she had been through, I didn’t have it in me to scold her for disobeying me.
“Yeah.” She removed the headset. “What kind of pictures?”
“Nothing bad,” I rushed to assure her. “I have two headshots of possible suspects.”
“Okay.” She studied my screen when I pivoted it toward her. “I don’t recognize either of them.”
I didn’t ask her if she was sure. I didn’t want to pressure her into making a false ID to please me.
“Thanks.” I lifted her headset. “Try turning this on next time.”
Her antennae drooped at having been caught, but she didn’t apologize, and I doubt she obeyed me.
Kids these days.
This was why I wasn’t cut out to be a mother. I could do the auntie deal, but parenting was too hard.
Back at the table, I joined the others and shook my head, though I was sure they overheard us.
“She cleared Olsen and Kidd.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but disappointment pushed it out of me. “That doesn’t mean much, as far as Olsen is concerned. We don’t know who took over his identity.” That brought me to another salient point. “And, if there are two of them, they might both be wearing masques.”
Humans had it so much easier. Their criminals’ disguises were laughable in comparison to the magic that allowed skilled practitioners, in multitudes of disciplines, to fundamentally change their appearance on a whim. Some paranormal creatures, like fae,