Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,65
people, we will.”
“I’ll keep an eye on it,” Aaron said, feeling like he’d been given a reprieve.
Stedaman took his seat again and focused on Carson. “You have any more insights on our killer?”
“Most serial killers are male and lifting a half-frozen body just to carry it to a vehicle for transport is going to take muscle, so I do believe your killer is a man.”
“This guy doesn’t seem to have a type of victim.”
Carson nodded. “But I bet there’s something that connects them.”
“Like being homeless,” Jaylon offered.
“Could be that, could be something else. We know Mia was a drug addict. Was Art one or an alcoholic?”
Aaron shook his head. “The autopsy didn’t show signs of liver cirrhosis, but we really don’t know him well enough to know if he was alcoholic or not. Many homeless vets are.”
Brianna picked up her phone. “I can ask Paula.”
“Please don’t,” Carson said, stopping her. “I’d like to talk with her in person. Do you think she’ll be up to it?”
“Getting her home from the hospital wore her out this morning,” Brianna said. “But I don’t see why she couldn’t answer some questions later this afternoon.”
“Good. I’ll meet you at the safehouse then.” He turned back to Stedaman. “In the meantime, I’d like to talk with Investigator Ramos again. Then I may have a preliminary working profile on your guy this evening.”
“Okay. Let’s meet back here at about seven. That will give us time to get more information and dinner,” Stedaman stood and the rest followed. He looked at Jaylon. “Halloway, I’ll reassign your active cases temporarily to someone else. You’re gonna be needed on this thing. I want you to start searching missing persons reports for the past six months.”
“What am I looking for?” he asked.
“Missing homeless people.”
Jaylon groaned. “No one reports homeless people being missing.”
“I know. It sucks, but someone has to do it,” the captain said. “But if we only find one, that’s one more person to possibly add to our profiler’s list.”
“Damn. Put it like that Captain, I’m not sure if I want to find one or not.”
“How’s our girl doing?” Flora asked when Brianna entered the shelter’s administration office after noon.
Brianna smiled. Flora was very tiny, maybe four-foot-ten if she stood on her toes. From the mountains of eastern Virginia—a little rural town called Grundy—she hadn’t had an easy life growing up but seemed to always have a smile ready to brighten your day. She reminded Brianna of those fairy godmothers in one of those cartoon movies.
“They let her come home this morning.” Brianna set her bag on the desk, sat in her chair and opened her computer. “She’s doing much better than when we found her Wednesday. Her breathing isn’t so wheezy and she’s not coughing as much. And her fever broke last night, so the antibiotics must be working.”
“Does she have anyone to help her?” Flora immediately shifted from happy pixie to worried mama cat. Unable to have any kids of her own, she’d always been like the house mother to the women who’d come to the shelter, no matter their age or circumstance. She might be little, but she could hug like a thousand-pound grizzly bear—often, just what the women needed. “I could come over and check on her after work.”
Brianna hated disappointing her, but she couldn’t let her compromise Paula’s safety, no matter how well intentioned her friend might be. And what she was going to tell her next wouldn’t be any easier.
“Paula can’t have any visitors right now, Flora.”
“Oh, is she contagious? You know I have some face masks. I could just put one on and pop in to see her. I won’t stay too long.”
“No. That’s not it. And what I’m going to tell you can’t leave this room, okay?”
Suddenly serious, Flora pushed out of her office chair, marched to the door and closed it quietly before taking her seat once more. “Okay. Tell me whatever it is. You know I won’t say a word.”
And Brianna did know that. Flora held more secrets than the CIA and was much better at keeping them. She once explained that her mother told her, “Flora, when someone shares a secret with you, you are honor-bound to keep it to yourself. No matter if they share it with the whole world, it isn’t your secret to share.”
“Paula can’t have visitors because she’s in a safehouse as a witness in a murder investigation.”
Flora’s eyes grew wide with shocked surprise. “Murder? Whose?”
“A homeless man who she befriended.” Brianna reached out