did not appreciate being needled, but she clicked back to images she had culled from Gerald’s murder wall.
She said, “Pia Dankse’s best friend reported that Pia was very worried because her grandmother’s silver hairbrush was missing. Joan Feeney had to borrow a headband from a friend in exercise class because the one she always kept in her gym bag had gone missing. Shay Van Dorne was driving in her car with her neighbor’s daughter. The kid asked to borrow a comb. Van Dorne seemed very concerned that the comb was missing. Also, according to Gerald, all three women reported independently to a friend or family member that they were feeling uneasy before their disappearance, as if they were being watched. So, without any of the bodies, we’ve got two connections. The missing hair accessories and the feeling of being stalked or watched prior to death.”
Sara asked, “Do you know the disposition of the bodies?”
“All but Van Dorne were cremated.” Faith walked over to one of the boards. “Here’s the important thing, though. There’s a pattern to the three recent murders.”
Amanda said, “We have no proof of murder.”
Faith made a face. “Feeney, Danske and Van Dorne. I ran through their social media profiles, checked dating sites, credit reports, addresses, all the usual stuff, but there’s no connection. But then I looked at the calendar. Feeney and Danske both disappeared the last week of March. Van Dorne disappeared the last week of October.”
Sara said, “Tommi Humphrey was attacked the last week of October. Caterino and Truong were attacked in late March.”
Faith said, “And Alexandra McAllister was killed in October. We’ve got a murderer who averages two victims a year, roughly five-to-seven months apart.”
Amanda gave her another sharp look, because that sounded like a serial killer.
Nick said, “The FBI profiler says that the killer thinks about what he’s doing for a while. There’s a fantasy element. Then, something sets him off. Maybe he loses another job or his mother nags him about leaving his socks on the floor, so he pops off.”
“Hold on, I’ve got an update from the lab.” Amanda looked at her phone. She tapped the screen a few times, then silently read. Finally, she told them, “The GBI doesn’t have a record of the Leslie Truong toxicology reports from Grant County eight years ago.”
Nick said, “We were still faxing back then. I might have a copy in my old files. The report would’ve gone from me to Brock with a cc to the Chief.”
Sara said, “It wasn’t in his files.”
Amanda told Nick, “Track it down.”
He closed his briefcase and left.
Sara said, “Brock should have a copy, too.”
“Good.” Amanda said, “Rasheed, go back to the prison and work on the Vasquez murder. Gary, you’ve still got your training wheels on. I need you out of here for this next part.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gary closed his notebook. He left with Rasheed.
Amanda waited until the door was closed.
She told Faith, “Heath Caterino.”
Faith doubted Sara and Will had talked about yesterday’s revelation, so for Sara’s sake, she said, “Beckey Caterino has a seven-year-old son. He’ll turn eight at Christmas.”
Sara bit her bottom lip. She had done the math.
Faith told her about the letter Daryl Nesbitt had sent Gerald from prison. “Gerald supplied us with the DNA report off the saliva from the stamp and envelope seal. An AABB-accredited, court-recognized commercial lab ruled out Daryl Nesbitt as the father.”
“So,” Sara was clearly struggling to make sense of this new detail. “If Daryl isn’t Heath’s father, that means he wasn’t the person who attacked Beckey, which means he wasn’t the person who attacked Leslie Truong.”
Faith tried for the positive. “As soon as we find a suspect, we can prove he raped Beckey through a paternity test that ties him to Heath.”
Amanda said, “We can prove that he had sex with Beckey around the time that she was attacked. Yes, she identified as a lesbian, but any defense lawyer worth his salt would challenge her fluidity. The truth won’t matter. The girl is in no condition to say otherwise.”
Faith leaned her elbows on the podium. She was getting tired of Amanda knocking them down. There were so many flashing signs that they were practically landing on the Vegas strip.
Amanda picked up on her mood. “Faith, you of all people should be familiar with taking baby steps. We move one foot, then we move the other. We don’t jump across the room. Slow and steady builds the case. What about this Love2CMurder website?”
Faith paused to make her reluctance felt.