“Trust me, this guy probably is paranoid, no matter what.”
She prepared what she called the “payload” while chew-chew-chewing her gum to oblivion. Meanwhile, Tatum phoned Peter-call-me-Damien to get his username and password for the forum. It took some very specific threats, which Tatum was totally willing to actually follow up on, before Peter relented. The username was Abchanchu. Tatum also instructed Peter to stay off the forum for the foreseeable future.
Logging in as Abchanchu, Tatum checked the list of members currently logged on to the forum. Dracula2 was offline. He opened the chat between Abchanchu and Dracula2, skimming it. Dracula2 had told Abchanchu that his donor was female, weighed about 125 pounds, and was five feet, six inches tall. Tatum forwarded this information to Martinez to make sure it matched with Rhea. Then he sent a message with the chart to Dracula2 and wrote, Hey, you can see the recommended amount of donated blood in the attached chart. He fought the urge to ask for details. Who is your donor? or Where do you live? I know a good place to buy syringes. Any unprompted question could spook Dracula2. And he needed him to open the file.
He checked the online members. Dracula2 was still offline.
Tatum glanced at the time at the bottom corner of the screen. It was twenty minutes past three. “Come on, you bastard,” he muttered. “Where are you?”
CHAPTER 49
Zoe scrutinized the photos on the table. Shots of the street from different angles, a close-up image of a bloodstained lamppost. A handbag discarded on the sidewalk, its contents scattered. A picture of Rhea Deleon from her clinic’s website, smiling at the camera, hugging a large dog.
She leaned back, her eyes glazing, hardly taking in the other occupants of the room. Martinez in one corner, talking to Captain Bright, both of them hunched over a stack of reports. Agent Valentine pacing the room, talking on the phone. O’Donnell, Koch, and Sykes arguing about their actions going forward. Status reports, instructions, questions. She lowered her eyes, filtered it all out, concentrated.
And the main question she had to address, before she could address any other, was who called the shots.
She was almost certain Glover had planned the first two murders. But this abduction didn’t feel like Glover. It was too random, too dangerous, too far from his comfort zone. Grabbing a woman in the middle of the street?
He’d have to be desperate to do it.
Then again, he was dying, his time running out. Maybe he didn’t care anymore. He was on his final crime spree, inflicting as much damage as he could. It was possible.
It felt wrong.
“We have the tech report on the tires,” O’Donnell said, sitting down beside her.
“Anything interesting?”
“The tires are very worn, different from the previous one, meaning they switched vehicles. But it’s a van. Possibly even the same make.”
Zoe nodded distractedly.
“Any thoughts so far?” O’Donnell asked.
“This wasn’t planned,” Zoe said. “This was an impulsive act.”
“I agree. This wasn’t a street in which women typically walked around in the middle of the night. According to her parents, Rhea Deleon usually left her job early in the evening. They had no way of knowing she’d be there. Or anyone else for that matter.”
“They drove by, saw her, and then they grabbed her.”
“So . . . what? Is Glover becoming more unpredictable?”
Zoe frowned. “The murder of Henrietta Fishburne was carefully and diligently planned. The car, the location, the time, the gear they brought with them. They moved the body and spent an hour posing it for some reason. Everything followed an agenda. And then just four days later, this happens?” She looked at O’Donnell. “This wasn’t Glover’s doing. This is his accomplice. He’s spiraling out of control. Out of Glover’s control.”
“He’s cracking?”
“Exactly.” Zoe thought for a moment. “We should interview some of the male congregation members from Riverside Baptist.”
O’Donnell raised an eyebrow. “Now? Why?”
“Glover’s accomplice is going through an intense psychotic episode, which led to this crime,” Zoe explained. “That means that he’d be much easier to spot during an interview.”
O’Donnell shook her head. “Maybe. But we don’t have the people or the time to do it. As a matter of fact, we still don’t even have a complete list of congregation members. And what if we do it and find nothing?”
“We can prioritize the list—”
“Valentine and Bright don’t even believe the accomplice is necessarily from the congregation.”
“But you do.”
“I think it’s probable. But that’s not enough. We can’t base our entire investigation on your