Taking

Then she realized with a sigh …

I’ve got a pretty good idea.

CHAPTER TWO

Special Agent Jake Crivaro stared discontentedly at his scrambled eggs.

I should have gone to that graduation, he thought.

He was sitting in the commissary of the BAU building in Quantico, thinking about Riley Sweeney, his young protégé. Her graduation from the FBI Academy had been two days ago, and he was feeling bad about having skipped it.

Of course, he’d made an excuse for himself—too much paperwork piled up on his desk. But the truth was, he hated those kinds of ceremonies, and he just hadn’t been able to muster up the will to go and sit there in the crowd and listen to speeches he’d heard in so many variations before.

If he had gone, he could have taken the opportunity to tell her face-to-face that he’d personally arranged for her transfer from DC to the Behavioral Analysis Unit here in Quantico.

Instead, he’d let a messenger do that job.

But surely she’d taken the BAU transfer to be good news. After all, her unique talents would be put to much better use here than they would have been in DC.

Then it occurred to Jake that Riley might not even know yet that he’d had her assigned to be his own partner.

He hoped she’d find it a nice surprise to learn that they’d be working together. They’d already made a good team on three pretty tough cases. The youngster could be erratic at times, but she always managed to surprise him with the unusual power of her insight.

I should have at least called her, he reprimanded himself.

Jake looked at his watch and realized that Riley must be on her way here right now, to report for her first day at work.

As he took a sip of coffee, his cell phone rang.

When he took the call, a voice said, “Hey, Jake. Harry Carnes here. Am I catching you at an OK time?”

Jake grinned at the sound of his old friend’s voice. Harry was a retired police detective from Los Angeles. Several years ago, they’d worked together on a celebrity kidnapping case. They’d hit it off well and had stayed in touch.

“Sure, Harry,” Jake said. “It’s great to hear from you. What’s up?”

He heard Harry sigh, then say, “I’ve got something bothering me. I was hoping you might be able to help me out.”

Jake felt a surge of concern.

“I’d be glad to, buddy,” he said. “What’s the problem?”

“Do you remember that Colorado murder case last year? The woman who got killed in Dyson Park?”

Jake was surprised to hear Harry bring it up. When Harry had retired from the LA police force, he and his wife, Jillian, had moved to Gladwin, a tiny town in the Rocky Mountains right next to Dyson Park. A young woman’s body had been found on a hiking trail. Despite his civilian status, Harry had tried to help the police solve the case, but without success.

“Sure, I remember,” Jake said. “Why do you ask?”

A short silence fell.

Then Harry said, “Well … I think it’s happened again.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.

“I think the killer has struck again. Another woman has been murdered.”

Jake felt a jolt of surprise.

He asked, “You mean right there in Dyson Park?”

“No, this time it’s in Arizona. Lemme explain. You know how Jillian and I like to travel south during the winter? Well, we’re in Arizona right now, at a campground not far from Phoenix. This morning on the local news, they said that a young woman’s body had been found on a hiking trail somewhere north of here. I called the local cops, and they were willing to give me a few details.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Jake, the girl’s wrists were all cut up. She must have bled to death somewhere, but not where her body was found. It’s just like the victim in Dyson Park. I’ll bet anything it’s the same killer.”

Jake felt a twinge of skepticism.

“Harry, I don’t know,” he said. “A lot of time has passed since the Colorado killing. There’s a pretty good chance that any resemblance between the two murders is just a coincidence.”

Harry’s voice took on a more urgent tone.

“Yeah, but what if it’s not a coincidence? What if the guy who did the Colorado crime did this one too? What if it turns into some kind of spree?”

Jake suppressed a sigh. He could understand his friend’s reaction. Harry had told him how bitterly disappointed he’d been about not being able to help the Gladwin cops and the Colorado State Patrol catch the local killer. It wasn’t surprising that a new murder with some similar details pushed Harry’s buttons.

But people hiking in a wilderness alone did get killed sometimes. And some people persisted in going out there by themselves in spite of all warnings.

Jake didn’t want to tell Harry flat-out that he thought he was wrong.

But what can I tell him?

Jake didn’t know.

Harry continued, “Jake, I was wondering … do you think you could take this on as a BAU case? I mean, now that there have been two murders in two different states?”

Jake was feeling more and more uneasy.

He said, “Harry, that’s not how things usually work. It’s up to the police out there in Arizona to ask for the FBI’s help. And as far as I know, they haven’t done that. Until they do, it’s none of our business. Now maybe if you could get them to call the FBI …”

Harry interrupted. “I’ve already tried that. I can’t convince these cops that the murders are connected. And you know how local cops can be about the FBI stepping onto their turf. They’re not crazy about the idea.”

Jake thought, No, I don’t guess they are.

He found it easy to imagine how the police in Arizona might react to some retired cop trying to convince them they were missing something important. But Harry was actually right about one thing. If a killer committed murders in more than one state, the FBI didn’t need an invitation to get on the case. If Harry was right about it being the same killer, the FBI could open an investigation.

If Harry was right.

Jake took a long, slow breath. “Harry, I really don’t know if I can do anything about this on my end. It would be a hard sell, trying to get the people in charge here to make this an official FBI thing. For one thing, you know perfectly well the FBI won’t take a case if the local cops think it’s just a single murder. But …”

“But what?”