No one would ever know-not even her mother. Anyone above the age of thirteen was considered, in this circ.u.mstance, to be an adult; no parent signature was needed. Her mother didn't need to know. Her boyfriend didn't need to know. Her friends didn't need to know. Her reputation would have remained unscathed by the scandal of a teen pregnancy. But she'd made the hard choice and gave up everything to have Gabe.

How odd it seemed to her now that the sweet middle-aged woman at the clinic and this cold-blooded killer would share the same ideology. The woman at the clinic never once suggested that she should keep her baby. Instead, she took every opportunity to reinforce Holly's doubts about herself. She wasn't ready to have a child. What kind of life would she give a baby? What kind of mother would she be? Sure, she said it in a sweet gentle voice and with great compa.s.sion, but they were the words of a killer.

"Are you okay, Holly?" Jake had noticed her mood change.

"I think there is a connection with the clinic. I don't know how, but I think there is."

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know. It's just a weird feeling I have about that place. The killer obviously has a real problem with mothers who aren't ready to be mothers. You should have heard him. It was like he was angry at me for choosing to have Gabe, like his life with me was so horrible it wasn't worth living-just because I was his mom. He said it was better to kill him than let him live the life I chose for him."

"Don't let him get in your head, Holly. He's a whack job."

"He knew exactly what to say."

"Have you shared those thoughts with anyone? A boyfriend maybe?"

She shrugged.

"You must have said something to someone."

"I didn't even know I had those thoughts until he started accusing me."

"What men have had contact with Gabe in the past year? Has anyone new come into his life? Anyone who might be connected to the clinic?"

"I don't know, Jake. I know a lot of guys. But I don't believe any of them are capable of something like this. Sure, they're a bunch of losers, but they're good guys."

Jake remained diplomatically silent.

"I know you don't approve of my friends, Jake, but they're good people."

"I'm not saying they aren't."

"But you're not saying they are, either."

"Let's not get into this again, okay? Gabe is out there somewhere in the hands of a very bad man, and we need to figure out who this guy is."

She wanted to be angry; she needed someone to lash out at. It hurt to keep the emotion inside. But Jake was right. She had to get hold of herself and concentrate on finding her son.

"What else is on that website?" she said.

Dan turned back to the screen and scanned through more articles and more photos. Some of the images were from the crime scenes. Holly had to turn away twice to recompose herself. It was desperately hard to look at the dead bodies of the other children. One shot in the head. One found in a dumpster wrapped in plastic. But she forced her eyes to return to the screen each time, if only for the briefest of moments.

"Wait!" She pointed. "Go back to that last picture." She came in and gripped Dan by the shoulders. "I don't believe it!"

Jake scanned the photo on the screen. It was a police barricade with one of the victims, a little boy, lying on the ground. Professional men stood around the body as bystanders watched with intense expressions.

"What do you see, Holly?"

She stabbed at the screen. "There! The man in the yellow shirt. I know him. That's my roommate's boyfriend!"

Chapter 15.

Angela Grant stood when the detective came out of the interrogation room. He set his coffee mug on one desk and his b.u.t.t on another.

The edges of his mouth disappeared into his bushy mustache. "If this is the guy, he is the best actor I've ever seen, and the most nerved up basket-case I've ever seen. He's already confessed to three crimes unrelated to this case, and I'm sure if I pressed him, he'd confess to a dozen more, even if he didn't do them."

"So what'd he do?"

"Well, he thought you were after him for driving migrant workers up from Boston."

"He's helping illegals? That's why he ran?"

"Yup, and he confessed to possession of marijuana."

"So he's not the guy."

"Not unless your killer is a nervous spaz with a trust fund and ent.i.tlement issues."

Perez came in from the break room. "This isn't the guy?" he said in his husky voice.

She pursed her lips. "Nope. He ran for other reasons."

"So what's next?"

"Did you talk with Holly's roommate Amber yet?"

"Yeah. She didn't have much to say. Her job with the airline keeps her away most of the time, and when she is here she's usually in Dedham with her grandmother."

"Has she brought anyone home in the last year?"

"She couldn't remember bringing anyone back to the apartment except a guy named Gary Carter. She's been dating him for a little over a year. He's lived in Sunbury for twelve years at an apartment complex called The Schoolhouse. So unless the serial killer has come home to roost, he's not our guy."

"Talk to him anyway."

"We're already on it."

"How about that list of Holly's friends, how far have we gotten with that?"

"It's like shining a flashlight into a sewer. The rats don't like the light."

"O-kay. Well, we have a lot of ground to cover, and a lot of people to talk to, so let's get on it." She looked at the detective. "Thank you for your a.s.sistance."

"Anytime. You have the complete cooperation of the Sunbury police department. Let us know if we can be of any further help."

She gave him a salutatory nod and left out the door with Agent Perez.

Chapter 16.

The blurry man in the photo wore sungla.s.ses and a baseball cap, and his body was hidden from the chest down. His expression looked neutral, but Jake didn't know for sure because of the harsh lighting and the poor quality of the photo. It could have been anyone with a mustache, beard, and baseball cap.

Jake pulled himself away from the screen. "Are you sure?"

"It's him," she said.

"It's kinda blurry."

"It's definitely him. I've even seen him wear that cap."

Jake looked again. "A lot of people have a Yankees cap."

"Jake. He's been here a dozen times. That's him. Same beard, same round face, same sloping shoulders. That's Amber's boyfriend, Gary. I'm sure of it."

"Then we need to call Agent Grant."

Holly stepped back, crossed her arms, and bit her lip. Jake knew his sister well enough to pick up on her nervous ticks. She was clearly unhappy about the FBI coming back.

"It's all right, Holly."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What?"

He didn't bother to pursue it. Half the time he was either flat out wrong about how she was feeling, or she twisted things to make him think he was wrong. He shrugged it off. "I'll call Agent Grant and let her know what we found." He pulled out the card the Agent had given him. It was a switchboard number, but they transferred him to her cell phone.

"Special Agent Grant."

Jake pressed the phone tighter to his ear. "Agent Grant, this is Jake Paris."

"Hi, Jake. How's your sister holding up?"

"Pretty good, considering."

"That's good to hear."

"Um. We found something we think you might want to know. It's a photo on the Internet from one of the crime scenes. Holly's swears one of the guys in the crowd is her roommate's boyfriend."

"The roommate's boyfriend?" There was a tone of interest in her voice. "Which child was it?"

"The fourth. The little five year old blond boy."

"Okay. Well, we talked with Amber this afternoon and she did mention him, but we haven't spoken with him yet. We appreciate you bringing this to our attention. We'll b.u.mp him up on our priority list."

"Have you heard anything about Gabe?"

"I wish I could say yes, Jake, but unless our guy makes another move, all we can do is follow the bread crumbs."

"Have you seen anything that leads to this guy Gary?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss case details with you, but I a.s.sure you, we have our best people working on this. If you come up with anything else, let us know, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"Thanks for the lead. We'll be talking again soon."

"Okay."

Holly's eyes probed him. "What did she say? Is there a connection?"

"They're not allowed to discuss the case with us."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, but she said they have their best people working on it."

"So what are we supposed to do, just sit on our hands and wait for them to find my son?"

"I don't know, Holly."

Dan interjected. "Why don't we go to this guy's house and ask him some questions."

It was clear Holly didn't like that idea. "If Gary's the killer, then it would be stupid to show up on his door step and say, excuse me, are you holding my son?"

Jake handed the phone out to Holly. "Why don't you call Amber and ask her about him."

"Are you kidding me? What if they're in on this together?"

"I don't think serial killers work in teams. It takes some heavy psychosis to kill little children. I doubt someone like that would be confiding in his girlfriend."

She ran her fingers nervously down her long blond curls and stared absently toward the floor. He couldn't tell if it was his comment about serial killers killing children that had caused her to leave the building, or if it was the nervousness of talking to her roommate about something so emotionally taxing, but he held the phone out toward her and waited patiently for her to return.

"What do I say to her?"

"Just tell her what you know and see if she can help."

Holly took the phone and stabbed some numbers into it, but didn't immediately put it to her ear. It was only when a voice could be heard buzzing in the earpiece that she responded to it.

"Amber, this is Holly. Yes, yes, I'm okay. I need to talk to you about something."