Paul shook his head. "Nope. Hypnosis isn't even an option, because with hypnosis, you're looking for a repressed memory. Unfortunately, with this drug, the way it works on the mind, there's no memory to bring forth."

"And you know this, how?" she asked.

Paul pursed his lips. "I was in pharmaceutical school for two years before I dropped out."

Dominic shook his head. "Scopolamine. I'd never heard of it before this case, but now that you say the name, I recognize it from seeing it in one of Drake's files. Where does the drug come from? Where would someone like this killer get it?"

"It comes from Bogota, Colombia, mostly," Paul said. "That's where the tree grows. But most people who want to use it illegally don't bother harvesting the drug from the seeds that are scattered all over. They just get it from Ecuador already in drug form. It's used for human trafficking, robbing people blind, all kinds of rotten things."

"Is it available in the States?"

"Yes, just not very widespread as it is in Bogota."

Dominic rubbed a hand down his cheek. "Why is the fact that this drug was in Leslie's system so interesting?"

Serena exchanged a look with Paul, then turned her gaze to the white board with the nine known victims of the Doll Maker Killer. "Because it was found in the systems of every one of those girls."

19.

THURSDAY, 4:00 P.M.

Dominic eyed the chart. "Okay, I think it's beyond time to pay Mr. Drake Lindell a visit."

Paul stepped around and said, "I'm going to leave that stuff to you guys. I have another appointment I need to get to if you don't need me anymore."

"Sure, go on," Serena said. Then she looked at Dominic. "I guess it's just you and me then."

"I guess." He smiled. That worked just fine for him.

"I'll need to take my car, though. I might be meeting a friend later."

"Oh." Hoping he sounded casual, he asked, "So, who are you meeting? Alexia?"

"No. Another friend."

"Ah." She didn't want to tell? She was meeting a guy? The dart of jealousy took him by surprise.

Then she sighed. "I'm working with some girls, troubled girls who've been kicked out of their home, runaways, et cetera. One particular kid who has a grip on my heart seems to need a little extra TLC. And I find myself wanting to give it to her." She looked at Dominic. "It's Camille, the one who showed up at my house last night. She really needs to know someone cares about her, and I told her I'd meet her today at the park."

Relief swept over him. It wasn't a guy. Then the rest of her words registered and admiration filled him. "When do you find time to do that?"

A smile curved her lips. "I don't find it, I make it."

As he walked Serena to her rental car, he picked up his phone and called Terry O'Donnell at BSU, Quantico. Although Terry's main job with the Behavioral Science Unit was as a research a.n.a.lyst, he spent a lot of his time tracking down missing people. "Hey, I want you to check on the Lindell family."

"Lindell? Drake Lindell? The Doll Maker Killer?"

"That's the one. See if there's any connection between them and Ecuador or Bogota, Colombia, will you?"

"Sure."

Thirty minutes later, Dominic stepped into the prison and felt Serena behind him.

He couldn't believe she'd insisted on being there. But he supposed the doll on his doorstep and the one in her car had freaked her out enough that she took the threat personally.

He didn't blame her.

If the tilt to her chin said anything about the way she felt, he figured it might be in his-and Drake's-best interest to stay out of her way.

Or be honest and tell her what she needed to hear.

"You okay?"

"Just fine, thanks."

The metal door clanked shut behind them and Serena flinched. She composed herself fast enough, but her moment of vulnerability touched him, made him want to protect her.

He squelched the feeling.

For now.

Walking the corridors of the prison made her nervous. Like she'd done something wrong. And when they were ushered into a small visiting area, her pulse rate accelerated and she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

Claustrophobia.

"Is he going to be in the room with us?"

"Yes. We'll also have a guard in the room and one outside the door."

"I thought he'd be on one side of the gla.s.s and we'd be on the other." The thought of coming face-to-face with the man who'd killed those women turned her stomach. And made her mad.

Dominic shot her a glance. "Are you going to be all right?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine. I've just never really come across anything like this in all my days of working as an ME." She'd had some doozies but had definitely never walked into a prison to confront a killer.

"You don't have to stay. I can do this, and I promise I'll tell you everything."

Serena shook her head. "For some reason, I feel compelled to stay." At his raised brow, she said, "Don't worry, it's not because of some weird fascination. The killer has made this personal. He's made this about me-and you. I'm hoping Mr. Lindell will have some answers about that. And I might have a question or two for him I need to be here to ask. To see his face when he answers."

Dominic didn't have a chance to respond. The door clanked open. One guard entered followed by the prisoner and another guard.

She was rather relieved to see he had chains on his hands and feet but was surprised when she looked into his eyes. A light blue, they didn't hold the hardness she'd expected. They landed on her first.

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Lindell," Serena said with a nod.

"You must be Dr. Hopkins." His low, gravelly voice vibrated through the room.

"I am."

Dominic said, "And I'm Special Agent Dominic Allen with the FBI. Thanks for agreeing to meet us."

Drake settled into the chair opposite her and Dominic and rested his hands on the table. The chains gave a loud clank, but the man didn't seem to notice. His once blond hair was now gray. He shrugged and offered a wry smile that reached into eyes. "My schedule was pretty open today."

Dominic gave a low chuckle and Serena leaned back in her chair, allowing her shoulder muscles to relax a fraction.

This man was a cold-blooded killer?

She continued to study him while Dominic took the lead. "We have a few questions for you concerning the women you killed back in the nineties."

Drake's eyes didn't change, but a subtle thread of tension ran through him. Serena saw it and felt her own muscles respond in kind. Then Drake let out a low sigh as he lifted both hands to scrub his face.

Then he looked at them. "So you still think I'm the one."

"And you're still protesting your innocence."

Drake nodded. "I am. My attorney is in the process of filing another appeal."

"I know." Dominic shifted. "I hear you've changed, found the Lord."

A soft smile crossed Drake's lips. "Indeed. The church service here is one of the highlights of my week."

Serena wasn't so sure about his claim of being saved. While that was between him and G.o.d, something just didn't ring true. Something in his eyes . . .

She leaned forward. "Mr. Lindell, I'm the medical examiner working with the FBI and we've had three murders that mimic your . . . ," she paused, then reworded, "that mimic the Doll Maker Killer's MO."

He stilled. For a moment he didn't even blink. "Oh?"

Dominic took over. "You keep saying you're innocent. Okay, let's say that I believe you for a moment. Do you have any idea who would want to frame you for the murders? Any idea who the real killer is?"

Lindell let out a slow breath and shifted in his seat. His eyes lifted toward the lone barred window in the room. "No. I just know I didn't kill them."

Serena watched his body language. His fingers remained clasped together, but she didn't see them flex. His gaze remained calm even though his nostrils flared. She found herself wanting to believe the man.

"Have you ever heard of the drug scopolamine?" Serena asked.

"Of course. It was the drug used by the killer to incapacitate those women before he killed them." Drake shifted, his eyes bouncing between her and Dominic. "It was mentioned at the trial, but I hadn't heard of it before then."

"And do you have any connections from Ecuador?"

"Ecua-" He broke off and shook his head. "That's a new one. No."

"Bogota, Colombia, or Ecuador is where the drug originates. Most people who use it for nefarious purposes generally get it from there. I looked up your trial transcript. I'm amazed no one questioned you about that. Apparently, they just a.s.sumed that you got the drug from somewhere here in the States."

Serena glanced at Dominic, wondering what he was thinking. His furrowed brow told her his mind was working, mulling over each and every nuance the man gave off.

"The evidence was found on your property," Dominic said, changing the topic.

"In a secret room under the shed in my backyard. Yes, I'm aware of all of that."

Dominic spread his hands, palms lifted. "Well, if you didn't put the evidence there, who did?"

Lindell's lips tightened and he shook his head. "I don't know. I never went out there. It was an abandoned shed that I dragged home one afternoon. I was working all hours because the cleaning business had taken off. That shed sat there for two years without me ever paying it the slightest attention. I haven't a clue how that stuff got there." His eyes lifted to meet hers.

Serena c.o.c.ked her head. Nothing about him said he was lying. No nervous twitch, shifting eyes, or defensive body language.

"You're protecting someone," Serena said softly.

The man jerked and narrowed his eyes at her soft statement. For the first time since they'd entered the room, he showed emotion other than calm, cool, and collected.

She'd nailed it, she knew she had. "Who are you protecting? One of your children?"

He stood abruptly and she froze. The guard stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Drake waved him off. "I'm not going to do anything." To Serena and Dominic, he said, "We're done here."

Serena didn't say anything more or try to stop him from leaving. Neither did Dominic. One thing she noticed before the guard led him away.

Drake's eyes.

They resembled hard chips of ice.

20.

THURSDAY, 5:25 P.M.

"What do you think?" Dominic asked Serena as they left the prison.

"I don't know if he killed those women or not, but I think he knows who did."

Dominic nodded. "And I think you were right when you said he was protecting someone. Possibly one of his kids?"

"Yeah."

"The question is, which one?" Dominic pulled his car keys from the front pocket of his khakis.

"Well, it's not the one in prison. He's been there almost as long as his father, right?"

"Right. That gives us three others to choose from."