“Some rag even managed to get a picture of Briar’s mutilated body. A shot that looked like one of our crime scene photos.” Monica’s lips tightened, the only change in her expression, but that small flicker was enough to tell Sam that the woman was pissed. Monica, or Ice as she’d been nicknamed back in her Academy days, wasn’t one for much emotion.
The team Luke had assembled for the serial kidnappings case had gathered in the conference room to hear Monica’s update and to find out just what they could expect in the coming days.
“The kidnappings are out in the open now. The families know exactly what will happen if they don’t pay for their sons’ release.”
Sons. So far, only men had been taken. Strong, fit men in their twenties. All had been abducted within a two-hundred-mile radius of D.C.
“Can we expect copycat crimes?” This came from Agent Jon Ramirez. Since he’d recently finished up a serial ra**st case in Denver, Dante had pulled Jon onto the team. Jon lounged back in his seat, black eyes watchful, as he tapped a pen against the edge of the long conference table. “Rich boys vanishing… maybe it will tempt others.”
“It might.” Monica crossed her hands over her chest and gave a slow nod. “Expect them.”
Great. More drama to cloud the case.
“And expect the real kidnappers to strike soon. Very soon.”
Sam shook her head. “But there’s usually at least two weeks between—”
“The kidnappers didn’t get their paycheck for the last victim. They’ll make another snatch.”
Snatch. Such a cold way to talk about a person’s life.
“The last four victims all disappeared from bars near college campuses… those are the hunting grounds,” Monica said. “So far, the kidnappers haven’t visited the same place twice.”
That they knew of.
“We’ve canvassed the bars where our vics were,” Luke’s much warmer voice cut through. “We couldn’t find anyone who remembered seeing the men leave.”
Sam cleared her throat. “I tapped into the traffic camera that’s located right down the street from The Core. I was able to retrieve license plate numbers for over a hundred vehicles.”
Luke raised a brow.
“I cross-referenced those tags with the vehicles that we saw from the traffic cameras at the other scenes. There were no matches.” But she wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I’ve got the names and addresses of the people who owned the cars. We can interview those folks; maybe someone remembers seeing Jeremy.”
Now Luke nodded. “Good work, Sam.” He pointed at Ramirez. “Why don’t you and Kim take the witness list? See if anyone was sober enough to remember our vic and the person who took him out of the bar.”
“The perps are smart,” Monica murmured. “I counted at least three exits at The Core. A bouncer is usually stationed at the front, but the other doors would have been clear. If they went out the back way—”
“Then they could have taken the East Benedict Road and not gotten caught on the traffic camera,” Sam finished quietly. Yeah, she knew about the alternate route, and if the killers were as organized as they thought they were, they knew, too.
But everyone made mistakes, and just maybe their killers had screwed up.
“We grill every potential witness.” Luke’s gaze swept the room. “And we focus on finding the perps’ next hunting ground.” His stare rested on Sam.
And she knew what he wanted. Sam licked dry lips and said, “I’ve been working on generating a statistical pattern trajectory for possible bars that the perpetrators might hit.” Patterns. She knew them and had always been able to see them where others couldn’t. “Our kidnappers like to hit the most crowded bars, those within a ten-mile radius of college campuses, and they like the bars that stay open until at least 4 a.m.”
“How many bars have you found?”
“Within the kill zone?” Sam asked. The kill zone—that two-hundred-mile stretch that the perpetrators used for hunting. “Twenty-three.” College kids liked their bars.
Ramirez swore. “We can’t cover that much territory.”
“We can,” Luke said. “We just have to get our asses moving. We’ll call in the local police for backup, and we’ll make sure the staff at these clubs are alerted.”
Sam’s shoulders hunched. Field work. Okay, she could do this.
Luke’s attention was still zeroed in on her. “Sam, I want you to keep searching the family’s financials. Dig deeper into their computer systems and see what you can discover.”
Sam forced a curt nod. “Consider it done.” They hadn’t been given access to the other victims’ computers. The families had closed ranks with their lawyers as fast as possible. This time, things were different.
That morning, Sam had already started a scan on the laptop—too easy. The password had taken five seconds to bypass. She had a download program retrieving all of Jeremy’s deleted e-mails and encrypted files now.
The family’s financial records were coming up clean. No major debts. No missing money that couldn’t be accounted for.
Luke rattled off several target areas, bars situated around college campuses. They were focusing on the bigger schools, those with students connected to powerful, wealthy families.
Luke assigned search areas to the other agents, leaving Sam grounded.
“Let’s move, people,” Luke said. “Talk to the bartenders and waitresses, tell them to keep their eyes open—and let’s find these bastards before anyone else gets taken.”
Or killed.
The music was loud. No, ear-splitting. But this dive on the edge of the Georgetown campus was where Sam needed to be.
She stood just inside the doorway of The Core, letting her gaze sweep across the packed bar. The bouncer at the door, a tall, muscled guy with an ear full of piercings, had waved her inside when she’d flashed her badge. She knew other agents had already talked to the guy. Kevin Milano had been working the door the night Jeremy vanished, but he hadn’t remembered seeing the vic leave.
According to the e-mails that she’d read, Jeremy Briar had met his friends here every other Friday night.
And the third victim, Curtis Weatherly, the guy who’d managed to come back home and then get shipped right out to Mexico, had also visited this bar. Sure, a visit to The Core had meant a long drive from his home in Virginia, but he’d come… a week before he’d vanished. Curtis hadn’t answered the agents’ questions, so she hadn’t gotten that detail directly from him.