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“You knew that we were dealing with a serial killer yesterday, didn’t you?”
“An amateur wouldn’t have been able to keep a scene so contained otherwise,” Brook murmured as she focused on Erica, who had just disconnected her call. “Like I said, watch your back up there.”
Sylvie nodded her understanding, deciding that it might be in her best interest to take her backup piece. There were several types of holsters that the team always had on hand in the tech van, and she’d make sure to grab the boot holster. She’d be able to clip it to the inside of her hiking boot without anyone the wiser.
It was more than apparent that Brook was confident there would be some type of evidence left behind by the unsub to prove that Luna Breen hadn’t been a random kill. No matter what it might look like to Dominic and Jace, Sylvie had learned one thing over the past two years—always trust Brook’s profiling abilities. If she believed that they were dealing with a serial killer, then he was somewhere nearby and waiting patiently to strike again.
Chapter Six
Brooklyn Sloane
October 2023
Friday — 10:47am
“Anyquestionsontheassignment?”
Brook set down her pen as she scanned the students gathered in the assembly hall of the college. It was important that they feel comfortable with the material that she’d given them, especially since most of it contained specific details taken from the files of a previous case. The criminal profiling class wasn’t one that the students had been prepared for when they’d asked to be considered for one of the twelve coveted spots. The course certainly wasn’t run-of-the-mill, and it hadn’t been first come, first serve. Brook had chosen each student by hand, and she hadn’t regretted her choices so far.
“I realize that I was supposed to be there in person this morning, but my firm was asked by the Bureau to consult on a case. I’m still in North Carolina.”
“Is it an active serial killer?” Bryce Thielen asked from his front row seat. He was thriving in her course, and his thirst for knowledge was more acute than the others. Well, maybe apart from Melinda Reagor, but only in a more outspoken manner. “I haven’t heard anything on the news.”
“We’re in the Smoky Mountains.” Brook didn’t feel the need to explain her situation, but it became apparent from her students’ expressions that she should supply a bit more information. “We’re in a very small town. I’m sure there will be some news coverage later today or tomorrow, but I’m doing what I can to keep a lid on the details. It would be more beneficial to the case to keep things contained for the time being.”
Brook technically hadn’t answered Bryce’s question. Before he realized what had taken place, she gave her standard speech to them about reaching out to Arden with any questions. She hadn’t thought it possible, but her students had really bonded with Arden over the past two months. Given her erratic schedule, he’d helped when he could, and the assistance so far had exceeded her expectations.
“Hey, Boss? Luna Breen’s mother and sister are downstairs.”
Bit must have been listening in on her lecture. She’d left the connecting door open just in case he’d needed her for something during the three hours that she’d just spent with her students. Technically, she could have continued for another ten minutes, but anything said after finishing her talking points would have been a waste of time.
“Thanks, Bit.” Brook closed her laptop. “Has Sylvie and Theo been checking in regularly?”
“On the hour,” Bit said as he leaned up against the doorframe. “Listen, I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others this morning, but you might want to touch base with Sarah Evanston’s mother again.”
Bit didn’t have to go into too much detail regarding the former reporter who had become infamously known as the only victim to live through one of Jacob’s vicious attacks. Sarah Evanston was currently the bane of his existence. She’d lived, and his temporary sacrifice to surrender himself into the custody of the FBI had been thwarted by Brook. For the first time in their lives, she’d thought two steps ahead and managed to figure out his grand plan to escape custody.
She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that her brother wouldn’t try to figure another way out of prison, but for the time being, they were monitoring him to the best of their ability. Jacob thought of life like a chess board, and he was able to visualize several moves ahead of his opponent.
Bit hadn’t come right out and admitted that he’d illegally been monitoring the cell phone belonging to Sarah Evanston’s mother. Brook wasn’t a saint, and she’d never claimed to be. Whatever judgement she faced after death, she would do so knowing that she’d sinned to save the lives of others.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Brook wasn’t sure what she could say to Jemma Evanston without giving away the fact that they were monitoring her cell phone and online presence. Brook also couldn’t alert the U.S. Marshal’s Service that she was aware one of their witnesses had broken protocol. It was a delicate situation, and one that needed to be handled with care. Right now, Brook needed to concentrate on another mother.
“I’ll be downstairs with Luna’s family members if you need anything.”
Brook had spent a good half an hour on the phone with Special Agent Landon Axel after the briefing this morning. He was her contact at the Charlotte office. She’d caught him up to speed, and then asked that he put a rush on the forensics. A lot of times a request from one of the field offices resulted in a faster outcome. If Sylvie and Theo struck out today, there was a chance that the unsub had used the same abandoned structure on previous occasions.
It didn’t take long for Brook to grab the porcelain mug that she’d brought upstairs with her. She’d needed a refill for a while now, and her having her attention elsewhere might make Luna Breen’s mother and sister more comfortable. Nothing was going to take away their grief, but it was Brook’s job to figure out a way to extract information from them regardless of their heartbreak.
To Brook’s surprise, Wyn was behind the bar. The rich aroma of coffee permeated the air, and it was clear that he’d already brewed another pot of coffee. He was in the process of sliding a mug her way. She set her empty one down on the bar, grateful for the exchange.
“Your guests are in one of the back booths. I offered them some lunch and refreshments, but they didn’t want anything.”
“Thanks, Wyn. For everything,” Brook said, encompassing the fact that he’d programmed the coffee machine to brew at such an early hour. She hated to nitpick, but she couldn’t risk the front door remaining open while such sensitive material was upstairs. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping the front door locked while we’re staying here. I realize that in such a small town—”
“I locked the front door myself around three o’clock this morning,” Wyn replied with a frown. He was already reaching for the phone. A lot of businesses still had landlines, and his was the old-fashioned kind that had probably been in the same place for the past twenty years. “Are you saying it wasn’t locked, Ms. Sloane?”
