kills that match his M.O. so far…there’s more to be understood. Remember, my profile won’t tell you who he is. It is just a guide for the type of person you need to be looking for.”
Ah, that was the way to get in with Dr. Baldwin. Shoptalk. He didn’t feel comfortable with the man. Not enough to share that he’d been offered a position with the FBI. Pen was going to kill him when she found out. And Memphis got the distinct impression that news wouldn’t go over so well here, either. He stuck to the case at hand.
“Maybe he’s a bit of both,” he said.
Baldwin’s forehead creased. “A bit of both. You mean organized and disorganized?”
“No. He’s killed black women and white women. He likes them both. Perhaps he’s a bit of white and a bit of black himself.”
That captured the tall man’s attention. He glanced over in appreciation, then said, “Nicely deduced. That’s one of the adjustments I’ve included in the new profile. I’m assuming he’s biracial. It explains how he could fit in with both types of women. We have no record of their disappearances being against their will. I think he charms them.”
“Or hires them. Some of the street girls we know will take money for just about anything. They allow themselves to be hurt.”
“Yes. That, too.”
“Glad to be of assistance,” Memphis said.
“We’ll have a look at this crime scene, see if we think it’s another II Macellaio victim. I’m planning on presenting the entire profile tomorrow in Quantico. Listen, we’ve got another ten minutes before we’ll be at the lake. Why don’t you fill me in on your side of things, and I can include my impressions. We can talk this through, see if you think it could be the same man. If your schedule permits, we’ll head up to Quantico first thing tomorrow morning instead of this afternoon-I’d like to stick around for a bit and see more about Taylor’s new case. Are you okay with that?”
Hmm. More chances to tete-a-tete with the blond goddess?
“Sounds lovely.”
He launched into a breakdown of the cases he’d been working.
He forced Evan’s doppelganger from his mind. Most of the way.
Twenty
T he sun disappeared, replaced by inky gray fog. The forest muffled the sounds of the storm; the drizzle created an insulating barrier cutting them off from the rest of the world. Taylor stuffed her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and sighed. Outdoor crime scenes were a complete pain in the ass. You never knew what would be relevant, had to document and collect even the tiniest shred of disturbed grass. Tim had a massive pile of brown paper bags in the back of his van. The crime lab had a long evening ahead of them.
There was activity on the trail. Good, Baldwin was here.
He and the Brit came around the curve and hurried to her side.
She introduced Highsmythe around. She hurried; she could tell Baldwin was fidgety, anxious to get moving.
“Where’s the body?” Baldwin asked.
She pointed to the creek. “Down there. We’re about ready to get her out of here. Come on, I’ll take you.”
They scrambled down the bank, Taylor in the lead. She stopped five feet from the body.
Both men spoke at the same time. “Ophelia.”
Taylor nodded at them.
Memphis bent down, edged a bit closer. “‘There is a willow grows askant the brook, that shows the hoar leaves in the glassy stream, therewith fantastic garlands did she make, of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies and long purples that liberal shepherds give a grosser name, but our cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them.’”
He looked back over his shoulder at Taylor.
“You’re quoting Hamlet? ” she asked.
He blushed. “I wasn’t good enough to play Hamlet. I was quoting the queen, actually. It’s Gertrude’s soliloquy to Laertes upon finding Ophelia drowned.” He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“You know your Shakespeare,” she said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I played Laertes a few times, dramatic society and what not. Those were my cast-about years.”
“Still, I’m impressed that you remember. I can’t ever recall like that. You and Baldwin must be having a blast together.”
His eyes shot over to Baldwin, who stepped closer and put a hand lightly on Taylor’s back.
“Not to interrupt, but back to the victim?”
“Oh, of course. I told you this looked like the drowning of Ophelia. There must be a hundred versions of this out there.”
“It is many renaissance painter’s favorite subject, no doubt. I thought you were going to Manchester.”
“We were. We got called back around Murfreesboro.”
Baldwin was tapping his fingers against the small of her back.
“I was wrong. I didn’t think he’d strike again so soon. Damn it.”
“It happens,” Memphis said. “We’ve gone off on many a wild-goose chase with II Macellaio.”
Baldwin shot him a look. “Still, two women in two days. He’s escalating. We need to stop him now.”
They made their way back up the bank. Highsmythe excused himself to wander for a bit. When he was twenty feet away, he stopped and stared off into the lake. She and Baldwin watched him for a moment.
“I recognize that look,” Taylor said, gesturing to him. “He’s going to come up with something brilliant.”
“Recognize his looks already, do you darling?”
“Baldwin, don’t tease.”
He cupped her chin in his hand and looked deep into her eyes.
“Just remember something.”
“What’s that?”
“In the school play? I was Hamlet.”
They had the body out of the water, ready for transport to Forensic Medical and Sam when the rain started to fall in earnest. The only noise was the spatter of raindrops on the leaves, the wet slap against the water’s edge and discreet cursing as the doors to the medical examiner’s van slammed shut.
Baldwin and Highsmythe had taken photos, then scattered back to Baldwin’s office to get the profile adjusted.
Taylor and McKenzie stood with the anxious rangers, who were worried for their safety. Kilkowski was still shuddering. Harkins was trying, and failing, to comfort her.
“Should we keep the park closed?” he asked.
“I think it will be fine to reopen, but block off this part of the trail so you don’t have any lookiloos disturbing the crime scene.”
“Okay. Robin, let’s get you something warm to drink. A nice cup of tea should help,” the park manager said. He shook Taylor and McKenzie’s hands. She could tell that wasn’t enough reassuring, but it would have to do.
McKenzie watched them go. “They’ll have the security tapes ready in a minute. Hopefully we can get a timeline on the intruder. Harkins explained their security measures, but they’re more designed to discourage poaching than something like this.”
“Did they give you an idea of the currents? Where she might have gone in the water?”
“I think he put her in that exact spot. You said it’s just like a painting you’d seen, right? I bet he wouldn’t have chanced it.”
Taylor did a three-sixty. McKenzie was right. They were close enough to the west parking lot that the killer
