The Hunted Girls by Jenna Kernan (best book club books for discussion txt) 📕

physical evidence and she worked closely with both the ME, FBI lab technicians and Agent Wynns to keep track of it all.

“Hair samples are physically similar. Still awaiting DNA results. But those bleach stains. It’s likely yours.”

Nadine looked to Demko, sitting in his vehicle somewhere with a background of palmetto palms. “Anything to add?”

“No hits on Tolan’s gun.”

She turned to the communication from the killer.

“Skogen got me a photocopy of the letter sent to the papers.” Nadine looked to Tina, who pulled up the document and shared her screen. They were silent for a few moments while they read this important bit of evidence.

Nadine looked down at the words on her copy, knowing he had written this, held the original paper in his hand and pressed a pen to the sheet to write his initial contact.

“Fingerprints?” asked Demko.

“None. And before you ask, it’s a peel-off envelope. No DNA recovered.”

Juliette’s shoulders sank at this.

“Hunting ground, quarry, pack,” said Demko. “Hunting terms.”

“Pack seems more like a biologist,” said Juliette.

“And offering sounds religious,” added Tina. “And why call the two murdered women lures?”

“Lures to bring the FBI?” suggested Nadine. “We have not only his words but also his penmanship and the timing. He was bold enough to speak of a capture that he had not yet accomplished.”

“Calling his shot,” said Demko.

“What?” asked Nadine.

“Sports term,” said Juliette. “Players in baseball and basketball sometimes signal their intentions. It shows bravado and a certain arrogance.”

“Exactly,” said Nadine. “Also, his grammar and punctuation are flawless. He’s educated with a better than average mastery of the English language.”

“Lefty,” said Tina, her voice so soft, Nadine barely heard it.

“That’s true,” said Demko. “Lefties make their strokes from right to left. See here.” He pointed to the top line of a capital T and the mark did seem to flow backward.

“He’s printed this,” said Juliette. “No cursive.”

Nadine looked at the tight, neat lettering that sat in a perfectly straight line. “Thoughts and lettering are organized.”

“Looks like he used a ruler or something. Straight as an arrow,” said Tina and then sucked in a breath at the comparison.

Nadine had to get back to her profile and so she brought the meeting to a close. Tina and Juliette vanished.

Only then did she remember she hadn’t asked Juliette about the autopsy on the body recovered in the lake.

Demko remained on the screen. It was clear from the angle that the phone was in the holder and he was driving.

“Arlo get that information on the red-tagged truck?”

“Sent it to his attorney. Arlo wrote to say thank you.” Some part of her still worried she would regret helping him return to society.

He didn’t sign off.

“What’s up, Clint?”

“On my way back. I need to talk to Jack. He there?”

That would be bad. Up to now, the two alpha males had coexisted by occupying different spaces. Demko rarely came into the office, preferring to be out in the world, talking to law enforcement, helping with search and rescue and exploring the forest.

“Yes. Just a few minutes ago. About what?” she asked.

“Something I saw on the security tapes. Just a speculation that I’d like Jack to dispel.”

“What exactly?” she asked.

“Let me find out if it’s even a thing. Okay? Make sure he doesn’t leave.”

She didn’t like where this was going, but she trusted him.

“Okay.”

He disconnected and she stared at Tina.

“What’s that about?” Tina asked.

“Something bad.”

Demko appeared within the hour. Together they headed to Skogen’s corner office, finding him behind his desk speaking to Agent Wynns.

“Demko,” said Skogen by way of a greeting. Even the single word seemed a challenge.

“I’ve been over the hotel security tape of the second-floor corridor several times,” said Demko.

Skogen’s microtwitch set off alarm bells in Nadine. She’d studied body language extensively. Skogen was off balance.

“Security tape?” he asked, as if confused. Repeating the question gave him time to think and he was doing that now, judging from the upward angle of his gaze.

“Yes. The woman who came out to complain to Nadine about the noise in the hallway looks a lot like Linda Tolan.”

Fifteen

Nadine staggered back a step, but Demko caught her elbow and kept her from stumbling. She was no longer reading Jack’s expressions and body language because the implications of what Demko suggested struck her like a thrown bucket of ice water.

“What are you saying? That I met her?” she asked, facing Demko and interrupting.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” said Demko and turned to Skogen.

Both Jack’s hands were up before him, palms out, in a classic gesture of halt. Then he extended his arms, pushing the problem back at them.

“Look. We didn’t think it was wise to bring this to Dr. Finch at this time.”

“Why the hell not?” she asked, her voice sharp, accusatory. “How am I to create profiles if you withhold data?”

“We didn’t want to alarm you with it. Things like this can rattle a person and we need your head in the game.”

“So you put her in danger,” said Demko.

“No. We have undercover agents on her floor, yours as well, and embedded in the hotel.”

“How long have you known?” Demko asked.

“Digital forensics on Tolan’s phone recovered her hotel registration. We made the connection yesterday.”

Demko’s hands went to his hips, his fingers just before the service weapon clipped to his belt.

“I want the adjoining room,” said Demko.

“Occupied by our—”

“I want the adjoining room,” he repeated.

Skogen sighed. “We’ll work that out.”

The tingling shuddered over her skin as she prepared for a dash to the bathroom if her stomach continued to pitch.

“Was the woman Nadine met in the hallway Linda Tolan?”

Skogen’s voice held resignation. “Tolan stayed on her floor. She had the room next to Nadine reserved until Sunday. And, yes, Nadine and she spoke in the hallway the night before Tolan’s abduction.”

“Important detail. Don’t you think? Because it means this killer might not have been targeting Tolan but was focusing in on your profiler.”

Skogen pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Nadine’s eye began to twitch. She pressed her hand to the spasm that continued to pulse.

“But you already