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

“What?” asked Skogen.

“‘We do not submit…’ Odd, don’t you think? And if he was defending territory, why kill women, who weren’t a threat to his territory in the first place?”

Vea cast her a blank look and Skogen shook his head.

“How do we know he wrote this?” asked Nadine.

“This came along, too. Final page.” Coleman laid down the sheet. “It’s a copy and I’m no expert, but I’d say the writing is a match.”

She recognized the handwriting instantly. The prickling awareness grew to an ear-buzzing rush of blood as she read his demands.

Dear Dr. Finch,

Another bird removed from your territory. If you want a catch and release, read the enclosed pages aloud for me on the local network. I want to see your face… again. You have three days.

I’ll be watching.

The Huntsman

Nadine’s attempts to swallow failed. Her throat felt lined with chalk.

“You still think Simon Kilpatrick is our man?” she asked.

“We’re holding him on the possibility he’s working with someone,” said Skogen.

She shook her head. “He’s not.”

“You’re probably right.” He turned to Special Agent Coleman. “Arrange an additional security detail for Dr. Finch.” He turned back to her. “Seems this is a battle of wits between you two.”

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

“I’d like to hear your suggestions,” said Skogen.

“Well, I think our best chance at recovering Jo Summerville alive is to do as he asks. I need to go on TV and read all this out.” She lifted the pages. The convoluted message made little sense. She’d be spending some quality time with it, that much was certain.

“He might kill her anyway,” said Coleman, looking grim.

“What is the downside of doing what he asks?” asked Vea.

They all looked to Skogen, a scowl etched his brow. “Makes us look weak. Makes him more important, gives him a platform and notoriety. Scares the public.”

“Dr. Finch could go on air and call him a lunatic. Say we don’t negotiate with killers. Call him a monster and hint that we already know who he is and are close to an arrest,” said Coleman. “Flush him out.”

“I think that’s a mistake,” said Nadine.

“Why? He’s challenging you. Questioning your abilities.”

“I’m not sure it’s a challenge, exactly,” she said. “But I believe the threat to Jo Summerville is real.”

“Then what? Cave to his demands?” asked Vea.

She blew away a long breath. “I’m not sure. I need to think.”

Skogen pointed at an imaginary wristwatch, tapping his wrist. “Tick-tock.”

FRIDAY

Nadine had spent much of her adult life dodging cameras and avoiding interviews. Now it seemed she would appear live on television to read the ravings of a psychopath. Check that. Possible psychopath.

Much of the diatribe involved natural selection as seen through humanity’s bloody history. Survival of the fittest. The struggle to persist. Rival males battling for territory and females. The importance of hunting in modern-day life as applied to civilization. The need to rid “our race” of the weak in order to create a stronger gene pool. With only a very few tweaks this would be an excellent justification for ethnic cleansing. It turned her stomach to even read the words silently. She could not imagine reading them aloud. But she would. In a few hours, to be exact, because after much discussion, debate and argument, Nadine convinced the team that Jo Summerville’s best chance for survival would be for her to go live with this damn thing.

The hunt for her had yielded nothing. The community organized search parties as the authorities continued their quest for the missing woman.

This was the first time their killer had given them the opportunity to recover one of his victims. She didn’t mean to squander it.

The worry that he was lying undercut her confidence.

Demko reminded her that the Huntsman was not infallible. He had, in fact, lost Linda, because of Nadine’s correct targeting of his territory. Unfortunately, they had not protected her from the second attack.

It was two in the morning and Nadine had given up hopes of sleep. She heard the agents assigned to their protection having a conversation in the living room beyond the master suite. Their laughter drifted through the closed door. Demko had moved a day bed into the seating area. But he slept in her bed. He’d gotten used to her nightly prowling and no longer woke when she sat at her desk with her laptop.

Since the latest letter, she’d been under house arrest, which was fine because she could barely think at the office. Too many interruptions. But now, in the dead of night, she had think time.

Nadine slipped on her noise-canceling headphones and opened her laptop. For the next two hours she re-read every scrap of evidence, every report and her profiles.

When she finished, she had more questions than answers. Gazing at the photo of Jo Summerville, she wondered, did she know this woman? She looked vaguely familiar. Pulling up everything about her on the file-share platform, she made a chilling discovery.

Although Jo worked full-time as a receptionist in an urgent care place, her taxes showed other sources of income. Summerville had a vendor’s license for selling antiques with a listed income of $1,200 for the previous year. And she had earned $6,000 working part-time at their favorite gastropub.

“He’s been following me,” she whispered to the glowing blue screen. “Attacking women on the periphery of my inner circle.”

How long until he worked up to Tina, Juliette or Agent Coleman?

He’s showing me how close he can get without my knowing.

She snatched up his manifesto and re-read the section on camouflage and stealth. Now she wondered if this was less a declaration of his beliefs than an attempt to connect with her and explain or justify his attacks. Did he think that she would understand him because of her connection to an infamous serial killer?

And then another thought struck. Was this his home territory or had he chosen this location because it had been her mother’s home territory? The chill lifted every hair on the back of her neck and she felt certain she was right.

She stared