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

seating area to the bed, with Molly trotting along. Did he know he was marching from the symbolic place of her work to the symbolic place of their relationship?

“You’re upset,” she said, clarifying the obvious. She knew that much. Was it because she’d placed herself in danger by volunteering as bait or because he was angry that he was not acting the part of her love interest? She took a guess.

“If it’s because I asked Skogen to act as the decoy, it’s his investigation. You’re here to assist. And I don’t want you being a target.” There, she’d covered both possibilities. Now she just needed to get him talking to see which one had him storming from the table.

He paused and stared at her, still as carved marble. Molly sat, eyes on her master. Now Nadine was the one shifting from side to side.

“Say something.”

“Is that what you think? That I’m a jealous child, unwilling to let another man near you? That I have so little faith in you, or in us, that I’d rant and cling?”

Cross that off the list.

“My idea is unconventional. But many serials have been caught because they established a relationship with someone connected with the case.”

He lowered his chin, dangerously. If this had been her mother, she would already have been shouting, threatening and menacing. But Clint just stared at her, looking as if she had struck him.

“I’m not happy to have you act as a decoy. But I believe you might be right. This may be our best chance at catching this bastard.”

“Then I’m confused.” She was bewildered by his red face, yet calm tone. His entire approach was so different to either Arleen’s or Arlo’s. Both of them were volatile as nitroglycerin and apt to go off into a rage with the slightest nudge.

“I can see that.”

He stood before her, arms now relaxed at his side. His shoulders dropped and he took a long breath. She held hers as he released his.

“Nadine, are we a couple?”

She cocked her head, not understanding the question.

“I’m asking. Do you think of us as a couple or have I misjudged this relationship entirely?”

“Of course we’re a couple.” She was more confused than ever.

“Couples make major decisions together. They discuss things. They work things out and come to a compromise or some consensus. At the bare minimum, I would have expected you to mention this to me before throwing it out to a committee. This is a decision that affects us both. Do you not see that?”

Now that he mentioned it, it did seem obvious. She had blindsided him and embarrassed him by not giving him even the barest heads-up.

“I’m sorry. Yes. I should have done that.”

“If we are together, then this isn’t just about you. It’s about us.”

She stepped forward. He retreated. For someone who was trained to read other people’s emotions and understand relationships, she was certainly blowing hers. It was like a blindness with Clint.

“This hurt me, Nadine. You understand?”

“I should have consulted you. I’m not used to… I’ve been on my own for a while. I just… I blew it. Please forgive me.”

She wanted to make excuses. Blame the stress related to catching this killer. Blame her upbringing or anyone else that was conveniently at hand. It was exactly what her mother would have done. Take no responsibility for her actions. Blame every mistake on others. And that was why she kept silent, refusing to go there.

“It’s my fault,” she said. “How do I make this right?”

“You can’t. Done is done, as they say. But what you can do is make sure there are no repeats. I’ll do the same. From here on, we talk about things, especially decisions that involve risk.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

Then he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Don’t shut me out, Nadine.”

“I won’t.”

Forgiveness, she realized, and a second chance. He’d given her both, simply at her word that she’d do better.

She glanced at the nightstand where her ring hid. The object seemed to be drawing her like iron to a magnet. She wanted to slip it on. Tell him she would marry him, that she longed to marry him. But they needed to have another conversation first.

“Clint?”

He released her, giving her a gentle smile. “You better get back out there.”

He left her. She took a few moments to summon her courage, then returned to the meeting, slipping into her place to review the preliminary list of locations she had frequented, and begin to compile a list of women with whom she had had casual contact.

One of Skogen’s people left to organize security teams on the top ten potential targets.

Finally Wynns briefed them on cold cases. Two drew Nadine’s interest. One was a series of four missing persons dumped in a wildlife area near New Orleans. The cases were over a year old. Each woman had vanished from wetland trails in the Barataria Preserve. No bodies had ever been recovered.

“Because he didn’t want them found,” she said.

The second cold case was a single murder of a white female ornithologist whose body was discovered tied to a tree in a Delaware state forest.

“Mode of death?” asked Skogen.

“Unknown,” said Coleman. “There wasn’t much left of her. The ME was unable to determine if there were soft tissue injuries such as lacerations or punctures.”

“How long after her disappearance was she recovered?” asked Skogen.

“She disappeared in May and was not discovered until September.”

Nadine glanced at the tabletop. Four months. The elements, predation by animals and insect infestation, she assumed, removed most of the evidence leaving nothing but bone and sinew.

“Clothed?” she asked.

Special Agent Wynns met her stare. “I don’t know. Let me find out.”

“Jack,” said Nadine, “see if any of our list of male contacts lived in Delaware or Louisiana.”

Twenty-Three

SUNDAY

After Nadine had read his words, the FBI announced a press conference. He knew they’d found Summerville. The scanners told him that much. A call to the news confirmed that she had not survived.

He sat