The man’s breath changed. Duke heard the sharp pull of air.
“You have no idea.” The man’s words came faster.
Duke seized the opening. “That doesn’t mean everyone else who ever disappeared needs to pay for what happened to your friend.”
“Of course it does!” the man snapped. “People need to know how it feels. That’s all Crystal wants. She wants people to understand her pain.”
“So this was all Crystal’s idea?” Andi asked.
“She wanted me to grab them—she had very specific criteria. It wasn’t easy to find people at every location. But I did. I did it for her.”
“She wanted these women to know how it feels to be overlooked,” Andi said. “Is that right?”
“Yes! Then she wanted me to let them go. But . . .”
“But what?” Duke asked, not sure he wanted to hear.
“But I found myself enjoying the process more than I thought I would. It became a bit like the games I would play when I was younger. I was always good at strategy. And in the military, I learned about psychological warfare. I was fascinated on the role the mind plays for these things.”
“The problem is,” Andi started. “These women are innocent. They don’t deserve any of this.”
The man laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. “No one is innocent.”
Andi pushed again. “Why target people on our tour route?”
“Because six months ago, I emailed asking for your help!” the man said. “I asked you to investigate. Tocare. And you ignored me.”
“We get hundreds of emails,” Andi said. “It’s unfortunate, but we can’t help everyone. It’s impossible.”
“Or was it because you didn’t think we were important enough?”
“It wasn’t like that.” Andi kept her voice calm. “It really wasn’t.”
But the man didn’t seem to hear her. “Then you decided to go on a tour and be in the limelight, soak up attention from your fans like you’re some kind of celebrities. It’s disgraceful.”
Duke’s chest tightened.
“She didn’t matter then,” the man continued. “So these other people shouldn’t matter either.”
That was why he hadn’t wanted these cases to get any media coverage.
As Duke listened, a memory clicked into place.
Not an image. Not a face.
A voice.
The man sounded vaguely familiar. His tone might be slightly different now. Deeper. More energized.
Yet it was still somehow recognizable.
His breath caught.
Duke suddenly knew where he’d heard this man before. He knew how he fit. How he’d slid past their attention time and time again.
His pulse kicked hard.
He knew exactly who stood behind the light.
