“We’re not interfering with their agenda or procedures. You’re consulting, independently.” A pause. “Anything we discover, you can share with them. Or...if we find an imminent threat you feel is important, we can act on it first and loop them in when you’re ready.”
That was bending the rules. Claire knew it. But the alternative was sitting here on the sidelines while other agents huntedherpredator. “What makes your methodology different?”
“Your stalker chose you specifically. You’re his type. But from what I’ve learned, there’s a psychological architecture to his obsession.” Dr. Montgomery pulled up another screen. “These women,”—she gestured to the three victims—“were all survivors. But so are thousands of other women. They resemble you, but again, so do hundreds of other women. Why these three? Why you?”
“The FBI profilers already established?—”
“They established demographics, opportunity, and general behavioral patterns.” Dr. Montgomery’s voice was patient but firm. “I’m talking about the specific psychological framework that made him choose you. Not just any survivor.You,Claire.”
Claire stared at the screen. The same question had nagged at her for weeks.
“He’s been watching you for how long?” Dr. Montgomery asked. “Weeks, possibly months?”
“That we know of.”
“What if it’s been longer? What if he’s been building toward this since…Lily’s death?”
Claire’s chest refused to expand. The bracelet flashed through her mind. “You’ve done your research.”
Dr. Montgomery’s voice was gentle now. “He targets survivors—women who fought back and lived. You survived what happened to Lily. Were those other women’s deaths simply a lead-up to yours? Are you the true target? Are you unfinished business to him?”
Claire’s throat was tight. “You sound as if you’re suggesting it’s the same killer. Lily’s killer is dead.”
“And you’re still here. Still fighting his kind. I don’t think he’s the same man, but he might have a tie to him. Worship him. Want to be like him. Or it could be that he simply hates that you hunt serial killers. That’s what he wants to take from you.”
Fighting back the emotions, the memories threatening to cap her at the knees, she cleared her throat. “When do we start?” The question came out before she could second-guess it.
“This afternoon? After you get some rest.”
“I don’t need rest. I need to work.”
Dr. Montgomery smiled slightly. “I can see why your SAC respects you. All right. Let me set up the system. Two hours?”
“Yes.”
After she left, Claire unpacked methodically. Laptop on the desk. Case files organized. Weapon cleaned and loaded, set on the nightstand. Beside it, the photo of her and Lily.
She changed into jeans and a comfortable button-down shirt, keeping her FBI credentials and badge visible on her belt. A reminder that she was an agent, not a victim.
The window offered a view of the mountains, vast and beautiful, and slightly overwhelming to her urban senses. Reinforced glass, she noted. Nothing got through these windows.
Claire pulled up the case files on her laptop. Studied the messages again.
Day 3, Claire. Your friend couldn’t outrun him. Will you?
He knew about Lily. Knew what happened. Had he known Lily’s killer? Was this connected somehow?
Her phone buzzed with a text from Reeves:Team is en route to interview potential suspect. Will update.
Her pulse sped up. She almost texted back, demanding to be included in the interview, but stopped herself.
She was in Montana. Hidden. Safe.
Useless.
No. Not useless. She had Dr. Montgomery’s Trident methodology. She had five years of experience. She had every file, every message, every piece of evidence.
She’d find him from here if she had to.
