Proving they couldn’t.
Not me, Claire thought.I won’t be number four.
The private airstrip was small, the plane smaller. Claire slept maybe an hour on the flight, dreams full of Lily and bracelets and men’s silhouettes in doorways.
The flight took longer than she anticipated, as a storm over the Midwest diverted the plane south before it could resume its flight path. When she landed, dawn was breaking over mountains that seemed impossibly vast compared to the urban landscape she’d left behind. A different driver, same silent professionalism, drove her through a small town called Blackridge.
Main Street. The Last Stand bar. Local diner. Post office.
Quaint. Normal. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone.
Claire had never felt more exposed in her life.
The compound sat outside town, tucked against the mountains. From the road, it looked like nondescript buildings, a parking area, and modest, generic signage that didn’t disclose its true identity.
Up close, Claire’s trained eye caught the details. Cameras on every angle. Reinforced doors. Electronic locks. Defensive positioning.
This wasn’t just a safe house. This was a tactical installation.
A woman waited at the entrance. Mid-thirties, dark hair, intelligent eyes. “Agent Dawson. Welcome. I’m Dr. Genevieve Montgomery. Call me Vivi.” Her voice was cultured. “I’m sorry for the circumstances.”
“Yeah, me, too. When do I meet my protection detail?” Claire kept her voice professional, but she was exhausted, frustrated, and in no mood for small talk.
“This morning. First, let’s get you settled.” Dr. Montgomery led her inside, down a hallway to a room that looked more like a decent hotel than a prison cell. “You’ll have access to secure internet for your work. Our communications are encrypted.”
Claire dropped her bag on the bed, turned to face the doctor. “Who exactly are you people?”
“We’re specialists who handle threats law enforcement can’t neutralize quickly enough.” Dr. Montgomery’s smile was slight. “Your job here is to stay safe while the FBI works your case.”
“My job is to catch predators, not hide from them.”
“You don’t like being sidelined.”
“Would you?”
Dr. Montgomery studied her for a moment. “I’ve reviewed your file. Your work on the Riverside Strangler case was impressive. Your profile led to his arrest.”
Claire didn’t respond. It had been her first big case. More had followed.
“The FBI’s behavioral analysis on your stalker is...adequate,” Dr. Montgomery continued, “but I think we can do better.”
Claire’s attention sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve developed a new profiling methodology that combines traditional behavioral analysis with neuropsychological markers and predictive modeling.” She pulled out a tablet and showed Claire a complex flowchart. “It’s called Trident Therapy. Three-pronged approach—behavioral, neurological, environmental.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“The Bureau doesn’t have access to it. But I’ve used it with operatives for years. It’s designed to help them understand themselves and their enemies on a deeper level. I believe with a few modifications, it can help us understand predators and serial killers, too.”
Claire moved closer to the screen, studying it. The tool was sophisticated. More comprehensive than standard FBI profiling protocols…but was it accurate?
“Traditional profiling tells us a lot about the suspect’s personality and habits,” Montgomery went on, “helping us understand behaviors and potential patterns. My work takes that to a more analytical level. I don’t like educated guesses. I like solid facts that lead to better options.”
“You want to re-profile my stalker.”
“I wantusto re-profile him. Together.” Dr. Montgomery met her eyes. “Fresh perspective, new methodology, no preconceptions from the FBI’s work. You know this case better than anyone. I have tools you don’t. Working as a team, perhaps we can uncover this killer’s next move.”
Claire hesitated. “Butmyteam is already working the case.”
