"I didn't think he was."Isla turned back to her monitor, pulling up the side-by-side comparison she'd made yesterday—Maria Carlisle and Monica Hayes."But he might have given us something anyway."
"What do you mean?"
She added a third image to the comparison: Amanda Pierce's teacher ID photo.The three women arranged in a row, faces staring out from the screen with the blank cheerfulness of official photographs.
"Look at them," Isla said."Really look."
James leaned forward, his eyes moving from face to face.Maria Carlisle—forty-one at the time of her death, blonde, delicate features.Monica Hayes—thirty-four, blonde, similar bone structure.And Amanda Pierce—thirty-six, light blonde hair that could almost be called dirty blonde, the same general build, the same soft features.
"They're similar," James said slowly.
"More than similar."Isla pulled up another window, typing quickly."Monica Hayes was blonde, five-foot-five, approximately one hundred thirty pounds.Amanda Pierce was five-foot-six, around one hundred twenty-five pounds, light blonde hair."She turned to face him.
"But?"
"But I was looking at the wrong thing.The Maria Carlisle angle—that was a coincidence.A horrible, misleading coincidence that sent us chasing a grieving widower who had nothing to do with this."Isla stood, pacing the small space between their desks."The resemblance between Monica Hayes and Maria Carlisle made us think this was about Carlisle specifically.About his restaurant, his wife, his grief.But it's not.The similarity is about the victims themselves."
James was following her now, she could see it in the way his expression shifted."A type."
"Exactly.He has a type."Isla stopped pacing and faced him."Both women are in their mid-to-late thirties.Both have light hair—blonde.Similar builds, similar heights.Neither one has any obvious connection to Vincent Carlisle or Bella Ristorante."She gestured toward the screen."Monica Hayes happened to look like Maria Carlisle because Maria Carlisle happened to fit the same profile.Light hair, mid-thirties, slender build.The resemblance was incidental, not causal."
"So, we're not looking for someone connected to Carlisle."
"We're looking for someone who targets women who look like this."Isla sat back down, her mind racing ahead."The question is why.What do these women represent to him?Why this specific type?"
James was silent for a moment, staring at the three faces on the screen."Monica Hayes was a hairdresser.Amanda Pierce was a teacher.Different careers, different social circles, different parts of town."
"But similar enough in appearance that the same person found them both attractive.Both worth hunting.Both worth—" Isla paused, searching for the right word."Both worth preserving."
The word hung between them, uncomfortable and accurate.Because that was what the killer was doing, wasn't it?Not just killing these women but preserving them.The freezers.The posing.The careful arrangement of hands and the closing of eyes.He was keeping them, in some twisted way.Making them beautiful in death.
"We need to go deeper on both victims," James said."Look for any overlap—places they both frequented, people they both knew, anything that might explain how the same person encountered them both."
"Already started."Isla pulled up another file."Monica Hayes owned a hair salon called The Looking Glass.Amanda Pierce's roommate said she usually went to a place called Shear Bliss, but that was across town from Monica's shop.No obvious connection there."
"What about the yoga studio?Did Monica Hayes take classes?"
"I'm checking.But even if she did, that's a thin thread.Half the women in Duluth probably take yoga somewhere."Isla rubbed her eyes, feeling the exhaustion that the coffee hadn't quite managed to push back."We need to think about where he's finding them.He didn't randomly encounter two women who happen to fit his preferred victim profile within a week of each other.He's selecting them somehow."
"Hunting them."
"Yes."The word felt right, even as it made her stomach turn."He's hunting them.Which means there's a hunting ground—somewhere he goes to look for women who fit his type.A place or a job or some regular access that lets him observe potential victims and choose."
James stood and walked to the window, looking out at the gray February morning."Public spaces.Grocery stores, gyms, shopping centers—anywhere women in their thirties with light hair might go."
"That's half the city."
"I know."He turned back to face her."But we can narrow it down.Cross-reference their routines.Find out where Monica Hayes and Amanda Pierce both spent time, even if they never met.If there's a common location, that might be where he spotted them."
Isla nodded, already reaching for her keyboard."I'll pull Monica's credit card records, see where she was in the weeks before her death.Fritz can do the same for Amanda.We're looking for overlap—any overlap."
"And the closed restaurants."James returned to his chair."Have we gotten that list yet?"
"Fritz is working on it.Should have something by noon."Isla paused, a new thought forming."He knows which restaurants are closed.He knows which ones have functioning freezers.That's not casual knowledge—that takes research, or insider access."
"Someone in the restaurant industry?"
"Maybe.Or someone in food service inspection.Or commercial refrigeration repair."She pulled up a new search window."Anyone whose job would give them regular access to restaurant kitchens and knowledge of which establishments are temporarily closed."
