Chapter 1

1

Kerry Satterfield stared at the jumble of notes, printouts, pages copied out of her old textbooks and grainy telephoto shots that littered her desk. Out of this hodge-podge, a clear portrait of the suspect in her latest top priority case was supposed to emerge. Building it was part of her job as a profiler for the FBI. Right now she was frustrated as hell because nothing was coming to her, nothing at all. The data was like a jigsaw puzzle with a dozen key pieces missing.

We’ve got to stop this creep. So far it doesn’t look like he’s killed any victims, but it’s just a matter of time. Bad enough he’s terrorizing young kids, worrying parents half to death, and apparently sexually abusing at least some of the boys he kidnaps.

For a kid who’d grown up on the wrong side of town, she’d done pretty well. Third in her class at the academy, six years in the field, and now putting her degree in psychology to work, trying to read criminal minds. Too bad her mother wasn’t around to see the success her daughter has achieved—in spite of her influence.

True, after she fell ill with cancer, Kerry’s mother had done a one-eighty, got religion and quit the drugs and the johns. Still, in Kerry’s mind, the change came far too late. To atone for her mother’s misbehavior, Kerry had had to work twice as hard and become twice as good as everyone else. Even now, she wasn’t sure she’d ever pay the debt in full. She might have to die trying.

She rubbed her throbbing left temple, trying to tame the incipient migraine before it erupted into a debilitating attack. This was not a time she could afford to be down for twenty-four hours. Rummaging in her desk, she found her prescription. Dumping two pills into her hand, she gulped them with a swallow of cold coffee.

Yuck, that was nasty.She grimaced at the bitter taste and the lingering grit of grounds on her tongue. One more time she arranged the bits and pieces of information. It still wasn’t enough. She needed to get out and look at the ground, see where the kidnappings had occurred, and maybe talk to a few more people who might have seen something that would break the case.

Not tonight, though. If she didn’t get home and into bed soon, she was going to crash and burn. She shoved the papers into the least jammed drawer of her desk before she stood, stretched and left the building, one of the last to leave for the day.

Her battered Toyota sat in the parking garage across the street from the FBI’s southwestern sector headquarters. As she approached, she could see there was a piece of paper on the windshield, jammed under the wiper blade on the driver’s side.

I thought this place was supposed to be halfway secure. How did anyone get in here to leave junk on my car?

Kerry clicked the unlock button with one hand and grabbed the folded paper with the other, losing no time in getting into the car. She locked the doors again at once. Her years on the street had taught her caution was the better part of valor. If someone could leave this non-cyber spam, someone else could be lingering in the shadows, waiting to grab her or carjack the Toyota. They’d be crazy to take this car, though, and lucky to get out of town before it self-destructed. Her lips twisted in a wry smile at the thought of some thug chugging along in her old car. Yeah, a wild TV-type car chase—at thirty-five MPH. Ha-ha.

Shaking her head, she jiggled the key in the ignition and kicked the accelerator twice, then repeated the process. Finally, the motor coughed to life. She didn’t think any more about the paper until she cleaned the day’s junk out her purse at home a half-hour later. Although she started to toss the rumpled sheet, something made her unfold it. She needed to see what it said.

The block letters rambled across the page in uneven lines. It looked like a young child’s scribble, but intuition insisted no child had scrawled the words. The Shadow Son Snatcher is going to strike again soon. Come to 3265 Bellflower, and buzz apartment number two-fourteen on Friday evening to learn more. Come alone and unarmed if you want to break this case. Disobey and you will learn nothing.

A chill of premonition waltzed down her spine. Is this bullshit or the break I’ve been looking for? There was no way to know. Right then, she made up her mind to go. She wouldn’t carry openly, but she wouldn’t be unarmed. That would be totally stupid, and stupid she wasn’t. She wouldn’t tell anyone until just before she left, though. Even then she’d merely leave a message on one key voicemail so if things went bad, someone would know where to start looking. Sure, I’ll be taking a risk, but what the hell. It won’t be the first time, and if it happens to be the last, who will really care?

The last several years she’d been too career focused to spend much time on relationships. Given that her mother had been her primary role model on how one dealt with men, she had scant reason to want to anyway. Kate Hogan had gotten little from the men in her life besides a fuck, a fix and sometimes a few dollars. If Kate had produced any other children, they’d fallen by the wayside. As far as Kerry ever knew, it was just she and Mom all those years. Now Mom was gone, which left Kerry standing alone.