The Last Move (Criminal Profiler 1)

Today, she didn’t have all the answers. But she had Drexler’s name and a picture that she hoped Sara would identify as her abductor.

She moved to the side of the bed but didn’t pull up a chair. She respected Sara’s personal space. “We haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Sara tightened her hold on the remote and turned up the volume of the television. She surfed faster, turning the channels into an unrecognizable blur.

This kind of avoidance was expected, and Kate didn’t fault the girl, but she needed a suspect identification. If they couldn’t communicate with words, then actions would have to do. She slowly crossed to the television and unplugged it.

Silence crackled in the room. Sara’s brow knotted, a hoarse moan escaped her lips, and she tossed the remote at Kate. When it hit the floor, the back panel opened and batteries tumbled free.

Kate picked up the pieces and carefully reassembled them. “I need your full attention now, Sara.”

Sara frowned, dropping her gaze to the blanket. Pale, thin fingers, with nails still brutally short and jagged from scratching at wood, rubbed a dirty, inexpensive Wonder Woman bracelet she’d been wearing since the day she’d been taken.

The bracelet’s red, yellow, and blue paint and the W were worn down. When rescue crews had tried to remove the bracelet, the girl had howled and fought. The trinket wasn’t expensive and had been a gag gift at a girlfriend’s eighteenth come-as-a-sexy-superhero birthday party. But this insignificant bauble had been with the girl through the entire ordeal, and rubbing it had become a self-soothing technique that allowed Sara to cling to sanity. Kate had been the one who intervened with the rescue crew and told them to leave the bracelet alone.

“I’ve four pictures I’d like you to look at,” Kate said.

She removed the pictures from her coat pocket, but kept them pressed to her chest. “All I want for you to do is look at the pictures. If you recognize one of the individuals just point, nod, blink, or grunt.”

The girl’s gaze remained downcast. Her hand trembled as she picked at an already threadbare spot on the blanket.

“He cannot hurt you anymore,” Kate said. “Now it’s my turn to go after him and make him pay. He needs to be locked in a small prison cell for the rest of his life. Will you help me?”

Sara stared into Kate’s eyes as if searching for a lifeline. Her bloodshot eyes were dry, no hint of tears.

One by one, Kate laid the mug shots beside the girl on the bed as if dealing cards. She was also careful not to look at the pictures, fearing a glimmer or linger would prejudice identification. She didn’t want the girl to parrot her thoughts. She wanted a legitimate ID.

“You need to look at the pictures.” Kate checked her watch. “I shamed a nurse into letting me into this room, but she’s going to shake it off soon, decide I’m trouble, and insist I leave. I’m breaking a few dozen rules just by being here.”

Sara studied Kate.

“I know it won’t be easy,” Kate coaxed. “But you have to look. Point to any picture you recognize, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

The girl’s blue eyes were wild with fear, but also rage. She was in there somewhere.

“I’ll make him pay,” Kate whispered.

Sara’s brow furrowed before she scanned the pictures.

Immediately she locked onto the third image on the left. A sob caught in her throat as she reached for the picture. Slowly she brought the image closer, staring at the face of the man with the black beard and shoulder-length hair.

Sara swallowed, then crushed the image in her hand, squeezing until her knuckles whitened.

Kate gently laid her hand over Sara’s fist and slowly unfurled her fingers. She took the crumbled image and smoothed it out. “I need you to tell me he’s the guy who took you.”

Sara closed her eyes. She nodded.

Kate studied the crinkled image. “You’re sure?”

Another nod.

She’d identified Raymond Drexler Jr.

“You’re sure?”

She opened her eyes and mouthed, “Yes.”

Kate collected all the pictures and tucked them in her pocket. “Good work, Sara. I’ll nail him.”

A quiet desperation deepened the lines in Sara’s forehead and around her mouth. She was eighteen but looked decades older.

“I’ll catch him. I promise you.” Promises were tricky, and Kate didn’t make them often. But she would hunt this piece of garbage to the ends of the earth.

Kate wished she could tell Sara her demons would vanish when Drexler was caught and convicted. “I’m not going to kid you. Catching him will help, and it’ll save other girls. But it won’t make your nightmares disappear completely. Time will fade some of the memories, but nothing in this lifetime will ever purge those thirty-four days.”

Sara’s frown softened.

Kate knew the nurses, doctors, and cops were telling the girl she was safe now. They were doing everything they could to reassure her. Of course, physically she was safe. Her body would eventually heal. However, the psychological part of the equation was a different matter. Her life would never be what it had been. The old Sara was dead.

“I’m very proud of you, Sara. To survive what you did . . . well, you’re amazing. You’re Wonder Woman.”

The first, very faint flickers of hope crossed the girl’s gaze before a fresh frown scattered them.

Kate mentally distanced herself from the crushing sadness that always stalked her. “I’ll be posting this man’s face in every department in the country. It won’t be long. In the meantime, you’re safe here. It’s a lockdown unit. No one gets in.”

The girl glanced toward the door.

“I got in, yes. I not only have a badge, but I’m short and also very charming when I try.”

A brow raised.

Good, she understood sarcasm. More signs of life. “Ah, you must remember how delightful I was with your rescue squad driver?” The attendant, after trying to remove the bracelet, had tried to take a picture of Sara, likely to sell to the media. Kate had snatched his phone away and ground it into the mud with her foot. “I think he called me a tiny-ass bitch.”

The girl’s lips twitched. A year ago the poor kid might have smiled or even laughed at

the self-deprecating comment.

Kate plugged the television cord back into the socket and handed the girl the television remote. “I’ll call you when we have him.”

Sara grabbed Kate’s wrist in a surprising grip. Kate stopped. Time stretched as she stared into the girl’s eyes, so full of wrenching pain. Sara pulled off the Wonder Woman bracelet, and with trembling fingers she slid it onto Kate’s wrist.

Kate reverently touched the bracelet, needing a second before she could steady her voice. “Are you sure?”

The girl nodded.

“I like it. In fact, it rather works for me.” Kate tapped her finger on the worn W. “But when I catch this guy, I’m bringing it back to you, and you can decide what happens to it next.”

The girl’s nod was almost imperceptible as she relaxed back against the pillows and turned on the television. She switched the channels again.

Kate left her room and made her way off the wing and down the elevator. Outside, she spotted her partner leaning against an unmarked blue four-door FBI vehicle. Agent Michael Nevada stood several inches over six feet. He had broad shoulders, a bare-knuckle brawler’s hands, and a perpetual scowl. He was handy to have when her five feet didn’t intimidate skeptical cops and streetwise criminals. Words had power, but sometimes it could only take you so far.

Nevada pushed away from the car. “You made it past the nurses, I see?”

“The Lollipop Kid rides again.” She shrugged off the white coat, balled it up, and shoved it in a backpack resting on the pavement beside him. “Thanks for distracting the woman at reception.”

He tossed her the FBI jacket she’d left with him. “Did Sara make an identification?”

Kate handed him the wrinkled picture. “Raymond Drexler.”

Nevada flicked the edge of the picture. “So, you were right?”

“Yes.”

Nevada grunted when emotions got the better of him. “I’m looking forward to finding this guy.”

“Damn right.”

He grinned. “I’d do this part of the job for free.”

As she glanced at her phone to check email, the display flashed an unknown name. Area code was San Antonio, Texas. Her mother lived there, which was reason enough to answer instead of letting it go to voicemail. She also realized she’d missed three calls while the phone was muted. “Dr. Kate Hayden.”