Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
“Because of me?” I wanted it not to be true. I wanted it all to be a coincidence, even though I knew better. Even though I had already planned to run because I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. “What if…”
“We’re not overreacting,” he said gently. “We’re being cautious.” He paused. “I gotta tell you some other stuff, and know that if this gets out, it could be my ass.” A curse slipped from him. “A profiler did a workup. She met with Cameron Fowler on Saturday after all the murders came to light. We got her preliminary report today.”
I’d stopped washing.
“Feds know it’s bullshit what Fowler’s lawyers are saying. He is the Midwest Butcher. His DNA was found at four other murder sites. He was smart, but messy in how he killed. He made a mistake. Your witness account was the one thing the Feds needed to catch up to him. I’ve looked at all the evidence. There were other things, too much to add up for a wrong-guy-in-the-wrong-place situation like they’re saying. They also analyzed the new DNA his lawyers found, and it matches his, just not enough markers for an exact match.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means the unidentified DNA belongs to someone related to him, which the state’s attorney will annihilate by saying it was more than likely DNA he had on his person that transferred to the hatchet he used.”
I ground my teeth. I liked when they were vague about what he used to kill people.
And about the other details.
“According to the profiler, she thinks he’s a young male. White. Someone who was affected when the Midwest Butcher was captured. An event correlated in his life, bringing trauma as a result of the Midwest Butcher or because of an event that happened in his family, like a divorce around the same time. The profiler is leaning that way, thinking his mom was engaged, and there was another older child out of the house. Or that he was the older child out of the house when his parent and their significant other were murdered or died somehow, which left lasting effects on the boy.”
I was still standing there, but my hands went to the counter.
I held on.
Travis was gauging my reaction, but I wasn’t giving him anything.
“She thinks he’s alone, with few or no friends,” he continued. “Probably attractive. People say he’s a nice guy but not charming. They say he’s nice as a courtesy, but if they think about it, they’ll realize there’s something awkward about him. She thinks he has a job that requires travel, like the Midwest Butcher did. Or maybe he lost a job and that spurred the beginning of these murders. They’re looking for him to be originally from Kansas City or somewhere in Missouri. Considering the details he knows about the Midwest Butcher, what he did with the bodies, he’s been in either direct or indirect communication with Fowler. Like maybe he was Fowler’s apprentice.”
“What did she say about me?” My nails scraped against the tile on the counter. There was a reason he was sharing.
“With the rate of his acceleration, she thinks he’s working in a frenzy to an ultimate goal, one he needs to get off his chest before he can feel freedom. She thinks it’s as if he’s been tasked with a job, and he’s not enjoying himself. These murders aren’t for him, but for the Midwest Butcher, and the end goal is you.” He hesitated. “She thinks he has his own method for killing, and you’re not going to be killed the way the Midwest Butcher did his murders. She thinks he’s going to take his time with you and use his own method, like you’re a gift to Fowler, but also a fuck off too. Letting Fowler know that he’s going to start doing things his own way.”
My nails sank down, and one broke. I didn’t feel it. “I’m a breakup gift?”
“In short, yes.”
“And I am a target?”
“They asked ten profilers. Ten out of ten said you were a target.”
“Why are you really telling me all this?”
He snorted a laugh, eyeing me. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”
He had no idea.
I slid my hands into the water so he didn’t see any blood from my nail. “I’ve been under threat and a magnifying glass since I was twelve. Two men tried to kidnap me before I landed with Vicky and Howard.”
“What?”
“Being threatened is nothing new to me. Hiding and living a very solitary life is not new. It’s the other way that terrifies me.” Brett. His spotlight.
“I’m not going to ask about Broudou.” Travis’ voice went flat. “He’s protecting you?”
I thought of how he’d held me Saturday. How it was the first Saturday he got permission not to stay at the hotel with the team. How his cock sank into me that night, claiming me over and over again.