The director nodded to Agent Briggs. Open the box.
Briggs put on a pair of gloves. He pulled on the edge of the ribbon, and the bow came undone. He set the card to the side and lifted the lid off
the box.
White tissue paper.
Carefully, he opened the tissue paper. A ringlet of hair lay in the box. It was blond.
Open the card, I said, my voice catching in my throat.
Briggs opened the envelope and pulled out a card. Like the last one, it was white, elegant, but plain. Briggs opened the card, and a photograph fell out.
I caught sight of the girl in the picture before they could obscure it from me. Her wrists were bound behind her body. Her face was swollen, and dried blood had crusted around her scalp. Her eyes were filled with tears and so much fear that I could hear her screaming behind the duct-tape gag.
She had dirty blond hair and a baby face.
Shes too young, I said, my stomach twisting. The girl in the picture was fifteen, maybe sixteenand none of the UNSUBs other victims had been minors.
This girl was younger than me.
Briggs. Locke picked up the photo and held it out to him. Look at the newspaper.
Id been so fixated on the girls face that I hadnt noticed the newspaper carefully poised against her chest.
She was alive this time yesterday, Briggs said, and that was when I knewwhy this present was different from the last one, why the hair in the box was blond.
You took her, I said softly, because they took me.
Locke caught my eye, and I knew shed heard me. She agreed with me. Guilt rose like nausea in the back of my throat. I pushed it down. I could process this later. I could hate the UNSUBand myselffor the blood and bruises on this girls face later. But right now, I had to hold it together.
I had to do something.
Who is she? I asked. If taking this girl was the killers way of lashing out because the FBI had tried to keep him from me, she wouldnt be just anyone. This girl didnt fit with the victimology of the UNSUBs other victims, but if there was one thing I knew about this killer, it was that he always chose his targets for a reason.
Ms. Hobbes, I appreciate your personal interest in this case, but that information is above your pay grade.
I gave the director a look. You dont pay me. And if the killer is watching, and you insist on keeping me locked up out of reach, its going to get worse.
Why couldnt he see that? Why couldnt Briggs? It was obvious . The FBI wanted to keep me out of this, but the killer wanted me in.
What does the card say? Locke asked. The picture is only part of the message.
Briggs looked at me, then at the director. Then he flipped the card around so that we could read it for ourselves.
CASSIEWONT IT LOOK BETTER RED?
The implication was clear. This girl was alive. But she wouldnt be for long.
Who is she? I asked again.
Briggs kept his mouth clamped shut. He had priorities, and keeping his job was number one.
Genevieve Ridgerton. Locke answered my question, her voice flat. Her father is a U.S. senator.
Genevieve . So now the girl the UNSUB had taken because of me, the girl the UNSUB had hurt because of me, had a name.
The director took a step toward Locke. That information is need-to-know, Agent Locke.
She waved off his objection. Cassies right. Genevieve was taken as a deliberate strike at us. We put protection on Cassie, we kept her from leaving the house, and this was the direct response. Were no closer to catching this monster than we were four days ago, and he will kill Genevieve unless we give him a reason not to.
He would kill Genevieve because of me.
What are you suggesting? The director said those words in a tone brimming with warning, but Locke responded as if the question had been posed in earnest.
Im suggesting that we give this killer exactly what he wants. We deal Cassie in. We take her with us and pay another visit to the crime scene.
You really think shell find something we missed?
Locke shot me an apologetic look. Nobut I think that if we take Cassie to the crime scene, the killer might follow.
Were not training these kids to play bait, Agent Briggs said sharply.
The director turned his attention from Locke to Briggs. You promised me three cold cases by the end of the year, he said. So far, your Naturals have delivered one.
I could feel the dynamics in the room shifting. Agent Briggs didnt want to risk something happening to one of his precious Naturals. The director was skeptical that our abilities were worth the cost of this program, and whatever objections he had to bringing a seventeen-year-old to a crime scene must have been outweighed by the fact that this situation could have major political
ramifications.
This UNSUB hadnt chosen a senators daughter by chance.
Take her with you to the club, Briggs, the director grunted. If anyone asks, shes a witness. He turned to me. You dont have to do this if you dont want to, Cassandra.
I knew that. I also knew that I did want toand not just because Locke might be right about my presence being enough to lure the killer out. I couldnt just sit back and watch this happen.