"Any normal person would be shaking in his shoes if a victim got loose, would decide to lie low for a while."
"Probably."
"Yet he took Samantha immediately after the Simpson boy's escape."
"Maybe he's overconfident," Jonathan muttered.
"Or his compulsion is growing so strong the usual inhibitors are no longer effective. And there could also be other reasons. That's the problem with profiling. It's not an exact science."
A siren sounded behind him, and Jonathan inched to the side to make room for the ambulance. "The type of area he lives in leads me to believe he's not a disorganized personality," he said.
"That'd be my guess, too. And I'd say he's smart."
"Which means we have to be smarter. But we have no leads." Red and blue lights flashed up ahead. He was almost at the scene of the accident, but still couldn't tell what'd happened.
"Have you checked out the postman, the meter reader, the lawn service, the pool service--anyone who had a reason to go there on a regular basis?"
"The police and I are both working on the same list, so those people are getting checked and rechecked. I've talked to a lot of them. I just need to verify a few alibis."
"Maybe Samantha got bored and walked to the closest convenience store," Jasmine suggested. "Have you spoken to the clerks at any of the nearby stores? Examined their security tapes?"
"The police have checked the tapes, but I haven't. She had mono. I highly doubt she walked anywhere."
"Still..."
"The more I get to know her mother, the more I doubt she'd leave home without permission."
There was a brief pause. "The more you get to know her mother? How close are you?"
"Not particularly close, but I've spent a few days with her."
"Be careful."
He knew the emotional hazards of the job. Maria, the first woman he'd ever loved, was also an early client of his. He'd had other relationships, but none as intense as the one he'd experienced with her. She'd come to him for help documenting her husband's abusive behavior and many affairs so she could gain sole custody of their son. Jonathan had had no trouble gathering the evidence she needed. Dan Bartolo was a dirty son of a bitch. But love--and all that evidence--wasn't enough to save Maria. One day she suddenly went back to Dan, who shot and killed her two weeks later.
In Jonathan's line of work, it was never smart to mix business with pleasure. Maria's death had been a painful lesson. "She's not married."
"And you're not getting involved with her."
"No. Ours is a professional relationship," he said and tried to tell himself he could keep it that way.
"Good. The world can get pretty warped when you've just lost a child.
Her love life might look completely different to her in a few weeks or months. Chances are she'll go back to her fiance."
"I don't think so."
"She was with him for a reason, Jon. Once she adjusts to whatever the future holds, that reason might reassert itself."
He had a hard time believing Zoe would reconcile with Anton. But he realized it was possible. She had issues with father figures, and no doubt it was those issues that'd attracted her to Anton. It didn't take a psychologist to figure that out--or to understand that acknowledging the cause didn't eradicate the problem. "I've been around the block a few times, Jaz," he said to get her off the subject.
"I know, but you like to fix people, and she's probably pretty broken right now. Remember that abused woman you took in who ultimately went back to the man who'd been abusing her?"
He rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the reminder, but Maria thought reuniting her family was best for her son."
"I don't care why she did it. Find someone who's whole and healthy, who has something to offer you," she said.
As frustrated by the stalled traffic as he was with Jasmine telling him what he'd already learned--the hard way--he crept forward. "Enough advice."
"Fine. I've done my duty as your pseudo-big sister. So...do you want to send me an article of clothing or a cherished item that belonged to Samantha Duncan?"
This was why he'd been trying to reach her in the first place, what he'd secretly been hoping for all along. He hadn't mentioned Jasmine's special abilities to Zoe. He knew she'd think he was crazy if he admitted that he was planning to turn to a forensic profiler who was also a psychic. But he'd seen Jasmine work, witnessed how many of her predictions came to pass.
He prayed she'd be able to help Samantha. "Would you mind?"
"Not at all. But don't get your hopes too high. You know how it is.
Sometimes I get impressions, other times I get nothing at all. And half the time I don't know how to interpret what comes, or even whether to trust it.
I'm not sure I'll be much help."
"I know you don't have a crystal ball. Whatever you can give me...it's worth the chance. I'm hitting one dead end after another."
"I'll do what I can," she promised.
After ending the conversation, Jonathan rolled down his window so he could lean out. There was a cop allowing one car to go through at a time, but several lanes fed into that drip system.
Surely Zoe would be gone by now. Despite that, he called her again--to see if he could swing by her motel to pick up an article of Sam's clothing.
Hello, this is Zoe. I'm currently unavailable. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can....
With a curse, he sent her a text instead. Call me. I need to talk to you.
Sam was tired. She wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't gotten all the drug out of her system or because of the mono, which made her tired all the time, or the anxiety of the evening, but she was having difficulty fighting the drowsiness. She wanted to close her eyes and drift away, but she knew nothing would change if she did--at least nothing would change for the better. She had to remain alert so she could make out a slam, a voice, a thud.
Anything distinctive enough to tell her what was going on. But everything felt so hopeless. It'd been forever and she hadn't heard much of anything yet.
Had Tiffany's company even arrived?
She was afraid her plan wouldn't work, but desperation kept her fighting. Lying with her ear pressed tightly to the floor, she could hear a sound now and then. Or she thought she did. Maybe she was imagining it because she wanted to hear something so badly.
So when should she act? Was it only Tiffany and Colin moving around the house? Had whatever they'd planned been canceled? Or had their visitors come and gone without her knowledge? Had she missed her opportunity?