Knoll introduces an equally tired Dr. Ailes, who tells us that his team made a big leap with the Faceplaced image data once they got more computational resources from the NSA. A slide of a petite brunette appears behind him. She can’t be more than sixteen. She reminds me a little of the girl who asked for my photograph last night. “We think this is our next victim,” explains Ailes. “In going through the data, this girl’s photograph has been accessed five times from IP addresses that lead to anonymous proxies, similar to the other victims. We don’t have her name yet, but our computers think the trees and landscape behind her suggest somewhere in south Texas. We’ve got agents calling high schools in the area to try to identify her. All of the previous victims were killed within twenty-four hours of their discovery. Last night’s murder is still only less than a day old. We have every reason to think she’s still alive and we can get to her before the Warlock does.”

Knoll returns to the podium. “We’re setting up a covert outpost outside of Santa Lucia and working with Texas law enforcement to create a dragnet to apprehend the Warlock. It’s a good bet that he’s already headed to or in the vicinity. Let’s catch him, folks.”

What does the Warlock have planned for her? Is this girl going to be the assumed public victim like Chloe or our angel, Claire? Or is she going to be a double for another victim, like Katya? Is she even the fourth victim?

I stop Knoll before he leaves. “What about the fifth point in Colorado?”

“We’re sending a team there. It’s in the middle of nowhere, though. I can’t see what he’d want out there.”

“A little town in south Texas isn’t exactly Metropolis either.”

Dr. Chisholm walks over to us. “Second thoughts, Blackwood?”

“I just don’t know. Everything is meant to get bigger. Are we missing something?”

“You seemed certain he wouldn’t realize how far we’ve come,” replies Chisholm.

“Yes. But I’m sure he knows we’ll pick up on the pentagram sooner or later. He has to be aware we’re going to be looking in these places. There’s something missing,” I explain.

“What about this girl?” asks Chisholm. “A wild-goose chase?”

“No. I still don’t think he realizes we know his Faceplaced gimmick yet. I’m sure she’s a real target,” I reply. He’s counting on us proceeding at our normal pace with our standard procedures.

“Then let’s focus on saving her,” says Knoll. “If it’s all we can do right now.”

I agree, but I’m still uneasy. I notice Chisholm seems a little unsure as well. We’re interrupted by a young agent handing me a slip of paper.

“This came in through the main switchboard,” he says.

I read the note:

324 Cascade Lane, Derry, MI. They haven’t paid their water bill in two months. Love, D.

I hand the note to Knoll. He reads it over and looks up at me. “What does this mean?”