“Or time could drive him in another way,” Quentin suggested.

“Yeah, it could. The valley isn’t huge, but we aren’t an army; the faster he moves, the more likely he could keep us moving constantly without giving us much time for gathering and evaluating evidence, for strategy, for time to do much more than identify the victims he leaves for us. But if we can very clearly identify his victim pool, that still gives us an edge. I hope. At least enough of an edge to alert potential victims and protect as many as we can.”

“And give potential victims an edge,” Quentin said. “Hopefully, at least. It’s a town filled with psychics. Maybe they can use those abilities to protect themselves.”

—

FINN CAME BACK around the boulders to join the others, his face set. His previous experience of torture victims had been only dump-site photos taken by Geneva back in January. That had been bad enough, and didn’t make viewing the remains of this victim any easier.

Steadily, he said, “I can’t identify him for certain other than knowing he’s male. But at a guess it’s Cole Ainsworth. I don’t believe it’s Simon Cavendish. Simon is dark; correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m—guessing—this victim was blond, and that fits Cole Ainsworth.”

Bishop nodded. “There’s enough hair left untouched by the blood to tell that much.” He frowned. “Just enough.”

“Think it was deliberate?” Quentin asked.

“Could be. He hardly left a square inch of the body untouched in some way, before and after death, yet just enough blond hair to make that visibly clear.”

“Why would it be deliberate?” Finn asked.

“Maybe taunting us. Playing games. He might have believed there’d be more time before we could be certain Cole Ainsworth is actually missing, and grabbed Simon so quickly to further muddy the water, make us uncertain who the victim is, at least for a while. Or he could be making certain we know or at least guess there is or will be a third victim, since Simon is dark.”

“To keep us looking for someone we might be able to help instead of looking for him,” Diana said. “Another thing to keep us concentrating on to slow down our gathering and analyzing of evidence.”

“If he knows how we work,” Bishop agreed. “How most law enforcement typically works. Or if he can just reason it out. The priority is always going to be on locating victims we can still help. That’s true of any law enforcement officers, including us.”

“I really hope he doesn’t know as much as you believe he might,” Finn said.

“We always hope that,” Quentin said.

Diana was glancing around them almost absently, and her voice was restless when she asked, “Finn, are you sure Simon is missing?”

“All I’m sure of is that he isn’t at work, isn’t at home—and it doesn’t look like he got home last night. He left the bank later than usual and walked; it’s only a few short blocks to his condo and he very seldom drives. His car’s parked at the condo, keys on a table by the door. He didn’t stop at any of the restaurants or cafés. He’s been taking work home these last weeks, with Nellie making some changes at the bank, but his briefcase isn’t in his condo or his office. His regular cleaning service came yesterday, and while I happen to know he’s a neat guy, no way he’s that neat: There isn’t a thing out of place at his condo, just like the service left it, including clean sheets on a bed that hasn’t been slept in.”