She tapped her finger against the side of her cup. “At the hospital, I had a couple of nightmares and woke up. I kept dreaming someone was watching me. But when I questioned the nurses, none of them saw anyone.”

Twenty-four-hour, around-the-clock police protection sounded good, but the reality was that the city budget did not have the funds to guard Jordan’s room. “I’ll pull the surveillance footage from the hospital and see if there’s anything that’s off base while you were there.”

She rubbed her temple. “I’ll take any lead at this point.”

“You said the roses are on the back porch?”

“We didn’t toss them. Just in case there’re prints or a card we missed.”

“I’ll have a look.” Spencer’s phone rang, and he glanced at the display. “It’s Emma Powers’s parole officer.” He accepted the call. “Burt, thanks for getting back so early. I’m here with Detective Jordan Poe. I’m putting you on speakerphone.”

“No sweat,” Burt said. “You don’t call just for the hell of it.”

“Do you have anything on Powers?”

“As of her last visit with me four weeks ago, she worked at Dell Seton.”

“Really?”

Jordan’s gaze had shifted in his direction.

“She’s a nursing assistant. She’s been on the job for six months. Did time for drugs, as you confirmed. She was released from parole a month ago, but I still have the name of her boss. It’s a place to start.”

Spencer fished a notebook and pen from his breast pocket. “Shoot.” Burt relayed Powers’s home address and the name of her boss. “Thanks, Burt.” He hung up and checked the time. “I need to confirm her work schedule and if she’s missed a shift.”

“These kinds of victims often share the same traits. Drug abuse. Same look. Young. All lived within ten miles of each other.”

Spencer picked up the cream and turned toward the refrigerator. As he opened the door, he saw a picture of a young woman with two girls in her lap. The kid on the right could not have been more than twelve, but he recognized Jordan. The toddler had to be Avery, and the woman their mother. It struck him that their mother, Jordan, and Avery looked a lot like Laura, Tammy Fox, Casey Andrews, and Emma Powers.

“Why are you quiet?” Jordan asked.

He replaced the cream and closed the refrigerator door. “This picture of you, Avery, and your mother.”

“It’s one of our favorites. It’s before she really started using so much that she couldn’t function. And in the interest of full disclosure, I have never taken a drink or used a drug in my life.”

“You said your mother died in a car crash, right?”

“I was twenty-two when her car drove off a bridge and landed in Lake Austin. She drowned.”

“I’m sorry.”