In the bathroom, I crank the water as hot as I can stand it and step under the spray. I soap up twice, knowing I’m trying to wash away more than just the dirt of the day. I haven’t let myself think of Sadie in emotional terms. I haven’t let myself think about how this could turn out or what she might be going through at this very moment.

Now that I’m alone with my thoughts, all of those gnarly beasts come calling. I can’t help but compare Sadie’s disappearance to the murder of Annie King. The possibility that the outcome will be the same terrifies me. Another young life snuffed out long before its time. Another family shattered. And all I can think is that I can’t let that happen.

In the bedroom, I pull on an old T-shirt from my Academy days and a pair of sweatpants. Padding barefoot to my office, I flip on my computer. While it boots, I pull out my Rand McNally road atlas and turn to a map of northern Ohio. Tearing out two pages, I take both to the bulletin board I keep on the wall adjacent to the desk and pin them up side by side. With a black marker, I circle the location of each disappearance. Monongahela Falls. Sharon, Pennsylvania. Rocky Fork. Buck Creek. Painters Mill. I draw a larger circle encompassing all the towns.

Leaning over my desk, I open the pencil drawer and pull out a red Sharpie, snap off the lid, and go over to the map. I circle Buck Creek, where Stacy Karns, Gideon Stoltzfus, and Justin Treece are located. I circle Salt Lick, where Frank Gilfillan and the Twelve Passages Church are located. I draw a larger circle to encompass each location and go back to my desk.

I stare at the map. The two large circles overlap each other and include much of the same area. All of the towns, the locations of the victims and suspects, are roughly within a one-hundred-mile radius. In rural terms, that’s less than a two-hour drive. Chances are, the killer resides somewhere within that circle.

“Why do you do it?” I whisper.

I turn to the whiteboard and write, Why? with a double underscore. Then “No ransom demand. Sexual in nature? Fetish related?” I think of Annie and Sadie and write, “Vulnerable? Runaways?” Then I add, “Blood found at scenes.”

“Where are they?” I’m thinking aloud now, letting my mind run with random thoughts and undeveloped theories. “Why did we find Annie King’s body and not the bodies of the others?”

I divide the board in half with a bold line. Below the delineation, I write, “Suspects: Stacy Karns, Frank Gilfillan, Gideon Stoltzfus, Justin Treece.” Finally, I write, “Unknown perpetrator.”

“We don’t know you yet,” I say.

I circle “Unknown perpetrator.” Next to it, I write, “Motive?” And then add, “Why?”