He sighed. “I’d kind of hoped to pass this on privately, but that’s not really possible with your group, is it?”

“Not really,” Dani said sympathetically. “What’s wrong, Agent Taylor?”

“Quincy,” he corrected. “Look, I’m not here. Got it?”

Troy rolled his eyes. “Just get on with it, Quince,” he snapped, drawing curious stares from all over the room. Troy flicked his hand at them all. “I’m tired and it’s late. What is so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

Something briefly flickered in Quincy Taylor’s eyes and then it was gone. Amusement? Dani wondered. But Quincy was regarding her seriously again. “You read about George Garrett, the fisherman that was murdered, I assume.”

“No,” Dani said, “but Adam told us about it.”

“Well, we wondered how the killer had gotten Garrett’s name,” Quincy said. “We kept his name out of the press. But when I saw the sketch CPD made based on Michael Rowland’s description, I realized that I’d seen him.” He glanced over at Troy. “He came to the crime scene yesterday. Was talking to one of my techs.”

Troy stiffened. “Shit.”

Dani sucked in a breath at the same time. “What? One of your techs told a stranger this man’s name?”

“Probably not at the crime scene,” Quincy said. “We’re thinking that Scott King went to my tech’s house last night. Akers was found at the bottom of his basement stairs with a broken neck.”

Dani sank into a chair. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

Quincy shook his head. “No. We were supposed to think it was. I’ve just come from Akers’s house. Dani, this killer went to considerable trouble to get George Garrett’s name.”

Dani made herself breathe. “Then he killed Akers and Garrett.”

“Yes. We believe that Garrett was killed because Scott King believed he’d seen him. King risked coming to the crime scene. He risked being seen by cops. By Feds. By me. I saw him there. I walked up to him and he didn’t run. My coveralls have ‘FBI’ in giant letters across the back. King was that desperate to eliminate anyone who’d seen him.”

Dani’s blood ran cold. “Michael saw him.”

Quincy’s nod was grim. “I know. I also know that no fewer than three reporters had received calls by the time I left the Garrett crime scene this afternoon. All said that a man claiming to be one of Michael’s teachers had called asking if they knew where his foster home was located. All of them told him that they’d heard he was in a safe house and the location was restricted information.”

“Because Deacon and Adam spread that rumor after Garrett was murdered,” Dani murmured. She swallowed back the fear that was clawing up her throat. “He’s looking for Michael. He knows that Michael saw him. How?”