“Yes. Somewhere secure, maybe. Somewhere private. A property, or a place he can go to do all the things he wants to do without fear of discovery.” Emma stands and leans on the desk. Her face is a dark reflection in the glossy photos. “That’s the change. He’s had enough of temporary places. He’s got a hideout, a permanent site, and now he can abandon this old site to the police.…”

“If he sets himself up somewhere comfortable, and he’s real careful, he could keep going for a long time. For years. We might never find him. Jesus.”

Emma meets his eyes. “We have to tell Cooper.”

They both startle when someone knocks on the door.

It’s Betty, in a blue peplum skirt suit. Her professional elegance is a jarring clash with what they’ve just been focused on. “Excuse me. You have a visitor.”

Emma looks blank. “Sorry?”

“Upstairs in the atrium foyer. You’ll need to go and sign them in and escort them.”

“Wait.” Bell’s still confused. “We’re not expecting any—”

He’s too late. Betty has left.

“She doesn’t hang around, does she?” Emma says. “And since when do we get visitors?”

“Since now, I guess.” Bell’s first thought runs to his sisters. He pushes out of his chair—the last thing he needs is to have Lena or Connie anywhere in Virginia right now. “Let me go see what’s going on.”

He takes the elevator, anxious. In the atrium, he scans the usual clusters of trainees in chinos and federal-issue blue or red polos and regulation windbreakers. As he moves toward the sign-in desk, a flock of Academy students walks by in front of him, then they’re gone.

And like a full moon exposed by moving clouds, there is Kristin Gutmunsson.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It’s a shock to see her. Kristin’s milky skin and long white hair seem to cast their own light. Bell’s struck again by her looks, and he’s not the only one: He sees a few bureau guys glance twice. She stands there, oblivious, mouth open and hands clasped, staring around the place like a tourist appreciating the architecture in a cathedral.

He walks closer. “Miss Gutmunsson?”

She spins and smiles in such an artlessly genuine way, it makes his heart hurt. “Mr. Bell!”

“Miss Gutmunsson, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to visit you and Emma!” She appears to be incapable of concealing her emotions at all. “Because I have some more information about my brother. And I didn’t know if you would be able to visit me again, because you’ve been so busy with the Berryville Butcher case—I saw it on the television!”

For a moment he’s made stupid by the sheer innocence in her face. “Uh, that’s, uh—”

“I mean, excuse me, I know you’re not really working that case, because you’re only trainees. But I remembered what Emma said, about how Simon was sharing insights about an active case, and I thought, well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? That must be it.”