“The reward. That was her doing. When Suzanne disappeared, Calista was distraught. She put up the ten million. She hoped it would make a big enough public splash to tempt someone to come forward.”

“But no one ever did.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Half the free world came forward. The hotline got tips, theories, and sightings that took years to sift through. It’s been an incredible sinkhole of man-hours over the years.”

“Obviously it’s a long shot at this point,” Jenn said. “The website stopped getting heavy traffic after year four, but you never know in cases like this. The perp might develop a conscience, can’t deal with the guilt anymore. Or wind up in jail for something unrelated and brag about it to a cellmate. The chances are remote, but it happens.”

“So how much traffic are we talking about?” Gibson asked.

Mike Rilling sat forward, anxious to contribute something. “Over the previous five years, the eight hundred number averaged one point eight calls per month. Discounting spam, we were seeing four point six e-mails per month. And the website was getting four hundred sixty-seven hits per month. We monitor traffic to the website and back check IP addresses on the off chance the perp gets curious and/or stupid.”

“Smart. And recently?”

“Thirty-eight calls per month. Two hundred forty-eight e-mails. Thirty-thousand-plus hits to the website.”

“All crap, of course,” Hendricks said.

“It only takes one,” Abe reminded him.

“Have you thought about doing a website redesign?” Gibson asked.

Mike shook his head.

“Well, if it was me, I’d give some thought to updating it. Old websites look . . . well, they look old. They look forgotten. If you’re hoping to lure him in, then you need it to look like an ongoing investigation.”

“That’s a good thought,” Abe said. “Michael, get that ball rolling on Monday.”

“And while you’re at it, the FBI documents in this folder? Put some of those up too.”

“Wait. Why tip our hand?” Jenn asked.

“To bait the hook. Give your guy a reason to visit the site. Don’t these serial-killer types have a thing for reading about themselves? Don’t they get off on that shit? Or is that just in the movies?”

Jenn nodded thoughtfully. “No, that’s not just the movies.” She turned to Abe. “We’d have to clear it with the Bureau. But it’s a possibility.”

“Agreed.” Abe made a note on a legal pad with his fountain pen. “I’ll call Phillip in the morning.”

“I’m happy to talk website design all day, but are we getting to the part where WR8TH contacted you?”