Matt itched to call Popovich, Kara’s boss, but he put that aside when Michael walked in, holding out his own cell phone. “Jim has something and needs to talk to you now.”

Matt took the phone from Michael. “Jim?”

“We got something. And we’re going to have more, but damn, we’re going to nail him.”

“I’m waiting.” He shouldn’t snap, but he was still fuming over Thornton’s call.

Jim didn’t seem to notice. “You get me a suspect, I’ll match him to DNA.”

Matt nearly did a dance. “You have his fucking DNA? How?”

“Remember what I said about bathrooms? The guy was good. He cleaned up well, and he poured bleach down the drain. Smart, because we shed a lot of hair when we shower. But he cut himself. He cut himself when he killed Ogdenburg. Might not have even noticed it. I believe he took one of his towels off the rack—and took it with him, because no used towels were found in the house. There was a small drop of blood behind the metal rack. We swabbed it—it doesn’t belong to Ogdenburg.”

“This is great. Prints?”

“It dripped. He didn’t touch the bar. Probably grabbed the towel only. The blood dripped from his finger is my best guess.”

“Have you run it?”

“What do you think this is, Hollywood? It’s going to take me a couple of days, minimum. But I already sent it to our lab in California. Spokane has a good setup, but they’re not equipped to handle DNA, and you said if they can’t do it here, send to our lab.” The main FBI laboratory was at Quantico, but they had a smaller forensics lab in California. “Called, talked to the director, explained that this was the only physical evidence of a serial killer who targets nurses, teachers, and cops. He’s on board. But it’s still going to take a couple days. I have a blood type and basic markers. Type is uncommon—B positive. Less than 10 percent of the population. And I got something else for you.”

“Shoot.”

“There’s evidence from the three homeless murders in Spokane. Maddox came by, said you wanted me to take a look at the files. And there is blood evidence that doesn’t match the victims on two of the bodies.”

“B positive.”

“Bingo.”

“Catherine was right. Send her the info. It’ll help with the profile. Thanks, Jim. This is terrific.”

Matt turned back to the lawsuits, finished up his notes, followed up with Ryder about McCafferty to find out when he left Spokane. If he wasn’t here when the three homeless men were killed, then he wasn’t the Triple Killer.

Though one was killed in January, and two in the summer. If he was in college, he could have killed if he came home for breaks.

He planned to meet with Andy Knolls in Liberty Lake that afternoon to discuss each cop who’d attended the briefing and review their cases during the years that overlapped when both Banks and Marston lived in Spokane. All Matt could think about was that the three of them—Banks, Marston, and the potential third cop victim—had all encountered the same person, possibly at different times. Matt also matched up the murders of the three Spokane homeless men—though they occurred the year after Marston left for Missoula.