“No souvenirs, to our knowledge.” Which was interesting in and of itself. Most serial killers took something from their victims. Most—not all. Shrinks had different theories about souvenir collection, but Matt thought that when this particular killer was done, he was done. Victim dead, didn’t give them a second thought. Didn’t need to relive the moment months later. Maybe that’s one reason he was so methodical in his timeline—he didn’t need an object to remember his crimes.

“She was wearing a special brand of support panty hose that many nurses wear while on duty—the hose on her right foot was cut.”

“On purpose?”

“I don’t believe so. It seems that it was snagged on something sharp. The bottom of her foot has a small cut on it at the point where the hose was snagged.”

“That’s good, Doc.”

“I swabbed her foot for particulates, which I also sent to the lab. There appeared to be a color to it, possibly paint, but to the naked eye I couldn’t state with certainty.”

“So, theoretically, she could have lost her shoe during the attack or in the vehicle the suspect transported her in.” Which may have even been her own car because they hadn’t located it yet. “Cut her foot at some point, but on something that was painted, which wouldn’t be in the middle of the woods.”

“It’s a theory, at any rate.”

Definitely something to mull over. But the key thing was that if they found a suspect, they had something specific to look for on his property. Matching trace evidence could make the difference for the prosecution.

Reynolds said, “You didn’t ask about the stethoscope.”

“I didn’t think she was strangled. Was she?”

“No. The stethoscope was wrapped around her neck after she was already dead. I sent it to the lab—I don’t think it was hers.”

Now that was interesting. “Why?”

“It was new. I don’t think it’s been used much, if at all. There was still some plastic around a portion of the tubing. Plus, we found a second stethoscope—a used one—in the pocket of her scrubs.

More than a little interesting, but Matt didn’t know what to make of it. “Thanks.”

“Did the other victims have stethoscopes around their necks?”

“No.”

What did it mean? Matt had no idea. It seemed random, but it may have meant something to the killer.

Or he could be simply fucking with them. Leaving something with one victim, taking something from another, cleaning up—he had a plan and executed it, yet tweaked a few small details. But never the manner of death. At least, he hadn’t if they had identified all his victims.

He cut them down the middle, then sliced them another three times for good measure.

Or three times because that was his lucky number. Three victims spaced three days apart every three years—starting, always, on the third day of the third month.

Matt had his work cut out for him, and he didn’t even have his full team in place.