“He kills his victims when they’re unconscious and unable to fight back,” Matt said, “again confirming that he is weak and believes that he is powerless.

“We also believe that his first victim knew him—that she may have recognized him, or would have if given the opportunity. He killed her in front of her infant son, leaving the child in a stroller only feet from his dead mother. He’s cruel, without concern for others, and he will not stop until we stop him.

“My team will stop him. The FBI has devoted people and resources to ensure this cowardly killer is caught and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. We have hit the ground running because Ms. Manners’ body was found quickly, only hours after she was so brutally murdered. We’ve found more evidence at this crime scene than at all the other crime scenes combined. We’ve found the knife used to stab her, the clothes the killer wore when he killed her, and the vehicle used to transport the victim to Liberty Lake. My top forensic criminalist is working closely with experts at the Spokane crime lab, and together, we’ll process the evidence quickly and efficiently, with the goal of apprehending this killer before he strikes again.”

19

Spokane
4:20 p.m.

Kara only half listened to the cops as they did their talk. She was watching the crowd. She’d done this dozens of times in a variety of circumstances, looking for small signs that someone was off. That someone was just a bit too interested or a bit too angry.

She started by analyzing the press. If she were a bad guy who wanted to check on the progress of a criminal investigation, she’d take on the role of someone expected to be in attendance. Press was logical. But each person had the reporter vibe. Some had a cameraman or another person carrying equipment. The dress, the mannerisms—she dismissed everyone in the press pool within minutes.

She looked at the larger group of anticrime activists, who stood on the grassy area outside the police department, or next to the narrow road. She sidled up to a young woman carrying a toddler on her back in one of those kid backpack things. No chance she was the killer, so Kara asked her about their group. There were seven, all wearing the same American Flag shirt. The mom knew all of them, and would have chattered on the entire conference if Kara didn’t get away from her.

Several too old. A lone teenager holding a skateboard—much like the skateboard Kara had tucked under her arm—looking more amused than anything. That kid was up to something, but he wasn’t the killer, so Kara put him in the back of her mind. Two lone men. She photographed them discreetly. They were the right age—thirties—and looked normal in every way. One of them approached the woman with the baby and kissed her—okay, husband, anticrime group, dressed like a businessman. The other walked away to the side. She approached, stood three feet behind him, and half listened to the speech while watching him.