I looked over at Hanson and shook my head.

“I was talking to the girls.” Crossing my arms, I cocked my head as a thought came to me. “What if it’s not one killer with a split personality but two separate killers with two separate MOs?”

Hanson scoffed, the sound coming out like he thought I was ridiculous. “You know as well as I do the likelihood of two serial killers working together is unrealistic. For two killers to be at this for at least eight years without killing one another? Impossible. They’re known predators. They would’ve deteriorated by now.”

“I know that is what would normally happen, but what if that is the reason why we can’t find a pattern? What if there are two killers at work and then dispose of the kill as one person?”

Hanson shook his head like she was speaking in tongues. “No, I’m sorry, but I’ve seen many cases where there have been two killers, and for that to work, one has to be a subordinate.”

Hanson pointed to the bodies.

“Do either of those bodies look like a subordinate did this? No, this is an alpha personality, a lion at the top of the food chain. Maybe he has different tastes or a split personality like you’ve been theorizing, but two alphas together for this long is impossible.”

Hanson walked away and ended the conversation like I’d been dismissed, and my hand clenched into a fist. My gaze fell on the girls once more. There was a good chance I was wrong. Hanson had made logical points, but weren’t the Tsavo Man-Eaters two lions that learned to kill together? A freaking movie had been made of the real-life accounts of those that had horrifically died.

Stepping around the bodies, I made my way toward Hanson and Sheriff Watts, were laughing about something, most likely my idea.

Hanson may have worked many cases, but it was my gut that was telling me I was on to something, so even if I had to do it on my own time, then that was what I’d do.

One way or another, I was going to find and stop this killer or killers, even if that meant I didn’t have the FBI’s top agent’s support. Hanson could go fuck himself. I’d knocked far tougher guys down a few pegs, and I’d do the same to him.

Chapter 12

CAIN

Thanks to Ricky Rossi, I now had a shiny new ID card and maintenance clothes to match. I looked in the rear-view mirror and smiled at the baseball cap that said Quantico across the navy-colored material. Picking up the clipboard of work orders, I slipped out of the white truck and closed the door with the school logo on the side.