Laurel filtered through several pictures, finally finding one with the first man’s face in focus. It was Dr. Keyes. She recognized him from his photograph on the hospital website. She kept rifling through the pictures, many depicting men who hadn’t been identified as of yet. “Our suspect pool might’ve just exploded.”

“Yeah. To an ocean.” Huck shook his head. “I have no problem with kink, but tracking down all of these guys is going to take time. I’ll need to bring donuts to the office.”

“Oh.” Laurel paused at seeing a familiar face. She held up the picture. “Officer Frank Zello.” His handlebar mustache was unmistakable.

Huck paused. “That’s interesting. He was the only point of contact for Dr. Rox, and he might’ve met Abigail at the auction.”

True. Laurel nodded. “He also didn’t tell us of his affair with Sharon Lamber. He should have. We’ll have to bring him in.”

Huck sucked in air, and his nostrils flared as he looked at another picture.

“What?” Laurel asked, her nape itching.

His chin lowered. “Sharon Lamber and Davie Tate.” They were definitely engaged in sex. “He’s seventeen. Just a kid.”

Laurel sat back on her knees, pictures on her lap. “We’re going to need to bring him back in as well.”

Huck looked at several more pictures. “This isn’t his fault. She was the adult.”

“No. But if he killed her, he has to answer for it.” Laurel felt nauseated.

“Yeah. We’ll bring both Zello and Davie in tomorrow morning, and we need to find the cardiac surgeon.” Huck looked up, his eyes blazing. “I’m tired of this damn case.”

Laurel looked at her watch. “Me, too. And he’s going to take another victim soon.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He’d been rushed during his time with Dr. Franklin, and it wasn’t his fault. Fuck the FBI. He was glad he’d shot the fat guy and wished he could shoot him again. Nobody messed with his timeline. Yet he’d had no choice but to move fast before they could put his Christine somewhere safe.

There was no safety from him.

They should all know that by now.

Kicking snow, he moved between the trees, wanting to howl at the glowing moon. If he were an animal, he’d be a wolf. Primitive and deadly. He punched a tree and the pain grounded him. He’d taken Christine to that stupid cabin during the daytime. Wolves like him hunted at night. He hadn’t gotten to spend enough time with her.

She’d been a fighter, but he’d been stronger. It was that simple.

Although he had enjoyed pouring water on her and watching it freeze. That cold bitch deserved to be frozen in a solid block. They all did. They had ice in their veins, and they should see how it felt to be surrounded by it.