The Hunt

CHAPTER 28

Qui

Next to him, Miranda stirred. Her hair fa

His phone chirped again. Duty called.

“Peterson,” he answered.

“It’s Colleen. I’m getting a bad feeling about Larsen.”

“What happened?”

“The wildlife biology department director, a-um, Sarah Tyne-called the university’s off-site research lab in Craig. That’s up in northwest Colorado. Wanted to pull Larsen’s log sheets. He last checked in on Monday.”

“The day after we found Rebecca’s body.”

“Right. He said he was going back to monitor some peregrine falcons. That’s his specialty. So one of the research guys went out there early this morning.”

Qui

“Nope. In addition to his Denver apartment-which is empty-he lives in a trailer way out in the middle of nowhere, and his field supplies were there, but no Larsen. They tried calling him on the radio-the researchers are required to keep them on at all times when in the field-no answer.”

“Did you find out what kind of car or truck he drives? Is it there?” Qui

“He drives a truck, but I don’t have the details. It’s not with his trailer.”

“I’ll check on car registration. Get out there and see what you can find. If he turns up, detain him. I’m going to put an APB out on him. For questioning only-I don’t want him getting spooked. And do it quietly-I don’t want him panicking and killing Ashley van Auden. He’s only had her two days. She’s probably still alive.”

“Got it.”

“If you find him, Colleen, I get first crack at him.” Qui

Miranda spoke quietly. “David Larsen. It seems like such a normal name.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, brushing the hair back with his fingers. He wanted to take away her pain, steal her memories so she’d never again think about David Larsen or the women he had killed. Qui

“You okay?” he asked.

“I will be.”

She didn’t sound like herself, but he didn’t press it. He would, later.

He kissed her again and rolled out of bed. “I’m going to the Sheriff’s Department. Want me to drop you off at the University?”

“Yeah. I need to check in on my team.”

“Don’t go anywhere alone. Anywhere .”

“I won’t.” Her voice sounded distant.

“Miranda, we’ll find him. He’s not going to touch you. And for the first time, I think we can get to him before Ashley dies.”

“I think so, too,” she said. “And there’s nothing I want more, except-” She paused. “Nick. Ashley might be alive, but what about Nick?” She stopped, unable to go on. She slid out of bed and dressed. “I’m going to take a quick shower and I’ll meet you in twenty minutes at your car.”

Qui

“I know. But it doesn’t seem like enough.”

At the Sheriff’s Department, Qui

“Anything.”

Good kid. No wonder Nick had liked him. “Could you go to the University and stick with Miranda? Anywhere she goes, I want you nearby.”

“Did something happen?”

“We have a suspect. David Larsen.”

“The wildlife biologist?”

“He’s missing, he had opportunity, and we’ve ruled out the other three men on the short list. My people are doing an in-depth background check on him right now. I’ll call you with more information as I get it. But if he feels pressured in any way, he might do something unpredictable. I don’t want Miranda in his sights.”

“I’ll stick to her like bees on honey.”

Not that close, Qui

“Booker, keep the info under your hat. Miranda knows-but I don’t want the press getting hold of it yet. Not until we have more information.”

“Got it.” Booker left.

Qui

Federal Bureau of Investigation. Seattle. His office.

He pulled the paper out of the undersheriff’s hands. It was the background information on David Larsen.

Truck… recent model, four-wheel drive. Powerful. Graduated from MSU… doctorate at Colorado… wildlife biologist.. . very little detail. He knew most of this stuff.

Parents-deceased. Siblings-one sister . One sister? What about her name, residence, status?

Harris slammed down the phone. “What are you doing?”

“This fax was addressed to me.”

“It came in to my office.”

“It was addressed to me,” Qui

Harris stood, walked around the desk. “Agent Peterson, you didn’t tell me you had a suspect. What kind of respect does that show my department?”

Qui

“If the sheriff were still here, you would have called him first thing.”

That was true. Qui

“Point taken. I’m sorry.”

Harris’s jaw worked and his face grew red. “You Feds think you know everything. Fine. Solve this case without me. But you’ll be sorry.”

Qui

“Nothing,” he snapped, and walked out.

Shit, the last thing Qui

Qui

Not when the life of a young woman was at stake.

His eyes rested on a small photo partially hidden under the blotter. He pulled it out.

It was actually a series of four photos, Miranda and Nick, taken in one of those two-dollar photo booths. Miranda smiled the same in each shot, a little self-conscious even though no one but she and Nick was likely to ever see these pictures.

Nick, on the other hand, was more animated. First smiling wide, then making a silly face, and in the third he was making rabbit ears with his fingers over Miranda’s head.

In the last picture, he was looking at her, and Qui

All jealousy at Nick’s past relationship and friendship with Miranda flew out the window. Raw emotion climbed his throat thinking about his friend who was now probably dead.

One mistake, and Nick had paid with his life. It wasn’t fair, and Qui

He put the pictures in his wallet, pla

There was a lot of ground to cover and little time.

Miranda had six deputies assigned to Search and Rescue, and she sent one with two volunteers into the area south of Gallatin Gateway. Qui

He stressed that Larsen was only wanted for questioning, but everyone knew what that meant.

They had their first real suspect in twelve years.

Miranda didn’t have a lot of hope that her team would find Ashley, but going through the motions helped her push to the back of her mind that she knew the identity of the Butcher. Once everyone was gone and she was alone, she sank into a chair and closed her eyes.

And pictured him .

She’d only seen that one photograph of Larsen, but it was too easy to animate it, to put his picture on the faceless man who’d tortured her and shot Sharon in the back.

Run. Run!

She’d never seen David Larsen. She would have remembered his face. But she knew his voice, the low monotone, cruel in its lack of emotion. His words and actions not matching the distant, almost bored tone.

She was certain she’d never seen him because surely his evil heart would be visible. His hatred for women etched on his face.

But in the photograph, David Larsen appeared neither evil nor hate-filled. His was the face of an ordinary man. Pleasant on the surface. Normal .

The Butcher was anything but normal .

She remembered a biblical lesson from her father. That evil could masquerade as beauty, that black hearts were sometimes clothed in compassion. Evil didn’t have a calling card alerting everyone to its pending visit. Evil came and went with a smile, laughing at the lives destroyed in its wake. The serpent who enticed Eve to sample the forbidden fruit couldn’t have been repulsive, or she would have run in terror. No, the serpent must have been a thing of beauty, a thing that called all to trust it. Don’t trust what you see with your eyes.

Evil lurks beneath the surface.

“Miranda?”

She jumped out of her seat and reached for her gun at the same time.

It was Deputy Booker.

“Shit, Lance.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared.” She’d been terrified. Sitting here alone, thinking about the Butcher and David Larsen and Sharon… “What can I do for you?”

“Agent Peterson asked me to stick by you today. You know, since they can’t find Larsen and all.”

Last week, she would have been furious at Qui

But while she had been trained in self-defense, taught it to the women at the University, and kept in shape, and knew she could find her way in any part of the county, the thought of facing David Larsen in person paralyzed her.