Page 42

She clicked on the email. It took long seconds for the message to open. This time there was no text. Only a photo. Alexa hissed in a breath, the muscles in her bellytwisting.
“Son of a bitch.” Ethan’s low tone waslethal.
The photo was of her, taken this afternoon. She was standing, half-turned. The image was a little blurry, as if it had caught her in mid-motion. Alexa knew the exact moment it’d been taken. After she’d risen from her mother’s grave and readied toleave.
“Where was thissnapped?”
“This afternoon at Heavenly Angels Cemetery. My mother’s buriedthere.”
“Hefollowedyou?”
The sense of violation was overwhelming. The one moment she’d had with her mother in twenty years had been tainted by the presence of a madman. “We know he’s familiar with our vehicle, since he had the boy repeat the license number of the car he was to make the delivery to.” She tried to recall any vehicle in the vicinity of the cemetery. Failed. “Maybe we’re wrong about the van.” Because there was no way they would have missedthat.
“The forensic ident guys casted the tread prints and measured them. The vehicle that left them has a longer wheelbase than a car or apickup.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Well, he didn’t follow us to the east side of town on foot. He has a secondvehicle.”
Ethan gave a slow nod. “That would explain a lot. Why chance having the van in the same vicinity as the body he carried it in when there are police swarming thearea?”
“He feels invisible,” she murmured, her mind racing. “Because he’s been overlooked all his life. And he’s been operating with impunity for years. Maybe long enough to convince himself that hecan’tbe caught.” Perhaps there was a religious aspect to that, too, if the UNSUB thought his was holy work, he may believe it’d been blessed by the God he claimed to beserving.
“I won’t take that as a dig,” Ethan said wryly and her gaze flew to his again. Was aware for the first time of how close their faceswere.
“I’m trying to think like hedoes.”
“Then think about what this is.” He tapped the screen, before reaching for his phone to take close-up pictures of the image. Alexa stared at the spot he’d indicated. She’d barely noticed it before, so caught up with the fact that the offender had been close enough to witness her vulnerability in thecemetery.
An image had been photoshopped onto her right shoulder. Insects, of course. She slipped out of her chair and went to her briefcase. Hurried back with a magnifying glass. Examining the enlarged image, she said wonderingly, “Termites.”
Ethan looked up from his phone. “What would the significance of that be? Do you think he’s identifying the second insect sample in Lawler’smouth?”
Alexa shook her head, trying to shove aside her burgeoning trepidation. “This will be more personal.” She opened her laptop and brought up the database to double check for accuracy. She wasn’t mistaken. But the symbolism still escapedher.
“The email has vanished.” Ethan straightened. “I’m going to go print this.” Alexa barely noticed him leave. She was already immersed in looking up facts about the insects, rapidly reading article after article. When he returned, she lookedup.
“The image is of a male and female sample ofKalotermes flavicollis. They’re a species of Dampwoodtermites.”
Ethan crossed to drop one of the images he’d printed off onto the desk. “So what’s he telling you? That you and he can destroy buildings and construct your own worldtogether?”
“I’m not exactly certain,” she admitted. “The fact that he included both male and female is probably significant. They may represent him and me.” And she’d never admit how squeamish that made her feel. “Termites are social creatures with a definite caste system. There’s the king and queen, the workers, alates and soldiers. The king and queen mate for life and are responsible for reproduction. They populate the entire colony.” She frowned. “They’re also the only ones in the colony that develop eyes, although they don’t have a strong visual sense.” She wasn’t sure if that fact was important. It was critical not to read too much into the possiblesymbolism.
“Christ, Alexa.” Ethan stared at her with something between horror and distaste in his expression. “You’ve got to see how frightening his focus on you is. And, from a non-bug enthusiast, damncreepy.”
That drew a smile from her. “Well, it’s certainlyunique.”
“Unique, hell.” The concern in his voice was impossible to miss. “I think it’s further proof that encouraging this fixation on you is a mistake. To use it the way Gagnon urged you to do, to draw the guyout.”
They’d come full circle. “I’m familiar with your feelings on thetopic.”
The fact that she said nothing else had him clenching his jaw. But he visibly reined in his temper. Tucked it away. A quality he’d perfected in adulthood. “It’s a moot point,” he managed to say evenly. “The brass has spoken.” He looked down at the images he held. “How long were you at thecemetery?”
“Not long. Twenty minutesmaybe.”
“Were you alonethere?”
She sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to recall. “I really don’t remember,” she said finally. “I didn’t notice any people or cars around when I was trying to find the grave, or when I was walking out again. And I would have, I’m sure of it.” She thought for another minute. “But it’s an old cemetery. Lots of vaults and oversized monuments.” And the possibility that the offender had lurked behind one of them, spying on her, had a new chill breaking out of her skin. “Roads flank the cemetery, with gates on either end. My guess is he followed us, passing by when Nyle let me off and then he returned on the other road. If he parked the vehicle and took the picture from over there, I wouldn’t havenoticed.”
But she resented the intrusion.Fiercely.