Page 9

Her heart kicked faster as his expression lightened briefly. The tilt of his lips barely qualified as a smile; there and gone so quickly she might have imagined it. So, there was no reason—none at all—for the unsteadiness of herpulse.
“I’ve identified the insects left with the last two victims.” Work. She seized on the distraction with a sense of relief. She crossed to the desk where she’d been sitting when he’d interrupted her and scrolled to the beginning of her notes on the computer screen. “Your unidentified New Brunswick victim had aMelanophila Acuminatain the glassine bag. Common name is fire bug or black firebeetle.”
“Is it exotic, too?” He remained where he was just inside the door, as if rooted inplace.
“Not really. It’s indigenous to North America, Cuba, Europe andAsia.”
Frustration flickered in his expression. “It doesn’t sound like we’re going to get a lead from the insect samples. At least not one that we cantrace.”
“Well, perhaps not directly,” she admitted, slipping her reading glasses from her nose and folding them neatly. “As you said earlier, you’d exhausted the dragonflies as a lead years ago. And if none of the secondary samples were live samples, he could have gotten them from any number of collectors, or, more likely on the Internet. It’d be the most anonymous way to attain them.” She saw the agreement on his face. A face that was leaner than she recalled. Harder. His hair was cropped short, darker now without the sun-streaked strands it used to have. The color was more of a contrast to his icy blue eyes. Ethan had been lithe and rangy as a teen, with an athletic build that had served him well in his obsession with sports. He’d grown into his wide shoulders, filling out in a way that hinted at hard muscle below the muted dark gray suit he stillwore.
“Whatelse?”
She blinked once and attempted to lasso her wayward thoughts. “Ah…the second victim was left withAcanthaspis petax, a member of the Reduviidae family. It’s a type of assassin bug, and found in Africa andMalaysia.”
He stared at her. “I figured you’d go into science someday. But the bug thing…still having a hard time wrapping my head aroundit.”
Questions about her profession were far safer than the emotional quicksand of their past. Alexa seized on the topic gratefully. “I was in biology as an undergrad at Georgetown. One summer I got an internship at the body farm in Knoxville. I worked with the entomology team.” She gave a small shrug. “I was hooked.” Before then she’d always imagined herself working in a lab setting when she finished school. Perhaps teaching eventually. But her first introduction to forensics dictated a natural career course that eventually paired science andcriminology.
“I’ve been working on something else.” She turned to her laptop and pressed the print command. A moment later, the portable printer next to the computer began to buzz then spit out paper. “I believe the samples left with the victims tell us something about why they were selected. Insect behavior can be as fascinating as that of humans.” Alexa’s lips curved at his expression of distaste. “And insects predate people, so that says something about their ability to adapt and evolve. Take the African bat bug that was left with Simard. It’s one of the insect families that practices traumaticinsemination.”
He looked warily intrigued. “Soundspainful.”
“And often deadly. The female has a sexual tract, but it’s rarely used. The male stabs the female through the abdomen with his needle-like genitalia, causing a wound that can cause infection and death.” She tried to temper the enthusiasm in her voice. Not everyone was as fascinated as she was about her work. “Males will also mate with other males in the same way. Females adapted by developing a set of external grooves that guides the males to their genitalia. Males evolved similarly, except the grooves lead to the least critical area of their body, where they are most likely to survive awound.”
He remained silent for a moment. Then, “You’re a bitscary.”
Alexa grinned, and gathered the pages of her report, dug in the computer case for a paper clip and fastened them together before crossing the room to hand them to him. “The thing that clicked for me was Simard’s criminal sheet. You said he filmed pornographic movies. Was suspected of making snuff films. Maybe we want to tug on that string a bit more. Violent sex that ends in death…the offender may have targeted him because of hispastimes.”
He propped a shoulder against the door, began flipping through the papers in his hand. “Now would be as good a time as any to tell you I don’t deal well withmaybes.”
“In science, we call it a hypothesis. Our investigation will prove or disprove it.” Seeing the objection on his face, she hurried on. “I can take over that end ofthings.”
Ethan looked unconvinced. “What about the other samples wefound?”
“The unidentified victim in New Brunswick was the one left with the black fire beetle. They mate inside smoldering trees, like in forest fires.” She paused a beat. “His hands were badly burned. The link between the type of torture he underwent and the secondary insect is unmistakable.” She saw by the arrested expression on Ethan’s face that he’d grasped thesignificance.
“So according to your idea that the victims are selected according to their pasts, our John Doe is what…anarsonist?”
Alexa lifted a shoulder. “Something to do with fire, possibly. Fireman. Arson investigator. Or maybe he was in the insurance field. But our unknown subject believes that the unidentified man, like the other victims, is deserving of his death. I think that’s what the second insect and the torture tells us. It’s part of thevictimology.”
“What about the second New Brunswick victim?” Ethan asked, folding his arms across his chest. Despite his pose, he didn’t seem to be rejecting her theory outright. “AlbertNorton.”
A wave of exhaustion hit her then and she backed up a few steps to sit on the side of the bed. She snuck a look at the clock on the bedside table. She’d only slept about four hours last night. Fatigue hadn’t been a problem while she was working, but now she could feel a crash comingon.
She nodded toward the report he still held. “The insect sample taken from his mouth was anArilus cristatus,or wheel bug, of the Reduviidae or assassin bugfamily.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “Assassinbug?”
“They’re carnivorous predators. Great for the gardens because they feed on common pests that harm plants. Norton had the number twenty-eight carved into his back. Does he have arecord?”
“Nothing that stuck, but he’s been hauled in twice in the last decade for questioning in homicideinvestigations.”
A thrill of adrenaline zipped up her spine. “That bears more lookinginto.”
“No shit.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Stopped mid-action to look at her. “Of the three insect samples left with the victims, only one isn’t common to this area. The one left with Simard. I’m guessing you think that’simportant.”
“I do. He could have chosen a bat bug—or a bedbug for that matter—that’s found locally. Like the torture, the selection of a more exotic insect singles Simard out. Something about the man was especially noteworthy to the offender. Or the UNSUB feels Simard is particularly heinous in some way.” Pressing a hand against her mouth for a moment to stifle a yawn, Alexa said sheepishly, “Sorry. The long day is catching up withme.”