Page 108

Raisa
Now
“Dr. Tori Greene,” Raisa said out loud. It was there in black and white on the list of people Conrad had met with in Houston. And there in Isabel’s file: “Dr. Victoria Langston.”
“There’s a chance it’s two different people,” Kilkenny said. She slid him a look, and he held his hands up in surrender. “It had to be said.”
“Both psychiatrists working with children and teens who have faced life-altering trauma,” Raisa drawled. Perhaps she could see the bones of that name shift better since her own—and Isabel’s and Delaney’s—had been altered in similar ways. Just enough to hide them in plain sight.
“Okay, let’s say they’re the same person,” Kilkenny said. “And that she’s our impostor. Why is Kate after her?”
Raisa thought of Isabel. Of Conrad. Of Shay’s siblings. Of the male victims.
They all had the one thing in common.
For you, H.
“Her sister,” Raisa said quietly. “Hana. She stayed in Texas. She was a kid who experienced life-altering trauma at a young age.”
“And maybe Tori targeted her,” Kilkenny said. “I don’t know what that woman’s methods were, but if she was trying to nurture a personality disorder in these kids ... maybe she screwed with Hana’s life enough to leave permanent damage.”
“Enough that Kate would blame Tori for Hana’s death?” Raisa asked.
Kilkenny lifted one shoulder. “Absolutely. It’s true that we don’t know exactly what creates a serial killer, but we have enough evidence that abuse contributes to it. I don’t think she was exactly giving them hugs and praise to bring out their inner monster.”
“Okay, well, then, maybe Hana and Kate reconnected,” Raisa said, gaming it out. “Maybe Hana mentioned a Victoria Langston, but then died soon after. Kate couldn’t find her and correctly assumed she was using a different name now.”
“So she contacted the person she thought could help her,” Kilkenny said. “Conrad.”
“And she made a deal,” Raisa said softly. “Kate films a documentary memorializing Conrad for all of history—or at least the next few years. Kate gets the name of the woman she views as responsible for her sister’s death.”
And Conrad would win the game.
“Shit,” Kilkenny said, and then stood. “We need to find her now.”
“How?” Raisa asked, but Kilkenny was already on his phone.
He pulled it away from his ear after a minute, frowning down at it.
“Pierce isn’t answering.”
“He’s driving,” Raisa reminded him, but he shot her an incredulous look.
“When has that stopped him before?” Kilkenny tapped the screen and brought the phone back to his ear once more. Again, no answer.
Raisa stood now, too, energy thrumming beneath her skin. “Why did he drive all the way out to see Max?”
“I don’t know. It made sense when he said it.” Kilkenny was still staring at his screen as if willing it to ring. “He hasn’t wanted to use resources other than himself for this case.”
“Did he ask you to go?”
“No, he knew I was waiting for Conrad,” Kilkenny said. “But I did tell him to check with you.”
“He asked me,” Raisa said, staring at the floor. “We haven’t exactly been buddy-buddy, though. He probably just asked in case you texted me to make sure he did.”
“But why would he ...?” Kilkenny trailed off. She couldn’t guess what the end of that question was, and she bet that neither could he.
“Do you have his office number?” Raisa asked, and almost before she got the question out, Kilkenny was already tapping away at his screen.