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Dana’s pulsepounded as she watched Hartwell’s team execute a knock and announce before busting down Dvita’s front door.

The team of officers rushed inside, Hartwell and Richter following closely behind. Dana was one of the last to enter after the all-clear was given.

She entered the cop-filled study to see Dvita sitting calmly at his desk, hands raised above his head, a black jump drive clutched in his right fist. “Take him into custody,” Richter ordered. “And read him his rights. We do this by the book, people. The D.C. Reaper isn’t getting off on a technicality.”

Dvita laughed. “The D.C. Reaper? You can’t be serious!” He laughed again. “Honestly this is a huge misunderstanding. I’ll cooperate any way I can, officers. All my files are on the jump drive I was holding. I rushed back here to get it ready for Agent Richter and Dr. Gray. You’re welcome to it if you think it will help.”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Hartwell growled, getting in his face. “But by all means, keep talking, buddy. Nothing would make me happier than to nail your ass to the wall.”

Dana hated the way Dvita smirked as Hartwell cuffed him.

Even after the police hauled him out to the waiting squad car, she couldn’t get the image of him sitting calmly at his desk out of her mind.

He’d been waiting for them.

“Something’s not right,” she said, looking at the stack of files neatly piled in the center of his desk. The jump drive sat on top in an evidence bag. “He had it ready to hand over.”

Richter rubbed the graying stubble on his jaw. “I agree. He doesn’t answer the door, but then acts overly cooperative and gives up this flash drive.”

Hartwell walked back into the office, visibly agitated. “That’s because he’s lawyered up.” He threw a business card on the desk, displaying the name of one of the most prominent law firms in town. “He knows if he appears to be cooperating, a judge won’t grant a search warrant. We’ll only get access to files relevant to the case. Which means only what he sees fit to give us.”

“What about the jump drive?” Dana asked.

“We have to turn it over to discovery.”

“Then we request a warrant for immediate access to whatever’s on it,” Dana said.

“We’d need to be specific,” Hartwell argued. “HIPAA doesn’t mess around when it comes to protecting patients’ privacy.”

“We just need access to the files for his patients from Passages,” Dana replied.

“That’s more than we have the time or manpower to comb through,” Richter warned.

“Then the eleven names the BAU came up with,” she specified. “Start with Hayes, Holloway, and Marx. Then anything you can find on Claire Townsend and Max Durnin. He’s the missing orderly at Passages. He and Claire may be romantically involved. They were both close to Kylie Marx.”

“The only eyewitness is romantically involved with the only missing patient? Christ, Gray, anything else we need to know?”

She shook her head, regretting having kept the information private. “I didn’t think Claire’s personal life was relevant.”

“Everything is relevant!” Hartwell shouted, pacing the room.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I think we should talk to Claire.”

“We already tried that,” Hartwell grumbled.

“That was right after Hayes was murdered. She’s lost two more friends since then,” Dana added.

“And you think that’s going to suddenly jog her memory?” Hartwell shook his head. “Even if it does, we’re not going to get reliable information from a psych patient.”

“It’s worth a shot. Maybe making Claire feel like she’s part of this, helping in some way, will get her to open up about Max. If we can find him, we might find what we need to unlock this case.”

Richter stepped in. “Couldn’t hurt. Let’s talk to Claire after we visit Miss Kincaid.”

“What do you want me to do with Dvita?” Hartwell asked. “I can only hold him for twenty-four hours.”

“Do it.” Richter ordered. “If there’s another death while he’s in lockup, we know we’ve got the wrong guy.”