Page 124 of Girl Between

“It’s more complicated than that,” Dana replied. “But with Monroe’s medical background he could figure it out. Besides, some people are so desperate they’re willing to do anything.” Dana turned to the agent next to her. “I need a list of everyone in Louisiana on the transplant list. Past patients as well.”

“What are you thinking?” LaSalle asked.

“We contact people on the list. Find out if any of them were approached by Monroe.”

“I like it,” LaSalle said. “I’m all for gathering enough evidence to put this sick bastard behind bars for life.”

“If he’s our guy,” said the agent behind the wheel.

“He is,” Dana and LaSalle replied in unison.

LaSalle gave Dana a wink in the rearview before putting in her earbuds and closing her eyes. Getting even a few moments of rest would’ve been a good idea, but Dana was too wound up, her muscles coiled tight with the anticipation of a new lead.

For the first time since stumbling her way onto this case, she knew she was heading in the right direction.

107

The Monroe propertywas a place of horrors. A veil of unease emanated from every corner as Dana and the task force began their search.

If such a thing as a breeding ground for serial killers existed, Dana was certain she’d found it. Her spine tingled as she crossed the overgrown acres, the wind whispering warnings with each step. She could feel the tales of torment deep in the soil of this place. It hung in the hushed quiet of the abandoned land.

If Levi Monroe ever lived here, it was a long time ago.

There were no signs of life anywhere on the property, rather it seemed a monument to death.

After the outbuildings and farmhouse were cleared by law enforcement, Dana joined them to examine what was left.

She started in the slaughterhouse. The stench was the first thing to assault her as she stepped inside. Death dwelled here, clinging to every surface. Bones and bloodstains marred the wooden floor, blanketed by a layer of dust and misery.

The building was a relic of decay, a shrine to killing, hidden behind a façade of rural charm. Every cobwebbed corner seemed to hold secrets, every shadow a potential threat. Sorrow seeped deepinto Dana’s bones as she stood where so many animals had met their end.

Was this where Monroe got his start? His first kill? His thirst for blood?

Dana’s attention was suddenly drawn to the K9 unit entering the building. The large German Shepherd balked upon entering the kill room. He looked up at his handler as if to say this is not a safe place. But ever the professional, the dog followed orders and entered the room. It paced a few feet, circled, then lay down. The agent handling the dog set a marker on the spot and signaled the dog to move on. Again, the dog paced several feet, circled, then lay down. Down went another marker.

The cycle continued until the entire slaughterhouse floor was dotted with yellow evidence markers.

“Is that normal?” Dana asked when LaSalle strode over.

She shook her head. “This K-9 is trained to identify human remains. Slaughterhouse must be throwing it off.”

“We’ve got something,” one of the BAU agents called, signaling George to join him at the first marker.

Dana and LaSalle hurried over to peer at the image reflected on a LiDAR screen. The ground-penetrating technology wasn’t something Dana was proficient in, but she didn’t need to be an expert in subterranean radar to know what she was looking at—bones. Human bones.

108

The sheer numberof human remains they’d uncovered in the slaughterhouse would take weeks to sort. The fact that they’d been mixed with the animal remains would make the already daunting process take even longer. Something Monroe planned for no doubt.

But why?

The remains confirmed Dana had been right. Monroe was definitely involved, but she still couldn’t figure out his motive, which left his end game one big looming question.

She was stewing over it when the first whistle blew.

George had called for reinforcements after the K9 unit identified the remains in the slaughterhouse. Three more K9 teams were currently combing the vast property on the hunch Monroe had buried more secrets. The sharp peal of the whistle signaled the dogs had just uncovered one.

Two hours later, Dana stood in the old barn’s hayloft overlooking the vastness of the Monroe property. Below them, tarps and tents were beginning to take shape as dozens of agents and officers milled about the grounds.