The fog was damp and felt too cool while washing down Ariel’s empty lungs. She gasped and gasped, attempting to catch her breath. Her muscles twitched with the rush of adrenaline flowing through them. She’d run until her lungs were scorching. Now she bent over, dropping her head between her calves. Breathe, breathe, breathe, she told herself. But running until her body felt like sagging down onto the reddish-orange track sand.

She concentrated on Linda Curbelo, Peter Grienke’s first wife, while deciding to take another lap around the track. Soon the sun would be high in the sky. The day would prove to be long whether she wanted it to or not. Long and hot, but for now, her mind was on Linda’s divorce to Grienke. That had occurred almost twenty years ago. Peter hadn’t even made his first million yet. If she’d just held off, she’d have lived a lavish lifestyle and never needed to work again.

Ariel sprinted around the last bend recalling Curbelo’s story. Grienke was a whore in college. Their marriage was short lived, spanning from the senior year of their undergrad degree to just after Grienke tossed his grad cap into the air. He couldn’t keep his cock in his pants.

About five yards from the bleachers, Robertson lifted up from his seat. He tossed her a bottle of water, which she caught and slowed to a stop. Pressing the bottle against her palm, Ariel let the coolness roam over her clammy skin. Ariel mumbled her thanks.

“You’re welcome. Any sudden epiphanies?”

“Yes, we’re going to see Linda Curbelo again.” She opened her water bottle.

“Grienke’s first wife?”

Ariel drunk down the entire contents of the bottle. “I’m assuming Mallory Grienke wasn’t his first tango with brainwashing. We have two other women who disappeared over the years after Linda, prior to the star of the hour,” she gritted out, still angered by the fact that Wulf and the girl were virtually untraceable. “Grienke has a god complex. In a Biblical sense, he’s the one who sanctioned his own Noah’s ark. Albeit, there’d have been less saved. Why did Linda Curbelo survive?”

“Linda Curbelo moved on. She’s remarried, Juarez. A wife. Two kids. Are you suggesting that she still had a hand in Peter’s business? That’s absurd. They parted ways prior to Grienke’s success. And I’m referring to the version as referenced by Wikipedia.”

“Jakob Woods has disappeared. Am I to assume he goes off on murdering sprees when Wulf gets all the loving in a twisted love triangle with Mallory Grienke? Woods has an accomplice. Someone is feeding him exactly which Mary Janes to murder.”

Robertson grabbed a tuft of his thinning hair. They were five deaths in, and geographically, the location of each victim pointed toward Mexico. The Federal Bureau of Investigations attempted to consult with Mexican nationals about Mallory Portman-Grienke, yet the liaisons were taking their sweet time responding.

He nodded. “Okay, I agree. The deaths are all sending him and our team to the doors of Mexico, but as far as an accomplice, Juarez, I think you’re reaching. I think there’s shit dumped onto our plates and no room for more. With all the angles of this case, we could be on an Easter egg hunt for years. None of our team working on computer and records has indicated Linda Curbelo or anyone else that hasn’t been taken in for that matter.”

“Someone is feeding intel to Woods, Robertson.” She gestured with stiff hands from an imaginary point-a to a point-b. “Listen, he was brainwashed initially to work for Beasley as a snitch for Grienke. Grienke does not trust anyone, so why not ensure that you have a loyal servant on your team?”

“True.”

“But our geneticist—heck, that Lyle Fetters brother, Lemuel—indicated that Woods is susceptible to brainwashing. So he gave a damn about Mary Jane, right?”

With a huff, he again nodded.

“Now Woods is a serial killer. Someone is still fucking with his head, Robertson. The shot caller is feeding him bits of information.”

“And Linda Curbelo is the shot caller?”

“If she’s not, I’ll get to my knees and apologize,” she snorted. After all, they didn’t have time for the loser to take the other out for dinner. Their current case was imminent and threatening to destroy more people’s lives.