When Sergeants Ian McManus and Jonah Bannon walked into the briefing at the RCMP headquarters the next morning, Alexa was the only one in the room who seemed surprised. There’d been no conversation on the way here from the hotel. Ethan had been on the phone the whole time while Nyle drove. There had, however, been coffee, and Alexa was grateful for that.

She smiled when the two newcomers seated themselves on either side of her. “Good to meet you in person, Doc,” Ian said gruffly. His tie today was eye-popping fuschia with a pink and purple flamingo on it.

“I thought you’d be taller,” deadpanned Jonah.

Alexa laughed. “I used to be. Ethan chewed a couple of inches off me yesterday.”

Ethan looked up, the phone still pressed to his ear and frowned in their direction.

“He’s got to realize he can’t treat civilian consultants the way he does the rest of us,” Jonah remarked. “Especially when you don’t have inches to spare.”

Nyle fiddled with the video conferencing equipment. It seemed odd, once it was turned on, to see only two participants instead of four. Steve Friedrich and Captain Campbell.

“Feels sort of lonely on this side,” remarked the wise-cracking Friedrich.

“Believe me, it was nothing you said,” replied Jonah. “Or wait, maybe it was.”

“Gentlemen.” The Captain looked sober. “I’m anxious to hear about what went down in Victoria Park last night.”

Alexa leaned forward. She’d heard only the barest details from Nyle on the way here this morning. But as Ethan recounted the events from last night, a cold pool of dread pooled in her stomach.

They’d been right. The offender had taken the opportunity the vigil offered and shown up.

“We believe he came armed with Scopolamine,” Ethan said grimly. “When he first started to approach the stand-in, he was holding what looked like a needle.”

Alexa’s trepidation intensified. Not for what might have happened. She didn’t waste time on could-haves. No, her foreboding was reserved for the evidence of the UNSUB’s recklessness. She’d seen the map Ethan had put up yesterday. It was a green space smack dab in an urban area, with streets bordering all four sides of it. Yes, there were plenty of trees, but she didn’t think there was enough cover that he could have possibly expected to escape detection.

Either he’d quickly hit upon a foolproof plan, or he’d taken an incredible risk. The type that had, until the last few days, been foreign to him.

“…IT to get us a clearer picture of the keys he was holding. One of the officers spotted an insignia on it that might be the CarsNow logo, but we need to be certain before we get a production order for the rental records.”

“Oh.” She snapped to attention. “When we do get that order, we’ll be looking for a Toyota Camry. Black or navy, with a light-colored interior.” She smiled in satisfaction when all the men stared at her. “After Ethan gets done filling you in on the events of last night, I’ll tell you about my evening.”

* * *

“And this is why I don’t like to let you out of my sight,” Ethan muttered, as he and Alexa walked to the IT area in the Halifax RCMP facility.

“You have to realize how illogical that is,” she remarked airily, “when you’re the one who refused to let me go with you last night.”

“I specifically told you to stay here and answer messages left on the tip line.” He wasn’t angry, not exactly, but she’d describe his mood as smoldering.

“You didn’t tell me to stay here.” They descended the stairway. “You assumed I’d stay since I had no way of getting home with everyone gone. So as long as I was going to have to summon an Uber anyway, you can hardly quibble that I took one to conduct some interviews in person.”

“I think you’d be surprised by what I can find to quibble about in that plan.” He was silent for a few moments as they walked down the hallway to the IT offices. “How sure did Owens seem about the vehicle?”

“He was useless when it came to describing the person with Lawler, but was unshakeable when it came to the car. I’m sure that’s a guy thing. Said he drove a red one like it.”

“I may need to talk to him.”

“I hope you do.” She rather liked the idea of Owens coming up against Ethan’s implacable persona instead of a woman he thought he could charm.

Ethan stopped suddenly enough that Alexa bumped into him. “Looking for Officer Peters.”

The area was a rabbit warren of desks, with electronic equipment taking up the rest of the available space. “You’ve found him.” A stocky balding man stood up and gave them a wave. “I’ve got some photos for you. Blew up that insignia on the keychain from the video you sent over.” Alexa and Ethan headed for the man’s desk and looked at the sheets he’d spread out on it. “Here’s the clearest I could get.” It was a close-up of a logo, taken, Alexa knew, from this morning’s briefing, of the UNSUB’s keychain. It was still fuzzy enough to make positive ID uncertain.

“I looked on a site we keep of product logos and insignias. I downloaded the ones I think looked close, blew them up to the right size for comparison.” He sat down at the desk and tapped a few keys on his laptop. The insignias appeared. He picked up the image taken from last night’s film and held it up to each on the screen by turn.

“The interlocking ‘C’ and ‘N,’” Ethan said certainly.

“It’s the closest,” Peters agreed. “The item on the film was too small and too far away to enhance without losing detail in the picture. But here,” he reached an index finger to trace the photo he’d made, “you’ve got a half-arc, straight lines on either side of the bottom letter with a diagonal. That looks like the insignia you have. Here’s another with a ‘C’ and ‘H’ for some fashion designer and her products.” He brought the appropriate image up on the screen. “But going with the law of probability, a rental car agency is far more likely to put their logo on a keychain tag than some fancy designer who sells purses for what I spend on groceries every month.” He handed the image to Ethan. “Does that help at all?

“Helps a lot. Thank you.” Ethan and Alexa turned to make their way back upstairs. “With this and what you came up with last night, we’ve got enough to get a production order,” Ethan told her. “That will require the agencies to produce data and records about their clients for the last few days.”

Her eyes lit up. “This could be the lead we’ve been waiting for.”

Ethan didn’t answer. He’d seen too many similar leads fizzle at the end to allow himself to hope. But if they were going to catch a break in this case, this would be the time for it.

* * *

There were six CarsNow rental agencies in Nova Scotia, mostly congregated around Halifax and its suburbs. The one outlier was in New Glasgow, over an hour and a half away. The team would spread out, armed with copies of the production warrant and pictures of the offender. For once Alexa didn’t protest sticking with Ethan. He wasn’t sure if that was progress or if she was as wiped out by last night as he was. They would visit the agency in Dartmouth, go back to the RCMP headquarters to check the license numbers against the photo IDs in the DMV database, and if they were unsuccessful, they’d drive to New Glasgow.

While Ethan drove, Alexa brought up the company’s site on her phone. A map appeared, with the colored markers where their rental agencies were. “We know Fornier said Simard thought he’d seen Anis Tera in a white van the day before he died. Maybe that spooked the UNSUB. It might have been the moment he decided to get a rental.”

“Which then gave him two vehicles he had to deal with.” Ethan braked suddenly to avoid a running into a driver turning against a red light. “Our patrols have discovered nothing with the stop-and-checks they’ve been running. So he’s keeping the van out of sight somewhere.”

“Except when he uses it for the homicides.”

“Except then,” Ethan agreed grimly.

“Which brings up a point.” She half-turned in the seat to look at him. “According to Owens, the offender used a car to pick up Lawler. But his van was spotted by Grayson Quinton at the lake that night. Which means he transported her to wherever he was keeping the van, then drove that to the dumpsite.”

Ethan slowed to pay at the toll station before crossing the McKay bridge that would take them to Dartmouth. “If the offender thought Simard would recognize the Econoline, he probably used the rental to snatch him, too. I can’t see him just leaving the van out in the open in a motel parking lot. He seems too cautious for that.”

“These days, he could get a residential rental through Airbnb or a similar site. He might have a local home with a garage he’s staying in.”

It was feasible, Ethan supposed, keeping a close eye on the bridge traffic. There were too damn many possibilities, which was the problem. It seemed reasonable to assume that the UNSUB would stay in the vicinity since both victims were snatched from there. But it was impossible to know how far outside the metro area he might have strayed.

One would think that the offender would want to avoid people as much as possible. Which would make a remote two- or three-star motel attractive to him. One where there weren’t a lot of questions asked, and no one cared much about the occupants’ comings and goings. Which, Ethan supposed, could also be said for an isolated rental property.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“What?”

“Why…” she pounded lightly on her knee with a closed fist for emphasis. “…does he need the van at all? Yes, he likely drove it into Nova Scotia from New Brunswick. But once he had the rental, it seems like a car would be less noticeable.”

“Spaciousness,” he suggested, but now that she had him thinking about it, he was wondering the same thing. “We know he often uses a dolly to get the bodies from the vehicle to the dumpsite.”

“Okay, so he puts the body in the trunk and the dolly in the back seat,” she said logically. She bent over her phone. A quick glance told him she was looking up the measurements of dollies. His mouth quirked. Scientific to the end.

“Privacy. No windows for anyone to look inside.”

“Or maybe,” Alexa said slowly, “it is space he needs.”

Ethan slowed to a stop for a red light. “I think I said that. There are supplies he’d carry with him. The insects. Tape. Plastic bags. We know he had a power drill and scalpels or knives for the last two victims.”

She was still staring at her phone. This time she was searching the dimensions of the Econoline cargo vans. After a few minutes, Alexa murmured, “He could haul a lot in that big a vehicle.”

“Again, that’s what I—”

She raised her head to look at him. “But maybe he’s using it for more than that. Maybe it’s his kill site.”

A knot of tension formed at the top of his spine. “No way to prove that.” At least, he thought grimly, accelerating when the light turned green, not until they found the vehicle and had the forensic ident guys go through it.

“Obviously. But it would explain why you’ve never found the kill site for any of the homicides.” She was getting excited about her idea now. It sounded in her voice. “He’s killed in all seasons. In most of the provinces and territories. Many times, it had to have been in places with which he’s unfamiliar. No primary crime scene lessens the chances of leaving evidence behind. And it’d be one less thing to have to scout ahead of time.”

“He’d still have to keep the van somewhere isolated when he killed them.” But her idea wasn’t totally without merit. The problem was, it was all speculation, which this case had plenty of. It was facts and evidence that were in short supply.

Ethan remembered something he’d meant to discuss with Alexa. “I expected the UNSUB to reach out to you after the vigil.” Accelerating after he left the bridge, he glanced over at her. “I figured he’d be agitated by the way things went down. We could see in the film the exact moment he must have realized that Lavoie wasn’t you.”

The expression on Alexa’s face was more telling than a shout. He thought it wise to ignore it. The video clip showing the moment the UNSUB had approached the stand-in was chilling. Because Ethan couldn’t be certain the officers wouldn’t have behaved the same way if it had been Alexa there. Leaving her exposed and vulnerable. How close would the offender have gotten to her before their attention had returned to the woman they were supposed to be guarding? “I thought he’d contact you again if only to castigate you for not being at the park.”

She nodded slowly. “I feared how he might react if he discovered the decoy. But I expected him to respond in some way. I don’t think he would have felt threatened by the way the evening transpired. He would have seen it as going according to plan, up until the point when he realized I wasn’t there.”

“What do you think the UNSUB’s silence means?”

“It’s worrisome,” she admitted. “Not contacting me shows a self-discipline I didn’t expect. Because I think I reached him with the press conference message. He’s regrouping somewhere, considering his options. He may decide that these risks aren’t worth it and try to get out of the province.”

Somehow Ethan doubted it. “You don’t believe that.”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure. If four homicides in a short amount of time are him catching up for time lost, that says one thing about him. But I think it’s more than that. I’m guessing that the injuries he sustained at Fornier’s hand acted as a trigger that caused his escalation. If I had to make a prediction…right now he’s planning his next move.”

* * *

“I don’t know.” Molly, the young woman who’d greeted them with a cheery smile as they entered the Dartmouth CarsNow agency now sported a worried frown as she perused the production order Ethan handed her. “I mean…I’ve never seen one of these things.” She waved at the sheet of paper. “And my supervisor isn’t in yet, and I’d be in a lot of trouble if I didn’t follow procedure.”

“You’ll be in more trouble if you ignore the order, which has been duly signed by a justice of the peace.” Ethan tapped the signature at the bottom. “What this says is you supply all client records for a window of four days.” Simard had seen the offender on Saturday. Owens had spotted Lawler being helped into a car outside Zoomey’s after midnight Thursday morning. “It narrows it down to Toyota Camrys, dark-color exterior with a light interior.”

“I don’t know,” Molly said again, doubtfully. “My supervisor is a real…I mean he can be difficult. And if I screw up one more time, I think he’s going to get rid of me.”

“Chances are he’ll know what a production order means.” Alexa gave her a friendly smile. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he has a boss to report to, and that person will. You won’t get in any trouble for following the law.”

“I wish I was as sure as you are.” But she sat down at her desk and began bringing up records. “Do you want drivers of both genders?”

“Yes,” Ethan and Alexa responded simultaneously. After last night, Ethan wasn’t certain what to expect. If the offender had obtained the license at a DMV station and given a false name and a phony address, the picture would be that of a man. It was far harder to pull that sort of charade in clear view of a DMV attendant.

But if he’d obtained false ID…people who forged documents for a living would have no compunction about someone attempting to disguise his gender.

“You got it.” The printer on her desk began to whir. “We’ve been pretty busy,” Molly said chattily. “What with the nice weather and it being tourist season. More and more people are asking for the small SUVs, but I always tell them, the mid-sized sedans are often roomier for luggage.”

“Were you working those days?” Alexa asked.

Molly nodded. “All of them. My day off is Wednesday.”

Alexa had brought in copies of the offender sketches, and she unfolded them now, holding them up for the young woman to see. “Do you happen to remember seeing someone who looked like either of these drawings?”

The young woman looked up briefly from her task and smiled delightedly. “Hey, yeah, I recognize him.” She tapped the sketch Patrick had helped develop. “Can’t remember his name, but he complimented me on my tattoo.” She stopped to slip her lightweight cardigan down her arm a bit to bare a shoulder emblazoned with an intricately detailed butterfly. “I just got this because it was pretty, but he told me all about it, like the real scientific name, but I can’t remember that. He said it was… Let me think.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “He called it a Luzon Peacock Swallowtail.” She pronounced the name carefully. “Said it was from the Philippines. We had a nice long talk about it. It’s endangered, you know.”

Ethan stilled. “What day would that have been?”

“Um…Saturday? Or Sunday, maybe. I told him he sure seemed to know a lot about butterflies and sort of teased him that maybe he should get a tattoo, too. But he said he liked dragonflies better.”

* * *

“Robert Merkel.”

Ethan sat back in his chair, stunned elation filling him. They’d gone back to the RCMP building in Halifax and inputted the drivers’ license numbers from the rental agency into the DMV site, which in turn emailed copies of the corresponding licenses. The copy of the photo ID he’d printed out was eerily close to the second sketch of the offender, with gray hair and a mustache.

“License is phony,” Ian said as he and Jonah crowded around to look at the sheet. “Seventy years old? No way a septuagenarian is hauling dead bodies through forests and down embankments.”

“Septuagenarian?” Jonah Bannon chuckled. “You’ve been doing those Word-a-Day challenges again?”

“I know words.” Ian sounded offended. “And a Bridgewater, Nova Scotia address? He’s struck as far away as British Columbia. Until his most recent spree, he’s never been this far east before.”

“Even a phony name might leave a trail,” Alexa said. She was trying to mask her excitement at the development, but she was all but bouncing in her chair next to Ethan. “And we have his matching credit card information.”

“We do indeed.” Ethan turned to Ian. “See if you can match the name to the ferry passenger manifest. We have lists from the days following the New Brunswick homicides.”

“Where are they?”

Ethan jerked a thumb at the corner of the room where the boxes of manifests had been stacked when they were returned by the Halifax PD. The other man looked at them resignedly before getting up to obey.

To Jonah, he said, “Send out a BOLO alert for the description we have of the offender’s rental car and plate number.” A BOLO would result in a much more targeted search than the stop-and-check for the white van.

The door to the room pushed open, and Nyle walked in. “All I have to say is, the CarsNow branch at the airport is the most disorganized…” He looked from face to the next. “You got him already?”

Ethan caught him up on the morning’s events and then added, “We need a warrant on Merkel’s financials. I’m especially interested in that credit card. He used it for the rental. He may have put the motel where he’s staying on it, as well.”

“If he went to dives and showed enough cash, he probably could have avoided using a card,” Nyle pointed out.

“We’ll soon find out.”

“What do you want me to do?” Alexa asked.

“Research,” Ethan told her. “We need to learn everything we can about Robert Merkel of Bridgewater.”

* * *

“Okay, the warrant on the Merkel credit card has been processed with the highest priority stamp, whatever that means.” The near-silence the group had been working in for the last hour and a half was splintered by Nyle’s return. Ethan noticed with amusement the man held a bakery box in his hand. The officer had a serious sweet tooth. Once they had this case solved, they might have to stage an intervention.

“It means the brass in Ottawa is getting personally involved in the process.” Which Ethan hoped was going to get them a rapid response.

“What’d you learn?” Nyle set the box on the table in the corner and as if on cue, Ian and Jonah got up and beelined for it.

“There’s no Robert Merkel listed on the ferry passenger manifests,” Ian McManus responded. He peered into the box and grabbed a napkin with which to make his selection. “Since the UNSUB also didn’t show up on the toll-road cameras, he probably used a different ID for the ferry.”

“The BOLO alert for the offender’s rental went province-wide.” Jonah Bannon nudged McManus aside and studied the contents of the bakery box intently. “It’s might just be a matter of time at this point. He could be spotted driving anywhere.”

Could be, Ethan thought grimly. But the alerts depended on manpower and location. If the offender stuck to back roads, his chances of being seen by a cop plummeted drastically. But the noose around the province was tightening. “The address of the Robert Merkel in Bridgewater matches that given on the rental agreement and the driver’s license.” Ethan rolled his shoulders, working the knots out of them before getting out of his chair to see if Nyle had brought any brownies.

“If you study that license photo closely, it appears that the offender used something on his face to make him look older. But he still doesn’t look seventy.” As if unwilling to join the fray at the table holding the baked goods, Alexa remained seated. “If, as we believe, he drove into the province, it would make sense to have a driver’s license name that’s in the system. If he got pulled over for any reason, the first thing the patrolman would do is run the license.”

With a tinge of satisfaction Ethan discovered there were, indeed brownies. He selected two and set one down in front of Alexa as he made his way back to his chair.

Her lips curved slightly. “Double fudge? You’ve got a good memory.”

His hand paused with the treat halfway to his mouth. The mental image swamped him, summoned by her words. It’d been his birthday, just a few weeks after they’d met, and when he’d joined her at the library after school, she’d surprised him with brownies from the local bakery. One had a candle on top.

If it’s not double fudge, it’s not worth eating. Make a wish, Ethan.

His wish, of course, had included her. She’d already taken up residence in his mind. His heart. With the strength of a seventeen-year-old’s single-minded passion, she’d been the focus of all his desires. As a teenager, he hadn’t had the experience to realize that sometimes getting exactly what he wanted could still end in heartbreak.

Shaken by the subconscious reminder, he continued to his seat. Redirected his attention. “The Bridgewater Merkel is a former minister of a church in town. Retired two years ago, a time that corresponds with his wife’s death. According to the local RCMP officers I spoke with there, he spends November through March in Naples, Florida where his brother lives.”

“Leaving his residence unoccupied.”

“Any kids?” Nyle asked.

“One son.” Alexa picked up the thread of conversation. “Carl Merkel. He’s hopped around the country a bit. Vancouver. Toronto. Quebec City. Most recently Calgary.” She paused to take a bite of the brownie in front of her. Chewed. “Interestingly enough, he works for West Transport.”

There was a moment of silence in the room. “The largest trucking company in the nation.” Nyle’s words weren’t a question.

Ethan could guess what the man was thinking. There’d been a time when the team had seriously considered that the UNSUB’s occupation took him to different parts of the country. A trucker. A salesman. With Alexa’s input, they’d laid to rest the theory that the victims had been chosen at random. But Carl Merkel’s job still gave him pause.

“Robert Merkel is currently in a local nursing home with a broken hip,” Ethan said. “He’s been recuperating there for over a month, according to the Bridgewater RCMP officer I spoke to. He had no social media accounts that we could find, but the brother in Florida often posts pictures of them together down there. And Merkel’s daughter-in-law has tweeted regular updates of her father-in-law’s progress in rehab. It’s possible the UNSUB could keep tabs him through those avenues to learn when the place would be empty.”

“According to one of the local RCMP officers, Merkel and his wife were foster parents for about fifteen years,” Alexa put in. “Who knows? Maybe the offender gets a fake ID to match whichever area he’s going to strike in. And if so, it’s not implausible he might choose someone he’s familiar with.”

“I’ve alerted police in Calgary, and they’ve paid a visit to the Carl Merkel’s home using a pretext excuse. According to his wife, he’s on his way to Winnipeg for a convention. With what we’ve discovered, I think Robert Merkel’s residence requires a closer look.” Bridgewater was just over an hour from Halifax. It was unlikely, but not out of the question that the UNSUB had used the Merkel address as his base of operations here. “The closest Emergency Response Team would come out of Halifax, so I’ve spoken to Captain Sedgewick about arranging that for us.” Ethan looked at his team soberly. “We’ll roll out with the tactical team in a couple of hours. Whether or not we find the offender in residence, if he’s been occupying the place, there will be evidence of that.”

“Friedrich is going to be so pissed he missed out on an ERT raid.” An unfamiliar smile flashed across Jonah’s normally sober expression. “Are Gagnon and Campbell updated?”

Ethan nodded. He’d spent most of the last hour on the phone updating the brass as their research progressed. “They’re on board with our plan.” But they’d have plenty of questions if the team came up empty-handed after the raid. The offender’s communications with Alexa had given them much-needed insight into the UNSUB. The longer he went without contacting her again, the more Ethan’s foreboding grew. It’d be damn difficult for the man to get out of the province right now. So, either he was plotting his next homicide, or he was planning another attempt to get close to Alexa.

Either way, Ethan had a feeling their time was running out.

* * *

Five hours later, Alexa was seated inside the ERT command vehicle. One of the team members sat in front of a screen, which showed a one-story older home, white with green trim. There was an attached single garage and what looked like a small shed in the backyard. The house was located a mile or so outside of town. The vehicle was parked well down the road.

“How are we able to see this?” she asked. They couldn’t see the house from the command post.

“Cameras with wireless playback capabilities are affixed to the tactical team members’ helmets,” the officer explained. “The video is fed to this computer. The screen will split for the different feeds coming in We can even loop in other law enforcement from remote locations if we need to.”

Alexa fell into silence once more. Ethan and his officers had huddled with the ERT commander for what had seemed like an eternity. Sitting here waiting allowed her too much time to think about what could go wrong. If the offender were inside, he could be armed. Not that he’d be any match for a tactical team, but he could get shots off before being eliminated as a threat. Someone could still get hurt.

That someone could be Ethan.

A sick tangle of nausea tightened in her stomach. He’d be at the tail end of the unit. Logic dictated that his risk would be minimal. It was a mistake to underestimate an UNSUB, but equally important not to endow him with superhuman qualities. He’d be outgunned by the tactical unit’s firepower.

But illogical or not, worry chased across her mind like frantic little ants. It’d be easy to dismiss it as the same concern she’d have for any of the men assembled outside.

Easy, but not honest.

Alexa had taken the optimistic stance that proximity to Ethan would lay to rest the ghosts from their pasts. She’d convinced herself she’d made the right decision to leave all those years ago. To allow him the life he’d always planned before duty and obligation had dictated another path. But working closely with him was chipping away at her long-held conviction and wreaking havoc on the emotional peace she’d finally achieved. And after their kiss, she’d started to fear that she wasn’t going to escape their second parting unscathed either.

In the next moment, the scene on screen exploded into action. The ERT unit members, swarmed across the street, into the yard, surrounding the house. The first member on the steps used a breaching device to knock the door off its hinges. Then the entry team members raced inside.

Alexa held her breath. It was eerie to see the interior of the strange home. The front room was empty. As was the kitchen. Shouts of “Clear!” were heard as other members covered the house. But to Alexa, it had a feeling of vacancy. As if waiting for its owner to return.

“The house and basement are empty,” the officer at the screen said several minutes later. “There’s a shed out back that still requires checking.”

The unit members inside the home were searching the rooms. She knew they’d be looking for anything that suggested recent occupancy. Evidence that the offender had been inside.

As she watched the screen intently, she was able to pick out Ethan even before he lifted the shield on his helmet. Something in his stance gave him away. It was his aura of command, she supposed. The slight swagger of youth had solidified into a projection of authority, which had been honed by experience.

“Shed outside is clear.”

The camera was back in the front room of the house. She saw now that there was a walker parked next to a recliner.

Alexa settled more comfortable on her stool while the team members conducted their examination of the premises. Their movements were methodical, but no longer urgent. Ethan turned when another team member called to him. Followed the other man. Alexa’s mind drifted to the offender. What did his sudden silence signify? Had he selected Robert Merkel at random, or was there a connection there?

The UNSUB had the technical skills to wander in and out of people’s online lives, she mused as she watched team members tipping over furniture and going through drawers, cupboards and shelves. That could have been how the offender settled on Merkel in Bridgewater for his false ID.

But there could also be a more personal link. And it was that possibility that had Alexa hoping to speak to the real Robert Merkel in person.

* * *

Alexa stood in a cluster with Nyle, Jonah and Ian outside the vehicle as the ERT team members filed out of the residence. The front door hung out of kilter, useless. It would have to be boarded up, along with any other entry points that had been used.

Ethan stood a distance away, consulting with the ERT commander and an RCMP officer from the local detachment. If he was disappointed by the results of the raid, it didn’t show on his impassive expression.

“Too much to ask for that the UNSUB would be sitting in there on his computer, screwing up someone else’s life while the team burst in on him,” Ian said glumly, smoothing a hand down his garish tie. “Didn’t expect it, but it’d sure be nice to catch a break in this case.”

“We still have all the exits from the country blocked.” Alexa rubbed the small of her back. The stool she’d been perched on for the last couple of hours hadn’t been the epitome of comfort. “The ferry and Coast Guard have been alerted and have his pictures. As have the airlines, trains, cruise ships…”

“…but if he gets as far as the toll road to New Brunswick, picking up his image on the camera after the fact won’t do us much good,” Ian countered. “We have to count on the vehicle being recognized and pulled over before he gets that far.”

“What if this is his home province?” Jonah Bannon’s question hung in the air between them. “He could go back to his house. Abandon the rental, hide the van and no one would know the difference.”

“Except for the release of the sketches.” The UNSUB knew they had the drawings because they’d been made public. But he wouldn’t know the team had one of his fake identities, and the makes of the vehicles he was driving. That, Alexa mused, could lead him to believe he could safely leave the province while leading him right into a trap.

“What’s to say he doesn’t just abandon the car and the Econoline, don a disguise to match yet another ID and take a bus? A train or airplane?” Nyle was slowly scrolling through his emails on his cell. “Let’s face it. Witnesses haven’t been great at IDing this guy. No reason to think ticket agents would be any better.”

“I don’t think he’ll leave the van behind if he can avoid it.” Alexa didn’t go into the reasoning that she’d shared with Ethan earlier that day. She almost wished she could believe that the UNSUB would leave the province soon. But there was some instinct much more primitive than logic that told her he wasn’t done here.

“Well, all is not lost.” Nyle sounded a bit more cheerful as he looked up from his cell. “Someone at the top must have pulled some strings, because I’ve already got the records for the credit card statement in Merkel’s name.” He was silent for a moment as he looked it over. “The user signed up for online-only statements. It looks like payments were made that way, too.” He shook his head in bemusement. “That’s one way to keep the person at that address unaware that another card has been taken out in his name.”

Alexa frowned. “I don’t understand. The cards would still be delivered to Merkel’s address.”

Nyle wagged a finger at her. “You’re not thinking deviously enough. Merkel’s name and address were listed on the phony license. But while the name matched on the credit card, the address given to the credit card company doesn’t. It’s still in Nova Scotia…” He paused while he tapped in a search. After a few moments, he said, “The address given on the credit card information doesn’t show up in a search. So, he likely used a mail forwarding service.”

“Which would send his mail to the address of his choice, while shielding his location,” she said slowly.

“And,” Ian added, “tracking down mail forwarding services is almost impossible.”

“But you still have the transactions, right?” Jonah went to Nyle’s side and peered down at his screen. “Where’d he use the credit card most recently, aside from the car rental agency?”

Nyle scanned the statement. “Only two transactions. Gas stations.” His mouth flattened. “Both in New Brunswick. One in Edmonton and the other in Fredericton.” The three men looked at each other. “Where the two victims there were from.” Jonah peered over Nyle’s shoulder. “What are the dates for those… Shit.”

“Edmonton date is two days before Henry Paulus left for his backpacking trip. The Fredericton date is the day before Albert Norton disappeared.” McManus picked up his cell and started texting. “Steve can check the gas station security cameras. Lots of times those places reuse the tapes after a week or so, but you never know.”

Ethan strode over. “The ERT team found a few clothes in one of the bedrooms that appear to belong to a male. Different size than those in the master bedroom. One of the T-shirts is from Fundy National Park.” He smiled grimly when Jonah’s brows shot up. “A couple of local RCMP officers will accompany us to Merkel’s nursing home. I’m anxious to talk to this guy myself.”