“Why would Collins give us so much information?” Brantley grabbed his water bottle from the cup holder. “He basically told us we only had a few days to find them. If his brother is responsible, was that a warning?”
“Maybe he’s tired of coverin’ it up?”
“Or he’s taunting us,” Brantley muttered.
“You don’t think it’s the brother?”
Brantley glanced over, the whites of his eyes bright in the dark vehicle. “I don’t.”
“The detective then?”
“Yeah. I had that same itch when we talked to him, but it’s the details he provided that make me think he’s fascinated with these women. More so than worried. He’s focused on their appearances, not their backgrounds. He refers to them by their first name. Like he knows them. And while he’s the detective on the case, he insinuates himself into the case by pretending to be someone else. Why is that? That’s the part I just don’t get.”
“He wouldn’t need to dig into her background or get her history,” Reese said. “He already knows everything about her. If he’s the one who took her, it could be he pretended to be the officer because he’s worried someone saw him. Figures keepin’ a low profile in the area is the best for the time being.”
“Or they’re workin’ together,” Brantley mused.
Reese glanced behind them when headlights bounced off the interior of the vehicle.
Neither of them spoke as it approached and then passed, brake lights flashing as it turned into a driveway.
“That’s Collins,” Brantley noted.
They watched as the detective got out of his police-issued vehicle. He carried a couple of bags—looked to be fast food—and two Styrofoam cups. He didn’t look around as he bounded up the three front steps. Not a care in the world. Screen door opened, then the door, and he slipped inside, disappearing when the door closed behind him.
“Looks like dinner for two. Means the brother’s probably in there.”
Reese had to think it was possible Brantley was right.
Brantley’s cell phone rang, shocking the silence in the SUV.
“Hey, Trey,” Brantley greeted after hitting the button to take the call.
“How’s it goin’? Learn anything?”
“Not yet.” Brantley went on to explain how uneventful their stakeout was.
“I was wonderin’ how Collins managed to catch all these cases with so many other dicks in the department.”
Reese laughed. “By dicks, you’re referrin’ to detectives?”
“Take it how you wanna take it,” Trey said with a laugh.
Brantley clearly wasn’t enjoying the conversation. “What’d you find, Trey?”
“Whether by coincidence or intention, he’s always on scene first,” Trey noted. “At least in the three other cases we know about. Even when they called someone else in, Collins was there. He’s made a name for himself in this department as the guy who tackles the cases that involve little to no reason for disappearance.”
“Not a coincidence.”
“Definitely not. And it makes sense,” Reese told them. “He keeps the details to a minimum, probably blames it on a lack of information available. No similarities between the victims, nothing to tie them together except for the cell phones, which is why I don’t think it’s him. If he was the one snatchin’ these women, why leave behind something to taunt the police with? Collins would simply have them vanish so he could back the theory they’re not related. Just unfortunate random acts.”
Trey’s voice came through the speaker again. “Agreed. So I looked back at the crime scenes he worked at his previous precinct. When he was on a beat. Same deal there. Always the first on the scene, then keepin’ himself in the investigation by sharin’ as much information as possible with the detective assigned.”
“I assume that’s why he aimed high, got promoted to detective. He could manage them from a different angle, not chance someone finding out about his brother,” Reese said.
Brantley grunted, something that sounded like agreement. “Probably easier when he was assigned to a sector. He knew how to time it.”
“Exactly. But it’s the women from those old cases who caught my attention,” Trey said. “They disappeared at roughly the same times as the current set. All in groups of four over the period of a year.”
“Somethin’ catch your eye on the dates?” Reese asked.
“Yes. The months of their disappearance change, but they’re always taken on the seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth of the month. In that order. Those happen to be the days of the month the first four women were born, too.”
“He memorializing them?”
“Maybe. And the first woman’s body did turn up three hundred and forty-seven days after her disappearance. Every woman since has been the same.”
“OCD, perhaps? Not a memorial, a ritual?” Brantley theorized.
“Could be, sure.”
“And no one tied that together before?” Reese asked, looking over at Brantley.
“How could they? You’ve got the man responsible for their disappearances, and possibly their deaths, handling the cases.” Brantley directed his voice to the speaker. “Did he stay involved in the first cases?”
