Page 96 of Lost and Found

“Maybe eight, nine, and ten weren’t in New York either,” she added in a low voice.

Wes and Dean nodded as if they had had the same thought.

Dean shuffled papers onto the table. “I did some research. This will show you what’s known about serial offenders with split methodology. It tends to correlate with split personality-type mental disorders. But there’s not much. It doesn’t happen all that often.”

“That person would have to be very sick,” she said.

Dean nodded. “And incredibly well organized, that is, if the cases are related, which I am absolutely not suggesting they are. Coincidence does not equal causation,” he repeated. “Simply another avenue to consider.”

“Thanks.” Wes squared the papers in a neat pile. “You said there were two things?”

Dean was balancing on two chair legs. He dropped to all fours and let out a breath. “Wes and I have been discussing Ryan’s car accident.”

Her stomach churned. “Why?”

“We were spitballing ideas about the similarities between the two stolen credit cards.”

She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“I want you to look at this video.” Dean tapped his cell phone and held it out so they could see the screen. “This is the minivan that was following you.”

He pressed play. Cars zoomed by, tracked by an overhead traffic camera. The short clip looped again. She didn’t see anything. “A bunch of cars driving down 66?”

Dean nodded and tapped on his phone again. “Angus and Kimbra Cosgrove spared no expense when Ryan died. They wanted to find the driver and hired private investigators.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“This isn’t the accident, but I have footage of the car that hit him. You don’t have to look at it if you don’t want to, but…if you can, I’d like you to.”

Nausea burned the back of her throat. “I want to see.”

Dean tapped the screen again. “See if you catch anything.”

Two short clips looped. The first was caught on someone’s doorbell camera on a residential street. The other came from a shopping center security camera.

Wes inhaled sharply. His chin jerked up.

“Wait,” she said. “What? I didn’t see anything.”

The two clips continued to loop.

“You see it?” Dean asked Wes.

He nodded.

She scrutinized the video. “I don’t.”

“Watch the brake lights,” Wes said.

She leaned closer and watched the brake lights. “The brakes were tapped?”

Dean switched to the first video. The minivan braked as well.

She looked between the two men. “That’s significant?”

“Each time the vehicles slow down, the brakes tap twice. It’s distinct. A habit.”

Bailey pressed her hands flat on the table. Her pulse raced in her ears. “Are you trying to tell me that the person who followed us to New Jersey, who was in my hotel room, was the same person who ran Ryan off the road and killed him?”