Chapter 50
CHAPTER
FIFTY
The room felt smaller than it had an hour ago.
Everyone was still crammed into Mariella’s hotel suite. They’d ordered pizza, and now half-empty boxes, laden with grease, sat on the coffee table. The smell of pepperoni and melted cheese mixed with coffee that had gone cold. No one was really eating anymore.
Duke leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, listening as the team talked through what they knew and what they didn’t.
Kate had disappeared. Most likely, the next victim.
That truth sat heavy in his chest.
“We need to stop thinking about this emotionally.” Duke’s voice cut through the room, calm but firm. “We need to think like him.”
Everyone looked at him.
“This is what we know,” he continued. “Jen was left in a secluded cabin. Alone. There were no witnesses to her abduction. The killer didn’t need to stay nearby. He just needed to stay long enough to make sure the game played out the way he wanted.”
Andi’s gaze sharpened. “You think he did the same with Gina?”
“I think he always does the same thing.” Duke pushed off the wall and stepped closer to the table. “He abducts his victims in one city, plays his game, and when he’s done he leaves and moves on.”
Matthew nodded slowly. “Which means he’s not improvising.”
“No,” Duke agreed. “He’s planned each step down to every last detail. He probably has his next victim in sight.”
The words settled over the group.
“He knows where he’s going next before we do,” Duke continued. “He’s always one step ahead.”
Andi exhaled. “So when we show up . . . we’re already behind.”
“Yes,” Duke said. “And he likes it that way.”
Silence followed, broken only by the hum of the air conditioner.
“And Las Vegas?” Ranger asked. “If we’re right, that’s where he’ll be preparing his next move.”
Duke nodded. “If he follows the same pattern.”
Andi’s fingers tightened around her cup. “Which means by the time we get there—”
“He’s already finished setting the board,” Duke finished, his stomach churning.
Silence stretched a moment.
Then an idea hit Duke. “What if we mix things up and throw this guy off his game?”
“What do you mean?” Andi asked.
“What if we add a stop? Something unannounced. Something not on the tour schedule. We force him to react instead of control.”
Ranger’s eyes lit with interest. “Throw off his timing.”
“Break his rhythm,” Simmy said.
Duke looked at Andi. “He’s meticulous. Organized. He needs predictability. If we take that away . . .”
Andi didn’t answer right away. But the way she met his gaze told him she was already thinking three steps ahead.
For the first time that night, Duke felt the faintest shift in momentum.
Maybe they weren’t as powerless as it seemed.
Andi knew that Duke was right.
This man wasn’t chaotic or impulsive.
He was obsessively organized and focused.
And for some reason, part of that focus was on Andi and her team.
But Duke’s idea was intriguing.
Every new city where this man struck meant new logistics. A place to keep a woman hidden. A place to play his game. A place to leave her behind.
That kind of operation required time.
It required paying attention to every detail.
If Andi and her team added a stop—just one—something unexpected, something not advertised . . .
It would rattle this guy.
It would show him that he wasn’t the only one who could move the pieces.
“He needs predictability,” Andi said. “And right now, our tour is giving it to him. Cities, dates, venues—all public. Easy to track.”
“So we stop being predictable,” Matthew said.
Mariella leaned forward. “I can talk to Rupert. He can help us.”
Everyone blinked at her.
“I’m serious,” she said. “I know he seems like a control freak—well, he is a control freak—but he’s not a bad guy. He’ll help us. I’ll sell the idea to him as an opportunity for bonus engagement.”
“I think you should see if you can get him on board,” Andi agreed. “He has the connections to make this work—but we also need to keep it quiet. We also need him not to freak out.”
Mariella smiled. “If someone is hurting women and trying to frame us for it? Rupert can survive a scheduling migraine.”
“Meanwhile, we keep pulling threads,” Ranger said. “Fake Pam. The rival podcast. The pattern.”
Andi looked around at them—her team. Tired. Stressed. Still standing.
Their careers were at risk. Their reputations. Maybe even their freedom.
But if Duke was right—and she believed he was—then this was the first real chance they had to disrupt the game.
Not by chasing the killer.
But by forcing him to react.
And Andi had the distinct feeling that once that happened . . .
Everything would change.