Then Alex had abruptly straightened and taken a hard look at the group home over his shoulder. Darrin had darted one step to the right, hiding behind the curtain. Had Kinton seen him staring? Kinton’s gaze had slid to the gate to the backyard and pool of the house next door and his shoulders sagged. With a rough yank, he’d opened his truck door, climbed in, and left.

Darrin had exhaled, suddenly exhausted.

Alex Kinton had just led him on a roller coaster of adrenaline that rivaled Space Mountain. No, better than that. Faster, higher. And Darrin wanted another ride.

He’d figured surely Alex would be back soon.

Instead, Alex had returned and snatched Darrin’s discarded cigarette butt for DNA.

Darrin hadn’t left any DNA with Samuel or Rosa. But he had with Kimberly Brock, Susan Mannon, Claire Hines, and others. He’d known it was virtually impossible to avoid leaving DNA behind. He tried his best. He’d always figured the best way to protect himself was not let himself be tested, therefore avoiding any connections. Thanks to a computer database and a cigarette, suddenly he’d been linked to several of his victims.

So simple. He’d been brought down by evidence any CSI television show addict could have spotted. How had he been so stupid? Twenty years he’d slipped away from the police and then was brought down by something so trivial.

Him and Al Capone.

The day Darrin had been arrested had started like any other normal day. Until the swarm of police that showed up before breakfast. Alex had been there. Silent and watching. Staying back out of the cops’ way under the tree by the driveway.

Darrin had winked at Alex as the police pulled him down the driveway in handcuffs.

At least Alex had visited him in prison. It’d been Darrin’s idea. He’d reached out to the marshal, hinted that meeting with him in prison could be of benefit to other victims’ families. Alex had come, probably hoping that one day Darrin would confess to killing Samuel. Thanks to modern technology, he’d been linked to a lot of his crimes. But there’d been others the police didn’t know about. To keep Alex coming back he’d given names, dates, and locations, which Alex passed on to detectives. But never more than one tidbit a visit.

Alex had hounded Darrin, who soaked up every minute of it, getting off on the agent’s ragged grief and anger. In a way Darrin became Alex’s private therapist. Darrin wanted to know what made Alex tick. So he’d made Alex speak, telling Darrin about every shitty thing in his life in exchange for facts on Darrin’s victims. Now Darrin knew how it hurt to grow up with a retarded brother. Darrin knew about the selfish wife who made Alex choose between her and his brother. Darrin knew all too well about Alex’s asshole of a boss.

Quid pro quo.

He’d visit every few months. Sometimes every month. Each visit he seemed thinner and paler than the last. Like something was eating him from the inside out.

Alex had only crumbs of information to show for all the meat he’d sliced off his psyche and handed to Darrin. Alex’s visiting days were Darrin’s best prison days. He’d live for weeks off the buzz from being in the man’s potent presence.

Darrin rubbed his gloved hands together, annoyed with the bitter cold. It had been several months since he’d last seen Alex, and it’d made him irritable. Even with his pending escape, Darrin had been short-tempered. He’d known he’d have to give up the visits from Alex once he entered his new world in Mexico with a different identity, but that glorious future hadn’t kept away his irritation about permanently severing the bond with Alex.

There was some freaky compulsion that had pushed the two of them together. One angry man searching for answers and one empty man searching for emotion.

Brynn was past tears. Her face had dried as she dug, and she ignored the other men. She didn’t miss their furtive glances at her and at each other. She knew exactly what was on their minds.

How long do we dig?

She glanced at her watch. It’d been about twenty minutes since they’d started to dig. That wasn’t too bad. Surely Alex had ended up with some sort of oxygen cushion. He might still be breathing. I won’t give up, I won’t give up. She got a small burst of energy and bit her lip as she pushed her frozen hands deeper into the snow. Ryan rested on his knees and breathed hard.

“Take a break. You’re not a hundred percent,” Jim ordered.

“Just for a second.” He was out of breath and looked paler than Brynn liked. She figured she looked pale too. Every member of the team had shadows under their eyes.

Thomas paused and leaned on the shovel. “Maybe we should look somewhere else.”

“Where?” snapped Brynn. “You pointed here. You got another spot where you think you saw something?”

Thomas shook his head. “I’m just sayin’.”

“Well, unless you saw something, I vote we stay with this spot. There was a reason you led us here. Don’t start doubting yourself.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Skepticism and uncertainty swept Thomas’s face and he dropped his gaze. She’d put too much pressure on him. Now he’d feel responsible if they didn’t find Alex.

“No one else saw anything. This is our best spot,” she amended.

Thomas nodded without looking at her and started to shovel.

“Wait. Did you hear that?” Ryan held his hands out for silence.

Everyone froze and strained their ears. Brynn closed her eyes and heard silence.

“I don’t hear anything.” Jim’s gaze was searching in all directions. “What’d it sound like?”