“Christ, you’re right. Someone he saw regularly, had a connection to, a relationship with. Enough to stick in his twisted brain. She’ll be married, and upper middle class at least. Start with mothers. We’ll work down the list of possible others. Look for any sort of complaint—even juvie. Dig in, maybe his parents sent him to therapy or rehab. Work the levels.
“Peabody, divvy it up so we’re not stepping on each other’s feet. He could be a little taller or a little shorter,” she considered. “Make it five-seven to five-ten. Let’s not let him slip through because we restricted too much.”
She glanced at her wrist unit. “I want to take another pass at Daphne Strazza. Send my list to my home office, Peabody. Anybody gives even the shortest buzz, contact me. Any questions, any new avenues to try, the same. That’s ’round the clock.”
She headed out, walking briskly toward the bullpen. She’d grab her coat, get to the hospital, maybe pull something else out of Daphne, then head home, drop straight into the work.
She should check and see if Roarke—
Her brain took a detour when she saw Rosa Patrick and Kyle Knightly step off the elevator.
“Mrs. Patrick, Mr. Knightly.”
“Oh, thank God! You’re right here.” Rosa all but launched herself at Eve. “He sent me a text, with a picture from … Oh God.”
“Hold on, Rosie.” Kyle wrapped an arm around her waist as he looked at Eve. “Is there a place we can sit down? She really needs to sit down.”
“Come this way.” She considered the lounge, but Interview A wasn’t in use, and was closer. More private.
She showed them in. “Have a seat. Tell me what happened.”
“My ’link. I answered my ’link, and— Here.” She dragged it out of her purse, shoved it toward Eve.
“Here.” Kyle took it, gently pressed Rosa’s thumb to the security pad. “I’ll bring it up, okay?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
He called up a text, handed the ’link to Eve.
An image of Rosa, bound, naked, unconscious on tangled sheets, came on screen. Above it, the text read:
Wasn’t that fun? The best you ever had. Let’s do it again!
Eve read the time sent: thirty-five minutes earlier.
“You can trace it.” Rosa clutched her hands together, knuckles white as she pressed them between her breasts. “You can do that. Can you do that? Please. You can find him.”
“Give me a second.” Eve rose, stepped away from the table, tagged McNab.
“McNab, e-whiz.”
“Interview A. Now.”
“I’m there.”
Eve came back, sat across from Rosa. “Is this the first communication you’ve received like this?”
“Yes.”
“Think back. Before the assault did you receive any kind of communication from anyone that was suggestive, overt, threatening?”
“No. I swear. Why would he do this now? Why? It’s been months.”
“He got stupid, that’s why.” Kyle gripped her shoulder. “They’ll trace that text, Rosa.”
“The picture. He—he recorded … It’s like it’s happening again.”
“Mrs. Patrick, where’s your husband?”
“He’s on his way. He was uptown, in meetings, but he’s coming.”
“Where were you when you received this text?”
“We were—we were in the West Village.”
“We’re doing a location shoot there next week,” Kyle explained. “I wanted to take another look, walk the streets we’re using. I asked Rosa to come along, give me her perspective.”
“He wanted to give me something to do. I have a hard time getting out, alone. Staying home, alone.”
“You’re doing better.”
Rosa managed a smile at Kyle. “I was. I will. But … Kyle convinced me to go downtown with him and the assistant director. I was enjoying it. It took my mind off everything, and then this happened.”
“You, Mr. Knightly, and—”
“Karyn Peeks,” Kyle supplied. “The AD on the shoot. We were standing on—God, I think it was Charles.” He rubbed his forehead. “Mind’s a little scrambled. Karyn and I were discussing some angles, and Rosa answered her ’link. She went white, absolutely white. She nearly dropped the ’link. I caught it, and I saw…”
“I wanted to run. I don’t even know where, just run. Kyle said we needed to bring it to you, right away. To bring it to you, and you’d trace the transmission.”
“That was the right thing to do.”
McNab knocked briskly even as he opened the door.
“This is Detective McNab, with EDD. I need your permission to give him your ’link.”
“Yes, yes. I don’t care if I ever see it again.”
“Give me a second.” Eve stepped out with McNab. “Incoming text with image, came in about thirty-five minutes ago. Get me all you can, fast as you can.”
“Done. I can do this in your office if that’s okay. Save time.”
“Save time.”
She went back in. “He’s one of the best,” she told them, “I want to reassure you. I’ve just come from briefing a team of detectives working on the investigation. It’s my top priority, and theirs.”
“Do you have any leads?” Kyle lifted his hands. “Everyone asks that, but there’s a reason they do.”