Page 33 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“Only for a moment. He was wearing a mask that I pulled up for a few seconds. It was short, but not crew cut.”

“Color?”

“Brown.”

“Eyebrows. Were they thick or thin? Arched or straight?”

“Brown. No, maybe black. I’m not sure.” She tapped her finger on the desk as the image began drifting away.

Jim took over and quickly added some features. “Eye color?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she struggled to recall his face. A shudder ran through her as she remembered his hands wrapped around her throat, cutting off her airway.

“Easy.” Gentle hands rested on her shoulders, and she flinched. “You’re safe here.” She released a tight breath. For such a big man, Dayne moved with the stealth and silence of a cougar. “Keep your eyes closed and try to remember.”

She might be having difficulty remembering the man who tried to end her life, but she distinctly recalled Dayne’s familiar touch from last night while he’d been inspecting her injuries.

Warm breath skimmed across her ear as he leaned down to view the screen. She trembled again, not from fear this time. All Dayne had to do was stand behind her, and her nerve endings went haywire. “Think back to last night and tell me what you saw.”

With his big hands keeping her grounded, she let herself drift back to that awful moment. Her attacker’s eyes were indeed brown but with a glint of deadly intent she would never forget. “Brown eyes. Dark brown hair. Straight brows.”

“That’s it.” His low, soothing voice kept her in the moment. “What else do you see?”

“A beard and a mustache. Not thick and bushy. Trimmed neat and close to his face.” Still keeping her eyes closed, she heard Jim’s movements as he adjusted the image on his laptop. “His nose was a bit rounded on the bottom, but not too much. His lips were pressed together, so it’s hard to know if they were really that thin. His chin was slightly pointed, but not too much and definitely not a cleft chin.”

“Open your eyes,” Dayne said. “Does that look like him?”

She twisted her lips. “Almost. There was more space between his eyebrows and eyes.”

Using his thumb and forefinger on the screen, Jim adjusted the space.

“His nose was a little longer.” She waited for Jim to make more adjustments. When he finished, a chill crept up her spine. The likeness was so startling she could barely breathe.

Because she was staring at the face of the man who’d tried to kill her.

Chapter Ten

“Is that him?” Dayne asked. Kat didn’t look at him, didn’t utter a word. Her body was as unmoving as a marble statue. “Kat?”

Slowly, she nodded, the movement almost imperceptible. “Yes,” she whispered. “I think so.”

The image depicted a man so generic there was nothing about him that would ever stand out in a crowd. On a scale of one to ten the chances of getting a definitive hit off facial recognition were about zilch because he’d look like half the men in every database. They’d get way too many hits to follow up on.

“Good job.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. To Jim he said, “Can you send the image to me and Detective Paulson?”

Paulson rattled off his department email.

“You got it.” Jim clicked the mouse to save the image.

“Make sure you copy ASAC Barstow and SAC Peters,” Dayne added. “I’ll call them in a minute to have someone run it through NGI.” The FBI’s Next Generation Identification System and many states’ DMVs now used state-of-the-art facial recognition technology. It was a long shot, but still worth a try.

“I’ll print out some color copies and distribute them to everyone in the department. I can also put out a county-wide alert.” Paulson headed back to his desk. A minute later, the printer on a nearby credenza began spewing out copies. The detective retrieved the sheets, handing one to Dayne and one to Kat.

“What is it?” he asked, when she frowned at the image.

“Something about the eyes still isn’t right. They were cloudy.”

“In what way?”