Page 35 of Trap ’N’ Trace

He winked. “You’re learning.”

Paulson picked up a document. “We’re running every print the tech guys pulled from the Garman and Thorpe homicides.”

“The DNA results will take a while,” Dayne said absently, noting the stiffness in Kat’s back as she spoke on her cell phone. “What lab has Becca’s cell?”

“The Rockland County Sheriff’s Office.” Paulson glanced at a chain of custody form. “Their computer crime unit does forensic analysis for just about every department in the county.”

Dayne hoped they were as capable as the FBI lab. He didn’t dare voice the thought and risk falling to the rock-bottom position on Paulson’s shit list. Still… “Make sure they download all the addresses in her GPS app. It might help us trace her movements right before she died.”

He took a deep breath to steady himself. Getting wrapped up in the world of Katrina Vandenburg had kept him so busy, he hadn’t had time to fully process that Becca was really gone.

“Will do.” Paulson made a note on a pad, and Dayne was gratified to see the words “To Do” at the top. The guy might not like him, but he seemed motivated, and that was all that mattered.

He focused on the chains of custody and the list of evidence the department had collected at both crime scenes, including more than a dozen boxes of case files. “Did you get the subpoena for Becca’s phone?”

The detective pursed his lips, arching a brow as he held up a piece of paper with the words Grand Jury Subpoena in large bold letters.

“Yeah.” Dayne took the subpoena, giving it a quick once-over. “Sorry.” He really needed to stop second-guessing the guy. He handed the document back then reread the chains of custody. “You took a lot of case files. Need help looking through them?”

“Actually, yeah.” Paulson nodded.

Dayne cued up his ASAC’s number on his own cell phone. Seconds later, his boss answered.

“So, Dayne…what’s it like guarding the richest woman in the state?” Lydia Barstow, the Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge of the FBI’s Newark office, asked.

One of the detectives had given Kat a bottle of water and was now sporting a grin so broad the guy reminded Dayne of a kid talking to the prettiest girl in school. The other detective joined in and perched on the edge of the desk. Kat held out her hand and Dayne thought the guy was going to kiss it. She said something he couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, the guy blushed. It was like watching a queen hold court, and her minions were eating up every word.

Teenage boy or grown man, if they had blood flowing through their veins, they’d be drawn to her like iron to a magnet.

Goddammit. He could lie to himself until he was blue in the face. That flare of irritation in his gut was none other than good old-fashioned jealousy.

“Dayne, you still there?” came Lydia’s voice.

“Yeah. The Orangetown PD took all of Becca’s case files from her office. Can you assign some agents to review them at the PD?”

“I’ll send two agents right over.”

Dayne rattled off the address. “Anything on Becca’s arrestees?” Statistically, ex-cons seeking revenge did it within days of being released, and it was usually violent, fitting the MO of a stabbing.

Becca had been a hard-hitting agent, racking up a fuck ton of arrests on the west coast before transferring to the Newark office. She’d put some violent people behind bars. There was always the possibility that one of them had been sitting in a jail cell, seething until the day he—or she, for that matter—could exact revenge.

“One name popped up on the list. Kelso Donnelly. You know him?”

“Yeah.” He frowned, remembering the case he’d worked on with Becca. Kelso Donnelly had thrown a conniption when he’d been sentenced to ten years in federal lockup.

Donnelly was a beast of a man. At six-two and weighing in at about three-fifty, he was intimidating as hell. Added to that was the twisted mind of a pedophile. If they hadn’t caught up with him before he’d left the country with eight-year-old Melinda White… Dayne’s stomach roiled at the thought of what would have been that little girl’s fate.

“Where is he?” Dayne asked.

“That’s the problem,” Lydia continued. “He was released two weeks ago, but no one’s seen him. Not his family, his ex-wife, or anyone who knew him. He’s from Pennsylvania, and I have two teams out there now trying to find him.”

Donnelly definitely fit the profile, and now he was on the loose. But the guy looked nothing like the digital sketch Kat and Jim had come up with. Then again, a decade in prison could change a man. Inside and out.

“Can you email me his rap sheet and a recent photo? I want to share them with the PD.”

“Already did.”

On cue, his cell phone pinged. “Thanks, Lydia.” He ended the call and forwarded Donnelly’s criminal history and color photo to Paulson’s email. “Two agents are on their way to read through Becca’s case files. I just sent you a rap sheet. Becca and I arrested this guy ten years ago. She was the case agent, and he swore he’d come after her the second he got released.”