“You must have something else to say to me.” Redding had an organized killer’s capacity for patience-but only on his own terms, not on mine. This is me, taking the bait.Įventually, Redding broke the silence. You’re the one who wanted me to come back here. I folded my hands on the table and waited. “It does sound like something I might have mentioned, but…” He lifted his shoulders in an elaborate shrug. “Did I say that?” Redding asked with a slow and subtle smile. That was what Redding had done months ago when he’d dropped that bombshell about my mother. You’ll try to burrow into my mind, to plant questions and doubts so that when I walk out of this room, a part of you goes with me. I knew this particular psychopath well enough to know that he would try to get a rise out of me. “You told me once that I would never find the man who killed my mother,” I said, sounding calmer than I felt.
But that wasn’t what had brought me here today. That was how Redding had killed his victims. The man in front of me was one of the world’s most brutal serial killers, and if I let him past my defenses, he would burn his mark into my soul as surely as he’d branded the letter R onto the flesh of his victims.īind them. It didn’t matter that there was an armed FBI agent at the door. It didn’t matter that Daniel Redding’s hands were cuffed together and chained to the table. I sank deeper and deeper into Redding’s psychopathic perspective. I knew that, had known it even before coming to this maximum security prison and seeing the subtle smile that crossed Daniel Redding’s lips the moment his gaze met mine. Giving in to the urge to profile, I continued to appraise the man across from me. But the glint in those eyes, the light of anticipation-that’s wholly your own.Įxperience-and my FBI mentors-had taught me that I could delve further into other people’s minds by talking to them than by talking about them. The serial killer sitting across from me had his son’s eyes.
And at the center of all of it-all of it-is you. So it has been decreed, and so it must be. For William, who helped Mommy copyedit this book when he was just five weeks old.
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