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He asked the computer expert, “What kind of vehicle is the plate registered to?”

Eyes on the screen, she reported, “A 2007 Chevy Tahoe.”

“Which,” Harrow said, “doesn’t look remotely like an F-150.”

Pall said, “He switched again.”

This news draped the mobile lab in glum silence. They all knew, too well, that the other license plate switches had led exactly nowhere.

Oh, in each case a trail had been left for the team to follow, but in the long run these searches had revealed no ties to the actual crimes.

This one, however, felt different.

Harrow said, “Certainly this being the sheriff’s vehicle can’t be a random occurrence. Must be a vehicle of choice.”

Pall said, “None of the other license plates appear to’ve been chosen for a particular reason.”

Anderson chimed in: “Just from cars registered to folks who lived along the trail.”

“A trail,” Pall pointed out, “that the killer wanted us to follow.”

Laurene said, “Think about it — nothing this guy does is random.”

“Right,” Pall said. “He’s a planner, a schemer. All the other plates belong to people who couldn’t possibly be our suspect.”

“Then in that respect,” Harrow said, “none were random choices. The killer has wanted us on his trail, wanted us to keep coming, and not get bogged down in the red herrings the license plates might provide. Why?”

Laurene said, “With just a little study, the killer could have picked license plates belonging to people who might’ve served as reasonable suspects, if only for a few hours.”

“Right,” Harrow said. “Still, in this instance, when he had the chance to throw us off the track, to cover his scent? What did he do?”

Pall said, “Just the opposite.”

That made Harrow very wary of what awaited them at the end of this road. And now that the killer almost certainly had Carmen, Harrow’s worry deepened.

“Shouldn’t we call the Smith County sheriff?” Laurene asked. “This Gibbons? And let him know we’re on our way?”

Harrow considered. If the killer had chosen to switch plates with the sheriff on purpose, there had to be a reason for it. The unsub would also have to assume that Harrow and the team would be talking to Gibbons ASAP, if only to rule him out as a suspect.

“No,” Harrow said, firm. “Let’s roll into town unannounced and play it by ear.”

Laurene frowned. “Why?”

Harrow explained his reasoning.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Choi said. “We’ve been eating this bastard’s dust for too long.”

Pall agreed: “Might not be much, but it could just be something our guy doesn’t expect.”

Anything would help at this point,” Anderson said. “He’s been leading us around the whole darn time.”

Choi glared at the blond. “Could you goddamn it curse once in a while? You’re driving me bat-shit.”

Jenny asked, “Where is he leading us?”

Harrow said, “Well, to Lebanon. Beyond that, we don’t want to go there... because if the unsub stays in charge, Carmen could wind up dead. And maybe the rest of us too.”

“Let me check something,” Jenny said, and her fingers flew on the laptop keyboard, stopping occasionally, then flying some more. “Here’s an interesting stat — Settler Feed field corn KS1422 is sold in twenty-three counties in Kansas, one of which is Smith County.”

“Lebanon’s in Smith County,” Harrow said. “Did the unsub leave it on purpose, back in Florida? Or did he actually make a slip?”

Jenny shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Silence, but for the semi’s engine and rolling wheels, draped the little lab.

Finally, Harrow said, “We can’t exactly be subtle with two buses and a big rig, meaning when we rumble into town, everybody will know. Jenny, find me a rental car and a place to pick it up, well outside of town. I want to go in unannounced, and anonymous.”

Choi asked, “What about the TV show?”

Anderson said, “Hell with the TV show.”

Everybody clapped.

Everybody except Jenny, that is, who was again busy tapping the keyboard. “Renting the car is easy,” she said. “Assuming you have a credit card...”

Harrow smiled. “I have a credit card, all right — for my expenses, on UBC’s dime.”

This elicited more applause.

Harrow got out his wallet and passed Jenny the AMEX black card.

“Never seen one of these before,” she said.

“I hadn’t either,” he said.

Laurene came over for a look. “You wanna inspire me to catch bad guys? Some new Jimmy Choos would do the trick.”

Harrow said, “When we catch this guy, Laurene, and bring Carmen back safe and sound, I’ll put your shoes on my own damn card.”

Suddenly embarrassed by her flip remark, Laurene said, “We’ll get her back, boss. Carmen’s a smart, tough kid. And you’ve got yourself a good team here.”

“I know I do,” he told her, and them. “I know we came together under the umbrella, even the cloud, of this Killer TV concept. You know I’ve always viewed that as a means to an end. But finding the bastard that took my family away is not as important as getting Carmen back. I don’t mean to embarrass you, but... you’re my family now. And she’s part of that family. Game faces on, children.”

The team members, nodding, seemed every bit as determined as their leader.

“Nearest place to rent a car’s Topeka,” Jenny said. “Round trip, about three hundred miles out of our way.”

“Unacceptable.”

“What can we do?”

Harrow thought for a moment. “Rent the car,” he said. “Tell me when you have it ready, and find me a town between here and Lebanon, where we can pick it up.”

Jenny shook her head. “No way to get the car there.”

“You rent the car, I’ll get it to the drop point.”

She frowned, but said, “Okay.”

“I need ten minutes,” he said.

Sensing that Harrow wanted to be alone, Laurene took over, giving the others fresh assignments.

At the far end of the lab, away from everyone, Harrow sat at a work station and rotated his head. Next, he put his elbows in front of him, closed his eyes, and leaned forward until his forehead rested in his hands.

He didn’t sleep when he did this — the exercise was actually closer to meditation — but it gave him a chance to center himself, and to find that place within where he could focus and set aside frustration, exhaustion, anger, any issue that kept him from concentrating on what was at hand.

Critics of Crime Seen! and its new segment had already started howling, even after just two episodes. Despite a good number of positive reviews, Harrow ignored those and concentrated on the pans.

Some said he was exploiting the deaths of his family. He’d expected that — those voices had been there even during the first season. Others said the show suffered from a slow pace, because they had not yet captured, or even identified, the serial killer. After only two shows!

If Harrow thought there’d been pressure when he was sheriff, or at the DCI, this TV life was many times worse — about six million times worse, actually, and growing (if the overnight ratings were to be believed).

At times he wondered if some part of him needed this, if some dark secret place craved the celebrity, if he was, in fact, somehow profiting from his own misfortune. For years, he’d fought the battle of whether or not the deaths of Ellen and David were his fault.