The Art of Obsession: A Frankie Johnson FBI Thriller (FBI Local Profiler Series Book 2) by Lori Lacefield

The Art of Obsession: A Frankie Johnson FBI Thriller (FBI Local Profiler Series Book 2) by Lori Lacefield

Author:Lori Lacefield [Lacefield, Lori]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Book Media, LLC
Published: 2021-10-17T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 27

Frankie felt herself choking, as if she were in a coffin filling with dirt and trying to salvage breath but only inhaling dust. She stared at the screen. She had no words.

There it was—Jeanne had known she was in trouble.

One of the answers Frankie most needed in order to narrow the profile was whether Anna, Melanie, and Emily had left with their new loves voluntarily or not, and Jeanne had just answered that. The letters and poems were a ruse.

Lieutenant Gordon was right. Jeanne Mapleton had been abducted.

He stepped up to the podium. “At this point, I’ll have Special Agent Johnson tell you what they have on the North Carolina case.”

Frankie, mind reeling, positioned herself behind the mic. She wasn’t used to being thrust into the lead. Normally she was able to stand behind Ben, with all his charm and confidence, as he spoke to officers and the media with ease. Now here she was with a roomful of law enforcement hanging on her every word, and she was barely able to utter a single one.

Their faces were anxious, muscles taut, jaws clenched.

She began with an overview of the Jamison case, running through the evidence and reading the poems and letters. For thirty minutes, the officers jotted notes, asked questions, and made general observations. They were attentive and on board. It wasn’t until Frankie gave them the timeline regarding Melanie’s and Emily’s disappearances that the tension in the room truly escalated.

“Two years? Jesus. I thought you said this Jamison woman disappeared just a month ago?” the young rookie of earlier said. “Don’t tell me this guy has been at this for two years and we’re just hearing about it now.”

A low thunder of voices rattled through the room.

Frankie held up her hand. “Until last month, no one had any idea that Melanie’s or Emily’s disappearances might be anything but their personal choice. As far as law enforcement knew, each of these women left their former lives on their own. We don’t know how many victims might be out there or how long this unsub has been active. What we do know is, in each of these cases, letters and poems were found that were similar to those given to Jeanne. Also, all three women worked at or near a major hospital. Although it’s entirely possible our unsub has taken victims outside the medical community, that seems to be his circle of contact. That makes Jeanne a potential victim. Also, it’s very likely our unsub is escalating, since he was interrupted last time.”

“Where did you say you found the last victim?” The question came from a member of the Virginia State Police, a seasoned officer with an elongated face and jowls like those of a bloodhound. The crooks in his nose left no doubt of its many prior fractures.

“At an abandoned farmhouse in Lexington, North Carolina.”

Frankie started to say more, then hesitated. Can I do it? Am I confident enough now to put a full profile out on the table?

Feeling



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