14

Ten

Quantico, Virginia Wednesday, December 17 8:00 a.m.

C harlotte Douglas stretched, arms over her head, her breasts pulling against the thin silk of her blouse. Three interns walking by her office lingered in the hallway, watching the show. She knew it, arched her back a little more and tossed out a high-pitched sigh. One of the interns groaned aloud, and his friends hustled him away. Charlotte relaxed and giggled. Boys. So easy to manipulate. They’d be hanging around for days, willing to do anything she might need. It helped to have gophers, especially handsome dark-haired runners from Ivy League schools. Mmm…

She’d called Baldwin’s office, had a brief, nasty tete-a-tete with him. He dumped her into the lap of his acting director, who in turn touched base with the Nashville homicide office and set up an appointment with the head of Metro’s Criminal Investigative Division, Captain Mitchell Price. Everything was in place. She knew the Snow White Killer inside and out. And she knew she could catch him. It was just a matter of timing.

Charlotte had hung up the phone with a smile on her face and made another brief call. Within five minutes, Pietra Dunmore was standing in her doorway.

There was nothing about forensics that Pietra didn’t know. She’d written or coauthored at least six books on the subject, lending her expertise to universities and training seminars all over the country. She was the preeminent forensic scientist on the BSU staff, and didn’t care who knew it. The diminutive Pietra stood only five feet tall, but was a giant in all other respects. Charlotte had a level of admiration for the woman, and knew that because Pietra was black, they would rarely be competing for the same pool of men. Pietra didn’t do white guys, and Charlotte didn’t go black. Simple.

“What can I do for you, Charlotte?”

“We’re heading down South.”

“For what?”

“I need you to present some findings on the Snow White Killer case. I’ve e-mailed you the details.”

Despite Charlotte’s dramatic presentation, Pietra wasn’t rattled. “Old or new?”

Charlotte had given the woman a broad smile. “Both. We have some fascinating new information to share.”

Now Pietra stood in her doorway, her briefcase in her hand. It was time to go. Time to make her mark. Time.