Moving Target. Lori May A.

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СКАЧАТЬ the killer’s selection process, victim number six would have been dead.

      At the Baton Rouge field office, Martin, Sharland, and several of the other FBI agents were combing through the newfound information, gathering a case against the man they hoped would be prosecuted for a series of murders, and one failed attempt.

      The evidence always had the final say in making a charge stick, but with what they’d encountered and the crime that had been stopped in its progress, the killer hadn’t had time to cover his intentions. His DNA would certainly help, as well as the additional trace being collected off Francesca.

      She stood still, careful not to disturb the process of collection, while a local team member combed through her hair, and removed all trace of the man’s presence on her body.

      “My things?” she asked when the protocol was complete, determined to sign on to her laptop and check her awaiting e-mail.

      Delphi had signaled for her attention and though the criminal case against this serial killer was far from over, Francesca’s role in it had come to an end. She could now offer full attention to the call from Oracle.

      After her personal belongings were returned to her, Francesca took a moment to shake hands with the various agents she had come to know in this recent, but brief assignment.

      “We asked for the best,” Sharland said, offering a firm shake and a rare smile. “I’m glad they went one step further.”

      “I’m sure your work is just about to begin,” she said, signaling her departure with a casual salute to the brow. Never one for goodbyes, Francesca preferred to keep it simple.

      Outside, she crossed the street to a cozy café that advertised a wireless high-speed Internet zone. While waiting for a taxi to take her to the airport where she would catch the earliest flight back to the familiar territory of Richmond, Virginia, Francesca settled into a booth, nursing a cup of black coffee, and then typed in the password to access her e-mail account, ready to view Delphi’s message.

      It was a short one, at that. Knowing more information would be awaiting her arrival back home she couldn’t help the curiosity about what activity was calling her into action.

      The message simply read assignment for you, which was enough to pique her interest.

      To anyone else this would likely seem vague and cryptic.

      But Francesca knew all too well what was being asked of her. An assignment from Oracle implied she would be working with highly sensitive information.

      More important, Francesca knew, the request was one she would promise to execute and make top priority.

      Chapter 2

      Within the comfort of her own apartment, surrounded by the familiar, Francesca settled into the window seat with her laptop, taking a moment to peer down at the busy street below her. In the heart of the downtown core, the view afforded her the greatest science experiment of all—watching people in their natural habitat.

      After graduate school, and her training with the FBI in Quantico, Francesca was stationed within the Richmond field office to handle some of the toughest profiling cases ever to cross an agent’s desk.

      While that usually led her to work with murderers, and she had a knack within the specialty of fingerprinting serial and spree killers, her profiling skills extended to hunting down a variety of cases handed to her. Serial offenders, no matter what the charge, were some of the trickiest individuals out there when it came to the professional world of crime. But it was always the tough ones Francesca thrived on solving, loving that sense of accomplishment that would arrive when a case closed. Even though the success of one case was short-lived with the assignment of another case to crack, those minuscule moments were worth it all, reminders that her work was valued not only within the FBI, but as a productive role in society.

      No matter where an assignment took her or how difficult a case she was dealt, it was her modest home retreat where she worked best, enjoying the calm it could bring in between cases, and the quiet it could shed on an overactive mind.

      It was something coworkers had commented on far too many times. Francesca’s inability to leave work at work, and save the moments at home as some sort of spa-like sanctuary. Sure, it all sounded great in theory. Turning off the working mind entirely, however, was easier said than done.

      This, though, was nothing to complain about, as far as she was concerned. Her mind had a way of mysteriously working, even in her sleep, and putting together the puzzle pieces of profiling cases was something she lived for. It was her passion. Her obsession. Her purpose.

      And really, Chesca had so little of a social life outside of her colleagues and keeping in touch with connections made through Athena Academy, that her downtime away from work was…well, mostly focused on work. It was a stark contrast to the socialite home life she was reared in as a child, that’s for sure. But working the big cases had become her life’s carrot. It’s what made her feel whole.

      Smart enough to realize life couldn’t be all work and no play, Francesca did her best to make her home environment as comfortable as possible, so that she had the best of both worlds.

      It may have been considered a working playground by some, but to her it was a haven away from the office chaos. A place to concentrate. Formulate ideas. Connect the dots. And it was comfy as hell.

      Though the domestic environment of her childhood home was of museum quality—harsh lines, stuffy upholsteries, over-the-top everything—Chesca preferred comfort over style when it came to home fashions. Usually this applied to her personal wardrobe as well. What was the point in having a pricy settee that no one would dare touch? Not that she entertained guests often. Which further emphasized the point of making sure her abode was the most comfortable and casual it could be.

      The ultrasuede couch was her most beloved furnishing in the small but ample apartment, nearly seeming overstuffed and oversized for the one-bedroom, second-floor unit. But the collection of throws, mixed-and-matched textures of pillows, and a well-placed shag carpet all catered to the sense of feeling swept off her feet.

      Perhaps it was the deliberate contrast of her upbringing that led her to prefer comfort, practicality and function. Whether she was working on an all-night caseload, or drifting off to late-night infomercials, it didn’t matter so long as she could put her feet up, let her back slide into cushiony softness, and feel…at home.

      Despite her reputation for being career-focused, Francesca was often regarded as a “what you see is what you get” kind of person, her simple lifestyle contrasting with the often-complex cases she’d encounter in her work world.

      Alex Forsythe, fellow Athena grad and FBI forensics colleague to Francesca, had often said she admired this trait in her friend, knowing no matter how complicated the world around them could get sometimes, there was nothing better than counting on a good, solid friendship that was as clear as day, and hassle-free.

      Which is exactly how Chesca preferred to keep her living situation. Hassle-free. While a substantial section of her urban apartment was dedicated as a workstation, stacked with files, case histories, and tools of the trade, this never cluttered her comfortable environment, or took over the meaning of her home.

      Bringing work home, and letting it clutter her life were two very different things, and Chesca always made sure that no matter how tough a case she was working on, she knew when to file something away for the night, and how to file СКАЧАТЬ