Primal Obsession by Susan Vaughan

fall,” continued the agent. “No winter hunting for our subject.”
    “Maybe he doesn’t like to be cold,” suggested another detective.
    Tavani shrugged. “Possibly. Or winter weather keeps his victims indoors. Or snow might leave too obvious signs of struggle. He’s able to abstain for months at a time. However, if the last two missing women are his—in June and July—he’s stepped up his pace.”
    “Isn’t acceleration an indication of a breakdown in his personality?” Justin asked. “He could start to make mistakes.”
    “That’s often the case. I hope it means he’ll make mistakes. Because he’s made none so far.” The agent’s jaw tightened as his gaze locked on the pictures of the murdered young women.
    “Go on, please,” Lieutenant Watson said.
    Tavani cleared his throat. “The childhood abuse may have involved confinement in a small space. Hence his preference for open spaces. I expect he had an illness or a speech impediment that he overcame or covers with this macho hunter image.
    “His approach to the women seems to be devious, conversational, to gain confidence, a con approach that implies physical normality and intelligence. In contrast, a blitz attack is typical of a killer who lacks confidence in interacting with people. Our subject is an opportunist as far as his choices of victims, except that they’ve all been small and unable to give him much resistance. His MO is organized and predictable.”
    “Too bad we can’t predict where he’ll strike next,” Bess Peters said.
    “If the dates and crime scenes match up to some company’s work schedule, we’ll have a pattern,” the lieutenant answered. “And an ID.”
    “But will it be in time to prevent another death?” Peters slapped shut her notepad. Her lips clamped into a grim seam.
    Tavani didn’t need to outline the killer’s torture methods, Justin mused. They all knew too well the brutalities inflicted on the victims. Stripped naked, they tried to flee through the woods only to be shot or stabbed to death and then disfigured and sexually molested.
    “The only mercy he shows his victims is that he seems to kill them outright before...defiling them,” observed Peters. “Can you explain that?”
    “Necrophilia is an indication of his sexual inadequacy. Masturbation doesn’t satisfy, and I expect he can’t perform on living women. The mutilation stems from his hatred of the gender.”
    “Good ol’ Mom did quite a number on him,” Watson said.
    “Possibly. But don’t let that con you into sympathy for him. In an inadequate personality, the subject’s perception of a slight or indifference or casual cruelty is exaggerated beyond common sense. Whatever happened to him in childhood, he alone is responsible for his actions.”
    Eyes hard and mouths tight, the detectives stared at Tavani as if willing him to reveal the killer’s identity.
    While they absorbed the implications of the bad guy’s perversions, Tavani turned his profile sheet over.
    “Before you continue, I have another question,” Justin said. “About his contact—if it was him—with the reporter at the Messenger .”
    “That was your sister, Wylde, wasn’t it?” a detective asked. “Must have freaked her out. Hope she put double locks on her doors. You got surveillance on her?”
    “She’s safe,” Justin said. “We don’t know why, but the killer stopped calling. I know these guys sometimes hang out around cops to learn what they know about his case. We haven’t uncovered anyone like that. You have any suggestions?”
    “That’s true,” Tavani said. “Maintaining that secret identity and the control of what the public and the police know is part of the thrill. In this case, with murders all over the state, it looks like he chose to contact the reporter who tagged him the Hunter . If he contacts her again, we might arrange a meeting.”
    Justin stifled a shudder. Annie’d probably jump at the chance to meet the Hunter face to face. No