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to dump a body. A small cove. But almost impossible to trace if he did use a boat.”
    “You know, Thorpe, I like you and the way you think. Exactly what I’d concluded. Believe it’s consistent with the others,” Jackson said.
    Thorpe, not certain if he liked Jackson’s tactics, felt he’d been given a test to pass. He wondered if the kid considered him competent.
    Jackson and Thorpe finished the day interviewing Annie’s roommate. She’d been interviewed several times, but Jackson wanted one more. Marsha Taylor, a quiet girl, visibly shaken from her roommate’s death, looked anxious. They’d caught her while she packed to leave. Her father and boyfriend had come to help, determined not to let her stay another night in her apartment by herself.
    “Only a few more questions, Marsha,” Thorpe assured the young woman. “Your father and friend can stay. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
    “You’re sure that Annie didn’t say anything, anything at all about anyone that might have had an interest in her?” Jackson questioned Marsha with a different approach than he’d used on Thorpe. Jackson charmed the girl with his smile and quickly put her at ease.
    “No. She would’ve told me. The only thing she mentioned was an older guy—a customer in Chieftains—talking to her about her family. She did say he’d come back in a couple of times,” Marsha said, her voice just above a whisper. Her boyfriend sat beside her holding her hands.
    Thorpe and Jackson exchanged looks.
    “What exactly did Annie say about the guy?” Thorpe asked.
    “Nothing much. He didn’t express any interest in her romantically, if that’s what you’re getting at. All she said was there was this older guy who had come in alone. He said his family had gone visiting his wife’s mother and left him alone. They got to talking because the place wasn’t busy.” Marsha stopped. Her voice rose. “Do you think it was that guy?”
    Jackson lightly shook his head. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Anything you can think of can help us.”
    Marsha looked at her boyfriend before continuing. “Annie told me he missed his daughter. I believe she said he’d told her she was just a little younger than Annie, in high school maybe, or junior high at the most. He always worried something would happen to her. A lot of freaks in the world.”
    Tears fell. She sniffled and gulped, trying her best to contain herself.
    “Annie said he was more like a father figure. Telling her to be careful. She told him he didn’t have to worry about her. She had three older brothers and an overprotective father. She was well looked after.”
    Nothing much came after that. The guy must’ve paid cash. They couldn’t find any credit card receipts that linked anyone of that description. No one down at Chieftain’s remembered the guy. A couple of them did remember Annie talking with a guy about his family and hers, but no one remembered what he looked like. They hadn’t paid enough attention at the time. No one could place him there the night of Annie’s disappearance. By the end of the day, Thorpe and Dunn had more questions than answers.
    “This can be so frustrating. Nothing, basically, except for the fact that he falls into our profile. Doesn’t help catching him. How did you catch Richards?” Jackson asked.
    “Caught a break. A tip came in. I was at the point where I’d followed any lead I could. It played out.” Thorpe shrugged.
    “I just hope we can catch a break before this killer strikes again, because he will.”
    For once today, Thorpe couldn’t disagree.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Jeffrey Dills, a large, robust man, had used his intimidating figure to his advantage as an undercover narcotics officer for the Boston Police department for well over twenty-five years. He’d retired six years ago and moved down to Marshfield on the South Shore.
    Norah, his wife of over thirty years, loved the ocean: the freedom from the traffic, the hectic