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Scanlon went to all the trouble of drugging her and getting her home, why didn’t he collect his prize?”
    It enraged Jane to hear him so casually toss around the intimate details of Maura’s ordeal. This was not just a victim they were discussing; this was her friend, and she rocked forward in her chair, planting fists on the table. “Then where’s the blood on her dress? Tell me that. You don’t stab a guy fifteen times and walk away spotless.”
    “She changed clothes.”
    “She was wearing that dress in the museum surveillance video.”
    “If he was killed by someone else after he brought her home, how did he get to Olmsted Park?” said Crowe. “His car was still parked at her house.”
    “Obviously there was another vehicle,” said Jane. “Someone else was involved. Someone who drove Scanlon to Olmsted Park and killed him there.”
    “Right. This mysterious second man you keep talking about.”
    “Unknown male DNA was found inside Sarah Shapiro. There is a second man.”
    “Or Sarah Shapiro’s a flake. Lied about when she last had sex with a boyfriend, and then accused the wrong guy.”
    Frost said, “Sarah didn’t strike me as a flake at all. She’s a serious professional with a good head on her shoulders.”
    Crowe looked at Frost and laughed. “So says our resident expert on women.”
    It was a particularly cruel barb to direct at Frost, whose wife had walked out on him, and who still mourned the breakup of his marriage. Though Frost stiffened, he didn’t return the cruelty; he never did.
    “You’re so fixated on Maura,” Jane said to Crowe, “you’re trying to make the evidence fit your theory.”
    “You’re the one calling her Maura ,” Crowe pointed out. “Which makes it obvious you’ve got a problem being objective.” He turned to Marquette. “It’s hard to conduct an investigation when your friend’s the prime suspect.”
    “ She’s the victim here,” said Jane.
    “That’s exactly what she wants us to believe,” said Crowe. “Look, I’m not saying that Scanlon didn’t have it coming. Whoever killed him did us all a favor. Maybe he tried to assault her. Dr. Isles flew into a rage and delivered a little justice. After all, she does cut up people for a living. And she’s brilliant enough to come up with a good cover story.”
    Jane looked around the table. “You cannot be seriously considering this.”
    “We have to consider every possibility, Rizzoli,” said Marquette. “What else do we have?” He turned to Detective Moore. “Anything more on Scanlon’s vehicle?”
    Moore, ever the calm voice of the unit, said: “CSU is still working on the cell phone they found under the front seat. It’s a TracFone, password-protected, so we haven’t been able to get into it yet. The fact it was tucked way up under the seat makes me think it’s a phone he used only occasionally.”
    “To call his partner,” said Jane.
    “We unlock that phone, we may be able to find out the identity of Predator Number Two,” said Moore. “I’ve checked the other cases in the CODIS database. All the rapes where the unknown DNA showed up. They span a period of four years, all within thirty miles of Boston.” He typed on his laptop keyboard and swung the screen around to show Marquette the images of three women. “You’ll notice the similarities among thesevictims, as well as with both Sarah Shapiro and Kitty O’Brien. All of them educated, accomplished women. All targeted in upscale venues such as cocktail receptions or business conventions. Most were last seen, before the assaults, with a man matching Scanlon’s description.”
    “But his DNA wasn’t found in any of them,” said Marquette.
    “No,” said Moore. “Scanlon may have abducted them. But he didn’t rape them.”
    Marquette frowned. “He was merely the supplier.”
    “Which may be why he didn’t need a job,” said Frost. “He claimed to be a software developer, but we can’t find any recent employment records