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first glance I’d say he’s a serial killer, not so much the sexual predator. What do you think?”
    Drebin’s lips pursed in the ghost of a smile. “Your mamma didn’t raise any stupid ones, did she? And the fact that you even put the words sexual and predator together tells me you didn’t sleep through your classes at San Jose State. All right, I need more information to make a detailed profile, but my initial guess would be a 30-45 year old single white male. I’m assuming that since your only identifiable victim is white. You know as well as I do that serials rarely cross race boundaries. I guess the next question is who’s running your crime lab, and how much do you trust them?”
    Ashton grimaced and replied, “I pulled the Modesto boys into this last night. They reported this morning and have been handling the crime scene ever since.” He looked at Drebin beseechingly. “I called in the best crime scene folks I knew to contain and analyze the crime scene. What should I do with them?”
    Drebin looked thoughtful, then answered, ”I can get a couple of our guys and a van up here discreetly if you want. Then I can fold your crime-scene investigation in with the FBI’s. That should keep it confidential, at least at the beginning.” At Ashton’s nod he picked up the office phone and dialed Modesto.

 
    Chapter Five
     
    Things moved quickly after that. The FBI lab technicians arrived with little fanfare and set up operations in conjunction with the locals in one of the high school science labs. The high school was an ideal command post because of its proximity to the Sheriff’s Office, the absence of students due to summer vacation, and its distance from the main drag. The Sheriff’s Department set up another command center at the town park, removing the media from the immediate area and giving them access to more space and much-needed amenities.
    Ashton and his team had soon commandeered most of one of the back buildings, which was conveniently hidden from the view of the press and any locals with more curiosity than sense. Having a supervisor on the school board hadn’t hurt matters at all.
    The duffel bag had yielded one-half million dollars in well-used bills. Speculation among the officers was that it was drug or mob money, in which case it might never be traced.
    Drebin had been walking a very thin line all evening, between keeping this a local investigation or involving the full strength and force of the federal government. He was becoming more and more inclined to swing toward direct involvement, but since it was unclear where the murders had occurred, the Bureau was standing one very short step back.
    Joe Whelan had finished the first set of autopsies by four and confirmed his preliminary report. Both Jane Doe Five and Jane Doe Four were females, ages ranging between sixteen and twenty-five. Both had been shot at point-blank range in the center of their foreheads. Jane Doe Five’s body was still largely intact, and he had determined that she had not died of the gunshot wound to the forehead as originally anticipated, but from manual strangulation. Additionally, he had discovered what looked like green silk fibers all over her body, confirming the initial crime scene report. She’d almost certainly been dead four to seven days, but it was hard to tell without the entomology report. He left the worst news for last. He had known her, recognizing the butterfly tattoo she had proudly displayed just before she left town.
    Her name had been Kim Ross and she was a local. The revelation appalled Bill. He had known Kimmie Ross, just as he knew every teenager in this county. He had watched her in annual drama productions at the high school auditorium and seen her swing a bat on the softball diamond. He’d also busted her occasionally at the local teen beer bashes and sent her on her way, home to the welcoming arms of her parents. Katherine and Jim Ross would not see her again.
    “ Jesus Joe, are you