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died in the
same auto accident. While she was in high school. As with Morgan, the police
didn't suspect foul play at the time and didn't do much of an investigation. But
in light of everything else, it's not hard to imagine that their daughter was
behind it.”
    Desh
knew signs of sociopathy were usually present from a very young age if anyone
was looking in the right direction. If Kira Miller could torch her brother in
cold blood, she wouldn't likely be squeamish about killing her parents either. A
thorough examination of mysterious deaths and disappearances with her as
epicenter was almost certain to be revealing. Perhaps brother Alan had been
helping this private investigator, Larry Lusetti. This was as good a conjecture
as any for why she killed him so soon after recovering the file Lusetti had on
her. Alan Miller could probably have pulled any number of skeletons from his
little sister’s closet—perhaps literally.
    “Any
other unexplained accidents in her wake?” said Desh.
    Connelly
nodded grimly. “An uncle drowned while swimming alone when she was twelve. And
he was known to be a very strong swimmer. There were two other incidents
involving teachers at Kira’s high school the next year. One turned up dead in
her apartment, her face so badly eaten away by sulfuric acid it was
unrecognizable. The other went missing and was never found. Neither case was
ever solved.”
    So
the breathtaking, fresh-faced girl smiling in the photo was a psychopath, and
was at the very least a double murderer. The tale Connelly had spun was truly
grisly. But Desh knew the worst was yet to come. There was only one reason any
of this would warrant the colonel’s attention. “So what’s the terrorism
connection?”
    Connelly
sighed heavily, as if he had hoped he could somehow avoid this discussion. He
rubbed his mustache once again and said, “As the Lusetti investigation and hunt
for Kira Miller continued, the police found evidence that she had been in communication
with several known terrorist organizations, including Al-Qaeda and Islamic Jihad.”
    “Nice
groups,” said Desh dryly.
    “The
case was turned over to Homeland Security. There’s a detailed report in the
accordion file, but they quickly found that she had millions of dollars
deposited in banks throughout the world, well hidden, including several
numbered Swiss accounts. They’re certain they haven’t found it all. The methods
she used to obscure the trail between herself and her money were quite
sophisticated. They also found several false identities, and are convinced she
has more.”
    “Working
with Jihadists is an interesting choice for a Western woman, even for a
sociopath. These groups aren't exactly known for being progressive when it comes
to a woman’s place in society.”
    “It's
a puzzle alright. She's not Muslim and there’s no evidence she ever supported this
ideology. She could be in it just for money, but somehow I think there's
something we're missing.”
    “Do
you think she’s attracted to the danger of working with terrorists?”
    Connelly
shrugged. “It’s impossible to say. Normal motives don’t necessarily apply to
psychopathic personalities. Jeffrey Dahmer murdered and cannibalized seventeen
people, three of whose skulls were found in his refrigerator.”
    “That’s perfectly rational behavior,” said Desh sarcastically. “He just didn’t
want them to spoil.”
    A
smile flashed across Connelly’s face, but only for a moment. “You’ll read in
the report that they found a flotation tank in her condo,” he continued. “Top
of the line. That’s a pretty unusual device to have taking up space in your
living room.”
    “Flotation
tank?”
    “They
used to be called sensory deprivation chambers. Basically a giant coffin filled
with water and Epsom salt. Seal yourself up in one and you bob around like a
cork, weightless, in total silence and total darkness. You receive virtually no
sensory input while inside.” Connelly grimaced.