"I'd go two years, at least. You never know--a name might jump out at you. Criminals typically confine their activities to familiar areas, areas where they feel most comfortable and in control. Maybe Master lives in Rocklin now, but he probably had a legitimate reason for being in Placerville at one time or another."
Problem was, sifting through the property and rental information would be a long and painstaking process, and might yield no results.
Meanwhile, Samantha could be in the hands of the man who'd brutalized Toby Simpson. For her sake, he'd been hoping for easier, faster answers.
"If this Master wasn't familiar with the area," she said, "I feel he would've turned the boy loose somewhere off Interstate 80, not Highway 50."
"Something had to draw him in that direction instead of toward Auburn, which would be a more natural choice if he was coming from Rocklin," he agreed. "But I don't believe he meant to set the boy free. I think Toby escaped."
"What makes you think that?"
Reluctantly, and only because he needed the caffeine, Jonathan swallowed another gulp of stale coffee. "One look at him would convince you he wasn't meant to survive. You should see the poor kid."
"I'm glad to be spared that." She didn't have to explain why; he knew she'd seen enough in her profiling career.
"So, when they found him they didn't get anything more out of him, other than that comment about Master treating him like a dog, and Rocklin?"
she asked.
"That's it. He was pretty out of it. But as hurt as he was, they still had a hell of a time catching him. He wouldn't trust the man who first encountered him, so that guy got his wife, assuming a woman would seem less threatening."
"Did it help?"
"Not much. Toby would let her come closer but dodge away before she could actually touch him, all the while crying for his mother."
"Have any other bodies turned up?" she asked.
He could tell by her brisk tone that she didn't want to dwell on Toby's condition. "Not that I've heard. I spoke with Skye's husband earlier."
"David's with Sacramento PD, not Rocklin."
"But I knew he'd get further with the other departments than I would."
Jonathan inched forward, along with the other motorists on Highway 65.
"There've been no homicides in the past several months, at least of pubescent or prepubescent children," he told her.
"What about the detective in charge? What's his name?"
"Thomas."
"Does he believe there might be a connection?"
"I talked to him a few hours ago. He's looking into it."
"He might be able to get someone to check the rental records."
That didn't mean Jonathan wouldn't have to do it himself. Only then could he feel confident that nothing had been missed or overlooked. "I hope."
The next few seconds passed in silence as Jonathan gave Jasmine some time to mull it over.
"So what do you think about this guy?" he asked at length.
"Anything?"
"Because Master had the boy for so long, I'm tempted to assume he's a recluse, an outcast who hovers on the periphery of the community. He's got to be able to hide his prize, doesn't he?" she said.
"If he's going to hang on to a victim for two months, he does."
"But something isn't right about that theory. I'm not...comfortable with it."
"Could be the neighborhood," he said. "It's too new and affluent for the lonely, blue-collar worker you're picturing."
"True, but...it's more than that. There could be a few outcasts, a derelict son who's living with his parents, or a renter who doesn't fit the normal demographic."
"There aren't rentals in this part of Rocklin. I'd be surprised if there's more than one or two."
"Maybe Master inherited a fortune from his parents. Heck, maybe he even inherited their house and doesn't have anything to do all day but prey on kids."
Jonathan had already talked to all friends, family and neighbors and hadn't come across a situation like the one she described. "What about motivation?" he asked. "You think these are sex crimes?"
"The boy was found without his clothes, wasn't he?"
Several cars in front of him, an Explorer nosed over, trying to change lanes, and almost caused another accident. "Just what we need," Jonathan muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing. Master could've used nudity as a form of control. Or humiliation," he said. "I mean, if he's a sex offender, it's odd that he'd switch genders, isn't it?"
"Not especially. Not if he's more interested in sex as a form of torture than sex for its own sake. Studies have shown that a lot of psychopaths are working to fulfill one particular fantasy, to act it out until they get it 'perfect,'
which never really happens because it's more like an itch that comes back even after it's been scratched. The fantasy revolves around their particular fetish."
As interested as Jonathan was in this discussion, he was growing impatient with the traffic jam that kept him idling. At this rate, he'd miss Zoe for sure. But he had no option except to wait it out. The other lanes weren't moving any more quickly, and the next exit was quite a ways off. "Isn't that why so many of them choose similar victims? This guy went from a fourteen-year-old boy to a thirteen-year-old girl."
"These kinds of offenders have to weigh the odds of getting exactly what they want against fulfilling their craving. It could be that Master would rather have had a girl when he took the Simpson boy or would've preferred a boy when he took Samantha, but one or the other became available to him, and he capitalized on the opportunity. Or..."
There was a slight break in traffic and he pulled ahead, hoping the congestion was finally about to ease, but it didn't. He had to brake again to avoid hitting the motorcycle in front of him. "Or what?"
"Or you're grasping at straws. Maybe there's no connection between the Simpson boy and the Duncan case. You could be dealing with two different perpetrators. You know that."
"I admit there's not much to link them--except the Rocklin connection.
That has me convinced Master's our scumbag. And Sam was taken on the same day Toby was found. For two crimes against children of a similar age to happen one right after the other in such a small geographic area, an area that sees very little of this kind of thing...it's too much of a coincidence."
"Well, if it is him, he's confident, I'll give you that."
"What makes you say so?"