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God. “Could be a variety of reasons for the strays—”
    Saleda picked up for her. “Clumsy. Lack of conviction. Nerves. Less training—”
    In the box, Isaac’s tongue lined his teeth beneath his lips. Jenna’s mother’s face filled her brain. Claudia had worn such a sick, smug smile at the defense table while Jenna testified at her competency hearing after Claudia was arrested for the murder of four husbands, then charged with one murder and the attempted murder of Jenna’s father and brother.
    Before Jenna could stop herself, she threw in, “Less enthusiasm.”
    Hank shifted his weight just enough so his elbow brushed hers. “I say we give him the call. We don’t know where he’s going with this, but we need more to go on.”
    Jenna’s skin prickled from Hank’s touch as she shook her head. “He’s not gonna lead us to the shooter, Hank.”
    Don’t do something stupid because you’re trying to protect me.
    Hank shrugged. “Maybe not. But it’ll lead us somewhere.”

J enna entered the box behind Isaac, but she knew he’d heard the door open. She stopped moving, waited.
    “So, dear Doc,” he finally said over his shoulder, “what’s the verdict?”
    Jenna plopped the cordless onto the table, slid into her seat. “Time for your call, Isaac. I assume you know the drill. Collect call, so whoever answers will have to accept the charges. Phone call recorded, all that good stuff.”
    “Oh, goodie.” There was no inflection there. He stared at her with cold eyes, then picked up the phone.
    She watched him dial, tried to read his expressionless face. Hank was right. They had no leads on the ferry shooter, and Isaac’s call might give them something to go on. Still, she couldn’t ignore the pit in her stomach that said this phone call would end up being a curveball in the dirt. They’d chase it, just like he planned.
    “Isaac Keaton,” the killer said, apparently reaching the prompt for his name.
    Jenna filed the information away. Whoever he was calling knew him by this name.
    The phone couldn’t have rung more than once, because Isaac spoke almost right away. He snapped off only three sentences. “I can’t talk long. I’m all right. B, please.”
    He was quiet for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear. Then he added, “Love you, too. I’ll be in touch.”
    The color of cement flashed in. Anytime Jenna thought about her family, saw other family members embrace, rose. Friends arm in arm showed marigold. Couples sharing intimate moments tended to register deep burgundy. But this comment, this was cement. Flat.
    Isaac ended the call and placed the phone back on the table between them.
    “Close-knit family, huh?”
    Isaac slid the phone back across the table to her. “You should know.”
    Jenna snatched up the phone a bit quicker than she’d meant to. Relax your fingers.
    He noticed. “How’s your family, Dr. Ramey? Why’d you move them back here, after all this time? You could’ve gone anywhere after the big, bad BAU. Why back to the Sunshine State?”
    A lump formed in Jenna’s throat as the images of the house on Oak Hollow Road flashed in her mind like a picture reel: she and Charley playing tag in the front yard while her dad pushed the old, stinky lawnmower just past the wooden fence. Her dad hoisting her to the peak of the Christmas tree to plop the star on top. Running through the house, passing bloody streaks on the walls. Standing in the kitchen doorway when the police took Claudia away. Watching from her SUV as the wrecking ball dealt the old house its first blow.
    She bit back her reaction, swallowed hard. No more Oak Hollow Road house with its perfect picket fence and perfect driveway. Now she had wrought iron gates and the generic, impersonal parking lot of a high-rise apartment building. Better.
    “You from around here, Isaac? You sure do know a lot about me for someone who’s not,” she snapped back.
    “Vern doing well?” he countered.
    “Daddy issues,