The Next Accident - Lisa Gardner [107]
“Fourteen months after Mandy’s accident, he starts a fresh wave of maneuvers. First tactic: Diversion. He spreads around your address and telephone number to every psycho in the continental U.S. Next tactic: Confusion. He steals your identity, assumes your appearance, and begins to plant evidence that will get your fellow agents off his trail and on to you. Final tactic: Speed.”
“Everything is now happening at once,” Quincy said.
“Wednesday, Mom is murdered,” Kimberly whispered. “Thursday, Grandpa is kidnapped. Friday, we’re all on the run and Rainie is approached by some lawyer about her father. He’s not going to give us time to think, anymore. He’s not going to give any of us time to stop and consider and analyze. Because the minute we do, he knows he’s in trouble.”
Rainie was looking at Quincy. “This guy . . . he’s a black hole, Quincy. We don’t know who, why, how, when. He’s not giving you any information. He’s not making the mistake of underestimating you. Why?”
“Because I definitely know him.”
She smiled. “Because he definitely knows you. You thrive on information, puzzles, games. It’s your whole life. So step one was to keep his actions hidden for as long as possible. And step two is to keep you moving, instead of thinking. As long as you’re reacting to him, you can’t get ahead. Keeping you reacting is keeping you vulnerable. We have to break that cycle, Quince. We need an active game plan, a way of going on the offensive. And hiding out in Portland playing with databases isn’t it. He’ll find us here—probably a lot sooner than you think.”
Quincy grew silent. Then his gaze rose slowly to meet hers. “What do you think of Carl Mitz’s allegation that you have a father?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Just because it’s coincidence, doesn’t mean . . .”
“I got that!” Rainie took a deep breath, then let it out. “I just . . . I have to be careful. Mitz seems legit. There are aspects of Ronald Dawson’s background that also appear genuine. He was in prison for most of my life, we may very well find public record of the real estate deal that made his father a millionaire. On the other hand . . . Tristan Shandling’s MO is to disguise himself as the person his victim wants most. And yeah, I am interested in Ronald Dawson. I’m desperately interested in Ronald Dawson, and frankly, that scares me to death.”
“What if Mitz could arrange for you to meet Mr. Dawson in person?”
“No way.” She shook her head adamantly.
That intent look was back in Quincy’s eyes, and not his slow sexy look, but his all-knowing professional stare. “Active game plan,” he murmured.
Rainie closed her eyes. She knew what he wanted. It hurt her, it killed her, but it didn’t change the fact that once more, he was right. “Fine! I’ll meet with Ronnie. I’ll put my achy, breaky heart at risk. Never say I didn’t do anything for you.”
“But you can’t meet with him,” Kimberly blurted out. “If he’s the UNSUB, he could attack you, or kidnap you, or worse.”
“I don’t think your father intends for me to meet with Ronnie alone,” Rainie said dryly. “Not that he’s opposed to offering me as some juicy little bait.”
“I never—”
“Oh shut up, Quince. For God’s sake, I’m the one who just said we needed to be proactive. If Dawson is our favorite stalker, then let’s turn the tables on him. I’ll contact Mitz and set up a lunch date, with Luke and the boys singing backup. I can drill Ronnie for additional information about his paternity claim. At the very least, I can get yet another description to add to our files. Tristan Shandling, the man of many faces.”
“What if he tries something?” Kimberly protested.
“He won’t,” Rainie said.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because it’s his MO,” Rainie said flatly. “If Ronald Dawson is Tristan Shandling, he’s not going to come out of the gate swinging. Oh no. Quite the opposite. He’s going to sit across from me telling me how much he’s always wanted a daughter. He’s going to