Moving Target

He pulled tight around her throat, choking her.He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.Francesca Thorne was accustomed to gathering information from criminals in what wasn't said, whether it was through a look, a nervous tic despite attempts to mask such a giveaway, or simply a change in vocal pitch.It was what an opponent did not say that aided in the patchwork of piecing together a personality. Her role was simply to watch. Observe. Filter the subtleties of the subconscious into her puzzle-solving mind.Whereas she would normally calculate facial expressions and measure the pupil dilation of her suspect, waiting for a flinch to reveal so much more than well-selected words, the opportunity had not been given with this particular hunt.Instead, she had to count on the sound of his breath, the weight of his grasp as he held one arm tightly around her neck, choke-holding her into submission with her back facing him, unable to meet his eyes.He had snuck up on her.Though she had returned to the scene to analyze its meaning, determine why the killer had chosen this location for his latest victim, Francesca had not been counting on his presence. Not yet.His attack had caught her by surprise.The killer had demonstrated an odd pattern of returning to the scene of his crimes only to enact another, but in between he always committed a murder at a different location. That was his MO. Or at least the first five murders had suggested as much with his leapfrog style.One location, then another, then back again.By their calculations, he should have been somewhere else preparing to commit the sixth. She had chosen to come here with the hopes she could piece something together about his selection process, quickly enough to determine where the next crime would take place.But his MO had changed.It was inevitable he would switch it up.Knowing his back-and-forth actions as she now did, he would have been caught sooner or later, with the FBI knowing to stake out his previous playground. And, really, it was just child's play for him."You like taking risks," she said, holding her voice steady, not allowing even a shred of fear to show as the pressure of his grip grooved over her esophagus. "Yet you refuse to show your face. Slightly passive-aggressive, don't you think?"When in close contact with a serial killer, Francesca Thorne--lauded forensic psychologist for the FBI--pulled no punches in calling it as she saw it. That included tempting fate by asking somewhat dangerous questions, or igniting a suspect's volatile nature. It was a trait for which she was known.Setting herself up for increased risk was part of the job. The very act of trying to diagnose the criminal mentality meant opening up a whole world of unknown psyche. But it was within that very process that she was able to collect the critical data needed to prove or disprove a profiling theory, much like a forensic scientist would test the boundaries of physical evidence.In this case, mocking her captor only made sense. Her action would cause a telling reaction on his part.His breath, moist as he exhaled along her ear where his lips barely slid over the curve of her skin, was calm, masking any trace of anger or excitement.With his body held snug against hers, she could begin to create an image of his physical presence in her mind. Not the specifics such as eye or hair color, but from his stance she could estimate his height.From his breadth against her, she could make calculations of his weight.It was the nonvisual clues he gave, such as his scent, his body temperature, and his reaction to her teasing that would matter most. And with what little headway they had made with this case, these variables would not only help her plan a maneuver away from his grasp, they would also lend a hand in solving the identity of their prey.She closed her eyes, banning their sense from interrupting her analytical intake. SheMay, Lori A. is the author of 'Moving Target', published 2008 under ISBN 9780373389773 and ISBN 0373389779.