There were lots of theories and rumors about why he worked so randomly but none that had been substantiated.
Nate’s hesitation to respond made her uneasy.
When he finally lifted his gaze to hers, the worry and regret there had her pulse fluttering. “Forty-eight hours ago, we got a hit on the Butcher’s DNA from one of the public ancestry sites.”
Now he had her full attention. “Are you serious?” This could be huge for her segment. Not just huge but freaking phenomenal! The timing couldn’t be more perfect. “This is amazing. Please tell me you can share at least some of the details with me.”
He nodded, his expression strangely somber now. “I can.”
“Fantastic.” Anticipation rushed through her. “Has the person who submitted the test been notified?”
“We’re working on that.”
“So we’re talking about a close relative. A sibling or—”
“Child,” Nate interjected.
“Oh my God.” Excitement burst inside her like fireworks on the Fourth of July. This was the proverbial gold mine. “The Butcher has a child?”
“He does. We can’t be sure he’s aware of this child’s existence. All we know at this time is that the test is conclusive. The child’s DNA and the DNA from those two homicide scenes are a perfect genetic match for father/daughter.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard about this on the news.” Wait. He’d said they were working on contacting the match. She understood now. The FBI was keeping the news quiet until they notified the match. “How can I help?”
The reality of exactly how amazing this news was hit her all over again.
“You submitted a sample to Find Me.”
She nodded. Find Me was, in Lara’s opinion, currently the best genealogy site out there. “They’re not sponsoring my segment,” she pointed out. “I felt that would be a conflict of interest.”
“I know.” His gaze held hers, his face as clean of emotions as his tone suddenly sounded. “The match located was at Find Me.”
“Oh.” Lara frowned, lines of tension forming between her eyebrows. Was he trying to ask her to hold off on the segment until this situation was sorted out? “I don’t see how this discovery presents any problem with my moving forward with the segment I have planned. Unless the FBI feels otherwise.” She couldn’t imagine they would. The case had nothing to do with her segment. It was just further proof what an asset DNA could be.
Nate’s attention remained steady on her, but he said nothing further. Another possibility nudged its way beyond her enthusiasm. Every part of her stilled; even her heart seemed to stumble, and she understood her line of thinking was off-base…wrong.
Very, very wrong.
This was not amazing by any definition of the word or stretch of the imagination. “What is it you’re trying to tell me?”
“You are the match, Lara.”
She made a sound, a sort of laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. “That’s impossible. My father died before I was born.” He was in the Army and was killed in one of the conflicts in the Middle East. She knew the story by heart. Her mother had told her over and over how only weeks into her pregnancy—before she even knew she was pregnant—her father’s unit was called to duty, like so many others. Only he hadn’t made it through the operation. He’d come back in a box as so many other soldiers had.
Her mother would never have lied to her.
Was it possible Mary Franklin was somehow wrong?
The bottom dropped out of Lara’s stomach. No matter how much she loved and trusted her mother, she understood that the man looking so downtrodden at having to relay this news was correct. He would not come bearing this awful revelation otherwise.
She, Lara Franklin, true crime blogger, was the daughter of a heinous serial killer.
All the depraved details, the ruthless scenarios and horrific theories she’d discussed at length in her years of blogging suddenly seemed wrong.
So very wrong.
Nate had a dozen years in the Bureau. He loved his job. He’d done his time in research, then as an agent in the field and the last six as a member of Public Affairs in one of the top positions in D.C. His loyalty and commitment to the Bureau had never been in question.
Until now.
This thing they wanted him to do was not right. Not in any sense of the word.
The powers that be had come to him because of his relationship with Lara and dropped this bomb in his lap.
What he and Lara had was a strong bond—a relationship. Those blue eyes staring at him in shock made his gut clench. They were friends. Had been for years. When he’d moved to Public Affairs after his divorce, she was his first interesting information request. Her prominent status as a public figure had landed her a little higher up the food chain. He’d been a research source for her since. Somewhere along the way they had become friends.
Good friends.
He felt a responsibility to protect her from what the Bureau he served and respected wanted.
“Is there any possibility this is a mistake?”
Her voice sounded strangely fragile, making his gut clench. Lara was one of the strongest people he knew. She was outgoing, straightforward and basically unstoppable. She took the bad with the good and produced a media forum about crime that was unsurpassed, in his opinion.
That, too, was being considered in this hot mess.
No matter that a part of him understood what the profilers in the Behavioral Analysis Unit were attempting to do, he didn’t agree with the tactic. Didn’t like it at all.
He knew Lara. Didn’t matter that they hadn’t met face to face until a few minutes ago. He knew her as well as he knew any one of his friends.
The idea that all the cases she had dissected were now viewed as suspect infuriated him. How could anyone but a killer—other than perhaps one genetically connected to said killer—create and post such eerily and frighteningly accurate scenarios? This was the Bureau’s question. Of course, they had framed it as a concern for Lara’s welfare, but he’d read between the lines.
The Bureau had shifted its powerful scrutiny to Lara Franklin. She was now a person of interest, basically a suspect.
His job was to keep an eye on her until the situation was resolved or, at the very least, clarified.
He shook his head in answer to her question, desperately wished the solution to this unthinkable dilemma was so simple. “No. Unfortunately, there’s no mistake.”
She drew in a deep breath, pulled herself upright and looked him straight in the eye. “What do they want me to do?”
He should have known she would immediately grasp the magnitude of her new position in the eyes of the Bureau. She was far too smart and too perceptive to not fully comprehend the implications of her new quandary.
“It doesn’t matter what they want,” he reminded her. If the Bureau had hoped he would come to her home and represent their interests only, they were sadly misguided. He wouldn’t do that. “What counts is what you want to do.”
She appeared to digest this for a moment. “First, I need to come to terms with the possibility that my mother lied to me all those years. Assuming she knew he wasn’t dead.”
Since her mother passed a few months ago, Lara couldn’t exactly ask her. Nate had wanted to come to the funeral. He’d been desperate to put his arms around Lara and give her a hug. But the worst flu he’d had in his life had left him no option except to call and send flowers. They’d made tentative plans to rendezvous for dinner when she returned to New York.