Karen Rose - Count to Ten

"That's fine." She frowned though. "Miles, if the Doughertys were the target, I'd agree. But if Caitlin was the victim, why the master bed? I mean, Caitlin was studying in the spare bedroom. What good did burning a bed she'd never touched do him?"

"It's a good question," Westphaler. admitted. "Go talk to the Doughertys."

"Other differences?" Spinnelli asked.

"He left Caitlin's car in the garage and used Penny Hill's to get away," Reed said.

"It does seem like he's organizing his method," West-phalen commented.

Spinnelli scribbled on the board. "Jack?"

"We found blood spatter on the carpet we took from the Doughertys' house. Ben Trammell also found what could have been the metal button from her jeans. It was in the hall, in a crevice against the staircase. We didn't find any trace of her jeans in the hall, but they could have burned. If they did, we should find some remnants in the ash."

"What about the gasoline?" Mitchell asked.

"None on the carpet. Only in the kitchen around where the body was found."

"So he raped and shot her in the hall, then dragged her into the kitchen and doused her with gasoline." Mitchell clenched her jaw. "Son of a bitch."

"Next of kin," Spinnelli said. "Have Penny Hill's been informed?"

"Not yet," she said. "I've called all the Mark Hills in Cincinnati, but none of them are related to Penny. Human Resources at DCFS will be at their desks in another half hour or so. I'll get contact information from them."

Spinnelli sat down. "Miles, can you give us a profile, or at least a place to start?"

Westphalen cast a cautious glance Reed's direction. "Lieutenant Solliday probably has a better understanding of arsonists."

Reed gestured for him to continue, interested in what he had to say. "Go ahead."

Westphalen took off his glasses and polished the lenses with his handkerchief. "Well, about twenty-five percent of arsonists are under fourteen and light fires for excitement or due to compulsion. I don't think that's the case here. Another twenty-five percent are fifteen to eighteen." He shrugged. "I don't want to believe a teenager could do this, but we all know they're capable. Rarely are arsonists over thirty years old. If they are, they're the torches the lieutenant mentioned-purely for profit. Adult arsonists who aren't for profit are almost always seeking revenge. The majority are white. Almost all are male. I'd almost guarantee this perpetrator has a record."

"We couldn't find any prints," Unger said. "He didn't leave anything behind that we've found so far, so we have nothing to lead us to him or his record."

Westphalen frowned. "Well, when he leaves something behind, I'm betting you'll be able to link it to someone, somewhere in the system. The fact that he was seen driving away from Mrs. Hill's house seconds before the explosion indicates he either planned the timing of his escape poorly or that he planned it well and has a high need for risk."

"A high sensation seeker," Mitchell said and Westphalen nodded.

"Perhaps. Arsonists in general have had an unstable childhood. Absent fathers, emotional abuse from the mother."

Reed's jaw tightened. There it was. He'd known it was impossible for any psychologist not to blame upbringing. Westphalen's eyes met his and Reed could see the shrink had picked up on his irritation, but the older man just mildly continued. "Many times arson is a stepping stone for sex crimes," Westphalen added. "I've treated a number of sexual predators who have used arson as a means of sexual gratification early on. Then the fires aren't good enough anymore. They graduate to rape."

"So you're not surprised that this guy would rape and burn," Mitchell said.

Westphalen put his glasses back on. "No, it doesn't surprise me at all. What does surprise me is that he didn't stick around to watch his fire burn. He plans such a giant blast and then doesn't stay for the performance."

"I thought the same thing," Reed agreed, stowing his irritation. "I checked the crowd last night. I didn't see anybody in either crowd that didn't live in the neighborhood and I didn't see anybody last night that was at the Doughertys' fire."

"What's next?" Spinnelli asked.

"I'll analyze the samples we took from Hill's house last night," Unger said. "I don't anticipate finding much in the kitchen, but we did sweep the front part of the house where there was less damage. I'm going to take a team back again this morning, to check things out in the daylight. If he left a hair and it didn't burn, we'll find it. Can I count on Ben Trammell, Reed? He was a huge asset yesterday."

"Of course."

"We'll talk to the Doughertys," Mitchell said. She looked up at Reed. "Then I'd like to go back to Penny Hill's house, too."

"We should also go back to the university. We need to know who else knew where Caitlin would be or if anyone was seen around campus that didn't belong."

"And then to the arcade to check out Joel Rebinowitz's alibi. I drove by after I left Penny Hill's last night, but they were closed. They open again at noon." Mitchell looked over ai Spinnelli. "I still need Burnette's case files Can you send Stacy to get them?"

Spinnelli scratched a note on his notepad. "How far back do you want her go?"

She looked over at Westphalen. "What do you think, Miles. A year?"

The old man shrugged. "It's a place to start. I don't know, Mia."

"Me, either," she said grimly. "We can stop by DCFS and get access to Hill's records on the way back then we crosscheck until something common pops."

"Reed, have you run a database check for similar fires?" Spinnelli asked.

"Yep. I ran queries through the BATS database, Sunday morning and again this morning before I came. BATS is the Bomb Arson Tracking System that's maintained by the ATF," he added in response to Mitchell's puzzled look. "I got a lot of hits on solid accelerants, but mostly in commercial properties. I didn't get any hits when I added in the murders. I got thousands when I queried trashcan fires. I set up a query to run automatically a few times a day in case our guy does something like this somewhere else. We'll see."

Spinnelli frowned. "So basically our best bet is finding a link between our own cases at this point. Update me before you leave for the day, Mia. Good luck." He and Unger left the room, but Westphalen hung back, aimlessly fiddling with his tie.

"You don't believe in the impact of home life on criminals," Westphalen said, his voice still mild. Reed hated shrinks' "mild" voice. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"I think it's society's panacea," he said, not nearly as mildly. "Everybody's got issues, Doctor. Some people get dealt a liaidet deck than otheis. Too bad. Good people deal with it and become productive citizens. Bad people don't. It's that simple."

Mitchell looked at him, her blue eyes curious, but said nothing. Westphalen pulled on his overcoat. "Such conviction."

"Yes," Reed answered, knowing his answer was curt and not giving a damn. Shrinks used ploys like that to learn things most sane people would rather keep private.

"We'll have to talk more someday," Westphalen said, mild amusement in his voice, then he turned to Mitchell with a warm smile. "I'm glad to see you back, Mia. It wasn't the same around here without you. Don't go getting shot again, okay?"

Her mouth curved, her affection for the old man obvious. "I'll do my damnedest, Miles. Say hi to the missus." When Westphalen was gone, she looked up. He thought she'd press him on why he'd been so curt with the shrink. But she didn't, simply gathering her notes. "You ready to roll, Solliday? The faster we talk to the Doughertys and check out Penny Hill's house, the faster we can get to the files, which is my absolute favorite part of the job." Her sarcasm said it was anything but.