CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
While Tate was busy scrambling his small forces, Mackenzie sped back to the motel to meet with Ellington. When she entered the room, she found him diligently sitting behind the laptop, looking through the FBI database just like she had asked him. He looked tired and frustrated, telling her without a word how the search was going.
“Nothing, I take it?” she asked.
“There’s plenty, actually,” he said. “But filtering through it all would take a team. And it would be a long, grueling process. How about you? Any movement?”
“It looks like we have a very solid lead,” she said. “Now it’s just a matter of finding him because he seems to have split his home within the last few days.”
“Any likely spots for his next victim?” Ellington asked.
“Just a few,” she said. “We’re loo
