CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FOUR HOURS LATER NATHAN Thomas and Lizzie Zimmerman were at the Bronte police department, sitting across the conference room table from a very confused Grant Forrester.
Huh. That sketch was pretty spot on, Lizzie thought to herself. Only thing they didn’t get quite right was the weight. I’d say he’s about one fifty, one sixty, tops.
“Mr. Forrester,” Nathan began. “My name is Nathan Thomas, and I’m an FBI agent. Specifically, I head up the North Texas regional division of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
“You’re a profiler.”
“Yes sir. I am.” He indicated to his left. “This is Agent Zimmerman, one of my team members.”
Grant’s eyes flicked over to make contact with Lizzie’s.
“Nice to meet you both,” he said. “Although I’m not crazy about the circumstances. I presume you’
