Riptide

this instant, hiding in the pine trees, but
    I don't think even he is that reckless. We'll get him, Becca. You have
    to believe that. He'll pay for what he did to Linda Cartwright."
    "Oh, God," she said suddenly. "You're right, Adam, he is watching.
    Maybe he's a goodly distance away and using binoculars, but I
    don't think so. I'll bet he's just over there, somewhere in those
    trees, and I think he watched you climb through that window,
    watched me come out here and puke up my guts. You said he was
    finally realizing who he is, what he likes, and this is it."
    Her eyes went blank, then she said, "He's seen Tyler and Sam.
    Oh God, he knows I'm close to them and doesn't that make them
    targets, too? What if he goes after them?"
    "He could, but I doubt it and here's why. He knows we're not
    fools. He knows there are a lot of us. He wants you. He's made his
    point. I can't see him veering off course to kill Tyler or Sam. Why?
    He wants to nail me, but I'm with you, staying with you, taunting
    him. That's why he wants me. Now, Dave and Chuck will start
    looking around here when they finish in the house."
    "He'll be gone by then."
    "Probably."
    "Do you think he killed her in those short minutes between
    when he called me and all the men got here?"

Adam hesitated, then shook his head. "No, she'd been dead for
    several hours, at least."
    "But her face, Adam, her face. It looked--fresh, even though all
    the blood looked dried and clotted."
    "He did that after he called you, after he realized the phone was
    tapped. She was already dead, Becca."
    "How did he kill her?"
    Adam didn't want to say anything more about it, but he knew
    she wasn't going to let it go, she couldn't let it go. "He strangled
    her."
    "Why was there dirt all over her? God, it was even on her feet,
    in her hair."
    Oh, shit, he thought. He didn't want to say it but there was no
    choice. "There was dirt on her because he dug her up to smash her
    face." There, it was said, and he thought she was going to vomit
    again. She closed her eyes, her arms fell to her sides, and her head
    dropped forward against his chest. But she didn't vomit, she cried,
    making no sound at all, just cried, her hands fists against his Kevlar
    vest.
    "Oh, God, Becca," he said and squeezed her hard. "I swear I'll
    get him, I swear it."
    She said nothing for a very long time. His knees were starting to
    hurt when she finally whispered against his neck, "Not if I can get
    him first." She shuddered, then he felt her stiffen and slowly, slowly
    pull back from him. She said, "He was through with her, probably
    planning on leaving here, and so he killed her and buried her and
    then decided it would be fun to play this big joke on me."
    "Yeah, that's about the size of it."
    "He's still here, Adam. He's close. I can feel him. It's like something
    very black and heavy crawling over my skin."
    He said nothing.

"But why? I just don't understand why he picked me. Why is he
    doing this to me?"
    Again, Adam said nothing, but he thought, If Krimakov is really
    dead, then there isn't a motive, and I don't have the foggiest idea, either,
    why he picked you.

    Becca couldn't get Linda Cartwright out of her mind, she kept
    picturing her, lying there, her face smashed, and no one to take care
    of her for hour upon hour.
    Sherlock handed her a cup of coffee, steam rising from the mug
    like cigarette smoke. "You only slept a couple of hours, Becca.
    Here, drink this."
    "None of us slept for more than a couple of hours," Becca said.
    "Where are Adam and Savich?"
    "Adam is out talking to Dave and Chuck. They just took over
    outside patrol. He's going to get some other people here, some of
    his own people, to free up these guys."
    "Maybe Hatch is coming." At Sherlock's raised eyebrow, Becca
    added, "I heard Adam talking to him on the phone. Yeah, I was
    eavesdropping, so Adam had to tell me. He said Hatch speaks six
    languages, has lots of contacts, is really smart, and smokes. Adam is
    always trying to get him to stop smoking by threatening to fire
    him."
    Sherlock laughed and lifted her mug to toast Becca's. "I want to
    meet this guy. If he dares to light up a cigarette, Savich won't
    threaten to fire him, he'll take his head off."
    "So Adam doesn't work for Thomas?"
    "No, not now. They've been friends for a very long time. Adam is
    sort of like a son to Thomas. No, I won't tell you any more about
    him."

Becca didn't say anything.
    "Listen, Becca, it doesn't matter right now. Now, my husband is
    concerned