The Missing Pattern

In the Crosshairs Part 5

The weight of the case hung over me like a storm cloud as I reviewed the latest details in my office, my focus shifting between maps, reports, and a web of pins marking the sites of each disappearance. Twelve girls in less than two weeks—it was unfathomable, but the pattern was there, mocking me with its precision.

I pushed back in my chair, the tightness in my chest growing. The voices of my team hummed around me, urgent and tense. Calvin was already leaning over the maps, his face hardened as he studied the points. Reese and Yang were discussing logistics, their tones clipped as they made plans for surveillance.

The latest disappearance had come in from Oildale. Li Ming Yen, age fourteen, Asian. Gone just like the others, right by her school. She was part of this horrifying sequence. As I clenched my fists around the edge of my desk, I couldn't shake the dread creeping in. This was no accident. Whoever was behind this had planned every move.

I looked at Calvin. "It's an organized rotation. They're abducting these girls in a specific sequence—African American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian—all between thirteen and sixteen years old. It's planned, and it's fast."

Calvin nodded grimly. "It's more than fast—it's methodical. They're not just taking girls at random. There's a reason behind the diversity angle, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Whatever it is, it's intentional. They're filling a profile, and this isn't some spur-of-the-moment spree. This is procurement." The word felt cold on my lips, but it was the only one that made sense. This was a network, and it was carefully feeding a demand.

Reese broke the silence, her expression fierce. "If they're following a pattern, then that means we have a slim window. If we move now, we have a chance to intervene before the next girl goes missing."

"Agreed," I said, locking eyes with her. "We know the high schools they've targeted so far. We'll pinpoint the next likely one and get surveillance set up around it. Reese, coordinate with the school administrators in Bakersfield, but keep it quiet—we don't want to set off any alarms just yet." I turned to Yang. "I want every precinct in a 20-mile radius on alert. They need to be watching all public areas—schools, parks, bus stops, anywhere these girls might be traveling. If they see anything even remotely out of place, they report it."

Yang nodded and immediately started firing off messages to the precincts, his focus as sharp as mine.

Calvin's voice cut through the tension. "There's something else. I've been looking over these reports, and if they're operating at this level, they probably have inside access. Someone could be feeding them information on these girls' routines, who's vulnerable, who might be an easy target."

He was right. This operation was too smooth, too calculated. They weren't just guessing. Someone on the inside was tipping them off. "We need a list of anyone in the schools who would know the girls' schedules and after-school activities. Teachers, volunteers, even custodians—anyone with access. I want to know who they are."

I barely finished my sentence when my phone buzzed in my hand. The vibration startled me, a shiver shooting up my spine as I checked the screen. Another disappearance alert—Sofia Ramirez, fifteen, Hispanic. Taken from Delano, just outside our area.

I exhaled sharply, the bitter taste of frustration filling my mouth. "Sofia Ramirez. Hispanic, fifteen years old. She went missing last night after leaving school."

"That's twelve girls now, Kitty," Calvin said, his tone low and tense. "We're seeing a new one every day, like clockwork. This isn't just some disorganized ring. It's a machine, and it's moving faster than we are."