Seth Winters
I had eight files spread across the top of my desk, arranged in chronological order. Seven seemingly unrelated deaths. Most of the cases had already been closed. So why was I staring at them now? Because although the cases seemed unrelated, there were some disturbing similarities between the victims. I had the photos on top of each file. The girls were all young, between the ages of 14 and 19. Three were drug overdoses. One suicide. Asphyxiation. One died from exposure after she got lost in the woods. One had been stabbed to death, and neither the murderer or the murder weapon had ever been found. And now the latest, number eight, the hit-and-run. The girl hadn't died, but she fit the profile. Each girl had been a brunette, with remarkably similar features.
I ta
