Silence: The Faces of Evil Christmas Prequel Read Free

the profile on the unsub and advised on a course of action for those investigating the case. Bedford and the locals had turned Warrenton upside down in an attempt to find the missing women. Hotlines were still open for anyone who might have information.
    No one wanted a sociopath like Aniston to get away with one final blow by refusing to give up the location of his other victims.
    “Are we taking another stab at getting more information from Potter or from Aniston?” Jess crossed her legs to prevent her heel from tapping with her mounting anticipation. She would love the opportunity to square this for all involved.
    If—enormous if—those women were still alive, they needed rescuing . If they weren’t, the families deserved the opportunity to provide a proper burial. Jess wanted a chance to make one or the other happen.
    “Aniston’s not going to talk.” Gant heaved an exasperated breath. “Agent Bedford believes Potter knows more than she’s shared so far. Taylor agrees. I spoke with the lead detective and the prosecutor. We’re all on the same page. You,” Gant set his full attention on Jess, “might be able to connect with Potter. You’re not a field agent anymore, Harris, but I need you to make this happen.”
    Jess barely suppressed the urge to jump up and do a little victory dance. “Is there reason to believe Potter might be an accomplice?”
    Gant mulled over her question. “That’s a possibility but no evidence has been found linking her to the women. No proof she was aware of Aniston’s activities.”
    Something else for Jess to find out. “Will I be working with local law enforcement?”
    Jurisdiction belonged to local law enforcement. At times the situation could prove a little prickly. She’d learned long ago that a thick skin was far more practical than a large ego. Rescuing or recovering the victims and solving the case were always the top priorities. As a profiler the goal was the same, she just tackled the case from a different angle with someone else doing the legwork. But she had plenty of experience in the field. If a road trip and an interview were in order, she was game.
    Gant shook his head. “We’ve all agreed, this is your show, Harris. I want you to talk to Potter one-on-one. She’s a woman, you’re a woman. That could make all the difference.”
    Funny how being a woman suddenly mattered in the grand scheme of things. “I appreciate the opportunity to help, sir.”
    “Your interview skills were one of your strongest assets in the field,” Gant commented. “I’m convinced you’re just what we need to give these families the closure they deserve.”
    “I’ll set up an appointment with Ms. Potter right now.” Jess stood. “For today if possible.”
    “I was hoping you’d say that.” Gant pushed to his feet. “With the holidays I wasn’t sure about your plans.”
    She smiled. “Work is my plan, sir.”
    Gant cocked an eyebrow. “You and I should talk about that. Soon. We all need a vacation from time to time, Harris. Even those who aspire to be super heroes.”
    Her smile widened. “Thank you, sir. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
     
    Warrenton, Virginia, 3:30 p.m.
    Jess banged on the rickety door a third time before a female voice shouted for her to come in. There had been no answer at the house so Jess had moseyed on around to the garage turned workshop in the backyard. The car registered to Potter had been in the driveway. Made sense she was around here somewhere.
    Grasping the knob, Jess gave it a twist. The door opened with hardly any effort. Inside, the pump and churn of a potter’s wheel provided background noise to the fifty-three year old woman’s deft hands on the clay. Jess couldn’t help wondering if the lady had chosen her occupation because of her name. Maybe it was a family trade handed down through the generations.
    Delia Potter was unmarried and had no children. A former school bus driver, she had been unemployed for the past fourteen