Chapter 31: Assassin ≠ Serial Killer

“So, what are you trying to say?”
Mona and Lacey were confused, unable to grasp Roan’s meaning.
August, leaning on his chin, seemed deep in thought.
Roan gathered a few documents from beside Mona’s laptop, laying them out one by one, and began to explain:
“Look closely. After kidnapping the victims, the killer habitually uses their credit cards to buy toys, tortures them in their own homes, then uses the previous victim’s car to observe the next target, and finally employs the new victim’s vehicle to abduct the next.”
As they followed Roan’s finger through the files, Lacey seemed to understand, while Mona still hadn’t caught on. She tilted her head, puzzled:
“So? Roan, what are you getting at?”
“He means that after kidnapping Sabina, the killer will act according to his established routine!”
August suddenly realized, and Lacey clapped her hands:
“After the killer abducted Sabina, he must have gone to one of his usual haunts!”
“Exactly!”
Roan shot them an approving look and continued:
“See, after kidnapping the first victim, the killer tortured them in their own home without leaving with them. The second victim was also tortured in their bedroom at home. So…”
Mona finally understood, her eyes shining as she finished Roan’s thought:
“So after kidnapping Sabina, the killer is likely to go to Sabina’s home and torture her in her bedroom!”
Roan nodded. Unless a person consciously tries to change their habits, they tend to remain unchanged throughout their life.
Just as some people instinctively reach for a bite of food first, while others take a mouthful of rice.
These are subconscious, habitual actions.
This killer is a serial murderer, and all serial killers share one trait: a compulsion to repeat certain actions over and over.
Tying a specific knot, writing certain letters, drawing particular symbols, burying bodies in special locations… all habitual behaviors.
Behavior analysis courses in police academies use these patterns to teach students how to profile and hunt down killers.
Roan never took those courses, and as a former assassin, he couldn’t fathom the psychology of a deranged serial killer.
A hired killer and a serial murderer roaming the city are entirely different creatures.
But Roan could identify the killer’s habitual actions and deduce his next moves and intentions.

“To catch the killer with this method.”
With the analysis complete, Lacey went to the conference room and brought out Mr. Darrin. August spoke up immediately:
“Mr. Darrin, call your home phone right now and ask if anything unusual has happened.”
The villa in Greenwich where Sabina vanished was just for their honeymoon. Darrin and Sabina’s real home was in New York’s Upper East Side, an enclave of the rich.
“No!”
Before the bewildered Darrin could protest, Roan interrupted August:
“The killer won’t be there.”
August slapped his forehead, suddenly understanding.
In a place like the Upper East Side, crawling with wealthy residents, the NYPD patrols almost every minute. If anything odd happened there, it would’ve already been reported.
“So where is the killer?”
Mona and Lacey tilted their heads, wondering if they’d have to search every villa owned by Sabina and her husband.
“No, it’s not that complicated.”
Roan shook his head and turned to Darrin. After briefly explaining the analysis, Roan asked:
“Mr. Darrin, aside from the Greenwich villa for your honeymoon, is there any other house that holds special meaning for Sabina?
Or, perhaps, a place you both don’t often live in, but that comes up naturally when you chat about daily life?”
Relieved to hear his wife was likely still alive, Darrin’s expression softened, and he quickly pondered Roan’s question.
“Bear Mountain State Park, north of the Hudson River!”
After a moment, Darrin clapped his hands decisively:
“There’s a cabin not far from the park. That’s where Sabina and I played poker for the first time! It’s where we officially became a couple, and where I proposed to her!”
A cabin in the woods—it sounded ominous.
Roan was speechless, but now wasn’t the time for sarcasm. He turned to August and said:
“Sir, I’m heading to the cabin immediately.”
August didn’t object, and added:

“Lacey, go with him. If anything happens, contact me right away. I’ll send in the SWAT team for support.”
Right now, it wasn’t certain if the killer was hiding in the cabin; the SWAT team would only move once they had solid information.
“Understood, sir.”
Lacey stood up to follow Roan, but Darrin suddenly joined them:
“I’m coming too.”
Watching Darrin climb into the SUV behind Lacey, Roan couldn’t make sense of the man.
Was he so deeply in love with Sabina that he wanted to see her as soon as possible? Or did he dread the news of her death, knowing he’d only get three hundred thousand if she died…
“Forget it.”
Roan donned his tactical suit, helmet, body armor, grabbed smoke grenades and flashbangs, two Glock 18 pistols, a few extended magazines, and slid into the driver’s seat of the SUV. He looked sternly into the rearview mirror and addressed Darrin:
“Mr. Darrin, once we reach the cabin, Lacey and I will check the situation. You must stay in the car. Understood?”
“I understand.”
Darrin sat upright, acknowledging the danger:
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the car and won’t become the killer’s hostage.”
Roan rolled his eyes at Darrin’s bravado, but it didn’t matter—he had plenty of ways to keep Darrin in place.
The cabin was quite a distance from FBI headquarters in New York—an hour and a half by car. Roan didn’t hesitate, flooring the accelerator as the SUV shot forward.
Earlier, Mona had warned Lacey about Roan’s driving. Sitting in the passenger seat, Lacey had brushed it off. She’d ridden with Roan before; his driving seemed ordinary, nothing to fear.
But as the streetlights whipped past the windows, Lacey sucked in a breath, silently fastening her seatbelt. Glancing at Darrin, whose face had gone pale, she hesitated and asked:
“Roan, we have time… maybe you could slow down?”
Roan gave her a meaningful look:
“Relax. I may drive fast, but I’m always steady.”
The next second, the dark SUV shot forward like a black bolt of lightning, heading straight for the intersection crowded with cars waiting at the red light!