Page 67 of Her Frozen Heart

Nikki couldn’t tell if her strength was coming back or if anger and adrenaline had propelled her to a sitting position. “Why didn’t you just write it down before you went to die on the beach?”

“Because I should be studied, but no one will do that if I’m forgotten or hidden away like a dirty family secret.” Roth offered her a glass of water, but Nikki refused. “By the way, everything I’ve told you about Monday and my impressions of the killer are true.”

“You were talking about yourself,” Nikki said.

“Exactly. But I am a big fan of Monday’s. His suicide was a complete failure by law enforcement. His mind should have been protected.” Roth shifted on the bed, his hand on his crotch. “If only I could have got to him before that happened.”

Nikki swallowed the bile in her throat. “Is Parker Jameson alive?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you wanted to be remembered as even more deranged than Isaac Monday, and Parker was dead in that photo.”

“Ding, ding.” Roth tapped his index finger on his nose. “Parker was an unfortunate choice, however. I hadn’t intended to take any action until the results of my scans came back. I’d already chosen him—he was quite beautiful in life, like an androgynous model—and that day I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“You’re a sexual sadist who enjoys both men and women,” Nikki said through gritted teeth. “Are you as forthright in your professional life?”

Roth snorted. “Of course not. It raises too many questions. My colleagues think I’m too focused on my research to date.”

“You don’t want a relationship, you want power and control,” Nikki said.

“That’s it.” Roth stood up and paced the small bedroom. “That’s why you’re the only choice. We have history, you know.”

“I swear to God, if you’re going to tell me you’re another long-lost relative—”

“No, no.” Roth sat back down again, his heel bouncing against the floor. “April 1992. The misery of my freshman year at Stillwater High School was coming to an end. The teacher didn’t like my drawings. While I waited to talk to the principal, one of the most popular girls in our class was getting chewed out for skipping that morning.”

Nikki could nearly feel the color leaving her face. “That was… are you…”

“Manny the dirty Greek. At least, that’s what everyone called me. Except you.”

“No, it wasn’t because you were Greek,” Nikki said. “Back then, people called your family gypsies. They’d peddle stuff during town carnivals and other events. People said they were grifters.” Had his last name been Roth back then? Nikki only remembered the nasty names kids used to call him.

“Do you know that in addition to being offensive, the word ‘gypsy’ is a misnomer?” Roth asked. “When my ancestors originally came from the Punjab region of India to Greece, people assumed they were from Egypt. But we are not. We’re Roma. But the Greeks persecuted us, and so many decided to try their luck in this new world. As you know, it wasn’t much different. Roma were transient groups, ushered out by the police, never accepted. My maternal grandparents were Swedish immigrants who loathed my father. His choice to run off after my sister’s death only proved them right about Roma, at least to their eyes. That’s all I was, despite my Swedish heritage they’d passed on.”

“Your sister’s remains are in the towel.” At least Nikki had been right about that.

“They loved her because she looked like she’d stepped off the proverbial boat from Sweden. White-blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin. Even though I had fairer skin, too, I’m able to tan. So I was always, compared to my father, the dirty gypsy Greek. She was the only one who accepted me for who I was, though.”

“Why did you kill her?” Nikki asked.

“She was going to leave, run off with her dumb boyfriend. I didn’t matter anymore.”

“What about the next victim?”

“You’ll have to narrow it down, Agent Hunt.”

“There are others besides the ones who were buried in the grave?”

“Oh yes, I didn’t go back there until I returned to the area several years ago.” Roth smiled at her. “You know, that’s one of the reasons I agreed to consult with Hernandez. I needed to confirm you were the right one to bare my soul to, as it were.” He reached into his pocket and Nikki froze. “I want you to take this, keep it in your pocket.” Roth handed her a flash drive. “I filled out the same questionnaire I give to convicted killers. I also included a victims list. I don’t know most of their names, but I know where I took them from and where I left them. That way, when they find you, your colleagues will still give you credit for cracking the case.”

Nikki felt frozen with fear, but her mind raced. She had to buy time until she could figure a way out of this mess. “Tell me your story, then. Before you kill me. Let me understand you before I die. Please give me that small mercy.”

Roth seemed to debate the idea, his fingers too close to her legs. “Agent Hunt, you realize I know you’re stalling.”

“I also deserve answers.” She glared back at him. She wasn’t going down without a fight. He wanted to kill her and escape with infamy.

“Very well,” he said, enjoying the spotlight. “After my sister’s death, I was satisfied for a while, and then the desire just built and built until I couldn’t handle it anymore.” Roth leaned closer. “That day in the principal’s office, you asked me about my drawings, but I let you assume they were only sexual. I’m sure you can deduce they were much more than that. In fact, I acted on the drawing that got me in trouble just a few days later. I believe that case is still unsolved to this day. But don’t worry, it’s in the flash drive. Have you met John Douglas, the great FBI profiler?”

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