Page 24 of 44.1644° North

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Page 24 of 44.1644° North

“BAU. Behavior Analysis Unit.”

That took me aback. “You think a serial killer grabbed Deirdre?”

“We deal with a lot more than serial killings. Our focus is the behavior and psychology of violent criminals, with the ultimate aim of prediction and prevention.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s a no. We—my boss—is confident we’re not looking at a serial killer.”

“How often is your boss wrong?”

Rory gave a short laugh. “I’m sure he’s been wrong, but he hasn’t been wrong so long as I’ve been working with him.”

“Great. Because I don’t believe any serial killer is responsible for whatever happened to Deirdre.”

“See? We’re already on the same page.”

“Also, there’s a good chance that whoever doctored my drink last night—assuming that’s what happened and I’m not coming down with the flu or something—it isn’t necessarily connected to Deirdre. What I mean is, not directly connected. This particular internet community has a few…”

“Weirdos?”

“I was going to say idiosyncratic personalities.”

“It’s okay, you can say weirdos. You can also say you suspect one of the weirdos spiked your drink. I agree. I think there’s an even chance someone gave you a Mickey Finn out of spite or because they thought it would be funny.”

I believed he might be right, but he seemed to think I needed more convincing.

“You have a room full of immature and dysfunctional personalities drinking and arguing for hours on end. It’s not a complete surprise if someone acts out.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

It seemed he did not. “Add to that the fact that you seem to get under the skin of a few of your online peers.”

Rory’s assessment was blunt and unflattering, but probably an accurate reflection of law enforcement’s view of amateur sleuths as a whole and the Deirdre O’Donnell community in particular.

I said, “I think partly it’s being a teacher. Not everyone leaves our educational systems with great experiences.” Or even an education. “You still have people mad at their ninth-grade home room teacher.”

“It’s the age of alternate facts,” Rory said. “Nobody likes anyone thinking they know more than they do, let alone having the audacity to openly challenge some dearly held belief. There seem to be a lot of dearly held beliefs in this case.”

No kidding. Including the one where space aliens grabbed Deirdre. Or the one where she’d been nabbed by a clan of roving survivalists hunting for womenfolk.

“Am I right in thinking Peter Weber is the accepted authority for a lot of web sleuths?”

“He’s a polarizing figure, but I’d say he’s got more supporters than detractors. Especially on the platforms.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning his staunchest supporters are other podcast hosts and bloggers and YouTubers.”

“Versus the average viewer/listener/audience member?”

“Exactly.”

“You never call him out by name, but a lot of your theories challenge his. That seems to be what riles people.”

Rory hadn’t been bullshitting about catching a few of my podcasts—and Weber’s too, it seemed.

“It’s because he’s a published author. The idea that a mainstream publisher would invest significant money in Weber’s theories lends credibility to those theories. For a lot of people that’s major validation. Not just for Weber. For the whole community.”