Page 102 of Choosing Us

“Okay, Harlow. Take a breath. Take a step back and think—who fits that profile in your life?” Tara calmly redirects my thought process.

“Bring up the DNA profile again, please.” Mason has it on the screen before I even finish my request.

“It’s going to be someone that’s invested in your career in some capacity. Maybe a colleague, a teacher, a mentor?” Walker offers.

“It’s … I think it’s…” A chill goes down my spine. “It’s Dr. Graham Tremblay.” Despite my instincts telling me the theory is true, my stomach clenches.

“And who is he to you?” Kelly asks.

“I met Graham when I was getting my bachelor’s at Harvard. I was twelve, and he was a PhD candidate—a teaching assistant for one of my intro to psych classes. Over the years, our paths would cross. He … he was consulted on the structure of the CPM grid.”

I’m going to be sick.

He was right in front of me all this time.

Was he watching me?

“Hold on. He met you when you were twelve? Was he ever inappropriate with you?” Kelly is ready to flip the table.

“No, not at all. I was a child prodigy, and most people didn’t quite know what to make of me, so even social interactions were limited. Graham was just a TA. I don’t think we even interacted that much until our residencies overlapped for a little bit at MGH in Boston, but that was almost a decade later.”

I can’t recall him ever being inappropriate with me, not then, not ever.

“Did he ever ask you out, or make any kind of implication that he was interested in you as more than friends?” Mason asks.

“No, he … wait. Yes, he did ask me out once, but I hadn’t seen him in three or four years? There was no spark for me beyond professional colleagues, so I respectfully declined. I didn’t want to lead him on or confuse our professional connection. He’s a brilliant man.” Did I misread that? Did I miss something? I had to have missed something with him.

But just because he is brilliant does not mean he is good.

Graham? Tweed-sweater-vest-wearing Graham is a serial killer? This doesn’t make sense with what I know about him, but when I look at what we know about the killer, then overlay it mentally with what I know about Graham, it … it does fit.

In both my personal and professional life, I’ve witnessed how assumptions can easily mislabel someone. If someone is wealthy, it doesn’t necessarily mean they are a good or bad person, but people tend to bring their own personal biases, trying to create a connection between an individual’s wealth and their character.

But the two are not related.

And in this case, just because an individual is brilliant, it does not mean they are a good person.

“Do you remember when he asked you out?” Tara asks as she pulls her long curly hair into a high pony—a signature move she does when things are getting intense.

“It was at a conference right before…” I’m going to be sick. My eyes widen at the realization of the dates, and my voice is barely above a whisper. “Before I joined the BAU.”

Tara’s eyes soften empathetically. “That timeline matches our first victim Vanessa Anderson, and it was in Boston where you said you were at that time, right?”

I nod. “The conference I saw him at was in Boston as well. I think he’s been in Boston the entire time. He travels a little for work, speaking, guest lecturing, just like most of us in the field do.”

“Is that why he could have been in California and Nevada?” Kelly points at the dates of those kills.

“I’m not sure about the Nevada killing three years ago, but … I know he was in California in January around the time the victim in Escondido was found.”

“How would you know that?” Walker asks.

“I was supposed to be there. It was the Annual Forensic Psychology Symposium in San Diego that I was scheduled to speak at and why I couldn’t be at Savannah and Theo’s wedding.” I feel the blush on my cheeks from talking about my personal life like this in front of my team in a meeting. “But then I had to cancel my appearance because I got pulled for a case that needed me in Phoenix.”

“And there’s the trigger for him to kill again. He thought he was going to see you in person, and when you didn’t show up, it sent him spiraling,” Kelly says it as Walker glares at him. “What? I’m not saying it’s her fault. It’s not her fault! Harlow, look at me. It is NOT your fault!”

I slowly nod. “I know that logically, but I still … how was he right in front of me all of this time, and I didn’t see this?”

“That’s not on you, Harlow. That’s on him. And now, we have a very solid suspect for The Carnation Killer. Mason, how’s that background looking?” Walker is in full-command mode, and I think it’s what I need right now.