Now it was time to get that kid a Coke.

He didn't want to be seen alone.

"LET me give you the rundown on this guy," Agent Bell said to the rookie seated across from him. He then leaned forward and flipped open a file he'd pulled from his briefcase.

The rookie spoke up. "The media first gave him the name, is that right?"

"Yep," Bell said. He flipped through a couple pages, then muttered, "The Nose Eater." He studied a page intently for a few seconds. He said finally, "California Highway Patrol picked up the name from the reporters and it stuck."

The young rookie, officially known as Agent Mark Svenson, watched in awe as the older agent pawed through a few of the files on the desk. Svenson was excited about being chosen for the FBI's Serial Crime Unit. He was glad now that he'd put in enough study and training to graduate from the Bureau's National Academy at the top of his class. This was what it was all about. He could see himself giving the same briefing to another agent a few years down the road. Going through files. Comparing paperwork. Digging up important facts from a computer related to whatever case he was on at the time. And then there was the field work. Tracking the criminal. Nabbing the criminal.

"What do you know about sociopaths?" Bell said abruptly.

Svenson's eyes shot up from where they'd fallen on the open file. "Sociopaths?" he said. "Well, I watch the X-Files."

Bell narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," Svenson choked. "It was a joke."

Bell smiled for the first time.

"It's okay. I might seem like an old ogre, but really I can joke too. I've been doing this job for a long time but I've never let it get to me. My wife on the other hand. . ." His voice trailed off with a hint of humor. His face grew stern again. "So, anyway, answer the question."

Svenson searched his memory for a moment. He said."We were schooled on the makeup of known sociopaths. Who they are. What drives them."

"Good. 'Cause that's what we're dealing with here." Bell paused momentarily, his eyes searching the rookie's. "This guy's already killed fourteen people. The Serial Crime Unit's been all over the case for the last four months and people are still turning up dead. This guy's good."

"How sure are you that it's the same guy?" Svenson said. "I mean, it might be more than one if people are still getting killed."

"It's him. The same guy. Every body that's turned up—be it alongside the highway, or face up in the Sacramento River Delta—the nose has been torn off. Teeth marks all over the victim's face. The same as the latest victim discovered a few days ago in the Fiat—it too had the tell-tale markings of human canines as all the others."

From his training Svenson knew this to be the sociopath's signature. The sociopath wanted authorities to know that one man was behind all the killings. He did this by leaving an imprint of his presence on the scene of each body. A sociopathic killer might burn off the hair of his victims. Another might remove the arms. Svenson found it comical that the killer they were after apparently eats noses.

He fought back a laugh.

"As you well know," Bell said, "we've put together the suspect poses as a hitchhiker. Once given a ride, he murders the driver and takes their vehicle.