Fatal Exhibit

On her first case with the task force she gambled her career to join, FBI Agent Jane Cannon catches a homicide that won't sit right. The scene is swept clean. The body is arranged under a pool of light. A graphite pencil has been left behind like a signature.

These aren't crime scenes. They're compositions.

Jane names him the Curator. He drugs his subjects, works slowly, and keeps a piece of each one. A toe. An eye. A length of flawless skin.

But the dead were never the point. What he wants is what he leaves behind — a young wife on the news, holding their baby, begging for a husband who won't come home. He took the husband so he could watch her break.

Now he wants her, too.

With nothing tying a quiet, forgettable man to a single body, Jane has to prove what she already knows. Before he finishes the piece he started.

Because he isn't killing to feed a hunger.

He's killing to be seen.