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investigators were off and running, tracking down people and finding out more about Tim, Horton put in a call to Ed Moore, the SSPD detective who had taken Caroline’s initial call.
    “We’ve got a problem, Ed,” Horton told Moore. They had known each other for years, had worked cases together and respected each other immensely.
    “What’s going on, Jim?”
    “Well, I think we’ve got a homicide here with that Tim Rysedorph missing person case.”
    Moore went quiet. Saratoga Springs, a twenty-five minute trip up Interstate 787 from Albany, was an artsy type of refuge that horse fans flocked to during racing season. It was spread out and rural, with thick wooded areas; homicides weren’t something the SSPD had to think about all that much.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
    Horton gave Moore a quick rundown of his history with Evans, including his hunch that Evans might be involved with the disappearances of Michael Falco and Damien Cuomo. Moore said he’d put as many detectives as he could on the case, assisting the Bureau in any manner it needed.
    Horton finished speaking to Moore and sat down at his desk, staring at a mugshot photo of Evans he had pulled from a file, contemplating his next move. Evans, Horton realized, was playing a game. Horton could sense it. Evans had always liked to be one step ahead of him. If he was responsible for Tim’s death, Horton knew he was gone; they were wasting their time looking in the Capital District.
    As much as Horton didn’t want to admit it, having Evans back in his life was “exciting,” he later confessed.
    “I had spent a lot of my time watching him watch me—and vice versa. Gary always made my job more interesting.”
    By the same token, considering what Horton now knew, he didn’t view Evans as just another serial thief he had come to know throughout the years and developed a relationship with for the sake of the job.
    “With Tim Rysedorph,” Horton added, “I knew it was going to be the last time Gary and I tangled. I really felt he had crossed a line at this point and was a murderer. The stakes were much different when Tim turned up missing. It wasn’t about a game of cat and mouse anymore; it was possible Evans was a serial murderer, which I took very seriously.”
    Everything Horton had done for Evans (buying him food, stopping by his apartment just to say hello, getting him jobs) was done—ironically—with sincerity and deception. Horton cared about Evans, but he also kept tabs on him for law enforcement purposes.
    “It was part of the game, yes—but also my job.”
    Nevertheless, Horton knew Evans was a career criminal, and by nature would likely never change his ways. Ever since he suspected him of murdering Falco and Cuomo, Horton convinced himself that in order to get him to confess to everything—however horrific and brutal—he had to get into his head and gain his trust. There were even several unsolved murders in states Evans had visited that Horton had now suspected him of being involved in, but he had to play things out and allow Evans to admit to it all without being pressured.
    “If I got him to like me, I knew one day he would confide in me and tell me everything. When Tim turned up missing and Gary’s name became part of the investigation, I knew it was the beginning of the end for Gary. How did I know that?”
    Evans, Horton insisted, had warned him.
     
    Nathan “Bud” York, a Bureau investigator, found out on October 7, Tuesday, that the Wappingers Falls, New York, division of the Bureau had been involved in an investigation with the Massachusetts State Police (MSP) regarding a burglary. The theft had taken place at the Emporium, an antique shop in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, about an hour’s drive over the New York state line. Nine thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry, antique vases, ceramic plates, statues, paintings and other assorted items had been reported stolen back in March 1997.
    When Bud York explained to