Chapter Nine Brad #2
“Nothing stands out.” Bree backed the video up, and we rewatched frame by frame all of Shelly’s interactions.
“All right, let me switch to Maggie Deloitte.” I watched as her video popped up, and again, nothing seemed to stand out.
“Is it possible he’s got it in his mouth?
Like something that shoots out as he speaks? ”
“No.” I couldn’t see that happening. “It’s too dangerous—he’d risk ingesting it himself.” I rubbed my head. “All right, let’s study the videos we got from Sophia and Maria.”
Again, not one person stood out. Not even an eye shift.
It was frustrating. I had been sure we’d get something.
I leaned in closer to the TV as I watched Maria pass right by Maggie as she stumbled toward the entrance.
“Go back to that,” I called to Bree, “right there.” She skipped the video back and hit play again.
On the screen, someone reached for a free sample of the beer she was offering.
“Wait.” I tilted my head and scratched my chin. “Back up like fifteen seconds.” She did, and I saw it. There was a definite green color on the thumbnail that reached for the drink.
“Ha!” I slapped my knee and pointed at the screen.
“Son of a bitch.” Bree leaned forward. “Given the angle, he watched her leave.”
“Assuming that’s him.” I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.
“It is, Brad, I know it!” Bree sounded certain.
“I agree.” I moved to the whiteboard and drew two lines from both girls to the center and wrote green thumbnail. “If anything, it’s a strong lead.”
“Now what?”
“Now we talk to Cap and show him what we know, and hope Mr. Greenthumb shows himself again.” I stepped back to take in the board as a whole. “And we start to dig on exactly where that butterfly root moss is sold here in the US.”
“Isn’t it strange—” She leaned back and pressed her lips into a straight line as she thought. “Somethin’ bothers me here.”
“What?” I liked how Bree’s head worked. She was smart and thought everything through thoroughly.
She twisted toward me on the couch as I sat down next to her. “If this powder is inhaled, wouldn’t that be risky? Other people around his victim might get sick, or at least have symptoms. Or even die.”
“I thought of that, too, when you were reading off Wes’s notes. I believe if this guy is spraying it right in his victims’ faces, it sure lines up with the bartender’s story and how he also got sick. He just got the tiniest bit.”
“If that’s the case, does it change anything?”
I rubbed my chin. “It gives us a whole new series of questions to ask the clubbers who were there those nights.”
“Wouldn’t that risk the killer finding out we’re onto him?”
“Yeah, and it might even flush him out. More than anything, I’d like to hear everyone’s answer. People who have something to hide either say too little or too much.”
Her gaze drifted back to the board as we let this new direction sink in. “What about—”
Bang!
Bree nearly jumped right out of her skin as a gunshot echoed into the night. “I hope that was thunder!” Her eyes were like saucers as I grabbed my gun from the table and moved to the window and carefully peeked out. It was too dark and stormy to see much. “Can you see anything?”
“No.” I squinted into the stormy darkness, and a lightning strike jolted across the sky and lit up our property across the way.
Oh no! My stomach sank like a bowling ball, and I grabbed my boots and rushed toward the door.
I didn’t have to see to know what the hell was probably going on.
I had been through this a few times now since he’d been back.
“Stay here, and lock the door behind me,” I ordered and closed the door as Bree said something.
I jumped into ankle-deep mud and beat my arms at my sides as I sprinted across the property.
Another shot rang into the storm. As I got closer, lightning lit up the entire place, and I saw him.
I could only imagine what was going through his head.
I swiped the rain from my face as I picked up speed and headed into the field toward him.
“Ronnie!” I yelled, but the storm was too wild, and he was clearly not in this world.
He was in a whole other universe, facing God only knew what.
As I got closer, I saw his face. His eyes were wild as he whipped his head around.
Then he put Dad’s hunting rifle up to his eye and expertly moved it around as he looked for the enemy.
The cords in his neck stood out like thick ropes in his torment.
I quickly assessed the situation and figured the safest play was to join him in his moment rather than try to pull him back.
“Captain Stone!” I yelled as I army crawled toward him. I acted as if I was staying low for cover. “The eagle’s en route. Hold your position.”
“Identify yourself!” he yelled back and pointed the weapon at me.
“Corporal Brad Stone, sir. Alpha Company.”