Chapter 16
L ater that evening, Chloe sat on the corner of Hayes’s couch, one leg curled beneath her, a blanket draped over her shoulders, and a half-drained cup of coffee balanced on her thigh.
Hayes moved around the kitchen with easy efficiency, restocking the wood-burning stove and flipping through the local channels with the remote.
The house was quiet except for the low murmur of the news in the background and the soft hum of the refrigerator. After the day they’d had—discovery, suspicion, and yet another body—Chloe was grateful for the stillness. Even if her mind refused to join it.
“I can’t believe Dawson never found Stacey,” Chloe said. “Where the heck has she been hiding all day? This town is so small that there aren’t many nooks and crannies to get lost in.”
“Except for the Glades, and like I said, Stacey will do anything for a story, including spending time in the swamp.” Hayes shook his head. “During the Python Challenge, she hired some fool to take her out there at night because she thought Audra was doing something nefarious.”
“Did karma bite Stacey in the ass? That would have been fun to watch. I don’t remember seeing too much of Stacey’s face on the airwaves during that time.”
“That’s because she got pulled for reporting false information while she was trying to get back into her boss’s good graces.
But she never found anything on Audra. However, she did actually do a really good written piece about what happened to Audra’s dad, the whole drug thing, and Paul and his son’s arrest.”
“Are you giving that woman a compliment?”
Hayes shrugged. “Not to her face.” His kindness humbled her.
“Trent still cooperating with Dawson?” she asked, her voice rough from too much adrenaline and too little rest. “I don’t know if I was glad we didn’t find anything in his cabin, or bummed. While I don’t like the man, he didn’t get my hackles up like most killers do.”
“Trent’s not our guy. Dawson’s gonna slap him with fines, and he’ll end up going in front of a judge for this one, but ultimately, Dawson’s gonna let him go tonight.
” Hayes returned with a fresh mug of coffee and handed it to her.
“Remy will keep a close eye on him after that. Buddy checked in a little while ago. He said Trent’s answers track, and they don’t change.
Not even a little bit. He’s freaked about the killers.
He’s worried for his girlfriend’s sister, who is in that age range and cheated on her boyfriend.
Buddy said he looked scared shitless. I can’t imagine that man scared of anything. ”
“That doesn’t mean he’s innocent,” she muttered, blowing into the mug. “But it doesn’t make him look guilty either, which is almost more frustrating.”
Hayes sank onto the couch beside her, elbows on his knees. “He had a wedding ring wrapped in bloodstained cloth, Chloe. And the second it fell out of that bag, his whole face drained. Not like someone caught red-handed—more like someone who genuinely didn’t know it was there.”
She stared into her coffee. “Maybe he thought he got rid of it. Dumped it and forgot.”
“Maybe,” Hayes said. “But I don’t buy it, and I don’t think you do either.”
Chloe exhaled. “We have a name now. Janeeva Torres. Twenty-eight. Reported missing yesterday from a gas station twenty miles out. No cheating rumors, no partner at all. Not even a messy breakup. Nothing that matches the other victims. Our killer is cracking, and that makes him even more dangerous.” Chloe tapped her fingers against the mug, the rhythm tight and agitated.
“If our killer is changing things…why now? Why after thirty-five years? Then again, I can’t even say that with certainty—we don’t know what his actual pattern is.
We don’t have enough confirmed victims from the early years to connect the dots.
No clear picture, no consistent MO. And don’t get me started on motive,” she muttered, her voice edged with frustration.
“I don’t even know why he’s doing this in the first place.
Cheating isn’t enough. It’s a start, but there’s more to this twisted asshole. ”
Hayes leaned back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling like he could find the answer there.
“Let’s stick with what we know, and what we know has changed, because that’s important.
For years, he’d gone under the radar, and now he wants to be seen.
He wants to be heard. He needs to be known.
That’s new, and that’s really important,” Hayes said with conviction.
Chloe turned toward him, studying his strong profile. Just a few days ago, he would’ve qualified his statement. He wouldn’t have been confident in his abilities as an investigator.
The man had missed his calling.
“Go on,” she said.
“He left the ring in Trent’s pack—and Buddy agrees that it was placed.
Both he and Dawson looked at the bag and went over things a half dozen times with Trent.
Not to mention the way the rings were wrapped.
That’s deliberate. He left Janeeva’s body positioned near a bend where our tour airboats go.
We would’ve found her. Not to mention the couple of bone sites we saw—they were staged.
The bones were arranged so we’d find them.
All made worse by the fact that the placement was different than Cole’s pictures.
And if the MO is shifting, it’s because he wants us…
or someone specific… to feel…something. I don’t know what that is, but he’s got everyone paying attention.
He brought in Stacey, the media. It’s not a compulsion anymore—it’s a performance. ”
“It’s a very interesting way to put it.” She nodded slowly. “That would explain why Calusa Cove matters. It’s not just a place he dumps bodies—it’s the place where he feels… watched. Where he can watch us back.”
The TV changed in the background, and both of them turned their heads. Hayes adjusted the volume. It was Stacey’s late-night segment, her face too polished, too smug as she appeared onscreen.
“This can’t be good,” Chloe muttered. “I still can’t believe you dated her.”
“Trust me, I cringe every time I think about it.”
“Stacey Mohawk here with breaking developments in the ongoing investigation into what some are now calling the Ring Finger Murders. Just hours ago, sources tell us a new body was discovered in the Florida Everglades. Though officials have not released a statement, we’ve confirmed the discovery of a woman’s body not far from Calusa Cove. ”
Chloe bolted upright. “What the hell? That wasn’t released. Who gave her that?”
Stacey’s voice kept going, smooth and practiced.
“In addition, we’ve received exclusive confirmation that FBI Agent Chloe Frasier—currently on leave—is not only embedded in the investigation but may be facing termination from the Bureau due to ongoing insubordination and possible ethical violations. ”
Hayes stood. “That’s bullshit. The official word is you’re here as a consultant. Your boss made that statement. What the hell is she doing?”
But Stacey wasn’t done.
“Sources close to the investigation suggest that Frasier’s personal history may be further complicating her role.
A tipster alleges that the agent recently discovered her father may not be her biological parent.
Could that be why she’s so desperate to stay on the case?
Does the FBI know this, and how does it fit into this case, if at all? ”
Chloe’s mug hit the coffee table hard, sloshing liquid over the rim. “No. No, that’s not possible. That’s a blatant lie, and why would she…what would my parents…my dad…”
Her phone rang. She stared down at the screen.
Her father’s image flashed on the small screen on her cell. Her parents lived fifty miles away. They could’ve seen Stacey’s newscast.
She froze, the sound buzzing in her ears. She tried to shift all the pieces around in her mind and categorize this new insanity into one of the folders—nice and neat—but it didn’t fit…anywhere. It didn’t make sense.
“Are you going to answer that?” Hayes asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, heart hammering in her chest. “I don’t know if I want to know what he’s going to say. That had to have been hard for my dad to hear. A smear campaign like that, meant to hurt…me…but he and my mom are the collateral damage.”
The phone kept ringing.
And Chloe, who had spent her entire life chasing monsters, couldn’t shake the feeling that, this time, the truth wasn’t just staring her in the face—it was taunting her.
The phone buzzed in her hand, her father’s name lighting up the screen like a warning flare. Chloe hesitated, thumb hovering, until Hayes gently reached out and tapped the speaker icon for her.
He kissed her temple, wrapping his loving arms around her body.
“Dad?” she said, heart already pounding.
His voice came through calm. Too calm. “How did that reporter get that story? Where did her information come from?”
Chloe straightened in her seat. “It’s not a story, Dad.
She’s a lying, manipulative snake. My office has already filed an injunction on her for something else, but it hasn’t stopped her, and now she’s slandered me.
I’ll deal with it. I’m just sorry it’s going to rub off on you and Mom, especially with everything else that’s coming out now with Heather. ”
A pause.
Then, quietly, he said, “We always knew this might come out someday. We worried about it when Heather was murdered. Your mother and I fought like cats and dogs about whether or not we should say anything.”
Hayes pulled her closer.
Chloe’s breath caught. “Knew what might come out? Say something about what and to whom, Dad? What are you talking about?”
“After you were born, your mother and I decided never to talk about it. We had a fight—one of the worst we ever had. I left for about a month.” His voice wavered. “When I came back, she was pregnant. Said it was mine, but…we both knew it probably wasn’t, and I didn’t care.”