Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Zoe dumped the entire jar of maple syrup over her waffles. Saliva pooled in her mouth and pangs of hunger rocked her stomach. She didn’t stop until the waffle was soaked and soggy.
“Looks healthy,” Aiden said dryly as he dug into his quinoa salad, which made Zoe suppress a gag.
“At least I feel good,” she muttered. Her eyes darted to the impenetrable, green wall of trees surrounding the diner. Somewhere Amy was getting tortured and if Zoe didn’t find her soon, she would receive another tingling riddle.
Lisa was out with the entire force, covering more ground in the area around where Amy was abducted and coordinating with the other counties.
“I told Ethan to get Amy’s phone records and canvass the area,” Zoe said. “Adam was watching.”
“I saw that.”
“Why did the killer take Amy?”
“Annabelle and Jackie stole the prototype. Jackie’s decision to kill Annabelle wasn’t driven solely by greed or betrayal, it was psychologically rooted.
The triggering event appears to be the death of her brother in the fire, which acted as a trauma activator for underlying psychopathic tendencies.
” He drummed his fingers on the table. “They were partners, so Jackie must have easily lured Annabelle and pulled one on her. But then someone killed Jackie the exact same way.”
“Why Amy? Because she’s Jackie’s sister?”
He stroked his jaw. “Amy is a high-status woman—confident, educated, and successful. Perhaps the killer’s sense of identity is so fragile, female agency becomes a threat to his core self.”
“Someone must have known what Jackie did to Annabelle, which is why he hunted Jackie in a similar way.”
“Someone like Adam who knew Annabelle,” Aiden suggested.
“Or David Harrington. Maybe he planted the idea of the prototype theft. There are rumors about familial conflict.”
“But we can’t touch David Harrington without further proof. He’s already lawyered up.”
“Do you think he’ll stop?”
“Who?”
She made an obvious face. “The killer.”
“Oh.” He thought about it. “I’m surprised actually.
His last riddle about where Jackie’s body was rang with finality.
Last step taken, last stage set. No reset, no second bet.
Final round, final scene. He literally said in the riddle to find her where the game turns clean .
Where it all began. He wasn’t subtle that Jackie was the end. ”
“But then what changed his mind?”
“The thrill of the hunt.”
Her stomach turned to ice. “He’s hooked?”
He nodded. “Unless there is a specific reason to take Amy—a personal vendetta or Amy somehow discovered his identity. He took her because torturing and killing Jackie was too much fun. Either way, we might have a longer window to find her.”
“Why do you think that?” She idly glanced at a group of teenagers as they sat huddled in a booth behind Aiden and took their phones out and ordered fries for the table.
“Because he’s going to have to think twice about where to leave the body. Fun House was the final destination. A full-circle moment. He’ll likely hunt for a place that has some significance.”
Zoe opened her mouth when one of the teenager’s voices cut through her train of thought.
“No, listen, I’m telling you. This is just like what happened in 1995,” a girl said, leaning forward, eyes wide.
Across from her, a girl in an oversized hoodie rolled her eyes, sipping her milkshake. “Dude, you weren’t even alive in 1995. It was a fire in the haunted house. Not random women going missing.”
Zoe and Aiden locked eyes. She strained her ears to listen to the conversation.
“I know, but I’ve been listening to that podcast— Buried Hollow. They’re covering this and said that the second woman was found in Fun House, and her uncle, Michael, was a victim of the original fire.”
The third teen, scrolling through his phone, nudged his screen toward them. “Tell me this isn’t creepy. Someone on Reddit has a thread tracking down all the family members of the fire victims.”
The girl took the phone and huffed. “Why do they even care so much?” She tossed the phone back. “It was an accident decades ago. This town needs a hobby.”
“What if someone’s coming after the descendants?” The first boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Or—” He grinned. “Do you think I can predict the next victim?”
“You’ve been watching too many Netflix documentaries,” the girl muttered, pushing her fries toward him.
The boy grinned but didn’t argue.
“Everyone’s an armchair sleuth now,” Zoe tsked.
Her phone vibrated. “Just got back the particulate evidence from Jackie’s clothes.
” Her eyes scanned the report. She wasn’t expecting much—Jackie’s autopsy report was standard.
But then her eyes caught something unusual buried in the trace evidence section.
“They found a canine hair sample on her jeans. Silver-gray, approximately two centimeters. A borzoi breed.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “A borzoi? That’s not a breed you see every day. Expensive. Rare. Selective owners.”
A thought itched in the back of her mind. “Jackie doesn’t own a dog. It must have come from the killer, then?”
“You know who could afford a dog like that? David Harrington.” A slow smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.
“We didn’t see any dogs at his place.”
“Did you see how big their property was? Can we look at the city’s pet ownership registry?”
“We’d need a subpoena. No time for that.
” Her thoughts were tumbling ahead. “I have an idea.” She did a quick search for pet groomers in the area.
There was only one. “If this guy owns an expensive dog like a borzoi, he’s definitely taking him to a groomer.
” The phone rang thrice before an elderly lady answered.
“Madeleine’s Canine Boutique. How can I help you?” She sounded like someone who wore cashmere cardigans and pearl necklaces.
“Hi there!” Zoe said cheerfully. “I was thinking of getting a borzoi and wanted to know if you guys work with that breed. I’d like to, you know, make sure I find the right groomer before I commit.”
“Yes, we groom borzois, but we’re appointment-only. And they’re not a breed you just… pick up on a whim.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve done my research,” she said smoothly. “I actually ran into someone in town with a stunning borzoi. Not sure of his name, but the dog had this incredible silver-gray coat. Thought I’d call around and see where he might take it for grooming.”
The silence dragged for more than a second. “A man, huh? Well, there’s only one borzoi in Pineview Falls. Beautiful animal. His owner is one of our regulars, very particular about how he likes it done.”
“Do you mind giving me his name?” she asked innocently. “I’ve had bad experiences with groomers in the past and would love to just chat with him about his experience. I hope you understand.”
“Of course, of course! We understand the importance of references… ah, here’s his name.” Zoe didn’t know what to expect but then the lady said the name.
“Adam Deader.”