Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
Adam’s words clung to Zoe like an itchy blanket.
Shame.
The shame of being stupid enough to listen to Rachel, clean up her crime scene, and then lie to Gina festered inside her like something rotten her body was constantly trying to expel.
But it couldn’t. No matter how happy and content she was, the shame was a permanent resident, slowly swelling and expanding until there was only one thing left to do.
She cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders.
Her body was still sore from the beating she’d deliberately taken.
“What are you thinking?” Aiden offered her coffee. She took it and didn’t answer. “Storm… what we talked about?—”
“Don’t.” She looked at him. He stood innocently, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, one hand in his pocket, thick glasses resting on an aristocratic nose. It bothered her how polished he was. “I just want to focus on the case, if that’s okay.”
He nodded after what seemed like forever. “I have to head out. I’m due in court in a couple hours.”
“Oh?”
“Another case I was on. Have to testify.” He picked up his coat. “I’ll see you later?”
She nodded, returning to her pile of folders. She felt his gaze linger on her before he finally walked away. She released a sigh of relief that loosened some of her knots.
The station was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. A silence built from exhaustion, the type that made everyone double-check everything, waiting for the moment something would crack open.
She sat at her desk, rolling her pen between her fingers, her eyes locked on to the forensic report.
Both Annabelle and Jackie had been targeted with hunting darts.
The darts were the only element that was introduced by the killer—by Jackie and then adopted by the person who used it on Jackie.
According to Aiden, the darts were meant to make them feel like they were part of the game, like an active player.
She studied Jackie’s picture. What pushed her to torture and murder a friend?
She had no priors, no history of any known mental illnesses, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a darkness growing inside her slowly.
She was isolated from her family, didn’t have any close friends, no boyfriend or girlfriend.
All that time she spent deeply marinating in the massacre with nothing to lift her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Zoe dropped the picture and shot a message to Gina.
Z: I will come see you after this case wraps up.
Gina’s reply was instant.
G: YESSS.
A smile tugged on her lips and she returned to the notes.
Based on the dimensions of the bruise, the forensic team had identified a potential candidate that was a perfect match.
A slim metal shaft that looked light but weighted.
Balanced. Built for precision. The barbed tip gleamed, sharp enough to bite into flesh.
A voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re staring at that report like it’s about to confess.”
“Lisa…” Zoe hesitated. “We haven’t had a chance to talk and I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m really sorry.”
She snorted without humor and crossed her arms. “I knew.”
“About Jackie?”
“No…” She licked her lips. “About Jim having an affair. I found a woman’s scarf at home. Red with blue border. It’s imprinted in my brain.”
“You didn’t confront him?”
She lolled her head. “I think I was trying to pretend it wasn’t happening for as long as I could. But anyway, I’d like to focus on work.”
“Of course.”
Lisa slid a piece of paper in front of her.
“Just got back Adam’s financials. We had probable cause since his dog’s hair was found at a crime scene.
Look at that.” She tapped her finger on the highlighted deposits into Adam’s account for the last two weeks.
“Since the first disappearance, someone’s been wiring him money. And it’s not his employer.”
“Can you contact the bank for more information on the sender?”
“Already did.” She hooked her thumbs into the buckles of her belt. “They’re looking into it.”
Lisa’s face had grown gaunt. Her complexion pale. There was always a strain on her face, like she was constantly fighting tears. Zoe racked her brain for words of comfort when Lisa cleared her throat. “What’s that?”
“The hunting dart that was used on the victims. I just searched it online but I can’t find anything quite like it. It has this pattern on the tip that is unique.”
Lisa looked closer. “It might be local.”
“Is there a place in town?”
“Yeah, Hollow Point Outfitters. They sell a lot of outdoor and gaming gear. If it’s not a major retailer, then I can’t think of anything else.” Zoe was already grabbing her coat. “Agent Storm! The owner doesn’t like people. Especially cops.”
Zoe beamed. “Good thing I’m such a charmer.”
The bell above the door jingled as Zoe stepped inside, shaking the rain from her coat. The shop smelled like leather, gun oil, and sawdust. A hunter’s paradise, stocked with weapons, camouflage, and everything needed to kill something big.
Rows of rifles, crossbows, and hunting knives lined the walls. Mounted deer heads stared blankly from above, their glass eyes frozen in permanent shock. A deep horror seized Zoe. She understood the thrill of the hunt but couldn’t fathom staring at a dead creature hanging on a wall.
At the counter, a woman in her mid-forties, auburn hair tied back, was counting inventory when she saw Zoe. Her expression shifted immediately. Mild irritation curdled into distrust.
“Unless you’re here to buy something,” she said, not looking up again, “we’re closed.”
“How do you get customers with that attitude?” She couldn’t help herself. When the woman sneered, ready to retort, Zoe dropped her badge on the counter between them.
“We’re licensed.” The woman’s voice was sharp.
“I didn’t doubt that.” She showed her a picture of the dart. “You sell these?”
Her eyes flicked to it. A half-second hesitation. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Not to just anyone, though. That’s restricted stock.”
“So you’ll know who has bought these?”
Her shoulders tensed. “Let me check.” She pulled out a register and flipped through the pages. “In the last six months, just one. Jackie Fink. She paid in cash.” Her startled eyes looked up. “Isn’t that the woman in the news? The dead one?”
“Was she alone?” Zoe said, ignoring the question.
The woman hesitated. “Yeah. But she took a call while I was ringing it up. Seemed agitated.”
Zoe’s pulse kicked up a notch. “Did you hear a name? What were they talking about?”
The woman’s face scrunched as she tried to recall. “It was a man, for sure. But I was busy with some other customer too, so I didn’t pay attention to what they were arguing about.” Then she snapped her fingers. “Spector!”
Zoe’s breath hitched. “Spector?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Repeated the name a few times. Like she was confirming details.”
A cold weight settled in her gut. The name rang a bell. It was the username from the chatroom that Annabelle communicated with. Jackie knew Spector too. But who was he?