Chapter 22
Iwaited in the dark across from Town Hall, my breath clouding the cold night air. I was prepared with a small, foldable knife in my back pocket. My plan was to find his dark secret in his office—lure him in with a phone call, and kill him.
Bat-shit insane? Yes. But, I was running out of time. Angela’s life was on the line.
The street lamps cast long shadows over the building, but I stayed hidden behind a cluster of bushes—watching. Then, finally, the black SUV pulled away from the curb. Mayor Hamonte climbed inside and disappeared into the night.
I didn’t waste a second. I circled the building, heart hammering. A janitor’s door on the side was cracked open—left ajar, either by accident or careless habit. Quiet as a ghost, I slipped inside.
The corridors were dim and smelled of cleaning chemicals and old carpet. I moved as silently as I could, sticking to the shadows, edging toward the mayor’s office.
As I neared, a door down the hall creaked open. A janitor stepped out, a mop bucket trailing behind him. He froze when he saw me, eyes narrowing. “Hey. What are you doing here so late? That’s twice already I’ve seen you.”
Twice? What is he talking about?
I kept my voice calm and steady. “Right. I forgot a document in Mayor Hamonte’s office. I needed to grab it before morning. It has to do with a witness statement regarding an important police matter. I can’t say anything else about that.”
His gaze was skeptical. “Is that so? I don’t remember hearing anything about anyone being authorized to be here at this time. Security usually patrols at this hour, but everything’s crazy because of this Xmas Day Butcher psycho. I might have to call someone, just to check.”
I caught his eyes, trying to show him I wasn’t lying. “No, wait. It’s...it’s also related to Joseph Candela’s disappearance. Detective Castillo is involved—she’s been helping me with my missing wife, Angela. I need that document for her. It’s a whole thing, trust me.”
Something shifted in his expression, his shoulders relaxed.
“Oh god, that’s right. You’re the guy with the missing wife.
This Xmas Day Butcher is freaking insane, man.
I can’t believe someone like that is out there.
I hope you find your wife, and I hope Joseph is found…
alive. Be safe, man. It’s getting crazy out there. ”
I nodded, appreciating the sympathy. “Thanks. You too.”
He gave me a quick once-over. “Alright, just be quick, and don’t get caught, his office is open because I’m cleaning. I don’t like that guy anyway, to be honest. He’s shady.” He leaned in. “I never saw you. That goes for both times.”
Both times? Was I here before? Why don’t I remember?
I nodded and slipped past him, heart still racing, and moved toward the mayor’s office. I reached the heavy wooden door and pressed down on the metallic handle; it clicked open as I pushed myself inside.
The rich smell of leather from his chair and the faint residue of cigar smoke hung in the air. His desk was cluttered—papers scattered, a half-empty coffee cup, pens sprawled toward the edge of the table, but my eyes locked onto a small safe inserted into the wall, behind his desk.
I went over quickly, and inserted the key I had been sent. I turned it and it clicked open. There were many folders and files stuffed inside, but one folded print-out caught my eye.
I pulled it out. It had a sticky note on it that said: “A dark secret that’s yet to be found…”
I hesitated for just a moment, then carefully unfolded it.
It was a series of text messages between HENRY and CLARA.
HENRY: What are you even talking about?
CLARA: Your dad tried to force himself on me!! He's a creep!!!
HENRY: No way…he wouldn't do that.
CLARA: He did do it!! I need to tell someone about this!! He's the mayor!! It's NOT okay!! I would never lie to you.
HENRY: He's the mayor…and my dad…who's going to believe you?
This never made it on the news—it looked like a cover-up.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I searched the safe again and found photographs—I flipped through them. Pictures of Mayor Hamonte and Clara together at the Christmas party last year, Hamonte looked intoxicated—Clara seemed uncomfortable.
I could hardly breathe. This meant that Hamonte must’ve had something to do with Clara’s disappearance…and her death.
A soft creak behind me made my heart leap.
Mayor Hamonte stood in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame, phone in hand, texting like he’d just come back to get something he’d forgotten. “I forgot my wallet,” he said without looking up. “I wanted to order a Christmas ham dinner.”
His eyes found mine, calm but sharp. “Hello there, Lenny. What are you doing in my office? You weren’t invited.”
I remained calm, remembering my task and what I had to do. “I know what you did.” I waved the print-out and the photos in the air. “You’re the one who killed Clara last Christmas.”
He scoffed at me, like I’d said the most unbelievable thing ever.
“You think I had something to do with Clara’s death?
Are you on something? I understand your panicked state of mind, with the anguish of your wife still missing and all, but this is absurd.
” His voice was even, almost bored. “You’re obviously wrong.
It was George. George snapped—he’s the one who did it. He confessed to it—case closed.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of everything settling in my chest. Mayor Hamonte had killed Clara and had covered it up; it had to be the truth. George St. Nicklaus killed Henry, but not his daughter.
What else was Mayor Hamonte hiding? I already knew he had a disturbing connection with Doctor Tuttle and the Gibraltar Institute.
“The evidence is here! Clara told your son via text message that you forced yourself on her! It’s all here! The photos…everything!”
He clucked his tongue and scoffed. “So, you’re the one who stole the key to my safe, huh? Someone broke into my car recently and now it seems—I know the culprit. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I shook my head. “No. It wasn’t me. I didn’t break into your car. I had no reason to.”
He glared at me with cold, hard eyes. “Then who did?”
It had been the Xmas Day Butcher, he broke into his car—stole the key to his safe and planted the evidence in the safe.
I stepped closer, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Where’s Angela? Where is she? She was working hard to get the Whisper’s Creek restoration project funded, but you were diverting those funds—to your salary, to the Gibraltar Institute.
What about your friendship with Doctor Tuttle?
What was going on with Colton Kilhouser?
You have a lot to answer for. I know you’re connected to all of this.
All of the lies and the secrets in this town—it all leads back to you. ”
His smile twisted while he sent a message on his phone. “I’m the one in charge, Lenny. I decide what’s best for this town. I don’t have to answer to anyone. Not you. Not Angela. Not that fool—Tuttle. You’ll see.”
My heart pounded with rage in my chest. “Do you have anything to do with Angela going missing? Don’t lie to me, you piece of shit,” I snarled.
His eyes flashed with anger. “No. I do not. I’d watch your tone, if I were you.”
I pulled out the small blade I’d been carrying—steady in my hand. “This is for Angela.”
Then his phone buzzed loudly. I glanced down, heart pounding. “You don’t want to do this, son. Castillo will be here any minute. We can talk about this, in a mature manner—no one needs to get hurt. I can give you what you want, and you can give me what I want.”
I breathed in short, hard bursts of air. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Your silence, Lenny. We can’t have this town delving into chaos.
All the rumors about Clara and what may or may not have happened need to be put to rest. I must remain mayor of this town, it’s for the best. Trust me.
” He stuck out his hand calmly. “I know you won’t do anything to me, it’d be suicide—face it.
Only reason this place hasn’t been swarmed with officers is because they’re out trying to find this Xmas Day Butcher.
I have every man and woman on the job. I am committed to keeping this town safe, for everyone. ”
I scoffed. “I can’t believe you.”
He laughed at me, like I was nothing, like I was a cobweb collecting dust in the corner of his office.
“Believe it, Lenny. I know I’ll be able to count on you when it comes to what I asked you to do—regarding George and Clara.
It’s for the best.” He smiled, thinking that he was going to get exactly what he wanted.
No way.
Panic surged through me, but it was too late. I had to finish what I had set out to do. There was no going back.
Every muscle tensed up in my body as I lunged—sticking the knife in his left eye, a volley of terror screamed out of him. Blood poured all over my hands as I twisted and sank it deeper into his skull—ensuring he would die.
I kept it there as he gasped and choked for breath. A few seconds later, he went limp as his right eye rolled back. I yanked the knife out of his socket and made my escape by opening the window to his office and jumping out, nearly blowing out both of my knees.
I used the adrenaline that was coursing through my legs before it dissipated—aiming for the forest so that no one would see me or the blood stained all over me.
I ran as fast as I could, disappearing into the darkness.