Chapter 26
Brooklyn Sloane
The wind cut across the open expanse of the cemetery, slicing through Brook's layers like a razor blade.
Her boots crunched over the thin layer of snow as she followed Scotty between the rows of headstones.
She'd spent the drive preparing herself for this moment, yet the familiar ache in her chest grew with each step closer to Sally's grave.
“Hasn't changed much, has it?” Scotty asked, his breath forming small clouds that dissipated almost instantly. “Morton, that is.”
“Not really.”
The cemetery had a traditional layout. Weathered granite and marble stones served as grave markers, some adorned with faded photographs and epitaphs.
Tall, bare oak trees lined the edges, their skeletal branches swaying in the biting wind.
A worn gravel path wound through the graves, leading to a quaint chapel at the far end, its steeple reaching for the grey sky.
Brook tugged her scarf a little tighter.
“Was lunch really that bad?”
“No, the food was exactly as I remembered.” Brook flexed her gloved fingers, keeping her blood flowing despite the cold. “The patrons, though. Let’s just say it was difficult to get through lunch while having most everyone staring at me.”
Those stares hadn’t been because they recognized her personally, but because of the national news.
There were a lot of new faces in and around Morton since she’d moved away.
Still, they recognized the sister of the monster who had slashed Sally Pearson's face until there was nothing left but blood and bone.
“What exactly do you expect to find here?” Scotty asked as they turned down another row of graves. “The only thing the guy left was a bouquet of flowers, and the groundskeeper probably already tossed them.”
Brook considered the question, weighing honesty against caution. Scotty deserved the former after agreeing to meet her on such short notice.
“I don't expect to find anything tangible,” Brook admitted, lifting her gaze to scan the cemetery. “If Jacob visited Sally's grave, he did it to send me a message. He waited until someone spotted him. Someone who would have access to me. The message was the visit itself.”
“Then why make the trip, Brook?”
“Because I need to see it through his eyes.” It was rather difficult to explain her process, especially to someone who didn’t crawl inside the minds of killers on a daily basis. “Doing so helps me anticipate what comes next.”
They finally approached a modest granite headstone bearing Sally's name. Her laugh echoed in memory, bright and uninhibited. It was the kind of sound that made others join in, whether they comprehended the joke or not.
A recollection of Sally twirling with arms outstretched in a park the summer before their senior year came to mind. The image twisted, distorted, and was eventually replaced by the twitching of Sally’s extremities after Jacob had slit her throat, and she lay dying in the middle of the cornfield.
Brook pressed a gloved hand against her chest, her heartbeat suddenly too rapid. She inhaled deeply through her nose, counting silently to ten before exhaling through her mouth. The cold air burned her lungs, grounding her in the present.
“You okay?” Scotty asked, keeping a respectful distance.
“Fine,” Brook replied after she forced her breathing to return to normal.
She tore her gaze away from the tombstone and surveyed the cemetery.
The landscape created natural sight lines, allowing her to track potential approaches and retreats.
Jacob wouldn't have chosen a random path. It wasn’t in his nature.
Each movement would have been predetermined to maximize efficiency and minimize exposure.
At least, until the very moment he wanted to be seen.
The small stone chapel sat on the highest point of the cemetery, its windows offering perfect visibility of anyone approaching Sally's grave from the main entrance.
Brook studied its weathered facade, noting the south-facing door that would have provided a quick exit toward the secondary access road.
“Your mom called out to the man?” Brook asked for the third time that morning. She needed to understand the exact turn of events. “And he didn’t react in any way?”
“No. She just saw the back of him. Said he had a dark coat, hood up. He never turned around, so it could've been anyone.”
Brook continued her visual assessment of the grounds. From Sally's grave, three distinct routes offered clean escape paths. The gravesite visit hadn't been impulsive. It had been planned, which meant that he’d been monitoring those comings and goings from the cemetery for weeks.
“How often does your mom visit your father’s grave?”
“Every Sunday.”
Scotty shuffled his feet against the cold, clearly uncomfortable with the extended exposure to the winter air.
“And where's your father's grave located?” Brook asked, still focusing on the chapel.
Scotty turned, scanning the rows of headstones behind her before pointing toward another section.
“About six rows back and to the right.”
“And which direction did your mother see the man leave?”
“That way.” Scotty gestured toward the chapel, opposite where they had parked their vehicles. “Past that cluster of pine trees.”
Brook's gaze followed his direction to the right of the chapel.
The pines created a natural barrier. Perfect cover for someone who didn't want to be noticed.
She glanced over her shoulder toward the parking lot.
A dark green pickup truck was parked at a discreet distance near the cemetery's western boundary.
Chief Conway had positioned himself with a clear view of both her SUV and Sally's grave.
The former police chief was keeping his promise to watch her back, despite his age and the short notice.
“Mind if we follow the path he took?” Brook asked, nodding toward the pines. “Just to be thorough.”
“Sure, but I don’t know what you think you’ll find,” Scotty muttered as he followed her lead.
The path between the graves narrowed as they approached the stand of pines.
The dense evergreen branches blocked much of the wind, creating a stillness that came across as almost artificial compared to the open ground they'd left behind.
“You should know that Ben hardly ever comes back to Morton anymore,” Scotty said, filling the uncomfortable silence. "He moved to Seattle years ago. Software development or something. But his parents usually travel there, rather than the other way around.”
Brook remained quiet. She had no desire to discuss Sally’s brother.
Jacob had destroyed the Pearson family, and they had made their feelings about her very clear years ago.
They'd been relieved when she left for college. They hadn’t wanted the constant reminder of what they’d lost, and Brook couldn’t blame them.
“His wife had a baby last year,” Scotty continued. “A girl.”
The path curved gently around a particularly large pine, its lower branches sweeping low enough that Brook had to duck slightly to pass. The snow thinned beneath the canopy, revealing patches of frozen earth and scattered pine needles.
They emerged from the pine grove onto a narrow gravel road that bordered the back of the cemetery. The maintenance access route had two vehicles parked approximately fifty yards to their left. One of them caught her interest, so she memorized the license plate.
“Thank you for meeting me today, Scotty.” Brook turned, catching him off guard.
He surveyed their surroundings, gave a slight nod, and turned to retrace their steps.
This time, he led the way through the narrow path of pines.
“I should get back on the road soon if I want to make it back to Ohio at a decent hour.”
“From what I heard on the news, the FBI believes he’s dead.” Scotty wasn’t about to change the subject. He cleared the last pine tree, pausing to wait until she was beside him before they continued forward. “I don’t know what you expected to find here, Brook, but it isn’t Jacob.”
Had Scotty truly believed his own words, he never would have reached out to her in the first place.
“Jacob came back to Morton in the days after Sally’s funeral, Scotty.
” Brook inhaled deeply in appeasement, despite the frigid temperature.
She’d found what she’d been searching for, and she was pleased with the outcome.
Once she touched base with Bit, she would have her verification.
“He dug up her grave, stole her head, and transported it to Alaska without anyone the wiser. He kept her there for years, and I brought her back home. Jacob isn’t dead, Scotty, despite the Bureau’s belief to the contrary.
He came here for two reasons—to say goodbye, and to send me a message. ”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Chief Conway's truck remained in position, though she couldn't make out his silhouette through the tinted windows. She had yet to speak with him, but she would do so before leaving town.
“I know better than to ask what message, don’t I?
” Scotty replied wryly as he turned to face her.
He flashed his crooked grin, though it faded fast. His voice contained a grave undertone that spoke volumes, which meant she didn’t need to explain the significance of Jacob’s presence here in town.
“Even under these circumstances, it was good to see you. Take care of yourself, Brook.”
Brook accepted his embrace.
Before too long, he was pulling out of the parking, his red taillights growing fainter until they vanished completely at the bend in the road.
She pulled out her key fob, pressed the button, and was soon settled in behind the steering wheel.
Starting the engine, she sat a while longer to let the cold air blowing through the vents warm as she made herself comfortable for the long drive ahead.
Once she had her jacket off, her phone connected to the Bluetooth system, and the vents positioned so that the warm air hit her fingers on the steering wheel, she shifted the gear into drive.
Once she had pulled her SUV alongside Chief Conway’s pickup truck, he rolled down his window. He’d aged significantly since she’d last been in his presence. His red hair had lightened, and his face had weathered.
“It’s been a minute or two,” Chief Conway replied with a sad smile. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I’d likely get the same answer as you always give.”
“It’s good to see you, Chief.” Brook was genuine with her words. He’d never treated her anything but kind, even during the interrogation after Sally’s death. “Thank you for doing this today.”
“Wasn’t much help, though.” Chief Conway shrugged, the gesture dismissive but not unkind. “Jacob was nowhere to be found.”
“I didn't really expect him to be,” Brook admitted, her gaze drifting momentarily toward her rearview mirror. She could only hope that Sally was at peace now. “Jacob was here, though. He made his point by coming here, and that's all he wanted to do. I doubt that he’ll be back.”
Chief Conway appeared to want to comment on her statement, but she didn’t want to go into too much depth about her speculation. At least, she assumed that was how he would view her opinion.
“How is Nicole?”
Conway's expression softened slightly at the mention of his daughter. His side eye told Brook that he understood her intentions, but that he would also follow along with her.
“She's teaching kindergarten now. Has two kids of her own." His pride was evident despite his attempt at casualness. “She’s made a beautiful life for herself.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Chief,” Brook said softly, wishing nothing but the best for him.
His tenure as chief of police hadn’t been easy.
She hoped that there would come a day when she could call and convey that his efforts hadn’t been wasted.
“I should be on my way. Again, I appreciate you keeping an eye out for me while in town. Should you ever need anything, you have my number.”
“The same goes for you, Brook.”
She rolled up her window as she observed him pull away. Shifting the gear into reverse, she pressed the gas pedal until she was parallel with the cemetery. She sat motionless for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel, while she stared at a specific tombstone.
“Rest, Sally.” Brook’s throat constricted to the point of pain, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’ve got it from here.”
It took a good ten minutes before she could pull onto the main road. She waited until she reached the highway before tapping the control on her steering wheel to activate the Bluetooth connection.
“Call Bit,” she instructed, her voice steady now.
The system chimed, and barely two rings later, Bit's voice filled the vehicle.
“Hey, Boss,” Bit said, his anxiety barely concealed beneath his greeting.
“I'm driving back,” Brook confirmed, changing lanes to pass a slow-moving truck. “License plate on a vehicle belonging to one of the maintenance people. Ready?”
“Go.”
“Illinois, Delta-Charlie-Victor…” Brook repeated the rest of the plate from memory. There was a brief pause on the line, and when she didn’t give an instruction, she assumed he understood what was needed. “I’ll see you soon.”
The vehicle in question had a security system with a sentry mode, which meant the car had a comprehensive suite of cameras and sensors that monitored the surroundings while parked.
If Jacob had used that access road and the vehicle had been parked in the same spot at the time, she would have confirmation of his presence.
“Boss? Just so you know, Theo wanted me to remind you that your 'I told you so' privileges have been revoked for at least a month.”
Brook allowed herself a small smile at the relayed message.
“Tell Theo and Sylvie to stop worrying. See you all soon.”
Brook settled into the rhythm of the highway after ending the call. She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel, enjoying the warm air blowing from the vents. The heated leather seat was an added bonus.
Jacob was alive.
The fact no longer existed merely in her certainty but had manifested itself with evidence. Jacob had survived Alaska, had healed enough to walk unaided save for what appeared to be a minor injury. And he wanted her to know it.
His message had been received loud and clear.