CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
By the time Selena and Kelly left the station, warrant in hand, night had settled across Eagleton.
Carol Fen’s road began beyond a row of newer houses and narrowed between wooded slopes. Wind pushed leaves across the pavement in restless groups. The sedan’s headlights found mailboxes, drainage ditches, and bare branches reaching over the road.
Kelly checked the map. “Last house on the left.”
A cruiser followed several bends behind them. The second deputy had taken another road to approach from the rear.
Carol’s property appeared at the end of the lane.
The single-story house stood beyond a short gravel drive, its pale siding dull beneath the clouds. Woodland crowded the rear boundary. One neighboring home showed through the trees almost a quarter mile away, marked by a porch light and two lit upstairs windows.
No car occupied Carol’s drive.
A lamp burned somewhere near the back of the house. Every front window remained dark.
Selena parked short of the gravel. The wind caught the car door when she opened it. Leaves scraped along the road and collected against the porch steps.
The first cruiser arrived as Selena pulled on her protective vest. Deputy Kelvin joined them, while Chuck Danner came around the far side of the property from the second approach.
“Chuck, take the rear,” Selena said. “Deputy Kelvin, hold the east side and watch the road. If anyone comes out, don’t approach alone.”
Both deputies acknowledged her.
Selena and Kelly crossed the drive.
No sound came from inside the house. The lamp at the rear threw a narrow amber shape across one side window. A branch rubbed against the roof, paused, then returned with the next gust.
Kelly stopped near the front window. The curtains had been left open by several inches.
“Living room,” she whispered. “No movement.”
Selena angled toward the glass. A sofa faced a small television. Framed landscape prints hung in a straight row. A half-finished glass of water stood on an end table beside a folded newspaper.
Nothing suggested panic or a hurried struggle.
Selena climbed the porch steps and knocked.
“Carol Fen, FBI.”
Kelly announced herself beside her.
They waited.
The clock inside the house marked several seconds, each one distinct through the door.
Selena knocked again. “Carol, we have a warrant to enter and search the property.”
No reply followed.
Chuck’s voice came through Selena’s earpiece. “Rear door’s locked. I found a magnetic key box under the railing.”
“Bring it forward.”
He appeared around the west side a moment later and placed the small black box in Selena’s gloved hand. A brass key waited inside.
Selena tested it in the front lock. The deadbolt turned.
She drew her weapon and opened the door.
“FBI. Carol, call out.”
Silence reached them from the hallway.
Selena entered first. Kelly remained close behind, her weapon directed toward the living-room opening. The clock stood on a shelf near the kitchen, its second hand moving with a soft mechanical tick.
They cleared the living room, then the kitchen.
A gray cardigan hung across the back of a chair. Two clean plates dried beside the sink. A grocery list had been fixed to the refrigerator with a magnet shaped like a strawberry.
Bread. Milk. Soup. Batteries.
The ordinary details made Selena more alert, not less. Carol had left the house ready for another morning.
A narrow passage led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. The first bedroom served as storage. Boxes lined one wall, marked CHRISTMAS, KITCHEN, and ANDREW.
Kelly opened the wardrobe. “No one.”
The main bedroom lay across the hall. An open paperback rested facedown beside the bed. One pillow carried a shallow indentation. The covers had been drawn tight on the other side.
Selena checked beneath the bed and inside the adjoining bathroom.
“Clear.”
Kelly opened the closet. Coats filled most of the rail, but an empty section remained nearest the door. One hanger moved after the others settled.
A chest of drawers stood beneath a mirror. Selena opened the upper drawer and found folded scarves. The second contained correspondence from Henderson Family Mediation, a property division schedule, and the final divorce decree for Carol and Andrew Fen.
“Divorce documents,” Selena said. “Looks like Carol got divorced around the time she stopped publicly posting to HearthSpace and just used DMs.”
The sound of the clock followed them back into the hall.
Light showed beneath the final door.
Selena pushed it open.
The room had been arranged as a home office. A closed laptop occupied the center of the desk. Bills sat in labeled trays, pens stood inside a ceramic cup, and filing boxes filled two shelves. The lamp near the window cast a circle across the desk and left the corners dim.
Kelly moved to an open cabinet. “This drawer wasn’t closed.”
An accordion file stood upright among household records. The tab carried two words in black ink.
NEW BEGINNINGS.
Selena photographed it before Kelly lifted it out.
The first pages were printed HearthSpace discussions. Dates ran back fourteen months, long before the messages Carol sent Karen, Ruth, and Linda.
Selena read the opening post.
MorningGlory44 had described a marriage worn down by silence. Andrew slept in another room. Arguments over money had replaced ordinary conversation. Carol believed the relationship might still be repaired, but she feared staying would prove she lacked courage.
Four usernames answered repeatedly.
PaperSparrow.
OpenDoor78.
SecondAct39.
The fourth was BlueSkies36.
Karen, Ruth, Linda, and a woman they had not identified.
Their advice grew firmer across the pages.
Hesitation is fear bargaining for more time.
Use mediation to end this cleanly. Don’t let him turn it into another chance to control you.
Leave. Protect yourself. Don’t look back. You’re worth more.
Selena felt recognition tighten through her.
“Those are similar to the phrases Carol used when messaging the victims,” Kelly said.
"It seems other people gave her that advice first," Selena observed.
Beneath the printed discussion sat four separate packets secured with clips.
The photograph on the first showed Karen outside a grocery store in Loyall. A red line crossed her mouth.
Ruth appeared in the second, leaving her house with a work bag over one shoulder. The same red mark covered her lips.
Linda stood beside her Corolla in the third.
Kelly drew a slow breath. “These are the victims.”
“Photograph everything before we move the pages.”
The packets contained addresses, vehicle details, printed maps, employment records, handwritten observations, and short checklists covering Carol’s preparations for each woman.
Each began with fragments copied from the women’s HearthSpace posts, annotated with the details Carol had used to identify them: an employer, a vehicle, a nearby business, or a relative’s name.
Karen’s, Ruth’s, and Linda’s files also recorded earlier face-to-face meetings arranged through the platform.
Karen’s file contained several personal papers bearing her name and a dated note tracing her drive from Loyall to the Montgomery property.
On a printed map of the route, Carol had circled the ruined church near the property and written PARK behind it.
Another mark identified the rear of the cabin.
Dates corresponding to each murder had been marked at the top of the first three files.
Kelly lifted the edge of the fourth packet after photographing it.
A blond woman stood outside Harry’s Print Shop. Short hair curved around her ears, and a fitted black coat reached her knees. The photograph had been taken from across the street.
Red ink crossed her mouth.
“This is like a god damned manifesto,” Selena said.
“I don’t recognize this woman,” Kelly said. “Another victim?”
Selena spread Carol’s original HearthSpace thread beside the divorce records.
“Maybe Carol believed they didn’t follow her advice,” Kelly said. “Karen left Gerry, but Ruth was still seeing Oliver and Linda considered going back to Phil. She could’ve decided they were weak.”
“I don’t think so. The dates don’t work.” It was starting to come together in Selena’s mind.
Kelly waited.
Selena pointed to the first post. “Carol wasn’t giving advice here. She was asking for it. Karen, Ruth, Linda, and BlueSkies36 pushed her toward divorce.”
“So, she blamed them afterward.”
“Not at first.”
Selena opened the later pages. After mediation, MorningGlory44’s tone changed. Carol began answering other women with the same phrases she had received.
Leave. Protect yourself. Don’t look back.
“She followed their advice,” Selena said. “Then she repeated it because every woman who left made Carol’s own decision easier to defend.”
Kelly examined the progression. “She needed it to be right.”
“Exactly.”
A folded newspaper clipping rested behind the divorce decree. Selena opened it.
The announcement showed Andrew Fen beside a smiling woman beneath a church arch. The wedding had taken place eight months earlier, four days before MorningGlory44 stopped posting publicly.
Carol had circled the date.
Kelly said, “She thinks they destroyed her marriage.”
“Carol destroyed it herself by taking their advice. She just can’t live with that.”
The killings arranged themselves with sudden clarity.
Selena placed Karen’s packet beside the photograph of the ruined word processor.
“The tongues weren’t trophies. Carol was punishing speech. These women told her to leave, and she decided their words cost her Andrew.”
Kelly glanced between the files. “Then why keep using MorningGlory44?”
“At first, repetition. Carol kept giving the same advice because she needed to believe it. Once Andrew remarried, she stopped posting publicly and used private messages to stay close to the women she blamed. The account changed from reassurance into surveillance.”
Dates appeared throughout the handwritten notes. The earliest entries began within days of Andrew’s wedding and continued through the week Karen died. Carol had spent the intervening months identifying the women, learning their routines, and waiting until each one became vulnerable.
“And Karen’s machine?”
“She advised Carol in writing, then went to the cabin to write a book. Carol destroyed the machine and removed her tongue. Both acts punished the means by which Karen spoke.”
Ruth and Linda’s photographs waited beneath the lamp.
“Carol killed them for telling her what she wanted to hear,” Kelly said.
“She killed them because accepting responsibility would mean admitting she chose to leave.”
The fourth packet remained on the desk.
Kelly opened it fully. Notes listed Harry’s Print Shop, a late lunch after one, William Screech Square, a move from Elmsview to Eagleton, and a residential address.
At the bottom, Carol had written:
FRIDAY. 8:00.
Selena checked her watch.
Seven twenty-six.
“The first three packets have murder dates,” Kelly said. “This one has tonight.”
Selena called Connor and put him on speaker while Kelly photographed the fourth file.
“We have another target,” Selena said. “Blond woman, mid-forties, connected to a place called Harry’s Print Shop. HearthSpace username BlueSkies36.”
Keys clicked at Connor’s end. “Dana’s checking.”
“Carol knows her. There’s a note for eight tonight. I think Carol might be about to kill this woman.”
A pause followed.
Connor returned to the line. “Wait a minute… Jesus, I know her. Deb Mosley. She works at Harry’s Print Shop. I’ve got an address here.”
The name struck Selena with the weight of the scene they had not yet reached. Carol’s Civic was gone. Deb’s packet contained the only future time in the room.
“Send every available unit to the address,” Selena said.
“No other patrol can reach her in under thirty minutes,” Connor said. “Chuck and Kelvin are still with you.”
“Kelly and I will go. Kelvin can follow once Carol’s house is secured for evidence.”
Selena took the fourth photograph and the page marked Friday.
Selena pressed the transmit button on her radio. “Chuck, secure the house and keep everyone out until the evidence team arrives. Kelvin, help him check the perimeter and seal the entrances, then follow us to Deb Mosley’s address.”
“Understood,” Kelvin replied.
Kelly followed her toward the hall. “Are you certain eight is when it’ll happen?”
“Aren’t you?”
They hurried through the silent house. The wall clock continued counting behind them.
At the front door, Kelly said, “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll back out.”
Selena checked the time once more.
“She’s not changing her plans tonight. Not when they’ve consumed her like this. Karen, Ruth, and Linda told Carol to leave her husband. Deb was the fourth voice. Carol’s finished with the first three. ”
The wind caught the door as they stepped outside.
“Now she’s gone to silence the last one.”