Three #3
Helena eased it free with a pair of forceps, turning it carefully in the light. The initials weren’t fully legible, but enough remained to suggest the owner might be someone on staff at the university—a chilling, personal link in a case that had so far seemed frustratingly random.
She slipped the metal clip into an evidence bag, sealing it with a sharp, practiced motion. “This…this might be something.”
“We’ve suspected the killer might have ties to Lavender University, even though one of the victims attended Colorado Springs. He could be tutoring or working at both. But you’re right; this is something. We’ll need to go through the staff and faculty records to see if we can connect the letters.”
“Yeah,” Helena said, her eyes still fixed on the tie clip.
“I think it’s a P, maybe part of an R. The last initial’s barely legible.
We can have forensics examine it. We’ll find out if it was a personal gift she was planning to give before it got burned, or if it came off during a struggle.
It was behind the driver’s seat, so he could’ve been waiting for her, attacked her and lost it in the process.
Maybe he didn’t even realize it was gone. ”
“Good work,” Trevor said, his voice steady with approval.
“I’ll know more once we get the vehicle to the garage at the PD and can go through it properly. We really needed this break.”
Trevor’s hand landed gently on her shoulder. “I know. Maybe this is a sign to keep the faith and trust that God will work things out. That’s what I’m holding on to in my crumbling world. And with this case…and the baby ring one, too…”
He wanted justice for the murdered young women, and for their kidnapped babies. They needed to find Mia and return her home safely before her life was taken, too. They’d been searching for her but so far had come up empty.
Last month, an informant had come forward in exchange for WITSEC. Given them a name: Trigger. Not a real one, but the alias had teeth. He’d allegedly been a social worker at a private adoption agency in Boulder.
That couldn’t be coincidence. And yet, they still didn’t have a face or an identity to go with the name. Just whispers and dead young mothers.
She peered into his eyes, as if sensing he needed steadying, and he found himself falling headlong into them. “Maybe it is. I hope it is. I want it to be.”
The sound of a vehicle approaching pulled their attention away.
Minutes later, the medical examiner arrived, her assistants moving with practiced efficiency as they carefully extracted the victim’s remains from the scorched wreckage.
The car, still smoldering and warped beyond recognition, groaned as it was loaded onto the flatbed tow truck, the winch straining under the weight of charred steel and lingering heat.
Yellow tape fluttered as the last of the officers packed up, radios crackling as they relayed updates to Dispatch.
Within minutes, the scene was cleared, leaving Trevor, Helena and Lark alone on the rocky lakeshore, the wind whispering through the pines.
Trevor’s hand stayed on Helena’s shoulder longer than necessary, the force of the moment pressing down on him. “We’ve got a lead. Let’s not waste it. Let’s see if we can find where the killer came in from and how he exited. If he had accelerant on his person, Lark will find it.”
Helena’s sharp nod was all business. Her eyes flicked to Lark, and Trevor followed her gaze. Lark was already sniffing the air, the smell of accelerant still pungent around them. She was ready.
“All right, girl. Lead the way. Track,” Trevor said, his voice low and focused, though a knot tightened in his gut. Lark’s instincts were always sharp, but with this killer on the loose, nothing felt predictable.
The spaniel trotted ahead, nose low, tail stiff with purpose.
She moved with ease and gracefulness. Trevor’s boots pressed into the dry earth behind her, each step deliberate.
The air felt different in here, quieter, as though the park itself was holding its breath.
The noise from the outside world had faded, swallowed up by the thick walls of pines and the towering stone formations that lined the lake.
Everything felt sharper in the silence—each sound amplified in his ears, every movement an echo in the stillness.
Lark’s pace picked up, her nose twitching as she worked the trail. The knot in Trevor’s stomach squeezed tighter.
He glanced at Helena, but her eyes were locked ahead, as intense as he’d ever seen her.
Suddenly, Lark froze, her body going rigid, ears pricked forward. Trevor’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t just alert—she was aware of something.
“What is it, girl?” Trevor murmured, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
Lark’s body coiled like a spring, every muscle tensed. Her tail snapped stiffly behind her, and her head whipped toward something just beyond the trees. Trevor’s breath hitched, his senses coming alive as every instinct screamed at him to move.
Before he could react, the sound of a gunshot split the air—a sharp crack!