Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
dani
“It’s way too fucking cold for this,” Kole grumbled, tugging the hood of his jacket over his head. “We could still be in bed together right now.”
We trudged down the snowy sidewalk, Kole keeping my slow pace.
My ribs were protesting every move I made.
My teeth were chattering from the frigid temperature, and I would love to still be under the covers in bed with him, but I had to get this done.
The dark night made it difficult to see anything, but I couldn’t hear anyone else.
The only people I didn’t want to run into were Harry and Susan.
I needed to get onto Natalie’s computer without being interrupted.
“Ten minutes,” I promised, linking my arm with his. “That’s all I need.”
“For your secret mission.”
“I’ll tell you when I can.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
We stopped in front of the police station, and my stomach knotted. Whatever Natalie wanted me to see was important. Why did I have a feeling it was something bad?
Kole opened the door, letting me enter first. Matt shot up from the chair, hastily hiding his open beer behind his back.
“Kole,” he sputtered. “What are you doing here?”
“Break time,” Kole grumbled, jerking a nod toward the door. “Harry wants me to cover for you so you can grab food. You have fifteen minutes.”
Matt’s eyes drifted to me. “Why is she with you?”
“Because there’s a murderer on the loose, and I’m not letting her walk home alone,” Kole snapped. “So hurry your ass up. I want to go home.”
Matt scurried away, still trying to hide his drink.
A blast of cold air whipped through the space when he left.
Kole had respect in this town that Harry didn’t even have.
People listened to him. I grinned, raising on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek.
He turned last second, his lips meeting mine.
He deepened the kiss, letting out a groan.
I reluctantly pulled away, remembering we were on a time crunch. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Go do whatever you came here for. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
He leaned against the desk Tristin used to sit at, crossing his arms. I hurried to the back, only to freeze in my tracks when I stepped through the doorway.
The lights were on, and I peered around the large space as that night played through my head.
Natalie’s pained voice. Miles’s scream of anguish when he’d gotten stabbed.
The room had been cleaned, the evidence gone. Our desks were still in the same spot, and I crept toward Natalie’s. There was a heaviness in the air that wouldn’t ever leave.
I sank into the office chair, hitting the power button on the ancient computer. Tapping my foot, I stared at the screen as it booted up. Finally, the login screen popped up. I quickly typed in her email before pulling out the small paper towel I’d written her password on that night at the clinic.
I let the mouse hover over the enter button for a moment before clicking it. Her home screen took what felt like minutes to load. My pulse thudded as I glanced toward the door. Hopefully fifteen minutes was enough time.
The only folder on her home screen was labeled Winterlake, and I clicked on it.
It opened into more folders to choose from.
I frowned, seeing some of them color coded.
The green highlighted one was named Low Level.
Orange was Medium, and red was High Risk.
The file above those caught my attention most.
Winterlake Experiment.
My breaths came out faster as I clicked on that one. The word document loaded after a few moments, and I saw Natalie’s name on the top. I leaned forward and began reading.
To whom it may concern,
Five Year Overview.
In my professional opinion, Winterlake has been a success.
These years have proven that reintegration is possible.
Men and women who never had a chance at freedom again can learn to reassimilate to civilian life.
I have had therapy sessions with every inmate in this town, and while some are lost causes, there are many who can be part of society again, and they will thrive.
Winterlake consists of people convicted of crimes ranging from theft and drug charges to capital murder. (Please refer to labeled files for inmate details.)
The requirement for inmates to participate in the Winterlake Experiment:
-A minimum of a three-year sentence.
-At least one year of good behavior.
-A willingness to grow and learn.
Every year or so, we bring a bus load of civilians into Winterlake to work an internship. This is to test how the inmates coexist with law abiding citizens who have no knowledge of this experiment. Results have been positive.
To date, we have allowed seventy-nine men and twenty-four women to re-enter society after completing their time in Winterlake.
Every case and every individual is different.
For some, I may need to supervise for a period of years.
Others may only need a year here before I’m confident they are ready to leave.
Once they leave, all their charges are dropped and their criminal file sealed.
They sign a contract to never speak a word about this place, and if broken, they could face new charges.
To help with the transition, we send the newly released inmates to a state and city on the opposite coast of where they previously were arrested.
We believe that giving them a fresh start in a new place makes falling into old habits more difficult.
They each received a specified amount of cash, a rented room for three months, and job prospects.
Of the 103 people who have been released, thirty-four have reoffended. They are now serving their new sentences on the premises of Winterlake.
The country’s average of released individuals who reoffend within the first three years is about seventy percent. While this program is still relatively new, our rate of reoffenders is thirty-three percent. Much lower than the national average.
If implemented, it could help decrease the rate of reoffending across the nation.
There are still multiple hurdles with this.
Many questions would need answers. Would all crimes be included in this program?
Would those convicted of murder be included?
Would the families of those who were murdered have a say in the decision?
Those choices are not mine to make. I am here to study the inmates chosen to reside in Winterlake. It is my belief that this program could work nationwide if planned very precisely and funds are set aside.
We allow Winterlake to run as any normal small town should.
We do not intervene unless absolutely necessary.
Up until a few months ago, we never had a reason to cut the program.
However, there is an inmate who is killing others in town.
If the subject is not apprehended, this entire experiment could be put in jeopardy.
I will send for help if it continues to escalate.
Sincerely,
Natalie Harris
I stared at the screen, the room spinning around me. My heart was hammering against my ribs as I read parts of it again. This entire town…was an experiment? It wasn’t possible. My chest heaved as I grabbed the edge of the desk to steady myself.
Did that mean every person I met here was a convicted criminal?
The image of Adella’s jail tattoo popped into my mind.
The way people here spoke about this town rang in my ears.
My blood ran cold. It made sense now. Lucas, Tristin, the killer…
so much evil in one place. I was fucking surrounded by it.
My fingers ached from how hard I was grasping the desk, and I pulled my arms back unable to stop the tremble taking over my body.
Kole.
Was the man I opened up to—who knew more about me than anyone else—a bad person? Was he a criminal like everyone else here?
I grabbed the mouse, exiting out of the email draft and looking at the three-color coded files.
Low, medium, and maximum. Now that I had context, I quickly realized it was the crime level.
I held my breath as I clicked on the green file.
After it loaded, pictures and names filled the screen.
I recognized a few, my gaze stopping on Hallie’s picture.
The sweet girl who worked at the coffee shop had a criminal record.
I clicked on her name, and it pulled up all the information about her.
She arrived here six months ago. Crime was felony accessory to armed robbery.
Her sentence was three years. Beneath that was personal notes from Natalie about the therapy sessions with Hallie.
I shook my head in disbelief. No wonder she spent so much time at the clinic.
She wasn’t just helping, she was doing therapy with every person in this town.
I skimmed the paragraphs, easily deducting that Hallie got caught up in all this because of a guy she was in love with.
He was serving twelve years for his part in the crime.
I scrolled through the pictures and names, nerves swallowing me.
The one face I was looking for wasn’t here.
I went to the yellow file next, my search halting when I saw Adella.
Her eyes were bright, her smile wide even though she had a busted lip and bruised cheek.
Her sentence was eleven years for involuntary manslaughter.
As much as I wanted to read about her crime and everyone else’s, I was running out of time. I scrolled to the end of the file, cursing under my breath.
I paused for a moment before clicking on the red file. My hesitation had me looking at this page slowly. Lucas’s face appeared and a couple pages down was Tristin’s. Both were serving life for murder.
My gaze stopped on the next familiar photo. The blood drained from my face as I stared at Kole’s eyes. In his mugshot, he looked so different from the man I came to know. His dark eyes were cruel. The frown on his lips menacing. I glanced down, almost scared to know.
Capital murder. Two life sentences.
There was more text, but the words blurred before me. I fell back, the chair rolling a few inches. My chest was tight, making even short breaths a task. He was a murderer. The one person I was falling for was a monster. Possibly the same kind I hunted. What have I done?
“Hey. You almost done?”
Panic smothered me as I peeked over the computer to see Kole leaning against the now open doorframe.
His soft smile was a stark contrast from the vindictive sneer on his mugshot.
Dread coiled my limbs as we stared at each other.
Maybe he had a reason for what he did. I was a killer who had somewhat of a conscience. Maybe he did too. I could confront him.
No. What if he was somehow connected to the person who was on a murdering spree in this town?
Don’t trust anyone. Natalie’s last words echoed in my head.
I couldn’t tell him that I know. Not yet.
I needed more information. Anything I did now would be irrational.
I was too close to him to make a rash decision.
“Isn’t that Natalie’s desk?” he commented, tilting his head.
“Yeah, it is,” I muttered, clicking out of all the files. “My computer wasn’t working. I’m all done.”
“Good. Matt just got back. Let’s go home.”
I stood up, sliding my shaking hands into my pockets.
I focused on my breathing, making sure I was acting calm and collected.
I walked past Kole, barely acknowledging Matt before pulling open the exit door.
Once we were outside, Kole slid his arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I stiffened on instinct, and his hold loosened immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.
“Sorry. My ribs are throbbing,” I lied through gritted teeth. “I think I just need to lay down.”
“I told you not to push yourself so hard. You need rest. I’ll give you another massage when we get back.”
Ten minutes. That was all it took for everything to shatter. I couldn’t stand him touching me anymore. I had no idea who the hell this man was. But I did know one thing. He lied to me. And I fell for it all.
I was in a daze as we walked. He kept his arm around me, and I thought of other things to distract me. What a shit forensic psychologist I was. In a town with criminals, and I never caught on. There were odd things, but I never would have guessed the truth.
I bit my tongue, attempting to work through the emotions. Why wasn’t I enraged? Kole was a stranger to me instead of who he portrayed himself as. I should be furious enough to stab one of my blades into his heart. But I wasn’t.
I was hurt. His betrayal crippled me.
And that was so much fucking worse.