Chapter 4 – Lily #2
He sets all the papers beside each other on the bed till the comforter is covered, then sighs. “This case keeps me awake at night too, you know?”
Sometimes I forget I wasn’t the only one hurt by her death. Liam and I had known Violet since we were kids, but she and Jackson formed their own friendship over the years too. I used to wonder if that would turn into more. Had he thought about that too?
He drags a hand through his wavy black hair. “You really should leave this to the professionals.”
“With all lack of respect,” I scoff, “it’s been a year, or rather years, and you ‘professionals’ still don’t have jack shit.”
He wrings his hands together, eyes dropping to the newspapers. “Then what are you planning to do with these?”
I shrug. “Guess I was hoping to find some similarities from the cases.”
“And did you?”
“I might have if I’d actually taken the time to compare them,” I admit.
Once a paper is added to this box, it doesn’t make its way back out.
They’re too graphic. Too triggering. Too painful.
Jackson’s phone rings, and I’m grateful for the intermission from explaining my morbid, masochistic curiosity.
“One sec, it’s Liam.” He brings it to his ear. “Yeah?” His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. “Yes.” A few more moments of silence. “Damn, okay. I’ll be right there.”
I hold my breath as he slides the device into his pocket. “Another murder?”
“No, just a lead for a different case.” My body deflates only a fraction. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He walks towards the door and pauses in the frame. “Liam’s going to freak if he finds out you’re still looking into this.”
“I’m simply reading in the comfort of my bedroom,” I say, batting my lashes. “Where’s the harm in that?”
A grin slips across his face as he shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Trouble.” His eyes fall to the newspaper-filled bed. “If you do find any similarities between the articles, give me a call. I can tell Liam and leave you out of it.”
A small smile appears on my face. “You’re the best.”
He winks and is out the door without another word.
Returning my attention to the full newsstand on my duvet, I force bravery. I’ve let these collect dust long enough. It’s time to stop cowering behind my grief and actually play an active role in this investigation.
Similarities.
I grab a pack of highlighters from my desk, then create an annotating key to color coordinate anything that’s mentioned in two articles or more.
Matching murder style: red.
Same neighborhood: green.
Same byline: blue.
Same murder weapon: pink.
Hours pass as I comb through the articles, and set them side by side once more. While there are repetitions in pastels, seeing them displayed like this, there’s one color that stands out far more than the rest.
Blue.
The highlighted name on each byline, both before and after Violet’s death, is none other than Aster Blake.
My mystery man. The handsome—but completely and totally off-limits even in my fantasies—reporter who could blow my entire cover.
I understand he writes for the crime section, but his name is on every single article. He never took a sick day? It never got assigned to someone else in years? And how was he given photos that should be confidential for the investigation to share with the public?
Liam mentioned they get the photos from an anonymous source each time.
Is Aster the source? If he’s not, is he getting the photos the same way?
Does he know who the killer is?
A chill runs through me, a sickness forming in my gut I can’t quite explain.
Is he the killer?
My mind races, considering our first encounter. It was late at night. He was wearing all black, practically invisible in the darkness. Had no problem with being a potential accomplice to whatever he thought I was doing, despite him writing about crime in Cleosville for a living.
Two murders were committed that night, and what was his alibi?
Is that why he was so insistent on knowing my name? So it could be me? Or was it so he could find me later if he thought I knew too much?
I grab my laptop and pull up the article on the second murder in Cleosville this week.
Another murder case with Aster on the byline? Not to mention the fact his hoodie reeked of pizza and he, too, was out late at night, all suspicious and sneaky. And there was something red on his neck. I’ve tried to convince myself it was pizza sauce, but maybe it really was blood.
Liam said the murders were unrelated, but what if he’s wrong?
A sickening thought settles in my stomach. There’s a very real possibility I was face-to-face with Violet’s killer. That I could have ended all of this with a simple unsheathing of my blade.
Would he be my first exception to the “no murder” rule?
I spend the rest of the night rereading each article for any hope of a clue. For every answer there’s another question, but I’m convinced of two possible truths about this man:
He’s the Kodak Killer.
Or…
He knows something that could lead me to the Kodak Killer.
Either way, answers are so close I can taste them.
Aster Blake, I’m coming for you.