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"Hey, Caleb. This is my partner, Jakob. Jakob, this is my old partner, Caleb.” I hold my hand out to the guy and shake my head at Al.
“I told you not to bring anyone here while I have the place on lockdown."
"He's my partner, Caleb. I trust him. "
And quite rightly so. If you don’t have trust in your partner then you should find a new one, but it doesn’t stop me being wary. This is my place of work and I make the rules here.
I shake my head. "Do you have something we can work on?" I lean against the desk.
"Not really. We have the results of all three post-mortems. Raped, strangled, and tied up post-mortem. No DNA to work on, no witnesses apart from Aria, and the sketch is giving us nothing. We still have forensics working at the cabin as we speak. He can't have been living there and left no DNA."
I shake my head. As much as I agree with Al, nothing would surprise me now. He doesn't want to be found, and our job is to find him before he strikes again. There is no doubt in my mind that he will strike again. I believe he’ll come back for Aria. It’s only a matter of time, and I’ll be ready for the bastard.
"I pulled up this map of that area. What about we do some door to door enquires in each of the nearby villages? He would have had to buy food and supplies from somewhere," says Clay.
It's worth a shot.
"I'll assign some police officers to each village when I get back."
“Amber and I will do some leg work on this one as well. The more help the better, right?” says Clay.
Before Al can answer back, I hear the door open. I turn to see my mom and Aria walking in with trays of goodies. Aria is laughing at something my mom just said, and she looks stunning. At this moment, she reminds me of the girl I loved when I was sixteen – happy and carefree. The moment her eyes land on mine, she smiles. Right now, it’s like nothing ever happened to her. I’d like to freeze this moment, log it into my memories, and remember that look on her face whenever something negative clouds my judgement.
"I don't know how my mother has managed to get you out of that house without one of us, but I owe her one," says Clay cheekily.
“Hold your tongue.” Mom nudges Clay in the ribs with her elbow, making us all laugh.
I was only thinking what he just said, but I’m a little subtler compared to my brother.
Aria takes a step closer to me and freezes. A look of dread and fear washes over her. The tray she’s carrying hits the floor and shatters. I jump to her side and Clay is hot on my heels.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I move her away from the smashed dish and sit her down on a seat. She looks over my shoulder and stares into space.
"H-He..." she stutters and stands up. I move out of her way and let her get whatever it is out of her system. "You look just like him." She speaks to the detective we've just met. Jakob. I look at Clay and he nods over to Chris. "What’s your name?"
"I'm Detective Cuthbert, ma'am."
"Your first name?"
"Jakob."
I've heard enough. I squeeze her shoulders and break the spell she seems to be under. "Sweetheart, what are you trying to say here?"
"He has to know the kidnapper. He has to, Caleb." She turns in my arms in a panic and grips my arms tightly. "His eyes are the same. His voice. His accent." She turns back to the detective. “Lift up your sleeve!”
“What? This is crazy,” says Jakob.
As much as I don’t want to think a cop had some involvement in any of this, I know Aria isn’t in this state for nothing, and I won’t leave any stone unturned.
“You heard her. Lift up your sleeve.” I join Aria’s side, placing my hands on her hips.
"There is an uncanny resemblance." Clay holds up our sketch beside the detective.
"Oh, for God’s sake. Really?" Al snaps. “Have you heard yourself? Just because his eyes are similar, he's the one. You're listening to a woman who has been raped and held captive for a year."
Aria turns in my arms quickly, and before I can stop her, her hand strikes across Al's face.
"How dare you? Do you have any idea what it's like to be locked in a room for all that time? Well, let me tell you a few things. You memorize every little detail. Each floorboard had a design on it, and when I got bored, I would run my finger along the pattern, all the way along to get to the other end. I used to imagine that it was puzzle, and if I followed it right, I’d get out of that hell hole. Everything about that man and room is locked in my head. Don’t you dare underestimate me."
