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“But we don’t know anything more about this mystery person other than he or she was following the women, right?” the Chief asks. “Not even height, weight, ethnicity?”
“Right.”
He shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”
I click to another image, a grainy black and white of a woman crossing a street. “The last time Macy Swift was seen alive was on this street camera while on her way to Blackbird Trail for a jog. This is her in the picture. She was never seen or heard from again until I discovered her body. It is estimated she was killed anywhere from three to six hours after being recorded on this camera.
“Here’s where things get interesting. We’ve learned that Macy Swift lives a double life—one that we now know has been under surveillance by the FBI. During the day, Macy ran a charity for sick children with rare genetic diseases. During the night, she spent every penny received by that charity on handbags, designer clothing, vacations, and jewelry. According to the FBI, Macy has embezzled over two hundred thousand dollars from her charity over the last five years. They suspect the husband’s contracting business is dirty as well, which is why they haven’t arrested Macy yet.”
“Holy crap,” Evelyn gaffs.
I glance at the clock. “In two hours, we have a meeting with two FBI agents, who are currently driving up from the Houston office”—I glance at my notes—“Special Agent Brian Briggs, and Special Agent Jacob Zeal. They will likely inform us that they are going to take over the case—both Alyssa Kaing’s and Macy Swift’s, considering it appears both cases are connected. I’ve called this internal meeting for us to compare notes and align on exactly what and how we want to update the FBI. Questions?”
When no one responds, I continue.
“So. We are all on the same page that the X’s carved into Macy’s palms are a message, just like the X’s carved into Alyssa’s eyes. In Alyssa’s case, she turned a blind eye to child abuse, in Macy’s case she stole money from sick kids—eyes, hands. The killer, whoever it is, is punishing these women for their sins and wants everyone to know about them. Is everyone on the same page with this?”
Nods across the room.
Kellan stops mid-pace, flicks his finger into the air. “We need to understand if there is a connection between the victims. Macy’s husband said he didn’t think she and Alyssa were friends, or even knew each other at all, and neither follow each other on social media. But there’s got to be something. How would the killer know both of their dirty secrets?”
“What about Amos Hoyt?” Hoffman says. “He obviously knew Alyssa well, I wonder if he has any connection to Macy Swift, too?”
Evelyn taps her pen. “Ah, that reminds me. My nurse friend got back to me—Hoyt’s medical file is relatively normal. No dementia, nothing weird, certainly nothing that would negate his testimony of what happened. He has a prescription for medical marijuana to help with his PTSD from his time in the military, so the joints you saw at his house are legit. And of course, if this information goes beyond this room, my friend will get fired and I will be extremely upset. Please don’t make me upset today.”
“No one wants to see that, trust me.” I wink. “Okay, thanks. I’ll pay Hoyt another visit,” I say, scribbling in my notebook. “To see if Alyssa ever mentioned Macy, or if he knows her as well.”
I lean back and chew on my pen. “But it doesn't feel like the women knowing each other is part of this. It seems like the sin that these women were committing is the motive, not the actual women themselves. I think the killer somehow uncovered these women’s secrets and wants the world to know what they did.”
Hoffman nods. “I agree, but we need to know how the killer knew these women’s secrets.”
“I think we need to consider the child angle,” Kellan offers.
“What do you mean?”
“Alyssa turned a blind eye to child abuse, and Macy was stealing from a child charity. Kids—that’s a connection. And we’ve already established that it appears that the murders are emotional. Kids make people emotional.”
“So the killer has a soft spot for children?” Evelyn tilts her head to the side, skeptical. “If that’s true, and the killer’s motive is to kill everyone who has wronged children, then his list is quite literally endless.” She leans forward, twirling a pink pen through her acrylics. “Also, if that is the case, why not just come to us about it? The police?”
“Unless it is one of us,” Hoffman mutters, cocking a brow.
“Keep that shit to yourself, to be clear,” Chief Hood barks into the camera. “That is not something we want to mention when meeting with the FBI. We do not need that heat right now.”
Kellan turns toward the camera and addresses the chief in the cool yet commanding demeanor that I have grown to both respect and envy about him. “I agree that we shouldn’t tell the FBI, but I do agree with Chris. Think about it for a second: In Alyssa’s case, we know that there was no struggle before she was killed, therefore we know that she either knew her assailant, or that it was someone she trusted—like someone in a uniform. It’s the same with Macy’s case. The medical examiner said there were no signs of struggle, meaning Macy also felt comfortable with whoever approached her on the trail. And, also, there is not a single fucking piece of trace evidence at either scene. The killer knows what they’re doing—I’m telling you, we cannot ignore this angle.”
“It’s way too early to count out trace evidence, Kellan,” I say. “We haven’t even been back to Macy’s dump site.”
“What about a copycat killer?” Hoffman asks.
I shake my head. “It’s only been a couple days since Alyssa’s body was found. I don’t think the story has had enough time to grow legs to entice a copycat killer.”
“So basically,” Chief Hood interrupts, clearly impatient. “We have no concrete suspect, and jack shit to tell the FBI.”
I clear my throat. “Correct, sir. Our current leads are based on interviews, not tangible evidence.”
I steel myself for the rant that follows.
My head is throbbing as I pull out of the station parking lot.
