“What?” Dannie asked, heading her way.
Leah was pointing at something.
“Look.”
When he reached his partner’s side, he saw what she was focused on, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.
On the mirror, tucked around the edges, there were Polaroid pictures. On them, there were three very familiar faces.
Their missing persons.
He moved closer.
“Uh, are those three photos of dead women?” he asked. “The three cases we’ve caught?” he added.
Leah just nodded.
Oh, holy fuck.
Immediately, Leah pulled out her phone, and she held it up after doing her search on Phylis Lizney. On the screen, they stared at her face.
Then, they both looked at the one Polaroid.
To make sure, they did the same thing to the other two women in the photos.
Well, now they knew one thing.
The missing women weren’t completely missing anymore. They were in the photos, and someone knew where they were.
DEAD.
“Oh, crap. They were all taken and killed,” Dannie said, grateful that Dave hadn’t noticed the pictures.
They weren’t pleasant.
Not.
At.
All.
One woman was missing her eyes. The other’s lips were stitched shut, and Phylis had no ears. They looked to be burned off, or they had been lopped off of her head.
What they could see of her had splatters of blood all over her face like someone had sprayed her—or hit an artery.
This was gruesome.
Unfortunately for the women, the dead look in their eyes said it all.
They were too late.
This wouldn’t be about finding missing people alive. This would be about finding them dead.
“We have a serial killer,” Leah said.
Dannie knew it was worse than that.
“We have a serial killer and no bodies. How the fuck do we work this?”
