The next one says:
Can you tell me who owns 1249 Rockridge Way? Searches have proven fruitless. Looking for info so I can discuss usage of the property with the owner…
1249 Rockridge Way.My old address.
Home of the Starling Slayer, dear old dad.
Usage of the property.That means digging up the whole thirty acres, I’m betting.
I’m about to move the emails to the trash folder when I realize I should double-check with my aunt. Just becauseIhate all these people with the fire of a thousand suns doesn’t mean I’m allowed to delete potential clients.
I wait until she’s off the phone before calling toward her office, “Hey, Maggie, there’s a scary number of messages through the contact form asking about the Thorn house.”
She rises from her desk chair and walks into the main office. “Great. It begins,” she says, heaving a massive sigh.
“What begins?”
“This happens every year on the anniversary of his arrest. I warned you when you first got here, remember? The internet people swarming the town.” She shakes her head unhappily. “It’ll be even worse this year because he just went and offed himself—” She stops, wincing when she realizes who she’s speaking to. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I don’t get it. Why do these people care so much? They didn’t know the victims. Or my fa—” I glance hastily at the door. “Or Gabriel Thorn. The case has been solved. So what else is there?”
“A million bucks, for one thing. Although to be honest, I expected the reward to do a lot more damage.”
“Damage?”
“Figured those internet people would be buying up all the shovels at Pete’s hardware store and digging up the entire dang forest. But it’s been fairly quiet.”
She’s right. Even Jasmine seems to have abandoned her “mission.” It’s been days since I’ve seen her researching the case. And despite Zed’s claim that he’s investigating possible burial sites, he clearly hasn’t found anything either, otherwise it’d be all over his stupid website or featured on his podcast. Yes, I still closely monitor both. I don’t trust that guy. At all.
I leave the office after my shift to find Mar and Ty waiting outside for me.
“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” I ask, happy to see them.
Mar looks up from her phone. “Oh, I was literally just texting you. We’re going for coffee. Want to come with us?”
“Sure. I’m down.”
Mar has her camera with her, and as we head toward the Starbucks, she stops every so often to snap a picture. Ty has his head buried in his phone, nearly tripping over his own feet several times during the walk.
“New girlfriend?” I tease, raising a brow.
Mar snorts. “More like new partner in crime,” she answers for Ty.
I eye him suspiciously. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I’m getting in on the body hunt.”
Just like that, my rising spirits plummet. “Don’t tell me you’re after the reward?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” he counters. “Scholarships are only going to get me so far at Vanderbilt. I need the cash.”
“It’s such a waste of time,” Mar informs him. “The FBI and the police swarmed this town for ages, trying to find those remains. They’re long gone. No one’s ever going to find them.”
“It’s not impossible. Those true-crime guys looking for the bodies don’t have my secret weapon.”
She rolls her eyes. “Kab? Yeah, he’s a regular ace in the hole.”
“Kab?” I echo, confused. “As in my cousin’s teammate Kabir?”
