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It really sucks.
But she can’t just walk away from this.
She’ll probably end up in an asylum as opposed to prison, but she sure as hell is too dangerous to leave on the streets, no matter what personal quandaries we’re all suffering over this.
The entire team is compromised by this point, because the victims make it hard to be compassionate. It’s the future I’m most worried about.
“Now get out there and find my damn son, or I swear this town will never sleep again!” the sheriff shouts, his face red as a bloated tomato on the verge of exploding.
“We need to deliver our profile to the psych hospitals in the surrounding areas,” I say as the people listen to the sheriff rant for a few more minutes.
“If our unsub was mentally unstable, they wouldn’t have the control to pull this off,” Leonard argues.
“A partner changes everything. There’s always a dominant in the partnership. This time, however, the dominant figure isn’t the actual killer.”
“Then who is?” Elise asks.
“Send someone back to Jacob Denver’s house. Something was off when we paid him a visit,” I tell them.
“It can’t be him,” Leonard sighs. “This partner would have had to be able to aid in painting these messages and all the other crazy shit. Jacob isn’t physically capable of any of that. You saw the medical records.”
“Our—I mean the killer, wouldn’t have needed Jacob’s help for that. He could have just masterminded all this,” I point out.
Leonard gives me a grim look before shaking his head like he’s disappointed. Then he walks away.
“What’s his deal?” Donny asks, confused.
“He’s having a rough day,” I lie, unsure why I’m even lying.
Just as the crowd is about to disperse on a fruitless trek through the woods to look for Kyle, the church bells blare their song.
My brow furrows, and I tilt my head, wondering why bells would sound at six-fifteen in the morning. Usually they only chime on the hour.
There’s a large, curious looking tarp-like bag hanging from the bell tower of the church.
There’s a suspicious looking rope tied to one of the clock hands on the tower, and I watch as it clicks down to six-sixteen, and something suddenly swings out of the bag.
A collective gasp sounds out seconds before screams break across the park. People heave, spin away from the sight, and several start running like fire is on their heels.
The sheriff staggers, his eyes wide, his skin pale, and his legs weak. He crashes against a deputy who helps steady him. The deputies who aren’t stunned to their spots are racing toward the church, along with Lisa and Donny.
Even my stomach roils as I stare at the tower in complete horror.
I’m not sure if it’s Kyle Davenport I see hanging, considering there’s not a piece of flesh to make him identifiable, but everyone here has the same conclusion.
Even if we can’t identify him, we all know it’s him.
The rope holds his neck, and his naked, fleshless body dangles from the tower as the bells chime on. If she wanted to make a statement that would incite a full-blown panic, she just won that war.
Then again, the mastermind probably planned this.
They knew this park would be crowded down with people at this time, even though the meeting was impromptu. They know the sheriff. They knew what he would do before he even did it.
The castrated corpse sways, crashing against the brick on occasion. And I can’t look away.
Who is capable of something this depraved and dark without being psychotic?
“Still think she should have a happy life?” I ask quietly as Leonard swallows audibly.
