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I took a bite of my chocolate croissant and turned to Mark sitting next to me. He had a new pair of glasses as he read the police report on Colton’s disorderly conduct arrest.
Turns out, he didn’t die. His grandmother lied because she didn’t want to speak to us, and it didn’t take very long for Colton to pop back up on our radars.
Unfortunately, even having him in the station and being able to question him didn’t offer us any new leads. He insisted that he had nothing to do with the Pegasus murders, and although he admitted to having a relationship with Sammy, he didn’t recognize any of the previous victims. That didn’t mean he was off the hook, but it did mean we were going to have to work harder.
“Find anything?” I asked Mark.
He sucked his teeth and shook his head. “Nothing. Colton’s alibi checks out for the Lionel murder. Anya was able to send me over a bunch of writings she found of his, though. I’ll look through those and see if there’s anything in them. How about you?”
“I’m empty-handed, too. I think I’m going to look over all the fall festival footage again and see if something jumps out at me.”
Mark took off his glasses. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked out the window. “This is fucked, man. It reminds me way too much of when the Unicorn was after us.”
“I’ve read the stories. It’s wild to me how the killer managed to infiltrate the agency itself. What a sick fuck,” I said, taking another sip of my coffee, not that I even needed it. My body already buzzed like a live wire.
“It’s why I think you’re extra helpful in this situation. If we had someone trained on picking up behavioral red flags, we might have caught him way sooner.” Mark gave a grunt and leaned back in his chair. He undid the top button of his light green polo, as if the already loose shirt were constricting him.
“I’ve actually got a meeting with a forensic psychologist today. I’m hoping to bounce some theories off him. Getting into the minds of these monsters is always one of the quickest ways to catching them.”
Mark offered a slanted smirk. “Doesn’t it ever get too dark up there? Trying to think like them all the time?”
“It can, yeah. Some of my colleagues have to take extended breaks to decompress and reset. I have my moments, but overall, I can detach from my work. Besides, it’s not always about getting the heads of the killers, but also into the heads of the victims. If I could think like the person who lost their life, then maybe I could figure out how they lost it.” My phone buzzed inside my pocket. There was a message from the psychologist saying he was outside of the pet store.
“Speak of the devil,” I said, getting up, the chair making a chorus of scraping sounds against the hardwood floor.
“Heading for lunch?” Ryan asked. “Elijah wanted to have lunch at the park if you’re down.”
I shook my head, thanking him for the invite. “It’s work.”
Ryan gave me a thumbs-up and got back to discussing something with Austin. They were the two official Blue Creek detectives and welcomed me pretty much the second I stepped foot in this town. I usually had to deal with egos and misconceptions when I flashed my FBI badge and swung my investigative dick around town, but there was none of that in Stonewall. We worked as a team, striving for the same goal; there wasn’t time to play petty games about hierarchy and assumed power.
I left the conference room, passing by Jason’s empty office and into the main waiting room, where Darrien was talking to Penny, another Stonewall detective, who’d flown in to help support the Pegasus hunt. Jason had left early to interview Marco’s mom about his alibi. A quick glance at the navy blue face of my wristwatch told me he should have been done and back by now.
Jason, Jason, Jason… fuck. I cracked my knuckles and let out a heavy sigh as I walked down the stairs, heading into the pet store that made up the first floor of the building. I hadn’t stayed over at Jason’s since that last time we had to share a bed. The space these last couple of weeks was excruciating, but it also allowed room for other emotions to claw their way into my chest—fear, apprehension.
Anger.
These were emotions I never associated with men. I had kept my body count high and my heart protected from this kind of bullshit.
Only Jace could come in and knock down all my carefully constructed barriers. And only Jace could inflict the same amount of pain on me as he once had. I changed the day after he pushed me out of his apartment, shouting that we could never be together. Understanding the reason didn’t help erase the whips of pain that lashed against my heart every time I remembered that dark time.
