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“I don’t know the guy, not really. Physically, he’d be capable, I suppose. He has all the right things in his shed. His wife ran off a few years ago, right? Maybe he’s a bit unstable... But I don’t know, that feels like a stretch,” the officer said with a shrug. “I don’t feel like he’s our guy—he seemed genuinely surprised by the shed—but, I don’t think he can be ruled out either. Someone capable of killing so many people wouldn’t feel a lot of guilt, would they?”
Mitch wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, but he agreed with everything the officer said.
“I’ll put him into a holding cell until forensic results come back,” Mitch said, his stomach churning. He felt bad for the guy—but this was his job.
“You want me to do it?” the officer asked.
Mitch sighed. “Thanks, but no, it’s my responsibility,” he said.
The officer looked like he was going to say something, but he decided against it and nodded. “What do you need me to do, Mitch?”
Mitch’s eyes dropped to his wrist. “Go home and get some rest. I’m going to need some fresh officers here in the morning.”
He nodded and Mitch watched as he walked toward the back door.
Mitch checked his phone, his eyebrows lifting when he saw a message from Zoe:
I know I’m probably not supposed to ask, but do you know if Camilla is okay?
Mitch’s heart sank yet again. He’d lost count of how many times it had over the last eight hours.
He started typing a reply, but stopped himself. It wasn’t news he wanted to deliver with a text message.
He dialed her number, tipping his head back, staring at the ceiling as he waited for her to answer. He realized he didn’t look at when she’d sent the message; it could’ve been some time ago and she was probably asleep now.
He was about to hang up when she answered.
“Hi, are you okay?” she asked, surprising him.
He didn’t know what he’d been expecting to hear, but worry for him hadn’t been it. He almost smiled. “I’m okay. Are you?” he asked, realizing he felt a little less anxious just hearing her voice. He didn’t have time to process that realization right now, so he mentally filed it away for later.
“I can’t sleep,” she admitted. “I don’t sleep much anymore... not since...” Her voice trailed off and he thought she was going to saysince my husband’s death. But he didn’t ask.
“I don’t sleep a lot either,” he said. “It’s hard to turn my mind off at night.”
“Are you home?” she asked.
He looked around him. “No, I’m at the station. It’s been a long night... Camilla didn’t make it, Zoe.”
A long pause followed. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said with a thick voice.
He nodded, exhaling a sigh. “Me too. We need to notify her family in the morning. Please don’t say anything to anyone at this stage.”
“I won’t,” she said. “I have no one to tell,” she said quietly, and he regretted saying it.
“I just want to make sure her family knows before the locals start gossiping,” he said.
“Sure, I understand,” she said.
He thought she stifled a yawn. “Try and get some sleep, Zoe.”
“Have you been working all night?” she asked gently.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’ll go home in a few hours and get some rest,” he said.
“Good night, Mitch,” she said, her voice warm and soothing.
“Good night, Zoe,” he said, wanting to say more, but he didn’t. He wanted to tell her he’d see her soon, that he’d fix everything wrong in the world, and he’d find her sister’s killer. But he didn’t say any of those things.
