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“No, it’s... Sorry, I shouldn’t have called a thousand times, but I received a letter from Lana. It’s dated not long after she went missing. It arrived today. She was in Redwater.” The words were spilling out of her mouth so fast she could barely understand herself.
“Okay, slow down,” Mitch said. “I’m coming over, but keep talking to me. Tell me the date on the postmark, then read me the letter.”
She almost made it through the letter without breaking down—almost.
She would give anything to be able to respond, to be able to tell Lana she loved her and she would’ve traveled with her, instead of Peter. That Zoe had just been trying to look after her, not suffocate and control her.
She desperately wished she could respond.
“I need to make a call to Jackson,” Mitch said. “I’ll call you back in a minute and I’ll be at your house in two.”
She smiled through her tears.
True to his word, he was at her front door in minutes.
He opened his arms and wrapped her in them.
She closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his strong chest. She inhaled the intoxicating smell of masculinity. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed being held. She’d forgotten how good it could feel.
Zoe had always thought of herself as a strong, independent woman. But even they needed someone to lean on occasionally. All the death she’d experienced had taught her that life wasn’t meant to be lived alone.
He kissed the crown of her head and she exhaled a shaky breath.
She pulled back, wiping the tears away.
“Sorry,” she said.
He took her hand before she could step away. He clasped his hand around hers and held it against his chest. “She was your sister. If that letter hadn’t rocked you, I’d have sent you off for an assessment myself,” he joked, and she smiled with a mix of sadness and exhaustion.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back in. He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger.
“You’re not alone, Zoe,” he whispered, his voice husky.
They stayed like that a few moments until she stepped back. This time he let her and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“May I have a look at it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Sure, of course,” she said, walking toward the table. Zoe could see where her tears had landed on the letter.
She picked it up, passing it to him, along with the envelope.
He read over it, double-checked the postmark and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I can’t think of a good reason this letter would’ve taken so long to arrive.”
He read the letter again and then looked up, his eyes slowly widening. He cursed under his breath and then shook his head angrily. “PeterBenjamin,” Mitch said like he couldn’t believe it. “That’s the name Camilla was trying to tell us. He was right in front of me.” He brought his phone to his ear.
“Jackson, check if that list has come through from the hospital yet. I need to know if there’s a Peter Benjamin at that hospital. The doctor that bumped into me in the hallway—his name tag read Benjamin. I thought it was his first name, but now I’m wondering if it is his surname.”
Mitch pulled out a chair, seeming to need to sit down. “Call me back.”
He put the phone down and explained what had happened.
“Benjamin would fit the entire profile: intelligent, organized, the right age and athletic build, easy access to victims, the right location,” Mitch said, nodding. “I think we’ve found our killer,” he said, like he was scared to believe that in case it wasn’t true.
Zoe’s heart raced. Could they have really found him?
Mitch’s phone rang and he brought it to his ear. “Have the St. Louis police bring him in for questioning,” he said, standing, then returning to face Zoe. “Peter Benjamin works at the hospital. He’s a pediatric oncologist—working the same ward as Lana. Jackson and I are heading back to St. Louis. I’ll call you once we’ve spoken with him.”
