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Mitch’s brain screamed for his mouth to shut up, to let Zoe live in what little peace she had for a few more days. He couldn’t do that though, because in a small town like Redwater, gossip spread faster than a bullet train, and if he didn’t tell her tonight, she would hear it from someone else. It was his responsibility to deliver this news, he reminded himself.
“We found Lana earlier today,” he said gently.
Zoe’s blinked, like she thought she’d misheard him.
“What? Where is she?” Zoe asked quickly as the corner of her lips turned up.
Mitch drew a deep breath, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry...”
She sat back, like he’d burned her with something. He saw it in her eyes, as she mentally put walls up around herself, keeping her emotions in.
“I thought...” Her hand went to her mouth and she inhaled a shaky breath. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought...” she tried again, but the words were stuck once more. She visibly swallowed. “I kept hoping she’d turn up on my doorstep one day. Lana was a free spirit, even before our parents died. When she went missing, I thought she’d run off somewhere... I’d always thought she would come home when she was ready...” Her voice cracked and she looked away, pressing her lips together.
Mitch was still stuck onbefore our parents died, but he forced himself to focus.
“We’ll find who did this to her, I promise,” Mitch said, with every intention of keeping that promise. He’d spend the rest of his life working this case if he needed to.
“Where did you find her?” Zoe asked with a strangled voice, finally looking back to him. Her eyes were overflowing and tears slid down her cheeks.
“In the woods on the other side of town. We think the person who killed Lana is a serial killer,” Mitch said gently. “We found multiple bodies close by.”
“How did she die?” Zoe asked, wiping her wet cheeks.
Mitch forced himself to stay calm. “Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen.”
Zoe leaned forward slightly, wrapping her arms around her waist like he’d just kicked her in the stomach. He supposed he essentially had.
His earlier suspicions faded away. He would still need to investigate her—this was all too coincidental not to—but his gut instinct told him she wasn’t involved in Lana’s death.
Mitch reached out his hand, taking hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry,” Mitch said with a nod.
“I-I...” she said rapidly, sounding like she was out of breath. Mitch recognized a panic attack when he saw one.
He squeezed her hand again. “Take a few deep breaths. You’re okay,” he said, giving her all the time she needed.
She got up quickly and walked to the sink. She stared out of the window as she leaned her hands on the countertop. Her breath seemed to calm and eventually she turned back to him.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Panic attacks...”
“Please don’t apologize,” he said gently. “This is heartbreaking... soul-destroying news, I know. Is there someone I can call for you? Someone to come and keep you company?” Mitch asked.
“No,” Zoe said, shaking her head. “Lana was the last family member I had left—immediate family, at least. My friends are all in St. Louis. I bought this house a few months ago but I’ve only been in Redwater a few weeks.” She stopped on that thought. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I can’t believe I moved here, and this is where she was found.” She looked to him. “Is there something to that?”
He shook his head. “Not that we’re aware of at this stage,” he said. He would ask for her movements in St. Louis before she moved here, but right now wasn’t the time.
“Do I need to identify her?” Zoe asked, looking away like it was something she couldn’t bear.
“Not tonight,” Mitch said. “But yes, I’ll need you to identify her. However, the coroner is certain it is Lana based on a tattoo on her shoulder.”
“An angel?” Zoe asked, with eyes pleading him to say otherwise.
Mitch nodded and Zoe exhaled a long, shaky breath.
“I’ll touch base with you tomorrow about the identification process. Tonight, just look after yourself, yeah?” he asked, gently.
Her eyes welled again. “Yeah,” she said, her voice but a whisper.
“I’ll leave now. This is my card,” he said, putting it on the table. “Please call me, any time—day or night. My phone is always on.”
