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“You could’ve caught us weeks ago.”
“It’s your fault we picked that second girl.”
Us.
We.
The forensic psychologist the department hired to view the confession tape was working through the idea that Niers was mentally unstable, leaning toward the possibility that his use of the pronouns was from an internal struggle in his head rather than a reference to a second person being involved. He never named a second person, never pointed a finger or placed the blame elsewhere. If anything, through his entire interview, the man seemed proud of what he did, using I and me as often as he used we and us. The psychologist was scheduled to begin testing to determine his mental state, but Niers used his silverware from the dinner tray brought to his cell the very same evening after he confessed to dig deep enough into his wrists to sever the arteries. The images captured and preserved in the digital file are gruesome and graphic, a testament to his determination to die that night.
As I close out the missing persons file on my sister, I can’t seem to let go of the idea that maybe he was insane, but he also had an accomplice. Maybe there was a second person involved, and maybe that person has chosen to kill again fifteen years later.
There’s a reason the Elizabeth Burr crime scene was so eerie, and that’s because it had numerous similarities to my sister’s case. The strangulation, the lack of evidence, the burns on her genitals, and the fact that she was killed elsewhere and dumped in a field? There are too many matches for it to be a coincidence.
I pop up from my chair and head straight to the chief’s office, only hesitating for a second in his open doorway.
He frowns the second he sees me, and I know it doesn’t bode well for the conversation we’re about to have.
“I know that look,” he grumbles, reaching for the steaming cup of coffee on his desk and taking a fortifying sip. “I’m not going to have another conversation about Sawyer Maddox.”
“I’m not here to talk about Maddox. I want to talk about Niers.”
His jaw flexes. “Maison.”
It’s a warning, and one that’s probably well warranted. I’ve brought my sister’s name up, referencing her case, so many times, I’m surprised I haven’t been denied access to her case file yet.
His face grows tender as he locks eyes with me, and I hate feeling like he’s treating me with kid gloves.
“Please don’t look at me that way. I’m not approaching you as Elle’s sister. I’m here as a cop advocating for Elizabeth Burr.”
He gives me a quick nod, but I know my past is going to haunt me just from the way he draws in a deep breath before speaking.
“You thought the minister of the church on Main was an accomplice because he had a gallon of gas in the backseat of his car when you stopped him for not coming to a full stop.”
I do my best not to cringe at that mistake I made, but choose to double down instead, much like I did that same day when that investigation took me to the parsonage and the lawn mower that ran out of gas. “Who only buys a gallon of gas?”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose the same way I did not long ago.
“Niers murdered Caroline Ritter and Elle Maison, Detective. We lost one of our own because of it. Detective Roth went down this same path. He couldn’t accept that Niers acted alone. I won’t lose you because of that piece of shit. It’s been put to rest, and I’m demanding you leave it alone.”
“Yes, sir,” I tell him, knowing I’m not going to get an ounce of support from the department.
I nod in his direction and leave his office, well aware I can’t obey his command. I wish I could, but the voice inside my head, telling me to keep digging, never silences.
Chapter 14
Ugly
“What?” I snap at the sound of someone knocking on the door.
“Jesus fuck,” Legacy snaps, opening the door rather than speaking through it. “Why wouldn’t you tell me to wait?”
I chuckle, not bothering to cover myself up.
I just climbed out of the shower, opting to air dry rather than use a towel because I slept like shit last night, and reserving my energy for just trying to function like a normal person today seemed like a much better idea.
“You have a visitor,” Legacy says, but instead of giving me a warning, he steps to the side, revealing Lennox in the hallway.
Much to her credit, she doesn’t cover her eyes or even seem shocked that I’m sprawled out on the bed.
I’m grinning, my cock threatening to thicken at the sight of her as I stand from the bed.
Albeit slowly, I grab the towel from the bed and tug it around my waist.
