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Amelia, always the professional and one to keep her emotions in check, was visibly shaken. Her eyes, slightly glistening, met Finn's. "This should never have happened, he shouldn't be dead," she murmured, her voice carrying an unfamiliar edge of vulnerability.
The dead man was Frederick. The butler of Huldra House. The same man who had spoken with them several times, cooked breakfast for them, and shown nothing but faithfulness and concern to the Ferguson family.
Finn exhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving the lifeless body draped over the rocks below. "The storm last night... it should've washed him away," he observed. "It's nothing short of a miracle that he's here. Maybe it's a sign our luck is about to turn. We'll need to inform Lady Ferguson."
She turned to face him, her brow furrowed in a mixture of concern and loss. "Finn," she began hesitantly, "Do you ever feel... do you think we might be in over our heads with this?"
There was a long pause as Finn contemplated his response, still weary from the previous night. The weight of the responsibility bore heavily on him, but he wouldn't allow it to crush his resolve. "No," he said firmly. "But I do believe we need to take more proactive measures. We can't keep reacting to each death. We need to get out in front of this."
Amelia nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.
"We need more officers on this island," Finn asserted, his voice growing more authoritative. "And we need to advise the islanders. No one should wander alone, especially not at night. It's a drastic measure, but it might just save lives."
Amelia seemed to consider his words for a moment. The gravity of the situation was clear, and there was no room for ego or pride. "Yes," she conceded, "we need all hands on deck. And if that means shaking up the island's routine, so be it. We can't risk another murder."
Finn glanced around, taking in the apprehensive faces of the islanders above. He could feel their collective grief, fear, and the burgeoning seed of anger. They were all waiting for answers, for justice, for safety. And it was up to him and Amelia to deliver on that. They wanted their island back, but Finn wondered if a place could ever truly go back to how it was once it had been stained with blood.
He placed a reassuring hand on Amelia's shoulder. "We'll catch this scumbag," he said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was her. "One foot in front of the other, and he'll be in cuffs in no time".
Finn felt a buzz in his pocket. It was his phone. Pulling it out, he saw Rob's name flash across the screen.
"Rob," Finn greeted, trying to keep the unease from his voice.
"Finn," Rob replied, his tone indicating business. "How's it progressing over there? I was worried that there hadn't been an update."
"We've found another one, Rob. Third body." The grim nature of the news seemed to pull Finn into a daze.
A palpable pause lingered between them before Rob replied, his voice filled with disbelief. "What? Three? Finn, do you think this one is getting away from us?"
"It already is," Finn said, glancing down at the lifeless form on the rocky shoreline. "Every lead, every piece of evidence... it all just circles back. The island's legends, the lore, the fear among the locals—it's all entangled. And the murderer... They're staying ahead of us. You need to be here to know what this place is like, Rob... I know it sounds weird, but it gets to you."
Rob let out a frustrated sigh. "Damn it. We need to get a handle on this."
"We do. We 're going to need to do it the old-fashioned way," Finn said, gritting his teeth. "Rob, I need more officers here. This island, these people... they need protection. We're out of our depth. There's only two of us right now, we don't even have any officers here from Storn yet. Hopefully we can get a few today to at least do forensics."
"More officers?" Rob echoed. "Finn..."
"I know, Rob. I know it's a lot to ask. But someone else will die if we don’t act quickly."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Finn could imagine Rob rubbing his temples, weighing the logistics and the demands on his force.
But then Rob's voice came back, a tinge of distress coloring his words. "Finn, it's not pulling the strings to get the resources to you that's the issue. There's something you should know."
"What is it?"
There was a heavy sigh from Rob. "I was actually calling to check in on you and Amelia to make sure you were okay. I just received a warning about an approaching storm a few minutes ago. The initial forecasts that it would dissipate were wrong. All of the bad weather the island has seen this past week was just the appetizer. The full storm is about to hit, and it'll be one of the worst the island has seen in living memory. Finn, it's already too late."
Finn's heart sank. "What? When?"
"Within the next couple of hours. The meteorologists say it’s an exceptionally rare one—fast and furious, it built up quickly and is suddenly moving in your direction because of the change in wind. You're about to get hit hard. And by the time Storn gets some officers on a boat, it will be too treacherous to cross the waters to get to you and Amelia."
Finn looked out at the horizon. The sky was already darkening, the once placid waters growing restless. "That explains the winds. But Rob, I need those officers."
Rob's voice grew somber. "Finn, you have to believe me. No one can get onto or off the island for the next few days. The storm is making it impossible. All ferries, boats, helicopters – everything's been grounded. I'm sorry."
Finn swallowed hard, trying to process the situation. Isolated on an island with a terrified community, creepy superstitions, and a serial murderer. He suddenly knew what a caged animal felt like.
"I'll send officers over as soon as the storm passes," Rob assured. "Just... hang tight. And be careful, both of you."
