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‘And everyone in this group is thirty-six.’
‘So, take your pick.’
‘Or we find what ties them together besides just being in the same class,’ Ripley suggested. ‘Have you found any interactions between the victims?’
‘A couple of likes, a couple of comments. They’re all friends in common with each other, but I’ve checked their recent pictures and none of them show up together. If they were friends back in the day, they’re not close anymore. The connection could be anything from shared extracurricular activities, mutual friends, or even a shared secret. Secrets in high school can be powerful things.’ Ella checked on her partner. ‘You went to high school, right?’
Ripley leaned closer, perusing grainy photographs ripped straight from the early noughties. ‘Sometimes I think I never left,’ she said. ‘Are there any photos of our victims together? Or in a group? It could point us to potential victims.’
‘None so far, but this page is surprisingly active. I’ll keep digging.’
As Ella scrolled through pages of posts and comments, Ripley couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. High school had been a mixed bag for her, a time of both discovery and disillusionment. She wondered if, for their killer, high school had left a scar so deep it had festered into a murderous rage.
Ella paused, her eyes narrowing. ‘Hold on, look at this.’ She turned the laptop screen towards Ripley. ‘This photo from a school reunion a couple of years back. Demi and Mark together with some other guy.’
Ripley leaned in, examining the faces in the photo. ‘Not Miles.’
‘Not Miles. Someone named Lucas Trent. I’ve seen his name crop up a few times actually.’
At that moment, Chief Vasquez burst through the door, his expression a mix of urgency and relief. ‘Agents, good news,’ he announced. ‘We've located a family member of Miles Rampell. A cousin lives about twenty minutes from here. She's agreed to talk to us.’
Ripley straightened up, her focus shifting. This was a breakthrough. Family members could provide insights that files and social media couldn't. ‘Great work, Chief. Did she know Miles well?’
Vasquez nodded. ‘Seems like it. She mentioned they were close in childhood but drifted apart recently.’
Ella closed her laptop, her eyes meeting Ripley's. ‘We should talk to her as soon as possible. She might shed some light on Miles' recent life or any unusual behavior.’
Ripley agreed, gathering her notes. ‘Exactly. And I'm interested in her take on this high school connection. Maybe she knows something about their time at Lincoln High that's relevant.’
Vasquez handed them a slip of paper with the address. ‘I’ve assigned you a cruiser. You want any of my guys by your side?’
‘No, thanks Chief, we got this,’ Ripley replied. Vasquez threw her a set of car keys. Ella was already at the door. ‘Ready for this?’ Ripley asked.
‘Let's see if we find out what's been hiding in the shadows of Lincoln High.’
The high school connection seemed like a glaring neon sign, pointing them toward a motive buried in the annals of adolescent memories.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Ella Dark sat across from Miles Rampell's cousin in the modest, sunlit living room, she felt an uncanny mix of personal involvement and a surreal sense of intrusion. This was someone's life, someone's family, and yet here she was, a stranger delving into the most personal chapters of their history. Miles’ cousin - Jayne Hawthorne – was thirty-six years old, with tired eyes and a nervous demeanor, clutched a mug of coffee like a lifeline.
‘Thank you for agreeing to talk with us, Miss Rampell,’ Ella began, her voice soft but firm. ‘We understand this must be a difficult time for you.’
The cousin nodded, a sad smile playing on her lips. ‘Miles was a good person. I can't believe he's gone... and in such a horrible way.’
Ella observed the room, taking in the family photos that dotted the walls, snapshots of happier times. She found her thoughts drifting to the strange nature of their investigation. High school drama, something most people left behind with their yearbooks, had resurfaced with a deadly twist. It was almost absurd, yet here she was dissecting it for clues. She noticed that none of Jayne’s photographs featured her cousin.
‘You and Miles had a good relationship?’
Jayne’s gaze followed Ella's to the photographs, a hint of regret dogging her expression. ‘We used to be close, especially during our younger years. But life... you know, it gets in the way. We drifted apart.’
Ella leaned forward slightly, her detective instincts honing in on every nuance of Jayne’s expression. She read the woman’s body language and found genuine grief hiding in her tense shoulders, her arched fingers, her jittering legs. ‘Had you seen him recently?’
Jayne shook her head, her eyes briefly closing as if to ward off painful memories. ‘No, not for months. We spoke on the phone now and then, but it's been a while since we last met in person. Miles... he had his own life, you know?’
Ella noticed the subtle shift in Jayne’s tone, a mix of longing and detachment. It was a familiar tone, one that spoke of relationships strained by time and distance. ‘Can you tell us what kind of person Miles was?’
Jayne sighed, her gaze drifting off to a corner of the room. ‘Miles was... complex. He was kind, really kind, but he kept a lot to himself. He had his demons, like we all do, but he never let them show. Always the first to offer help, to crack a joke.’
