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"Amelia Winters and Finn Wright will be dead before they have time to tell anyone anything," the killer vowed, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
"Make it clean," the man instructed. "We can't afford any more complications."
"Of course," the killer agreed, already planning the perfect execution in his mind. He would relish the challenge of outsmarting these two detectives, who had unknowingly stumbled upon their web of deceit.
"Keep me updated," the man ordered before ending the call.
The killer observed Finn and Amelia intently as they continued their hushed conversation, their faces inches apart. He imagined their surprise when they realized how close they were to danger, and he couldn't help but feel a perverse excitement at the prospect of bringing their lives to an abrupt end.
As the detectives finally turned to leave, the killer followed from a safe distance, his thoughts filled with anticipation. He knew that soon enough, their shared laughter and whispered secrets would be silenced forever. And then, the last remnants of Horace Velace's treachery would be erased for good.
But for now, he would wait and watch, like a predator stalking its prey. The game was far from over, and the stakes were getting higher. A thrill surged through him as he melted into the shadows, unseen and unheard.
And so, the deadly countdown to the deaths of Finn Wright and Amelia Winters began.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The cold wind whipped around Finn as he stood beside Amelia, their gazes fixed on the lifeless body of Horace Velace, sprawled on the pavement. The feeling of utter helplessness gnawed at him, tightening his chest like a vice. If only he had reached Horace sooner, if only he could have convinced him not to jump...
"Tragic business, this," Inspector Ulman grumbled, shaking his head while Constable Mulberry looked solemn. Their breaths puffed out in clouds, disappearing into the gray sky above.
"Before he... fell," Finn began, forcing the words out through gritted teeth, "Horace mentioned powerful people being behind all this." He cast a sidelong glance at Amelia, whose eyes were red-rimmed but brimming with determination.
"Powerful people?" Ulman scoffed, his bushy eyebrows raised in derision. "That's conspiracy talk, Mr. Wright. This is Cornwall, not some cloak-and-dagger film."
"Horace was scared, Inspector," Amelia said softly. "He truly believed someone would hurt his loved ones if he told us anything."
"Or maybe he was just paranoid," Ulman countered dismissively. "A man on the edge can see enemies everywhere."
Finn clenched his fists, trying to push down the anger simmering beneath the surface. He couldn't afford to lose control—not now, not when he was already walking on thin ice with his FBI suspension and pending investigation. But damn it, something wasn't right here, and he needed local law enforcement to take him seriously.
"Inspector, I'm telling you, there's more to this than meets the eye," Finn insisted, his voice low and urgent. "I've seen too much to ignore the possibility."
Constable Mulberry stepped forward, a sympathetic frown creasing his brow. "You know, sir, there have been whispers about some of the powerful families in the area. Nothing concrete, mind you, but perhaps it's worth looking into."
"Whispers and rumors, Mulberry," Ulman said sharply. "We deal in facts and evidence, not wild theories. It's the easiest thing in the world to bad-mouth the successful. Leave that to the tabloids."
"Even if there's a chance?" Amelia pressed, her eyes flashing with defiance.
"Fine," Ulman grumbled, visibly irritated. "As you have informed me already, you are in charge Inspector Winters. I prefer more concrete police work than this approach, but it's your play."
"Thank you, Inspector," Finn said, nodding curtly. He needed to get out of here, away from the reminder of his failure to save Horace. As they began to walk away, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, paranoia creeping up his spine. He glanced around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"Let's be careful," he murmured to Amelia as they moved further from the scene. "Something tells me this is just the tip of the iceberg."
"Agreed," she nodded grimly, her gaze never leaving the lifeless form of Horace Velace.
"Inspector Ulman, Constable Mulberry," Finn reiterated, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the turmoil inside him. "Conspiracies aside, has there ever been any hint of scandals with the rich and powerful? Something they might want to brush under the rug?"
Ulman snorted, his face reddening with anger. "You're still talking conspiracies, no matter how much you water it down. I've been working in this area for twenty years, Wright. Don't you think I would have known if something like that existed?"
"Perhaps," Finn said, trying not to let his frustration show. "But sometimes people can be too close to see what's right in front of them."
Constable Mulberry shifted on his feet, avoiding Ulman's glare. "It's possible," he admitted quietly. "There have been odd occurrences over the years – people seeing individuals moving around the countryside up to something."
"Rumors and hearsay," Ulman snapped. "We are officers of the law, we deal in facts."
"Inspector Ulman has a point," Amelia chimed in, her eyes flicking between the men. "But if there's even a shred of truth to these whispers, shouldn't we investigate further?"
