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“Hank Firestone.”
Alexis leaned toward the phone. “How did you find out so fast?”
“The body was too old to belong to Connelly.” There was a beat of hesitation at the other end of the line. “And Hank’s DNA was already in our system. It flagged on several cold cases from the late 90s and early 2000s when the lab ran it. You were right all along, Alexis. Those cases were connected. Hank Firestone is the Shadow Stalker.”
Alexis instantly shook her head. “He was too old to be the guy who raped me.”
Shane made a sound low in his throat and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“It’s okay,” she told him, kissing his scarred cheek. “Really. I’m okay. I promise.”
“Cal told me there are two of them,” Ash said. “We think the other is his son, Jeremy. Once the fire in the garage was out, we searched the house and found Connelly’s book, filled with notes, on Jeremy’s bed. It’s a signed copy to Veronica.”
“That’s where it went,” Veronica realized, remembering her search for the missing book. “Oh my God. He was inside my house.”
“What the fuck?” Rose murmured. “Are you telling me I hired a killer?”
“I’m sorry,” Ash’s voice softened as it only ever did for his wife or sister. Then he shifted back into cop mode. “Hank Firestone owned a 2019 Ford Taurus and a 2008 Chevy Express cargo van from his job as an electrician. Both are missing.”
“Jeremy drove the Taurus to work every day,” Rose said. “And he worked tonight. Maybe check the parking lot at The Mad Dog?”
“I’ll send someone,” Ash said.
* * *
Shortly before dawn, a state trooper found Hank Firestone’s cargo van parked in an emergency turn-out on the highway with Connelly’s laptop case in the passenger seat and a pool of blood in the back.
The Taurus was still missing.
Zak and the rest of the men left to search the woods around the car with their dogs, but the dogs didn’t pick up any scent. There was no trail to follow. The van was empty. The forest was silent, refusing to give up its secrets.
It was as if Connelly had vanished into thin air.
By mid-morning, Zak called with another update. The forensics team had confirmed that the blood in the van was a match to Connelly’s. The news hit Veronica like a punch to the gut.
“Ash is organizing an aerial search,” Zak said. “We’ll find him.”
Aerial search.
Veronica popped to her feet. “I’ll go.”
When everyone looked at her like she had grown a second head, the worry shifted to mad. “I won’t just sit here and wait for the news he’s dead. I can fly any-damn-thing with wings. Give me a plane. A helicopter. Something.”
Nobody moved or spoke.
“Fine. I’ll take Connelly’s plane.” She pushed through the sea of bodies that had taken over her living room. Once she reached her front door, she glanced back toward the couch. Rebel standing at attention, ears perked. Alfie sat nearby, wagging his tail uncertainly.
“Come,” she commanded, and the two dogs followed her as she marched out the front door.
The cool morning air felt like a slap to her face. Around her, the world was waking up; birds chirped overhead. A family of deer grazed at the edge of her yard. Nature carried on as if nothing was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
The man she loved was missing.
Maybe dead.
No. He was alive. He had to be. No other option was acceptable.
