AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Written in the same red sketch pencil were three lines.
You see me.
You understand me.
Are you like me?
Brook read the note twice, attempting to understand the underlying meaning. The team had been very careful not to release key details of the investigation to the public. The handwriting was clearly that of a woman, and the unsub held the belief that Brook could relate to her.
The killer had inside information on the case.
Brook had full confidence in her own team. On the opposite end of that spectrum, Detective Hartley and Officer Lawson had almost certainly given Chief Rogan updates on the investigation. Had Chief Rogan passed that information on to someone? Perhaps Martin Kingston? Emily Park hadn’t made an appearance, but she’d yet to leave on the so-called family vacation that the chief had hinted about during their meeting.
Emily Park could have managed to find someone else to leave the envelope. It was as if they were all forced to sit back and watch as wisps of smoke weaved its way around every individual in the victims’ lives. There was no clear path, and the killer was using that camouflage to her advantage.
Not only was the unsub manipulative, but she had also gone out of her way to taunt Brook by bringing her personal relationship with Jacob into the equation. It was almost as if the killer longed for Brook to be like Jacob.
What would happen when the unsub discovered that wasn’t the case?
Chapter Twenty
Brooklyn Sloane
December 2023
Friday — 8:11am
Thewintermorningsunstreamed through the tall, arched windows of the local country club. The golden rays cast a warm glow on the polished marble floors, proving no need for artificial lights from above. The elegant chandeliers, which were reminiscent of blooming flowers, hung high from the ceiling. The small crystals that gently swayed due to the heat blowing out of the vents shimmered like dewdrops.
As Brook stood in the entrance of the dining room, she took in the mahogany-paneled walls that showcased an array of well-preserved paintings and photographs that spoke of the club’s rich history and exclusivity. Each piece seemed to tell a tale of bygone eras, capturing moments frozen in time.
She refocused her attention on the white-clothed tables that dotted the expansive dining room. Each setting was adorned with a centerpiece of fresh flowers, most likely from a local florist given the time of year. A gentle murmur of conversation filled the air, intermingling with the delicate clinking of silverware against the fine china. It didn’t take her long to spot the man who intended to leave Harbor in a private jet with his family later this afternoon.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” the hostess said with alarm as she stepped in front of Brook. The young woman couldn’t have been more than twenty-one years of age. “I’m afraid that I can’t let you into the dining room without a membership. Are you here to meet someone? If so, your name would be on—”
“Mr. Kingston is expecting me,” Brook replied as she stepped around the hostess. The older gentleman had no idea that she’d purposefully sought him out, but she wasn’t leaving without speaking to his granddaughter. “No need to escort me to his table. I can seat myself, thank you.”
Without another word, Brook began to cross the tiled floor until a waiter pushed a cart piled high with steaming plates of food and almost collided with her. She sidestepped the obstacle smoothly, but not without being noticed by Mr. Kingston himself. The way the newspaper in his hands stilled upon recognizing her was a dead giveaway.
It was doubtful that Emily Park had anything to do with the personal message left for Brook during last night’s art exhibit. In theory, the women on last night’s guest list contained the unsub’s name. That didn’t mean that Martin’s granddaughter didn’t have pertinent information when it came to Bella Kadel.
From what the profile suggested, Bella was the first victim.
Most all mistakes discovered were with the first kill, and that meant Emily could have seen someone or heard something that could break this case wide open. Allowing Martin Kingston to remove his granddaughter from the equation was out of the question at this point.
The unsub had purposefully made contact in such a manner that emphasized the manipulation of her words. The killer not only wanted Brook to understand her motives, but the unsub needed someone to identify with...and who better than the sister of a serial killer?
When the unsub realized that Brook wouldn’t step back and stop the pursuit, the unsub could potentially decide that they were in a battle of wills. Brook’s intention was to ensure that the investigation didn’t become a game of wiles. If that were to happen, more victims would be added to the count.
“Mr. Kingston, I must applaud you,” Brook said as she walked around the table removing the strap of her purse off her shoulder. Once she’d reached the chair that faced the door, she hung the leather strap from the back of the chair. Since she’d already given her coat to the attendant near the front door, she was able to make herself comfortable in the seat. “You’ve managed to hire one of the most efficient and loyal assistants in the state.”
Martin Kingston began to slowly fold up the business portion of the newspaper as he cautiously studied Brook. She lifted a hand to one of the servers. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, and Brook wasn’t about to dive into a serious discussion without some form of caffeine. She needed answers, and Martin Kingston was the key to obtaining them.
“Apparently, Lucille is slipping.”
“Actually, it was your dry cleaner who mentioned that you have breakfast at the country club every Friday morning.” Brook took the cloth napkin and smoothed it over her lap to allow her words to settle. “Harbor reminds me of my childhood home. Everyone knows everything, such as the fact that you plan to take your family to Spain for a couple of months. I do believe that your pilot has already filed the flight plan for later this afternoon.”
Martin’s silver sideburns shifted when he tightened his jaw in irritation. His tailored suit exuded an air of sophistication, but it was the way his shoulders straightened that displayed his confidence.
