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Impossibility number two—Kyle Garrett. Naturally, the first thing Nico had done upon arrival at the scene was track that son of a bitch down and find out exactly where he was and what he’d been doing the night before. According to the Garrett’s housekeeper, the whole family—Kyle included—were currently offshore on their yacht celebrating his older brother’s engagement. They weren’t due back until tomorrow, at which time Nico intended to be standing on the dock watching the prick disembark with his own eyes.
Unfortunately, eliminating the two impossible scenarios didn’t leave one improbable option, but several.
First, there was the possibility that Fowler was communicating with someone on the outside, sharing his MO, then sitting back while another party did the dirty work. Granted, that would require a lot of commitment on his part, but then again, Nico was the one who took the man’s freedom. What more did he have to lose? Why wouldn’t he mess with him?
Logan Hayes was another. Ever since their excursion to that backward community in the mountains, Nico had wanted to revisit the option that Seth’s brother could be the one they were looking for. Not only did he know both victims personally, not to mention have enough aggression to fuel an army, but security footage confirmed he’d been a few blocks away from the first crime scene the night it happened. He also seemed arrogant enough to believe he was untouchable because of who—what—he was. Nico would take great pleasure in proving him wrong, if it came to that.
Then—and he hated to admit it, even to himself—there was the real possibility that they were dealing with nothing more than an opportunistic killer with no rhyme or reason for choosing his victims, except that they were there. A true psychopath. In which case, god help them.
What else? What was he missing? Aside from himself and the deep, dark rabbit hole of theories surrounding that idea, what could possibly connect the two victims? Were they targeted specifically or randomly? From what he’d learned so far, they were close friends, a fact that leaned heavily on the specific side of the equation. Born and raised locals. Young. Blonde. Both cat lovers. Isabelle had worked at a diner. Darcy had styled hair from home for cash. They had liked to party. Had questionable taste in men. And as of last night, they were both very dead.
Nico puffed out his cheeks with an agitated exhale. If nothing else, one thing was now certain; this was officially a repeat offender. It wouldn’t be long before the term “serial killer” was being thrown around. Chaos and panic would soon follow. News crews would arrive in white vans like moths to a flame. Tourists would get spooked and leave. Local businesses would suffer. All because of . . . what? Him? It was insane, and yet, it was the only plausible explanation Nico could come up with.
He mulled in circles as the crowd gathered, an army of curious and concerned locals with nothing better to do than try to catch a glimpse of something awful. Among the throng of unfamiliar faces, one stood out, and Nico blinked. Colin Rowe stood motionless. His gaze fixed steadily on Darcy’s trailer. What was he doing out here? In the middle of a sea of moving bodies, his stillness looked unnatural enough for Nico to watch a few moments longer. Then his focus was broken by Zoe’s voice. He hadn’t noticed her come up beside him.
“We only talked to her a few days ago,” she murmured. “What the hell is going on here, Lieutenant?”
Nico turned to face her. “I honestly have no idea.”
And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out. There were too many avenues to explore, none of which held any tangible proof.
For a while, he shared an oddly comfortable silence with Zoe, both of them lost in their own thoughts, until it was time to square his shoulders and return to the fray. He knew what he had to do. He found West right where he’d left him, hovering over the body with a frown. They were focusing on a nasty bruise on her face. Whatever she’d been hit with had split the skin of her cheekbone, bright red blood having oozed then dried down the entire left side.
“It hurt, for sure. Probably knocked her unconscious, but it’s not what killed her,” the ME said with confidence.
“Can I talk to you?” Nico asked.
West seemed to read something in his face, his own becoming cautious. “Sure. Excuse me for a minute, would you Ray?”
The ME grunted and continued his examination.
“What is it?” West asked when they’d walked a few paces away.
It was just shy of midday, the sun warm and bright above them. Though it wasn’t yet the peak of summer, the air was permeated by the loud, persistent call of cicadas through the trees.
“I can’t be sure but . . .” Nico shuffled his feet. “I think these murders might be part of something bigger.”
“I’d say that’s glaringly obvious at this point,” West replied.
“No, I mean—” Nico tried again. “You said you looked into me, right? So, you know exactly what happened to Sara Riley? How she died?”
At the mention of what he’d done, the chief at least had the grace to look ashamed. “I do.”
“And?”
West sighed like the weight of the world was settling on his shoulders. Reluctantly, he said, “The thought had crossed my mind.”
Nico moved so they were both facing the trailer. “I think we need to revisit Sara’s case file.”
“Which one? Missing persons or murder?”
“All of it,” Nico said. “I don’t know what we’re dealing with here, Chief, but I don’t think it’s over yet.”
“Someone wanted these women dead in a big way,” West said after a lengthy pause. He turned to face Nico. “I just wonder, is this a ghost from their own past coming back to haunt them, or one from yours?”
Nico made himself meet his eyes. “Maybe both.”
Lexie was four hours into her shift when she heard the news of Darcy’s murder. The whole island was ablaze with gossip, notions of a serial killer at large in their beloved town discussed over lunchtime burgers and fries, while she did everything she could to maintain her composure. Forcing a strained smile, she took orders, delivered drinks, cleared plates, collected tips, and gave no hint to anyone that she felt as if the walls could close in on her at any moment. As far as she could tell, only one person saw through the ruse. Wade watched her with the scrupulous eyes of a hawk tracking a rodent, though he said nothing, for which Lexie was grateful.
