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The sender information is blank, but the subject line reads The Phantom Strangler Strikes Again! My hand shakes as I open it to see a link is the only context.
Who would send this through my business website? Do I open it or forward it to Jez?
My curiosity gets the best of me, and before common sense kicks in, I click on the link. For a brief second, I wish I’d sent it to Jez. My eyes scan the article outlining the murder from Philly in perfect detail.
… the ligature pattern, a belt was used.
Blood was smeared across Davenport's breasts, and dried blood caked her thighs. In her mouth, a rolled-up piece of paper was found with the words: Soon my set will be complete.
The police have no suspects and no leads at this point. It seems the Phantom Strangler is one serial killer who will never be found.
“Holy shit,” I mumble as the blood drains from my face.
Thorn grabs my arm, startling me. I was so engrossed in reading the blog that I didn’t realize he got in the SUV. When he pulls me across the console, I settle on his lap, and he cups my cheeks. “What happened, De? Talk to me.”
I thrust my phone in his face. “How the fuck does he know all this?”
Thorn skims the article, his brows furrowing the more he reads. “I don’t know.” He pushes a button on the steering wheel. “Call Jez.”
I try to move back to the passenger seat as the car fills with the sound of a ringing phone, but Thorn grips my hips, keeping me in place. “Stay.”
I roll my eyes but do as he says because I need his touch right now. He rubs his hands up and down my arms.
“Are you gu?—”
“Jez, we gotta problem,” Thorn growls, cutting out the bullshit greetings.
Jez whistles. “You’re on speaker.”
“What’s going on, brother?” Soul inquires. “Everyone okay?”
“Delaney got an email from someone with a link to a blog,” Thorn starts. “The blog spells out the Philly murder in detail. How the hell did this asshole know to email De? Who is this fucker?”
“Someone fucking emailed her?” Soul asks incredulously.
The familiar sounds of someone clicking on a keyboard come through the speakers, as well as boots shuffling across a floor.
“De, don’t be mad,” Jez begins. “I just hacked into your email.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I reply. “What I want to know is, is this true? The details I mean?”
When we left Philadelphia, not much information had been released to the public. We could’ve stayed, but we decided to head west while we waited for Jez to hack into the police reports and a new location could be identified.
“I’m comparing the article to the police reports, and so far, the details match. It’s almost like this Morgan Ralph Stent, the author of the blog, has extensive knowledge of criminology. He, or she, sounds like they’re enthralled by the Phantom.”
“How can we find the person who sent it?”
“Every computer has a tracking feature on it just in case it’s ever stolen. You can disable it, but a lot of people forget to do that. The computer the email came from is currently in Seattle.”
“Soul, we’re heading to Seattle,” Thorn states
“Do you want me to send more brothers to meet you?” Soul asks.
“Between the three of us, I think we’ll be fine.”
“Keep me updated.”
Thorn disconnects the calls, and after a brief kiss, I climb back over to my seat.
