Page 39 of Shadow Justice

“Good night, Reid.”

“Good night.”

Her bedroom door stayed mostly open, and Reid heard the soft sounds of her settling in: a drawer closing, fabric moving, the click of a lamp. Then quiet.

He waited until the apartment had gone still before he opened his laptop on the coffee table. The couch was too short, his neck already disliked him, and Blue watched every keystroke as if Reid were entering classified information into the dog’s personal database.

Reid started with what he could access quickly: property records, public court filings, old news mentions, business registrations, anything that would give Hopper Shaw a shape beyond a big, quiet man with eyes on the exits.

Hopper’s full name appeared in a county property record tied to a small parcel north of town. No obvious business listing. No recent criminal charges in the state database Reid could access without making a formal request. A civil case from years ago involving a boundary dispute up north. Nothing violent. Nothing useful.

He broadened the search.

His phone vibrated on the coffee table before the next page loaded.

Claire Dawson.

Reid answered on the first ring and kept his voice low. “Fleming.”

Blue lifted his head.

Claire didn’t waste time. “Where are you?”

“Holly’s apartment.”

“She with you?”

“In the other room. She’s asleep.”

Claire blew out a long, slow breath that made the hair on his arms rise. “We have another body.”

Reid’s hand tightened around the phone. He rose from the couch and moved toward the kitchen, putting more distance between his voice and Holly’s bedroom. “Who?”

“A man named Hoyt Sullivan.”

The apartment seemed to contract around him. Reid looked toward the dark hallway, then at his laptop still open on Hopper Shaw’s property record. “Where was he found?”

“In a warehouse office at a Sullivan Ridge Development site outside town. Patrol responded after his wife called in a welfare check. He didn’t come home, didn’t answer his phone. She’s being notified as we speak, but we’re keeping the situation quiet for now.”

“Cause?”

“Too early for the official answer. He had visible trauma, and there was staging.”

Reid already knew he wasn’t going to like the next sentence. “What kind?”

“A Sanctuary paper coffee cup was forced into his mouth.”

Blue stood, ears forward, body still.

Reid closed his eyes briefly and opened them before the image could take root. “Hoyt was at Sanctuary this morning.”

“Tell me everything.”

“He came in during the morning rush, rude and impatient, which was consistent with how Holly describes his usual behavior. I knew him from years ago and redirected the interaction. He calmed down, got his drink, and left.”

“Anyone watching?”

“Yes.” Reid looked at the laptop again. “A man named Hopper Shaw was outside near the patio gate during the exchange. Big, physically capable, seems reclusive. He watched Hoyt, watched me, then moved on. Later, he attended a support group at the shop.”