Page 132 of Coordinates of Death

“What if she hates me?”

Hayley harrumphed. “With your winning smile and rugged good looks? Impossible. But seriously, if she’s the one meant for you, everything will work out. As Dad would say, God’s got this.”

“I’m just having a hard time trusting God.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, bro. Me too, but even though we can’t see Him, He’s there. I refuse to believe anything else.”

“Thanks, Hayles.” His cell phone dinged, revealing a call from Mic. “Gotta run. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime. Love you. Keep us updated.”

“Will do.” Kordell disconnected their call and answered Mic. “Hey, do you have anything?”

“Yes. I searched for the name Fiona Kramer. Took me a bit to find anything, but there’s a record of her marrying millionaire Peter Driscoll Bryant.”

Why did the name sound familiar?

Kordell wracked his brain but couldn’t come up with an answer. “Anything else?”

“Yes, I discovered another article announcing the birth of their fraternal twins—a boy and a girl.”

He eyed the picture on the counter. “Twin killers?”

“Possibly. Here’s the interesting part. Fiona died mysteriously. Peter remarried, but then he died and left his fortune, including his estate, to his children, but the deed is in Fiona’s name. Years later, his new wife died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Police suspected foul play, but the coroner deemed it a suicide.”

Kordell whistled. “Wow, those kids had a tough time.”

It ends where it began.

His muscles constricted. “Wait. Where did the new wife die?”

“The family estate near Sweetwood Falls.”

He picked up the note and turned it over. Scribbles in the right corner drew his eye, and he switched his phone to the camera and magnified the etching. “Ugh!” Not scribbles. Coordinates.

“What is it?”

“Mic, SBK said ‘It ends where it began,’ and I now see coordinates on the back of the note. I was so upset at Rory’s disappearance, I can’t believe I missed that.” He face-palmed over and over. “So stupid.”

“Stop, Kord. We can’t dwell on that. Tell me the numbers.”

He rattled them off. “Where is that?”

“I’m sending you the map now.”

He checked her text. “That’s where they’re holding Rory. It has to be. Can you assemble the team and wait for my instructions?”

“Will do.”

Kordell’s pulse skyrocketed. He had to save Aurora.

He wouldn’t run away this time.

“You!” Aurora stared into the face of the Shadow Box Killer—philanthropist Dale Driscoll. “How could you terrorize the community you supposedly love so much? You disgust me.” She balled her hands tight, anger seeping through her words. “And why donate all the equipment to the police, the coroner, the hospitals, if you were only going to use it against us?”

He smirked, his normally handsome face twisting into evil. “Because I could.”

“So it was all just a game to you?”