Page 73 of Coordinates of Death

Kordell handed Hill the bag containing the newspaper. “Seems like he’s targeting both of us, sir. I got this last night. Can you check it for prints too?”

Hill read the article, nostrils flaring. “How does SBK know about your pasts, and who is this Sebastian Roche?”

Kordell glanced at Aurora, his brow quirking an unspoken question.

He obviously wanted her permission before proceeding.

“It’s okay, Kord. Tell him.”

“Sebastian and his family are bad news, sir. Toxic, actually.” Kordell told him a bit about the family, including their human trafficking ring.

Hill’s jaw dropped. “But why would SBK highlight this news?”

“He’s saying he’s in control.” Kordell adjusted his parka’s collar.

“I agree,” Aurora added. “We need—”

Pounding footsteps rattled their conversation, followed by the door bursting open. Jade, the station’s clerk, stuck her head in. “Sorry for interrupting, but we have a walk-in. You’re gonna want to come and talk to him. Says his wife is missing.”

Aurora’s blood pressure rose. “Where is he?”

“Interrogation room one.”

Hill gestured toward the door. “You guys go. I’ll look after this evidence.”

“Thank you, sir.” Aurora hustled from the room with one thought in mind.

Had the Shadow Box Killer found his next victim?

Kordell observed Aurora in action from behind the glass partition in the adjoining room.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table between them. “Mr. Park, how long has your wife been missing?”

“Since last night. She didn’t come home after work.” The man in his midsixties wiped a tear. “I wasn’t sure when I could report her missing, but there’s been talk of this killer returning, and I couldn’t take the chance.”

“You did the right thing.” Aurora looked at the folder in front of her. “The officer who took your statement said your wife’s name is Candace.”

“Correct.”

“I hate to ask this question, but it’s routine. Is it normal for her to stay out late?”

Mr. Park’s eyes narrowed. “You mean, did she run away and leave me?”

Aurora remained silent, her stillness answering the man’s question.

He slammed his hand on the table. “No! We have a healthy marriage. My wife would not just get up and leave.”

“I’m sorry. I had to ask.” Aurora scribbled on her notepad. “Did she have plans after work? Maybe with friends?”

“Yes, her monthly book club, but it normally ends at nine and she comes home right after. She’s an early-to-bed kind of gal.”

Aurora wrote another note down. “What does your wife do for a living?”

“She’s a high-school principal.”

Aurora’s gaze flicked to the mirror for a split second.

Kordell guessed what she was thinking. The woman’s vocation fit Dawson’s theory on SBK’s victimology.