DEAD OF NIGHT

JESSIE NIGHT THRILLER BOOK 5

JESSIE NIGHT THRILLER

EMBER SCOTT

Copyright © 2025 by Ember Scott

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For Brian- Always

1

The tranquil waters of Pine Lake shimmered beneath the full moon. The gentle ripples on the otherwise placid surface contrasted sharply with the chaos that was occurring in the estate overlooking the water.

Travis Benton gasped for breath as he struggled to speak. “Why…what do you want?” His voice was raw and jagged.

The tall man stood at the console table that rested against the back of the couch in the spacious great room. He casually picked up one of the framed family photos. Once he had secured Travis to the chair, he hadn’t made eye contact again with the man. His fingers traced the edges of the ornate frames, feeling the cool metal beneath his skin. Dark eyes scanned each image methodically, absorbing every detail of the smiling faces captured by the camera. He could sense the fear radiating from his captive, but the man remained calm. Broad shoulders relaxed as he continued his unhurried perusal of the family’s memories. The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the occasional creak of wood as the bound man shifted uncomfortably on the dining room chair. “You shouldn’t try to speak. You’re wasting oxygen you’re going to need soon.”

Travis squirmed slightly. His vision was blurry but clearing. His head throbbed with pain. “What…what did you do to me?” He had been standing on the dock, looking out over the lake, a nice Scotch in hand … and then nothing.

No. Not nothing. There was a noise, a creaking sound on the flooring behind him. He turned… a shadow rushed at him… and then nothing.

The man set one of the pictures down and picked up a crystal vase with delicate etching cut into the glass. “Oh, that? I jabbed you with a dose of midazolam. Commonly known as versed. It works fast, knocks you out immediately. One second you’re fully conscious, the next…” he snapped his finger. “The tricky part is knowing how much to use. Too much, and you don’t wake up. But lucky for you I’m an expert.” He looked up, curiosity flashing across his features. “Say, how much does this cost?” He held up the vase. Travis didn’t answer, so he shrugged and carefully replaced in on the table.

Travis swallowed what felt like shards of glass in his throat before finding his voice again. “I can pay you. I have money. Just…tell me how much.”

The man stared at him and blinked hard a couple of times. “Yes. I can tell you have money. Maybe, if we had more time, I’d love to sit and chat to ask just what it is that you do that affords you to live so lavishly. I mean, this is your second home, right?” He dismissed Travis with a wave of his hand. Of course it is, what am I saying.” His gaze hardened. “Because that’s where your wife and daughter is, right? Your primary residence in Tennessee.” He looked down at his watch. “They are leaving early in the morning to drive down. But it’s a four plus hour drive, isn’t it. Maybe five because your daughter gets car sick coming around those sharp curves across the mountain, right? So that leaves you and I plenty of time.”

Travis’ eyes widened in fear. “How…how do you know-”

Again, the tall man waved him off. “How do I know about your family? I make it a point to get to know all my targets.” He took a menacing step closer to the chair where Travis was tied. “And as for money? Nah, I’m not interested in that. Plus, it’s too little too late.”

Travis watched the way the man’s eyes trailed across his body, lingering on the rope that secured him. It caused a shudder to run through his body and he instinctively struggled against the ropes, only to feel them pull a little tighter around his chest as a result. He gasped, his fear growing as he looked over at the man.

“Careful, there,” the man said. “Wouldn’t want the party ending before it’s begun, now would we?” He stepped closer to Travis, his head tilted to one side. Slowly, he walked around the chair before bending down, face to face. “So, here’s the deal Travis. I’m giving you a shot at walking out of here.”

His words hung in the air as Travis searched his face for meaning.

The man closed his eyes and raised his right hand. “Hand to God, I mean it. I promise from this moment on I am not going to lay a hand on you. And if you can free yourself from those ropes you’re bound in, you get to live to see another day.” He gave Travis a genuine yet terrifying smile. “Of course, here’s the rub. Now, those ropes holding you are tied in a very specific way. That is a very complex series of knots that are bound to your chest and around your arms. Same with the ones connecting your hands behind your back to your feet. They all lead to this central one around your neck.” He ran the tip of his finger gingerly across the piece of rope around Travis’ throat. “Now, these are called binding ropes and the more you struggle, the more they’ll tighten around your limbs and torso, which will in turn increase the pull of the noose around your neck. Now, there are trigger knots placed at key points along the ropes. These knots are designed to slide… either increasing or decreasing the tension along the ropes. Move the right way, and they will create slack in the ropes. Enough that you could free yourself. Mover the wrong way…” He didn’t finish the sentence, just ran another finger lovingly across the rope at Travis’ neck.

Travis gulped, trying to control the fresh shot of fear that had seized him. He felt his bladder loosen and couldn’t stop himself.

The man looked down at his crotch. “That’s okay. It usually happens later, but I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go.” He clapped his hands as he stood up. “So that’s it, my friend. That’s the whole skinny. All you have to do is get out of those ropes without strangling yourself, and you get to walk out of here.”

Travis’ mind was racing. “How do I know I can trust you. I’ve seen this situation before. You’re not wearing a mask…I can see your face.”

The man nodded as understanding flooded his features. “Meaning you think I’m going to kill you no matter what because you can identify me. Well, I am a man of my word. I said I won’t lay a hand on you from this point on, and I meant it.”

Travis thought about that for a moment. “So then if that’s the case, maybe I’ll just sit here and not move until my wife gets home and calls the cops.”

The man nodded slowly. “You can absolutely do that. That would work for you.” He gave Travis a twisted grin. “But I said I wouldn’t lay a hand on you … no one else gets that promise.” The look Travis gave him told the man he understood.

The man stepped back and looked around. Then moved to collect one of the club chairs that sat opposite a large coffee table and dragged it over to place in front of Travis. He plopped down in it, face to face with the terrified Travis. “You can start anytime.”

Travis trembled, blinking hard to hold back tears. He shimmied his torso, testing the bonds. His breath caught and his eyes widened as he felt the rope around his left wrist tighten in response. Travis ceased moving, and the constriction stopped as well. A tug with his right arm resulted in a momentary relaxation of the ropes across his chest, and he felt the slightest sense of elation.

Maybe he was making some headway.

Emboldened, he tried to lean forward just a bit and pulled harder with his right arm. In response, pressure tightened around his shoulder blades and for the first time he felt the constriction of the noose around his neck.

The man’s eyes widened, and his breath hitched as he leaned forward in his chair watching the struggle play out.

“Please…don’t do this,” Travis pleaded. Panic made him twist in the chair and he gasped as the noose tightened. Real panic set in this time causing Travis to thrash with his legs. He felt both shoulders pulled back, and the tightening of the noose caused his eyes to bulge. The ropes binding his wrists felt like snakes coiling around his limbs.

Sweat dripped down his face, his shirt clung to his back. Travis’s thoughts flashed to his family, the fear that he’d never see them again fueled his desperation. He fought to stay calm, to still his mind, but his panic was growing primal.

He needed to breathe.

His chest heaved and the noose tightened again, relentless in its grip. his breathing came in shortened, painful bursts, and he closed his eyes against the surge of fear. The primitive part of his brain – the part that ruled over fight or flight – was kicking in. It was in his best interest to stay still, but every fiber of his being fought that.

The more he thrashed, the tighter the noose became.

The man leaned forward in the chair, his own breathing quickening, his eyes taking in the life-or-death struggle playing out before him.

Travis’ vision began to fade, black spots danced before his eyes. He wasn’t thinking anymore, his body struggled convulsively against the bindings. He tried to cry out again, but the sound came out as little more than a croaked strangle as the rope cut mercilessly into his Adam’s apple. consciousness began to fade away and the last face he saw was that of his killer leaning in close, his face inches away as he breathed in Travis’ last breath.

2

Jessie Night dropped into a deep squat, extended one leg out and reached for her toe. The stretch felt good on her hamstring as she held it for a count of thirty, then repeated with the other leg. She stood, using one arm to pull the other across her torso, relishing the feel the morning stiffness left her back.

She looked down at the large, white German shepherd that sat at her side, looking up at her, head tilted to one side. “Yeah, you’re lucky you don’t have to do any of this.” The dog gave her a low whine in response, and she reached down ruffling the fur on his head.

Looking down at her watch, she frowned. Her client was late. Ten minutes wasn’t terrible, but it also didn’t make the best first impression. She looked around at the deserted running trail that wound throughout the forested area surrounding the lake. This early in the morning, the only sounds were the chitter of woodland creatures leaping from tree to tree, and the occasional splash of a fish breaching.

Part of her wanted to enjoy the early morning solitude. Part of her was on alert for any sound that didn’t belong. The thought that this could be a setup flashed briefly across her mind. As tranquil as Pine Haven could be, she had made more than her fair share of enemies in her short time in the sleepy town nestled high in the North Carolina mountains.

She had to force herself from thinking about what she had encountered in Lost Cove, and the possibility that some of it might have decided to follow her back to Pine Haven.

A crunch of dried brush behind her snapped her out of her reverie.

She spun to see a woman approaching from around a bend in the path. The woman moved with exaggerated caution; her eyes locked on the ground before her as if any misplaced step might trigger a pitfall. She wore designer running shoes that had clearly never been used for their intended purpose. Something about the way she moved reminded Jessie of the tall herons that stalked the water’s edge in the early morning hours. Each life of it’s long leg hesitating before being lowered to take another step.

Jessie placed her hands on her hips as she watched the woman’s approach. Everything about her screamed money. Her workout attire, while technically appropriate for running, looked more like something that had been carefully selected by a stylist – all coordinated colors and high-end brands. She wore her hair in a high, tight ponytail, and the subtle hint of makeup enhanced her sharp features.

As she moved closer, Jessie could see her manicured hands brushing at imagined insects and the scent of expensive perfume greeted Jessie before the woman.

Still, the woman was tall and fit. Jessie imagined she spent many a hour in a fitness studio with a personal trainer who was paid handsomely to sculpt her physique with exercises that gave the maximum amount of benefit with the minimum amount of effort. As she drew closer to Jessie, her steps became a little more assured, and the woman broke out into a wide smile.

Jessie waved and returned the smile, extending her hand in greeting. “Hello, there. Jessie Night. And you must be Ms. Wilson.”

The woman shook her hand warmly. “Yes. But please, call me Everly.” Her accent placed her in the north-east. New Jersey, Jessie thought. She seemed nervous, but open.

Jessie motioned to the dog at her side. “And this is Blizzard.”

Everly’s eyes lit up. “What a handsome fella,” she cooed, immediately crouching down - designer outfit be damned - to greet the dog.

Blizzard’s tail wagged furiously as Everly scratched behind his ears. Jessie watched, pleasantly surprised. The shepherd was an excellent judge of character, and his instant approval wasn’t what Jessie had expected.

“Looks like he’s taken a shine to you,” Jessie said.

Everly stood, brushing off her knees. “He’s lovely. I always wanted a dog growing up, but my mom always said no. It was bad enough trying to feed three kids, let alone worry about a dog.” She stood, dusting off her hands. “We have one now. A retriever. He’s a pain, but a part of the family that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

Jessie nodded, looking at Blizzard. “I didn’t always have him. You might say he found me. Now I can’t imagine him not being around.” She gestured down the path. “Shall we walk? We can stick to the main paths if you like. They are easier to traverse.” Everly looked around nervously, the slightest flush of red creeping into her cheeks as she looked briefly at the ground. Jessie was sure the woman would have frowned had creasing her forehead been physically possible.

“No, this is fine,” she said, taking a step forward as they headed towards a bend in the path that circled around the lake.

They set off at a leisurely pace, Blizzard loping ahead, occasionally doubling back to check on them. The lake shimmered through the trees to their right, the only sound this close was the soft lapping of the water’s edge.

After a few moments of companionable silence, Jessie spoke. “So, Everly, how can I help you?”

Everly’s earlier ease dropped as she glanced behind her. “Um, are you sure we’re alone? No one can hear us, right?”

Jessie glanced over at the woman. “Maybe a deer or a fox or two. But I guarantee they won’t be repeating anything.” She watched as the woman weighed her words. “Is that why you asked to meet out here? To avoid people?”

Everly nodded. “Oh yeah. I can’t be seen in town talking to someone like you.” Immediately, she stopped in her tracks, one hand covering her mouth. “Oh, no. I did not mean that the way it probably sounded. I mean someone like you as in… a private investigator.” She whispered the last two words.

“I wondered why you picked this place to meet,” Jessie said. “No offense, but this doesn’t seem like somewhere you’d feel extremely comfortable.”

Everly looked around, a grin breaking out on her face. “To be truthful, all of this -” she waved her hand slowly down the front of her body like she was brushing away a mirage – “isn’t me. I mean, it is who I am now, but it’s not where I come from. It’s funny how quickly you can forget where you come from though…”

They walked a bit further in silence until Jessie cleared her throat. “So, you want to tell me what it is you need my help with?”

Everly stopped, her eyes darting back and forth. “It’s about my lake house,” she began, gesturing vaguely towards the far shore. “There was a break-in recently. Nothing major was taken, but...” She trailed off, clearly troubled.

“But it’s left you feeling unsettled,” Jessie finished for her.

“Exactly,” Everly replied. “And don’t get me wrong, the police did a thorough job with their investigation, but I need…more.”

Jessie frowned. “I’m more than happy to offer my services, but if nothing was taken, why do you think you need the services of a private investigator?” Everly just nodded and Jessie continued walking. She had met plenty of women like this in the military. Ones that took a moment to get around to what it was they really wanted to say. “What does your husband do for work?”

“He’s a consultant for business start-ups that are based overseas. He works long, hard hours and is very well compensated.”

Jessie pursed her lips together. “Overseas…as in off shore?”

Everly looked at her with genuine confusion. Jessie waved her off. “Nothing. Do you think the break in could be related to his work? Is that it?”

“No.” Everly stopped walking and took in a deep breath. “It’s Worlds of Wonder.”

Jessie gave her a dumbfounded look. “I’m sorry…what?”

Everly sighed and her lower lip started to quiver. She rolled her eyes upward as she breathed in deeply through her mouth, trying to stop tears that would undoubtedly ruin her flawless makeup. “I think my husband is having an affair.” As soon as she said the words, it was like she gave her body permission, and the tears started flowing.

Jessie patted the pockets of the light-down vest she wore. She didn’t have any tissues or anything that might help in this situation. She made a mental note to always keep something with her when meeting with clients moving forward. Thankfully, Everly pulled a tissue from her pocket that was folded into a perfect triangle and used one of the points to dab under her eye. Jessie could tell from the practiced way she did it that the woman had most likely been crying quite a bit lately.

She waited for Everly to regain her composure before speaking. “I am so sorry you’re going through this, Everly. Truly. I know it’s hard to talk about, but can you tell me why you think he’s having an affair? And what is… Worlds of Wonder?”

Everly exhaled sharply. “It’s one of those online adventuring games. You go around collecting weird tokens and building armies and huts, or some kind of nonsense…I don’t even know.”

Jessie nodded. “Okay, now that you mention it, I remember seeing the ads for it on late night television. I didn’t know people actually played those.”

Everly waved her hand dismissively. “Apparently, it’s very big. I don’t get it, but whatever.”

Jessie waited patiently before gently prodding. “And how does this tie into – what you suspect about your husband?”

“My husband – Thaddeus – and I have been together since college. Twenty-four years. And in twenty-four years, this man has never once shown any interest in video games of any type. As a matter of fact, he used to make fun of our son for wasting his time with them.”

“So, you have children?” Jessie broke in.

Everly nodded. “Two. Twins. Tad junior, and Gianna.”

Jessie reached into the pocket of her vest and pulled out her phone. “Do you mind if I record this? It’s how I take notes for a case.” She saw the concerned look her question received and motioned to put the phone back into her pocket. “I can assure you; these are only for me to check back as I work through the case. No one else will hear them.” Finally, Everly nodded her consent and Jessie started recording. “Now then, you told me about your twins. How old are they?”

“Fifteen. Going on thirty.”

Jessie smiled. “And your husband Thaddeus. Can you finish your explanation about the game?”

“My husband and I share everything. That’s just how it’s always been between us. But about six or seven months ago, I noticed a change. Small things. Like, taking calls in his office and shutting the door. Not giving a clear answer as to who was calling or texting at night. It was always someone from work, but he never elaborated on what was so important that he had to excuse himself from the dinner table. And he loves talking about his job, but suddenly it was all hush-hush.

“Then, the last-minute overnight trips started. Which, he does have to travel for work, but it was always scheduled out before. And he changed the passcode on his phone. When I asked him about it, he said it was for work. That a lot of management had had their phones hacked.” She put a hand on her hip and stared at Jessie. “Do I look stupid? I may not be some tech wizard, but I know bullshit when I hear it. So eventually, he went back to sharing his passcode with me. And that’s when that damn game started up.” Her features pinched tight with the unpleasant memories.

Blizzard seemed to sense the woman’s emotional state and scurried over, rubbing his head against her leg. Everly bent down, accepting the dog’s affections, before looking up at Jessie. “He was spending time playing it late at night, and spending money inside the game. Not a lot at first, but more and more. To be fair, he probably spent less than I do on a good shopping trip, but still…it felt off.” She stood placing her hands on her hips. “So, one evening, when he was out, I asked my son to show me how the game worked. He had created my husband’s account, and my husband had never thought to go in and change the password. So, I told myself I just wanted to learn how the game worked so I could surprise my husband by also creating an account and playing along with him.”

“I take it he had been doing more in the game than just creating a new empire,” Jessie said.

“Well, that’s just it. He hadn’t done anything. No building, no foraging, no working. Nothing. And the money? Apparently, you can spend real world money on items that can then be traded or sold for real world money. And, as part of the new world you’re creating, you can also build your tribe. A group of like-minded people that help you to create a society. Or whatever…it’s all very nerdy. But my point is, the only thing he’s been doing in this game is using the communication features for talking to his tribe.” Her eyes narrowed. “And guess what? His tribe consists of one person.” She took out her phone, opened it, and turned the screen towards Jessie. “And this is what he and whoever is on the other end have been talking about.”

Jessie scanned a text of the conversation, her eyebrows shooting up. She cleared her throat as she looked away, trying to fight off the blush that crept up the side of her neck. “Well. That’s some…attack strategy they are discussing.” Everly placed the phone back in her pocket. “So, you want me to look into this? And are you thinking it is somehow related to your break in?”

“That’s what I want to find out. My husband did not want the break in reported. He said nothing was taken, and the things that were broken could be replaced.” Her eyes narrowed again. “Our children sleep in that house, and he wants to blow it off. I want to know if his little sidepiece did this.”

Jessie thought for a moment. “Okay. Email me everything you think I need to know. If you have pictures of the break in, send those. I’ll send you a link to pay the retainer fee.”

Everly frowned and reached into her jacket pocket, drawing out a handful of crisp, neatly folded bills. “I’d rather pay cash. I have plenty of it. Whatever you need. And if that man is fooling around on me, I’m about to get even more.”

3

Angela’s Bakery was the kind of place that invited you to linger and give in. Have that second cup of coffee. Give into that craving for an extra-large cinnamon roll piled high with sticky sweet icing. Sure, you didn’t need it…but why not?

Wooden tables with scarred tops were arranged thoughtfully around the periphery of the shop, matched with comfortable leather chairs that made patrons feel like they could spend just a few more minutes – and dollars – there.

A bell above the door gave off a familiar chime every time someone new entered the building. It was the second time it chimed that Jessie looked and motioned to Alex as he stepped through the door. She had claimed her favorite table sitting inside the large picture window that looked over an already bustling Main Street.

Alex lifted his chin in greeting and made his way over to the table. She pushed a cup of steaming black coffee his direction as he dropped into the chair opposite her. He smiled, lifting the hot liquid, closing his eyes as it hit the back of his throat. “Ah, perfect.” It came out as a sigh. “You know just how I like it.”

“You mean black with an extra shot of even blacker on top of that? I’m surprised your heart doesn’t jump out of your chest from that caffeine hit.”

Alex grinned and set the cup down with a deep exhalation. “So, how’s it going?” His features grew pensive. “How’ve you been since everything that happened up at Lost Cove?”

Jessie felt her left eye give an involuntary twitch at the words. “Well, the nightmares have finally stopped.”

Alex nodded slowly. “Yeah. Same here. Well…mostly. I’m still double checking the locks on the door before I climb into bed.”

Jessie arched an eyebrow and smiled. “You should be doing that anyway. What kind of detective are you?”

His face broke out in a grin as he reached into his pocket. “Speaking of.” He plopped down the gold shield resting against a brown leather backdrop. “It’s official.”

Jessie raised her own cup. “Then this is an official congratulations. You’ve worked hard and you deserve this. How’s it feel to be Pine Haven’s one and only detective?”

“Honestly? It’s not quite what I expected,” he admitted, taking another sip of coffee. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of getting this, but it’s mostly been a lot of paperwork and patrolling the same spots as usual. Not exactly the action-packed detective life you see on TV.”

Jessie gave him a small chuckle and pushed her cup aside. “Pine Haven isn’t exactly the crime capital of North Carolina. You should consider that a blessing.”

Alex shifted his weight. “Yeah, you’re right. Especially after the horrors we’ve seen the last year. Still, something easy … like some porch pirates or a gas station break in. Nothing too dangerous, though.”

Jessie gave him a mischievous smile. “Well, now that you mention it, I have a new case.”

Alex scooted closer in his chair; his interest piqued. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Break in at my client’s house down on the lake. One of the homes in The Glades.”

Alex pursed his lips and whistled. “The Glades is big bucks. Some serious properties on that part of the lake.” He frowned. “When did it happen? I didn’t see any reports.”

“A week ago, according to the wife. It wasn’t called in. Apparently, her husband didn’t want the police involved.”

Alex sipped his coffee. “That’s weird. Anything taken?” Jessie shook her head. “Then that sounds to me like the husband owed money and just got a message. Especially if he didn’t want to file a report.”

“That was my initial thought as well. But the wife thinks he might be having an affair, and that the mistress – if there is one – was responsible.”

Alex scratched his cheek, nodding along slowly. “That doesn’t feel right.”

“Why not?” Jessie asked.

“Well, for one thing, I’m betting this couple is from out of state. Way out of state. Most of the money in the Glades comes from up north. These are multimillion dollar properties on the water and they’re usually second – or third – homes. So, if your guy was fooling around with someone, what’s the likelihood that person is from Pine Haven? Or would even be here. Most rich guys like to keep their seconds far away from the main. Never the two shall meet you know.”

Jessie winced at the tone his voice took on. “That almost sounded personal.”

The detective’s eyes lost focused as he stared momentarily into his cup. “Sorry. Just…weird memories from my own childhood.” He drained his coffee, giving Jessie a wane smile. “I didn’t mean for that to sound so cold. But the fact is, no way your client’s husband would have his mistress anywhere near an estate where he brings his wife and family.”

Jessie gave him a sly smile. “Indeed.”

Alex snorted, shaking his head. “And of course you already thought through all of that. You could have stopped me anytime.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to see that detective mind at work. It’s sharp.”

“So, what makes the wife so certain that it’s another woman?”

“Some racy messages between the husband and someone else on a gaming platform that he is suddenly obsessed with. But so far, that’s the only evidence she’s found. I get the feeling she really wants to protect the kids from this. No matter what’s happening, the optics look bad. Hence the privacy request.”

“Well, I know I can’t interfere or know the details as you go along, but if you need any help I’m here.”

They were interrupted as Angela walked up to them, fresh pot of coffee in hand. She smiled as she poured refills. “Well, what are you two conspiring about over here?”

“Just the usual,” Jessie replied. “Keeping the town safe one cup of coffee at a time.”

The bakery owner chuckled. “Well, if coffee is what you need to keep up safe, then this is on the house. Are you sure I can’t get you anything else? Just took a big batch of Morning Glory muffins out of the oven.”

Jessie could tell Alex was interested but then shook his head reluctantly as he patted his nonexistent belly. “Tempting. But now that I’m detective, I gotta stay in shape. Never know when I might have to chase down a bad guy.”

Angela rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever, Alex. I take it you want me to bag you one up to go?”

He looked at Jessie sheepishly. “Yes, please.”

Angela cracked a smile, nodded to Jessie, and headed back to the counter.

“What’s on your docket for today?” Jessie asked, drinking from the newly refilled cup.

“I thought I’d swing by the medical office. See how the doc is doing.”

Jessie nodded thoughtfully. “How’s he seem to you.” Like all of them, Dr. Lindquist had gone through hell in Lost Cove.

“He seems okay,” Alex said. “But the trauma he went through … I just have a feeling he’s holding it in. Just think it’s a good idea to let him know it’s alright to talk about it.”

Jessie didn’t answer as she contemplated her coffee. She knew all too well what could happen when you bottled things up for too long. The container might crack a little here and there letting those pent-up emotions out, or it could shatter all at once. Everyone was different, and she didn’t know the doctor well enough to hazard which way he might go. “I’d like to go with you. It might help him to know we’re all going through it together. That was a rough time up there.” Her voice trailed off just as Alex’s phone vibrated on the table next to his coffee.

The detective picked it up, a crown creasing his features as he swiped at the screen and held the phone to his ear. There were a few exchanged words that ended with Alex telling the voice on the other end to send him the address. He closed the screen and looked over at Jessie.

“Well, looks like I spoke too soon. A call just came into HQ about a body being found.” Jessie felt a knot forming in her stomach as she watched the detective push back from the table. “I asked them to send the address and -” He stopped talking as his phone buzzed and he stared at the screen. “Hey, what was the address of that break in you’re looking into?”

Jessie thought for a second. “327 Sterling Way. Why?”

He held the screen outward, facing her. “Body was found at 337 Sterling Way. Just a few houses away.”

4

The Glades was the kind of place where wealth was whispered. Not shouted. A closed-door enclave where the price of admission was never talked about. Even among the rich, obscenely large homes that dotted the periphery of Pine Lake, The Glades stood apart.

Both physically and metaphorically.

It was where old money met new and sprawling estates commanded the most exclusive part of Pine Lake. Their manicured lawns and private docks hidden from prying eyes by towering oaks and thick clusters of pines. The entrance to The Glades was marked by a stone gatehouse, it’s wrought iron gates flanked by security cameras that silently tracked every vehicle that passed through. An older man with graying hair whom Jessie assumed was the person manning the gates stood nervously talking to a police officer as Jessie and Alex passed by the gates.

After they passed the guardhouse, the road curved and dipped, disappearing into the dense woods before emerging into an affluent paradise. The homes were modern, all glass and sharp lines, designed to make the most of the lake views while still keeping their occupants hidden while affording the best views of their properties and the lake beyond.

Jessie eased her jeep to a stop behind Alex’s sedan as he showed his badge to one of the police officers at the entrance to the Benton mansion. The officer nodded and waved he and Jessie through to the long, circular driveway that led to the impressive, covered entryway to the house. She stepped out of her Jeep at the same time as Alex, both looking up at the grandeur spread before them in awe.

“Impressive,” Jessie said. “I’ve seen some serious houses before…but this. It doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of Pine Haven.”

“All of this land used to be owned by the Sterling family going back generations. It has been passed down for all those years until a couple of decades ago when the last generation decided they could make a lot of money selling it to a developer. And they did. The result is The Glades. An exclusive neighborhood of about twenty homes like this.”

“Shall we,” Jessie said, following Alex as he walked between the lush greenery that bordered the wide, stone pathway leading to the house’s landing. Tall, double wide glass doors were propped open as they stepped through into a grand entry.

Despite being for seasonal use, the home was meticulously maintained. Everything was polished to the point of gleaming and nothing appeared out of place. There was something about the kind of place that was built for people who could afford to leave it empty for large stretches of the year that Jessie had always found unsettling. They were cold. Emotionless.

An officer was waiting in the foyer and shook Alex’s hand before tipping his head in Jessie’s direction. “Alex. Hey Jessie. Didn’t know you were still consulting with the department. Last I heard you hung your own shingle out.”

“I did. But I was having coffee with Alex when he got the call and thought I’d tag along. Hope that won’t be a problem,” she replied.

The officer stepped back, his back stiffening. “Not at all, ma’am. Glad to have you eyes on this one. It’s just through the entry in the great room. You can’t mis it.”

Something about the way he said that gave Jessie pause. She threw a questioning look at Alex before they brushed back him and made their way into the center of the house. Great room didn’t begin to describe the soaring space. The back wall of the room was made up of floor to ceiling windows and large, retractable glass doors that could be opened to allow large parties of people to move freely from the house onto the expansive deck without the fear of rubbing elbows with anyone.

In the center of the room, facing the wall of glass, sat a dining chair.

Travis Benton sat tied to the elegant chair.

There were two crime scene investigators present. One was photographing the scene and the other was processing any evidence that might have been onsite. They each worked under the watchful eye of a female officer who stood off to one side, anxiously scribbling in her notepad. Alex and Jessie walked over to her.

She looked up, giving them a grim nod. “Thomas. Night.”

“Hey Feely,” Alex said. “What are we dealing with?”

“Travis Benton. White male, 42 years old, works for a tech start-up based in Portland. Has a home in a place called Bedford, just outside New York. but his primary residence is a farm in Tennessee. This is his summer place. From what I can tell, it looks like he walked in on a burglar. The perp must have tied him up and tortured him. We found an unopened safe in the primary bedroom. The killer may have been after whatever was inside.”

Alex arched an eyebrow, glancing at Jessie. “Okay. Thank you. Um, who found him?”

She pointed towards the deck with her pencil. “Housecleaner. Poor woman’s in shock.” She flipped back a couple of pages in her notes, studying the page. “She said the family was due around midday today, but that sometimes, depending on the kids’ activities, the husband can arrive a day early.”

Jessie looked around, thinking back to the lack of cars in the driveway. “So, I take it the family hasn’t made it in yet?”

The officer shook her head. “Should be soon though.”

Alex nodded grimly. “Do me a favor. Keep them outside until I speak with them. They don’t need to see this. Has doc Lindquist been called.”

“On his way,” the officer replied, before returning to taking her notes.

Alex started to turn away but swung his head back around to the officer. “One more thing. You mentioned the safe, but any obvious signs of something being stolen?”

She shook her head. “Not that we’ve seen. But I guess the wife will be able to shed more light on that.”

Alex nodded. “Thanks. And good work.”

Jessie took a deep breath, steeling herself for what waited for them on the chair. She had seen her fair share of cruelty and death, but the sight of Travis Benton’s body still caused a chill to grip her spine.

The businessman’s body was secured by ropes that dug into his flesh in a way that suggested a prolonged struggle. His head was slumped forward and the noose around his neck had left deep angry marks. His shirt was pinched in places, attesting to the tightness of his binds. Jessie walked around the body, noting how swollen his wrists were as well as the deep lacerations that told her he had fought against the ropes with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Her eyes trailed down from his wrists, following the ropes that were then attached to his feet and then snaked their way up and around his torso, before ending in the noose at his neck. “This seems very intricate.” She pointed to parts of the rope that were carefully braided across his shoulder blades, splintering off in two different directions.

Alex nodded, leaning in. “What kind of thief takes the time to tie someone up like this?”

Jessie stood upright, hands on her hips. “And why do all this just to end up strangling the man? Also, this took time.”

Alex grimaced. “You read my mind. The kind of time that comes with someone knowing they weren’t going to be interrupted.”

Heavy footsteps interrupted them, and both turned to see Dr. Lindquist approaching. The man’s eyes were locked on the body as he adjusted his glasses.

“Hey, doc,” Alex said.

The medical examiner looked over at the detective and gave him a nod, his eyes flitting to Jessie as he repeated his short greeting. “You two really do stumble onto the most interesting things.”

Jessie frowned as she watched the man examine the body, walking around it in much the same fashion she had. He sat his black medical bag onto the floor, opened it, and retrieved a small penlight from its depths.

He held one end in his mouth while he slipped on a pair of blue nitril gloves. Carefully, he tilted the dead man’s head back, shining the light on the ligature marks on his neck and into his glassy eyes. “Well, I won’t know for certain until I get him back to the office, but judging from the depth of the grooves, I’d say this was death by strangulation.” He frowned, looking closer. “But there’s more here. The way the noose tightened – it wasn’t quick. This poor man struggled for a while. We’re talking prolonged asphyxiation.”

A knot formed in Jessie’s stomach. “How long are we talking?”

Lindquist straightened up. “Hard to tell until I can examine on a deeper level. But I’d say he was conscious for minutes. Five, maybe as long as ten while the noose tightened, depending on how much resistance he put up.”

Alex’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms. “So, they wanted him to suffer. Sounding more and more like our victim was targeted.”

Dr. Lindquist nodded as he walked around the body slowly, his light glinting off Travis Benton’s form. “Whoever did this was very meticulous. These knots are expertly tied – no amateur work here.” He stopped behind the body, staring at the intricate work. “As a child, I used to spend a lot of time sailing with my dad. He taught me all kinds of nautical knots. But this … I’ve never seen anything like this.” He traced one of the ropes that moved from the center of Travis’ back to connect to his wrists and lingered over the knot that joined the two. “You ever see anything like this in the military?” He studied Jessie’s face.

“No, I haven’t.” She studied the groups of knots as well. “Can I borrow that penlight?” Dr. Lindquist handed it over to her and she carefully used it to push down on the rope that bound Travis’ arms. Applying pressure caused three of the other knots to slide, applying tension across the body. She moved to the front of the chair and did the same thing with the bindings around his ankles. Again, some of the knots loosened, while others tightened.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

She shook her head, handing the light back to the medical examiner. “I guess we really won’t know until he’s freed from these, but I think this is one piece of rope, tied in such a way that any movement he made triggered certain points to constrict and others to relax. That would explain how he was able to struggle for so long before ultimately being strangled.”

“Look here,” Dr. Lindquist said, bending down to shine the light on the man’s hands. “Defensive wounds on the wrists and fingers. He tried to get out, probably realized too late that struggling was only making things worse. Look at these indentations -” he pointed out the raw areas on the man’s wrists that had begun to purple. “The skin beneath his fingernails is raw, flecked with dried blood from his clawing at the ropes.”

“Christ,” Alex breathed. “Who could do something like that?”

“That’s what you’re here to figure out,” the doctor said.

“Can you tell us the time of death?” Alex asked.

“I’ll check the liver temperature to give you a best estimate, but judging from the blood pooling in his extremities, and the level of rigor setting in, I’d say this man has been dead for about twelve hours.” He frowned, and moved closer to Travis’ face, shining the light into his eyes. “There’s no significant petechiae in the eyes or the mouth.” He saw the confusion on Alex’s face. “The little red dots caused by the bursting of blood vessels that occur with sudden strangulation.”

“More evidence that this was done slowly over time,” Jessie said, her voice grim.

Alex gave a quick nod to Dr. Lindquist. “Hey, are you having him transported to your office like that, or cutting the rope off him here?”

Dr. Lindquist thought about the question. “If possible, I’d like to get him to the table like this. Then work on freeing him from the ropes under more controlled conditions. But logistically I’m not sure that will be possible. Either way, I’ll be able to get a better idea of what we are dealing with once I have him in the lab.”

“I’ll leave that to you,” Alex replied. “Be sure to give the rope to the CSIs. See what they can find.”

Lindquist rolled his eyes. “Gee, good thing you told me to do that, otherwise I might have thrown it in the trash when I was done.” He didn’t wait for an answer but bent back to examining the body.

Jessie and Alex walked out, stepping into the fresh air. Alex studied her face. “I know that look. Are you thinking that this is somehow connected to your robbery?”

Jessie stared into the distance, her lips pursed. “I don’t know. But it seems strange that one of the most secure neighborhoods in Pine Haven has a break in, and then a few nights later, a murder.” She nodded with her chin at a woman climbing out of a shiny black Jaguar sedan as she rushed towards the policeman that had stopped her car before it could reach the house. “Looks like you’re going to be busy speaking with the family. Maybe you could find out if the victim had any enemies that might have wanted him dead.”

Alex nodded. “And you?”

Jessie stared at the woman who was obviously distraught, and motioning for her children to stay in the car. She appeared terrified and was speaking rapidly to the officers as a second woman approached on foot, hugging the first in an attempt to calm her. “Interesting. That woman consoling our victim’s wife is Everly Wilson. My break-in client.”

“Interesting indeed,” Alex said. “Looks like those two are awfully chummy. Wonder what they’re talking about?”

Jessie stepped off the porch. “Well, given the circumstances, I think we need to find out.”

5

Jessie could feel the panic rolling off the woman standing in front of her luxury sedan. She was tall, her blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Her designer sunglasses did little to hide the rising anxiety in her eyes. She moved hurriedly toward the police tape, expensive shoes clicking on the paved driveway, her hand gripping her phone like a lifeline. In the car, a face pressed against the passenger window, watching with wide eyes as her mother approached the scene.

A uniformed officer blocked her path to the house and spoke to her in low, firm tones. Jessie could see the woman was barely holding it together. Her hand shook as she raised it to her chest, her words coming out in clipped bursts that Jessie couldn’t quite make out.

Alex peeled away from Jessie, walking up to the officer and flashing his badge. “It’s okay,” he said calmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “I’m the detective on site. Mrs. Benton, is it?”

The woman nodded frantically. “Please, what’s going on? I need to know what happened!” Her head whipped around, taking in the scene in front of her house.

Alex raised a hand, forcing as much calm into his expression as he could muster. “I understand, ma’am. And I’m here to explain everything to you. But before we do that, can we move away from the car a bit?” He glanced at the girl staring at them. “Can we do that? I promise I’ll take you inside after we speak.”

Everly Wilson started to take a step forward, determined to stay close to the woman. Alex nodded politely for her to stay back.

“It’s okay, Everly,” the woman said. “Let me talk to the detective and I’ll see you in a few. Just… stay here with Ashley.” She cast a worried eye towards the Jaguar.

Everly agreed turning back towards the car and catching a glimpse of Jessie headed her way. She turned, her jaw dropping at the sight of the private investigator. She glanced at the girl in the car, the look etched on her face matched her mother’s, and stepped forward to greet Jessie. “Hey. What are you doing here?” She looked much like she had earlier that morning at the lake—polished, poised, but nervous energy radiated from her now. Her eyes darted between Jessie and the house. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to physically shield herself from the situation.

Jessie kept her expression neutral. “I consult with the Pine Haven Police Department from time to time. I was with the detective when the call came in.”

Everly frowned and her eyes darted away, clearly unsettled. “Is it…bad?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I can’t say much right now. But it’s serious enough that the police will be here for a while.” Jessie looked at the shaken woman. “Everly, what are you doing here?”

Everly bit her lip, her eyes flicking towards the house where Alex had placed an arm on the now distraught woman’s shoulder. “Travis…is he…? Has something happened to him?”

Jessie remained silent for a beat, letting the weight of the question settle. “I’m sorry, I can’t give out any details.” She moved her head slightly, drawing the Everly’s eyes back to her. “What brought you up here? I saw you talking to Mrs. Benton. Are the two of you close?”

Everly started tom shake her head before her words tumbled out. “I mean, not really. Everyone in The Glades knows everyone else. Our daughters are very close, so we do have contact.”

Jessie nodded. Something about the way the two of them were interacting made her think they knew one another better than Everly was letting on. “What about the husbands? Any connection between the two of them?”

Everly shook her head quickly. “No. Other than seeing each other at summer barbeques. Most of the families here keep to themselves. That’s why we come here, for peace and quiet and privacy.” Her eyebrows shot up and she gave Jessie a startled look. “Oh, God. Are you thinking that whatever happened here could be tied to…” Her voice trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

They were interrupted by the car door opening and the girl who had been sitting in the passenger side climbed out. “Mom?” She started towards Alex and her mother.

Everly stopped her, taking the teenager by the arm. “Ashley, wait. Your mom wants you to stay here until she figures out what’s going on.”

The girl tried to shake her arm loose. “No. Something is wrong. Where’s dad? Why are all these people here? Has he been arrested?”

Jessie filed the girl’s choice of words away, just as she pulled away from Everly and started to run towards her mother. Everly started after her but was no match for the teen.

Jessie watched as the girl approached her mother and Alex. Brief words were exchanged before the girl’s grief filled scream echoed across the expansive grounds. She collapsed forward, falling into her mother’s arms. All Alex could do was rest a reassuring hand on the child as she and her mother sobbed.

Everly stopped, one hand over her mouth as she took in the grief-stricken scene. She turned, her face ashen, and Jessie could read the answers to questions she had not been able to answer in the woman’s face.

“I’m so sorry,” Jessie whispered.

Everly turned her attention to the mother and daughter clinging to one another. “I can’t imagine what Trisha must be feeling right now. How awful. I…I need to get back home to my kids.” Her eyes grew large. Jessie could almost see the fear and disturbing thoughts running through the woman’s mind.

“Everly, I know your husband doesn’t want the police involved, and I can respect that. But can I at least take a look inside your home? I need to see where the break in happened.”

Jessie watched the woman’s face. She could tell Everly wanted to comply, but there was reluctance in her eyes.

“I know how important it is to keep this just between us. But I can’t help you if I can’t properly do my job. I understand why you think the break-in is the result of your husband’s potential wandering, but considering what just happened a few houses down from you…”

Everly was nodding her head before Jessie could finish her train of thought. “Yeah, of course. That makes sense. So, you do think there might be a connection.”

Jessie held up a hand. “I didn’t say that. But, given the circumstances, it might be wise to err on the side of caution. And out of respect for your fears, I can certainly look around at a time that works for you. Maybe when your husband will be out for a couple of hours?”

Everly thought for a moment. “He plays golf every other day at nine. He’ll leave the house tomorrow morning around eight-thirty if that will work for you.”

“I’ll make it work. I’ll see you at a quarter till nine. Do me a favor, I know you said nothing was taken but double sweep the house and make certain. Also, don’t clean the house anymore.”

Everly frowned. “Don’t clean? But what will the housecleaner do all day?” The look Jessie gave her caused a streak of crimson to climb the woman’s neck. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just been so on edge lately. And this -” she gestured towards the expansive house – “isn’t helping. I have children, Jessie. Now, I was already worried about them, but now it’s for a completely different reason.”

Jessie’s demeanor softened as she glanced over at Alex as he stood helplessly trying to console a mother and daughter who had just been told they had lost a husband and father. Her mind drifted back to the image of Travis Benton tied to a dining room chair. “And Everly? Keep your doors locked if you’re not already doing that.”

She knew that many residents of Pine Haven didn’t think twice about locking their homes at night. She could only imagine the level of security the ultra-rich residents of The Glades must feel.

She waited until the paramedics rolled the stretcher out of the house before approaching Alex. The body of Travis Benton was zipped inside a dark, plastic baggie and strapped to the gurney. She watched as a mother grasped her daughters head to her bosom, protecting her from the sight as she reached Alex’s side.

“Terrible,” the detective said. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to come home to this.” He turned solemnly to Jessie. “Anything from your client?”

She shook her head. “Not really. But she did agree to let me come take a look at the crime scene tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know if I spot anything that might suggest the two crimes could be connected in anyway. Did the crime techs have an idea as to how the perp may have gotten inside the house?”

“The front door was locked from the inside. The back doors leading into the house from the deck were open. That’s where we assume the point of entry was.”

Jessie nodded. “I’ll double check the Wilson house and see if there might be a match for that M.O. What now?”

Alex pointed at the tall, decorative streetlamps that dotted the periphery of the drive and the entrance to the Benton house. “The wife has given us permission to go through the security coverage stored in their cloud account. We can do that from the station.”

Officer Feely walked out of the house and motioned to Alex. “I was just coming to find you guys. The officer questioning the guard at the gatehouse says you need to get down there. There’s something you need to see.”

6

It was a short drive from the Benton house back to the gatehouse. Jessie and Alex parked along the side of the pavement just outside the guard house and then made their way to the tiny room that acted as the gateway to the exclusive enclave.

For such a monied community, the guardhouse was surprisingly light on luxuries. There was a tiny desk on which sat an older desktop computer with a black and white monitor beside it. A shelf attached to one of the walls held a single hotplate, a microwave and a coffee pot. The only natural light that poured into the space came through a small, sliding window that looked out onto the drive that cars had to pass in order to enter the Glades.

The same elderly man that Jessie and Alex had seen on their drive in was sitting in a spindly wooden chair in front of the computer. A police officer stood over his shoulder looking down at the black and white monitor.

Alex approached, his hand extended. “Hey, Krews,” he said, shaking the officer’s hand. “Did you find something for us?”

The officer nodded, then turned to Jessie. “Hi, Jessie. Nice to see you again.”

She smiled and shook his hand, returning the greeting.

Officer Krews thumbed in the direction of the man sitting at the tiny desk. “This is James Poole. He works the guardhouse from four to ten at night.”

The elderly man moved to stand up, but Alex held up his hand. “Nice to meet you sir, but no need to get up. I’m Alex, the detective on the case, and this is Jessie Night. She’s a consultant with the Pine Haven PD. Care to tell us what you found?”

The man gave him a sharp, nervous nod. His uniform was neatly pressed, but the way he sat hunched over a monitor made it clear he was deeply rattled. His skin was ruddy and deeply lined from years of exposure to driving wind and burning sun. His bright blue eyes were watery and filed with confusion. He was clearly out of his depth. When he spoke, his voice, while deep and strong, wavered, devoid of any confidence. “Well, I was helping Officer Krews here as best. I told him no strangers had come through, or visitors, in the last forty-eight hours. A lot of the homes are still empty, and the owners are just starting to come back.”

“Are there any full-time residents that live here?” Jessie asked.

The man nodded. “A few, but not very many.”

“Can you provide us a list of all the residents, and mark the ones that are her year-round?” Alex asked.

“Yes, sir, I can do that.”

Alex looked over at Officer Krews, letting him know they were anxious to see what they had found.

The policeman cleared his throat. “I asked if there was an overnight guard, and he told me there isn’t. That if there are any late-night visitors, the residents can let them in remotely and the system automatically snaps a pic of their license plate as well a recording of who let them in and at what time.”

“Were there any visitors last night, or the night before?” Alex asked.

James shook his head. “No. And, I even pulled the logs for the last three weeks. Unfortunately, that’s as long as we maintain the records before it automatically starts rewriting, no matter how full the memory might be. There have been no after-hours visitors in that time.”

Jessie frowned, not particularly impressed with the setup, but also recognizing the limitations the man was working with. “We will also need a list of any visitors during daytime hours as well.”

“Not a problem,” he answered, turning back to the computer. “But part of the monitoring system for the community is also a network of closed-circuit cameras that look out over the public spaces and the docks. So, I started pouring through the footage and noticed this.” His fingers played numbly across the keyboard and the tiny monitor next to it flared to life. Across the bottom of the screen was a date and time stamp. It started on the afternoon of the day prior. James used the mouse to control the speed of the playback and sped through the timeline until he stopped at 9:15 on the previous night.

At first, the frame looked empty, but then a figure appeared from the tree line. “There.” Poole muttered, pointing to the screen as he paused the grainy image so they could see that the figure was tall, with a slim build.

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Tall. And judging from the build I’d guess a male around six-one.”

Jessie leaned in. “Where is this?”

“There’s a nine-hole golf course on the property,” the guard answered. “This is the seventh fairway. It’s one of the few that borders the open woods.” He clicked the mouse allowing the playback to resume.

The man on the screen was strolling casually across the grounds, as if he had every right to be there. He wasn’t hurried, wasn’t trying to hide. He wore dark clothing and moved with an eerie kind of calm. Slung over one shoulder was a large black bag of some kind.

Jessie could hear Alex scribbling furiously in his notepad as they watched the figure continue his leisurely stroll across the greens until he was out of camera view, and disappeared off the screen. “What happened? Where did he go?” the investigator said.

“We lost him on this camera,” said Poole. “But…” He clicked a couple of keys and scrolled through frames marked by different number designations. “We were able to pick him up again on camera eight.”

Jessie felt the tension flood her body as Poole started the playback from another camera. This time, one of the lake docs came into focus, the wooden walkway leading from the water to well landscaped landing. The man appeared once again, but this time on the very periphery of the screen. Half his body was in view. He appeared to step in and out of the frame a few times, lingering almost in view before moving back off screen again.

Alex frowned. “Where is this camera?”

James Poole looked up, his eyes wide with concern. “That’s the dock that leads to the Benton property.”

Alex stood upright, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the monitor. “Do you have any with a different angle? Maybe a better look at this intruder?”

Poole shook his head. “We don’t monitor the personal properties of the residents, just the shoreline of the lake. It’s just luck that this camera catches the edge of the Benton dock.”

“What’s he doing?” asked Alex.

“Play it again,” Jessie said, leaning forward, her hands on the desk next to Poole. He did as she asked. “Can you play it in slow motion?”

A few more clicks and the video repeated, this time moving at one-third the speed of the original.

“Wait. Right there,” Jessie said. “Can you back it…wait, may I?” She reached forward and took control of the mouse as the Poole slid his chair to the side. She re-ran the video, clicked pause, and then stepped through the video frame-by-frame.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

She frowned, pointing to the partial image of the figure on the screen. As she advanced slowly, the intruder’s head seemed to be moving from forward facing to side profile. Each movement was accompanied by his arm lifting and falling.

“What’s he doing?” Alex pondered.

Jessie stopped manipulating the video and looked at her friend. “He’s talking to someone. Someone just out of frame.”

Alex stared at the monitor. “He’s not alone.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call the CSIs and ask them to do a sweep for evidence of a second person at the crine scene. I’ll also have them comb the area around the dock where this footage was taken.”

“At least we know how he got in the house now,” Jessie said. “Through the deck.”

Alex walked back over to join them. “They’re going to process the scene and let us know the results.” He turned to James Poole. The man was noticeably more nervous as the video footage had played out. “Thank you, Mr. Poole. You’ve been a big help.”

Relief flooded the man’s features. “Anything I can do to help. I feel so bad about this.” His expression changed and fear began to creep across his face. “Do you think…I mean…was this something the community needs to worry about?”

Jessie offered him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure the Pine Haven police Department is going to do all it can to figure that out and act accordingly.”

Alex nodded. “But right now, I need you to keep this quiet. We’ll be in touch. I’m also going to send someone over here in a bit to collect the hard drives containing this footage. And I want you to comb through every other camera footage on teh property with Officer Krews, that you haven’t checked as of yet. Let us know if you find anything else.”

The man stood and extended his hand. “Like I said, I’m here to help.”

Alex and Jessie headed out of the gatehouse, making their way back to their cars.

“Thank you for reassuring him back there,” Alex said.

Jessie sighed. “It was the least I could do. That poor man was shaken to his core by this.”

“What are your initial thoughts?”

She stopped at the door to her Jeep and turned to face him. “Did you see the casual way that man was moving? He wasn’t worried about being seen and he wasn’t in a hurry. He knew where he was going and that he would be able to take his time. There are still a lot of variables to account for, but one thing I can say for certain is that this was not random.”

Alex told her he would notify her as soon as he heard anything, then turned to head for his own vehicle as she fired up the Jeep’s engine and pulled away. She tapped the steering wheel as she headed out of The Glades, her thought’s turning dark.

There was something off about the man on the monitor. Something too calm, too methodical. He hadn’t come to the Benton house by accident, of that she was certain. And now, the possibility that he wasn’t working alone only made everything feel even more sinister.

The Jeep lurched slightly as she eased it out of the entrance to The Glades and then turned right onto the main highway. At first, she thought she missed it – something flashed in the periphery of her vision. Turning her head to the right, she saw it.

There was someone standing behind one of the trees just off the property line where The Glades began. She slowed her Jeep to a crawl, staring hard, fully expecting her eyes to have played a trick on her mind.

Just when she was convinced nothing had been there, a solitary figure broke from behind the tree she had been scanning and bolted into the thicker woods.

Jessie slammed the Jeep to a stop, crunching the gravel beneath the tires. Hopping out, she didn’t think twice about darting across the short field, until she plunged into the trees where the shadow had disappeared.

7

Jessie’s jaw clenched as she threw an arm up to brush aside the low hanging branches that threatened to ensnarl her as she barreled through the forest. Ahead of her, the figure had a significant head start, but had hesitated, stopping to look around. Either they were getting their bearings or were trying to decide which way would be best for losing Jessie in the dense woods.

The figure darted left, and Jessie followed, realizing they were running away from The Glades and the lake. Where she was being led, it was unknown territory and that thought made her wary. Swallowed by the deepening shadows of the forest, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. A primal warning system that had saved her life more than once. Still, she followed, increasing the length of her stride to cover more of the ground that separated them.

The distance between the closed. Whoever was fleeing from her wasn’t an experienced athlete or runner. “Hey, you! Stop where you are!” despite being winded, her voice rang out clearly. “I have a gun!”

Immediately the figure came to a halt, arms shooting into the air in surrender.

Jessie faltered, slowing her pace until she stopped a few feet behind them. She wasn’t expecting that line to work, and when it did, she stumbled deciding on what to do next. “Keep your hands in the air and don’t turn around until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

The figure wore a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, which fell back as they nodded enthusiastically. A mop of unruly, curly hair told her she was dealing with a man. But her initial assessment told her it wasn’t the same one that had been captured in the video.

“Please…don’t shoot. I swear I didn’t do anything.” The voice had the timbre of a teenager.

Jessie kept her eyes on him as she stepped to his side. “Turn around.”

He spun slowly, hands still in the air, and Jessie was facing a young man that couldn’t have been more than fifteen. His face was slim, and a few strands of hair were plastered to his forehead. He dropped a trembling hand to slowly push them away from his eyes before raising it to rejoin the other. Something about his eyes seemed familiar and Jessie nodded to him. “You can drop your hands. Just keep them where I can see them.”

He complied, his gaze sweeping down her. “Hey, you don’t have a gun.”

“Yes, I do. I just don’t have it with me. Who are you? Do you live around here.”

The boy stammered, his eyes darting back and forth. “My name’s Tad. And I live just over there.” He jutted his chin towards the lake.

“You live in The Glades? What’s your last name?”

He nodded quickly. “Wilson. I swear, I didn’t mean to cause any problems.”

Jessie relaxed at the mention of his name. “Are you Everly’s son? Tad junior?”

He frowned, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Yeah.”

“And what were you doing hiding in the trees back there? Did you follow your mother here?”

Try as he might, the boy wasn’t able to hide the sudden nerves that played across his frame. He shifted his weight from side to side, glancing furtively to his right.

Jessie sighed. “Please don’t run. I don’t want to have to chase you again. Actually, I won’t chase you. I know where you live, I’ll just go have a talk with your mother -” She turned away, taking a step back towards the lake.

“No, wait,” Tad called after her. “I wasn’t following mom…I mean, not this time. I was following you.”

Jessie stopped in her tracks, her back stiffening as she slowly turned o face the teen. “Me? Why in the world would you be following me?”

“I... I just wanted to see,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible.

“See what?” Jessie pressed. Her own curiosity was starting to rise.

Tad’s gaze skittered away from hers, fixing on a point somewhere over her shoulder. His lips twisted to one side and Jessie could tell he was trying to work up the courage to speak what was on his mind. “Go ahead. Spit it out. What did you want to see?”

The boy took in a deep breath. “I saw you and mom talking this morning down by the lake. I thought something weird was up when she got up early and came downstairs wearing new workout attire and tennis shoes. She never leaves the house like that. The trainer always comes to her. And she was acting weird. She said she was going for a run when I asked what was up.” He let out a sharp ha that came out close to a bark. “Right. I acted like I didn’t notice, but then decided to follow her. I didn’t get close but saw her meet up with you.” He narrowed his eyes, staring at the investigator.

“Your mother and I had some business to discuss,” Jessie replied, not wanting to say anything that might alarm the boy or betray his mother’s trust in her.

His eyes narrowed even further. “What kind of business? My mom doesn’t work.”

Jessie shrugged, holding his stare. “That’s between me and your mother, I’m afraid.”

“I know what she’s been up to.” this time his voice carried a hint of steel. “I’m not stupid. I’m the one that set her account up in the video game and I see her tracking dad.” There was a glint in his eyes Jessie didn’t like. “She thinks dad’s seeing somebody again.”

Again? Jessie moved closer. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but it sounds like something best discussed with your family, not a stranger out in the middle of the woods.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

“Why? Is it dangerous out here? Did something happen in the Benton house?”

She paused, weighing her words. “There is a lot of police activity right now. I’ll walk you home so that none of them mistake you for… someone that shouldn’t be here. The way that I did.”

Tad shuffled back a few steps, his eyes bored into hers. Over the course of their conversation, fear had diminished and had been replaced by a child’s raw hurt. “Are you…” -his voice dropped to a whisper, touched by fear and anger – “her? Are you the other woman my dad’s been talking to?”

Jessie felt like someone had knocked the wind from her lungs. “What? No. Absolutely not.” She took a step forward, her arms open and at her side. She stopped advancing when he started to draw back. “I promise you. I am not…that person. I met your mother this morning for the first time. I’ve never even laid eyes on your father. Never met the man. I swear it.” She didn’t drop her eyes.

Didn’t look away.

She needed the boy to believe her.

She felt stuck, unable to adequately communicate. There was only so much she could say. How could she wade into the murky waters of suspicion and betrayal that were circling this kid’s family? “Whatever business I may have with your mother, it is only to help her. I have no involvement with your father on any level. I promise you that.”

He held her gaze, searching her face. Finally, he broke off, his eyes dropping to his shoes. “I’m sorry. I just… I guess I don’t know what I was thinking. Gia thinks it’s happening again and I… I just needed to know.”

There was that word again. “Gia? She’s your…?”

“Sister. My twin. She spends a lot of time with mom and says something is definitely going on with her.”

Jessie didn’t answer as she turned slowly and waited for Tad to join her on the march back towards the lake.

“Um, do you have to tell mom about this?” Tad asked, cutting the silence.

“What’s there to tell? That I somehow got turned around in the woods here and you offered to lead me back to the lake?” It sounded ridiculous to her ears, even as she was saying it. But she wanted to switch the direction the boy’s mind had been headed.

They walked on in silence, until coming to an incline that broke away from the lake.

“This leads to side of our property,” Tad said. “You don’t have to follow me up. I promise I’ll go right home.”

Jessie looked at the dirt rise, frowning, and then swept her head from left to right. “Tad, I’m not familiar with this part of the lake. Do all the houses have ways to enter and exit like this? By making your way down to the water’s edge?”

Tad stopped, planting his hands on his hips. “Not all of them. Most, probably. I mean, that’s how we all get together for parties during the season.”

“We?” Jessie asked.

“Um, the teens. We have our own get togethers down by the lake and use the trails behind our properties to meet up. Well, the trails without cameras I mean.”

Jessie’s ears perked up. “So you kids know where there are blind spots in the security surveillance?”

Tad hesitated. “Well, sure. But when you say it like that, it sounds more nefarious than it is.”

Jessie filed the information way, mulling over its potential use in both her’s and Alex’s investigations. “Hey, tad, one more question. Were you and your sister close with Ashley Benton.”

A sheepish grin broke out on his face. “Yeah. She’s really cool.” The blush that broke out told Jessie he thought of her as more than just “cool”. He half waved and turned to make his way up the embankment and out of sight.

Jessie waited a beat, her ears straining until his footsteps were out of range and then turned to retrace their path. Her mind buzzed, replaying the conversation with Everly and overlaying it on top of the things her son had just told her. Maybe the break in and the gruesome murder at the Benton estate was just a coincidence. Anything was possible.

But she didn’t believe that. Like she had told Alex many times before, there was no such thing as coincidence.

8

The Pine Haven Police Department buzzed with the steady noise of ringing phones, the murmur of voices, and the occasional slam of a filing cabinet. The smell of stale coffee, mixed with the faint tang of printer ink hung in the air. Jessie made her way through the desks in the large, open space until she spotted Alex. His new, larger cubicle squatted at the back of the room, facing the wall. The move up from the cramped desk near the main walkway was a well-earned upgrade, marking Alex’s promotion to detective.

Jessie stopped at the edge of the cubicle, taking in the clutter of paperwork, open files, and the half-empty coffee mug sitting dangerously close to a stack of folders. Alex looked up, his face lighting up as he motioned for her to come in.

“Jessie, hey. Have a seat. Sorry for the mess.” He gestured vaguely at the files scattered across his desk, then pulled out a spare chair for her. Jessie lowered herself into it, one brow arched as she scanned the chaos.

“Looks like you’re settling into the new digs,” she remarked, her lips curling in a smile. “I thought you said there was nothing going on since your promotion. Yet all this -” she gestured to the paperwork stacked around him – “suggests otherwise.”

Alex grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, well, it’s mostly stuff from my old desk that I haven’t filed away yet. You’d think with more space I’d keep things a bit more organized, but I guess I need to work on that. Gram always used to say ‘You can’t outrun a mess by giving it more space.’ ” He cleared a few files to make room, the label on one of them catching Jessie’s eye—Benton, Travis.

Jessie leaned in slightly. “So, how’d it go at The Glades? Any luck talking to the neighbors?”

Alex sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I went door to door. The thing is, most of the houses are still empty. It’s not quite summer season yet, so a lot of those homes are just sitting there. Out of the few people that were actually around, no one saw or heard anything. It’s like Travis’s murder happened in a bubble—nobody saw or heard anything.” He rocked his chair back onto two legs, letting out a deep sigh. “And when I asked if they would mind letting me check their security footage from the night we saw our visitor, they asked for my warrant. These people love their privacy. I mean, it’s not like they don’t care. You can tell they’re shaken up by what happened. It’s just that they also don’t want to get involved.”

“So, word has already spread about what happened?”

“No details, thankfully. But yes. This is Pine Haven, and you’ve been here long enough now to realize there is no such thing as keeping a lid on things. Word of a new killer in town spreads quicker than Angela’s honey almond butter on a hot bagel.”

Jessie frowned, the lines deepening across her forehead. “Figures,” she muttered. “Whoever this killer is, he’s not gonna make it easy for us.” She paused, her eyes studying Alex’s desk for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “Look, I know we each have our own cases—I’m working for Everly Wilson, you’re handling the Travis murder—but I think we need to be more intentional about comparing notes. Whatever’s going on, there may or may not be threads connecting these cases, and we can’t afford to miss any overlap.”

Alex nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. I mean, unless you’ve resigned, you’re still considered a consultant with the department. So, there’s no issue with me sharing my info with you. But doesn’t your client confidentiality tie your hands a bit? I mean, I know how seriously you take your obligations to your work.” He dropped the chair back onto all fours.

Jessie let out a slow breath, her gaze drifting around the bustling department. “It does, and yes, I take that very seriously. I refuse to breach anyone’s trust here. Everly’s case is sensitive, and there are things she’s told me that I can’t—won’t—share without her say-so. But at the same time, a man was killed in the same community, just a few houses away. If, and something tells me we just might, we find common threads, then we need to share.”

Alex nodded, his jaw tightening. “You’re right. I don’t need doc Lindquist to tell us this was a methodical murder. Whoever did it was not new to killing. And that’s a dangerous type – not one to just move on. What are your thoughts on it? Any profile of this killer floating around in the back of your mind?”

Jessie gave a half smile. “Maybe. But I need to hear the autopsy findings first. Then we can work up a profile. Together. It’s a skill that will come in handy for you, now that you’re a hot shot detective.”

Alex grunted. “This is what I get for complaining about the lack of work. Why couldn’t it have been something a little easier for my first case?”

“Because if it were easy, anyone would solve it.”

“I suppose. So, what are next steps for you in your break in investigation?”

“I’ll get a tour of the home in the morning. I have a couple more questions for Everly as well. But if nothing was taken, and the scene was never processed, there’s only so much more I can do. But who knows. Maybe I’ll stumble into something will help. What about you?”

“Waiting on the good doctor’s autopsy report and logging all the notes from the very unhelpful neighbors.” He glanced painfully at the stack of paperwork on his desk. “Oh, and trying to wrangle this mess.” His phone buzzed beside the computer keyboard on his desk and he flipped it over, staring at the screen. “Well, scratch all that. Looks like the officer that was supposed to pick up the rest of the security footage downloads just got called to a fender-bender out on Carlson Gap Highway. Guess that means I get to go back over to the guard station and pick it up. Wanna take a ride?”

Jessie looked at her watch. “I would, but I have a dog to feed and walk.” She smiled as she stood up. “You really will do anything to escape cleaning up this desk, huh? Hopefully this paperwork doesn’t bury you alive before you can catch this guy.”

The detective rolled his eyes. “Next time you see this desk, you’re not going to believe your eyes.”

Jessie’s lips turned up in smile. “Text me if the CSIs find anything new on that footage, or if they can get a clear picture of the intruder.”

Alex followed her out of his cubicle and down the hall that led to the department exit. “Will do.”

Jessie turned to face him as they stepped out of the police station and into the fresh air. “Also, I’m going to look into any connection that might exist between Tad Wilson and Travis Benton. See if they’ve ever crossed paths in their private or business lives.”

“Good idea. Once I get back from The Glades, I’ll email you the file on what we have so far on Benton.” In the parking lot, they separated, each heading for their respective vehicles. “Give Blizzard a good scrubbing behind the ears for me.” He gave her an overhead wave before climbing into his car.

Jessie watched her friend pull out of the parking lot before climbing into her Jeep. Tension crept into her frame as she shifted into gear and eased out of the lot. She couldn’t help but think she was missing something. Something about the scene at the Benton house.

She shook her head, knowing that the more she reached for it, the farther it would retreat. Whatever it was, would work itself out in her subconscious. There was a familiarity to the kill, no way something like that was a random robbery. That meant that whoever had committed the crime, could have already left town.

For the sake of Pine Haven, part of her hoped that was true. But for the sake of the Benton family, she wanted to catch the person, or persons, responsible for such a heinous act. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. Whoever had killed Travis Benton would face justice.

Even if that meant she had to go to the ends of the Earth and drag them screaming back to Pine Haven.

9

Alex checked his watch as he guided his car around the winding, wooded roadway that led to The Glades. His mind wandered, thinking about the gruesome scene at the Benton house. It wasn’t just the brutality of the crime that bothered him, it was the methodical way the killer had subdued Travis Benton. The careful planning, the deliberate precision—it felt calculated, almost clinical. The killer had taken his time, ensuring that Benton couldn’t fight back, and that detail gnawed at Alex. He had to fight the urge to pull out his notepad and glance at what he had scrawled inside. Instead, he began to scroll through his mental checklist.

Everything he had learned during his training flashed through his mind. Was he seeing everything from all angles? Had he neglected something small that could make or break the case? Had he secured the crime scene appropriately? Could there have been evidence he might have missed collecting?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts and the hollow weight that had threatened to settle in his stomach. He had checked everything. Nothing had been missed.

Still. that what if lingered.

“Come on, Alex. It’s not like you’re new to this. It’s just an extension of your police work. You’ve solved murders before.”

He frowned. But had he? He had helped Jessie stop killers. Together, they had put an end to human traffickers and even government assassins.

But on his own, the most he had ever been tasked with was breaking up drunken fist fights at the Gray Eagle and busting the occasional out of town shoplifter at the liquor store.

Did that qualify him to be the lead detective in a grisly murder investigation. He had to reel himself in. Technically, he was the lead, but only because he was also the only detective in Pine Haven.

He tried to reassure himself that he wasn’t in this alone. He had the entire Pine Haven Police Department on his side, a brand-new crime lab and a team of excellent CSIs at his disposal. The county medical examiner was one of the best in the business. The mayor was very generous with the town budget in seeing that the department had everything they needed to keep Pine Haven safe. The community economy relied heavily on tourism dollars. And to keep that money rolling in, they had to show the town was safe as kittens.

And if course there was Jessie. When she had first come to town, he had viewed her as someone he could learn from. She had inspired him to take the detective’s test and get his badge. He wanted to see things the way she did. Handle himself the way she carried herself. But the more he had gotten to know her, the more he realized those were shoes he’d never be able to fill. He knew it was experience…she had years on him. But what if it were more than that? What if it was an innate skill set that couldn’t be taught? Something he would never possess?

His knuckles whitened as he exhaled slowly. “No, stop it,” he muttered under his breath. He needed to focus. Doubt would only paralyze him, make him second-guess himself, and that was the last thing he needed right now. He couldn’t afford to fall into that trap.

His stomach settled when he saw the ornate sign marking the entrance to The Glades. He slowed to little more than a crawl as he turned, his headlights shining on an open gate and a darkened guardhouse. His watched showed it was just after nine. He had left specific orders for the gates to remain closed until further notice. He had also requested that the company supplying the guards would increase their rotation, ensuring someone manned the gate at all times.

Easing the car to a stop just inside the gates, he climbed out and headed for the structure. “Mr. Poole? It’s Alex Thomas with the Pine Haven police. You in there?”

No answer.

Alex made his way around to the front door of the little booth, hesitating when he saw it open. He reached forward, rapping the door with his knuckles. “James Poole, it’s Alex. I’m here to get the drive with the footage you were compiling for us.”

He pushed the door further open and slowly felt along the inside wall until he found the light switch and flipped it on. Can lights imbedded in the pitched ceiling flared to life, flooding the empty space with ample light.

Alex stood in the doorway and took in the scene. The room appeared exactly as it had when he left. The small desk with the monitoring equipment was undisturbed, the small hotplate and coffee maker in their place on the shelf. Everything seemed as it should be with the exception that the house was unmanned.

He walked over to the computer, a white envelope lying next to the monitor catching his eye. The word “Surveillance” was written in blue pen. He lifted the envelops and could feel the outline of something small and rectangular inside.

“Well, at least you left us the footage,” he mumbled to himself.

He was about to turn and walk out when something hard collided with the back of his head. He collapsed in a heap, the thoughts rushing through his mind suddenly blacked out.

10

Jessie leaned against the counter, arms crossed, as she watched the one-hundred-pound, white German shepherd mow through a bowl of dried kibble. The big dog finished in record time and began licking the bowl before looking up with pleading, amber eyes.

“Uh-uh,” Jessie said. “You know that doesn’t work on me. I gave you seconds every time you pulled that, you’d five hundred pounds in no time. So, no sir. It’s time for your evening walk.”

Despite the fact that the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, the air still had a muggy feel to it. It wasn’t yet heavy with the evening humidity that would strike in a few weeks, but it enough to make Jessie long for the cool summer evenings of the Colorado mountains.

She trailed along behind Blizzard as the shepherd nosed his way down to the lake’s edge, sniffing for the perfect spot to do his business. Jessie waited patiently for him and then they made their way along one of the myriad paths that crisscrossed around the lake. She picked one that would take them on a half hour trek before winding back to her house.

It would let her stretch her legs and her mind, giving her space to process the lingering questions about the scene at the Benton household.

She needed that right now. Jessie kept her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans as Blizzard trotted ahead, his nose low to the ground. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the Benton crime scene. It wasn’t the death or the brutality of the strangulation that got to her. She’d seen worse, been through worse. It was the ropes—the intricate, methodical way they had been tied—that her subconscious kept chewing on.

There was something about the knots. Something deliberate, almost ritualistic. The way they were tied reminded her of ceremonial patterns she’d seen during her military service—carefully crafted, as if every twist and loop held a deeper meaning. It wasn’t just about restraining someone; it felt like a ritual with a purpose beyond the practical. The way each loop intertwined, the meticulous symmetry of it, the precision. It wasn’t just a method of binding; it felt like a statement. A message. But what was it? Jessie closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the lake lapping against the shore fill her senses. It felt like the answer was there, just beyond her grasp, a fragment that refused to reveal itself.

Blizzard’s bark pulled her back. He was standing a few paces ahead, looking back at her, his tail wagging slowly. Looking at the dog, a sense of comfort washed over Jessie. He had a way of grounding her, of reminding her that no matter how dark her thoughts might get, he’d be there when she found her way back. The evening air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, and the rustle of leaves added a soft, almost soothing backdrop to their walk. Jessie smiled, her lips barely lifting. “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” she muttered, catching up to him. She gave his head a quick pat as they continued down the path.

Was this a one-off killing, or was Pine Haven looking at the beginning of something much worse? A serial killer? She frowned. Pine Haven wasn’t exactly the kind of place that drew people like that.

At least it wasn’t until she arrived on the scene.

It was quiet, tucked away, picturesque community filled with the working class. It also happened to be a sanctuary for the wealthy who wanted to escape their hectic lives. Maybe that was it. Maybe that isolation, that quiet, was what had drawn the killer here. A place where he could work without interference, without eyes on him. A place where he could blend in, unnoticed, among those who didn’t ask questions.

But from past experience, that didn’t feel right either. Pine Haven was a community that valued connection. Everyone knew everyone and loved to share gossip. It was a tight-knit community where members watched out for one another. Most serial killers avoided places like this. Isolation could breed too much familiarity for their liking. They lost the ability to meld into a crowd.

At least for most of the year. The summer tourist season had begun, and that changed the makeup of Pine Haven radically.

What if the sudden influx of people was part of what drew the killer to town? Maybe he had been watching, waiting for the right opportunity? Had he chosen Benton specifically, or was it random? Was there something about Benton that made him a target?

During her time in the military, she had seen killers operate in communities where a natural division among the residents occurred. People tended to stick to their own and prying eyes limited where they looked. During tourist season, Pine Haven could become a natural divide.

The haves on one side of the lake, the have nots on the other.

Jessie let out a long breath, her eyes scanning the darkening woods around her. If it was the start of a serial killer, then they were in for a storm. And if the knots were a part of his ritual, then understanding them might be the key to getting ahead of him. She pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over Alex’s contact. She hit dial, listening to the ringing on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” she said when it went to voicemail. “I’ve been thinking. We need to look closer at those knots—the way the ropes were tied. There’s something there, some kind of symbolism maybe. I don’t know yet, but it feels important. Let’s talk tomorrow.” She ended the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket.

It rang almost immediately. Jessie pulled it out, expecting Alex’s name on the screen, but instead, it was an unknown number. She hesitated, then answered. “Jessie Night.”

The voice on the other end spoke quickly, the words sharp and urgent. Jessie’s eyes widened, her body going still. “I’ll be right there.” She looked down at the shepherd, his head cocked to one side as he regarded his human. “Change of plans, boy. Looks like we’re cutting this jaunt short.”

11

Jessie burst through the doors of the Pine Haven Community Hospital’s emergency department entrance. There were two uniformed officers sanding at the nurses’ station as she approached. “Where is he?”

One of the officers held up a hand to calm her. “He’s okay, he’s right in there.” He pointed to one of the medical bays that had been closed off by a curtain.

Without waiting for him to continue, Jessie headed for the bay. The curtain made a metal-on-metal screech as she quickly brushed it aside and stepped through. Alex sat on the edge of a patient gurney, his legs off to one side, a blanket draped around his shoulders. His chin rested on his upper chest, and he held a blue, medical icepack to the back of his head. He looked up and offered a weak smile as Jessie closed the distance between them.

Concerned colored her features as she placed a hand on his.

“I’m alright,” Alex said, his voice weaker than what she was used to hearing. He winced, as if the act of using his voice caused him pain.

“Alex, what happened?”

He let out a long breath. “I swung by the guardhouse at The Glades to pick up the video footage that Mr. Poole was supposed to be getting together for us. Only, he wasn’t there. No one was there. The place was dark and quiet. I went in, found an envelope on the desk with what I assume was a hard drive in it…and that’s it. Someone hit me from behind. Next thing I know, one of the neighbors was shaking me and had called 911.”

Jessie didn’t bother to hide the concerned look on her face. “I thought the gatehouse was to be manned twenty-four-seven until this got solved.”

“Best laid plans,” Alex replied. “Wires must have gotten crossed in the communication somehow.”

Jessie took a half step back. “And why didn’t you call for backup before going in?” She tried make her voice sound more concerned than annoyed. “You could have been…it could have been worse.”

Alex closed his eyes, nodding slowly as he massaged the ice pack against the back of his head. “I know, I know. It was stupid. But honestly, I guess I just thought the space was too small for anyone to be hiding inside. I didn’t think they would be lurking somewhere outside. Plus, my first thought was for Mr. Poole. I was worried something may have happened to him.”

Jessie couldn’t fault the detective there. During her short time in Pine Haven, she had gotten observe his interactions with the community up close. He loved the residents of the mountain town, and it was obvious they held him in great regard as well. Besides, had she been in his shoes, she would have most likely done the same thing. “Did you get a look at who attacked you?”

He paused, his face twisting into a mask of apprehension. “Well…no, I didn’t see them.”

Jessie sensed there was more that he wasn’t saying. “But…?”

“Go ahead, show her.”

Jessie turned to see Dr. Lindquist standing at the curtain behind her. In his hand he had a pill bottle and a small jar of ointment. He stepped around her, nodding, and walked over to Alex. He held up the pills and placed the bottle on the small, metallic tray sitting next to the gurney. “Take one of these with food if the pain keeps up. This -” he held up the ointment – “gets applied to the area where you were hit. Whatever you were struck with caused more of an abrasion rather than breaking the skin. But still, this will keep it from getting worse.”

Jessie frowned at the man. “Doctor Lindquist. It’s always nice to see you, but why are you here?”

“I was working late on Mr. Benton, and Alex reached out when they brought him in.” He nodded to the detective. “Show her.”

Slowly, Alex removed his free arm from beneath the blanket that covered him. Jessie gasped when she saw his arm.

Along his forearm, was an intricate braid of thin, red, woven, rope. It crossed over and under itself, twisting around the detective’s arm in a pattern of loops and cords that moved upward from his wrist to his elbow.

“What the hell,” Jessie breathed, trying to control the knot that suddenly formed in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes moved from the rope to search Alex’s face, and then back to the binding. She took his hand in hers and turned his arm over, examining the bond from both sides. “Does…does it hurt?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, it’s secure, but not the least bit tight. I was going to cut it off, but the doc suggested I wait until it was photographed, and you got a chance to see it.”

Jessie stared at the red rope, her mind racing. The pattern was intricate, too deliberate to be anything but a message. The knots looked so similar to the ones that had bound Travis Benton—there was no mistaking the connection. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the killer was trying to get inside their heads. Showing them just how vulnerable they were. But in targeting Alex, was it a warning, or a threat they were being sent? She clenched her jaw, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the sterile hospital air.

“This is from the same person,” she murmured, her eyes still fixed on Alex’s arm. “But why leave you alive?”

Alex met her gaze, the vulnerability in his eyes making her stomach tighten. “Maybe they want me to play games. Or maybe they just wanted to scare us. Either way, they could have killed me if they wanted to.”

Jessie swallowed, her throat dry. “This doesn’t make sense. If they wanted to kill you, they had the perfect opportunity. Leaving you like this, with this rope... it’s like they’re taunting us. Like they want us to know they can get to us whenever they want.” She stepped back, studying the knots. “This is psychological. Whoever did this, wanted to make an impact without shedding blood this time.” Her mind was racing. This bit of information was already changing the profile she had been creating.

Jessie felt her pulse quicken. “I’ve seen this type of psychological warfare before. Seen it used by skilled manipulators who want to instill fear before they strike again.”

“Again?” Alex asked. “I guess it was too much to hope they had moved on after killing Travis.”

Dr. Lindquist stepped away from them and cleared his throat. “Maybe they did move on. You said you found an envelope before you were attacked. Is it possible that all they were after was the security footage, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Maybe they were just cleaning up after themselves?”

“Possibly,” Alex said, wincing as he spoke. “I mean, the officer that came to the scene said there was no envelope anywhere.”

Jessie frowned. “I’m sure that was only part of it. Yes, there must have been something on that footage we weren’t meant to see. But if that was it, why do this to Alex?” She gestured toward his arm.

Neither man answered at first. Finally, Alex sighed. “Well, can I at least get this cut off me now? The pictures that were taken of it were sent to both of us, as well as the CSI database back at the office.”

“Sure,” Jessie said, nodding to Dr. Lindquist. “Just be sure to -”

“Give them to the lab techs. I know -” the medical examiner replied.

Jessie forced a smile before turning back to Alex. There was exhaustion etched into his features. He’d taken a hit - both physically and mentally. He was trying to hide it, but she knew all too well what was going through his mind at the moment.

She watched closely as Dr. Lindquist pulled up a rolling, silver stool, adjusted his glasses, and reached for a pair of medical scissors on the metal tray. He turned Alex’s arm over a couple of times, studying the rope. “Just like with Benton, I can’t tell if there is a single point where I can cut, and it will release the entire strip of roping. So, I just have to cut until it works free.” He set about snipping at the binding, pulling and tugging until it slipped free of Alex’s forearm. “Someone definitely loves their knots,” he said under his breath.

Jessie’s spine stiffened at the man’s words, catching Alex’s attention.

“What is it?” the detective said, staring at her.

Jessie shook her head. “Not sure...but I think there might be something to what you just said, doctor.” She glanced at Alex. “We can discuss it later. But for now, what do you need? Other than pain pills.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied. “A couple hours rest and I’ll be ready to go in the morning.”

Dr. Lindquist rolled back from him and shook his head. “No, you will not. And yes, you need rest but not sleep. Just in case you have a concussion, you need to be monitored for the next eight to twelve hours.”

Alex’s eyes grew large. “Doc, I can’t stay here overnight. I hate hospitals, and I have way too much to do.”

Jessie stepped in before the examiner could argue back. “What if he comes home with me? I’ll stay up with him tonight and make sure he’s alright. If anything happens, I’ll call 911 and you.”

Both men looked at her, and finally Dr. Lindquist nodded. “That will work. All you have to do is make sure he doesn’t fall asleep. If he gets hit with a sudden round of nausea or vomiting, or starts experiencing flashing lights, then call medical help immediately. Got it?”

It wouldn’t be Jessie’s first time dealing with a concussion victim, but she just nodded to the doctor, reassuring him she understood.

Lindquist turned to leave the room before adding. “Oh, and I should be finished with the autopsy on Travis Benton around midday tomorrow. I’ll call you and we can discuss findings. I’d say swing back by my office, but -” he nodded in Alex’s direction – “he shouldn’t be travelling so soon unless necessary.”

“Not a problem,” Jessie said. “Just reach out when you’re ready.”

Alex called after the man. “Thank you. And doc…watch your back.”

Lindquist hesitated before continuing through the emergency department and out of site.

Jessie extended an arm for Alex. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. I know a certain large, German shepherd that is going to be happy to see you. And, if you’re up for it, I can bounce ideas off you about a profile I’m building for this killer.”

Alex attempted a smile as he stood, reaching out to Jessie for balance. “Oh yeah. Something tells me that after hearing what you’ve put together on this guy…I wouldn’t want to sleep anyway. So this should be fun.”

12

Blizzard greeted the duo at the door, his ears flattened back, a soft whine emanating from him mas he sniffed at Alex.

“It’s alright, boy. Alex is fine. He’s just had a rough night,” Jessie said, patting the shepherd on his head. The dog whimpered as it followed Alex to the couch, sensing the human’s pain

Jessie helped Alex to settle onto the couch before retrieving an extra pillow from the hall closet to prop him up on and a lightweight blanket to place over him.

Alex shifted his weight, settling back on the pillow. “It’s embarrassing. You making a fuss over me like this. And honestly, why not let me sit in the armchair over there and you at least stretch out on the couch?”

Jessie shook her head sternly. “Not a chance. You’re going to be as comfortable as possible, and I will be keeping an eye out to make sure you’re awake. As a matter of fact, I’m fixing myself a fresh pot of coffee for the night. Can I get you some water?”

Alex worked his lips and swallowed. “Yes, please. I hadn’t realized just how raw my throat feels until you mentioned it.”

Jessie brought over a glass of water with a full pitcher which she placed on the coffee table next to the detective. She made her way back into the kitchen and rummaged through some of the cabinets. “I’m going to heat up some soup for you. It’s store-bought I’m afraid. It’s all I have.” She turned to face Alex. “Of course, I can have something delivered if you’d like. I’m just not sure what you should be eating. Something liquid will be better on your stomach. I don’t want your stomach getting upset.” Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands in front of her. “You know, I could call Mark and Eric. I’m sure they have some great soups at the bed and breakfast they wouldn’t mind running over.”

“Jessie,” Alex said, his voice soft. “Whatever you have is just fine. I happen to love store-bought soup. Of course, I’ll love it even more if you have some with me.”

She felt a blush creep up her neck. “Of course. And I’d love some as well. Blizzard will keep you company while I fix it.” She nodded at the shepherd and waited until he had climbed onto the couch and stretched out between Alex’s legs, his head resting on the detective’s stomach. “That should definitely keep you awake for now.”

Jessie moved to the kitchen, grabbing a can of chicken noodle soup from the pantry. She emptied it into a pot, the soft clink of the spoon against the can echoing in the quiet house. A few minutes later, she returned to the living room with two steaming bowls.

She handed one to Alex, watching as he took a careful sip. “So, as I said,” she began, her voice taking on a more serious tone, “I’ve been working on a profile of the killer. Trying to piece together what kind of person we’re dealing with. And I think the way Travis Benton was tied up, and now you... It tells us more than we realize. This is where we start.”

Alex looked at her, his eyes more alert now. “Go on,” he encouraged, taking another sip of soup.

Jessie leaned forward, her bowl resting in her lap. “Unless Doctor Lindquist tells us differently, we are operating under the assumption that Travis Benton died from strangulation.”

Alex nodded. “He was secured to the chair in a way that made escaping impossible and eventually died from his struggles.”

Jessie pointed a finger at the detective. “Exactly. He died. But in a way that could almost be viewed as… he brought about his own death.”

Alex frowned, his spoon paused inches from his mouth. “Are you saying it was some kind of weird suicide?”

“Not to our eyes. Not in the way that we would see that.”

Alex frowned taking another sip. “But to the killer? Maybe he saw it that way.”

Jessie was nodding. “Look at this.” She stood up, leaving her b owl on the coffee table as she made her way to the kitchen table. She returned with a manilla folder. “I was given a copy of the crime scene photos. I wanted to have them before going over to Everly’s house tomorrow, just to familiarize myself with the scene in case anything at the break-in might repeat.” She opened the folder and began leafing through photos, pausing when she found the one she wanted and handed it to Alex. “What do you see?”

The detective stared, his eyes narrowing. “A close-up picture of Travis’s feet bound to the chair legs. Same weird, cross stitch pattern of rope…am I missing something?”

Jessie moved over closer and placed her finger on the picture. “Here. Not the feet but the foot of the chair leg. It’s one from the dining room table. There are tiny felt pads on the bottom of them to keep them from scratching the floor. That flooring is American Black Walnut. Very expensive but also very soft and far more susceptible to dents and scratches.”

Alex frowned. “Okay. We know they didn’t have a dog, so they went weren’t worried about tearing up the floor.”

Jessie was nodding. “Yes. Hence the protective covering on the feet of the chair. But look at this.” She placed her finger on another area of the photograph, just in front of where Travis Benton’s chair was.

Alex looked at it and then looked up at Jessie. “A deep scratch in the wood.”

“Yes. It’s barely in frame, probably luck that the crime scene tech’s camera caught it.” She stood up and moved back to her chair. “I’m betting that gouge in the wood is from a second chair. One that was dragged over and placed in front of Benton.”

Alex stared at her, unblinking. “The killer wanted to watch him die. Up close and personal.”

“So, either he dragged a chair from somewhere else in the house…or he happened to grab one of the chairs that the felt footing had come loose from. We need to have the crime techs find that chair and go over it with a fine-tooth comb. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some trace evidence on it.”

Alex sighed, shaking his head. “Damnit. Our guys are good, but how could they have missed this. How could I have missed it?”

Jessie gave him an awkward smile. “They are good. You are good. But everyone is new to this. You learn by experience.”

“Still, this seems like a rookie mistake.”

Jessie’s tone softened. “It wasn’t a mistake. This is still the early stages of an active investigation. These are the things that present themselves as you go along. A mistake would be ignoring it moving forward.” She sat back, taking in a spoonful of soup before continuing. “Now, let’s go over what all of this tells us about our killer.”

Alex finished off his soup and placed the bowl on the coffee table before leaning forward, focusing on Jessie’s every word.

She drew in a deep breath. “I think you are looking for someone in their late thirties to early fifties. Male, with a tall, athletic build. Judging from the surveillance footage we saw, I’d estimate around six feet two inches, maybe a little more. He’s strong. Travis Benton was in fairly good shape. Subduing him would not have been easy. As for physical characteristics, he’s going to have muscular forearms and callused, possibly scarred hands. The way Travis was bound tells me this was not the first time our killer has done this. Working with rope to the degree he does is bound to leave marks over time. He’s also going to be well groomed with a meticulously maintained appearance.”

Alex held up a hand. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“Because of the nature of the crime. We saw him walking calmly across the grounds in the footage. He’s confident. He isn’t worried about being caught, which suggests arrogance. The detail of the way the ropes were knotted suggest discipline and a need for control. Traits like that are going to extend to his grooming. He isn’t going to be disheveled. I’m betting he takes pride in maintaining the way he looks.” She hesitated long enough to pour herself a glass of water and refill Alex’s glass. “He’s also going to have significant sadistic tendencies. The fact that he wanted to observe Benton’s death so intimately tells us he enjoys the slow and deliberate nature of his killings. That also points to the fact that he is emotionally detached, telling me he has a highly developed sociopathic personality.

“This behavior also suggests that he possibly has a history of abuse or neglect in his background. That could contribute to a lot of what we’re seeing. Childhood trauma can contribute to a need to assert dominance as a way to compensate for past helplessness. He may come from a profession that allows him to exert authority or influence over others—such as a managerial role, a position of authority, or work that requires careful planning and precision. Maybe an engineer, a surgeon or an architect. This man is intelligent and calculating with a desire for power and control.”

“So, not your run of the mill psychopath,” Alex interjected.

Jessie shook her head. “No. He’s definitely in control of what he’s doing. There was nothing in his handiwork that would suggest he was spiraling. And there’s something else…the fact that you’re sitting across from me.”

Alex studied her, comprehension flooding his features. “He resisted killing me.”

“Yes. Cat-and-mouse games fit perfectly into this person’s dynamic. I think what he did to you wasn’t so much a warning as a demonstration of his restraint. For now, at least.”

Alex was nodding along with her. “I would venture to say whoever this is, they are also familiar with Pine Haven as well. He knew the terrain and how to get in and out of The Glades unseen. Well, for the most part. We still don’t know what’s on the other security footage.”

Jessie frowned. “Or, maybe it wasn’t him who knew how to get around. We still don’t know who he seemed to be addressing in the footage. And that’s the one thing that blows a lot of what I’ve put together away. Someone with this killer’s tendencies is almost always a lone wolf. They get a thrill out of doing everything themself. It doesn’t fit that he would have an accomplice.” She sighed and sank back in the chair.

“But what you just threw out is more than anyone in the department could have come up with. I say we go with what you’ve given us so far. It’s coming from a place of experience, right?” He gave her a wink and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Tomorrow, you come with me to see Everly and we take at the break-in. Then, we go see Doctor Lindquist. He seemed to think he’ll have the autopsy report ready. He can give you a quick once over -” she held up her hand when he started to protest – “and when he clears you, we can start the hard part of the investigation.”

Now it was Alex who frowned. “What’s the hard part?”

“You said it yourself. Either the killer knows his way around Pine Haven, suggesting he’s a local, or the person he’s working with is. We ask around to see if anyone has seen a stranger in town lately that fits his description, and we start looking for potential matches within the community.”

Alex sighed. “Won’t be easy, what with the start of tourist season. There’s bound to be plenty of newcomers in town. Still, it’s a great idea. And we all have to start somewhere.”

Jessie smiled and stretched. “Alrighty then. What say we break out the cards and-”

A growl interrupted her. In a flash of white, Blizzard was off the couch and facing the front door, the hair along the ridge of his back stood on end.

Reacting almost as quickly, Jessie was up and at the door. She looked down at Blizzard. “Stay. Guard.”

The dog placed himself between Alex and the door as Jessie threw it open and raced out into the night.

13

Jessie stepped off the porch, eyes locking onto a shadow slipping between the trees toward the lake. Her pulse spiked, adrenaline kicking in. Her legs pumped as she headed towards the lake, and the shadowy figure that waited. The intruder turned, glancing her way, then broke into a run.

“Hey!” she shouted, breaking into a sprint. “Stop!”

The figure moved like a ghost, fast and smooth. Jessie pushed harder, her boots pounding against the earth, the crunch of pine needles echoing in the still night. She kept her breath steady. The trail curved along the lake, moonlight bouncing off the water. The figure was just a dark blur ahead, barely visible.

Jessie’s mind raced. Couldn’t hurt to try… “Pine Haven PD!” Jessie yelled. “Stop or I’ll⁠—”

Her boot caught on a root. She stumbled, cursing, and regained her stride. The figure kept moving, unfazed. Every instinct she had told her this was not some kid that had been following her. The size, the effortless way they moved.

No. That was not a teenager ahead of her.

She gritted her teeth, pushing herself harder. The figure made an abrupt cut to his left, leaving the trail and entering the thickets. Jessie hesitated, slowing a bit as she followed. The dense, overhead canopy cut off what little light there was, and she was plunged into darkness. She stood still listening for any sound. All she could make out was her own heavy breathing and the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

Whoever she was chasing was gone.

She scanned the darkness around her, trying to make out any movement in the shadows. Everything was still and she reluctantly backtracked to the hiking trail and the stillness of the lake. Breathing hard, she headed back until she found the soft earth that led to the lake’s edge. She bent over staring carefully as she walked along until she found what she wanted.

A partial print in the sandy ground. She breathed a silent curse as she realized she didn’t have her phone. Studying the track, she noted the lug pattern – the raised sections that provide traction on a variety of terrains – and noticed they were shallow and close together. They weren’t military issue. Jessie placed her foot next tom the partial and guesstimated the size to be a man’s twelve.

Making her way to the nearest shrub, she broke off a branch and returned, sticking it in the earth to mark the location of the print.

She placed her hands on her hips, still trying to catch her breath. Why had the figure just been standing there like that? Almost daring her to give chase. A thought, dark and gripping, ran through her mind.

Alex.

A new surge of adrenaline hit her as she sprinted for the house. She made it to the steps and stopped, her heart skipping a beat as she stared down, transfixed.

The stairs disappeared beneath her stride as she gained the landing on the porch and burst through the front door. “Alex!”

Commotion coming from the living room greeted her as Blizzard ran out, large tail wagging furiously in excitement.

“What is it? Jessie, I’m in here.”

She made her way into the living room, her hands trembling from the surge of relief that flooded her body. Alex was still on the couch, sitting bolt upright, his face a mask of concern for his friend.

“You’re… you’re okay,” she breathed. She turned to the large shepherd at her side. “Patrol.”

Immediately, Blizzard headed for the back sliding door, sniffing the base, before heading up the stairs and doing the same at all of the windows. He padded back down the stairs and out the front door. Jessie could hear him circling the porch and the immediate area around the house.

Jessie turned to Alex before plopping down in the chair. “There was someone out there. Standing down by the lake staring up at us. I chased him, but he got away. How was Blizzard while I was out?”

“Stayed right at my side the whole time. Growled a couple of times and barked once,” Alex answered. “Why?”

“Because now we know that there are two of them.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. “Are you sure?”

Jessie reached into her pocket and withdrew a strip of red rope. She tossed it over to Alex. “Unless our killer can be in two places at once, he lured me away from the house and his accomplice left this stretched across the steps.”

Alex turned the rope over in his hands. “It certainly looks like the same one that I woke up with.”

“I’m betting analysis will tell us the same thing,” Jessie said.

Blizzard trotted back into the room and rested his head on Jessie’s lap. She stood and walked over to the front door, closing it.

“I guess that means whoever left the rope isn’t still out there?” Alex asked.

Jessie nodded. “Well, so much for the threat of accidentally falling asleep tonight. We’ll get someone over from the crime scene at first light. I marked an area where they might be able to get a partial print.” Her tone didn’t sound as hopeful as she would have liked.

“Well, at least we know one thing for certain,” Alex said. “You were right. This is turning into a game of cat-and-mouse.”

Jessie settled back into her chair as Blizzard settled into a heap at her feet. “Indeed. Well, all I can say to that is, game on.”

14

Jessie and Alex stood in line at Angela’s Bakery, surrounded by the scent of freshly baked bread, cinnamon rolls, and coffee. Jessie kept a close eye on Alex as they waited, her concern thinly veiled beneath her usual tough exterior. Jessie nudged Alex gently. “Go grab our usual seat in front of the picture window. I’ll bring you some breakfast.”

Alex hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. He settled into the seat, wincing slightly as he adjusted his weight. Jessie watched him closely, watching for any tell-tale signs that his pain might be greater than he was letting on.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked, placing a bowl of oatmeal in front of him as she took the seat opposite his.

Alex gave her a tired smile. “I’m fine, Jessie. I’m not going to let a bump on the head keep me down. Besides, you know I can’t turn down a good...bowl of mush. One of those chocolate croissants would be a better fit for me this morning.” He gestured at the display counter, a glint of humor in his eyes. “And a big old cup of black coffee would do wonders.”

Jessie shot him a look, half-amused, half-annoyed. “No caffeine,” she chided. “Not until Dr. Lindquist says it’s okay. We can’t risk anything with that head of yours.” She shifted in her seat, the tension never fully leaving her shoulders.

“Fine, fine,” Alex said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stick to the orange juice. But you’re going to owe me for this—you know how much I love my coffee.”

“I’ll owe you when you’re cleared for it,” Jessie replied, her lips twitching into a slight smile. She waved Angela over, who approached the booth with her usual warm smile and a notepad in hand.

“Morning, Jessie. Morning, Alex. You two look like you’ve been through the wringer,” Angela said, her eyes flicking over Alex’s bruises with concern. “And oatmeal? Really, Alex? Since when did you turn into an old man? You used to be all about the croissants and cinnamon rolls.”

Alex laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, doctor’s orders, Angela. Looks like I’m on a strict diet of bland and boring until further notice.”

Angela shook her head, smiling. “Alright, alright, I guess I won’t judge. What can I get for you today?” Angela said, her eyes flicking over Alex’s bruises with concern.

“Hey, Angela,” Jessie said, her tone casual but focused. “We’ll have an orange juice and a plain, toasted bagel for him. I’ll have a black coffee, please.” She saw the look Alex shot her way. “What? I’m not the one that got caught slacking on the job.” She gave him a quick wink as he grimaced.

Angela laughed, looking from one to the other as she scribbled down the order. “Coming right up.”

Jessie leaned in slightly as Angela turned to leave. “Actually, Angela, one more thing.” Angela paused, glancing back at Jessie. “Have you seen anyone around lately that seems out of place? Someone from out of town, maybe acting a bit strange?”

Angela furrowed her brow, tapping the end of her pen against her notepad. “Out of place? Jessie, you know it’s the start of tourist season, and sometimes there are more strangers here than regulars. You’ll need to be a bit more descriptive.”

Jessie nodded, understanding. “I’m looking for a man. Tall, over six feet, trying not to stand out, but there was something about him—maybe his hands. Rough, calloused, like he worked with them a lot. And he’d be pretty well groomed, neatly trimmed.”

Angela thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, can’t say I remember anyone like that. But, you know, that description sounds a lot like Julia’s new boyfriend.” She looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen. “Hold on, let me call her over.”

Angela turned and waved towards the back. “Julia! Come here for a second.”

A moment later, a young woman in her early twenties with her hair pulled back in a ponytail emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Yeah, Angela?”

Angela gestured towards Jessie and Alex. “These folks have some questions. You know that new guy you’re seeing? Jessie here thinks he sounds like someone they might be looking for.”

Julia looked nervously at Jessie, her eyes darting back to Angela.

“Oh, go on, girl. You’re not going to get in trouble for anything. Tell Jessie what you were saying about his hands being so rough.” Still the girl looked at them sheepishly. Angela rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to go into gory detail, just tell her about your new beau.”

Finally, Julia took in a breath. Her lips trembled when she went to speak. “Well, I was working my morning shift about a month ago when this guy I’d never seen before came in. He was tall and not too hard on the eyes. He sat in the corner of there,” she nodded at a small table for one near the back of the cafe area. “I served him and he seemed real nice. A gentleman. Complimented the way having my hair pulled up in a ponytail highlighted my cheeks. We chatted, and I brought him his order. He ate, then left. Left me a nice tip too.”

Jessie interrupted her. “What did he eat? Do you remember?”

Julia nodded quickly. “Oh, yes ma’am. I remember cause he had the same thing for the next four mornings. Two slices of plain white bread, medium toasted, with one pat of butter on each and a coffee with extra cream and sugar.”

Jessie frowned. “And he never deviated from that order.”

“Not once. And I could tell he always inspected it to make sure it was toasted exactly right each time. He didn’t know I watched but he was peculiar about things.”

“What kind of things?” Alex asked.

Julia thought for a moment. “Well, he always made sure the cutlery was in the same place on the napkin that was laid out before he ate. And I could see his lips moving when he stirred his coffee. I think he was counting how many times before he drank it.”

“Interesting,” said Jessie. She glanced over at Alex and could see he had his notebook out, scribbling away. “And...?”

Julia hesitated, her eyes glances upward as she started to wring her hands together. “Well, I mean...he was real nice. And said he was only here for the summer, so I guess I...I just thought...”

Jessie reached out and placed a hand on the young woman’s. “Julia, it’s okay. No one is judging anything you tell us. What you’re telling us could be very important for a case we are working on.”

Julia locked eyes with Jessie and nodded. “He asked me out and I said yes. We spent a couple evenings going to dinner and that kind of thing before I worked up the courage to ask him back to my place. He said yes, and well... you can imagine how things went from there. And it was all so perfect, so magical with him. The only thing that I felt was off was...and I don’t know how to put it...his hands. They just didn’t match the rest of him.”

Alex stopped writing and looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like I said, he was so well put together. And he always smelled nice. Not with cologne or anything - just clean soap - and his skin was nice. All except his hands. They were really tough.”

Jessie leaned forward. “Julia, what is this man’s name?”

“Larry. Larry Burns.”

“And do you know where Larry Burns lives?” Jessie continued.

Again, Julia gave her a sheepish look. “No. He said he stayed on one of the boats that he was fixing up for some local guy in order to get it ready for the season. That’s what he does; he’s a boat mechanic. He said the boat was too small for two of us and the owner had forbid guests on his boat. So, we always went to my place.”

Jessie and Alex exchanged anxious glances. “That’s great Julia. You’re being a huge help,” Alex said. “So, you haven’t been to this boat he stays on, but do you know where it is? Where he is?”

Her face pinched up in thought. “No. but I know where he’ll be at lunchtime. He always talks about how great the fish and chips are at that motorcycle club.”

Jessie’s spine stiffened. “You mean the Gray Eagle?”

Julia nodded. “Yeah, that’s the place. I don’t understand why he likes that bar. It gives off bad vibes if you ask me.” She hesitated a bit, measuring her next words carefully. “Is...is Larry in some kind of trouble? Is there something I should know?”

Alex gave her a reassuring smile. “No one is in any trouble. Jessie and I just have some questions for your friend, that’s all.”

Julia nodded and thumbed back towards the line forming at the cash register. “Okay, well, I gotta get back to the line.”

“Thank you for your time, Julia,” Jessie called after her before turning to Angela. And thank you. We really didn’t mean to disrupt your morning rush.”

Angela waved her off. “Don’t even mention it.” Her brows knitted together in worry. “Hey, I know you’re doing your job, and you really don’t need me to tell you. But whatever you’re looking into, be careful out there. Especially if it leads to that biker bar.” She gave them a stern nod and headed back towards the kitchen.

Alex returned his notebook to his pocket. “So, what do you think? Could this be our man?”

Jessie sighed, deep in thought. “No idea. He fits the profile however. And if he’s a boat mechanic, he probably works a lot with rope. That would explain his rough hands.”

“He’d also know quite a bit about different types of knots.”

Jessie’s eyes narrowed. “Guess we’ll find out.” She glanced at her watch. “Come on. We should head over to Everly’s place. The sooner we do that, the quicker we can get out to the Gray Eagle and have a word with this Larry Burns.”

Alex’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure John Bartley is looking forward to seeing you again.”

Jessie’s upper lip curled in disgust at the mention of the motorcycle club’s owner. “Keep that up and I’ll make sure Lindquist puts you on an oatmeal diet for a week.”

Alex laughed as they headed out. Jessie rolled her eyes as she followed behind him. Truth was, John Bartley wasn’t her favorite person. But she also knew that he had become a trusted source of information. The more involved she became in Pine Haven, the more aware she was of just how much information existed in the gray areas of town.

And gray areas were one place that John Bartley seemed to thrive.

15

Jessie and Alex stood in the grand foyer of Everly Wilson’s lakeside mansion, the echo of their footsteps bouncing off the high ceilings. The excessive luxury—marble floors, ornate chandeliers, and intricate detailing—felt almost suffocating. Alex’s eyes flicked over the extravagant decor, and he raised an eyebrow in Jessie’s direction, sharing an unspoken thought. All this opulence, and yet, they were still vulnerable.

“This way,” Everly said, her voice soft but steady. She led them into a spacious living room overlooking the lake. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the serene view, but Jessie noticed the drawn curtains and the subtle twitch in Everly’s hand as she gestured for them to sit.

“Thank you for seeing us, Mrs. Wilson,” Jessie said, her voice carrying a reassuring tone. She moved carefully, her eyes taking in every detail of the room. The Wilson home was immaculate, almost too perfect, as if any sign of disorder had been meticulously erased.

Everly offered a strained smile as she sat down, her posture stiff. “It’s no trouble. I just… I want to understand what’s happening here. As I said, my husband did not want the police involved.” Her eyes landed sharply on Alex.

Jessie noticed Everly’s eyes on Alex, the concern evident. She leaned in slightly, her voice calm but firm. “I understand why you might be worried about Alex being here, Mrs. Wilson. After what happened at the Benton house, I need his eyes on this case as well. We need to make sure there are no potential links between the two incidents.”

Everly’s brows furrowed, her expression shifting to one of shock and concern. “You mean, this could be related? And what exactly did happen at the Benton’s?”

Jessie knew the woman had already heard the details. By this time, most of the county had head about Travis Benton’s murder. “I’m not saying they are connected. But the fact that your break in and Mr. Benton’s murder happened only a few house apart...well, you can imagine the importance of being thorough. For everyone involved. And I want to reassure you, everything we discuss here is completely confidential. Neither you nor your family will appear in any reports. We’re just here to get to the bottom of this and keep you safe.”

Alex leaned forward, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “You mentioned the break-in happened about a week ago? Could you walk us through what you noticed? Anything out of place, anything missing? I know you’ve told this tom Jessie, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

Everly glanced towards the window, her fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her sleeve. “There isn’t much to tell. Last week, we arrived to open the house on Saturday. Everything was fine. Since it was our first night, we went out to dinner across the lake. When we returned, the living area had been ransacked. My husband insisted it was just some teenagers messing around, but… I don’t know.”

Alex nodded, jotting down notes. “Did they take anything?”

Everly hesitated, her eyes flicking to the hallway where her children were. “Not really. Nothing of value, at least. A few things were moved—some papers, a lamp—but nothing seemed stolen.” She broke her attention from Alex and turned toward Jessie. “Look, do we need to be worried here? Maybe we should just skip this summer until whoever did this is caught...”

“All I can say is I’m sure the Pine Haven police are doing everything in their power to bring whoever did this to justice. While I certainly can’t tell you what to do regarding you and your families safety, I can say that until everything is solved, keep your doors locked and your security system armed. Speaking of...do you or your husband have ... protection in the house?”

Everly nodded. “Yes. My husband has a license and keeps a firearm in the safe in the bedroom.”

Jessie nodded. “Good. And what about the bedroom? Any sign the intruder was there?”

“No,” Everly replied. “I don’t think they were anywhere other than this floor.”

Jessie exchanged a glance with Alex. They both had the same thoughts. This wasn’t a typical burglary. Whoever had broken in wasn’t after valuables.

“Everly,” Jessie began, her tone more hesitant than usual. “I have not spoken to Alex about ... your suspicions. And I won’t, not without your permission. But if there is any hint of a connection between these two crimes -”

Everly let out a deep sigh and moved to look out the windows towards the lake. “My husband is having an affair, and I believe his mistress broke into the house in order to scare me. Or...I don’t know what. Mess with my mind. Tad of course refuses to admit it, but I can’t shake the feeling he’s hiding something.”

Alex glanced at Jessie and carefully closed his notebook, sliding it in his pocket. “I’m sorry you’re going through that, ma’am. It won’t leave this room.”

“Mrs. Wilson - er, Everly,” Jessie said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone, “you have two children, right? Would it be possible for us to speak with them? Just to see if they noticed anything unusual.”

Everly’s eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head. “I’d prefer not to involve them. They’re young, and this whole thing has already made them anxious. I don’t want them to be any more frightened than they already are.”

Jessie nodded, understanding but not backing down. “I get that. But sometimes children notice things that we don’t. Even small details could help us.” She didn’t want to mention her run-in with Tad junior, or the fact that both children knew a lot more than she had given them credit for.

Everly bit her lip, then sighed. “I’ll think about it. Just… please be gentle with them if it comes to that.”

“Of course,” Alex said softly. “We only want to help.”

Jessie shifted her focus back to Everly. “Alright. Can you show us where the break-in happened?”

Everly’s brows furrowed. She raised a hand and waved it around the room. “This was the main area that seemed to be the object of the intruder’s ire.”

Jessie arched a single eyebrow, glancing around the immaculate space. “This? And nowhere else?” The room looked like it was hardly lived in, let alone had recently been ransacked.

Everly shrugged. “Like I said, a few lamps were broken - they’ve been replaced - some books thrown about and furniture overturned.”

Alex stood up and walked around the space and Jessie could tell he was on the same page as she. He pointed to the large windows. “There’s no deck or outside entrance to this room. How do you think they got in?”

Everly motioned for them to follow. She led them from the great room to the attached kitchen. It was a massive space, well-appointed with chef’s appliances and two islands that wouldn’t fit in most people’s living rooms. Along one wall were sliding doors that could be retracted into the wall to create a true indoor-outdoor living area.

“This is the only place they could have gotten in,” Everly said, pointing to the slider that led to the expansive deck overlooking the water.

Alex stepped through the door and onto the deck. He looked around, paying special attention to the sides of the home. “And there was nothing on these?” He pointed to the security cameras attached to the siding that were aimed at the sliding doors.

Everly shook her head. “No, there was nothing on the camera. And before you ask, the alarm system was not triggered either.”

“Can you provide me a list of the people that have the security code?” Jessie asked.

Everly thought for a second. “That’s easy enough. Me, Tad and the children. The servants have a different code, so we always know when they come and go from the house, but again, nothing was entered.”

Jessie flinched at the term “servants” but didn’t say anything. “I see. Alex, any sign the lock was tampered with?”

The detective had been studying the door lock and shook his head. “None.”

“So, no signs of forced entry and nothing stolen,” Jessie noted. “Alex, why don’t you take a closer look at the grounds around the house and leading up from the lake. See if anything stands out.” She turned to face Everly. “I need to at least see upstairs. I’ll be quick.”

Everly hesitated, checking the time on her watch. “Fine.”

They parted company, Alex remaining outside while Jessie followed Everly up the gently curving staircase to the second floor. From the stairs, they stepped onto a large landing with a balcony that overlooked the great room.

“The children are to either side of the loft. And as I said, they know nothing,” Everly stated.

Jessie considered her next words carefully. “In my line of work I find that the adults are usually surprised at just how much the children know.”

They were interrupted by movement and hushed whispers from their left as Tad and his sister Gianna walked from one of the rooms and onto the catwalk that connected them to the loft. Behind them trailed a third teenager. A girl that looked familiar to Jessie.

Everly appeared startled at their approach. “Oh, Ashley, I didn’t know you were here.”

The teenager smiled at Everly but then froze as her eyes landed on Jessie. “I know you. You were at...at the house when my father was found.”

Jessie nodded grimly. “I was. And you’re Ashley, right? I am so very sorry for your loss.”

Ashley turned to her friends. “She is a cop.”

Jessie studied their faces, noting the hard, fixed demeanor that Tad maintained. “No, I’m not a cop. But I do work closely with the police on certain cases.”

“What are you doing here?” Tad asked. His voice was quiet and calm, but his eyes were pleading.

“Tad. Don’t be rude,” Everly said. “She’s here because I have...questions for her. Why didn’t either of you tell me that you had a guest over.” her eyes drifted to her daughter. “Not that it’s a problem, or course.”

Tad started to speak, but Gianna stepped forward, cutting off her brother. “Ashley just needed someplace to hang while her mother is dealing with...everything that happened at their house. I told her it was okay to hang here for a couple of days.” She looked questioningly at her mother. “It is okay, isn’t it.”

Everly gave the girl a sympathetic look. “Of course it is. She can stay as long as she needs to.” She turned to Jessie. “You can see the child is shaken after what happened. Now might not be the best time for us to...continue.”

Jessie gave the woman an understanding nod. “Of course. I’ll just go grab Alex and we will be out of your hair.” She headed back down the stairs, Everly close on her heels.

“Thank you,” Everly said, as they reached the lower level of the house. “I didn’t realize Ashley was here and I would rather not talk about the break in around her. She’s already been through so much.”

Jessie couldn’t disagree with the statement. The girl had been through something traumatizing and had sought out temporary refuge. The last thing she needed was to feel unsafe among her friends. “Not a problem. but please, go over everything again. Make sure nothing was taken...no matter how small. Then, I want you to send me a list of your husbands contacts; business, personal, everyone you can think of. I’ll be in touch when I have questions.”

Everly frowned. “You mean if you have questions.”

Jessie stared at the woman. “No. There are always questions, Everly. I just need to figure out the right ones to ask.” As she turned to find Alex, she saw a silhouette looking down on her from above. She glanced upward in time to see Ashley and Tad junior duck away. “Thank you for your time, Everly. I’ll be in touch.”

“Jessie?” Everly said, following her to the sliding doors that would lead to the deck. “If there is something we need to know...if my family is in danger, you’ll let me know?”

Jessie smiled and placed a reassuring hand over the woman’s just as Alex approached. “You’ll be the first to know.”

Everly let out a deep sigh of thanks and close the door.

“What did you find out?” Alex asked.

“That the kids are the one I need to be talking to. But it looks like I’m going to have to find another way to get to them. And you?”

The detective shook his head. “There are zero signs of breaking and entering. No signs of an intruder coming up from the trails near the lake. It’s like it never happened.” His phone dinged and he pulled it from his pocket looking at the screen.

Jessie sighed. “Okay, well, let’s go see Dr. Lindquist. Maybe going over the results of Travis Benton’s autopsy will tell us something. Or at least give us a place to start looking for...anything.”

Alex looked up at her, his eyes wide. “Looks like we’ll be seeing the doc alright. Just not at his office. Another body just got called in.”

Jessie felt a chill creep up her spine. “Where?”

Alex gave her an intense look that she didn’t like. “The Gray Eagle. John Bartley just called it in.”

16

Jessie and Alex arrived at The Gray Eagle, a sprawling biker bar on the edge of Pine Haven. The building was a relic of another era—wooden planks stained dark from years of weather, a faded sign above the entrance, and a gravel parking lot filled with motorcycles. The bikes were polished to a shine, gleaming under the early morning sun—a mix of chrome and black paint that hinted at the kind of people who frequented the establishment. Bikers milled around in the lot, kept out of the bar by the officers stationed near the entrance.

Jessie took a deep breath as they approached the door, her eyes scanning the scene. A couple of bikers lounged by the entrance, their gazes tracking the detectives as they approached. One of them gave a slight nod, not exactly welcoming, but acknowledging their presence. Jessie gave a curt nod back, her focus already shifting to the task at hand, trying to ignore the nervous energy that had settled in her stomach.

She hated to admit how much seeing John Bartley made her uneasy. She pushed that to the back of her mind. It was something she’d unpack another day.

Inside, The Gray Eagle was dimly lit. Somehow, despite the fact that they weren’t even open, a haze of smoke hung in the air. The place smelled like a mixture of stale beer, sweat, and the distinct tang of motor oil. Behind the bar, a shorter man, with a paunch that strained his sleeveless tank top, sat on a bar. His face was ashen, and he was shaking his head to whatever the officer who was questioning him had asked.

At the far end of the lacquered bar-top, John Bartley stood, arms crossed, his face expressionless as he locked eyes with Jessie and then Alex.

Alex nodded when Jessie gave him a questioning look. “Go ahead. I just want to hear the bartenders statement. You question John.”

Jessie clenched her jaw and made her way past the bar to where John was standing. He nodded sternly to her as she approached.

“John,” Jessie said. “What’s going on?”

He thumbed over his shoulder at the large stainless-steel door behind him. “Marlon came in at his usual time this morning to open up. Went into the beer fridge to check supplies and found it.”

Jessie looked over the man’s shoulder at the door that was cracked open. She glanced back at Alex. “Is that Marlon? Is he your new Bartender?”

John nodded squinting his eyes. “Been hard finding someone I could trust after that whole mess with Josie, but I think this guy’s a keeper. Well, at least until he got an eyeful of that.” He nodded his head back towards the door.

“Doctor Lindquist already in there?” Jessie asked.

John nodded. “Yeah, he’s in there. I was surprised he beat the two of you here.”

Jessie shifted her eyes away from him “We were working on something down at the lake.” She turned to head for the metal door before spinning back around. “When did you get here?”

John looked confused. “What?”

“You said that Marlon found the body when he opened. Did you open with him? Did he call you first?”

John stared, his eyes not leaving hers. “If you’re asking how much time passed between the discovery of the body and the call to the cops, then I’d say it was about thirty minutes. I was up at my cabin when I got the call. Drove down, took a look, then made the call.”

“Why didn’t your employee immediately call the police?” Jessie asked.

John pursed his lips together before offering her a strained smile. “He’s new, Jessie. Still learning the ropes. I’m the boss so he reached out to me first.”

“And waited the half an hour for you to arrive and inspect the scene? That wouldn’t be because you had anything that had to be removed from onsite before law enforcement arrived, would it?”

John narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying, Ms. Night?”

Jessie swallowed hard, then shook her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry. It’s...been a stressful couple of days. Hey, do you happen to know who it is in there?”

“No. Never seen the guy before.”

Jessie nodded and turned; heading form the refrigerator door. She tugged it open and stepped inside just as a flash went off. She winced at the pop of light, her vision momentarily overwhelmed by the sudden brightness. She blinked rapidly, her eyes struggling to adjust.

Doctor Lindquist was there, camera in hand, capturing another image as she finally managed to focus on the scene before her.

“Sorry,” he said, looking up at her as she shielded her eyes. “Wasn’t expecting you to walk in just then.”

Jessie stepped closer. The body was in a sitting position in the middle of the refrigerator, on its knees, head tilted back, face towards the ceiling and their back to the door. Jessie tried to swallow the knot that formed in her throat. Whoever they were, they looked like they were meditating. “Not problem. You decided not to wait for the crime techs to take the pics?”

“Oh, they’ll still take whatever they need. But they’re new…and slow. I need to try and match some of these ligature marks to Travis Benton’s body.”

Jessie took a deep breath and walked around to the front of the body. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Dr. Lindquist frowned, studying her face. “Jessie, what is it? Do you know this person?”

Her hand trembled as she removed it. She gave the doctor a nod. “His name is James Poole. He’s the guard at the gatehouse entrance to The Glades.”

She took a step back as she took in the sight, her heel striking a stack of boxes containing various brands of beers. The man was naked, his hands in his lap. Green rope bound his wrists, trailing off in separate directions to disappear under his knees. A braided section of rope made its way up his torso to wrap around his throat. From there, another piece snaked upward to his mouth, acting like a gag. From there, it trailed down his back to its resting place, circling his left foot. “What in the hell?” Jessie whispered.

The medical examiner moved to stand next to her, his eyes locked on the gruesome figure. He turned to place the camera on the stack of boxes behind them, then walked carefully over to the body. He pointed to the portion of the rope wrapped around the man’s neck. “I won’t know until I get him on the table, but I can say with a great deal of certainty that these ligature marks -” he shifted the rope just a bit with the tip of a gloved finger – “are going to be a match for the ones on Mr. Benton’s neck.”

Jessie stepped closer. “Same rope, different color. You’re sure?”

He gave her a guarded look. “Nothing is certain until I can do a better examination. But…yes.”

Jessie knew what it meant for the examiner to say that. Lindquist was notoriously thorough and loathed making statements regarding a victim’s death until he had performed a thorough autopsy. The reason he now broke from that pattern was obvious, even though Jessie knew he would not come right out and say it.

“So, a serial killer,” Alex said, stepping into the fridge. He was followed closely by John Bartley. Alex turned swiftly to the bar owner. “You can’t be in here. Official business.”

John gave the deputy a steely look. “My bar. My fridge the guy was found in. If you want me to be a cooperative witness, then I need to know what’s going on here.”

Alex opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Jessie. “Alex, let him in. The more help he willingly provides the quicker we find the sick bastard doing this.”

Alex’s lip quivered but he resigned his argument with a sharp exhalation. “Fine. Hopefully he can provide more information than his employee could.”

“Marlon’s new. He only told you what he could,” John said.

“Told us what he could…or what you told him to?” Alex replied. “Do we have a time of death?” He turned to the coroner.

Dr. Lindquist nodded. “I’d guess he’s been dead for about six hours at this point. Maybe eight at the outset. While it’s not freezing in here, the cold can throw that off a bit.”

“Well, I could have told you that,” John said. “I closed up last night around two-thirty. I can guarantee you, there wasn’t a dead body in the beer fridge when I left.”

Alex gave him an annoyed look before checking his watch and making scribbling in his notebook. “And do you have an alibi for the rest of the evening?”

John narrowed his eyes. “No. Not at all. Do I need one?”

Jessie cleared her throat. “Do you have cameras inside the bar?”

“No. Bad for business,” John replied.

“I know you have a security system,” Alex said. “Was it tripped or activated at any point during the night?”

Again, John replied in the negative. “It’s a basic system. Tied to my home monitoring system. But I didn’t get any alerts.”

Jessie turned to face the man. “Does it only trigger if the alarm is tripped? Would it register if someone put the correct code in?”

John scratched his head. “I don’t believe it would.”

Jessie and Alex exchanged worried looks. “I’ll need a list of everyone that has the code,” Alex said.

John shrugged. “No problem, but it will be a pretty short list. No way one of my staff would do this.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say the same thing about Josie at one point.”

A red flush muddied John’s face and Jessie could see his hands tighten into fists. “We’ll have the crime scene techs sweep the whole bar and this fridge, John. They’ll collect any evidence that might help us figure out how someone got in here.” She turned to the medical examiner. “Can you tell if he was killed here?”

Lindquist let out. sharp breath. “Now that I can’t say for sure. At least not yet.”

Jessie walked around the body, studying it from all angles. She stopped when she was back in front of the dead man. Something on the floor caught her attention and she dropped down to examine it.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

She pointed to scratch marks in the frosted flooring. Pursing her lips, she left the fridge followed by Alex and John. After circling the furniture, she found a chair that was sitting against the bar. “Why is this chair not up like the rest?” she asked.

John studied the room. All the table chairs were turned upside down, hanging from the tables by their seats. “It should be up. They were all up last night so the bar-back could mop the floors.”

Jessie studied the legs of the chairs. This particular one was metallic with jagged feet. “The killer had this in the fridge. He sat it in front of Mr. Poole just like with Travis Benton.” her voice grew fainter. “He was watching his struggle. Watched him die up close.” She nodded to Alex. “Be sure the CSI techs tag this chair and match it to any drag marks in the fridge.”

“Got it,” Alex said. He motioned for the members of the forensic team, letting them know it was okay to enter the room. He spoke briefly to the team before heading towards the front of the bar with Jessie and John.

“Well, one thing’s for sure, our killer has not left the area,” Jessie said. She glanced over at Alex, his face was emotionless as he stared straight ahead. “Hey, we’re going to get this guy.”

He looked at her, blinking rapidly and drawing in a deep breath. “I know. We will. I have no doubts about that. I just have this nagging question. Why me? Why kill that poor old man and leave me alive?”

John looked over at him, shocked. “You’ve had a run in with whoever did that?”

Before Alex could answer, Jessie tapped him on the arm and nodded in the direction of the crowd that had gathered outside the large doors leading into the bar. There was a woman looking nervously through the opening. “Isn’t that…?”

“Julia. From the bakery,” Alex replied.

The waitress saw them staring at her and quickly leaned over, her eyes wide, and whispered into the ear of a man standing next to her. He was tall and well groomed. When he saw Jessie and Alex staring at them, he turned and bolted away from the crowd.

“Hey! Stay where you are!” Jessie’s voice rang out through the bar as she sprinted for the door.

17

Alex started after her, but the sudden rush of adrenaline and movement made him stagger as he raised a hand to his head.

Jessie half turned in her pursuit to call out to him. “Stay there, Alex! Stay with Julia.”

She turned back, her eyes locked on the man that now ran through the parking lot. Her boots crunched loudly in the gravel as she tried to close the distance. Ahead of her, the man looked back at his pursuer. The parking lot had started to fill up with motorcycles of all kinds and he desperately grabbed at the handles of one and threw it to the ground as he passed in an attempt to slow Jessie.

The obstacles slowed her a bit, forcing her to sidestep them or clamor over them just enough that it allowed the man to increase the distance between them. She knew that in another few seconds he would exit the parking lot and make for the wooded area across the road from the Gray Eagle.

If he reached them, with the lead he had, she’d lose him.

The figure was steps away from making an escape when the roar of a high-powered engine cut through the parking lot. Tires spewed rocks as a black and gray, custom Harley Davidson Nightster blasted into view. It was aimed for the now startled man and swerved at the last minute, spinning in direction in a hard turn that slammed the back tire of the bike sideways into the figure, flinging him across the gravel.

His body rolled a couple of times before coming to a stop face down. The big Harley eased to a stop next to him just as Jessie reached them. The rider reached up and removed his helmet, catching Jessie’s eye.

“John,” she said, exasperated. “You could have just killed our suspect.”

The bar owner gave her a large grin. “Or I could have just prevented him from escaping. You’re welcome by the way.”

Jessie rolled her eyes and dropped to one knee next to the fallen man. Gently, she rolled him onto his back and placed two fingers on his neck. A sigh of relief escaped her as he started to groan, his arms moving slowly as he tried to orient himself.

“Easy there,” Jessie said, helping him to a sitting position. She rubbed his shoulders as his wits slowly came back to him. “I take you must be Larry.”

The man looked up at her, bewilderment flashing through his green eyes. “Who are you? Do I know you?” He winced, reaching for his forehead.

“I’m Jessie Night. The person you were running from.”

His eyes seemed to come more into focus as he stared at her. Then he looked over at John Bartley straddling the motorcycle he had just collided with. “You. You just tried to kill me.”

John gave him a devilish smile. “Nah, that was just a love tap.”

The man grimaced. “I’m going to sue you.”

John shrugged. “Go ahead. And maybe I’ll tell the owners of the bikes you dumped back there who you are and where to find you.” The man’s mouth dropped open, and John winked at him. “Besides. You’re better off with what I did than you would be if Jessie had caught up to you.”

Jessie ignored the off-mark compliment. “Larry, why’d you run like that?”

He moaned slightly, shaking cobwebs from his head. “How do you know my name?”

“Julia told us,” Jessie replied.

Larry huffed. “Figures. Yeah, she panicked and told me that a couple of cops were pressing her about me at her job. She didn’t tell me she gave you my name though.”

“What were you doing outside the bar just then?” Jessie asked.

“I go there for lunch. What was going on inside?” his tone was a mix of suspicion and fear.

“Why don’t you tell us,” Jessie said.

His eyes darted from Jessie to John and his shoulders jumped to his ears. “I don’t know. I swear, I showed up for lunch and saw the commotion. I made my way to the door cause I can admit I’m nosey like that. I was standing there, and Julia came running up to me. She pointed you out and told me you were the cop that was asking about me at the same time you looked up and saw me.”

Jessie placed her hands on her hips. “So, you decided the best thing to do was to bolt? And didn’t think that would make you look…guilty?”

“Guilty of what? I absolutely haven’t done anything.”

John leaned forward on the bike, his lips turning to a snarl. “Did you leave that little present all hog-tied for me in the beer fridge?”

Larry looked at him confused, his mouth open, but he didn’t speak.

“How about my partner?” Jessie chimed in. “Why’d you leave him alive when you could have just finished him off as well?”

Larry looked helpless between them and his head sagged. “I have no idea what or who you’re talking about? I didn’t leave any present anywhere and I sure as shit haven’t tried to kill anyone.” He looked up, his eyes pleading. “Okay, look. I ran because you’re cops, and I thought maybe you were here to send me back to Kentucky. I…I might have an outstanding warrant there.”

“For what?” Jessie asked.

“I might be behind on some childcare payments. Okay, I’m very behind. But that’s why I’m here…to get some seasonal work so I can catch up. I swear! That’s all I’ve done.” His eyes darted between them.

Jessie couldn’t hide the disgusted look on her face. “Well, that’s more than enough in my book.” She reached down and hauled him up by his arm. “Since I’m not a police officer I can’t officially charge you with anything, but -” she looked at John – “I’m pretty sure my friend here can bring charges against you for damaging vehicles on his property.”

Larry looked at her, mouth agape. “You’re not a cop?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

John climbed off his bike and pushed it alongside them as they made their way back to the Gray Eagle. Alex was waiting outside, standing next to Julia. The young woman had her arms crossed and was shifting her weight back and forth from one leg to the other. As soon as Larry was close enough, she rushed forward, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh, baby, are you okay?” she breathed, peppering his face with kisses.

Larry brushed her aside, giving her an annoying look as Jessie pushed him in Alex’s direction.

“He stated he has nothing to do with the case, and for what it’s worth, I believe him. But he does have some outstanding warrants out of state. I’ll leave that to you,” Jessie said.

Julia took a half step back. “Outstanding warrants? You said you were here to make a fresh start? And that you were looking for someone to create a new life with?”

Jessie tried to contain a snort. “Well, he’s being half truthful. Of course, it will be easier for him to start over after he takes care of the family he was running from in Kentucky.”

Julia looked crestfallen. “I’m such an idiot. Why do I keep falling for this?” She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched Alex motion for an officer to come over and take Larry away from the scene.

Jessie approached Julia and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve known men like this. Trust me. You’re better off without him. But I think you need to go with one of these officers and give them an official, detailed statement of everything this man has said to you since meeting him.”

The woman’s lip trembled as she reluctantly nodded and headed off in Alex’s direction. “Fine. But I’m not riding in the same car with him.”

Jessie exhaled, her eyes settling back on the Gray Eagle, knowing what was going on inside. She could feel John Bartley standing next to her. “Thank you. I could have caught him myself, you know.”

He smiled, staring at the bat he owned. “I know. But me being the gentleman I am, I couldn’t resist helping out.”

She smiled slightly and turned to face him. “I need you to tell me you don’t know anything about what is going on inside your bar right now. That you had nothing, in any way shape or form, to do with it.” She locked eyes with him.

He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Nothing at all. And for what it’s worth, neither did Marlon. He was sickened by what he saw.”

Jessie nodded and turned her attention back to the bar.

“Is Alex alright? He seems even testier than usual with me,” John said.

Jessie hesitated, her mouth parting but no words coming forth. Thoughts raced through her mind. John had been a help to them many times in the past. She knew that Alex had his reservations about the man, but that was based on John’s past. He had been adamant that he wanted to turn over a new leaf. He was intent on going straight, and so far, he had never lied to Jessie. She turned to him and told him about the investigation at The Glades without divulging names, and how she felt it tied into a larger picture that they weren’t quite seeing.

He was quiet for a moment after she finished talking as he seemed to digest her words. “Sounds like Alex was lucky.”

Jessie but her eyes sharply to him. “That wasn’t luck. He’s alive for a reason. This killer is telling us something.”

“Well, if you give me a description of what to look for, I can certainly circulate it among my men. They can be another set of eyes out there for you.”

Jessie hesitated and tried to hide her uncertainty. She trusted John. Form the most part at least. But she also knew that he had a tendency to sometimes turn a blind eye to the activities of people who frequented his bar. Especially those that used to follow his lead when he was active in the more illicit dealings that happened in Pine Haven.

“It’s okay,” he said. The pained look that flashed across his face made Jessie think he had read her mind. “I get it.”

“There is knowledge that has to stay on an as needed basis when it comes to bringing outside people in. And to be honest, even you can’t vouch for all your people anymore.”

He sighed. “Can’t really argue with you there. So maybe just me. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Jessie shrugged. “I wish there was. We need to look for a connection between the first victim and this one…we’re stuck. So, that means right now, we wait for doc Lindquist to tell us everything he can about this latest killing. And we check and see if there are any other similarities between them.”

John frowned at her words. “Other similarities? That means you’ve already found some?”

“The way the victim in there was tied. It was similar to what we found with…another victim.”

“You mean Travis Benton,” John said. He smiled when Jessie gave him a surprised look. “What? You think what goes on in town doesn’t travel out here to us low life-types?”

Crimson crept up Jessie’s face. “That isn’t what I intended to imply. I’m sorry if it came across that way. But if we are going to break this case, then we need to learn as much as possible about what motivates this killer. And that means understanding why he binds his victims the way he does. What these elaborate braids and patterns are.”

John frowned, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “Braided rope? What do you mean?”

Jessie turned and motioned Alex over. “Alex, show John the picture of the rope you woke up with.”

Alex’s brow furrowed as he cast her a questioning look. She nodded, letting him know it was okay. With a sigh, the detective reached into his pocket and removed his phone. The screen flared to life as he flicked at it with his finger. Finally, he turned it around and showed John Bartley the close-up photo of his forearm with the length of red rope twisting along it.

John’s eyes widened as he snatched the phone out of Alex’s hand, bringing it close to his face.

His movement startled Jessie. “What is it? What do you see?”

John looked up at them, stabbing a finger at the photograph. “This looks familiar. I recognize the pattern this rope is tied in.”

Jessie felt a chill grip her spine. “From where? Do you have an employee or member of your club that works with rope?”

He shook his head, handing the phone back to Alex. “Definitely not a member of my club, but I do recognize this pattern. It’s called Cupid’s Braid. It’s used by couples in BDSM relationships.”

18

The man lay prone in the shadows of the tree line, the night pressing in around him like a dark, comforting blanket. He adjusted the high-powered scope with deliberate care, zeroing in on the grand mansion beyond the line of pines. Through the lens, the sprawling luxury home came into sharp focus. The glow of light in the windows gave a full view of the family inside. They moved like actors on a stage, with an audience of one hidden in the dark.

His augmented gaze focused on the man of the house—a tall, well-built figure in his late forties. He seemed at ease, unaware cold eyes watching from the woods. The man stepped into the living room, laughing with his wife, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His wife leaned close, the curve of her smile framed by expensive jewelry and the soft glow of their wealth. The children were somewhere out of sight, probably asleep in their rooms, he thought. But that was a detail he would need to be certain of moving forward. He had to know all their schedules.

He couldn’t rely just on what he’d been told.

He adjusted the focus again, his eyes narrowing as he noted the man’s posture, the subtle swagger in the way he moved through his kingdom. A sense of disdain began to burn in the man’s chest as he watched.

Wealthy. Comfortable. Secure.

The kind of man who believed he was beyond the reach of harm. The killer found it almost amusing, this false sense of safety. It was about to be shattered.

A notebook rested open beside him, its pages already filled with meticulous observations about the family—routines, patterns, vulnerabilities. He picked up his pen, adding more notes as he watched. The man had a habit of leaving the back door unlocked when he let the dog out at night. He liked to stand on the patio, staring out at the lake while sipping his drink. His guard was down in these moments, a weakness the killer planned to exploit.

There wasn’t anything the killer saw that worried him. Maybe the dog. It was a golden retriever, not one of the more vicious guard types. It wasn’t in his nature to hurt animals. People were one thing, but he considered animals to be off limits. He made a note and underlined it. He’d have to work his way around that.

He glanced back through the scope, watching as the man kissed his wife’s cheek, then headed towards the back of the house. The killer’s lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, more an acknowledgment of an opportunity presenting itself. He had options. If he could work out the dog detail, he could take the man right there on the patio, silent and swift. Or he could wait, slip inside, and make it an intimate encounter. The target had a habit of working late after his wife was in bed.

They wouldn’t be disturbed. And knowing the wife was upstairs would ensure then man wouldn’t cry out.

He tapped the pen against his chin, a slow rhythm as he weighed his choices. The urge to take his victim now was growing stringer. The compulsion to create something beautiful out of fear and pain was rattling its cage in the back of his mind. He had been surprised at how quickly he had fallen in love with his knotwork. The bindings on Benton had been a masterpiece—a complex series of loops and pulls, each one placed with precision. The bindings had been functional, yes, but also elegant in their design. There was satisfaction in the symmetry. In the control it represented.

But now, watching this new target, he wondered if he should change it up. Perhaps a different pattern, something unique to mark this kill. A new variation on his old themes. He jotted a note in the margin—“New design?”—then underlined it twice. The thrill of it prickled along his skin, the thought of doing something new, something unexpected. Should he make this one appear more personal? Less detached?

It would definitely throw her for a loop. But did he want that? He needed her to keep following the breadcrumbs until it was time.

The killer exhaled slowly, a cloud of vapor disappearing into the cold night air. He had time. Time to decide, time to perfect the plan. There was no rush. The family was here, in their little bubble. His target believed he was untouchable. Maybe he’d let him have that illusion for a bit longer. The anticipation was part of the pleasure—the knowing, while they remained blissfully unaware.

He glanced at his watch, then back through the scope. The man had moved outside now, standing on the patio, his silhouette framed by the soft light from the house. He scribbled another note—“Tonight?”—but then scratched through it.

No, not yet. He needed it to be perfect, needed the moment to feel right. A thought snaked its way into the back of his mind, and he smiled. Yes, that would be different. The picture formed instantly in his mind. It would be magnificent. He just needed to find the right location.

The killer made a couple of notes and then closed the notebook, tucking it into his pack. He dismantled the scope with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving the scene before him.

Soon. He promised himself that. Soon, he would add another piece to his collection, another knot to his black tapestry.

For now, he would watch. He would wait. And when the time came, he would strike—leaving behind nothing but the chilling beauty of his handiwork and the shattered dreams of safety.

19

John Bartley led them back into the bar and up the stairs to his office. Alex stopped briefly to check on the forensic team scouring the bar, and Jessie dropped in to see if Dr. Lindquist needed anything. He was waiting on the arrival of the paramedics’ van that would transport the body of James Poole to his lab, and assured Jessie he had everything he needed.

She nodded and followed John and Alex to the second floor. John’s office was comfortable and well appointed. A leather sofa that was big enough to double as a bed was facing a large desk with an array of floor to ceiling bookshelves behind it. Part of the shelving doubled as a bar and another section housed a flat screen television that could be pulled out and angled to face any corner of the office.

There was also an array of monitors on the shelves and John’s desk that Jessie knew were connected to the in-house security. She looked at them, arched an eyebrow, and then swung her head in John’s direction.

He waved her off as he sat down. “I already checked. There is nothing to see on the cameras. The one that covers the bar focuses mainly on the register and the patrons standing at the bar. None of them point at the coolers. I mean, why would they?”

“So, in other words, you have blind spots in your security feed,” Alex said.

“Tell us about the knots,” Jessie said, moving the discussion back to the topic at hand. “You said it’s something you’ve seen in the BDSM community?”

John settled into his chair, shoulders relaxed despite the tension in the room. “It’s called Cupid’s Braid. Not something you’d typically see outside certain circles. That’s textbook execution right there.”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “And suddenly you just happen to be an expert on this?”

“Not an expert.” John’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “I dated someone who runs a training camp of sorts. She teaches advanced rope work, among other things, for adventurous couples.” He paused, measuring his next words. “She specializes in teaching people who are interested in exploring dominate and submissive aspects of their relationship. Roleplaying. Stuff like that.”

Jessie moved to sit on the corner of John’s desk. “These camps - where exactly are they held?”

“Different locations throughout the mountains. Lady Maya - that’s her name - moves them around each season. Last I heard she was operating near Clarksville.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Lady Maya? That’s her name?”

John lifted his shoulders. “The one she goes by at least.”

“And you have no idea what her full – or real – name is?” Jessie asked.

“Lady Maya. That’s all she’s known as,” John responded.

“And you’re sure that rope work was something she could have taught?” Jessie responded.

John furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. “Yes. Like I said, it’s a textbook binding design. Although it’s usually used to secure two hands behind someone’s back. It’s designed to restrain a sub – submissive – without really hurting them. Beginner stuff from what I remember.”

Jessie studied the man. “Just how close were the two of you?”

John leaned back in his chair, a smug smile creeping over his features. “We were close. But let’s just say that our interests diverged at a certain point.”

Jessie ignored the last part. “I mean, how much do you know about her background.”

John arched an eyebrow. “That was a few years ago. So yeah, I was still involved in certain things that I have since walked away from. She never cared or asked. And I didn’t ask about her dealings either.” He settled back in his chair, unable to look them in the eye.

Alex began to pace. “So, we can’t say for sure that she isn’t involved in this.”

John appeared startled. “No way. Killing of any kind was not something she agreed with. She was vegan and cared more about all living creatures than anyone I’d ever known. The only hurt she believed in was the pain that…well, some people were into in their private life. But I never bought into that.” Again, he looked away.

Alex snorted. “I take it that must have been the divergence in interests you mentioned.”

John didn’t answer but Jessie could see the slight blush of crimson creep back up his neck. “I’m not saying she is directly involved, but if she has specialized knowledge of bonding, she might be able to help us,” she said. “If you were able to recognize that braid, then maybe she can recognize even more.”

“Good idea,” Alex said. He turned to face John. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you could put us in contact with her?”

John tapped his fingers on the desk for a bit. “I really don’t have her number anymore. That was a different time in my life.” His brow wrinkled for a second. “However, there is a website for her services. I can message her there…see if she responds.”

His eyes drifted between the two of them until Jessie finally held out both hands questioningly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Our approval?” she said.

John flinched in his chair his spine stiffening as he reached for his keyboard. The computer on his desk flared to life as he typed in a few commands. Jessie stood up and along with Alex moved to peer over his shoulder. John pulled up a website and pointed to it. “That’s her.”

Alex frowned. “Entwined Escapes. Never heard of it.”

John couldn’t hide the smirk that spread over his features. “Well, that’s not a surprise. I’m sure this is not the type of thing that would interest you.”

Alex’s head snapped in the man’s direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

John continued to smile as his fingers flew over the keyboard. “Nothing at all. Plain yogurt exists for a reason.” Before Alex could offer a reply, John pushed back from the desk. “Done. I just messaged her and asked if we could speak. Again, it’s been a few years since we had any contact, so don’t get your hopes up. For all I know, she doesn’t even remember -”

A ding came from the computer and all eyes turned to the screen.

“Well, looks like it’s safe to say she remembers you,” Jessie said.

The messenger app associated with the website flashed two words.

Long time.

John stared at the box, frozen in his seat. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly.

Two simple words that carried the weight of unfinished business. Jessie prodded him from behind. “Answer her. Ask her if she’s willing to speak with us.”

The bar owner quickly typed out a message and hit send. They waited until another ding announced an answer. John looked up, concern painted across his face. “She wants to speak with me in person…” His phone chimed almost immediately, causing him to jump. He fished it out of his trousers and stood, walking to the center of the office as he held it to his ear. “Hello?”

His voice was far more sheepish than Jessie was accustomed to hearing and she watched as he paced in place a few moments. She couldn’t make out the majority of the words he was speaking into the phone, and his stiff body language gave nothing away. He was nodding in between quickly spoken words and finally turned to look at Jessie and Alex. “Yep, I understand. I’ll be in touch.” He broke the call with the flick of his thumb and returned the phone to his pocket.

Jessie eyed him carefully. The transformation was there. It was subtle…but she caught it. The confident bar owner had been replaced by someone else. Someone more cautious and guarded.

“Well, what did she say?” Alex asked.

John blew out a breath slowly. “Well, I told her what was going on. She said she was interested in taking a look at what you have and giving her expert opinion on it.” He gave them a sheepish look. “But she has three conditions.” He moved over to the bar area behind the desk but stopped himself from pouring a drink.

“We’re listening,” Jessie said.

John puffed his cheeks out and scratched at the back of his head. “Well, first, she expects to be compensated for her time. She says if this is a consultation then she should be paid. Five-hundred dollars is her asking price. Second, she won’t come here to Pine Haven. She said if you want her help, you come to her.” He paused, looking from one to the other.

“That’s two,” Alex said. “What’s number three?”

Bartley hesitated, shoving both hands in his pockets. “Number three is that she will only do any of this…if I accompany you to her. She said that part was non-negotiable.”

Jessie took a deep breath, rolling her eyes. “Of course it is.”

20

The Jeep’s suspension groaned as Jessie guided it over another deep rut in the poorly maintained forest service road. The GPS had given up ten minutes ago, leaving them to rely on John’s questionable memory of the area. Dense walls of pine and oak pressed in on either side of the narrow road, their branches occasionally scraping against the vehicle’s frame.

“Jesus,” John muttered from the back seat as his head bounced off the roll bar. “When was the last time you had the suspension on this thing tuned up?”

Alex twisted in the passenger seat, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “What’s wrong, Bartley? Too rough for you back there? I didn’t hear you offering to drive back at the bar.”

“I would have,” John shot back, bracing himself as the Jeep hit another bump. “But my Range Rover was just detailed.”

“Right,” Alex said. “Spending eighty thousand on an SUV that can’t really go off road makes a lot of sense.”

“Oh, it can’ go off road,” John shot back. “I just choose not to.”

Jessie caught John’s eye in the rearview mirror and threw him a smirk. “Your ex couldn’t set up shop somewhere with actual roads?”

“That’s kind of the point,” John replied, grimacing as they hit another rough patch. “Her clients pay good money for isolation and privacy.”

“Among other things,” Alex muttered.

The Jeep rounded a sharp bend and Jessie had to brake hard to avoid a fallen branch. John slammed forward, catching himself on Alex’s headrest. “Watch it!”

“Maybe if you’d worn your seatbelt like I suggested,” Jessie said, navigating around the obstacle. She glanced at her watch. “How much further?”

John settled back, rubbing his shoulder. “Should be another twenty minutes, assuming the directions she sent are accurate.” He peered through the trees. “Though everything looks different than I remember.”

“Different from when?” Alex asked. “I thought you said it’s been years since you last saw this Lady Maya. And I thought you said she moves around with her business.”

“Yeah,” Jessie chimed in. “Like a pop-up bondage shop or something.”

John gazed out the side of the Jeep. “She does. But she has certain spots that she likes to return to. This is one of them.”

Jessie felt the tension radiating from Alex. It was obvious the detective hadn’t wanted John along for this trip, but Lady Maya’s conditions hadn’t left them much choice. Still, having the bar owner this close to an active investigation made Alex visibly uncomfortable.

A light rain started to fall, forcing Jessie to flip on the wipers. The mechanical swish-swish filled the awkward silence that had settled over the vehicle. Through gaps in the canopy, she could see dark clouds gathering overhead. A storm had been threatening all morning and was finally rolling in.

“You sure she’s even going to be there?” Alex asked. “And did you remember to bring the cash?”

Jessie looked in the rearview mirror fleetingly. “I think what Alex means is thank you for putting up the money.” She gave the detective a sideways, steely glance.

Alex grimaced. “The department will reimburse you. We have a rainy-day fund that we use for confidential informants. I can take the money from that.”

Before John could answer, Alex’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, checking the display. “It’s Lindquist.” He hit the speaker button. “Doc, you’re on with me and Jessie. And John Bartley.”

The voice on the other end hesitated. “Oh. Hello to the three of you.”

Jessie gave a quick glance to Alex before clearing her throat. “It’s fine. John is helping us with a possible lead on the case. You can speak freely.” She looked once more at Alex. “As long as Alex is okay with it, that is.”

The detective took in a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m good with it. Do you have something for us?”

There was a ruffle of papers in the background as the doctor rifled through his notes. “First, the cause of death was the result of strangulation, as we suspected. The hyoid bone was broken and -”

Alex interjected. “Sorry, doc…hyoid bone?”

“It’s a small, U-shaped bone in the throat, just above the Adam’s apple,” Lindquist explained. “When someone is strangled, it often breaks. In Benton’s case, the bone was fractured in two places, consistent with the ligature marks we found on his neck. The rope constriction was gradual but ultimately fatal.”

“That matches what we saw at the scene,” Jessie said, guiding the Jeep around a sharp bend.

“Yes, but there’s more,” Lindquist continued. “I found a needle mark on the right side of his neck. Blood work came back positive for ketamine - not a massive dose, but enough to temporarily incapacitate him. That explains how our killer was able to get him secured in those ropes without there being any signs of a struggle.”

Alex leaned closer to the phone. “Ketamine? That’s not something you just pick up at the corner drugstore.”

“No, it’s not,” Lindquist agreed. “It’s a controlled substance, typically used in veterinary medicine or hospital settings. Here’s where it gets interesting - I found a second injection site in his right thigh, but I can’t explain it. The tox screen didn’t show any other substances in his system.”

John shifted in the back seat. Jessie caught his movement in the rearview mirror but kept her focus on the doctor’s words. “Doctor could the second injection site have been self-inflicted?” she asked. “What if he were diabetic or injecting steroids?”

“I screened for everything, and there was nothing in his system to suggest anything like that. Plus, here’s the odd part. The needle puncture on the thigh appears inconsistent with a typical injection given during life. There’s no evidence of significant hemorrhaging or localized tissue reaction—signs we’d expect if the victim were still alive at the time of injection. The lack of inflammation around the puncture indicates it was administered postmortem. Whoever did this jabbed the victim after they were already dead.”

“Well, that doesn’t make sense,” Alex added. “Why would you wait? The killer basically tortured the man to death, but then took time to give him a needle stick after the fact?”

“I can’t explain it either. I took some tissue samples from around the area and am running some deeper tests on it. But that will take a little longer before I have an answer one way or the other about it,” the examiner replied.

“What about James Poole?” Jessie asked. “I know it’s early, but anything jump out at you?”

“And that’s the other reason I’m calling. Preliminary examination shows a similar injection mark on his neck. I’d bet money we find ketamine in his system too.” He paused letting his words hang in the air. “But here’s the thing - no second injection site like I found on Benton, but I’m just starting the full autopsy now. I’ll know more once that’s completed. I’ve also sent samples of the rope fibers to the lab for analysis. I’ll let you know if there is a match there as well.”

“Thanks, doc,” Alex said. “Keep us posted.”

“Will do.” The line went dead, leaving only the sound of rain on the Jeep’s roof and the constant crunch of gravel under the tires.

John Bartley cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, this is what the two of you do all day. Fascinating.”

“At least we’re working to keep the town safer, John,” Alex growled. “Can you say the same.”

John startled the detective by jabbing a finger between him and Jessie. “There. Take that right.” He looked down at his phone. “There should be a parking area just off that side access road. The retreat is about a half mile hike from there.”

Jessie guided the Jeep onto a narrow access road that opened into a small clearing. Three other vehicles were parked in the graveled lot - a black Mercedes SUV, a vintage Land Rover, and a modified Jeep Rubicon that made Jessie’s vehicle look modest by comparison.

“Nice rides for a wilderness retreat,” Alex muttered as they climbed out.

The rain had settled into a light drizzle, and the air was thick with the scent of wet earth and pine needles. John pointed to a barely visible trail that disappeared into the dense forest. “This way.”

They followed him single file along the narrow path, their boots squelching in the mud. The trees pressed in close, branches heavy with moisture. After about ten minutes, the forest began to thin, and Jessie caught glimpses of structures through the trees.

The retreat spread across a natural clearing, nestled against the base of a rising cliff face. A collection of high-end safari tents and small log cabins spread out around a central lodge. The buildings seemed to emerge organically from the landscape. Cedar siding that had weathered to a soft gray blended with the surrounding forest. Jessie hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t the tranquil scene that opened before them.

The drizzle of rain had nearly slowed to a stop as they approached the main dwelling. “This was a private hunting lodge originally. It was purchased some time ago by a developer and turned into a camping site. Or rather, a glamping site, as Maya likes to call them.”

“Definitely not what I expected,” Alex mused.

Before John could respond, the lodge’s heavy wooden door swung open. Lady Maya stepped onto the covered porch, and immediately Jessie felt a charge in the air.

Lady Maya stepped out onto the porch. She moved with a fluid grace that seemed at odds with her commanding presence. Her leather pants and fitted jacket spoke of wealth, but it was the way she carried herself that demanded attention. Silver rings glinted on several fingers, and an intricate collar of twisted silver wrapped around her throat, accenting her dark skin. Her natural hair formed a crown of curls that caught the mist. Tiny droplets of water formed like diamonds, glinting in the diffused light.

Amber eyes, sharp and analytical, swept over them before settling on John. Her full lips curved into something between a smile and a smirk. “John Bartley,” she said, her voice rich and smooth as aged bourbon. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.” Her gaze shifted to Jessie and Alex, studying them with unconcealed interest. “And these must be your law enforcement friends.”

Jessie stepped forward, extending her hand. “Jessie Night. This is Detective Alex Thomas.”

Lady Maya studied her as she took Jessie’s hand. “Interesting.” Her eyes trailed over Alex. “I guess we see who wears the pants in this relationship.” She gave them a full smile, her white teeth dazzling. “Please, come inside where it’s dry. I assume there is much you want to discuss.” She turned, not waiting for a response, and disappeared into the building.

John followed, hands shoved in his pockets, as Alex and Jessie exchanged looks.

“After you,” Alex said, giving Jessie a mock bow.

Jessie rolled her eyes and stepped across the threshold. Hopefully, Lady Maya would have answers they needed. But she had a feeling those answers would come at a price - and not just the monetary kind the Lady had demanded.

21

Lady Maya led them through the lodge’s main room, her boots silent on the polished hardwood floors. The space cried out calculated luxury - exposed beams overhead, a massive stone fireplace, and furniture that looked both expensive and deliberately rustic. They were greeted by the scent of sandalwood and leather.

Alex leaned close to Jessie and whispered. “Some hunting lodge, huh?”

Lady Maya guided them past a curved staircase to a door tucked into an alcove. “In here,” she said, producing a key from her pocket. “My private consultation room.”

The door opened to reveal a space that felt more like a meditation chamber than a meeting room. Deep burgundy walls absorbed the light from several strategically placed lamps. Oversized floor pillows in rich jewel tones were arranged in a loose circle on thick, luxurious rugs. Cashmere throws were folded neatly nearby.

“Interesting choice for a meeting space,” Jessie said, stepping over the threshold.

“You mean why not a proper conference room or a typical office?” Lady Maya’s lips curved slightly. “It’s because this room is soundproof. And more importantly, it’s sweep-proof.” She gestured to the pillows. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.” Her gaze drifted over the three of them, lingering momentarily on John Bartley.

“Sweep-proof?” Alex asked, choosing to plop down on a deep blue pillow to her right.

“I assume Johnathan has told you what I do, otherwise you would not be seeking me out. Some of my clients are... particular about their privacy. CEOs, politicians, people whose careers would suffer if their recreational preferences became public knowledge.” She settled gracefully onto a black velvet cushion. “They appreciate knowing their conversations and activities can’t be recorded or monitored.”

John lowered himself onto a crimson pillow, still remaining strangely quiet, even when his name was invoked. Jessie remained standing, arms crossed.

“I cannot have word getting out to my clients that there are…members of law enforcement at my retreat. This business runs on discretion.” She fixed Jessie with an unwavering stare. “The pillow won’t bite, Investigator. And you’ll find it easier to focus on our discussion if you’re not looming over everyone.”

Jessie arched an eyebrow before choosing a deep purple cushion to settle onto. “Investigator? You’ve done your homework.”

Lady Maya shrugged. “I would be remiss had I not. As soon as I finished my call with Johnathan, I took the liberty of looking the two of you up. I had to know who I was inviting into my house. Not that I don’t trust Johnathan, of course.” Her eyes cut to the man in question, and he quickly looked away. A hint of a smile flicked across her delicate features when he couldn’t meet her eyes. She glanced over at Alex, watching as he shifted his weight, his discomfort evident in his posture. “The two of you are quite the pair according to your little town gazette.”

Jessie looked around the room casually, taking in the sparse fixtures. “Why do I get the feeling you looked a little deeper than our community paper?” The woman shrugged, her features unreadable. “Maybe you could tell us something about you? I’ll admit, before we headed up here, I tried to do a little digging. You pretty much don’t exist outside of this…persona.”

“What can I say,” Lady Maya said. “My clients aren’t the only ones who value their privacy.” She folded her hands, resting them in her lap as she locked onto the private investigator. “Still, what would you like to know?”

“Bartley says you make a living by hosting these gatherings all over the country teaching people how to tie each other up,” Alex said.

Lady Maya’s head swiveled in John’s direction. “Oh? Is that what Bartley says?” She said his name with a very hard ‘B’. “Well, leave it to him to belittle the things that he never really understood.” She turned back to face Alex. “I run a number of retreats, that is true. But this, it my flagship. I purchased the lodge and the land a couple of years ago so that I could have someplace to call home. I may not look it, but I’m no longer in the…spring of my years, shall we say. So, this is where I now conduct the majority of my teachings.”

“And just what is it that you teach?” Jessie asked.

Lady Maya smiled. “I teach couples how to talk to one another without saying a word.”

Alex shifted on his pillow. “Meaning what exactly?”

She leaned back, her fingers trailing over the silver at her throat. “Most people have a fundamental misunderstanding of what bondage truly means. They see ropes and imagine control, dominance, even pain.” Her eyes flicked briefly to John. “But that’s not what this is about. Not at all.”

“Then what is it about?” Jessie asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

“Trust.” Lady Maya’s voice softened. “When someone allows themselves to be bound, they’re not surrendering power - they’re expressing absolute trust. The person doing the binding isn’t taking control - they’re accepting responsibility for their partner’s safety and wellbeing.” She paused, studying their reactions. “Every knot, every rope placement, is a conversation without words.”

Alex’s skepticism was evident. “That’s a pretty way of dressing up something that-”

“That makes you uncomfortable?” Lady Maya cut in. “Tell me, Detective, have you ever truly trusted someone with your life? Not because your job demanded it, but because you chose to?”

The question hung in the air. Jessie watched Alex’s jaw tighten.

“What I teach here isn’t about cheap thrills or instant gratification,” Lady Maya continued. “It’s about slowing down. Being present. Learning to read your partner’s smallest reactions - a catch in their breath, a slight tension in their muscles. The rope work requires focus, patience, absolute attention to detail.” She gestured to the space around them. “That’s why we practice here, away from distractions. The serenity of these mountains contributes to the silence that is needed to actually hear your partner. Every session is treated as a ritual, with clear boundaries and constant communication.”

“And people pay for this?” Alex asked.

Lady Maya offered him a flirtatious smile. “Well, not everyone has to. It you’re interested, I’m sure we can work something out. Something…quid-pro-quo.” The look on his face, followed by the complete flush of red that overtook him made her burst out in a belly laugh before she could continue. “To answer your question, they pay to learn how to be vulnerable with each other again. CEOs, doctors, people who spend their days maintaining rigid control - they come here to learn how to let go. Couples who’ve lost their connection come to rebuild trust. The ropes are just tools. What matters is what happens between the partners - the communication, the presence, the understanding.”

Jessie leaned forward. “And you teach all the rope techniques yourself?”

“Every single one. Safety is paramount. Each knot, each pattern, has to be precise. One mistake could cause injury.”

Jessie and Alex exchanged a long look until finally Jessie gave him a slow nod. He produced his phone, pulled up the picture he had shown to John, and passed it to Lady Maya.

“What can you tell us about this?” the detective said.

Lady Maya’s spine stiffened as she studied the photograph for little more than a heartbeat before handing it back to Alex. “That is not something I teach. I don’t know where that could have come from.” Her tone was stern, bereft of the emotion she had been displaying only seconds earlier.

Jessie leaned forward, confused. “Are you sure you don’t recognize it? You barely looked at the picture-”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “I mean, John said you’d recognize this. Said it was called Cupid’s …something.”

John’s eyes grew wide at the mention of his name. “Hey, I said that maybe-”

Lady Maya placed one hand on her knee, her forefinger tapping once against her leather pants. Instantly, John’s mouth snapped shut. “Whatever Johnathan may have told you, he was misspoken.”

Jessie caught something in the woman’s tone and demeanor that made her push a little harder. “Look, no one here is accusing you of being involved or knowing anything about this. We have a killer on the loose in Pine Haven and all we want to do is stop him before there is another victim. That’s all. We just need some help – some guidance – of any kind. Even if it’s only your technical knowledge.” She hesitated a moment and then took out her phone. “These are photos from the first two victims. Can you at least tell us what you see?”

Reluctantly, Lady Maya took the phone and studied the pictures. The soft light from the wall sconces caught the tension in her jaw as she quietly swiped through them. Occasionally, she would stop and pinch to zoom in on something before handing it back to Jessie. “This is...” She paused, collecting herself. “This is a perversion of everything I teach.”

Jessie nodded. “What can you tell us?”

Lady Maya pointed to the intricate pattern of knots visible in the photo of Travis Benton. “See how the ropes cross here, and here? This creates what we call pressure points. In proper bondage, these points should never intersect in ways that constrict breathing or blood flow. But look-” Her finger traced the pattern. “Every major crossing point is positioned to maximize constriction when the victim struggles.”

“So not the standard in your community, huh?” Alex said.

“Standard?” Lady Maya’s voice carried an edge. “Detective, this is the opposite of everything I teach. These knots were tied by someone who understands the technical aspects of rope work but has twisted that knowledge. They knew exactly what they were doing - creating a death trap disguised as artistry.” She reached for Alex’s arm, her movements careful and deliberate. “May I?”

Alex hesitated, then extended his arm. Lady Maya rolled up his sleeve, examining the marks left by his binding.

“Now this - this is different.” She traced the faint marks with a feather-light touch. “I saw this immediately in the photo you showed me. Notice how the knots were tied on the inside of the braid, pressing directly against your skin? That’s meant to create discomfort, irritation. But the others -” she gestured in Jessie’s direction - “On those victims, the knots are on the outside of the pattern. It’s a completely different signature.”

Jessie leaned forward and glanced at Alex. “Are you saying these were done by different people?”

“Not necessarily.” Lady Maya released Alex’s arm. “Just because they are different signatures, that doesn’t mean they were created by different people. All it means is that whoever did this had two different intentions. One is a mockery of the other. Taking something meant to build trust and turning it into...” she paused, searching for the right words. “That wasn’t just murder. It was a deliberate corruption of something sacred.”

Alex arched an eyebrow, trying to contain his skepticism.

Lady Maya read his mood, her eyes locking onto his. “This is a perversion of what bondage between two people is.” She glanced at Jessie’s phone again. “Whoever did this is into pain. Inflicting it on themself as well as on others. You’re looking for someone who likes to be hurt. And in turn, likes to see others in pain as well.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “Your killer is someone who understands the technical aspects of rope work but completely misses - or deliberately distorts - its deeper meaning. That tells me several things.”

She looked up, meeting Jessie’s gaze. “You’re dealing with someone who likely learned these techniques through observation rather than proper instruction. They’ve studied the mechanics but never embraced the philosophy behind it. Think of someone who might have been adjacent to this world - maybe working at events, conventions, or clubs where these skills are demonstrated.”

“Like a security guard? Or someone who sets up equipment?” Alex asked.

“Possibly.” She straightened her spine, silver jewelry catching the light. “But here’s what concerns me most - the level of technical precision in these bindings suggests someone who’s practiced extensively. Yet they’ve managed to stay on the periphery, never fully engaging with the community where their behavior might raise red flags.”

“A loaner,” Jessie said.

Lady Maya nodded. “To be more precise, a lone wolf. Someone with no attachment to anyone else.”

Alex looked around. When he spoke, his voice was almost apologetic. “Lady Maya, I hate to ask this. But…”

She shook her head before he could finish. “No.” Her response was immediate and firm. “Anyone I’ve trained understands that safety and consent are absolute. This was done by someone with technical knowledge but no respect for the principles behind it.” She turned back to Jessie. “Wherever they learned this, it wasn’t from me.” She glanced over at John Bartley, her finger tapping in an almost imperceptible manner. “This is not what we do here, is it Johnathan.”

His head snapped up at once. “No. Not at all.”

Alex coughed into his hand. “I don’t suppose we can have a list of your…students, could we?”

She smiled at the detective. “Sure. When you bring me a court order for it.”

Alex couldn’t resist a sideways grin as they stood and headed out of the room. As Jessie was about to exit, Lady Maya put a hand on her shoulder, drawing her back.

“Jessie, be careful with this person. I know your reputation, but anyone who can do what I saw in those pictures is capable of anything. This person thinks of themself as an artist. And they are going to keep escalating and pushing boundaries trying to perfect that art.”

Jessie smiled and nodded. “I will. And thank you for your help. Would it be alright if I follow up with you if I have further questions?”

Lady Maya smiled as they walked through the door. “Of course. Anytime.”

“Oh, one thing,” Jessie added, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Any chance you can show me that finger thing you do that shuts John up?”

This brought out a genuine belly laugh from Lady Maya as she escorted Jessie down the hall and back to the main entrance of the lodge. they said their goodbyes and she left Jessie at the front door. The buzzing on her cell phone distracted her just enough as she was walking onto the porch that she didn’t see the man in front of her until she crashed into him.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Jessie said, looking up from her phone. “I wasn’t watching where I was -”

She stopped just as the man raised his head, an apology hanging on his now frozen lips. “Jessie?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Eric?”

Before he could answer, Mark came around from the corner of the house to join his husband. He froze, staring at Jessie. Jessie quickly pointed in the direction of the hiking trail that would take her back to the parking area. “I’m … I’m just going to go. I’ve got… you know, stuff waiting for me back home…”

“Yeah, we were … we were just leaving. Had to deliver some canned -”

Jessie held up her hand and gave them a nervous smile. Without a word, she stepped off the porch and made her way to the edge of the woods where Alex and John was waiting on her.

“Thought we lost you for a minute there,” Alex said. He read her face. “Everything okay.”

“Better than okay. I might have found a way to get some inside information on our little retreat here.”

22

Dusk was approaching by the time Jessie pulled into the Gray Eagle’s parking lot. Long shadows stretched across the gravel as she killed the engine. Alex had already retrieved his car from the station, leaving just John to drop off at his bar.

John didn’t move from the back seat immediately. In the rearview mirror, Jessie could see him staring out the window, his fingers absently tracing patterns on his knee. It was a distraction mechanism she was all too familiar with.

“You okay back there?” she asked, turning in her seat to face him.

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance. “Yeah, sure. Just...thinking. Old memories rattling around.” His hand rested on the door handle but didn’t pull it. “That was... different than I expected.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, I should get inside. Check on things.” He pushed the door open but paused halfway out. The fading sunlight caught the tension in his face as he turned back to her. “Listen, about Maya...”

Jessie waited, letting the silence stretch between them.

“She’s brilliant. And she knows her stuff - everything she told you about those knots, about the kind of person who could do this? That’s all solid.” He drummed his fingers on the door frame, then let out a dry laugh. “You know that whole thing about charging for her services today? The five hundred dollars?”

“What about it?”

“That was just her way of testing you guys. Making sure you were not wasting her time.” He shook his head. “Maya doesn’t care about money. Never has. What she really wants...” He trailed off, his gaze distant.

“What does she want, John?”

He shook his head. “That’s just it. I don’t know. What she is after isn’t something on the surface. She likes to understand what makes you tick.” His voice carried an edge of something that sounded like old pain. “She has this way of... seeing things in people. Things they don’t even see in themselves. And once she does...” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just say there’s always a price, but it’s rarely about money.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Jessie said carefully, watching how his shoulders tensed at her words.

“If Maya’s helping, if she’s offering information...” He rubbed at his neck where a faint sheen of sweat had formed despite the cool evening air. “She’ll want something in return. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. And it’ll be something that matters. Something personal.”

Jessie studied him, wondering if he had somehow overheard her conversation with Lady Maya as they were leaving her consultation room.

“John...” Jessie started, but he cut her off with a sharp wave.

“Just... watch yourself. She has a way of making you see things her way. Of making you question things you thought you knew about yourself.” He climbed out of the Jeep, then leaned back in, his knuckles white where they gripped the door frame. “And Jessie? If she reaches out to you directly? Be careful what you agree to.”

Jessie nodded. Either he had definitely overheard them, or he knew her far better than he had let on.

“Thanks for the warning,” she said, “but I’m a big girl.”

He nodded, giving her a half smile as he climbed out. “That you are.”

Jessie watched him walk toward the bar’s entrance. His usual swagger was replaced by something uncharacteristically brittle, as if he was holding himself together through sheer force of will.

She waited until he was inside before starting the engine. The Jeep’s headlights cut through the growing darkness as she turned onto the main road leading back to Pine Haven proper. John’s warning played on repeat in her mind, mixing with the images of Lady Maya’s knowing smile and the elaborate rope work in those crime scene photos.

Blizzard was waiting at the door when Jessie walked in, his tail sweeping across the hardwood in wide, happy arcs. She barely had time to set her keys down before a hundred pounds of white fur pressed against her legs, demanding attention.

“Miss me, did you?” She scratched behind his ears, smiling as he leaned into her touch with a contented groan. “Sorry about being gone so long. I bet you’re ready for your food.”

That got his attention and he bounded happily to the back of the kitchen where his water and empty food bowl waited. He sat with exaggerated patience while she filled his bowl, but the moment she set it down, his composed demeanor vanished. Jessie laughed as he attacked his dinner with his usual enthusiasm.

“At least someone’s having a good day,” she said, watching him demolish the kibble.

When he finished, Blizzard trotted to the door, looking back at her expectantly. The leash hung on its hook nearby, and his eyes tracked her every move as she reached for it.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to make this a quick walk, okay? We’ve got somewhere to be.”

Blizzard led the way down their usual path, but his typical patrol of the perimeter was rushed. He sensed her urgency and handled his business with unusual efficiency before steering them back toward the house.

“Good boy,” Jessie said, unclipping his leash. “Now, want to go for a ride?”

At the word ‘ride,’ Blizzard’s ears perked forward and his whole body wiggled with anticipation. He bounded to the Jeep, waiting by the passenger door with barely contained excitement.

Sometimes, Jessie thought as she watched him leap into his seat, it was nice to have one relationship in her life that was completely uncomplicated. No hidden agendas, no cryptic warnings - just unconditional loyalty and the occasional demand for belly rubs.

“Ready?” she asked, starting the engine. Blizzard’s answering bark made her smile. “Yeah, me too. Let’s go see what Mark and Eric have to tell us.”

The Pine Haven Bed & Breakfast was a postcard come to life at the edge of the lake. Clapboard siding gleamed under strategically placed landscape lighting, and the wraparound porch was dotted with comfortable rocking chairs. Hanging baskets overflowed with seasonal flowers, adding their fragrance with the ever-present scent of the lake.

Jessie pulled the Jeep into the drive, catching glimpses of cozy light spilling from the windows. Several guest rooms were occupied, judging by the cars parked in the designated spaces. Blizzard’s tail started wagging as soon as he recognized where they were.

“Yeah, I know,” Jessie said, scratching his head. “You’re looking forward to those fancy, homemade dog treats that Mark makes.”

The old wood creaked beneath their feet as they made their way up the porch steps to the front door. Before Jessie could knock, Blizzard’s nose pressed against the beveled glass, his breath fogging the pane.

She had barely rapped twice when Eric opened the door, flour dusting his apron and a knowing smile on his face. “Mark!” he called over his shoulder. “I told you she’d show up tonight!”

From somewhere in the depths of the house, Mark’s voice drifted back. “Of course she did. I already put the kettle on.”

Eric stepped back, gesturing them inside. “We just started a batch of pumpkin breads to bake in the morning for the guests. Mark is determined I’m going to learn to bake.”

Blizzard trotted past them, heading straight for the kitchen where Mark’s voice had originated. Jessie smiled as she heard Mark cooing and calling to the shepherd.

The spacious kitchen smelled deliciously of uncooked dough and pastries. Mark was on one knee, ruffling Blizzard’s fur. “You really should get one of your own,” Jessie said.

Mark made a pretend face of annoyance. “Why? So I can have hair all over the place and permanent slobber stains on all the furniture?”

Jessie laughed. “I’m happy to say that Blizzard has not once slobbered on the furniture.”

Mark mumbled something she couldn’t make out and proceeded to get a couple of treats from a jar on one of the open shelves in the kitchen before happily sharing it with the shepherd. He finished with the dog, washed his hands, and set about placing three mugs on the massive kitchen island. He placed his hands on the island and leaned forward. “So, am I to assume this is more than just a social call?”

“That depends,” Jessie said, her smile approaching flirtatious. “How much are you willing to tell me about what you were doing at Lady Maya’s retreat.”

Eric moved to busy himself with the dough he had been shaping, and Mark strummed his fingers along the granite island top as he studied Jessie. “Look,” Mark finally said, measuring his words carefully. “We really were just delivering food. It’s become a nice little side business for us.”

Eric nodded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “The retreat participants love our pastries. And Lady Maya pays well. So, that’s really why we were there this time.”

Jessie’s spine stiffened just a bit as she zeroed in on him. Eric was a big man and the sudden flexing of the muscles in his arms came from more than just the effort he was putting into kneading the bread. Jessie could sense the sudden tension hit both of them. “This time?”

Mark let out an exasperated sigh. “Ugh, not like that…” He walked over to his husband and began to correct something in Eric’s bread-making form. Then he sighed. “Well, since someone can’t keep a lid on things,” he gave Eric a sideways glance, “we did initially trade free deliveries and breakfasts for…um…a demonstration. We were curious, but quickly realized it wasn’t for us. And we’ve never done it since.” His cheeks flushed slightly, and he couldn’t meet Jessie’s gaze.

“Hey,” Jessie raised her hands. “I’m not one to judge. But I would be curious to know who comes and goes from that place when you’ve been there.” She saw the pair exchange nervous glances. “Look, I know. Everything is confidential that happens there. High powered rollers – yada yada. But I’m working on two cases and now have two bodies that point to the work of someone with a deep understanding of how bondage works. I’m not asking for names – just does anyone strike you as being…off.”

Their faces screwed up into masks of concentration and finally each shook their head.

“Sorry,” Mark said. “Everyone actually seemed pretty cool. Lady Maya runs a very tight ship. Very professional, very...” He searched for the right word.

“Very controlled,” Eric finished. “In a good way.”

Jessie sighed. “Thanks. Were they mostly couples? Any single men there?”

“Nope,” Eric replied. “I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules. You must have someone you’re partnered with to practice the techniques with. No singles allowed.”

“Figures,” Jessie said, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice. On a whim, she retrieved her phone and opened the photos application. She pulled up a picture of James Poole. “Ever seen this guy up there?” They both shook their heads. “What about him?” This time she showed them a picture of Larry Burns.

“Nah, doesn’t look familiar,” Eric said. Mark nodded in agreement.

“Alright. Well, thank you guys. I should probably be getting Blizzard back. It’s been a long day,” Jessie said.

“But your tea…” Mark said.

She smiled at him. “Rain check. I’ll come back when I have more time to visit. Plus, I want to try that bread Eric’s making.” She watched as he was gathering it together and then cut pieces of cooking twine to place around it. “Oh hey, one more…” This time she pulled up a close-up photo of Travis Benton’s face from Dr. Lindquist’s examination table.

“Oh, gross, Jessie,” Mark said, turning away quickly. “You know I hate seeing stuff like that. And no. Never seen that man -”

“Wait,” said Eric, leaning his face closer to the screen. “Yeah, we’ve seen him before. Remember that guy that went on and on about those blueberry scones you made? He kept saying you need to open a bakery.”

“Oh yeah,” Mark chimed in. “He was there with his girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Jessie said. “Is that how he introduced her?”

Eric thought for a second. “No. We just assumed.”

“Did you get her name?” Jessie asked.

Eric frowned. “Yeah, it was…Emma? Or Erica…”

“Everly!” Mark said. “I remember thinking what a weird way to shorten Beverly, but I think that was her actual name.”

Jessie felt frozen in place and forced a smile at the two men. “Thank you, both. You’ve been a big help. I’ll, um, see you later…” She got up to leave motioning for Blizzard to follow.

“No, problem. I’ll save you some of the bread if slowpoke here ever finishes,” Mark said. “No, honey, not like that…tie it with the knots on the outside so we can remove them easier when the bread has baked. Otherwise, we have to cut it off and you risk tearing the bread…here, like this…”

Jessie stopped, digesting Mark’s words. She wheeled to face them. “Mark, what did you just say?”

He looked at her curiously then pointed to the loaf of bread he was working on. “The dough. To get it to bake in the shapes we use you tie it with cooking twine. Eric’s all thumbs and for some reason his knots always end up on the inside against the bread which mean they have to be cut off. But if you tie them so the knot is on the outside, you just pull the piece of string hanging loose and it slips right off.”

She stared at the lump of dough he was shaping, her jaw going slack. When she looked up at him, her eyes were wide. “Mark, I am so happy with you right now I could kiss you.” She motioned to Blizzard and the two of them rushed from the kitchen.

Mark called out after her. “Aww, that’s so sweet! But please don’t.”

Jessie barely heard their combined laughter as she exited the bed and breakfast and hurried to her Jeep. Her mind was racing. Who could have guessed that a lesson in baking could lead to a potential break in a murder investigation.

23

The next morning, Jessie was a whirlwind of activity. She fed Blizzard, went for a quick run along the lake with him, and was showered and ready to leave the house just as daylight was breaking over the mountains.

Truthfully, she had been up most of the night, making notes on the break-in and the murder at The Glades. Admittedly, hearing Everly’s name associated with their murder victim had unnerved her, and she was more convinced than ever that the two incidents were somehow connected.

She just needed to figure out how.

She had nearly called Alex before she considered the hour and opted to send him a text. She told him to be at his office at eight because she had new information that could be relevant to both their cases.

On the drive in, she made a quick call to the only other person she hoped would be up and about.

“This is Will,” came the answer over her speaker phone.

“Will, it’s Jessie Night. I hope it’s not too early.”

“Jessie!” His voice carried the overly caffeinated enthusiasm she’d come to expect from him. “Not at all. The paper isn’t going to print itself. But what about you? You’re up early. Or late. Sometimes it’s hard to tell with you.”

“I need a favor.”

“Those are my favorite words from you. Means there’s a story brewing.”

Jessie guided the Jeep around a sharp curve, choosing her next words carefully. “What do you know about a place called Entwined Escapes? It’s a retreat center up near Clarksville.”

“The bondage place? Not much beyond rumors. They keep to themselves.” There was a pause, followed by the sound of typing. “Though now that you mention it...”

“What?”

“Last month the mayor’s office approved some kind of special use permit for that property. I remember because it was handled really quietly. No public hearing, which is unusual.”

Jessie’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Will, I need you to do some digging. Find out who owns that land, who’s behind any permits being filed, everything you can about any potential business structure.”

“Is this for an investigation you’re running? Or does it have to do with the murder that happened at The Glades?” The pause in the conversation was louder than any response.

“Will, you know I can’t comment on any open investigations. And you also know I won’t violate the confidentiality of any client I may be working with,” Jessie said.

“And you know I respect that…but after everything is solved and all investigations are complete…?”

Jessie smiled broadly. “You know there is no one else I’d rather give the scoop to.”

More typing sounds. “Property records are public, but...” He trailed off. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“The property was purchased through an LLC. Multiple layers of corporate ownership. Someone went to a lot of trouble to keep their name off the paperwork.”

“Can you untangle it?”

Will’s laugh crackled through the speaker. “Please. I’ve spent three years covering city hall and the mayor. I know my way around a paper trail. Give me a few hours and I’ll get back to you.”

“And Will? Don’t draw attention to what you’re looking into.”

“You know me better than that. I’ll call when I have something solid.” He paused. “Jessie, I know you’re basically a superhero and all…but be careful dealing with The Glades. Rich people with secrets tend to bite when cornered.”

She ended the call as Pine Haven’s modest downtown came into view. If Will was right, someone had gone to considerable effort to hide their connection to that property. The question was why.

The police station parking lot was half empty when she pulled in. Most of the cars that were there belonged to the overnight shift and Jessie found herself nearly blinded by the harsh morning reflection bounced off the windshields. She recognized Alex’s car pulled into its usual spot near the rear of the light and angled her Jeep next to it.

The front desk was unmanned as she made her way inside. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet corridors, blending with the distant clatter of ringing phones and radio chatter. A tired-looking dispatcher glanced up from her screens, giving Jessie a quick nod before returning to her work.

The halls were empty as she made her way back to Alex’s office. It was dark and empty, his desk still a cluttered battlefield of case files and papers. She grinned, shaking her head. It looked exactly as it had the day he moved in. She checked her phone, making sure she hadn’t missed any messages from him.

The tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee brewing pulled her towards the breakroom. Before she reached it, she heard the murmur of low voices. One was definitely Alex, the other carried the precise tones she’d come to associate with Dr. Lindquist.

She rounded the corner and stepped into the break room to find them both standing at the counter. Alex was slumped against it, while Dr. Lindquist gripped his coffee cup with white-knuckled intensity. Neither looked like they’d slept. They turned as she entered, and their expressions made her stomach tighten.

When she found her words, they felt heavy. “What’s going on?” She glanced Alex’s way. “Did you get my message?”

He nodded. “I did. I was already here, speaking with the doc about something.”

Jessie’s eyes flicked questioningly over to the medical examiner.

Dr. Lindquist’s face was drawn. The dark circles beneath his eyes competed with the pallor of his skin. “I was just telling Alex about something I found during the autopsy on Travis Benton.”

“Something new?” Jessie asked.

“Actually, something old.” The doctor’s voice carried an edge she hadn’t heard before. “I got the results back from the tests I ran on the tissue around that second needle mark on Mr. Benton’s thigh. You might want to sit down for this.”

Jessie remained standing, her eyes moving between the two men. “What did you find?”

The examiner took a deep breath. “The test came back positive for XR-572. The same paralytic agent that your brother used to subdue his victims.”

And just like that, Jessie felt the blood rush from her brain, and darkness reached for her.

24

The harsh, overhead lighting pulsed like a heartbeat. Jessie blinked slowly, her vision swimming back into focus as the familiar heavy fog began to lift from her mind. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and there was a dull ache at the base of her skull that she recognized all too well.

Once again, she had succumbed to something that was beyond her ability to control.

The breakroom gradually materialized around her. She was on the floor, her back against the cold cinderblock wall. Alex sat beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not quite touching. It was exactly the way he’d learned to handle these episodes. His presence was steady and grounding, but not intrusive.

“Welcome back,” he said softly.

Fragments of memory started piecing themselves together. Dr. Lindquist’s voice. Something about the autopsy. A chemical compound. XR-572. The paralytic agent. The moment everything had started to spiral away from her.

Shame crept up her neck as she noticed Dr. Lindquist crouched in front of her, holding out a paper cup of water. His gaze was clinical now and held something that was hard for her to discern. Concern, maybe. Or curiosity.

She hated both.

“Small sips,” he instructed as she took the cup with trembling fingers. “Your body’s coming out of a significant stress response.”

She wanted to tell him she knew the protocol, that this wasn’t her first rodeo, but her tongue felt too thick for words. Still, the water was cool against her parched throat.

“How long?” she managed finally.

“About fifteen minutes,” Alex answered. “Not as bad as before.”

Jessie looked down and saw her fingers tapping away at her thigh. The calming, staccato rhythm helped her to focus and reclaim control of her body.

Dr. Lindquist settled into one of the plastic chairs, maintaining a respectful distance but keeping her in his field of observation. “These episodes - how frequently do they occur?”

“Not often,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Only when...” She trailed off, not wanting to admit how certain triggers could shut down her entire system.

“Only when something connects to her past, or is exceptionally traumatic,” Alex finished for her. She shot him a look, but he just shrugged. “He’s a doctor, Jessie. And he just watched you go catatonic at the mention of...” This time it was his voice that trailed off.

“You know, there are several medications that can help manage acute stress responses like this,” Dr. Lindquist said. “I’d be happy to refer you to -”

“No.” The word came out sharper than she intended. “Thank you, but no. I’ve tried that route. The meds dull everything, not just the episodes. I need my head clear.” She attempted to push herself up, but her legs weren’t quite ready to cooperate. Alex’s hand appeared at her elbow, steadying but not helping.

The room had that peculiar stillness that came after early morning chaos. Someone had closed the break room door, giving them privacy. Coffee cups sat abandoned on the counter where Alex and Dr. Lindquist had been standing when she’d walked in. Had walked in to learn that…

“XR-572,” she said, the designation feeling like glass in her mouth. “You’re certain?”

Dr. Lindquist nodded grimly. “The lab ran the analysis three times to be sure. The concentration in the tissue around the injection site was significant.”

Jessie closed her eyes, fighting back the wave of dizziness that threatened to pull her under again. She felt Alex shift beside her, ready to catch her if needed.

“I’m fine,” she said, more to herself than them. “I just... need a minute.” She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. When she opened them, both men watching her carefully. Alex’s face showed concern - he knew parts of her history but not everything. Dr. Lindquist’s expression was one she had seen on many doctors’ faces over the years. He was cataloging her responses.

She walked over to the dispenser and poured another cup of water. She felt better, sharper now. “So, two things. How could someone have gotten their hands on a restricted, military-grade paralytic that officially doesn’t exist? And why was it injected in the man on top of ketamine? Wouldn’t he have died from that?”

“Normally, yes. The combination of those drugs would have been more than the human system could withstand. However, in this case, I’m fairly certain the XR-572 was administered post-mortem.”

Jessie straightened. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” The medical examiner pulled a folder from his bag that was nestled on the chair next to him. “If the compound had been injected while Travis was alive, it would have shown up in his blood work, just like the ketamine did. But it didn’t. The mass spectrometer analysis of the tissue sample from around the injection site showed high concentrations of XR-572. I took other tissue samples from random areas on the body, and it wasn’t present.”

“Because his heart wasn’t beating,” Jessie said quietly. “Nothing was circulating.”

“Exactly. The compound stayed concentrated in the tissue around the injection point. That’s why we missed it initially. It was only when I ran the tissue through the gas chromatography-mass spectrometer that we found it.” He spread several papers on the table. “See these peaks here? That’s the chemical signature.” He jabbed a finger at several graphs in different colors on the printout.

Alex leaned in, studying the readouts. “So, our killer drugs him with ketamine, ties him up, watches him strangle himself, and then injects him with this XR-572 stuff? Why? What’s the point?”

The medical examiner could only offer a wide-eyed shrug. “I’m just presenting the medical evidence I found. The why’s behind the mind that did this is your jurisdiction.”

Jessie’s hands were trembling slightly as she set down her water cup. “It was a message.” She looked at the two men. “Just like the one that was sent by tying that red rope around your arm.”

She saw the look in Alex’s eyes and knew he was starting to put it together.

“It was for me.” She met Alex’s eyes. “The killer knew exactly what they were doing. XR-572 isn’t something you stumble across. It’s not something you can buy on the dark web or steal from a hospital pharmacy. It was developed for very specific military applications, and its existence was never made public.”

“Your brother,” Alex said carefully. “The one who-”

“Killed a lot of innocent people. And tried to kill both of us,” Jessie finished.

Dr. Lindquist lifted his glasses. “And the one that you… took care of? Yes, I can see how that would trigger a stress induced -”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jessie said, cutting him off. Guilt flooded her face. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to snap. Yes, you’re right. I did what I had to do in order to save us. I’ll have to live with that. And yes, someday I’ll have to deal with how I feel about those actions. But for now, we need to find out who our killer might be.”

“I’ve pulled a list of Travis Benton’s business partners and am going tom start looking into that. I’ve put in a request for his financial records as well. For some reason, his wife wasn’t particularly forthcoming with those, so it looks like we do things the hard way,” Alex said.

Jessie was nodding as the detective spoke. “Good. I was going to suggest looking deeper into his background. I learned that Travis Benton was seen at our little retreat up in the mountains. Apparently, he was there with my client, Everly Wilson.”

Alex couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “Interesting.”

Yes,” Jessie added. “Especially since Everly told me that the families barely knew one another. It also seems the kids are a lot closer than I was led to believe as well. While you’re looking into Travis’ background, I think I’ll pay Everly another visit.”

“Then we can compare notes. Is that what you needed to talk to me about?” Alex replied.

For a second, Jessie was confused, before the real reason she had wanted to see him came flooding back to her. “Pumpkin bread.” The two men in the room exchanged worried glances and she found herself waving her hand dismissively. “I was watching Mark teach Eric how to make pumpkin bread -”

“Wait, Eric was baking?” Alex interjected. “What’s next, Mark will be outside maintaining and painting the deck?”

Jessie gave a half shrug. “Yeah, I thought it was strange as well – but that’s not the issue here – like I said, he was learning. And one of the things that Mark was showing him was how to bind the dough so that it cooks in various shapes. He was showing the importance of tying the loaves with the knots on the outside – to make it easier to remove the cooking twine when the bread is done. If the knots are on the inside, you have to cut them free, which can mire the look of the finished product.”

Alex scratched at his chin as he digested her words. “If he’s going to kill them, why care if we have to cut the ropes off? I’m not following.”

“Maybe,” said Dr. Lindquist, “it’s not for us.”

Jessie was nodding. “Exactly. What if the placement of the knots on the outside are for him to be able to free the victim easier if he needs to.”

Alex frowned as he followed along. “As in maybe our killer had a change of heart? Or in case he was interrupted?” He looked questioningly at the medical examiner.

Dr. Lindquist shook his head. “From my autopsy findings, there were no signs of the ropes being loosened and applied more than once.”

Alex turned his attention to Jessie. “So, you’re thinking this might alter his MO?”

Jessie clenched her jaw in thought. “Not sure. But it feels like it’s something I need to add to our profile of this guy. For someone as meticulous as this, it would not be in character for him to not care about having the knots be on the inside or the outside of the bindings. I mean, both Travis Benton and Mr. Poole were tied the same way. Your’s was the only one different.”

The sound of Dr. Lindquist dropping his hands heavily onto his lap before standing jolted Jessie. “Well, I am going back to the lab to write up and catalogue the new findings on Mr. Benton. I will leave the matter of catching the monster that killed him … in your highly qualified hands. If I find something else, you’ll be the first to know.” He got up and started out of the break room, pausing in front of Jessie. He gave her a nod. “You know where to find me if I can help in any way.”

Jessie felt herself start to blush as he left them. She knew how much he cared. And she wished she could just accept the help. Maybe find a medication regiment that helped her without impairment.

But that wasn’t something to focus on at the moment. There were other issues.

She turned to Alex. “I’m going to speak with Everly. Let me know if you find anymore connections between our victims. No matter how small they might appear.”

Alex nodded and headed for his office. Jessie returned her cup to the sink washed and dried it, before replacing it in the cabinet. She glanced at her watch as she left the building. It was early and that meant she might catch Everly off guard. There was a reason that Everly neglected telling her that she knew Travis.

And Jessie was determined to find out why.

25

It was now or never, Thaddeus thought.

One swing would end it all. Or he’d miss and that would be the end for him. The man standing next to him was better than Thaddeus had thought. Younger by only a few years, but when it came down to one-on-one, a few years could more than tip the scales one way.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, gripping the racket tighter.

The ball felt like a lead weight in his hand. Thaddeus served hard, the ball smashing against the front wall and ricocheting to the back corner. His opponent reacted swiftly, returning it with a sharp backhand.

They exchanged volleys at a blistering pace. The sound of rubber against wall echoed like rapid gunfire. Thaddeus lunged for a low shot, barely keeping it in play. His muscles screamed, but he pushed the pain aside.

His opponent sent a high lob. Thaddeus seized the opportunity, smashing it back with all his might. The ball clipped the wall’s edge—a fraction off. Out of bounds.

“Point,” the man said calmly, lowering his racket.

Thaddeus gulped air, trying to slow his pounding heart.

“You’re not bad,” the man replied, gripping his hand firmly. “But maybe next time, don’t telegraph your shots.”

Thaddeus chuckled dryly. “Advice from the victor. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two men packed their gear and slipped out of the squash courts and started towards the dressing room. Thaddeus wasn’t used to the eerie quiet and lack of bodies bustling through the hall. He raised an eyebrow at his new friend. “Impressive. How’d you manage this? I’ve always been told no one is allowed to use the facilities outside of approved hours.”

The man shrugged casually. “Let’s just say I have friends in high places. Thought we’d get in some practice without the usual crowd.”

“Well, I’m not complaining. Always wanted to play on that court, but it’s impossible to get,” Thaddeus replied.

The man checked his watch as they entered the locker room. “Sauna? We have about thirty minutes before the place opens.”

Thaddeus considered the offer. It would be nice, but he had a lot of work waiting on him. He was grateful to be able to get in a workout before the markets opened, but he knew this couldn’t become a habit.

The other man sensed his hesitation. “Come on. Fifteen minutes won’t kill you.” Now it was his turn to look at his watch. “Although…I guess I should be going. I’m supposed to be on a call with my latest recommendations for a holding company we are liquidating in Singapore. So maybe we should go…”

Thaddeus’ ears perked up. He knew the man was a finance wizard, but this was the first time he had hinted at anything tangible Thaddeus could potentially work with. “Hey, maybe you’re right. That thrashing you just gave me has left my shoulder a little achier than usual. A few minutes might translate to a world of good later in the day.”

The man nodded. “Good. We’ll make it fast before everyone gets in.”

They changed into towels and headed for the dry sauna. Thaddeus’ mind raced as he tried to find a reason to bring up the man’s work.

“Markets are restless again.” Thaddeus smirked. “But when aren’t they? It’s all a game of who blinks first.”

“True, but the stakes are getting higher,” the man said. “Emerging markets are shifting the balance.”

Thaddeus made an educated guess. “You’re talking about the BRICS nations.”

“Exactly. Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa—they’re not content playing second fiddle anymore.”

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. “You think they’re ready to redefine global trade?”

“They’re already doing it,” the man replied. “China’s Belt and Road Initiative is more than infrastructure. It’s about creating new economic corridors.”

“Fair point,” Thaddeus conceded. “But with great power comes great responsibility—or so they say.”

The man chuckled. “Responsibility isn’t always the priority. Influence is. Look at how digital currencies are changing the landscape.”

Thaddeus worked to keep his composure. This was the in he had been waiting for. “Cryptocurrency? That’s volatile stuff.”

“Not just crypto,” the man clarified. “Central Bank Digital Currencies. Governments are getting in on the action. China’s digital yuan, for example. Billions in untraceable currency. It’s the new offshore account for those in the know.”

Thaddeus swallowed. “So untraceable, huh? Like, not even… family could get to it?”

The man shook his head. “Not at all. Unless you share it, it isn’t going anywhere.”

“So where does that leave traditional investors?” Thaddeus inquired.

“At a crossroads,” the man said. “Adapt or become obsolete. Those who understand the nuances of these shifts will thrive.”

Thaddeus leaned in. “Got any tips for staying ahead?”

The man gave a sly smile. “Only for my very close friends.” He looked down at his watch and then wiped the accumulation of sweat from his brow. “Whew. I think that’s enough for me this morning.” He climbed down and headed for the door, stopping to give Thaddeus a wolfish grin. “So, I guess it’s a good thing I’m starting to consider you a good friend.” He pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool, air-conditioned hall that would take them back to the lockers.

Thaddeus followed after him. “Hey, I’m sorry. That was a breach of ethics to ask that. I had no right to ask that. Especially considering we barely know each other. It was the heat – went straight to my head.”

The man swung around. “No, it wasn’t. Don’t apologize for looking for ways to get ahead in this world. You’re a good man, Thaddeus. So, let’s talk later…away from any potential prying eyes.”

Thaddeus smiled as the man held the locker room door open for him. He stepped past him and nodded. “Thanks, man. And I’ll def reciprocate.”

“Do you know how I know you’re a good man, Thaddeus? I can always tell by the way a man treats his dog. And you love that golden of yours.”

Thaddeus smiled. He really did love that retriever – and then he stopped, frowning. “How do you know I have a dog?”

He turned, just as the needle was jabbed into his neck.

“What the—” His hand shot up, but his fingers met only a fleeting sting.

The space around him swirled. His vision blurred, the walls twisting like a funhouse mirror. Panic surged. He tried to turn, to call out, but his limbs felt leaden.

The floor rushed up to meet him. Darkness swallowed his thoughts before he could grasp what was happening.

26

Jessie pulled the Jeep into the circular drive of the Wilson estate. A grounds crew was already at work, the quiet hum of electric trimmers providing background music to their synchronized movements.

The front door opened before Jessie could ring the bell. Everly stood there in designer yoga wear, phone pressed to her ear. Her perfectly styled hair and fresh makeup suggested she’d been up for hours, though Jessie doubted she’d broken a sweat.

“No, absolutely not. I want the Carrara marble for the guest bath. Yes, I know there’s a wait list.” Everly’s eyes widened at the sight of Jessie. She held up one manicured finger in the universal sign for ‘wait.’ “Listen, Jorge, just make it happen. That’s what I pay you for.” She ended the call with a sharp tap. “Jessie. This is... unexpected.”

Jessie smiled. “I’m sorry, is this a bad time? That call seemed… important.” They both knew it wasn’t really a question.

Everly smiled dismissively. “Oh, that? No, I am having some renovations done back at our main house. The contractor is just so lazy, however. You know how it is if you’re not right there on top of them every minute. Please, come in.” She stepped aside and allowed the investigator to walk past.

“Yeah. I can imagine,” Jessie said, entering the house and following Everly into the great room.

“Forgive the mess. My designer sent me some things to approve and I’m just going over them.”

Ahead of them, Jessie could see the organized chaos that had taken over the room. Swatches of fabric draped over furniture, paint samples taped to walls. The kind of carefully curated disorder that came with unlimited funds and too much free time.

“So,” Everly began, “I suppose you didn’t come here to hear about my remodeling woes.”

“No,” Jessie said. “I came to talk about Travis Benton. And why you didn’t tell me you knew him better than you let on.” She watched Everly closely, knowing that her body language would most likely reveal more than words.

The color drained from Everly’s face. For a moment, her carefully maintained facade cracked. “Maybe we discuss this over a juice or some coffee. I just had fresh coffee delivered from that little place in town.”

Of course she did, Jessie thought. Because in Everly’s world, even coffee wasn’t something you made yourself.

As they entered the kitchen, Jessie had to give the woman credit. Other than initial shock at what Jessie had said, she was back to her calm, cool and collected self. The coffee mug Everly set in front of her seemed almost too delicate to drink from. But the coffee that came out of the large, custom thermos smelled divine. Jessie recognized Angela’s signature blend from the notes of currants and dark berries that reached her nose. Everly placed a single packet of sugar and a dainty cup of cream in front of her and then sat on the chair next to Jessie.

“Um, aren’t you going to have any?” Jessie asked.

Everly shook her head. “Oh, I don’t touch caffeine. Bad for the skin.”

Jessie watched as Everly’s fingers drummed absently on the marble countertop. The woman’s posture was perfect, practiced, but there was tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago. “So, Everly. What was the nature of your relationship with Travis Benton? And don’t deny it because I have eyewitnesses that have seen the two of you together.” She watched Everly’s sharp eyes and could see the woman weighing her answer.

Finally, she let out a sigh. “We were acquainted with one another.”

Jessie held the woman’s gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Everly arched a single, sharp eyebrow. “He wasn’t dead when I hired you.” She looked away and seemed to regret the remark. “We were potentially looking into business opportunities together. That’s all.”

“Were you sleeping with him?” Jessie asked, keeping her voice neutral.

Everly’s head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Excuse me?”

“Travis Benton. You were seen together at Lady Maya’s retreat.” Jessie noted how Everly’s right hand suddenly stilled against the counter. “That’s quite a place to take a casual acquaintance.”

“How dare you-” Everly started, then froze. Her head tilted slightly, listening. The house’s silence stretched around them like a living thing.

Without warning, she stood and moved to the kitchen doorway. She peered down both directions of the hallway before returning to her seat. “The children,” she explained. “They’ve become quite adept at eavesdropping lately. Especially Gia.” She lowered her voice. “My daughter thinks she’s protecting me. From what, I’m not quite sure anymore.”

Jessie made a quick mental note. “Teenagers. They might not admit it, but they are probably more interested in what their parents are doing than what their friends are up to.”

Everly’s perfectly manicured hands clasped together on the counter. “You’re right. I should have told you about Travis. But you’re wrong about the affair.” She met Jessie’s eyes directly. “We weren’t sleeping together. It was... something else entirely.”

“I’m listening,” Jessie prompted, watching as Everly’s perfectly maintained composure began to fray at the edges.

“Our going to that retreat was… research. It was a potential business venture.”

Jessie’s curiosity was piqued, and she sat down her cup and swiveled on her chair so that she faced Everly. “What kind of business?”

“Lady Maya is looking to grow her business. She wants to franchise her retreats. And Travis wanted to get in on the ground floor. I was intrigued. The profit models Travis showed me were… significant.”

“Travis Benton needed financial help? From what I’ve seen of his lifestyle-”

“It was all smoke and mirrors.” Everly’s voice dropped even lower. “The house, the cars, the country club memberships - it was built on paper. Bad investments, failed start-ups overseas. He was drowning.” Her fingers worked at an invisible thread on her yoga pants. “His wife had no idea. None of them do - the wives in The Glades. We all pretend everything’s perfect.”

“And you were going to bail him out? Why?”

Everly’s carefully applied makeup couldn’t hide the flush creeping up her neck. “Because I needed something of my own. Something that wasn’t tied to my husband’s name or his money.” She swallowed hard. “Do you know what it’s like to suspect your spouse is planning to leave you? To feel completely powerless?”

Jessie considered the woman’s words. When she spoke, she made sure there were no traces of judgement in her tone. “And where did you get the money to do it?”

Everly looked away. “Well, I didn’t have it at the moment. But I was working on a way to get it. There is a fund set aside for the children’s future. I thought if I could just tap into it, and then repay it, I’d have been set.” Her jaw tightened. “I can feel your disapproval. And part of this is why I hired you. I honestly don’t care if Thaddeus was just having an affair. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first. But this just felt different, Jessie. I really think he is planning to leave me, and I was terrified of what that meant. Everything is in his name. After all I did for him and this marriage… I would have been cast aside. And I refuse to let that happen.”

There was a defiance in her voice that Jessie might have found admirable had it been a different situation. “A preemptive strike. I get it. Does anyone else know that you and Travis were considering this? Is there anyway your husband could have found out?”

“God no.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Can you imagine? ‘Darling, I’m investing in a high-end bondage retreat.’ He’d have me committed.” She stood abruptly, moving to the window overlooking the lake. “I know how it sounds. Desperate housewife making bad decisions. But, like I said, I needed... something. Some kind of security that was mine alone.”

Jessie’s mind was racing, and she saw Everly’s features harden with shock.

“Wait, you don’t think…” Everly began, “I mean, there is no way Thaddeus would have anything to do with Travis’ murder. Even if he found out.”

Jessie didn’t respond. From bitter experience, she had learned that money could often bring out aspects of a personality that even the ones closest to them had no idea existed. If Everly was willing to go to such an extreme in order to secure her future, what could her husband be capable of in the same situation?

“Everly, I know I said that I would keep you insulated in this, but things have changed. The fact that Travis was murdered, coupled with the fact that you and he were considering going into business together… I just can’t guarantee that other authorities won’t need to speak with you.” She didn’t specify who the other authorities might be. She didn’t have to.

Everly let her head sag at Jessie’s words. “Damnit. I understand you have to do what you feel is right, but I still need my kids shielded from all of this.”

There was a commotion coming from the main stairwell that interrupted their conversation. Voices talking over one another, followed by heated shouting, and angry, heavy footsteps on the wood flooring.

“That’s not fair and you know it!” It was Ashley’s voice carried down the curved staircase. “You can’t just decide-”

“We already told you what would happen!” That was Gianna, her tone sharp with familiar edge of an elder sibling.

“Look, let’s just take a breath and-” Tad junior started, his voice nearly drowned out by the thunder of teenage feet on hardwood.

“Hey! What is going on?” Everly was already moving, Jessie close behind. They reached the foyer just as the three teenagers spilled down the stairs, a tangle of designer clothes and morning hostility. Tad, Gianna and Ashley stood at the base of the steps, staring daggers at one another.

Whatever tension there was among the teenagers disappeared almost immediately when they saw Jessie. Tad crossed his arms and leveled a hard gaze at his sister before both youths turned to Ashley.

“Ashley,” Everly’s voice carried the practiced calm of a woman used to managing social casualties. “I think perhaps it’s time you headed home. Your mother could probably use your company right now.”

Ashley’s lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced between the Wilson siblings, a silent message passing between them. “Fine.” She grabbed her designer backpack from the bottom of the stairs. “But this isn’t over,” she added under her breath, just loud enough for Tad and Gianna to hear.

After the door closed behind her, Everly turned to her children. “What was all that about?”

The teens shifted uneasily where they stood. Finally, Tad let out a long sigh. “It’s just nonsense stuff, mom.” He cast a look at his sister. “High school drama.”

Gianna nodded, mumbling something that Jessie didn’t catch. She shook her head in exasperation. “Tad’s right. It’s nothing.”

“Really?” Everly said. “Because it certainly sounded like something.”

Gianna let her arms drop to her side and rolled her eyes. “Mom. Just drop it. And where’s dad? I’m supposed to meet Madison and Kelsey at the coffee shop in town. He said he’d drop me off before locking himself away in his office all day.”

Everly glanced at her watch. “That’s odd. He should have been back from the gym nearly an hour ago. He’s probably just running late. He’ll be here.”

More exaggerated eye rolling from her daughter ensued. “Mom, I can’t be late walking in to meet them. I need to be there first.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I have a call with the designer and as soon as that’s over I’ll drop you off if your father’s not back.”

“This wouldn’t happen if we had our own cars,” Tad said.

“We are not having that conversation. Go walk the dog, please. Gianna, I’ll take you to town after my call.”

Tad huffed, looking up at the retriever that sat on the spacious landing halfway up the stairs. “Come on, boy.” The dog trotted happily down to meet him, and they headed for the door.

“I can give Gianna a ride,” Jessie offered. “I’m headed that direction anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t know...” Everly hesitated, her eyes darting between her daughter and Jessie.

“Mom, please,” Gianna protested. “I’m already late.”

Everly’s shoulder’s tensed, but she nodded. “Alright. But straight to the coffee shop, understood? No detours. You call me or your father when you’re ready to be picked up. Deal?”

“Deal.” Gianna nodded and turned to face Jessie. “I just need to grab my purse.” And bounded up the stairs.

“Thank you. Though you didn’t have to…” said Everly.

“It’s not a problem. But we will finish this conversation later,” Jessie told Everly, watching as the woman’s hand moved unconsciously to her phone, no doubt preparing to text her husband.

“Yes,” Everly said absently, already scrolling through her contacts. “We will.”

She walked away just as Gianna returned and immediately headed for the door. She gave a quick, annoyed glance over her shoulder at Jessie before pulling the door open. Jessie followed her and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Gianna looked around at the Jeep. “This is your actual car? You go places in it?”

Jessie forced a tight-lipped smile. “All the time. Had it for fifteen years now and she’s never let me down.”

Gianna gave her a horrified look before turning her attention to whatever was speeding by outside her window.

Thoughts flashed through Jessie’s mind. The time she had with the teen was short, and she needed to make the most of the time she had been afforded. “Gianna, I know we don’t know one another but I can only imagine how awful all of this must be for you. Especially with the victim being so close to your family.” The teen replied with what sounded like a disinterested grunt, her eyes never leaving the passing scenery. “Did you know Mr. Benton?”

Gianna’s head swiveled in Jessie’s direction. “Depends on what you mean by knowing.”

They had arrived at Main Street and Jessie eased the Jeep into one of the angled parking spots in front of the shop. “I just mean, it seems like such a terrible thing for his family. That Ashley and her mother had him taken away from them in such a horrible manner.”

Gianna scoffed, a look of disgust passing across her features as she reached for the door handle. “Please. They’re better off without that monster.”

Jessie’s head snapped around at the girl. “Why do you say that?”

The Jeep door creaked as Gianna pushed it open, throwing one leg out. “Why don’t you ask Mrs. Benton why she always wears long sleeves in the summer. Or why she sometimes had to wear those giant, old-school sunglasses everywhere she went.” The hard edge the teen had cracked just a bit. “Trust me they are better off without him. They just don’t want to admit it.”

The door shut behind her and Jessie was left with the weight of her words. If what the girl had suggested was true, then that changed things considerably. The way the teen had spoken didn’t seem like repeated hearsay to Jessie. Gianna knew something. Possibly more than she had just let on.

If Travis Benton was abusing his wife, then the list of suspects had just grown by two.

27

“I’m sorry, but there’s just no way to describe that. It’s something you have to experience.” Lady Maya’s voice was velvety smooth over the phone.

Jessie paced the length of her living room, phone pressed to her ear. Blizzard watched from his bed in the corner, head tilted at his human’s obvious discomfort.

“Understanding the victim’s experience?” Lady Maya’s voice carried that same silk-over-steel tone Jessie remembered from their meeting. “That’s quite a specific request, Detective Night.”

“I need to understand what would be going through someone’s mind if they were to wake up and find themselves so intricately bound. It has to be different than going into the situation willingly,” Jessie said. “I need to not only get into the headspace of the killer, but the victim as well.”

“You’re assuming there would be a difference,” Lady Maya said. “I can’t try to understand the killer’s mind, but for the person being bound, I would be willing to bet that the experience would be far more similar than you might suspect.”

“How’s so?”

“Well, for starters, the victims first instinct would be to try and make sense of what was happening. And that means they would be laser focused on what the only other person in the room was telling them. The dominant one would hold all the cards. And the most important of those cards would be communication.”

Jessie’s mind was buzzing as she digested Lady Maya’s words. “The victim is literally a captive audience.”

“Exactly. And what’s going to be foremost in their mind? Surviving. And in a situation like that, survival might hinge on what their captor is saying.”

Jessie stopped her pacing. “In my experience, when someone is facing a life-or-death situation, they tend to zero in on anything that gives them a hint of survival. Maybe, the killer is dangling that in front of them, like a carrot.”

“Go on,” Lady Maya coaxed her.

“I keep going back to what you pointed out – that the knots being on the inside of Alex’s rope is different from all the ones on the outside of murder victim. I went back over those phots carefully and there was not one visible knot tied inside the rope. Could the killer have used that as the carrot? Maybe, they were able to loosen or undo one of the knots in order to demonstrate that they held the victim’s life in their hands, and could free them if needed.” She shook her head. “But why? What would the point of that be?”

“Perhaps they were torturing them. To get them to reveal something. If the victim believed they would be set free…that could make them cooperate.”

Jessie considered the scenario. “I suppose that’s possible. But as far as we could tell, nothing was taken from the scene.” She hesitated. It was bad enough that she had already involved Lady Maya in the investigation. She had to be careful how much more she revealed. Especially since the killer could be someone close to Lady Maya. But Jessie had made a career of trusting her instincts in certain situation. She had to hope that she wasn’t wrong in feeling that Lady Maya was genuinely trying to help her. She took a calculated risk and continued. “Everything we learned from the autopsy report points to the fact that the victim struggled considerably against the bindings before finally succumbing to strangulation.”

“So, maybe that was what the killer was after. That was what they stole from your victim.”

Her words clicked with Jessie, and she found herself nodding along. “The killer wasn’t after anything physical. But that would mean the carrot he offered the victim was false. Which blows a hole in that theory.”

Lady Maya hesitated before answering. “Maybe not. If the killer is a true sadist, what would be the ultimate form of torture for someone. To give them hope only to watch it fade away.”

A thought flashed through Jessie’s mind. One that terrified her. “Would it be possible for the victim to free himself from a binding like the one that killed Travis Benton?”

“Maybe…I mean, sure, it would be possible. If the victim knew where the trigger points on the rope were, and which knots were impacted by it.”

“Could that also explain why the knots were on the outside? Maybe, the killer wanted to see if his victim could free himself. Can you tell me how that would work.”

Again, there was silence on the other end. “And that takes me back to the start of the conversation. It’s not something I can explain like that.”

Jessie felt her frustration begin to well up. Her free hand moved unconsciously to her throat. “Lady Maya, if Travis could have freed himself…I really need to know how that could work.”

“Potentially. With the right knowledge, the right moves.” Lady Maya’s voice took on a clinical edge. “But here’s what you need to understand about being bound against your will - panic is the enemy. The more you struggle, the tighter certain knots become. It’s about physics, about pressure points and leverage.” Jessie could hear her lick her lips as she continued. “Think about it. Your killer creates an elaborate binding that could theoretically be escaped, but requires absolute calm and specific knowledge to do so. It’s like putting someone in a maze where panic leads to death, but clarity might offer salvation.” Lady Maya’s voice dropped slightly. “That’s not just murder, Jessie. That’s judgment.”

Judgement.

The word struck Jessie hard as she mulled it in her mind. “Lady Maya, I know you said you can’t explain to me how it works, but could you show me? In person.”

“Why, Jessie Night, are you asking me to bind you?” Lady Maya’s voice dropped, her tone playful and dark.

“I’m asking you to help me get inside the mind of a killer.” The pause was so long that she feared Lady Maya had disconnected their call. “You still there?”

“I’m here.”

“But?” Jessie prompted, sensing the woman’s hesitation.

“But I need you to understand exactly what you’re asking for.” Lady Maya’s playfulness had vanished, replaced by something harder, more serious. “To truly comprehend what Travis Benton experienced, you would need to feel that helplessness. That moment when you realize struggling only makes things worse. When panic starts to override reason.”

Jessie’s throat went dry. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t. Not yet.” A rustling sound came through the line, like Lady Maya was shifting position. “These bindings - they’re not just physical restraints. If we do this, you might just come face to face with … things you would rather not deal with.”

“I need to understand,” Jessie insisted, but her voice wavered slightly.

“Fine. Come up to the retreat tonight. Bring someone with you whom you trust.”

Jessie thought for a minute. “Deal.”

“But not the detective. His energy is off. His concern for you will… interfere. It needs to be someone that you’re not afraid to be vulnerable in front of.”

“Alex has seen me at my most vulnerable. My trust in him is unwavering.”

“Fine,” Lady Maya said after a moment of quiet. “If that will put you more at ease. Come when you’re ready. And Jessie? Wear something tight-fitting and comfortable.”

The line went dead, and Jessie found herself staring at the phone in her hand. She looked down at the shepherd that was watching her closely, his head cocked to one side. She let out a long sigh. “What am I about to step into, boy?”

She took a deep breath and called Alex.

28

The evening fog clung to the mountainside like a shroud, turning the trail ahead into a series of gray shadows. Jessie’s boots crunched against loose gravel as she led the way along the narrow path that led from the parking area to Lady Maya’s retreat. Behind her, Alex’s heavy footfall matched his mood.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” he said, not for the first time.

The concern in his voice made her steps falter, but she pressed on. “You know why we have to do this.”

“Do I?” Branches scraped against his jacket as the trail narrowed. “Because from where I’m standing, voluntarily letting someone tie you up using the same technique that killed two people seems less like investigation and more like-”

“Like what?” She turned to face him, catching the worry etched in his features.

“Like maybe we’re taking things too far too fast. Hell, Jessie, Lady Maya could be involved with the killer. For all we know she might be the killer.”

The fog swirled between them, carrying the damp smell of earth and decay. Somewhere in the distance, a branch snapped, making them both tense.

“And you think I haven’t considered that?” Jessie said. “I’ve weighed the risk. We trusted her enough to share information about the case. She hasn’t given us a reason to regret that. Do you have any leads on the killer so far? Cause I’ve hit a brick wall with the break in at the Wilson’s house. If there’s a connection – and I believe there is – I’m not seeing it.” Alex broke his stare, looking down at the ground between them. “If she can help us, give us anything to work with, then we need to accept it.” She turned, resuming their march. “And yes, I know how dangerous this is. That’s why you’re here with me.” She tried to break the tension. “Anything on that background check on Travis Benton?”

“Nothing yet.” His voice floated from behind her shoulder. “He doesn’t have a record. If he’s been abusing his wife, it’s never been reported.”

“Figures,” Jessie mumbled.

The lodge materialized ahead of them, dark and uninviting. It was the complete opposite of the warmth exuded the last time they had visited. Lady Maya was standing on the porch, a silver and crimson shawl wrapped tightly around her lithe form. Her dark eyes moving between them with unsettling intensity. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.” Her gaze settled on Jessie. “You haven’t, have you?”

“No. I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

Lady Maya led them to the back room where they had previously met and stood to one side as they entered the space.

To Jessie, the room felt different this time. Shadows that had previously softened the burgundy walls now seemed to sharpen every edge. Lady Maya had cleared the floor cushions away, leaving only a single black mat in the center of the room. On it lay an array of ropes - some thick as her thumb, others delicate as shoelaces - arranged with disturbing precision.

“These are all hemp-based,” Lady Maya explained, moving to the mat with fluid grace. “Without touching them, I couldn’t tell from the pictures what type of rope your killer used.” Her fingers trailed over the ropes, sorting them by length. “But going by what I could see, these weave patterns are similar.”

Jessie approached the mat slowly, painfully aware of Alex’s tension radiating behind her. “And you can recreate what the killer did?”

“Close enough for your purposes.” Lady Maya selected a length of rope and tested its give between her hands. “Your killer would have used a modified technique. Something learned but adapted. My students take what I teach them and personalize their bindings. It becomes an extension of who they are. This killer would have done the same thing.”

“Jessie.” Alex’s voice carried a warning. “We can still find another way.”

Lady Maya looked up. her dark eyes fixed on Jessie. “The detective is right. I know you think this is just an exercise for you. One that you can analyze and use to help build a profile of your killer. Maybe discern a flaw in his work. But bondage is far deeper than surface analyzation. It can trigger things in the one being bound.”

Jessie frowned. “Such as?”

Lady Maya offered her a wry smile. “The body can remember what the mind might prefer to forget.”

Jessie stared at the ropes, fighting the urge to take a step back. They looked innocent enough laid out on the mat - just lengths of twisted fiber, nothing more. But in the right hands, or the case of the killer, the wrong ones - they became something else entirely.

She needed to act before Lady Maya’s words wormed their way too deeply into her consciousness.

“Show me,” she said quietly. “Show me how he did it.”

Lady Maya nodded slowly, reaching for another rope. “Remove your jacket. And Detective Thomas? You’ll want to stay where she can see you. Having a focal point helps with the panic when it sets in.”

When, Jessie noted. Not if.

Lady Maya held the length of rope between her hands, her movements deliberate and measured. “Normally, this would be a slow process. There would be discussion of boundaries, of triggers, of safe words. The submissive partner would be eased into the experience through trust-building exercises.”

Jessie stood in the center of the mat, fighting the instinct to cross her arms over her chest. “But that’s not what happened to Travis. He wasn’t given a chance to acclimate.”

“No.” Lady Maya’s voice carried a hint of sadness. “What you’re about to experience will be closer to his reality. The confusion, the loss of control, the rising panic when you realize struggle only makes things worse.” She moved behind Jessie, close enough that her presence raised goosebumps on Jessie’s neck. “Are you absolutely certain about this?”

“I’m sure.” But her voice didn’t waver.

“Then the first thing you need to understand is that there are two types of panic,” Lady Maya said, letting the rope slide through her fingers. “There’s the immediate fight-or-flight response when you’re first restrained. That’s biological, instinctive. But then there’s the deeper panic that comes after - when your mind starts to process its own helplessness.”

The rope whispered against Jessie’s sleeve.

“Travis Benton would have experienced both,” Lady Maya whispered. “And both are what killed him. If he experienced what I suspect - The initial panic made him fight the ropes, triggering the constriction points. But it was the psychological panic that kept him struggling long after he should have gone still and tried to think his way free.”

Jessie felt the first loop settle around her wrist. Her pulse jumped, and she had to force herself not to pull away.

“Your body is already starting to resist,” Lady Maya observed. “Heart rate increasing, muscles tensing. And we’ve barely begun.” She paused, her voice softening as she turned her head to Alex. “At this point, do not interfere, no matter what, until we are finished.”

Jessie’s mouth had gone dry. “Show me exactly what Travis would have experienced.”

Behind her, she heard Alex exhale sharply. But it was Lady Maya’s response that sent a chill down her spine.

“As you wish. Just remember - you asked for this.” She cleared her throat. “Lie face down, arms at your sides.”

Jessie complied, the mat cool against her cheek. She heard rather than saw Lady Maya’s movements - the whisper of rope, the subtle shift of weight on the floorboards as the woman stepped from the hard floor onto the mat.

The first binding came without warning. Swift, practiced movements secured her wrists, the rope snaking around them with shocking efficiency. Before she could process that restriction, Lady Maya had already moved to her ankles.

Jessie started to tense up, but another length of rope was already crossing her back, pinning her arms to her sides. “Wait, how are -?”

“No talking,” Lady Maya said sharply. “A victim doesn’t get to negotiate.”

The ropes continued their journey across her body, each new binding reducing her range of motion until even the smallest movement felt impossible. Jessie’s breath quickened as the reality of her helplessness set in.

“Notice how your chest is starting to tighten?” Lady Maya’s clinical tone seemed to come from far away. “That’s not the ropes. That’s your mind processing its loss of control.”

Jessie tried to shift position and felt something change in the bindings - a subtle tightening that made her freeze.

“Ah, you felt that.” Lady Maya’s fingers traced one of the knots along Jessie’s back. “These are your trigger points. Every time you struggle, they convert that movement into increased pressure. The more you fight, the tighter they become.”

To demonstrate, she touched a specific knot near Jessie’s shoulder blade. “Try to move your right arm.”

Jessie did, and immediately felt the rope constrict across her chest. Her pulse spiked, a roaring sound filled her ears as primitive panic began to rise.

“Jessie?” Alex’s voice cut through the growing fog in her mind. “You okay?”

“She’s experiencing what Travis felt,” Lady Maya said. “The moment when you realize that every instinct you have - every natural response to being restrained - only makes things worse.” She moved into Jessie’s line of sight. “The difference is, you went into this willingly, you know this will end. Travis didn’t have that luxury.”

Jessie forced herself to take shallow breaths, fighting against the urge to thrash against the bindings. But her body had other ideas. Each small movement triggered another constriction, creating a feedback loop of panic and pressure that threatened to overwhelm her.

“The constriction is focused on your chest, preventing your lungs from expanding. For Travis, the constriction point was around his neck. It would have stopped both oxygen entering his system and cut off the blood flow to the brain. What you’re starting to feel would have been ten times worse for him,” Lady Maya said. She bent down, her lips close to Jessie’s ear. “What you need to understand is that escape was possible. But only for someone who could master their fear. Who could think through the panic.” She touched another knot. “These bindings are a puzzle. Solve it wrong, you die. Solve it right...”

At this point, the ropes felt alive, responding to Jessie’s smallest movements with increasing pressure. Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision as dark memories and other moments of helplessness, threatened to surface.

“Maya,” Alex’s voice carried a warning. “That’s enough.”

“No,” Jessie said through gritted teeth. “Not yet. I need to know how it would work to get free.”

Lady Maya looked at her, a flush of new admiration crossing her features. “Very well. First, you need to understand that these bindings work on a system of counterweights. Each knot is connected to others in a specific sequence.”

She placed her hand gently on Jessie’s shoulder blade. “Feel this point here? This is your primary trigger. When you struggle against it...” She pressed lightly, and Jessie felt the ropes constrict. “But if you move with it instead of against it...”

Jessie tried to follow the pressure of Maya’s hand, letting her body roll slightly to the right. The binding loosened fractionally.

“Good,” Lady Maya’s voice was softer now, encouraging. “The trick is to work with the ropes, not against them. Think of it like picking a lock - each movement has to be precise, deliberate.”

Lady Maya’s fingers traced another knot near Jessie’s elbow. “This one connects to your chest binding. Most people instinctively pull away, which triggers the constriction. Instead...” She guided Jessie’s arm in a subtle rolling motion. The pressure eased slightly. “The human body has natural stress points,” Lady Maya continued, her fingers moving with professional precision. “Places where nerves cluster, where tendons connect to bone. In proper bondage, we avoid these points. But your killer...” She traced a spot where the rope crossed Jessie’s shoulder. “They deliberately targeted them.”

Her touch moved to where the ropes intersected at the base of Jessie’s neck. “This is your first critical point. A master knot. It’s always here, no matter who ties you or how they do it. The human neck is vulnerable - physically and psychologically. When bound, our instinct is to protect it.”

Jessie felt the slight pressure increase as Lady Maya demonstrated.

Lady Maya’s voice took on a darker tone. “Your killer knew these points intimately. Knew how to place knots so they would seem like salvation points but actually function as traps. Feel this one at your wrist?” She touched a deceptively simple-looking knot. “It looks like a standard binding, but it’s connected to three other trigger points. Pull here thinking you’ll free yourself, and instead...”

The slight tug sent cascading pressure through the entire rope system. Jessie gasped as the bindings constricted in sequence.

“A perfect trap,” Lady Maya said softly. “Because it plays on our deepest instincts. We think we see a way out, but reaching for it only seals our fate.”

“The killer knew all of this,” Jessie said, understanding dawning through her discomfort. “They knew escape was a possibility.”

“Exactly. Now, very slowly, I want you to arch your back. Just a fraction.” Lady Maya’s hand supported Jessie’s movement. “Feel how the tension shifts? That’s your window of opportunity. In that moment, the binding system is temporarily suspended.”

Jessie followed the instruction, feeling the subtle change in the rope’s pressure points. But when she tried to capitalize on the loosening, she moved too quickly. The ropes instantly tightened again, drawing a sharp gasp from her.

“Patience,” Lady Maya cautioned. “This isn’t about strength or speed. It’s about understanding the system. Finding its rhythm.” She paused. “Would you like me to continue, or have you seen enough?”

Jessie closed her eyes, forcing back another wave of panic. “re-tighten the ropes. Show me the rest. Show me everything Travis would have needed to know to save himself. And I don’t care if we have to be here all night.”

29

Steam filled the bathroom as Jessie let the hot water caress her shoulders. Each drop struck tender spots where Lady Maya’s ropes had left their mark. Angry red lines traced a map of vulnerability across her skin. She rotated her wrists slowly, examining the distinct pattern of striations that circled them like bracelets.

The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the emotional weight that pulled at her. Foggy memories that had been long buried had clawed at her, demanding to be acknowledged. During the bondage, she had found herself fighting two battles – the physical fear that crept in as a result of being rendered completely helpless, and the emotional ennui that threatened to sweep over her.

If this was what she had felt under controlled conditions, what was going through the minds of the killer’s victims?

Through the steam-fogged glass of her shower door, she could make out Blizzard’s white form sitting sentinel on the bathroom mat. He hadn’t left her side since she’d returned home. His body seemed to mirror the residual tension still coiled in her muscles.

But it had been worth it. She had gained new insight into the sadist they were hunting. The drive back from the retreat had allowed her to work through additional aspects of his profile with Alex. She could tell that Alex had wanted to talk about her experience – specifically how she was mentally after such an experience.

And that was the last thing she wanted to discuss. Especially since that wasn’t a topic she was ready to broach. Instead, she had distracted him by throwing out theories as to how the break in at the Wilson house and the death of Travis Benton could be connected.

The working theory they had agreed on hinged on the only video evidence they had seen of the killer moving through the back side of The Glades to get into the Benton household. Whomever he was speaking with had tom be an accomplice. Possibly, that was the person that had broken into the Wilson house. But why?

There had to be a connection between Benton and the Wilson household. And the only connection they had discovered had been the one between Everly and Travis Benton.

Despite the heat of the water, a chill passed through her as she remembered the drug Dr. Lindquist had found in Travis’ body. A drug with direct ties to the brother she had been forced to kill.

Something was there. She was sure of it. A piece of the puzzle missing and she couldn’t help but think that once she found it, everything else would fall into place.

She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, letting the water drum against her back. The connection was there. Hovering just at the edges of her consciousness. Something about the way both scenes felt choreographed, performed. There was a theatrical aspect to the staging of Travis Benton’s death. And something about the break in at the Wilson’s felt… off.

She knew what the next step had to be, and she dreaded the very thought.

Thaddeus Wilson.

She needed to speak with Everly’s husband would - she was certain of that now. But approaching him meant potentially destroying whatever fragile trust she’d built with Everly. The woman had hired her to investigate her husband. But what if that was a smoke screen? What if she was looking at the wrong person in the marriage?

Jessie turned off the water, watching the last drops spiral down the drain. She knew what she had to do. The question was, whose life would she have to upend to get to the truth?

She stepped out of the shower just as her phone buzzed. She picked it up from the counter and held it to her ear. “This is Jessie.”

“Hey, Jessie, it’s Will. I’m sorry to call you first thing, but I wanted you to know I got some information you might be interested in.”

Her mood perked up at the reporter’s words. “That was fast. Want me to come to you?”

“Let’s meet at the bakery. I’ve had all-nighter and could use the caffein.”

“Not going to argue with you there.” She glanced at her watch. “I can be there in an hour.”

“It’s date.”

The line went dead, and Jessie turned to Blizzard. “Okay, boy, time to get dressed and get a move on. Let’s hope Will found a missing puzzle piece for us.

The morning rush at Angela’s had thinned by the time Jessie arrived. Will Mason sat in the far corner, his laptop open and surrounded by a fortress of papers. His camera bag – his constant companion - occupied the chair next to him.

He looked up as she approached, pushing wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. He smiled and cleared some papers from the table space across from him.

Jessie slid into the chair across from him, noting the intensity in his usually casual demeanor. Angela appeared at her elbow with coffee before she could ask.

“Well, this looks serious,” Angela said, eying the papers eating up the table. “I’ll keep the refills coming.”

Will waited until they were alone before leaning forward. “So, Entwined Ventures LLC. That’s the company that owns the retreat property. Sounds innocuous enough, right?”

“Until you dig deeper, I’m betting,” Jessie prompted.

“You know it,” Will agreed, shuffling through papers. “The LLC was formed five years ago by one Thaddeus Wilson. But here’s where it gets interesting - Travis Benton was brought on as managing partner three months ago.”

Jessie’s coffee stopped halfway to her lips. “Managing partner? If that were the case, why would Everly tell me he was looking for seed money from her in order to invest?”

“According to the filing documents, he was being positioned to lead the company’s expansion plans. Lady Maya’s vision for franchising her... unique business model.” Will’s voice dropped. “But there’s more. The ownership structure had a very specific succession clause.”

He slid a document across the table. Jessie scanned it, her eyes catching on the legal language.

“In the event of primary shareholder dissolution or death,” she read aloud, “all assets transfer to Travis Benton as sole beneficiary.”

“Nothing was set up to go to the surviving spouse,” Will added. “Nor to Lady Maya.”

Jessie sat back, pieces clicking into place. “So, if anything happened to Thaddeus...”

“Benton would inherit control of a very profitable enterprise. One that he could then do with as he pleased.” Will tapped another document. “The interesting part? This clause was added the day before the break-in at the Wilson house. But this paperwork never officially filed with the state. It was sitting in the office of the LLC’s legal team.”

Jessie frowned. “How on earth did you get ahold of this?”

“Let’s just say I have sources that owe me favors and leave it at that.”

“So, whoever broke in to the Wilson house could have been looking for that document.”

“Or, whoever pretended to break in,” Will added, his voice dropping. “And here’s the kicker - after Travis’s death, the whole succession plan went into limbo. No one’s filed new paperwork. It’s like everyone’s waiting to see what happens next.”

“Or someone’s making sure nothing gets filed,” Jessie murmured. “If the filing was never legalized, what would happen succession wise if something happened to Thaddeus?”

Will’s eyes glinted as he stared at her. “Everything would go to his spouse. Think about it - if she did know, finding out her husband planned to hand over a multi-million-dollar enterprise to Travis instead of her...”

“Would be one hell of a motive,” Jessie finished. The pieces were starting to align, but something still felt off. “And this LLC- is it only involved in property ownership, or are their other ventures?”

Will ruffled through the papers until he found the one he needed. “Oh, they had holdings all over the United States and in the Caymens. I’m sure most of these listings are fronts for legit businesses looking to shelter money. They also were branching out into government contracts as well it seems.”

Jessie froze. “Government? What kind of contracts?”

Will scanned the paper. “Pharmaceutical developments for VA hospitals it looks like.”

Jessie’s spine stiffened. “That’s it. Focus on that. Do you think you can find out more about that arm of the LLC? I need everything you can dig up.”

Will frowned. “I guess. Though that might be a little harder. The government doesn’t really like to share what they’re involved in…” his eyes focused on something in the distance. “However…”

“What?” Jessie asked.

“Maybe I don’t need to get in through the government side. This LLC is kind of in shambles right now. I’m betting I can pull the contracts if I can just find…” again his voice trailed off as he gathered the scattered papers. “Don’t worry. I know where to start looking.” He grabbed the cup of coffee in front of him and finished it off before standing. “Give me the rest of the day. I’ll get back to you.”

Jessie stopped him as he started to head for the door. “Will, be careful. Don’t take any unnecessary chances looking into this.” He smiled and nodded before disappearing out the door.

Jessie stood just as her phone rang, the words ‘unknown number’ popping up on the screen.

“Hello,” she said, head out the door.

“Well, hey, Jessie. I hear you’re looking for me.”

She stopped in her tracks. “Who is this.”

“I’m the guy that killed Travis Benton and that poor gatehouse guard.”

30

The voice was controlled, almost pleasant. Like someone discussing the weather rather than murder.

Jessie’s pulse quickened as she stepped away from the bakery’s entrance. Her fingers moved automatically to her phone’s recording app, tapping the screen to capture the call.

Jessie kept her voice steady, professional. “Why should I believe you?”

A soft chuckle filtered through the line. “Fair enough. Let’s see... Travis had a small scar on his left wrist. Surgical. From when he broke it playing tennis fifteen years ago. I noticed it while I was binding him.” The voice dropped lower. “The rope kept catching on it. Interesting how small details can complicate things, isn’t it?”

Jessie’s mouth went dry. That was one of the details that hadn’t been in any report.

“Still skeptical?” he continued. “Want me to tell you how old James Poole whimpered and whined, going on and on about how he wasn’t ready to die yet. Blah, blah, blah. Also - you’ve been seeking counsel with Lady Maya. Tell me, how’s that working out for you? Learning anything... enlightening?”

There was something about the way he said ‘enlightening’ that bothered her. She moved further from the bakery windows, scanning the street. “Have you been watching me?” The thought made her stomach curl.

“Oh, I’m not watching you. Don’t need to. But I do keep tabs. Have to say, I admire your dedication to understanding this beautiful craft.” His tone shifted, taking on an edge of intensity. “But you’re running out of time.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means my work here is almost finished. Pine Haven’s been... educational. But every performance needs a final act.” He paused. “I thought you should know your window of opportunity is closing.”

“Window for what?”

The man chuckled into the phone. “For whatever.” The playfulness was gone now, replaced by something colder. “Consider this a professional courtesy. One specialist to another.”

Jessie pressed against the brick wall of the bakery, her mind racing to process his words. “Why call at all? Why not just disappear?”

“Because you’ve earned this chance. More than earned it, really. But timing...” She heard him exhale slowly. “Timing is everything, isn’t it?” His words were drifting, his tone changing yet again. “It’s a shame. Cause this really is some prime hunting grounds.”

Something in his phrasing caught Jessie’s attention. Hunting ground. The word choice felt deliberate, almost theatrical.

“Is that how you see what you’re doing? A hunt?”

His response came with an unsettling shift in tone, from calculated to almost childlike. “Oh, don’t worry too much about semantics, Jessie. After all, one down, one to go.”

She pressed the phone tighter to her ear, noting the rapid changes in his speech patterns. His thoughts seemed to skip tracks, like a record player with a damaged needle. One moment clinical, the next almost playful. It wasn’t what she’d expected from someone capable of such methodical kills.

“So, who’s next?” she asked, trying to keep him engaged. “I get the feeling you see this as a game. So, tell me who you’re going after. Maybe we could-”

“Now, now,” he cut in, his voice hardening again. “That would spoil the surprise. Besides, you’re the investigator. And I’ve given you enough clues to figure it out.” A pause. “Though I should warn you - physics waits for no one. Once certain things are set in motion...”

“What things? And what clues are you talking about?”

“Be seeing you, Jessie.” The words carried a sing-song quality that made her skin crawl. “Sooner than you think.”

The line went dead.

Jessie stared at her phone, her mind already dissecting every word, every tonal shift. The killer’s personality hadn’t matched the precise, calculated nature of his crimes. The conversation had bounced between coherent threats and almost whimsical asides, which suggested an unstable mind.

Which was blowing much of her carefully constructed profile out of the water.

She quickly forwarded the recording to Alex, then dialed his number. Whatever game the killer was playing, his mention of “one to go” had just started a countdown.

“Jess? What’s going on?” Alex answered.

“I just sent you a recording of a conversation I had. With the killer.” She began walking to her Jeep, her steps quick and purposeful. The other end was quiet as she approached the Jeep and then Alex’s voice was back on the line.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed.

“Alex, it’s him. The details about Travis’s scar, the way he talked about the bindings...”

“Could be someone with access to the case files.”

“No.” She climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving the engine off. “This was different. The way he spoke - it wasn’t what I expected. His thoughts jumped around, almost manic at times. But then he’d snap back to this cold, clinical precision. And the way he spoke… it was definitely our guy.” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “The methodology of the murders suggests someone meticulously organized, but this conversation... it was all over the place.”

“And this has you thinking…?” Alex’s voice dropped lower.

“I think he’s decompensating. Fast. And he said he has one more target.” She heard shuffling papers in the background. “The way he talked about Pine Haven being a hunting ground-”

“Hold that thought.” Alex’s voice became muffled, and Jessie heard rapid conversation in the background. Her stomach tightened at the urgency in the voices she couldn’t quite make out.

“Alex?”

He came back on the line, his voice tight. “Everly Wilson just called in a missing person’s report. Thaddeus never came home from his morning squash game.”

Jessie’s hand flew to her phone screen, pulling up her call log. There it was - a missed call from Everly Wilson, probably while she was talking to the killer. “I’m heading to the Wilson estate now.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She ended the call, her mind already racing ahead to the Wilson estate. If their killer was truly decompensating, his final act would be his most dramatic. And something told her they were running out of time to stop it.

31

Everly opened the door before Jessie could knock. Gone was the perfectly coiffed socialite who seemed to float through life on a cloud of privilege. This Everly’s mascara left faint traces beneath her eyes, and her designer loungewear was wrinkled.

“I tried calling you,” she said, her voice carrying an edge Jessie hadn’t heard before.

“I know. I’m sorry - I was on another call.” Jessie followed her into the house, noting how Everly’s usual graceful movement had been replaced by something more brittle. “Tell me what happened.”

They moved through the foyer to the kitchen. Coffee cups littered the marble counter – Everly’s cell phone sitting next to them. Her hands shook slightly as she gripped the edge of the kitchen island.

There were footsteps echoing in the room behind them as Alex walked into the kitchen. He nodded at Jessie and turned to Everly. “Mrs. Wilson. What’s going on?” He took out his notebook and flipped it open.

Everly’s words came out in a rush. “My husband is like a clock. He has his routines, and he sticks to them. Even when he’s running late, no matter the reason, he lets us know. Always. But this time...” She gestured helplessly at her phone lying face-up on the counter. “Nothing. No call, no text. His car is still at the club, but no one there has seen him.”

Jessie watched as Everly tried to gather herself, to slip back into the polished veneer she usually wore. But the cracks were showing. Something in her eyes suggested this wasn’t just worry about a husband running late.

This was fear.

“When did you last see him?” Alex asked.

“Yesterday morning. When he left for the club. Early.”

Alex glanced up from his notes. “He’s been gone all day, and you didn’t think…” His voice trailed off when he saw the look on her face.

“I feel guilty enough,” she said. “I don’t need you adding to it.” She turned sightly to face Jessie. “I thought maybe he was…you know. With someone. But then, someone from his office called to ask if he was around. He missed an important business call he was supposed to be on early evening. That’s when I started to…worry. He’s never missed a business meeting. And then he also didn’t show up for dinner last night.”

Alex stepped away from them, taking out his phone. “I’m going to send a car over to the country club to ask some questions and take a look at his car.” He moved over to the sliding door and began to quietly speak to someone on the other end.

Jessie turned her attention to Everly. “Is there any reason he might have had to leave town? Other places he might-”

“Don’t.” Everly’s sharp tone cut through the air. “Don’t treat me like some hysterical wife. Granted, things might have been strained between us lately, but I know when something’s wrong. I can feel it.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Just like I felt it the night someone broke in.”

Jessie had a feeling the woman was right, but she had to be certain neither of them were jumping to conclusions. “What about your children? When was the last time they spoke with him?”

Everly’s expression shifted, confusion flooding her features. “I... I didn’t even think to ask them.” She moved quickly to the base of the stairs. “Tad! Gianna! Can you come down here for a moment?”

Footsteps shuffled overhead before both teenagers appeared at the top of the stairs. Gianna’s face clouded with immediate concern when she saw Jessie standing next to their mother.

“Has either of you heard from your father today?” Everly asked. Jessie could hear the forced calm in her tone.

Gianna frowned. “What do you mean? You told us he was working late in his office last night when he missed dinner.” She started down the stairs, her movements hesitant. “Isn’t he just... still working?”

“Well,” Everly’s composure slipped just a bit. “He isn’t here now, so I wondered if maybe he had reached out to you.”

Just then Alex walked into the foyer. “Alright, I have a deputy going too the club to check on -” he stopped when he saw the children’s eyes widen at him. He glanced to Jessie, unsure what to say.

Tad remained at the top of the stairs, his knuckles white where they gripped the banister. There was a slight tremor in his hands. The same nervous energy Jessie had seen in him during their encounter in the woods.

“Tad?” Jessie called up to him. “When’s the last time you spoke with your father?”

The boy’s face drained of color. “I... yesterday morning. Before his squash game.” His voice cracked slightly. “He always plays squash on Thursdays.”

Everly narrowed her eyes. “What? You’re never up that early unless school is involved. You actually saw your father?”

“You told me you hadn’t seen dad since the night before that, when he asked you for help with that stupid game the two of you are always playing online,” Gianna corrected, turning to look up at her brother.

Tad’s eyes darted between them, panic creeping into his expression. “No, it was... I mean, I thought...”

Jessie watched the interaction carefully, noting how the boy seemed to be unraveling. It wasn’t just the sudden worrying about his father. It was something deeper. Something that made him look like he might bolt at any minute given the chance.

“Tad,” Everly said, “what do you know? Do you know where your father is? Have you been talking to him?”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No. I swear. I don’t know anything.”

Everly eyed the boy, suspicion clouded her features. “If you know something…” Tad grew even more pensive under her gaze. “Go get me your phone. I want to see your messages.”

The boy could barely contain his anxiety at her words. “Mom, no. That’s an invasion of privacy.”

A blush of red inflamed Everly’s face. “Privacy? Tad, you do what I say, or you’ll never have privacy in this house again. Now, go get your phone.”

“I can’t!” He blurted out. The words sounded like an angry confession.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Everly questioned.

The boy drew in a shuttering breath and chewed at his bottom lip before answering. “My phone is gone. It’s missing.”

“What do you mean missing?” Everly said.

He hesitated before answering. “The night of the break-in, I was doing a big update to an app I use and…well, I left it in my room plugged in. When we came back, it was gone.”

Gianna’s eyes zeroed in on her brother. “What? You mean that some…stranger…a criminal, was in your room? Christ, what if he was in my room too?”

Tad rolled his eyes. “Oh, great, Gia, do what you always do and make everything about you. You’re so -”

Everly snapped a hand up, silencing them. “Tad. Why didn’t you tell us? Your father and I asked if anything was missing.”

The boy looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just figured, maybe it would show back up or something…” he mumbled.

Everly opened her mouth to yell at the boy but was interrupted by a series of dings. Jessie fished out her phone to see notifications from an unknown number. She opened the screen and froze, her eyes locked onto the text messages that popped up. “Alex. You need to see this.”

The first image the detective saw was Thaddeus Wilson. It was a close-up picture of the man, sitting in a chair with an intricately tied noose around his neck. But instead of the dull hint of rope, the noose was constructed from what appeared to be silver wiring. There were tears streaming down the man’s face as he stared helplessly into the camera.

The second photograph was of a suspension bridge stretched over a mountain gorge. It was artfully shot and framed in a way that made it look inviting.

There was a gasp that came from Everly. She was behind Jessie and Alex and had peered over their shoulders. One hand flew to cover her mouth as she took the horrifying scenes in.

“Mom, what is it?” Gianna asked as she took a tentative step towards them.

“Go to your room!” Everly cried. Her hands shaking. “Both of you!” Her voice filled with fear and hurt.

“What is it?” Tad asked.

“Now!” was the only response Everly gave. Both teenagers rushed for their rooms, slamming the doors after them.

The adults stared at Jessie’s phone as she opened one last message.

Told you. Great hunting grounds.

“What does this mean?” Everly asked, tears starting to flow down her cheeks. “Oh, my God. Is this… is this what happened to Travis Benton?” Realization crept onto her face. “Is someone going to kill Thaddeus next?”

Jessie turned to her quickly. “That’s not going to happen, Everly.” She grasped both of the woman’s shoulders in her hands, forcing her to focus. “Is there someplace you can go? A trusted friend? Someplace you feel safe with the kids?”

Slowly Everly shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t know. I mean…maybe the neighbors, or the Bentons…”

Jessie shook her head. “No. Until this is over, you need to be out of The Glades. I want you to go upstairs grab what you and the kids need and go to the Bed and Breakfast in town. I’m going to notify the owners you’re coming, and they’ll put you up for the night.” Everly was staring at her, eyes vacant. “Now, Everly!”

The woman nodded, shaken from her revere and rushed up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, Jessie turned to Alex.

“Jessie, we both know the danger that Thaddeus is in right now,” Alex said.

“Yes, we do. But right now, he’s still alive. And we’re going to save him.”

“We don’t even know where to start.”

Jessie was nodding as she moved towards the door, Alex falling in behind her. “This time is different. I know who the killer is. But the only problem is, he’s a ghost?”

Alex frowned. “What do you mean a ghost?”

She turned to face the detective. “I mean, he’s a ghost because I killed him.”

32

The world outside the Wilson home was muted as both Jessie and Alex made their way to the driveway, each ending their respective calls. Alex’s face tight with concern as he pocketed his phone. “Officer Martinez is heading over,” he said. “She’ll escort the family to town.”

Jessie nodded, still staring at her own phone screen. “Just got off with Mark. He and Eric will take care of them, keep them isolated from the other guests.” She looked up at Alex. “And they understand the need for discretion.” She hated having to involve the pair, but desperate times called for equally desperate measures.

They reached their vehicles, but neither made a move to leave.

“Alright,” Alex said finally, turning to face her. “You want to tell me what you meant back there? About a ghost and a killing?”

Jessie leaned against her Jeep. She felt her shoulders sag under the weight of long kept secrets. “It’s classified. And it’s complicated.”

“A man’s life is at stake. Uncomplicate it. Plus, from what I know, the military already tried to ruin your life. What more can they do?”

She let her head fall backwards as she looked up at the sky. “I’m tired, Alex. Tired of everything bad that happened to me in another life somehow showing up to try and fuck my new life up as well.” She took a breath and looked him in the eyes. “In my role with the military, one of the things I was charged with investigating was war crimes. More specifically, Grave Breaches of the Geneva Convention, which were considered the worst of the worst. They typically involve willful killing, torture, inhumane treatment, or causing great suffering to protected persons – such as civilians.

“While I won’t say the country, I was called to investigate reports of a splinter group of soldiers that was charged with securing a very volatile section of the border between two warring factions. Well, this team secured the border and established a foothold there. But then, some disturbing reports started to trickle in. Reports of a group of American soldiers committing acts of torture and extreme abuse to villagers in order to maintain their compliance.

“That’s where I came in. To investigate these reports and interview some of the villagers.” She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to fend off the ghosts of horrors past. When she finally opened them, they burned with painful memories. “The things these villagers said were done to them…you can’t imagine. It took some doing, but I finally got one of the soldiers to crack. He said he didn’t believe in what the other were doing but was too afraid to not go along with it. He confirmed what the villagers said, and told me about a bridge, not far away in the mountains. He said the soldiers called it the Flying Bridge. A suspension bridge that straddled a ravine.

“According to this soldier -” she hesitated, drawing in a breath for strength – “This is where they would take anyone who spoke out against them, and make an example of them. They would place a noose made from hemp interwoven with piano wire around the victim’s neck, secure the other end to one of the sections or rope in the middle of the bridge, and throw the victim off. When the rope pulled taut, the weight of the victim’s body would cause… it would decapitate them. The sudden snap would make the suspension bridge sway. Hence the nickname The Flying Bridge.”

Alex took an involuntary step back, his face draining of color. “Jesus Christ, Jessie.”

“That was pretty much my reaction too.” She pushed off from the Jeep, needing to move. “The leader of this group was Taylor Baines. Special Forces turned monster. When we went to apprehend him...” Her voice trailed off.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t come quietly. A firefight ensued. He killed one of the MPs that was with us.” Her hand unconsciously moved to her side, her fingers strumming against her thigh. “I had to make a choice. Him or more dead bodies.” She met Alex’s eyes. “I wasn’t about to allow anyone else to die at his hands.”

Alex was nodding. “I can’t imagine what was going through your mind. But you know you did the right thing.”

There was a glint in her eyes when she responded. Oh, I know I did. Three rounds center mass. Watched him fall into that same ravine where he’d disposed of so many others.” She started pacing. “But seeing that photo of Thaddeus, with that wire-threaded noose... it’s the same signature. The same method.”

Alex frowned, processing. “Any chance he could have survived? Could be one of Baines’ men. Someone who served with him?”

“No.” Jessie shook her head firmly. “Baines wasn’t wearing a vest. No way he survived those shots, let alone the one-hundred-fifty-foot drop to the rocks below. Every surviving member of that unit is still in Leavenworth.” She stopped pacing. “This is someone who knew about the Flying Bridge. Maybe someone who learned the technique from Baines. Someone I missed in the investigation maybe.” Her tone told Alex she didn’t really believe that, but there were very few other possibilities at the moment.

“So, as if murder isn’t bad enough, looks like someone is making this personal for you as well,” Alex said.

Jessie stared at him, a rare moment of vulnerability passing between them. “Thank you, Alex.”

The detective seemed confused for a moment. “For what?”

“For not making me feel like…oh, here we go again. Some horror from your past is taking out on the innocents.” She looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

“Never. You’re a good person. The fact that you’ve made some enemies just goes to prove that.” There was no wavering in his answer, no chance of misinterpretation in his tone. “But now, we need to figure out how to catch the asshole doing this. Maybe we can trace where the call to you and those texts originated. Could be a start.”

Jessie nodded, solemnly. “Maybe. But that would take time. Time that I’m not so sure Thaddeus has. I think this guy is challenging us. Daring us to catch him before he can complete his next kill. And if he was telling the truth, Thaddeus will be his last. After that, I believe he’ll bolt.”

“So, what’s the plan.”

“Whoever he is, he deliberately singled me out with details from my past. Stands to reason he’s recreating…something. Are there any suspension bridges near Pine Haven?”

Alex thought for a moment. “Yeah, now that you mention it. There are a couple. Most of them have been closed down because they’re dangerous. The ones that aren’t are part of the nature preserves and state parks.”

Jessie was heading towards her Jeep. “I’ll meet you at the station. Start pulling the maps of where they are.”

“Where are you going?” Alex called after her.

“I’m going to run home and get Blizzard. I’ll drop him off at the bed and breakfast as a little extra security for Mark and Eric.”

“Good idea. I’ll wait here until the family’s escort arrives. I’ll have those maps ready by the time you get back to my office.”

The detective’s form shrank in the rear-view mirror as Jessie pulled away. She glanced at her watch. The clock was ticking. Catching this killer was a priority but so was saving Thaddeus’ life. She fought the red flag that popped up in the back of her mind, and the voice that was whispering along with it.

The one that said it just might be too late for this maniac’s third victim.

33

Alex’s office looked different. The chaos of scattered paperwork that had dominated his desk for weeks had vanished, leaving a clean surface where a large topographical map now lay spread out. Jessie studied the transformation, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

“Mark and Eric all set?” Alex asked, uncapping a marker.

“Yeah. Officer Martinez is staying on site too. Said she’d keep watch over the bed and breakfast. As long as you approved, that is.”

“She radioed shortly after you left, and I told her I was fine with it.” He bent over the map and began drawing circles at various points.

Jessie’s eyes drifted to Alex’s filing cabinets. The drawers were slightly ajar, papers threatening to escape their confines. She bit back a smile.

“Don’t look in there,” Alex said without looking up, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “Sometimes cleanup is just... strategic relocation. I’ll tackle it when we finish with this bit of business at hand.”

“Hey, whatever works for you-”

“Three suspension bridges within sixty miles,” he cut in, tapping the map. “Stillwater Bridge in the state park - that one’s still active. Turner’s Crossing near the old mining operation - officially closed but locals still use it. And Cedar Gap Bridge - shutdown completely after structural concerns.”

Jessie leaned over the map, studying the locations. “Cedar Gap’s the closest.”

“And the most isolated.” Alex traced the access road with his finger. “Parks Department condemned it five years ago. Gate’s supposed to be locked, but...”

“Why was it closed off?” Jessie studied the topographical lines surrounding the marker.

“Cable corrosion at the anchor points. Parks Department found severe deterioration where the main cables enter the concrete foundations.” Alex leaned back in his chair. “The steel strands inside start rusting from the inside out. You can’t see how bad it is until it’s almost too late.”

“How dangerous are we talking?”

“The cables are the only thing holding up the entire bridge deck. Once they start failing at the anchor points...” He made a dropping gesture with his hand. “The whole thing could give way without warning. That’s why they didn’t even try to repair it. Too risky to even have workers up there.”

“How high is it? What runs underneath?”

Alex studied the map. “Maybe fifty feet off the ground if that. The bridge spans a shallow river, but this time of year it would be little more than a dried-up bed of rocks mostly.”

Jessie straightened slowly, something clicking in her mind. “The perfect place for our killer to commit a crime like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“So far, our killer has needed time and privacy to do what he does. He’s hinted that he’s watching me, so my bet is he probably knows it’s too risky to kill Thaddeus in his home now. He’s going to need somewhere that will guarantee him some privacy. Where a victim could scream as loud as they want and not be heard. Plus, if he is at one of these bridges, it will make it even more difficult for authorities to retrieve a body when he’s finished. By the time that could happen…”

“The killer could be two states away,” Alex finished. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the map. “While it makes sense that he might pick one of these, especially given the picture he sent you, we can’t be certain it’s this one. I’ll see if I can reach Todd Walker. He’s still acting chief until the new one arrives later this week from DC. I’ll get him to authorize a couple of deputies to check out each of the other locations. You and I can take Cedar’s Gap.”

Jessie sighed. “We both know he’s going to tell you to do whatever you think is best. Why not just cut out the middleman?” She did not bother to hide the annoyance in her voice.

Alex was leading them out of his office. “It’s called covering your ass. It will literally take a couple minutes, and we can be on our way.”

As he passed through the main department, he pointed to four on duty officers and asked them to follow him to the chief’s office. Jessie watched as they disappeared, noting that the majority of the Pine Haven Police Department would be utilized to complete the task. All that was left were a couple of junior recruits and the secretary. She was about to point it out to alex when he rounded the corner, the other officers in tow.

“You were right,” he said. “Walker said do what we have to.”

“It leaves the department stretched thin,” Jessie pointed out.

Alex looked around, running calculations in his head. “I’ll radio Martinez on the way and pull her back to the station until this is over.”

Jessie ran the play through her head. She didn’t like leaving Mark and Eric with only Blizzard as protection, but she knew it was the only option they had at the moment. She nodded, and they filed out of the station.

Outside, Alex ran through a set of instructions with the team, and they broke off to their squad cars, heading in opposite directions. He climbed behind the wheel of his SUV and Jessie slid into the passenger seat.

“How far to the bridge?” Jessie asked.

“About thirty minutes,” Alex replied.

“See if you can make it twenty.” She buckled her seatbelt. “Something tells me Thaddeus Wilson doesn’t have a lot of time left.”

34

Jessie and Alex made their way up the overgrown trail, the dense forest around them had become little more than a shadowy suggestion of trees.

“Parks Department closed this whole section five years ago,” Alex said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Too many rockslides. The cliffs here are mostly shale - keeps breaking off in sheets.”

As if to emphasize his point, loose stones clattered down the slope to their right. Jessie’s hand instinctively moved to shield her head. “So, no chance of tourists up here? Nice and remote but still not far from town.”

Alex nodded, understanding that the locale was looking more and more like it was the perfect location for someone to commit a crime that required time and isolation.

They rounded a bend in the trail, and the first tower of Cedar Gap Bridge came into sight. Weathered concrete rose high above them with steel cables that disappeared into the mist that filled the gorge below. Warning signs hung from the chain-link fence meant to prevent access: DANGER - UNSTABLE STRUCTURE. NO TRESPASSING.

The fence had been cut, the edges of the metal clean and precise.

“Recent.” Jessie stated, examining the cut.

“Could be kids or tourists sneaking up here. I’ve seen posts on social media of them being tagged in areas they shouldn’t be in. Apparently, it’s a thing up here.”

Jessie nodded skeptically and pointed to fresh scuff marks in the gravel. “I guess they were also dragging something heavy through here as well.”

Alex nodded, slipping a hand to unfasten the strap that holstered his weapon.

The bridge’s skeletal structure stretched across the ravine. Mountain shadows danced across the wooden planks, creating a dizzying pattern of light and dark that made it difficult to judge which boards might still be solid. The walkway extended nearly two hundred feet to the opposite cliff face, its weathered boards warped and split from years of exposure. Above them, the main cables showed clear signs of corrosion, their once-silver surface mottled with rust and decay where they disappeared into the concrete anchor points.

Steel support cables, some snapped and swaying in the morning breeze, dangled from the underside of the walking planks. Others remained taut, but their mounting points had begun to pull away from the main structure, leaving gaps where water and time had done their damage.

Jessie crouched down, examining some of the rotted boards up close. “This does not look safe at all.”

Alex nodded. “This thing hasn’t been maintained in years. It really should be torn down.”

“Why hasn’t it been.”

The detective shrugged. “Funding. Why else?”

Jessie stood and raised a hand to shade her eyes, as she studied the narrow bridge. “Are there any structures or a place where he could be hiding on the other side? If he was here with -” she stopped, her body going rigid.

“What is it?” Instantly, Alex was on alert.

She raised an arm, pointing. “What is that? Halfway mark on the bridge?”

The shape was dark against the weathered wood of the bridge, maybe twenty yards out. At first it looked like abandoned equipment, a large maintenance pack someone might have left behind.

But then it moved.

A slight wiggle. A desperate shift against the wooden planks.

“Thaddeus?” Jessie called out. Her voice echoed across the ravine, bouncing back distorted and hollow.

A muffled sound carried back to them, barely audible over the whisper of wind through the cables. The shape convulsed again, more violently this time.

“Someone’s out there,” Alex said, already reaching for his radio. “And they’re restrained.”

Jessie studied the bridge’s structure, noting how the support cables swayed with even the lightest breeze. The wooden planks - what she could see of them - showed clear signs of rot.

“This bridge won’t hold both of us,” she said quietly.

Alex’s head snapped toward her. “Jessie, no. We wait for backup. And someone with the equipment to go out there.”

“How long before they get here? Ten minutes? Twenty? How do we know that whoever is out there hasn’t been bound the same way Travis Benton was? Do you think they can wait until help arrives?”

“Wait,” Alex said, digging into his pocket. He took out a folding knife and handed it to her. “The whole structure could give way. Be fast.”

She was already moving toward the first plank. “Stay here. Keep your radio ready. Just in case -”

His voice was tight with worry. “Just... be careful where you step. And Jessie?” She turned back to him. “Watch the cables. If they start to sing- the metal’s about to fail.”

She nodded and took her first step onto the bridge. The wood creaked beneath her boot, the sound amplified by the empty space below. Another step. Then another. She kept her movements slow, deliberate, testing each board before committing her weight.

The shape was clearer now. Definitely human in size.

A gust of wind set the bridge swaying slightly. Above her, one of the cables gave off a soft, almost musical tone.

Ten yards to go. The bound figure twisted again, more urgently now.

As Jessie drew closer, the muffled sounds became more desperate. She could see that whoever it was, they were locked in a sack of some kind. It writhed against the wooden planks, causing the bridge to creak ominously. “Stay still,” she called softly. “I’m here to help, but you need to stay still.”

The bag was military-grade, black canvas, the kind used for equipment drops. A drawstring closure pulled tight around what she assumed was the victim’s neck. A dark hood covered their head, making identification impossible.

Jessie crouched carefully, distributing her weight across two of the more solid-looking planks. “I’m going to remove the hood first. Try to remain calm.”

A muted whimper came from inside the covering. As Jessie’s fingers found the edge of the hood, she noticed something that made her blood run cold - a thin metallic gleam at the neckline.

Even though her own heart was racing, she kept her voice calm. “It’s okay. Just stay very still for me.” Her eyes traced the silver wire from beneath the hood to where it snaked down the backside of the body bag, disappearing under one of the planks beneath them. “Thaddeus, I’m going to remove the hood slowly and I want you to hold perfectly still. No matter what, don’t move.”

She lifted the hood slowly, and her breath caught in her throat. Julia’s terrified eyes stared back at her, wet with tears and wide with panic. A black cloth had been shoved into her mouth, secured with what looked like medical tape.

“Julia?” The name came out barely above a whisper. “Don’t move. I’m going to remove the tape.” She carefully and slowly pulled the medical tape aside and removed the cloth from the waitress’s mouth.

Terror filled the woman’s eyes as she drew in a sharp breath. “He’s over there! Look out!” She yanked her head in the direction on the opposite side of the bridge from where Alex was standing.

Jessie looked up in time to see a figure step out from the covering of a large pine tree. He raised a hand, seeming to show something to Jessie that she couldn’t make out. She saw movement and could just make out his thumb depressing something on the object he held.

There was a loud popping sound that came from below them on the bridge, and two of the planks Julia was sitting on snapped. The woman didn’t have time to scream as he body dropped through the opening, the wire around her neck suddenly snapping taut.

Jessie froze in place. She knew the image of Julia’s stunned, frightened face as she dropped out of sight was not something that would ever leave her mind. She felt the bridge lurch and sway as the weight of Julia’s body overcame the suspensions inertia. There was a single, heart wrenching snaping sound that echoed from below, followed by the dull thud of the body.

And then, the bridge itself began to moan. And then, all around her, Jessie heard a cable begin to sing.

35

The singing of the cable and the first, violent shudder of the bridge pierced through Jessie’s shock, burning away the image of Julia’s last, horrific moments.

“Jessie! Run!” Alex’s voice carried over the growing chorus of metal under stress.

Her legs responded without conscious thought. The bridge swayed beneath her feet as she spun toward Alex. Each step was a gamble between rotted wood and empty air. Somewhere above her, another cable joined the deadly symphony.

“Move! Now!” Alex had edged onto the first few planks, one arm outstretched, the other firmly gripping one of the support posts anchoring the start of the bridge.

The bridge lurched sideways. Jessie stumbled, her hand catching a support wire. The steel bit into her palm as another plank gave way behind her, the sound of splintering wood echoing across the gorge.

She commanded herself not to look down as she stumbled forward. Just focus on Alex.

Eight yards to safety. Seven.

A deep groan resonated through the entire structure. The main cable - the one that had held Julia’s weight for that final, terrible moment - snapped free from its anchor point. The sound was like a gunshot.

Six yards. Five.

The walkway tilted sharply. Jessie’s boots scrambled for purchase on wood that was no longer level. Four yards seemed like forty as the distance between her and Alex stretched like a nightmare.

“Jump!” Alex’s command cut through the cacophony of failing metal and breaking wood.

The bridge dropped another foot. No more time for careful steps. Jessie gathered herself and launched forward just as the final support gave way.

For one endless moment, she felt herself suspended in empty air, the gorge yawning beneath her. Alex’s hand impossibly far away.

Their fingers connected. His grip locked around her wrist like iron as the bridge fell away beneath her feet. Pain shot through her shoulder as Alex’s other hand grabbed her jacket, hauling her up onto solid ground.

They rolled clear of the edge together as the last of Cedar Gap Bridge disappeared into the ravine. The crash of metal and wood against rock was deafening.

Jessie lay on her back, gasping, the metallic taste of fear in her mouth mingled with the copper of adrenalin. She rolled over and sat up, her eyes scanning the tree line on the other side of the collapsed bridge. “Alex, he was there. He was standing right there. He had something…I don’t know what…that triggered the planks to -” Her voice was strained, and she froze in place as her vison drifted to the carnage beneath them. “Oh no…she’s gone. I had her…and now…she’s gone.”

Alex was breathing hard. “She? Who are you talking about?”

Jessie stared at him. “The person on the bridge. It wasn’t Thaddeus. It was Julia – the waitress from Angela’s bakery.”

Alex stared at her, then followed her eyes to the twisted mass that was still settling below them.

“Why?” Jessie’s said, her tone deflated and barely audible. “Why kill Julia? How is she possibly connected to any of this?”

Alex was up and help Jessie to her feet. Her heart was racing, and she felt light headed as the realization of how close she had just come to joining Julia hit her. She looked over that detective. “Did you see him?”

“No. But, I could barely make out what you were doing out there.” He glanced across the space where the bridge had once stood. “From here, I can’t make out what’s shadow and what’s tree and rock.” Concern washed over his face as he looked at Jessie. “You need to sit. We need to get you some water.”

She shook her head, waving him off. “No. We need to get back to town and figure out where we go from here.”

Alex let out a breath and nodded. “I’ll call it in. Let the parks department know and they’ll take it from here. Who knows how long it will take to recover the body. I’ll also radio the rest of the officers and tell them no need to search the other bridges.”

Jessie nodded, gasping in oxygen to try and steady her racing heart. Together, they turned and headed back towards the car. Jessie stopped, freezing in place.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

“When I saw him, I couldn’t make out his face…or any features, really. But something about the way he held himself. The way he moved. It was familiar, Alex.” She looked over at him, eyes wide. “Alex, whatever happened to the guy Julia was seeing…what was his name?”

The detective thought for a moment. “Larry?”

Jessie’s eyes lit up. “Yes. that was it. Do we know where he is?”

Alex shook his head. “I’ll have to check with the station. When we were at the Gray Eagle, he was turned over to the officers on site. We can follow up once we’re back at headquarters.”

Jessie took one look back over her shoulder as they walked away. She could hear Alex on the phone, speaking rapidly.

She didn’t tell Alex what was really on her mind. It was bad enough that this madman had killed Julia, but what Jessie suspected was even worse. The poor waitress had been nothing more than a pawn.

No.

Worse than that. She had been used as bait for his true target.

And Jessie had fallen for it.

36

When Jessie walked in, the table in the break room had been cleared, and a large map of the area surrounding Cedar Gap had been splayed across it. Officers milled around it, awaiting instructions, and Alex stood over a young policeman who was sitting at the head of the table with his laptop.

“What do you mean he was released?” Alex said, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

“Standard procedure, sir.” The young officer’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “When we ran his record after the incident at the Gray Eagle, Larry Burns came back clean. No warrants, no flags.” He turned the laptop so Alex could see the screen. “He stated he had reached an agreement earlier with his ex-wife and agreed to drop further proceedings. Something about reaching a payment agreement.”

Alex planted his hands on the table next to the laptop, leaning forward. “So, we just let him walk?”

To Jessie, the officer looked like he was seconds from breaking into a full-blown sweat. “I mean, we didn’t have any reason to hold him. Not that I was aware of. We treated him like any other person being booked.”

Alex stood, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “No – it’s okay. Honestly. I mean you’re right. We had no reason to treat him differently. But do me a favor, see if you can… I don’t know, find something on his whereabouts.”

Jessie turned to the young officer. “What about employment history? Previous addresses? Maybe there’s something from his past that can give us a clue as to where he might be.”

The officer shook his head. “That’s the thing - records only go back about three years. Before that...” He gestured at the screen helplessly. “It’s like he didn’t exist.”

“Because he probably didn’t,” Jessie said quietly. “At least not as Larry Burns.” She leaned in, examining the driver’s license photo. Something about his eyes - the way they seemed to look through the camera rather than at it. “This ID could be professionally crafted. Good enough to pass standard checks.”

Alex grunted, running a hand through his hair. “So, he’s a ghost.”

“Maybe not,” said Jessie. “Remember what Julia told us about him? He was in town as a boat mechanic.”

Alex gave her an appreciative look, nodding in agreement. “There are a lot of boats in dry dock still, being prepped for the summer. Of course, that could just have been a story that he fed Julia.”

“From what I’ve found, there’s a bit of truth in every lie,” Jessie said. “Julia said he was working on the boat belonging to someone that didn’t allow visitors, so she never saw it.” Her mind flashed to Julia’s terrified face on the bridge. The precise way the trap had been set. The military-grade equipment bag. “Someone that methodical, that organized - he wouldn’t abandon his base of operations just because we had him in custody for a few hours.”

Alex nodded. “Makes sense. Especially if he were trying to lay low. But there are a lot of boats in town. Even more if we count the neighboring harbors and lakes.” He turned to the young officer who had been watching the interplay between them. “I want you to start going through the harbor lists for any marina within a fifty-mile radius. Any boat that is having renovations or major repairs, I want you to personally speak with the owner and find out who’s doing those repairs. I want every dock, every mooring point checked. Start with private slips - places where someone could come and go without drawing attention. And print out pictures of Larry from the booking photos. Spread them all over town. I don’t want this bastard having any place to go to ground.”

The man hesitated, his eyes travelling back and forth.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

“Well, sir…it’s just that…what if he didn’t do anything?” The man glanced carefully at Jessie. “Sorry, ma’am. No offense. But we are about to start a manhunt looking for someone that might just be innocent.”

“You’re right,” said Jessie, though her tone told him she didn’t agree. “But think about it this way. He’s a person of interest. One that we don’t want slipping out of town. And if worse comes to worse, we just need to let him know that his girlfriend was the victim of a horrific murder. Letting him know is the least we could do.”

The officer swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am. Of course.” He turned back to his computer, his fingers quickly dancing across the keyboard.

Alex turned to the rest of the room. “As for everyone else, I want you working with the National Parks Department to help search the areas around Cedar Gap. We still have a missing person out there. The chief has authorized any OT needed with this, so let’s do what wee can to make sure we don’t have another death that could be prevented.” A murmur went through the assembled officers as they filed out of the break room.

Jessie turned to Alex. “That’s way too much ground to cover for the few officers you have available.”

Alex sighed in agreement. “We aren’t made for this kind of manhunt.”

“I was thinking about that. Whoever this killer is, be it Larry – or someone else – they are a professional. They have to know after that last stunt that we are going to throw everything we have at catching them. Why not just disappear? Why wasn’t Travis the one on the bridge? I feel like we’re missing something.”

The buzzing of her phone was the only answer she received. She looked down, frowning. Unknown number. She shared a look with Alex before answering on speaker.

“Well, that was exciting.” The voice was playful once again. “I almost got you.”

Jessie’s hand trembled as she held the phone. Anger began to flood her, and she fought to control the tremor in her voice. “Why did you kill Julia? She had nothing to do with this.”

“Everyone has everything to do with everything,” his voice came back.

“You lied. You said you had one to go and then you were out of here.”

He laughed, cold and hard. “You’re right. I did say I have one to go before I’m done. I just didn’t specify which one.”

Alex leaned in, his voice a little more than a growl. “We’re going to get you, you son-of-a-bitch. We know who you are.”

“Ooh. I’m shaking, Alex.” He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, his voice had changed. The playful edge had passed. “Don’t think you get a second chance. You weren’t on my list, but I’m starting to rethink that.” His tone was deep and guttural. “And as far as who I am? You don’t know shit.”

The line went dead, and Jessie angrily shoved the phone back in her pocket. “This bastard is playing with us.” Her phone pinged once and she retrieved it, swiping open the screen.

A picture of a terrified Thaddeus Wilson appeared. It was a close up, focusing only on his face. The message that accompanied it was simple.

Tick tock.

37

Ametallic clang echoed through the kitchen as Mark slammed the over door with more force than usual. “If I have to remake these scones one more time because they’re not ‘authentically British enough,’ I swear to God...”

Eric looked up from the reservation book he was updating, a hint of amusement crossing his features. “They’re scared, honey. People can get very particular when they’re scared.”

“Particular?” Mark yanked off his apron. “Everly Wilson just asked me if we could source fresh-pressed almond milk from a specific farm in Vermont. Vermont, Eric.” He collapsed onto a kitchen stool. “We’re running a bed and breakfast, not a witness protection program.”

The sound of footsteps overhead made them both glance up at the ceiling. The Wilson children had been pacing the floors all morning, their nervous energy radiating through the entire house.

“At least Blizzard’s keeping them calm,” Eric offered. “Did you see Tad actually smile when the furball rolled over for belly rubs?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, heartwarming. And why did you agree to let them bring their dog as well? This house wasn’t made for a dog. Let alone two of them.”

Eric smiled at his husband. “What was I supposed to do? Tell Jessie the humans were welcome, but not their pet?”

Mark sighed heavily. “You’re right. But at this point I think I’d rather the dog stay, and they can go.” He ran his hands through his flour-dusted hair. “I’m telling you, if a stranger knocks on that door asking about the Wilsons, I’m giving them directions straight to their room.”

“No, you’re not.” Eric closed the reservation book. “Because you’re a better person than that. And because Jessie trusted us to keep an eye on them.”

Mark huffed. “Well, you be sure and tell her that if watching over them gets us killed I’m haunting her forever.” A timer dinged and he stood with exaggerated weariness. Making his way to the second oven he pulled out another batch of scones. “Though I have to admit, watching Officer Martinez try to maintain her professional demeanor while Everly critiqued the thread count of the guest room sheets was pretty entertaining.”

“See? Silver linings.” Eric moved to help with the baking, his shoulder brushing against Mark’s in silent support. “Besides, think of the review we’ll get when this is all over.”

“If we survive that long.” Mark’s attempt at humor fell flat as the weight of their situation settled back over the kitchen. Somewhere upstairs, a door slammed, followed by muffled voices.

Eric squeezed his husband’s shoulder. “We will. And so will they.”

“Just stop it, Gia!” Tad’s voice preceded the teenagers into the kitchen. “Leave me alone!”

A commotion outside of the kitchen caught their attention and both men looked up.

“No! You know something.” Gianna followed close behind, her face flushed with frustration. “Mom is right. You’ve been acting weird ever since Dad disappeared, and I want to know why!”

Mark and Eric exchanged worried glances as the siblings burst in. Tad’s hands were shaking, his breathing shallow and quick.

“I said drop it!” But the force had left his voice, replaced by something closer to panic.

“Hey, what’s going on? Both of you need to calm-” Eric started, but Gianna cut him off.

“Don’t you speak to me like that,” she said to the larger man before turning her attention back to her brother. “You’re hiding something! What did you do?” She grabbed her brother’s arm. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Tad jerked away from her grip, stumbling backward until his legs hit one of the kitchen chairs. He collapsed into it, his chest heaving with rapid, irregular breaths. His face had gone chalk white.

“Oh God,” he gasped. “Oh God, oh God...”

Mark moved quickly, crouching beside the boy. “Tad, listen to me. Focus on my voice.” He kept his tone calm but firm as he placed his palm on the young man’s chest. “You’re having a panic attack. I need you to slow down your breathing. We’re going to breathe together, okay?”

Tad’s eyes were wide with terror, his fingers clutching the chair arms.

“Eric,” Mark said without looking up. “Get him some water. Gianna, go get your mother.”

“But-”

“Now, Gianna.” Mark’s voice left no room for argument. He placed a steady hand on Tad’s shoulder. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it. Just like that. Do it with me.” He demonstrated the breathing pattern, maintaining eye contact with the terrified teenager. “You’re safe here. I promise you. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

Eric returned with the water just as Everly rushed in, Gianna close behind. “What’s happening? Tad?”

“Mom-” Tad’s voice cracked. He accepted the water with trembling hands, took a small sip. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. “I did something. Something really bad.”

The kitchen fell silent except for Tad’s ragged breathing. Mark stayed beside him, one hand still on his shoulder, while Eric moved to block the doorway - whether to keep others out or keep them all in, he wasn’t sure.

“I have to tell you,” Tad whispered, looking up at his mother with red-rimmed eyes. “I have to tell you what I did.”

38

“Ican’t believe she’s dead.” Angela dropped onto one of the chairs at a table she had been clearing.

The lunch rush at the cafe was just ending as Jessie and Alex walked into the bakery. Angela had picked up on the tension they brought into the room immediately.

“It was definitely unusual for her not to show up to her shift this morning, but I guess I didn’t really think too much about it. I planned to check in on her after the noon rush…” Angela said in a hushed tone.

“Angela, I am so sorry we had to deliver this news. But did she ever mention where Larry was staying?” Jessie kept her voice low, watching Angela’s hands trembling as she folded and unfolded her apron corner. “Anything about a boat, maybe?”

“She was so private about him.” Angela shook her head, her eyes distant. “Sometimes she’d mention meeting him by the lake, but... God, I should have asked more questions. Should have noticed something was wrong.”

Alex leaned against the counter. “What about his work? Did she ever talk about specific boats he worked on?”

Angela shook her head. “Never. Only that it was for some guy who was really particular about privacy.” Angela’s voice cracked. “She thought it was romantic, you know? Like he was some mysterious handyman who’d swept her off her feet.”

Jessie exchanged a look with Alex. The crafted persona, the carefully maintained distance - it all fit the profile of someone who was used to manipulating people to achieve their end. Angela had just been one of the killer’s pawns, of that Jessie was certain.

“I keep thinking about yesterday morning,” Angela continued. “She was different. Distracted. Said Larry had been acting strange ever since some misunderstanding at the Gray Eagle but wouldn’t explain what she meant.”

Jessie frowned at the older woman. “She was still seeing him?”

Angela nodded. “Yeah, I knew they had a row about something, but they made up. She fell hard for that man.”

Jessie glanced at Alex before turning her attention back to the bakery owner. “Angela, we think that Larry might have been involved in her death. We can’t say more until we know for sure, but…if you think of anything, you call us. Anything at all, no matter how small.”

Angela looked up, her watery eyes trying to focus on them. “I will.” Her voice sounded small as Jessie stood and headed from the door with Alex. Her phone buzzed against her hip, and she pulled it out, relieved to see the name that popped up on the screen.

“Will. What have you found out?”

“Okay. I’ve dug about as deep as I can into this LLC. I have bad news and good news. The bad is that I still haven’t found the name of the person that seems to be behind this company and the creation of the pharmaceutical arm. The good news is, I’ve found out a lot more about what else they have been up to. I gotta say, it’s all above board from a legal standpoint. Basically, they were created as a holding company for land rights. You know that. But the amount of properties is far more extensive than I thought. It’s not just land rights. They are also buying up air rights, here and out of state, as well as marina and-”

“Whoa, back up,” Jessie interrupted. “What marina rights?”

There was a ruffling of papers. “They own the docks in and around Pine Haven. They’re making a fortune charging the boat owners rental agreements. So, there’s that. But, while I couldn’t find the person behind their pharmaceutical arm, I did find something very interesting. Apparently, moving into government contracts came with a lot of requirements. One being they had to hire someone with both medical and military experience. Someone who understood both the technical and security aspects of medical trials.

“And here’s where it gets interesting. Of the names that were on the short list of candidates with military experience that are now available for hire as private citizens…you were one of them.”

“What?” she couldn’t hide the shock in her voice.

“Apparently, you fit the profile of someone they coveted. The contract with the VA systems was potentially very lucrative to them. Like it would have vaulted them into another stratosphere of earnings from where they are. The VA was interested in mass production of something called XR-572. The LLC was already looking for someplace to build a lab to produce it before they could begin clinical trials. And that’s where this consultant would come in to lead up the expansion.”

Jessie felt a chill moving up her spine. “Will, how many names were you able to get from that list?”

“Counting you, five. A biologist, a biochemist, and a couple of doctors that had left the military and are now active civilians.”

The phone beeped in her ear, and she pulled the screen away to see another call trying to connect. She sent it to voicemail before returning to her conversation. “Will, can you dig into those names? See if any of them have ties to someone named Larry Burns. And that is most likely an alias, but you never know…we might get lucky. Also-” the phone beeped once again and this time it was a text message. She looked at it, eyes widening. “Will, I have to go. But send the names of those other candidates to me and Alex right away. I owe you.”

She hung up the call and hurried to Alex’s side.

“What’s up? Will come through for you?”

She rushed past the detective, pushing open the door. “I’ll tell you on the way to the bed and breakfast. We’re taking your car.”

Alex moved quickly to catch up to her. “Why are we heading over there?”

She reached his cruiser and headed for the passenger side. “Just got a text from Mark. He said for us to get over there 911.”

She buckled herself in as Alex floored it, lights and siren blazing.

39

Jessie burst through the B&B’s back door with Alex close behind. The kitchen felt stifling, and for once it wasn’t from the industrial ovens that Mark typically used. He and Eric stood near the stove, their usual easy manner replaced by rigid postures. Everly sat at the large farmhouse table, one hand resting on Tad’s shoulder. The boy’s face was pale and tear streaked.

“What happened?” Jessie asked, scanning the room. “Mark’s text said-”

“My brother’s a liar is what happened.” Gianna’s voice cut through the air from where she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed tight against her chest. Her eyes spit venom at her brother. “He’s been lying to all of us.”

“Gianna.” Everly’s tone carried a sharp warning. “Go upstairs. Now.”

The teenager dropped her arms loudly to her side. “Why? What more can he say that hasn’t -”

“Now.” Was the only reply Everly gave.

Gianna pushed off from the doorframe, her movements tight with anger. She paused at the threshold, looking back at her brother. “I trusted you,” she whispered, then disappeared up the stairs.

Tad’s shoulders began to shake under his mother’s hand. His head dropped and his sobs echoed in the large space.

“Tad,” Everly said softly. “Tell them what you told us.” She looked up at Jessie and then back at her son. “I trust Jessie. And you can as well.”

The boy lifted his head, and Jessie saw regret and terror in his eyes. Not the fear of punishment or consequences, but something far worse. “I...” His voice cracked. “I just wanted to help Ashley.”

“Ashley?” Jessie said. “You mean Ashley Benton? Travis’ daughter? What does she have to do with this?”

Everly caressed her son’s shoulder gently, urging him to continue.

“I’ve had a crush on Ashley for a couple of summers, but she never really knew I existed. And no matter what I did, that never seemed to change. But I made a vow to myself. This summer would be the summer she noticed me. I just needed to find a way in, a way to be seen.” He looked up at his mother with watery eyes. She smiled and nodded for him to continue.

“I saw what he did to them – Mr. Benton I mean -.” Tad’s voice trembled. “To Ashley and Mrs. Benton. The way Ashley would flinch if someone moved too fast near her. The weird bruises she’d sometimes have on her arms that looked like handprints.” His fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt. “I mean, everyone knew…but no one said anything.”

Everly’s jaw tightened, and she didn’t bother to hide a tear that slipped down her cheek.

Jessie watched the boy’s shoulders curl inward, each word making him smaller.

“I started posting anonymously online. Just venting at first. About how someone I liked only saw me as a friend. And that it was hurting me to see them getting hurt. I wanted to know how you went about protecting someone like that. About how to not feel so helpless because the person I cared about didn’t care about me or themself.” He swallowed hard. “That’s when Larry reached out. He said he understood. That he had been there. He said sometimes good people have to do bad things to help others.”

Everly’s hand tightened on her son’s shoulder. “Oh, Tad...”

Her tone was one that Jessie recognized but had never been on the receiving end. It was the anguish that only a parent that had failed their child could feel. She fought back thoughts of her own father’s cold words and iron drive as she waited for the boy to continue.

“He made it sound so simple.” Tears rolled down Tad’s cheeks. “Just scare Mr. Benton enough to make him stop. Show him what it felt like to be scared. That there was always someone bigger. Larry said he’d handled guys like Travis before, knew how to make them learn their lesson without really hurting them.”

Alex shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. He had been scribbling notes at a furious pace and looked up. “Tad, did he offer to…hurt Mr. Benton for you?”

The teen could only nod his head, clearly ashamed of the actions he had taken.

“It’s okay, Tad. You’re doing great. Can you tell us what happened next?” Jessie deliberately kept her voice low and nonthreatening.

“We talked a bit more, off and on. One night, I overheard mom and day-” he glanced quickly at Everly – “discussing the summer barbeque The Glades always puts on. Each season, one house is picked to host and this year it was us. And I heard mom say that they needed to make a decision about inviting the Bentons, because you never know what might set Mr. Benton off. And what they did behind their doors was one thing, but mom said she would be damned if it would be displayed in our house.”

He cast his eyes down, his shoulders starting to heave once again as he cried. Everly shook with tears as well and hugged her son, comforting him in the only way she knew how.

Tad took a deep breath and continued. “He said he would do it for Five hundred dollars. I mean, I don’t know what people charge for this kind of thing, so I thought it sounded like a deal. I sent him the money through an online cash app and waited. Finally, he reached back out and asked when I’d be in Pine Haven, and when would the Bentons. I told him and he said he’d reach out when he arrived in town. Once we were here and the Bentons arrived, he messaged me saying he was in town.” The boy closed his eyes and cleared his throat. “I asked what he was going to do, and he said not to worry about it. He said when it was over, Ashley would see me as her knight in shining armor. And that was all I really wanted…anyway, I got the message the night that…you know…Mr. Benton was…” he stumbled, unable to finish the sentence.

Alex looked up, something dark and foreboding flashed across his features. “Tad, did you meet this man in person?”

The boy looked up at Alex, his face slack and wet with tears. He could only nod.

Jessie could tell from the stiffening of Everly’s body and the look on her face that this was something Tad had not previously revealed.

The boy dragged his forearm across his nose before continuing. “I, um…” he took a deep breath, casting his face to the ceiling. “I met him and showed him how to get through the back trails along the lake that wind through The Glades.” Again, tears overcame the boy as guilt settled in. “I…I showed him where the blind spots were for the cameras. but he honestly didn’t seem to care that much. But he did tell me to stay out of view. He said it would be better if no one knew I was involved.”

Jessie was grinding her teeth in barely concealed anger. She turned to Alex. “Classic manipulation. Fits this guy’s profile. Tad, did he tell you that he was doing all of this for you? To show you that you deserve to be seen by the object of your affection?”

The boy stared at her then nodded. “Yeah. He was going to help me.”

Jessie let out a sigh. “Tad, listen to me. This was not your fault. The person that did this is highly skilled at using people to get what they want. You didn’t do this.”

Tad’s face went blank as he slowly shook his head. “But I did. I told him about everything going on. I showed him where Travis Benton lived. I paid him to…do what he did.”

Jessie felt her heart breaking for the young man. She knew that he would never forgive himself for his actions. She didn’t envy what Everly would be put through for years to come.

And it would be all the worse if they weren’t able to find Larry Burns and bring Thaddeus back home alive.

Alex paused writing and looked up. “Tad, how did you communicate with this guy?”

“We used WhatChat…it’s a super secure message app,” he replied.

“Can I see them?” Alex asked.

Tad looked around, guilt once again crossing his features. “The app is only on my phone. And that…was taken.”

Jessie had begun to lightly pace the floor. “And now we know why. Did you pay him his money through that app?” When Tad nodded, she stopped her pacing. “Then he’s afraid that could have somehow been traced back to him. No matter how secure an app, a wireless cash transfer can leave a digital signature.”

“One that might have helped us identify him,” Alex finished.

Jessie wagged a finger in thought. “But what about the find-your-phone feature? Maybe we can track the phone.”

Tad gave her a discouraged look. “I tried that as soon as I realized what had happened. He must have shut it off.”

Everly stood up, her eyes widening. “Well, what about the Trackster app?” She gave her son an apologetic look. “Thaddeus had it installed on yours and your sister’s phone. It’s a separate piece of embedded hardware that has its own battery. So even if the phone is powered off it can still send a ping to us giving its location.”

Tad gave her a horrified look. “You had us chipped?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Tad,” his mother replied. “It was in case you were ever kidnapped or…something.”

Alex was already rushing to Everly’s side. “Can you activate it?”

Everly pulled out her own cell phone and opened the screen.

Jessie was beside her, watching over her shoulder. “So, even if he powers it completely off, or the battery ran down, you can still find it?”

“Well, that’s how it was pitched to us. Certainly cost us enough to have them installed before giving each of the kids a phone.” Everly pulled up an app and then keyed in an additional four-digit code. “Let’s see… this one is Tad’s. And…” she swiped at the app a couple of times and her screen changed to an overhead land mass, with a camera that quickly zoomed in until there was a red dot blinking at an intersection of roads.

Jessie heard a sharp intake from Alex. She looked over to see him staring wide eyed at the screen. “Alex, do you know where this is?”

He nodded. “It’s the boat yard on the other side of the lake. But there’s only two ways to access it. Across the lake, or the single, main entrance to the yard. Either way, we won’t have the element of surprise.”

Jessie checked her watch. “Doesn’t matter. If that’s where he is, then it’s also where Thaddeus will be.” She glanced at Everly giving her a quick nod, before looking down at Tad’s grief-stricken face. “Don’t worry. I’m bringing your daddy home.”

She nodded to Alex and hurried for the door.

40

Jessie saw the lights of Alex’s cruiser shut off as they approached the boat yard. She quickly did the same and killed her Jeep’s headlights. The service road they’d followed had been little more than packed gravel, winding around the far side of the lake where tourism didn’t reach. This was a place where work happened. Not fun. She pulled off the main road onto the narrow shoulder and turned off the engine. The phone next to her buzzed and she picked it up.

“You ready?” Alex said.

Jessie leaned forward, staring out the window. “Yes. I have you in sight. As soon as you pull into the yard, I’ll duck around the side and see if I can spot anything. Don’t get out of the car until I’m back.”

“Gotcha.”

Jessie watched as Alex’s car slowly began to roll forward. She eased out of her seat and slipped into the foliage that lined wither side of the boat yard. A large, intricately painted sign read “Tuckers Boat Maintenance” was hung above the two posts that marked the entrance into the repair yard. Underneath it was two smaller signs, each pointing in the opposite direction. One said “Dry Docks” and the other read “Lake Entry”.

“Place looks deserted,” she muttered into her cell, scanning the yard. Security lights mounted on tall poles cast harsh circles of illumination, creating deep pockets of darkness between the vessels.

“Should be,” Alex replied, checking his weapon. “Maintenance crews clock out at four. Only people that show up after hours are usually the boat owners and sometimes the designers-slash-builders who work for them.”

Jessie studied the layout. A collection of smaller boats in dry dock formed a corridor leading to where three larger vessels sat moored in the water. Perfect ambush territory. “Where are we with backup?”

Alex’s voice tightened. “Everyone’s up at Cedar Gap. Search radius kept expanding and the teams were spread thinner and thinner.” He checked his phone. “Nearest tactical support is an hour out, minimum.”

“So, it’s just us.” Jessie drew her own weapon, the weight uncomfortable yet familiar in her hand. She hated the idea of guns, but for now was thankful Alex had insisted. “Any idea which boat?”

Alex looked down at the newly installed app on his phone that was tracking Tad junior’s phone. “Signal’s coming from the far dock. The middle vessel - ‘The Gray Nest’. Looks like a forty-footer.” He lowered his voice. “You know this could be a trap.”

“Definitely,” Jessie replied. “But I don’t see anything obvious.”

“Maybe he’s not aware we’re coming.”

“Maybe.” But highly doubtful. So far, the killer seemed to be a full step ahead of them. No way he would be caught off guard so easily. She made her way out of the thickets and eased behind Alex’s car and up to the front door. She tapped on the glass and motioned with her head for him to follow.

They moved into the maze of boats, and carefully advanced on the dark silhouette of the docked ship. There was the faintest hint of a light shining through a port window on the back side of the vessel. Other than that, the sleek, hulking vessel was as pitch as the coming night.

Together, they made their way silently down the dock alongside the boat, hugging the shadows as much as possible. The ramp from the dock to the body creaked slightly underfoot as they made their way onboard.

Alex took point as they entered through the stern door, his weapon trained ahead. The cabin air was thick with the metallic taste of machine oil mixed with something chemical Jessie couldn’t quite place.

The main salon stretched before them, expensive leather seating barely visible in the ambient light filtering through the windows. Everything was immaculate - too immaculate for a working mechanic’s vessel. No tools, no parts, no signs of actual maintenance work.

They moved past the galley, checking the compact space with practiced efficiency. This was the first signs they saw that someone might be living onboard the vessel. The countertops were clean, but there were a couple of dishes sitting in a drying rack. The coffee maker also showed signs of recent use.

The light they’d seen from outside came from deeper within the boat, spilling from what appeared to be the primary cabin. As they approached, Jessie picked up on a buzzing- a faint electronic hum. The sound of equipment running.

She touched Alex’s arm, pointing to a shadow that didn’t quite match the others - a camera mounted in the corner, its red light steady and watching. Their presence was already known.

The master cabin door stood slightly ajar. A slice of light cut across the darkened hall like a blade. Alex walked up to the door and looked back at Jessie. She nodded to him, and swung his shoulder hard into the polished wood, throwing the door completely open.

He entered the space gun pointed and quickly swept the room as Jessie followed in behind him. The cabin was compact but well-appointed. A queen-sized bed dominated one wall, its covers undisturbed. A small desk was bolted to the opposite wall, its surface covered with papers and what looked like architectural drawings. A half-empty coffee cup sat on the corner, its contents cold.

Jessie touched the ceramic cup. “Been gone for a while,” she muttered. Her eyes caught on a laptop screen glowing softly on the desk. Multiple windows were open - surveillance footage, what looked like building schematics, and a series of coded messages she couldn’t decipher at first glance.

Alex moved to check the attached head, weapon still ready. “Clear.” He relaxed his grip on his gun and sidled up to Jessie. “What’d you find?”

She was moving the mouse around, clicking through documents. “These look like some of the same court filing documents that Will was showing me. For that LLC I have him looking into. And it looks like he was trying to break into this database…but I can’t tell what it’s for.”

Alex frowned. “Why would Larry Burns – or whatever his name might be – have a laptop full of legal documents?”

She was hunched over, fingers flying across the keys. “He wouldn’t.” She stood up and turned the laptop to face Alex. “But Thaddeus Wilson would.”

Alex stared at the screen. It was startup and registration page showing who the laptop belonged to.

A dull thump echoed through the cabin walls. Both froze, eyes meeting in silent communication.

Another thump, muffled but distinct. Coming from somewhere below.

They moved in tandem, following the sound toward the built-in storage compartments that lined the lower hull. The thumping grew more insistent as they approached.

Jessie leaned forward slightly, her head tilted to one side as she zeroed in on the thumping. It was definitely coming from the compartment in front of her and she gave Alex a nod as she holstered her weapon. He kept his eyes and weapon trained on the swinging door as she reached for the latch.

The hatch swung open, and Jessie took an involuntary step back, gasping at what she saw.

Thaddeus Wilson had been stuffed into the small storage bin like a sack of feed. Ropes bound his wrists and arms to his feet, which were pulled up behind him in a painful looking fashion. His shoulders were pulled back, and one of them looked to be out of place. He was clad only in a pair of boxer shorts and his body was battered and covered in blood.

His head was facing them, and there was a dark bruise on his forehead as well as blackened eyes and a severely swollen jaw. Another bit of rope cut cruelly into his mouth and had been used as a gag.

Jessie was at his side immediately, helping to support his head. Alex holstered his weapon and joined her.

“Damn,” he said as they worked to ease the man out of his confinement.

Thaddeus was biting down on the rope, unable to stop the muffled, anguished cries of pain that came with every move his rescuers made.

“Alex, these knots - they’re a mess.” The rope that connected his hands to his feet was like a bowl of spaghetti. “We can’t untie them.” Jessie reached into the lining of her boot and retrieved a knife. “Hold him steady.”

Alex braced Thaddeus’s good shoulder while Jessie worked the blade carefully between rope and flesh. The bindings were layered, each cut revealing another precisely placed cord beneath. Thaddeus’s breathing came in sharp, pained gasps around the gag.

Jessie worked carefully, but quickly, cutting through individual bonds until she could feel the tension in Thaddeus’ body relax. She freed him of the final rope before severing the one that acted as a gag. “I’m going to turn you over on your back. Your shoulder is dislocated so I need you to keep very still. Help is on the way.” She nodded at Alex.

“Dispatch, this is Detective Thomas,” Alex spoke into his cell. “We need immediate medical assistance at Pine Haven Boatyard, slip fourteen.”

The man’s swollen eyes opened a slit as he tried to focus his vision. HIs breathing was ragged, and judging from the bruising on his sides, it looked like he had taken quite a few punches to the midsection.

“Thaddeus, you’re going to be okay. Just stay awake…focus on steadying your breathing. I know some people that are going to be so happy to have you back home. Just think about that,” Jessie said.

The man moaned as a cough rattled its way free of his lungs. “Hurts…bad. My arm…”

“I know,” Jessie sympathized. “Your shoulder’s dislocated. But you might have some broken ribs too, so I can’t risk resetting your arm. But the paramedics are on the way and you’re going to be just fine.”

“Thaddeus, do you know who did this to you?” Alex leaned over the injured man. “Do you know where he went?”

Thaddeus shook his head, the motion making him groan with pain.

Reaching into his pocket, Alex took out his phone and called up a picture of Larry Burns. “Is this the man that hurt you?”

Thaddeus looked at the image, his eye widening in shock. He nodded vigorously, instinct causing him to try and drag his injured body away from the source of pain.

Jessie placed a hand on his chest to calm him just as the first high-pitched whine of sirens reached their ears. She looked up at Alex and whispered. “We aren’t going to get much out of him.”

The detective nodded and walked over to the desk where the laptop was. “But this might be able to tell us a whole lot more.”

Jessie focused on keeping Thaddeus as comfortable as possible as they heard the footsteps rushing down the wooden dock towards them. In minutes, the paramedics had Thaddeus on a stretcher and attached to monitors as they made their way back towards the ambulance.

“I told them we’d meet them at the hospital,” Alex said. “Maybe the docs can get him stabilized enough to give us an idea of what happened and why.”

Jessie had her phone in her hand. “I’ll call Everly and have her and the kids meet him there as well.” She stopped, staring at the screen.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

“A message from Will. I asked him to send me the information on some of the names he found.” She looked up at Alex, eyes wide. “Looks like he just found our killer, even though he might not have even realized it.”

41

The hospital cafeteria was nearly empty. Harsh lighting illuminated the scratched that covered the tabletop where Jessie and Alex sat. The detective took a sip from his styrofoam cup and grimaced. “I swear hospital coffee gets worse every year.”

Jessie barely registered his complaint. She was fixated on her phone screen.

“So, are you going to share what’s happening, or do I need to guess?” Alex said, sitting his cup in front of him.

“Will sent over the files on potential consultants that this mysterious LLC was looking to hire. Five names total.” She swiped through documents, her finger hovering over one particular file. “But this… is the one that caught my eye.”

She passed the photo over to Alex.

He arched an eyebrow. “That’s Larry Burns.”

Jessie held up a finger before he could continue. She took a deep breath. Except it’s not. She swiped a couple of times and handed the phone back to Alex.

The detective stared at the picture of Larry Burns. Only, this time it was accompanied by his military and professional resume. The photo was older, his hair shorter, but it was definitely him. “Remy Baines? Well, we knew he was using an alias.” He frowned. “Wait a minute…Baines. Is that -?”

Jessie was nodding. “Same last name as the man I killed overseas. The leader of that rogue military group that was terrifying the villages.”

“The one who used the flying bridge technique to execute people,” Alex finished.

Jessie started scanning the files on him. “Trained vascular and trauma surgeon. Specialized in field operations and…pain management in emergency situations. That would make him perfect for a consulting position dealing with pharmaceuticals and their use in emergency medicine.”

“And elderly VA patients would make perfect lab rats,” Alex added, a note of disgust in his voice.

Jessie was shaking her head as she read more about the man. “This file only goes back as far as his military background. Nothing before that time.”

“Is that important?”

“Could be. In my experience, many of the more radicalized military personnel had something in their background that made them become the people they were. Knowing some of that information might make it easier to predict his next move.”

Alex started to lift the cup to his lips but frowned and pushed it away. “But I can’t help but feel like something is missing. All of this just feels too big for a former military doctor turned consultant for a business startup getting into bed with big pharma.” He locked eyes with Jessie. “Do you really think all of this was just to get to you? Revenge for taking out his brother?”

She held his gaze. “That is exactly what I think.” She leaned back in her chair. “He’s after me and doesn’t care who he has to go through to get to me.”

“But why not just do that – take you on directly I mean?”

Jessie let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose because there wouldn’t be much fun in it for him if that were the case. I took something from him, and now he wants his pound of flesh from me.”

A buzzing came from Alex’s pocket, and he looked at his phone. “The officer outside Thaddeus’ door says the docs are finished patching him up and he’s awake and talking.”

“Then why are we sitting here?” Jessie asked.

They made their way out of the cafeteria, Alex tossing his half full cup into a trash bin with disdain. He nodded to the officer stationed outside of Thaddeus Wilson’s room and knocked on the open door before stepping across the threshold.

The family looked up as Jessie and Alex entered the hospital room. Everly sat perched on the edge of her husband’s bed, one hand resting protectively on his arm. The teens were huddled in the corner - Gianna curled in a chair while Tad leaned against the wall, a mix of guilt and worry clouding his features.

Despite his large frame, Thaddeus looked smaller. Bandages wrapped his torso, and his right arm was secured against his chest. The bruising on his face had deepened to angry purple, making his attempts at a reassuring smile look more like a grimace.

“Mr. Wilson,” Alex said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I went ten rounds with a cement truck.” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “But the docs say nothing’s permanent.”

Jessie watched Everly’s hand as it tightened on her husband’s arm at those words. The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed but alert. She was filled with gratitude when she saw that her husband had been returned, but there was also a tinge of wariness in her gaze as well.

“We need to ask you some questions,” Alex continued. “About what happened. How much of it do you remember?”

Jessie took a half step in Everly’s direction. “Everly, maybe you should -”

Everly straightened. “I’m not leaving.” She turned to the teenagers. “But you two are. Go get yourselves something from the vending machines.”

Gianna started to protest, but Tad grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. The surprised look that crossed her face was quickly replaced by anger as she shot invisible daggers at her mother on the way out of the room.

Once the door closed behind them, Alex pulled out his notebook. “Mr. Wilson, can you tell us how you ended up on that boat?”

Thaddeus closed his eyes, his face tightening with the effort of recall. “I was... at the club. We had just finished a game of squash -”

Alex raised his pencil. “We?”

“Yeah, Larry. A finance guy I had run into and struck up a conversation with. We finished and went back to the locker room. Then… it gets fuzzy.” His good hand moved unconsciously to his neck. “I remember feeling a sting. Then nothing until...” His voice caught.

“Until what?” Jessie pressed gently.

His eyes grew large. “I woke up on that boat, though I had no idea where I was. I was on my stomach. I remember this awful pain in my arms, and I realized they were tied behind me to my feel somehow. I tried to yank free, and I heard this awful popping sound, and it felt like my shoulder exploded.”

Everly sucked her lips in and looked at the ceiling, battling back tears.

John took in a deep breath before continuing. “And that…that bastard laughed. Here I thought we were friends, and he laughed when I felt the most God-awful pain I’d ever known. And then, he hit me. A couple good shots to the ribs. I remember gasping, unable to focus on anything. The pain in my side was bad enough but my shoulder made me feel like I was going to pass out.

“I asked him what he wanted. I told him…” he hesitated, looking up at his wife for a moment, “that I didn’t have anything to pay him with. That we were basically broke, and I was just barely keeping us afloat by moving funds from one business to another to stay ahead of our debt. Travis Benton and I had poured everything we had into this business we created. We were desperate for an infusion of cash and were looking into new sources of funding.” He looked down at his lap.

“Is that why you began to take on government contracts?” Jessie asked.

He nodded sheepishly.

Jessie saw a different kind of tension flood into Everly. Her mouth dropped to make a perfect ‘O’ as she stared at the man she had married. “We’re broke?”

Thaddeus’ shoulders shook as he began to sob. but when he spoke, his voice seemed filled with relief. “I wanted to tell you so many times, Ev. I really did. I just…every time I got close, I chickened out. I just kept telling myself I only needed a little more time. That once we got the new business partners in place then the money would roll in again. And you’d never have to know.” He looked up at his wife, his face now wet with tears. “I’ve been so embarrassed. And the fact that I thought you’d be so disappointed in me… I just pulled away more and more. It became like a snowball rolling downhill – I just couldn’t stop after a while.”

Everly grasped his face gently in her hands. “Thad – you stupid, stupid, wonderful man. You know you can tell me anything. Always. I thought…I thought you were having an affair. That you were planning to leave me for someone else.”

An electric shock ran through Thaddeus’ body. “What? Everly – you and the kids are the best things that have ever happened to me. That’s why I was so desperate to fix this. I didn’t want to lose you. That’s why I was desperate enough to listen to that madman…”

“But, what about the woman you’ve been talking to? The one involved in that game you play all the time? Thaddeus…I saw some of those messages. They were explicit to say the least.”

Thaddeus looked at her through swollen eyes and made a croaking sound in the back of his throat that sounded like it was a mix of a laugh and a cough. He gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “Babe, that was a technology COO for a gaming company her husband owns. She wanted to bring me onboard as an investor – promising huge returns – and wanted me to see just how big the gaming industry is. To see how much potential profit there was. That’s why I was playing, to get a feel for whether or not she was blowing smoke up my ass. And yeah, she took things to far with some of the things she’d say. And I was desperate…so I went along. But I swear – I’ve never met that woman in person and never would.”

Everly threw her head back and exhaled. “But you hate video games.”

Again, Thaddeus tried to laugh. “With a passion. But I was desperate.”

Everly planted a kiss on the top of her husband’s head before resting her cheek against him.

Alex gave them a stiff smile. He hadn’t written down the details of their intimate conversation, but his demeanor changed as he cleared his throat, his pencil poised above the small notepad. “I know this isn’t pleasant for you, but is there anything more you can tell us? Did he say anything?”

“Oh, he said a lot. More to himself than to me. He was mumbling a lot. The only time he spoke directly to me was when he was demanding passwords to my computer.”

Alex stopped writing and looked up. “Where did he get your computer?”

“I had it with me at the club. I always have my laptop. You never know when a business opportunity might present itself. It was in my locker.”

“Do you know what he was after on the computer?” Jessie asked.

“And my god, Thaddeus, why didn’t you just give it to him?” Everly added.

“Actually, had he complied completely, he would most likely not be here now,” Alex said before nodding at the man.

Thaddeus thought for a moment. “He was able to open the computer using the fingerprint reader on it, but he couldn’t get into whatever programs he was after. I keep separate passwords on every account I have. I have a feeling he was after something in my business account -”

“The LLC you formed with Travis Benton?” Jessie interjected.

He nodded to her. “That’s right. I don’t know what he was after in there, but he was determined to get in. The more I refused to give him the passwords, the angrier he was getting. That was when he started working me over more…and tightening those damn ropes. When he threatened to fix them so that the next time, I moved it would dislocate my other shoulder and then one of my knees…I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave in and told him the password…” He lowered his head in shame.

“That’s alright,” Jessie said. “You did what anyone would have done in that situation. And you brought yourself time for me and Alex to get to you. But I am curious…you said he was mumbling things to himself. Could you make out any of it?”

He furrowed his brow, wincing with the effort. “I mean, it was just all a bunch of stuff that didn’t match up. Like, he kept talking about his dad and his brother and how that couldn’t happen again. And then stuff about hunting, and greedy know-it-alls that needed to learn their manners. Oh -” He looked up, staring at Jessie. “And he said your name a couple of times.”

Jessie tightened her jaw but didn’t respond. She looked over at Alex and saw the same tension escalating in him.

“Mr. Wilson,” Alex started, “do you know what files he was after regarding your company?”

“No. I couldn’t see what he was doing, and honestly, the pain was too much to concentrate.”

Jessie thought for a moment and then stepped out of the room to speak with the officer standing guard. She quickly returned, holding a sealed evidence bag in hand. Inside, along with Tad junior’s cell phone, was the laptop that was found onboard the boat. She presented it to him and asked he would mind opening it. He placed a finger on the reader and the screen flared to life. “This was the screen that was showing when we found you.”

Thaddeus stared at it, then looked up, confused. “Well, this is not really anything. I mean, it’s a breakdown of the company’s ownership shares.”

Jessie stared at him, a thought – dark and twisting – forming in the back of her mind. “Could he have gotten to who the third partner is that’s a part of your company?”

“How do you know about that…?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Could he have found the name?”

Thaddeus shrugged slowly. “I suppose.” He reached out with his free hand and keyed in a couple of commands, before turning to show the screen to Jessie.

She stared at the computer, one hand covering her mouth to hide the surprise at the name she read. She looked at Alex in shock. Before she could speak, Tad’s cell phone began to vibrate.

Jessie’s hand trembled as she took it out and opened the call.

“Jessie?” came the voice from the other side. “I got your message. Where are you? Why the hell did you want me to meet you in this hellish place? You know how it makes me feel. And whose number is this I’m calling you on?”

Jessie’s shock was momentary before she shouted into the phone. “John! I didn’t send you any message! Get out of -”

An audible thunk, followed by a surprised grunt and the sound of the phone dropping was her only answer. “John! John!”

Breathing came through the line, followed by the taunting voice that had reached out to her before. “No more games. Meet me where it all started for you. And come alone. Your friend doesn’t have long.”

The line went dead, and all Jessie could do was stare at Alex.

42

Jessie burst out of Thaddeus’s room, Alex close behind. Her mind raced through dark possibilities.

Where it all started.

“What did he say?” Alex already had his phone in hand. “The call, Jessie. What exactly-”

“It’s John.” Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “This maniac got John Bartley.”

Alex’s face hardened. “Where?”

Jessie locked eyes with the detective. She was going to really need to sell this one. “The Gray Eagle.” The lie slipped out easily enough. “He doesn’t think we can get there fast enough to…to…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

She started to head down the hall, but Alex stopped her. “Jessie, please, listen to me. You heard what Thaddeus was saying – this guy was mentioning you by name. After everything that has happened with you over the last year, we both know this is most likely a trap aimed at you. Just like the swinging bridge was. For once, you can’t go in hot. Let me take the lead on this.”

Where it all started.

She hesitated, swallowing hard. “Take as many officers as you can. I’ll follow behind at a safe distance and wait for your signal before coming in.”

He exhaled with relief and nodded before putting the phone to his ear to call for reinforcements. Jessie listened to him give the location for the officers to meet him as he hurried down the hall.

“Alex,” she called, waiting for him to swing back around to face her. “Be careful. And I’m sorry – for all of this.”

He nodded, his lips pressed into a grimace. “This ends tonight.” His voice trailed away as he ran down the hall.

Jessie’s eyes hardened. “Yes. Yes it does.”

And she followed him out of the hospital.

Jessie sat in her Jeep on the patch of gravel that overlooked the lake, not far from her house. She took a deep breath and looked at her watch.

Even at full siren blare, it would take Alex and company nearly thirty minutes to reach the Gray Eagle from the hospital. Even longer to make it from the motorcycle club back to the lake. Factor in another twenty minutes of following procedure to clear the club and search it.

That meant that Jessie had nearly an hour to end all of this. Or it meant that she had nearly an hour left alive.

She climbed out of the Jeep and made her way to the lake’s edge and turned left. Her mind flashed back to the look on Alex’s face. She hated herself for deceiving him.

But she knew there was no way he’d allow her to face Remy Baines alone. And she also knew that this monster would not hesitate to follow through on his promise to kill John.

She was stuck. All she could do was act. Do what she considered to be the right thing in the moment and deal with the ramifications after the fact.

If she survived that long.

She made her way along the lake front until she rounded the bend and entered an area of the lake that was cut off from the tourists. She stopped, looking at the dilapidated structure before her.

Where it all started.

Night made the boathouse look even more foreboding than usual. As soon as Remy had said the words to her over the phone, she knew exactly where he meant.

The place where her brother had left his first twisted body to toy with her.

The broken in door had been boarded up, but there was a gap where someone had removed the bottom half of the planks, creating an opening more than big enough for her to fit through. She tread across the creaky planks that led to the opening, her eyes darting back and forth to either side, watching for any tell-tale signs of an ambush.

At the opening to the structure, she hesitated briefly, pulling her phone out. She made a few quick taps of her thumbs across the screen before returning it to her pocket. Then, taking a deep breath, she ducked under the wooden boards and entered the space.

“Well. I gotta say I’m surprised. You actually came alone.”

Lanterns arranged along the walls revealed just how decayed the space had become. Lake spray and neglect had warped the wooden walls, creating gaps that let in slivers of moonlight. The musty air carried hints of rotting wood and stagnant water, mixed with the unmistakable, metallic tinge of fresh blood.

Remy Baines sat casually on the bleached gray hull of an overturned rowboat that had been stored at the back of the boathouse. There was a single lantern at his feet that shone upward, giving his face an almost skeletal look.

The Larry Burns Jessie had met at the motorcycle club was nowhere to be seen. Gone was the affable mechanic’s easy manner, replaced by the coiled tension of a predator.

As shocking as it was to come face to face with him, it was the elaborate rigging behind him that made Jessie’s breath catch in her throat.

John Bartley stood at the edge of the boat slip - a dark rectangle in the floor where black water lapped below. His arms were wrenched behind him, secured to the wall with an intricate series of knots that forced his shoulders back at an unnatural angle. Sweat gleamed on his face, each labored breath causing the ropes to shift minutely. Every movement, no matter how small, tightened the bindings further.

It was the rope around his neck, though, that made Jessie’s blood run cold.

The line snaked up through a complex pulley system Remy had created in the rafters, each point of contact reinforced with military precision. The rope descended through multiple anchor points before terminating at opposite walls, creating a web of tension that held John suspended at a precise angle over the opening. One wrong move, one moment of panic, and his own weight would become his undoing.

“It’s good to see you again, Larry,” Jessie said. “Or is it Remy?”

The man ignored her, still admiring his handiwork. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Remy’s voice carried genuine pride. Like a teacher showcasing his masterwork. He stood with fluid grace, running his hand along one of the tension lines. The rope quivered at his touch, causing John to inhale sharply. “The Japanese call it Shikaku no Mai - the Death Dance. The victim provides their own execution.” His fingers traced the intricate knot work. “One slip, the slightest push, and gravity does the rest. Breaks the neck and spine simultaneously.” He tossed an evil grin Jessie’s way. “It’s amazing the things you can learn on the internet nowadays. Entire private groups devoted to knotwork.”

John’s wide eyes met Jessie’s. A line of blood flowed from his temple where Remy had subdued him, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. His fingers twitched behind his back, testing the bonds, but each movement only seemed to increase the tension on his neck.

“Let him go,” Jessie said quietly, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her chest. “This is between us.”

Remy gave her a genuine look of confusion, followed by a low chuckle. “You’re right. It is. But not in the way you’re imaging, I bet.” His face hardened and he leveled a steely gaze at her. “Now, before we go any further, I need you to take that gun out you’ve started carrying and toss it in the water.” She didn’t answer and he took a menacing step towards John, one hand trailing along one of the ropes. “Do it, or I’ll give this line a tug and the next thing you hear will be a very loud snapping sound…”

Every instinct Jessie had told her he wasn’t bluffing. They also told her that more likely than not he was planning to kill John anyway. Still, she needed time to think. She locked eyes with Remy and walked slowly to the opening in the floor. The snap of her holster unfastening, followed by the splash of her gun hitting the water below seemed like the loudest sound she had ever known.

Looking up at Remy, she held her hands outstretched to either side. “So, what now? What do I need to do in order to get you to let John go?”

Remy’s face darkened as he looked from her to John and back again. “What? No…he’s already dead and just hasn’t realized it yet.”

Jessie stiffened. “If he dies, I can promise you that you’ll be next.” She chanced a quick look at John and could see the desperation in his eyes. “It’s not too late to end this.”

Remy was shaking his head. “I told you I had one more left to go before my hunt was over. Then there were two. And then three. So, that was my mistake. But I swear no more after this.”

Jessie didn’t bother to hide her confusion. She took a step back, careful to keep her movements at a minimum so as not to surprise Remy. “What are you talking about.” Her eyes were locked on the killer, but she was mentally going over everything she had seen when she entered the boathouse.

Everything that could possibly be a weapon.

Remy scratched his head absentmindedly. “Maybe this was a mistake.” He gave her a questioning look. “Was it wrong for me to come here?”

Jessie took another half step to her right, away from the opening in the floor. “Remy, you told me you were here to hunt. And it’s me you’re after, right? All of this killing was to get my attention, wasn’t it? Well, it worked. I’m here now. Let John go, and you and I can discuss things further.”

He spun around, clearly confused and mumbled to himself. Jessie couldn’t make out what exactly he as saying but she took the opportunity to move closer to the wall on her right.

Remy’s back stiffened and he turned to her. “You need to stay right where you are. And that axe on the wall you’re inching towards is rotted through. You swing it and the head is likely to fly off. Be a shame if it hits one of the support ropes keeping John here in one piece.”

Jessie froze in mid-step, her eyes not leaving the killer.

“See, I don’t get it then,” Remy continued, confusion creeping into his tone. “What are you doing here, if you’re not going to help me?”

Now it was Jessie’s turn to be confused. Her mind raced as she tried to identify what mental state the man might be in. Without knowing that, and what might trigger him to further violence, she knew she had to proceed carefully. “I’m here because you lured me here. In order to take revenge on me for killing your brother.”

Remy’s arms flopped at his side, and he took a step away from John. “My brother was a sadistic animal. He was rabid, and you put him down.” He swallowed hard and Jessie could see his chest heaving as he clinched his fists at his side. “Am I happy he’s gone? No. But he made his bed and happily climbed into it with dirty feet. He probably did things that you’ll never know about.” His eyes narrowed and his voice grew harder. “But not my father. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Jessie held out both hands, trying to placate the man. “Remy, I don’t know anything about your father. I didn’t kill him.”

He stared at her, his face flushing heavily in the light of the lanterns. “I know that. He, along with countless other veterans, was used as human guinea pigs. Used to test new drugs on while in the military. Drugs that caused them terrible deaths.” His voice bellowed as he stomped towards Jessie. “The poison that Thaddeus Wilson and Travis Benton are about to start pedaling to the private sector killed my father!” He jabbed a finger in John’s direction. “He killed my father!” His shoulders slumped, as if all the energy had poured out of him in the outburst. “And he killed yours as well.”

43

The mention of her father was like being hit in the chest with a sledgehammer.

Jessie gasped, her vision narrowing as memories flooded her. “I don’t…you don’t know anything about my father.” Flashes of red was beginning to cloud her vision, and the first sparks of anger began simmering.

Remy sneered at her. “Oh, I might not have known the man personally. But I know all about him. The lung cancer my father had was the result of a specific type of agent he was exposed to. An agent that was later modified and turned into XR-572. Your father had the same cancer, Jessie. As I’m sure you know by now, I was a military physician. I had access to a lot of medical records. And thinks to these assholes -” he jabbed a finger in John’s direction – “I got to look through a lot of the original files that documented how XR-572 came to be. And the patients that they used it on without consent.”

“You’re lying.” Jessie’s voice sounded foreign in her ears.

“Why would I? My father was a hard man, but I loved him, and he loved me. I watched him die a slow, agonizing death. Watched as he spent his last days on this earth drowning in the blood that was trapped in his lungs.” His chest heaved as he stared at her. “And I’m betting you watched the same horror unfold with yours. But you know what…it didn’t need to happen.”

“My father had cancer. And if yours did as well, then I’m very sorry. But don’t you dare to try to turn that into some kind of conspiracy -”

Remy barked a laugh. “I don’t have to turn it into anything. You think no one knew what your father was involved in? You found out and hid it until after his death. You think what he and your aunt were up to wasn’t worth killing for?”

The space between them seemed to blur and before she realized it Jessie was only inches from Remy’s face. “I think you need to stop right now. Before you say something we are both going to regret.”

Remy stepped back, not taking his eyes off her trembling form. “You didn’t know?” He turned his back, walking slowly away. “I thought…I mean, I assumed that was why you were here in Pine Haven. That you were searching for the men responsible for their deaths.”

Jessie stood still, trying to focus on her breathing. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Is that why you are here? You weren’t…after vengeance.”

He spun to face her. “Oh, I am all about the vengeance. Just not for the reason you think. I thought we were playing a game Jessie. Trying to see who could get to them first. I thought there were only two involved in this, but the deeper I looked I realized there was a third partner. I got Travis but he…passed away before he could give me the third partner’s name. But I knew about Thaddeus, and he was a little more forthcoming with information. Well…after some persuading that is.” His brow furrowed as he looked at her. “I left him alive for you. I didn’t think it would be fair for me to finish him off too.” He looked up at John. “But this one is up for grabs.”

“You are not well, Remy. I’m not killing my friend.”

Remy’s nostrils flared as he took another step away from her. “Your…friend? This monster is nobody’s friend. He’s done bad things as well, you know.”

“Maybe. But he didn’t do what you’re accusing him of.”

Remy slapped a hand against his head before pulling it down his face. Before pointing again at John. “I should have killed him and gotten it over with. I should have known you were weak.”

Jessie took a small step towards him. “Remy. Let me help you. It’s not too late to turn yourself in and get the help you need.”

The barkish laugh ripped through the boathouse again. “Oh, I know I’m going to fry for what I’ve done. Or spend the rest of my days in a hell site off grid somewhere, locked so far under the ground that I’ll never see the light of day again. And you know what? I’m happy to do that. But not until I’ve put everyone in the ground that had a hand in killing my daddy.”

“What about Julia?” Jessie snapped. The change in the man’s posture told her she had his attention. “Was she involved in killing your father? Or James Poole, the guard at The Gates. What did he do?”

“They were in my way, Jessie. Julia followed me to the boat that day after our confrontation at the motorcycle club. Even after I told her she couldn’t be there. She wanted to make things right and apologize for yelling at me the way she did. She knew where I lived, and I couldn’t risk her telling anyone else. And that guard…he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I knew as soon as I saw that detective there, I’d left another loose end. I still had work to do, and he would have prevented it.”

“When you killed Julia, you tried to kill me as well.”

“That was a calculated risk. I was hoping that the detective was going to go out on that bridge, not you. It was a mistake to let him live in the first place.”

“Why didn’t you kill Alex that night? And, for that matter, what about Tad? The boy? Why leave him alive.”

He gave her a shocked look. “Alex didn’t see me. Plus, I had been watching you. I knew what he meant to you, and at the time I thought maybe you and I were on the same side. But then, I realized Alex was maybe a little too close…that he was what was preventing you from doing your duty. And I don’t hurt children, Jessie. I’m not that much of a monster.”

“So, instead, you used Tad junior? Came here under the pretense of helping him?”

Remy nodded. “Of course I did. I needed a way to signal you that I was in town. Plus, finding out that he was an abuser only made what I had to do that much easier. I knew killing him would draw you out, and it did. I was just waiting for you to figure out a way to make contact with me. But you never reached out…and now I know why.” The look he gave John chilled Jessie to her core.

The ropes attached to John creaked as he shifted his weight. Even that slight movement caused him to cry out in pain. “Jessie…get out of here. This guy is crazy. Let him…do what he needs to with me. And then, you hunt him down. And put him in the ground with his brother.”

Jessie saw the rage in Remy’s face and John’s words struck home. The cool reasoning was instantly abandoned, replaced by unchecked rage.

The kind of rage that made reasoning slip.

Remy’s lips drew into a snarl as he lunged for John. But to get to the bar owner, he had to pass Jessie. And that was when he realized his mistake. She hadn’t been positioning herself to reach the axe on the wall. She had been placing her body between Remy and John.

And when Remy lunged past her, she struck.

44

In his rush to get to John, Remy threw his arm out, meaning to shove Jessie aside. She seized his wrist in an overhand grip and employed a technique that used Remy’s momentum against him. She pivoted her hip into his body and sent him crashing to the floor hard.

He recovered from the strike quicker than she expected as he rolled with the landing, coming to his feet near the wall where the ropes supporting John were anchored. He lunged for one, pulling hard against it. John screamed in pain, his body lurching forward.

Jessie reacted without thinking. Thoughts of Remy fled her mind as she raced to her friend’s aide. She came up behind John and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling back towards her and away from the edge to relieve some of the tension applied to his body. She could feel the ropes puling at his arms slacken ever so slightly, but it was enough to bring a moment of relief to the man’s taut body.

That relief was short lived.

Jessie felt something coarse and scratchy wrap itself around her throat.

She had been so focused on John she didn’t hear Remy had slip up behind her. He held a length of rope in his hands and had thrown it around Jessie’s neck.

Her instinct was to grab for the rope, to try and pull it from her skin, but she sensed that what Remy was trying to do was loop the piece of rope around her throat. If he succeeded in doing that, she was as good as dead.

Instead of reaching for the rope, she threw her head backwards, connecting with the taller man’s chin. Not enough to cause real damage, but it made him relax his grip on the rope enough for her follow up with an elbow strike to his midsection.

Remy grunted as the air was driven from his lungs. He staggered backwards just enough that Jessie was able to spin and land a side kick that drove him away from her and back against the overturned rowboat.

Remy crashed into the rowboat but used the momentum to grab another coil of rope from behind it. His movements were fluid and precise. Like someone who’d spent countless hours practicing these motions.

“You’re good,” he said, circling to Jessie’s left. “We could really have helped each other.”

She took a couple of steps to the side, trying to draw him away from John. Remy feinted forward, causing Jessie to shift her weight to counter. But it was a trap - his real attack came low, sweeping her legs out from under her. She managed to roll with the fall, but the wet floorboards were treacherous. Her shoulder hit hard, momentarily stunning her as she rolled onto her stomach.

That split second was all Remy needed.

He dropped his knee onto her back, driving the air from her lungs. Before she could recover, she felt the first loop of rope slide around her upper arms. His weight prevented her from bucking him off as he worked with practiced speed.

Jessie drove her elbow backward, catching him in the thigh. But he absorbed the blow, using the motion to tighten the bindings further. He pulled up and back and she felt another loop engage her ankles, pulling her calves up to meet the backs of her thighs. Each movement she made seemed to play into his plan as the ropes became living things in his hands.

Behind them, John struggled against his own bonds, the creaking of stressed rope filling the boathouse. “Jessie!”

Jessie looked up at him. “Stop moving!” Her voice was little more than a growl.

She could feel Remy working the ropes into the same intricate pattern he’d used on his other victims. Each loop, each knot was being placed with surgical precision. She closed her eyes and thought back to everything Lady Maya had told her.

“It’s not just about knowing the trigger points when bound,” she had said. “It is also about the tension in the ropes and creating just any amount of give you can. Even if it’s only a hair’s breadth of slack…”

Jessie took a deep breath, expanding her ribcage as much as possible while Remy worked. She flexed her arms slightly, tensing the muscles beneath the ropes. Every millimeter of space she could create now would mean the difference between life and death later.

“The thing about rope artists,” Remy said, working another loop across her shoulders, “is that they think their art is about trust. About connection.” He yanked the binding tight, but Jessie maintained her expanded posture. “But there was one thing my brother was right about. It’s about control. And fear.”

She felt him placing the crucial knot - the one that would connect her upper body restraints to what he planned for her legs. Lady Maya’s voice echoed in her mind. “There’s always a master knot. Find it, and the whole pattern begins to unravel.”

Remy looked down, admiring his work. “Not bad if I do say so myself.” He glanced over at John. “Well, since she has no interest in finishing you off…” He stood, moving toward his bag of supplies, giving Jessie her first moment without his weight pressing down on her.

Slowly, carefully, she let her muscles relax. The fraction of space she’d created by expanding her chest allowed her fingers to brush against the rope work. She could feel the patterns now, the way each strand connected to form the larger web. Somewhere in this design was the trigger point that would give her the slack she needed. The fact that he had tied her so quickly worked to her advantage.

It meant he hadn’t taken the time to perform an intricate binding the way he had with Travis Benton.

She just needed a bit more time. “You know there is no way you’re going to get away with this, right?”

He didn’t bother to glance back at her. “I’ve gotten away with it so far. But it will complicate things a bit, having to backtrack and clean up after you. I really thought you’d finish Wilson off. I even left you his computer and everything.”

“You’re not well, Remy,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice low to hide the signs of her struggles. “You need help.”

“Probably. That’s what they used to tell me in med school before putting me on pills. And I’ll admit, those pills made it easier for me to think and learn. To get through med school. But they would never have let me do what I need to now in order to end this.”

Jessie winced as she struggled against the ropes. At least now she understood his erratic behavior a little better. “How long’s it been since you took your medication, Remy? Why don’t you -”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand as he stood up. “You can stop. I know what you you’re doing.” Jessie froze her movements, staring at his back. “You’re trying to distract me long enough for your detective to get here with backup.” He turned and lifted a hand, showing her the ballpen hammer he held. He pointed it at John. “I’ll make this quick for him.”

“No, wait -” Jessie said, resuming her fight against the ropes. Remy ignored her and advanced on John. “Wait! I’ll help you!”

Remy stopped in mid step, his back stiffening. Slowly, he turned to face her. “What did you say?”

She swallowed hard. “I said I’ll help you to finish this. But I can promise you, that these men – John, Travis, and Thaddeus – are most likely just the beginning.” She shifted slightly, her right shoulder dropping just a hair, allowing her to pivot the weight from one hip. “You were a doctor, so I can’t imagine what you’ve seen. I was a military investigator. I’ve seen how the government tries to hide things. I know how they do it.”

Remy frowned, scratching his head. “But…why now? You didn’t believe me earlier.”

“That’s not true. I did believe you. I just wasn’t sure that you were going about solving the problem the right way.” She watched him debate her words to himself, his lips moving. She managed to squeeze one shoulder forward and then drop it down.

Yes.

It freed one wrist just enough for Jessie to reach one of the knots on her hip that was hidden from Remy’s view. Slowly, carefully, she let her muscles relax. The fraction of space she’d created by expanding her chest allowed her fingers to brush against more of the rope work. She could feel the hastily constructed patterns now. The way each strand connected to form the larger web. Somewhere in this design was the trigger point that would give her the slack she needed.

And there it was. She worked at it, feeling for which strand emanating from it would loosen the binding on her feet.

Bingo.

Remy scratched at his head, looking from her to John. “You think there’s more involved in this? Selling that poison. Trying to profit off veterans?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Trust me. If there is money to be made, there are always more people involved.”

He nodded slowly in agreement. “So how…how do you suggest we handle this? What idea would you have?”

She looked at John, her eyes narrowing. “John is involved in all kinds of illegal trade in this area of the country. My bet is the whole conglomeration was his idea. He’s been trying to integrate his illegal dealings into legitimate businesses. It’s all one big money laundering scheme for him. We have time. I say make him talk before killing him. Make him give us another name…someone higher up.”

The man swayed back and forth, debating what she had said. He began to pace. “Maybe. But…I think you’re just saying that. You want me to stop what I’m doing.” He started towards John again, hammer raised.

“Did you even try to make him talk,” Jessie said, quickly. “He’s weak. And he will do anything to protect himself. No one knows we’re here. You have time. I can show you how to make him talk.” John’s eyes grew wide as he took the conversation in, and Jessie could see Remy studying his captive’s face.

Then, his eyes lit up with cruelty.

He stepped over to Jessie, grinning. “Tell you what. You tell me how to make him talk, and if that works, I’ll cut you loose and you and I can start over.”

Jessie didn’t hesitate. “Deal. The reason you aren’t having luck getting your victims to talk is the way you’re binding them. Strangulation creates too much blinding fear in them. Their mind doesn’t have time to process anything other than escaping. It’s all the victim can focus on. There is no anticipation of pain…”

Remy looked around. “Makes sense. Go on.”

“Do you have anything that burns? John isn’t particularly fond of fire.”

“Jessie…” John’s voice sounded broken as it drifted to them.

Remy smiled. “You know, I think I might have just the thing.”

He walked beside Jessie, heading for the bag he had at the back of the boathouse. As he walked by, she struck.

She rolled onto her side, and with her free leg, lashed out, catching Remy in the side of his shin. He fell, and Jessie swung her foot again, this time making contact with the side of his head.

In an instant, Jessie was on her knees. She rolled backwards, slipping the ropes that bound her under her buttocks and bringing her legs through in a single fluid motion.

Jessie gained her feet at the same time as Remy.

The man’s upper lip drew back in a snarl as he took stock of her. Adjusting the grip on the hammer, he feinted a lunge to gauge Jessie’s reaction. To his surprise, she didn’t fall for it, holding the same defensive stance she had adopted.

Jessie’s still had a length of rope wrapped around her two wrists, but knew the slack between them could work to her advantage. Especially against someone who wielded a weapon that needed to be swung.

Remy’s feint told her a lot about him as a fighter. He wasn’t trained. Probably nothing more than what he had experienced in basic training.

Still, that didn’t make him any less dangerous. She had seen many very good fighters get taken out because of overconfidence. She slid her foot along the floor, kicking aside the ropes she had managed to free herself from. They had dropped in a pile around her legs and she was careful to side-step around them.

Moving clear of them assured she wouldn’t accidentally trip. But more importantly, it meant keeping Remy away from the favored tools he could use to once again subdue her.

Remy mirrored her as she slowly stepped into an area to the side of the opening in the floor. He lunged forward for real this time, swinging the hammer in a vertical arc from floor to ceiling.

It wasn’t an attack Jessie expected. most would have attacked with an overhead smash. She shifted her weight to one side and leaned back as the hammer breezed past her.

The attack was fast, and she could tell that Remy was far stronger than his wiry form would suggest. But that also showed her his weakness. The recovery from the swing left him off balance and stumbling.

The first thing she needed to do was to disarm him. A hammer was a clumsy weapon, but it could still do considerable damage. She drifted forward, closing the gap between them slightly.

Remy thought she meant to lean in and raised the hammer, aiming to land a blow on the top of her head. When he raised his arm, Jessie stepped back and simultaneously lashed out in a low sidekick that caught his knee cap.

The man grunted in pain and lurched off balance, his arm dropping to the side. That was Jessie’s cue, and she stepped forward, quickly coiling a length of the rope she held around the wrist of his hand that held the hammer.

She pivoted her hip so that her back was to him and the wrenched down, smashing his elbow over her shoulder. the cracking sound caused Remy to cry out in real pain and the hammer dropped from his now useless hand, the arm dangling at an awkward angle at his side.

Jessie danced back away from him, surveying the damage she had done. “We don’t have to do this Remy. You can still surrender.”

“Bitch!” He was enraged and spittle flew in all directions as he swung the fist of his good arm in a wild hay-maker meant for the side of Jessie’s face.

She sighed, easily parrying the blow by sweeping it aside with her right arm. She pushed his arm down and swung her left fist in a mirror of the blow meant for her. Only her’s connected. Her knuckles striking the side of his jaw hard enough to send him spinning.

When he turned his back on her, she moved in fast. Throwing the rope she still held over his head and around his neck. She began to pull back, but Remy used her own tricks against her as he attempted to throw his weight backwards and dislodge her.

Letting go of one end of the rope, Jessie raised her elbow and dropped the point of it into the back of his head. The blow disoriented the man enough that she was able to lift one foot and drive the sole of her boot into the back of the knee she had already weakened.

The attack worked, and Remy dropped to one knee, allowing Jessie to slip the rope back around his neck. This time, she had positioning and leverage to her advantage and when she pulled the rope taut, she heard the gasp as Remy instinctively tried to fill his lungs with air.

Again, she lifted her leg, this time driving her knee into his upper back, between his shoulder blades. What little air Remy had managed to draw was driven from him as he collapsed forward as Jessie’s weight pinned him down.

He began to flail about futilely, desperate to claw at her with his good arm. She lifted her boot and punned his arm to the ground while exerting more force against his throat with the rope.

His thrashing began to subside, and she could feel the fight leaving his body. She waited for the final throes to subside before she relaxed her grip. She slid off the man, her own breaths coming in shallow gasps.

She made her way to her feet, and over to Remy’s large duffel bag that was stored near the overturned rowboat. Jessie rooted through the bag until she found what she needed and then made her way towards John.

“Is he dead?” John said over his shoulder as she approached him from behind.

“No. Just unconscious.”

The muscles in her shoulders felt like they were on fire as she lifted her arms to cut the rope around John’s neck. Then, she cut the ones securing his arms and feet.

He cried out as his limbs dropped to his side.

“The feeling will come back,” Jessie said. “Just have to work the kinks out.” She helped him to stand upright and started to vigorously rub his shoulders. “John – that stuff I said. You know I needed to distract him…keep him talking while I tried to free myself.”

“No. You don’t need to explain yourself. I know why you said what you did and I understand.”

She nodded. His words said one thing, but his tone carried a tinge of something else.

Jessie swallowed as she dropped her hands to her sides. “But we need to talk about – the things that Remy said.”

John was already nodding. He held her gaze. “I’ll tell you everything I -” His words were cut off and his eyes grew wide at something taking place over her shoulder.

John’s grip was vicelike as he latched onto Jessie’s shoulders and spun her around, swapping their positions. She felt his body tense as he covered her’s with his own.

Before she could react, a gunshot rang out, deafening in the enclosed space. Both of them stood still, neither breathing, until Jessie pulled John to the side.

There, behind her, stood Remy Baines. He was steps away, his broken arm dangling at his side. His other hand clutching the raised hammer he had wielded earlier. The look of surprise in his eyes would have been comical in any other setting.

He looked down at the dark red stain that began to spread from his shoulder, spilling down across his chest. The hammer fell to his feet as he staggered forward, falling face first into the boat dock opening, splashing into the dark waters below.

Jessie spun around to see Alex standing at the opening to the boathouse, gun raised, tiny wisps of smoke curling from the barrel.

“Are you two okay?” he asked, hurrying to their side.

John looked around, his eyes large. “Dude! Did you just shoot past us to hit him? You could have killed me!”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome.” He took a deep breath and frowned at Jessie.

She held a hand up. “Before you say anything, I did what I had to do. He would have killed John the moment I showed up and he realized I wasn’t alone.”

Alex holstered his weapon, then reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?” His voice was soothing and kind. All she could do was nod. “Good. That’s all that matters. And thank you for activating your location sharing with me. I knew once we got to the bar, and I saw where you were…I hurried back as soon as possible.”

There was a clatter of feet coming from the outside as more officers arrived, making their way into the space.

A sense of relief and peace that Jessie hadn’t known in days washed over her and she dropped her head against Alex’s comforting chest. “Thank you,” was all she could breathe. She turned her face to the side and saw John as he stared at the two of them. Slowly, he turned and walked out of the boathouse.

45

“He was lucky. The bullet missed his subclavian artery by an inch. Otherwise, he would have bled out before they could have gotten him to the hospital.” Alex took up the glass of wine that sat on the coffee table and took a sip.

“It’s a good thing you arrived when you did,” Jessie said. Blizzard was stretched out beside her, his head resting in her lap. “And he’s lucky you’re such a good shot.”

Alex exhaled playfully. “Please. I was aiming for his head.”

Jessie laughed. “Please don’t tell that to John.”

Alex laughed, and swirled the glass in his hand, watching the dark red liquid make a tiny whirlpool. “Jessie. You could have died in there.”

“But I didn’t. I knew you would be on your way. And I couldn’t risk him killing John.” She looked away from the detective, focusing on Blizzard’s furry snout instead. “I would have done the same thing for anyone that monster put in that position.”

“I know. And I understand. I really do. It’s just that -” his voice dropped, trailing off.

“What is it?”

“The thought that you might…be gone. It’s just not something I like thinking about.”

She didn’t speak as she reached across the dog for her own glass.

“So,” Alex said, his tone clearly signaled he was ready to change the subject. “Remy wasn’t after you at all? This was all his way of getting you to -what – help him with his kill list?”

Jessie thought for a moment. “I don’t think that’s what it was. A kill list I mean. At least not to him.” She leaned forward, setting her glass back on the table. “I looked into Remy’s background. He suffers from obsessive-compulsive personality disorder, coupled with a persecutory type of delusional disorder. The latter creates a fixed, false belief about being wronged coupled with the need to hold grudges and seek revenge. You add that to the inflexibility about morality and values that comes with OCPD and you have the perfect recipe for disaster when it comes to someone that goes off their medication.

“That could also explain why he thought he was communicating with me. His little messages as he called them. The drug my brother used that he injected in Travis Benton postmortem. Leaving James Poole at the Gray Eagle the way he did. In Remy’s twisted mind, he was leaving me little breadcrumbs to say he and I were in this together.” She shook her head. “All of it only made sense to him.”

“Would his mental issues explain why he was so fixated on rope-work? Why it seemed so ritualistic in nature?”

Jessie nodded. “Absolutely. It would also explain why he was able to function so well in society. As long as he was medicated, none of his underlying disorders would interfere with his day-to-day life. Something triggered him. Something set him off on a path that led to him stopping his meds and that action enabled the obsession to turn deadly.”

“I was wondering how someone like that could make it all the way through medical school without being flagged.”

“More likely than not, the diagnosis was there from childhood. His father, like mine, was fairly high ranking in the military. He could have taught him how to hide it or control it just enough to pass. Without knowing more about him, and the catalyst that set him off, we may never know the truth.”

“Maybe it was the death of his brother? Or his father?” Alex offered.

Jessie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. There was something he learned in those redacted files he was given access to when he was chosen as a medical consultant by Travis’ company. Something that set him off.”

Alex huffed. “It wasn’t just Travis’ company.”

Jessie pursed her lips but didn’t answer. That was a conversation they needed to have, but the timing wasn’t right for it.

“Speaking of,” Alex continued, “John seems to be okay. At least physically.”

“I’m going to see him in the morning. Taking him a basket of goodies from the bakery. I’ll see how he’s feeling.”

Alex nodded, sipping more of his wine. “I spoke with the Thaddeus. The Wilson’s are…shaken, to say the least. They’re putting their summer place on the market. Apparently, they’re more afraid of the mountains now than any city they’ve lived in.”

“Can’t say I blame them. How’s Tad doing?”

“He’s going to need some therapy. It’s not every day that a kid realizes he had the wool pulled over his eyes by a crazed hit man and then feels responsible for not only getting a man killed, but nearly getting his own father killed as well.”

Jessie shuddered. She didn’t envy what that family was about to go through. There were some scars that no amount of therapy could heal.

You just had to learn to live with what you’d done and learn from it.

“Well, the good news is, it appears that nothing brings a family together faster than shared trauma,” Jessie said. “Everly is determined to make things work with Thaddeus. They’re sticking together and are committed to working through their money issues.”

“That’s good to know,” Alex said. “He gestured to Jessie’s glass and held his aloft. “Just goes to show that there are all kinds of relationships out there. And the best ones are built on communication and trust.”

Jessie smiled and clinked her glass against his. “Indeed.”

The smell of approaching rain was in the air as Jessie made her way up the path to the retreat.

Lady Maya met her at the door, her usual commanding presence softened by something that might have been pride. “I’m glad you came back,” she said, leading Jessie into the familiar room with its rich burgundy walls and scattered cushions.

“Thank you for seeing me. I needed to understand,” Jessie replied, settling onto one of the floor pillows. “Something happened when you bound me. It became more than just learning what I might have needed to face Remy.”

Lady Maya nodded slowly, choosing her words with care. “Trauma leaves its marks on our minds, not just our bodies. And once it finds its way into the deepest recesses of our being, it has a way of hiding, of going dormant. But still showing up in unexpected ways that can make us no longer fully trust our bodies. When you experienced being bound in a safe environment, under controlled conditions, it allowed you to process that trauma differently.”

“But why?” Years of questioned memories were carried in those two words. “It triggered so much panic. But something else as well.”

“Because trauma response isn’t just about fear - it’s about control.” Lady Maya’s fingers traced patterns in the air, illustrating her point. “When you were bound here, you had agency. You chose to surrender control, and in doing so, you reclaimed it. It was something unique and new to your body, so it responded in a different way. It’s a way that you can have control of.”

Jessie thought about the moment in the boathouse. What Remy did to her should most likely have triggered a catatonic episode. One that would have resulted in John’s death and probably her own. “I could feel the difference between what you did and what Remy did to me.”

“His rope work was about dominance, about causing fear.” Lady Maya’s voice hardened slightly. “What I teach is about trust, about finding strength in vulnerability.” She paused, studying Jessie’s face. “The strongest bonds aren’t the ones forced upon us,” she said. “They’re the ones we choose to forge, to maintain, to strengthen through trust and understanding.”

“There are things in my past that I need to confront. Things that have made my own body betray me at crucial moments. I think I’m ready to deal with that…find a way through.”

“It’s time for you to truly take control, Jessie Night. And I am honored to be a small part of helping you do that.” Lady Maya looked up at the sound of footsteps behind them. And I am pleased you brought someone you trust to aide in this journey.”

Jessie looked up as John Bartley entered the room. “Sorry I’m a little late.” He folded himself into a sitting position next to them.

“No one is ever late on their journey to help another,” Lady Maya said. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the two of them. “Now. Shall we begin?”

46

Thank You and More

Thank you so much for taking the time to read the latest installment of Jessie’s story. If you’re interested, book 6 is available for pre-order at this time!

In book 6, Jessie and Alex will be tackling a serial arsonist who is determined to reveal some of Pine Haven’s most deeply buried secrets. Even if that means burying the mountain in ash to accomplish their goals:

In the rugged shadows of Pine Haven’s mountains, something far deadlier than memories is going up in flames.

There's a serial arsonist on the loose, and when one of the historic lodges in Pine Haven burns to the ground, a gruesome discovery is found in the ashes. A discovery that will scorch away secrets held for generations.

Jessie, Alex, and Blizzard are joined by Korr Woods, an enigmatic smoke jumper with secrets of his own, as they hunt someone that revels in doing the unthinkable.

As they dig deeper dig deeper into the mind of a madman, each new clue reveals a tangle of secrets linking century-old photographs, long-buried family feuds, and whispered conspiracies that have shaped Pine Haven’s history.  

But as more fires burn, more layers of the truth are stripped away.

What they uncover threatens to ignite a generations-spanning conspiracy that could consume everyone involved. Now Jessie, Alex, and one of Pine Haven’s most decorated heroes must race to unravel a deadly plot—before it’s written in blood and seared into the town’s legacy forever.

Some family legacies are written in blood. Others are erased by fire.

Pre-order now at:

Echoes In The Night - Jessie Night Thriller Book 6

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“Ember Scott is an author of thrillers and mysteries living in the great state of North Carolina. He is a lover of dogs, mountains, lakes…and some people.

He loves to create tale about very bad people that do very bad things and ultimately get their comeuppance.

If you like fast paced thrillers that are built around unforgettable characters, then this is the author for you.

He can be reached at:

sendfox.com/emberscottauthor

emberscottauthor@gmail.com