Page 65 of The Hanging Dolls
Carly flinched at the accusation, her eyes flickering to Scott. The look she gave him was desperate, like she was seeking solace and only cared about his opinion.
“You just… you never change, do you?” Scott laughed in exasperation. “Why am I not surprised that you were too busy getting laid to care about your daughter?”
“Scott!” Travis jumped to his feet. “I’m warning you.”
But Scott’s eyes were locked on Carly. Zoe had never seen Scott like this—his edges so sharp and callous, his eyes burning with ruthlessness. There was not a tinge of empathy.
“Why?” Scott finally tore his eyes away from Carly and stared at Travis. “She knows what’s happening in this town. Everyparent is being careful. Are we really surprised, Travis? Don’t we bothknowher very well?”
“Take a walk.Now.”
Scott stormed out of the office so fast that Zoe felt a rush of air in his wake.
“I… I didn’t realize the time, Travis. I know, I know it’s my fault. B-but…” Carly gulped. “I don’t know what to do.”
“This is Agent Zoe Storm and Dr. Aiden Wesley from the FBI,” Travis said, ignoring her last remark. “They will work closely with you. I think it’s best to keep you and Scott away from each other.”
Carly’s teary eyes flitted to Zoe and Aiden in surprise, as if she hadn’t noticed them until now.
“Carly, I’ll do everything I can,” Zoe said earnestly. “Have you noticed anyone suspicious around Lucy? A man being extra friendly or watching her?” Carly shook her head. “Did Lucy ever mention anything to you? A new friend?” She shook her head again.
Zoe wasn’t surprised. There was a harebrained way in which Carly carried herself. A lack of conviction and control that she normally saw in parents. As she took her statement, Carly looked even more lost. A single mother who wasn’t ready to be one. But there was an innocence in her eyes, likeshewas the child in this situation. Like she’d had Lucy because she needed someone.
“How often does Lucy go to her friend’s place?”
“Every other day, same time. This is her picture.” She pulled a small picture from her wallet and wiped away tears. “I thought… I thought you might need it.”
“Definitely.” Zoe brushed her finger over it. A mirror image of Carly.
Carly blinked, her mouth open like she was thinking of what to say. “What do I do now?”
Zoe couldn’t reply. Her thoughts were tail spinning. Instead Travis escorted Carly out, assuring her that they would do everything to find her daughter.
When Travis returned, he sighed. “We can’t be sure if Lucy was taken by the killer.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s Carly.” Travis shrugged. “She has a lot of clients. It’s possible that Lucy was abducted by a jilted lover instead of the serial killer.”
Or maybe Lucy was the final victim. The third girl for the third noose. The killer’s final target before, in his words,darkness falls.
THIRTY-SIX
The rain pounded against the windshield, each drop a drumbeat. The wipers struggled to keep up, barely clearing Travis’s view of the slick road ahead. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, the pain in his chest a constant, gnawing reminder of the chaos unraveling.
What was he doing? When did that darkness engulf him? His mind and body were on different paths. There were times he would lose track of what was real and what wasn’t. Dr. Melissa hadn’t prescribed him any medication—yet. She wanted him to keep a journal of his thoughts and feelings. She thought the problem was him bottling everything up too much.
She had only scratched the surface.
But right now, there was something else that was bothering him—Ryan.
His son had been acting strangely—too quiet, disappearing for hours without explanation. It wasn’t like him. And now, Travis was tailing Ryan through the rain-soaked streets, trying to keep his distance while the knot of dread tightened in his gut.
Up ahead, Ryan’s car turned into a dimly lit alley, its taillights glowing like ominous red eyes in the night. Travis slowed, his heart hammering as he watched his son’s car cometo a stop in front of a run-down building. The kind of place that made Travis’s stomach churn with foreboding.
What was he doinghere? He was only seventeen.
Ryan stepped out of the car, his feet splashing through the puddles, hood up against the rain, and moved toward a group of shadowy figures huddled near the building.
