Page 51 of Run for Her Life
“What is it?” Aiden asked.
Zoe’s eyes thinned and her mind sharpened. “Remember Jackie’s neighbors reported a red Prius outside her place and some shouting?”
“Yeah…”
“Guess who owns a red Prius. Amy.”
The car glided through the empty, monotonous streets of Pineview Falls. Zoe didn’t know if it was an adjustment period going from a city girl to living in a dead town, or if there was something truly sinister or dull about such places that sucked the joy out of everything.
She brought the car to a sudden stop at the red light.
“Sorry,” she said to Aiden.
“Don’t worry about it.” He had been engrossed in his phone since she’d picked him up from the station.
“Did you find anything at Jackie’s?” she asked.
“Not yet.” He scowled, putting his phone away. “But I’ve asked Ethan to bring in her trash. I’ll sift through it.”
“You really think there’s something in her apartment?”
“Since the killings are related to the big fire, I’m certain she must know something. Is that why she was chosen? There are a lot of people working on the project. There has to be a reason why Annabelle and Jackie were the victims.” He scratched his head, thinking out loud.
Zoe held back a smile. Aiden was always measured and deliberate around her. Every word that came out of his mouth, every movement he made, came off as rehearsed and planned. Unlike her, who talked and acted out of impulse. It felt good to know that Aiden could also think out loud and didn’t always speak with certainty.
“Amy has another link to both,” Zoe pointed out. “She wasn’t super close with Jackie. Jackie was working for her competitor. Do you think Amy fits the profile?”
“Originally I had us looking at a male offender, probably between twenty-five and forty years old. He’s methodical, structured. This level of planning doesn’t come from someone impulsive or reckless. He’s intelligent, definitely above average. Socially detached. Not a recluse, but distant. Financially stable. Likely not close with family, not estranged, but emotionally distant. Few or shallow relationships. He can interact socially but prefers online engagement. An architect who wants to shape the experience and wants full control. But two people potentially fit that profile if we disregard sex.”
“Amy and Adam,” she said. “The killer hunted Annabelle down after shooting her with darts dripping with adrenaline, leading to a heart attack. I’m assuming the same thing happened with Jackie.”
“The killer is fixated on the original incident, not just as a tragedy, but as an event that is significant to them personally. Maybe they believe the event was incomplete, flawed, or not executed properly… maybe they wanted to be the one to execute it properly this time.”
“Is that why the killer sent me Michael’s hair?” She swallowed hard. “He was hinting at being unhappy with the past?”
“You know who could potentially have access to Michael’s hair? Jackie’s step-sister Amy.”
The car hummed under her as she breezed through the freeway. The evening sky unfolded in layers—burnt orange to deep indigo. The last glimmers of sunlight pooled into the horizon and stars began winking into existence.
And then a flash in the mirror.
A car. Didn’t she see the same car three turns ago? Maybe she wouldn’t have thought twice if it had passed her once, maybe even twice. But every time she switched lanes, it did too. Every time she slowed, it kept its distance—close enough to shadow, far enough to not raise alarm. But she wasn’t a casual spectator, was she? A bad feeling took hold of her.
She slowed down suddenly so that the car could get close enough for her to read the license plate. It was the same one from the other day. The one registered to Darren Galanis.
Her pulse spiked.
“What is it, Storm?” Aiden asked. “Why are you driving erratically?”
“We’re being tailed.”
“What?” He looked over his shoulder. He said something but she didn’t hear. She was laser-focused. This was her chance. She took the next exit and as expected the car was right behind. Her heart jackhammered.
She flicked her blinker right. A test move. Nothing ahead, just an empty side street. The tailing car hesitated, then mirrored her turn. Without warning, she jerked her wheel to the left, hard, cutting across two lanes. The tires shrieked against the pavement as she veered into an empty parking lot.
He had followed her.
“Jesus Christ, Storm. We should call for backup!”
