Page 64 of Run for Her Life
“Yes. Obviously. It’s a dog. It smelled something and went sniffing around.” A moment of hesitation, his smugness withering. “He might have swallowed something he found.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ. The crime scene was tampered with. Do you realize how serious this offense is, Adam?”
“I’m sorry! I told you I was in shock and I struggled to control Aesop before I finally dragged him out of there! But I think he was sniffing around the pockets of her jeans quite a bit.” He pulled out his phone and after a couple swipes, showed them an image. “This came out in his excretion this morning. I didn’t recognize it but I think Jackie had it on her.”
Zoe and Aiden stared at the photo of a keychain, a piece of paper inserted into it withINV-W7-D4-1553written on it.
“Is that a fob or what?” Aiden wondered out loud.
He shrugged. “No idea. It’s not mine. It must be Jackie’s. I don’t know what it means. I was hoping to find out for myself—that’s why I kept it.”
Zoe stared at Adam. His colorful flamboyance that once eclipsed the station had gone, replaced with desperation.
“Agent Storm, Dr. Wesley,” he said. “I wouldn’tkillanyone for a story. For starters, I’m only good with words and reading people.” His eyes zeroed in on Zoe. “Like I can look at you and know that you carry shame that you hide behind your infectious, dimpled smile.” Zoe flushed red. Adam looked at Aiden. “And I can sense that you know deep loss and struggle to be understood. But I’m not smart enough to get away with murder. And the worst nightmare for any writer is never being able to write again.”
Zoe held the evidence in the palm of her hand. INV-W7-D4-1553. What did it mean?
THIRTY-NINE
Adam’s words clung to Zoe like an itchy blanket.
Shame.
The shame of being stupid enough to listen to Rachel, clean up her crime scene, and then lie to Gina festered inside her like something rotten her body was constantly trying to expel. But it couldn’t. No matter how happy and content she was, the shame was a permanent resident, slowly swelling and expanding until there was only one thing left to do. She cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders. Her body was still sore from the beating she’d deliberately taken.
“What are you thinking?” Aiden offered her coffee. She took it and didn’t answer. “Storm… what we talked about?—”
“Don’t.” She looked at him. He stood innocently, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, one hand in his pocket, thick glasses resting on an aristocratic nose. It bothered her how polished he was. “I just want to focus on the case, if that’s okay.”
He nodded after what seemed like forever. “I have to head out. I’m due in court in a couple hours.”
“Oh?”
“Another case I was on. Have to testify.” He picked up his coat. “I’ll see you later?”
She nodded, returning to her pile of folders. She felt his gaze linger on her before he finally walked away. She released a sigh of relief that loosened some of her knots.
The station was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. A silence built from exhaustion, the type that made everyone double-check everything, waiting for the moment something would crack open.
She sat at her desk, rolling her pen between her fingers, her eyes locked on to the forensic report.
Both Annabelle and Jackie had been targeted with hunting darts. The darts were the only element that was introduced by the killer—by Jackie and then adopted by the person who used it on Jackie. According to Aiden, the darts were meant to make them feel like they were part of the game, like an active player.
She studied Jackie’s picture. What pushed her to torture and murder a friend? She had no priors, no history of any known mental illnesses, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a darkness growing inside her slowly. She was isolated from her family, didn’t have any close friends, no boyfriend or girlfriend. All that time she spent deeply marinating in the massacre with nothing to lift her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Zoe dropped the picture and shot a message to Gina.
Z: I will come see you after this case wraps up.
Gina’s reply was instant.
G: YESSS.
A smile tugged on her lips and she returned to the notes. Based on the dimensions of the bruise, the forensic team had identified a potential candidate that was a perfect match. A slim metal shaft that looked light but weighted. Balanced. Built forprecision. The barbed tip gleamed, sharp enough to bite into flesh.
A voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re staring at that report like it’s about to confess.”
“Lisa…” Zoe hesitated. “We haven’t had a chance to talk and I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m really sorry.”
