Page 23 of Run for Her Life
Lisa made a note of it. “I’ll ask Ethan to look into it. Her last name is Fink so probably some family member.”
“Storm! Sheriff!” Aiden’s voice came from the bedroom. They rushed back to the bedroom to find Aiden in the walk-in closet. He had swiped the clothes to one side to expose the back wall.
Zoe drew a sharp breath.
A single bulb dangled from the ceiling, oscillating and casting shadows. The entire wall was filled with newspaper clippings, photos, and handwritten notes arranged in a haphazard order. Frantic handwriting in margins, scrawled in different inks. Almost like the words were gushing out to be on the wall. Red thread connecting the notes, and maps dotted with pins. Zoe could feel the obsession spilling from the meticulousness and sheer volume of information. She ran her fingers over the wordsthat popped up the most, words that were scribbled hard enough to leave an indentation in the paper.
Pineview Falls Big Fire.
FIFTEEN
Harrington Group just can’t seem to catch a break. As if the company wasn’t already drowning in rumors of a buyout, now it has a murder attached to its name.
Annabelle Stevens, a rising star in the company’s R&D, was found murdered, buried in the woods, and while police are keeping their lips sealed tighter than a CEO at an SEC hearing, the rumor mill has already begun to churn. Stevens was ambitious, sharp, and, according to sources, knee-deep in the kind of company secrets that don’t make it into glossy press releases.
Was Annabelle simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was she another loose end in a company desperate to keep its skeletons in the closet? Harrington Group has, of course, issued the standard-issue, legally sanitized statement—thoughts and prayers, deepest condolences, full cooperation with authorities, etc., etc.
What really happened to Annabelle Stevens? Was it personal? Was it professional? Or, in the worst-case scenario for Harrington Group, was it both?
One thing’s for sure—this isn’t a story that’s going away anytime soon. Stay tuned.
The white sheet of paper in front of Zoe was the brightest thing at the station. The walls, upholstery, curtains, and files were all brown. Even the plants were turning brown from lack of sunlight. She tipped her chin to look up at the low ceiling that was pressing down on her. She felt like she was trapped in the 1970s. Even the computer was ancient, with wires extending out of it like vines and pooling at her feet.
Adam’s latest article on Annabelle’s murder was on the screen. His words echoed in her head. It was the most interesting event to have happened in Pineview Falls in a very long time. Finally, something for people to talk about and Adam sounded like that hungry opportunist who was eager to give them fodder to sink their teeth into at the dinner table.
Her phone rang. It was Simon.
“Hey,” she answered with a sigh.
“Sorry, I was in a meeting,” he replied, the sound of phones trilling in the background. “Dealing with budget cuts again. Then these assholes will blame me for cutting corners in investigations. How’s everything over there?”
She peered out the small window with bars and caught a glimpse of the watery sun barely shining through the haze. “It’s a dull afternoon. This town looks abandoned even though I know it’s not.”
He laughed. “That’s just you hating anything that isn’t a city. Remember you driving all the way to DC to de-stress when we were at Quantico?”
“They have good bakeries.”
“Tell me about it. That bakery on Wisconsin Avenue stayed in business because of me, all the times I got you croissants.”
Zoe smiled, remembering those lazy, tender mornings when Simon would arrive with her favorite treats. Then she caught herself. He might be separated but technically he was stillmarried. Was she even interested in him now? “Did you manage to get anything from that envelope and the hair?”
His tone sharpened. “Nothing yet. But I’ve asked forensics to take a closer look since there were no prints. Do you have any suspects?”
“Not yet. I’m worried that we have another woman missing—Jackie Fink.”
“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Have you received another letter?”
“No. Not yet.” She saw Aiden heading toward her, carrying a coffee tray. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Take care, Z.”
His tenderness made her pause before she hung up. Aiden fell onto the seat across from her and pushed a coffee toward her. His eyes landed on the piece of paper and narrowed with a twinkle. Zoe looked down and her throat closed. She had been mindlessly scrawling the nameEmilyon it. She screwed up the paper and tossed it away.
“Did you read Adam’s article?” Zoe changed the unspoken subject.
“I did.” He stroked his jaw. “He loves blood in water—anything that smells like a headline.”
“Do you think he’s forcing the connection with Harrington Group? Jackie has no connection with the company.”
