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“What happened here, officer?” I ask.
“Female tourist was found strangled.”
“Any idea who did it?”
The cop stares at me intently as if trying to decipher my reason for wanting information. “If you ask me, it’s the Phantom Strangler.” He shrugs. “But there’s no official statement about that yet.”
“Officer Park!” a man in a suit shouts as he approaches, an evidence bag in his hand. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop speculating about the perpetrator to looky-loos?” He shifts his eyes to me. “I’m Detective Simmons. Do you have information to add to this investigation?”
As he speaks, his hands are moving, and he drops the evidence bag on the ground. I bend to pick it up, and when I see what’s inside, my blood runs cold.
“Something wrong, sir?” the detective asks.
I shove the bag in his face. “Where’d you get this?”
He narrows his eyes. “It was found in the victim’s mouth.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I mutter.
“What?”
I’m screwed.
“It’s, uh, my class ring,” I admit quietly. “It was stolen from my high school girlfriend when she was killed by the Phantom in twenty-fourteen.”
“It’s yours?” Detective Simmons asks. “You’re sure?”
I nod.
Before I realize what’s happening, I’m spun around forcefully, shoved to the ground, and my arms are yanked behind my back.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Brittney Cragen.”
CHAPTER 28
DELANEY
“...will be used against you in a court of law.”
The sound around me fades away as I watch the detective slap the cuffs on Thorn’s wrists and yank him off the ground. I ball my hands into fists, and a red haze clouds my vision as I step forward. A pair of strong arms pull me back into a solid chest.
“No, Delaney,” Mark whispers in my ear. “You don’t want to end up in a cell, too. We’ll get him out.”
“They have the wrong man,” I point out. “Thorn’s been with us the whole time.”
“I know.” Mark rubs his hands up and down my arms. “They won’t get away with this, I promise.”
I sag against Mark, letting him keep me from sinking to the ground. Thorn is led away, and the detective smirks as he puts his hand on Thorn’s head to guide him into the squad car.
“We got him.” Simmons’ words reach my ears, and I cringe.
“Call Soul!” Thorn hollers before the door slams. Behind the glass, I see his lips move. “I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry? What is he sorry about? I know Thorn is innocent.
I fumble with my phone, trying to pull up Soul’s contact information. The cell shakes in my hand as I hit the call button.
Soul answers on the first ring. “Hey, Dela?—”