Page 31

CHAPTER THIRTY

Tyson, Hobbes, and Mike—his head of security—reviewed all the security footage from the past twenty-four hours.

At approximately three a.m. last night, the footage went black for thirty minutes.

That must have been when someone left that mask.

But how they had gotten inside was still a mystery.

Tyson supposed someone skilled enough could have scaled the fence and gotten to the house without being noticed.

Had someone accidentally left a door unlocked?

With so many people in and out, it was a possibility.

Mike promised to be even more vigilant, but Tyson was liking this less and less all the time.

After their discussion, Tyson went into his office and called Detective Scarborough to give him the update. The detective said he’d send an officer over to check for prints. Tyson doubted they would find anything.

“Any leads as to who left those flowers?” Tyson started.

Normally, he’d inquire about the threats against the school. But now those were practically forgotten—Olivia’s safety was more important.

“Unfortunately, we haven’t found anything yet,” the detective said. “We’ll let you know when we do.”

“Have you talked to the FBI Special Agent up in New York?” Tyson assumed he had, and that was why Special Agent Harris had called Olivia. But he figured he’d ask to confirm.

“We did. We’re both digging deeper into this.”

“Thanks, Detective. I appreciate all you’ve done.”

“I wish we could do more. Make sure you let us know if Ms. Montgomery gets more flowers. This isn’t something she should ignore.”

Tyson shifted in his desk chair. “Have you figured out anything about the flowers?”

“Based on the bloom structure, they appear to be homegrown.”

“Bloom structure?”

“Garden roses tend to have more ruffled, rounded petals.”

“Learn something new every day . . .” Tyson murmured.

“I checked in with all the local shops, just in case. I didn’t find any links.”

Tyson bit back his disappointment. “Of course.”

After agreeing to keep each other informed, they ended the call.

Glancing across his desk he spotted his Bible and opened it. It was time to take everything to God in prayer.

He couldn’t carry this burden alone any longer.

* * *

That evening, Olivia closed her bedroom door, double-checking that it was locked before moving to the window.

Outside, security lights illuminated Tyson’s property, the silhouettes of guards visible at strategic points around the perimeter.

The clock read 9:14 p.m.—not too late to make calls.

She settled at the small desk in the corner, opening her laptop and pulling out her notebook. Inside were the details she’d gathered on the three unsolved murders that had caught her attention—women found in shallow graves around a week after disappearing. One in Maine, one in Virginia, one in Ohio.

She needed to follow up with her contacts.

She dialed the first number on her list.

“Montgomery, you do realize what time it is, right?” The voice that answered was gruff but not unfriendly.

“Hello to you too, Marcus.” Despite everything, Olivia found herself smiling.

Marcus Chen had been her most reliable source during her years as a crime reporter. Now a senior investigative journalist with the Associated Press, he had connections throughout law enforcement.

“I was wondering when you’d call back. Your messages were cryptic.”

“I needed to be careful.” She switched to speaker and pulled up her notes. “Did you look into those cases I asked about?”

“I did.” The sound of typing came through the line. “And you’re right—there are similarities that should have raised flags. But the cases were spread across three states with different jurisdictions.”

Olivia’s heart quickened. “Tell me.”

“All three victims were kept somewhere underground before being killed. All three had traces of soil under their fingernails that didn’t match where their bodies were found. All three had small puncture marks on their necks and thighs—some kind of injection.”

“Like sedatives.” Olivia subconsciously touched her thigh, the place where she’d been injected by The Admirer.

“Exactly.” More typing. “There’s something else—something that wasn’t released to the public.”

She tensed. “What?”

“Rose petals. In their lungs.”