Page 67 of Beneath the Light of the Moon

Dread swelled in Mikko’s gut as he looked from Ivan’s motionless body to Joseph.

“They’reyours,I hear,” the older man continued.

Silence stretched taut between them.

Mikko crept closer, the plastic’s glare making it hard to discern the keys inside completely. But Mikko didn’t have to see them, he already knew.

And once the glare was gone…

Mikko’s jaw clamped down.

Sure enough, there inside the bag was a set of Audi car keys. The small golden locket containing a photo of him and his mother inside glinted in the lights like a taunt. At least now he knew where they went, and why they’d been stolen from his penthouse in the first place. And he knew who’d done it…now he had to corner her and prove it.

“Do you know why your keys would beinsidethe victim’s body?” Joseph asked. His insinuation wasn’t lost on Mikko, his own deductions pointing at him too if he’d been in an outsider’s shoeswitnessing this.

But, for once, Mikko hadn’t committed this atrocity.

“If I did, do you think I’d be standing here letting you interrogate me like a second class citizen?” Mikko asked coldly.

The idea of someone toying with him was driving him up the wall, all while Joseph thought he knew everything because the bodies he dissected “told stories.”

Undeterred by Mikko’s unfriendly response, Joseph continued. “Can’t blame me for askin’ though, can you?”

Mikko shook his head.

“The police were also curious, but once they discovered the keys were yours, their motivation disappeared…” Not surprising since more than half of the police force were in his pockets, doing his bidding on the side. Joseph let his words, a terribly veiled threat, hang in the air while he pulled the sheet back up over Ivan’s face.

Pivoting to face a line of casework along one wall in the room, Joseph placed the bag containing Mikko’s Audi keys into a bin inside one of the many drawers. Stepping back, Joseph locked it before letting the key slip back amongst the others at his waist. The cheerful jingle was at odds with everything else surrounding the men.

Joseph’s suspicion wasn’t misdirected, Mikko understood that, but it still irked him. “If it helps at all, I’m just as perplexed as to why my keys ended up in his body,” Mikko said.

“I want to believe you,” Joseph responded, but he still sounded apprehensive.

Cristiano piped up. “Did this incision also occur after he died?”

“I believe so. There was little blood or bruising marring the stitches which means Ivan’s heart wasn’t pumping anymore. Regardless, it was a decently precise cut like the person knew what they were doing and had either sedated the victim or restrained them while performing the act.”

Mikko interjected. “Or had they already killed them?”

Joseph nodded solemnly. “Perhaps, it’s someone in your line of work?”

The insinuation made Mikko’s gut clench, a small wave of frustration curling around his heart. “While our line of work deals with death and blood just as much as yours does, we don’t deal in precision. It’s cutthroat, efficiency over cleanliness. Now, your field…that’s a place we could start.” Mikko knew his emotions were getting the best of him, but the words slipped off his tongue before he could stop them.

He was tired of feeling out of control, but that seemed to be the only sense of structure he had left anymore—continuously grasping at the grains of sand slipping through his fingertips.

Mikko needed to find out why Anika was framing him. Andfast.

22

Death Waits for No One

Mikko - 22 Years Ago

Small, bright sprigs of grass poked through the dirt, defying the fickle embrace of spring. Despite the temperatures remaining frigid, the seeds had managed to take root, springing up through the soil in a blatant retaliation.

Their perseverance was something Mikko envied.

Remnants of dried flower bouquets littered the ground, hiding the rest of the earth he knew was underneath. They blanketed his mom, or what was left of her.