Page 7 of Branded Souls (Ember Hollow Romance #3)

Skye

M y vision was bleary from staring at the computer screen, but I’d been so engrossed that I hadn’t found a point where I wanted to stop.

Hours had passed by as I sifted through the sheer amount of information on the thumb drive.

Private and sensitive information was redacted, but a treasure trove of data remained.

Field reports, evidence logs, crime scene descriptions, interviews, and a few less graphic crime scene photos all kept me busy and distracted from the thoughts of my past.

A new song from my playlist blasted in my earbuds as I took a sip of my cold tea.

My stomach rumbled. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since I’d eaten, but I was starving.

Still, I shifted on the uncomfortable wooden chair at the tiny cabin dining table.

The window had thankfully been fixed in the bedroom earlier today, but there wasn’t a desk or anything in there.

The only place to work was the table. Which was fine, but I might look into ordering a pad or something for this damn chair. My ass was going numb .

My cursor tracked across the screen as a new file caught my attention. My brows pinched as I leaned forward, making sure I was reading it right.

“Other suspected victims—Not confirmed.”

My attention pricked at this. I supposed it made sense there were cold cases they’d linked to the infamous serial killer, but I hadn’t heard about them.

Not yet.

I clicked on the file, a small thrill shooting through me. I could taste the excitement of exclusivity on my tongue.

Inside the file, it looked like there were three unsolved murder cases. A lot more information was redacted in these files, but there were still crime scene photos, basic case information, and reports. Only one of the victims in the file had been identified, and the other two were Jane Does.

I bit at the side of my thumb, ignoring the sting from the raw skin as I went through the first two cases.

The third one made me pause.

She was an unidentified twenty-five-year-old, slightly older than usual for the Shadow Stalker. Most of his victims were in their late teens, early twenties. College students.

With caution, I opened the few crime scene photos. It bothered me to see them. Even though I’d witnessed a lot of similar content in my work, it never ceased to turn my stomach.

The face of the woman had been censored in the pictures. It didn’t take away from the gruesomeness.

My stomach twisted as a close-up of the woman’s hands flashed on my screen. She had been bound, which was common for the Shadow Stalker, but he didn’t usually leave the bindings behind. I squinted, zooming in on what was wrapped around her wrists to try to identify the bindings.

My heart thumped. Adrenaline spiked so fast it felt like fire zinging through my veins. My breathing hitched as a wave of familiarity washed over me.

The woman wore a bracelet. It was a thin, cheap little thing. Nothing more than a few worn strings braided together, as if by a child.

The room spun as I zoomed into the photo even more.

It was exactly the kind of thing I had made once…

But it couldn’t be the same. There were thousands of homemade bracelets that must have looked exactly like it.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen, desperately trying to swallow down my panic. I had to be rational. But I frantically clicked on the next photo anyway. A slightly different angle of the woman’s wrists popped up.

Then, I saw it.

Her wrists appeared to be bound with some sort of wire cable, but peeking out slightly above the binding was a glint of silver. Secured to the homemade bracelet was what looked like the tip of a tiny bent wing of a bird charm.

It felt like the room didn’t have enough air as I stared at the barely visible charm. I knew it was a bird because I’d picked it out specifically for that bracelet.

My hands shook as the memory pulled me in.

I was seven, and had been collecting quarters for what felt like ages.

Every time my mother dragged us to the store, I’d put one into the small machine they had sitting out front.

I’d say a little prayer every time that I’d get the charm I wanted…

the silver sparrow. When it finally happened, I’d been so excited.

I squealed and opened the little plastic ball.

I’d been so impatient to see the thing up close that when I popped open the plastic container, the charm flew out and fell to the ground.

My brother accidentally stepped on it and I’d cried because the wing had gotten bent.

He did his best to try to fix it, but he could never get it fully straightened out.

Tears filled my eyes as I looked at that tiny bent wing.

I shook my head, abruptly standing from the desk. My chair about toppled over behind me as I stumbled away from my computer. This couldn’t be real.

I had to be remembering wrong.

I grabbed for my phone, almost dropping it through my numb fingers.

I shoved my hand into my back pocket, retrieving the detective’s business card, and dialed his number.

My chest heaved with uncontrolled breaths as it rang.

Calm down.

“Detective Whize.” He sounded all business, nothing like the man I’d met out on the street earlier today.

“Hi.” My voice sounded strangled and soft. “This is Skye Adler.”

“Oh.” His tone instantly lifted. “Hey, Skye. It’s good to hear from you.”

I glanced back at my computer screen, my heart jumping into my throat again at the sight displayed there.

“Is everything all right?” Whize asked, when I didn’t immediately reply .

“What can you tell me about a file on the thumb drive about suspected Shadow Stalker victims?” I said it quickly, talking so fast my words almost stumbled over each other.

He paused.

I spun away from my computer and started to pace around the small cabin kitchen.

“Suspected victims, huh?” He paused again, and it took everything in me not to snap at him. This felt like an urgent situation, even though I knew that it wasn’t. “Uh, what do you want to know?”

I clenched my back teeth, pulling in a steadying breath through my nose. “There’s a Jane Doe listed there. She was twenty-five.” I muttered out the date she was found and the few things that were listed in the case file. For the first time, I realized there wasn’t an evidence log.

“I’d have to look it up. I’m not totally sure off the top of my head—”

“I can’t find an evidence log,” I snapped.

He gave another too long pause. “With a case that old, maybe someone simply forgot to digitize it.”

I bristled. “How fast can you find the information?”

“Are you—” He sounded completely uncomfortable. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

I stopped my incessant pacing. No, everything was not okay. “Yes,” was what I spat into the phone.

It wasn’t his fault; I knew that. I shouldn’t expect him to memorize every detail of these cases.

I was probably overreacting, but it was hard not to at the moment.

“Hey.” Detective Whize’s voice shifted to a soft and steady tone. “I want to help you, okay? I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on. ”

My hand gripped the phone so tight my fingers ached. Briefly, I closed my eyes. I let out a calming breath, but it didn’t help much. “I found something in one of the crime scene photos that I wanted to get some more information about.”

“Okay.” His voice was still quiet, almost soothing. “I can get you any information I have. Let me know what you need.”

My fingernail dug into the side of my thumb, and I felt blood well. “All right,” I murmured. “I’ll send you an email.”

I didn’t wait for him to reply before I hung up. I needed a moment to calm down. He needed time to get the information.

I shouldn’t be freaking out.

But as I looked back at my computer, I couldn’t help thinking. Couldn’t stop my mind from reeling.

Because I had given that exact bracelet to my mother before she abandoned my family twenty-nine years ago.