Page 100 of Don't Shoot Me Santa

It hadn’t moved.

Aaron blurted, “What about him?”

“Ignore him.” Kenny cut the engine. “I’ll come in with you.”

“No.” Aaron shook his head. “I mean… he saw me with Skye yesterday. He wasthere, Kenny. He’s new to the island. Which means he was somewhere else before. And you said the killer would be someone in outreach.”

Kenny stayed quiet for a beat. Then, “I didn’t say they’d be new to the island. In fact, I think this place means something to them. Deeply. The mainland kills might’ve been rehearsals. Everything building towardshere.”

“But Blackwell’s in a position of power. He runs a dog charity. That’s outreach. Especially now with all these public-facing projects. He’s around volunteers, youth programmes, school visits.”

Kenny nodded, almost reluctantly. “Heisin proximity. I won’t deny that. And I’m sure he’s done more than cross the line. He’s a predator. Narcissist. There’s probably a long list of people who’ve left jobs, dropped complaints, signed NDAs. But he’s not our UNSUB.”

Aaron frowned. “What makes you so sure?”

“Besides two decades of analysing violent offenders?”

Aaron gave him a look. “Yeah. Besides that.”

“He’s too messy.” Kenny opened his door and stepped out.

Aaron followed. “Messy how?”

“If Blackwell were the killer, you wouldn’t have walked away yesterday. He’d have engineered the whole thing. Controlled the environment. Eliminated the risk. A man like that wouldn’t touch you with your partner standing ten feet away. He hadn’t even read you properly. Didn’t know who you were. Or whoIwas.” Kenny met his gaze. “Our killer doesn’t take chances. They design their silence. Manufacture obedience. They don’t lunge. Theylure.”

Aaron stared at the shelter entrance. The frost on the glass looked like spider veins, etched by the cold. Blackwell’s car sat in shadow, untouched. Quiet. As if it was watching.

“He left his car.” Aaron flapped a gloved hand towards it. “That’s still suspicious.”

“There are a dozen reasons someone might leave their car overnight. Not all of them so they could commit murder.”

“No, but if he wasangryenough, after I rejected him, maybe he saw it as punishment. Maybe she became the stand-in. Or maybe it was to upset me. My name on the phone, remember? Maybe she tried to call me because she knew it was him. Or he made her call me. You said it was a message. Maybe the message is he’s pissed off.”

“What happened in that kennel? That was impulsive. A weak, clumsy grab at power. He hadn’t planned it. He hadn’t profiled you. That’s not how this killer operates.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes. “Still don’t love you calling it clumsy.”

“I get that it might not have felt that way. But he was. Hismethods. Sloppy. Unprepared. No. That’s not this killer. They’re crafting something. Symbolic. Ritualised. Every detail means something.”

Aaron exhaled, breath fogging in the cold air. Trying to absorb it. Trying to believe it.

Kenny wasn’t finished.

“If I had to bet? Blackwell’s here because he scorched everything behind him. HR complaints. Safeguarding breaches. Whispers swept under rugs. Probably even a marriage he tanked. And now?”

Aaron reached for the shelter door, the same one he’d shot out of yesterday. “He’s circling new prey.”

Kenny stepped in close, the warmth of his body cutting through the cold. He slid his hand to the back of Aaron’s neck, tracing slow, steady lines beneath the hairline.

“But not for murder,” he said close to Aaron’s ear. “For power.”

“So we can’t arrest him?”

“We can do worse than that.”

Aaron turned his head. “What’s worse?”

“We keep showing up. Remind him he’s not in control. Lost that power he craves. That he’s been seen. And he wassloppy.”