Page 93 of If You're Reading This

The aurora forecast was perfect, and it matched the conditions from one of Morgan’s most popular pieces. The sky had really been putting on a show lately. Oftentimes, it was too cloudy to see the northern lights. But they’d had a streak of clear skies recently.

Logan and his team would get to the area early, set up properly, and cover all the approaches. This time there would be no surprises, no hostages, and no leverage for the killer to exploit.

He poured himself a cup of coffee then checked his watch.

He had time to review the tactical plans once more before meeting the team. Duke had mapped out sight lines, Ranger had identified the best sniper positions, and Andi—despitethe ordeal at Borealis Lake—had insisted on coordinating surveillance equipment.

His phone rang.

Logan glanced at the caller ID and felt his stomach tighten. Reeves. At six in the morning.

This couldn’t be good news.

He answered, putting his phone on speaker and leaving it on the counter. “Gibson here.”

“Logan, I need you at Chena Lake.” Reeves’ voice was strained, lacking her usual professional composure. “Now.”

He squinted. “We were planning to head there tonight. The killer’s next target should be?—”

“Logan.” The way she said his name stopped him cold. “There’s been another victim.”

The coffee mug almost slipped from Logan’s hand, but he caught it in time. “What do you mean another victim? We had surveillance on all the potential targets. We were watching?—”

“Just get here.”

“Is it Morgan?” He held his breath as his question hung suspended in the air.

He almost didn’t want to hear the answer.

“No, it’s not Morgan,” Reeves answered. “But come now. Bring your friends if you need to.”

The line went dead.

Logan stared at his phone, his mind racing.

Another victim meant they’d missed something.

Another victim meant the killer had outmaneuvered them again.

But how?

They’d accounted for every possible target, every person who’d shown interest in Morgan.

Had they missed something?

His hands tightened into fists.

Wasting no more time, he grabbed his keys and jacket. He’d call Duke, Andi, and Ranger on the drive.

Whatever had happened at Chena Lake, it had rattled Reeves badly enough to call him at dawn.

That alone told Logan everything he needed to know about how bad this was going to be.

The scene at Chena Lake was controlled chaos at best.

Crime scene tape fluttered in the morning breeze, and Logan counted at least six vehicles in the parking area—three state trooper vehicles, the coroner’s van, plus Duke’s and Ranger’s vehicles. They’d been closer to the location than Logan.

Reeves met him at the tape perimeter, her face pale in the early morning light. Duke, Andi, and Ranger stood nearby, their expressions grim.