Page 19 of The Hanging Dolls (Zoe Storm #1)

EIGHTEEN

“Do you have any fears or phobias?” Aiden read from a booklet in his lap.

“Who cares if I’m scared of spiders?” Zoe asked, exasperated. “Does that mean I would fail my psych evaluation? Get kicked off the FBI?”

His brows furrowed. “Yes, of course. Fear of spiders is a dealbreaker.”

Zoe stared at him. “Oh, you were trying to make a joke. I didn’t catch it because of your dull delivery.”

The corners of his mouth twitched as he adjusted his glasses. “So? Phobias?”

“Darkness.”

“That’s a common one.”

“And shadows,” she blurted without thinking.

That made him pause. “Shadows? What is it about shadows that you fear?”

A shiver rolled through her. “That they follow you. You can’t get rid of them.”

“Unless you’re standing directly under the sun.”

Her gaze collided with his and she understood the meaning behind his words.

Pain radiated down Zoe’s jaw as she opened her mouth to stuff it with pasta. It was too al dente and the sauce wasn’t spicy enough. But what else could she expect at the only diner that was open this late?

She observed her fellow late-night patrons in the dingy space with yellow-tiled walls and circular wooden tables with scratches and wobbly legs. Most of them were just truckers taking a break from being on the road too long. Bulky and rough-looking.

One shabbily dressed man with graying dreadlocks and a scarred face lingered at the entrance.

He swayed like he was having trouble standing.

Zoe noticed the waiter eyeing him suspiciously from behind the counter.

From the state of his bedraggled clothes, she guessed he was homeless.

There was an embarrassment on his face that twisted something inside her chest. He knew he was being watched, he was expecting to be thrown out.

But his eyes kept flying to the food on people’s tables.

“Excuse me!” Zoe called the waiter.

“How can I help you?”

“Can you charge whatever that man over there eats to my card? I’ll cover for him.”

The waiter blinked in surprise and then smiled. “Sure thing.”

She peered out the window into the dark night.

Small towns in this damn state. What she wouldn’t give to be back in a big city with twinkling lights.

She didn’t understand the appeal at all.

As her eyes bore into the swirling blackness, she realized how such towns were a manifestation of the darkest parts of her.

“What happened to you?” Aiden appeared out of nowhere, sliding across from her.

She recoiled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was hungry and saw you.” His eyes thinned, lingering on her face. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Zoe pulled her hoodie closer and pulled her thick hair across the side of her face where Bruiser had punched her. She hadn’t had time to apply any makeup. Luckily, there was no swelling since she had managed to get an icepack after the fight. “I fell down some stairs.”

“It doesn’t look like that.” His eyes were ablaze as he leaned forward to get a closer look, but she raised her hand.

“Not tonight. Please.” She was too tired.

She could tell he wanted to prod further but acquiesced.

It irked her that while she was in a hoodie that needed a wash and her hair was in a state, Aiden had somehow managed to present himself with immaculate hair and a smooth suit. “Do you sleep in a suit?”

He repeated her question. “Why would you ask me that?”

“It’s midnight, Aiden. Do you wear pajamas or sweatpants?”

The waiter arrived to take his order. “Just a cheeseburger. Thanks. Yes, Storm. I sleep in pajamas and my UPenn hoodie.”

“Show-off. I expected you to be in bed by ten. What’s keeping you up?”

He placed his elbows on the table and sighed. “The case. Children. It’s always a hard one.”

“We have seen worse,” she said softly.

“Unfortunately, we have.” He looked out the window. “I keep thinking about who the next victim might be. Did you find any leads?”

She squirted a generous amount of Tabasco on her pasta. “I have been using the school website to look into other kids with names that could mean a star or constellation. At least in Lily’s year, there were none. There are a bunch of kids who are homeschooled or go to the school on the reservation…”

“What makes you think that the next victim is Lily’s age?” he challenged.

Zoe’s mind reeled. “I… I don’t know. I guess I just assumed. But how is he selecting his next victim? On what basis? Just someone whose name means star?”

Aiden blew out a frustrated breath as his cheeseburger arrived. He scowled at the bun soaked in butter and dabbed it with a tissue paper. “What if it’s some poem or a piece of literature?”

“Huh? Poem? You think he’s artistic?”

He shrugged. “There is a disturbing creativity to the crime scene. Empty nooses arranged to indicate the number of victims. A photograph of Lily neatly tied to the rope with a lyrical prose on the reverse.”

Blasts of images of the crime scene invaded her mind.

“Right. It’s possible. Every detail is significant to him…

” The light in the diner dimmed, casting a softer glow on them, and suddenly they were the only patrons left other than the homeless man who was eating his food in a corner, keeping his head down to avoid attracting any attention.

“Why are you staring at him?” Aiden followed her gaze.

“He’s homeless.”

He frowned. “And staring at him will not make him homeless?”

“No, Aiden, I was having a moment of empathy. Which you wouldn’t understand,” she chirped, digging into her pasta.

“I’m a psychologist, you know that, right?”

“And you might be more psychotic than your patients. You know what they say,” she said, teasing him.

Aiden laughed, dimples denting his cheeks. Zoe’s phone buzzed. It was a message from Scott.

S: We need you both at the station.

“We’ve been summoned.” She wiped her mouth and pulled a bill from her wallet to leave on the table.

“At this hour?” Aiden checked his watch.

“Maybe they found something.”

They were rushing out of the diner, when Zoe turned back and saw Aiden handing a hundred-dollar bill to the homeless man. Fuzziness swarmed her chest but when Scott sent another message, the muscles in her stomach went rigid.

S: Another girl just went missing.

The rain pounded against the windshield as Zoe and Aiden pulled into the station’s parking lot, the wipers struggling to keep up with the deluge.

She was soaked by the time she sprinted from her car to the station entrance, her hoodie stuck to her skin, dripping water onto the floor as she burst through the door.

Inside, the station was humming with activity despite the late hour.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows as a handful of patrol officers huddled near the main desk, their faces tense.

Scott was leaning over a table scattered with maps and reports, his brow furrowed in concentration.

As Zoe strode toward him, an angry voice cut through the room.

“What the hell is going on here?”

She noticed a lean, short man, pacing back and forth, his face flushed with anger. Mayor Hicks.

“Another girl goes missing, and you’re telling me you’ve got nothing? This is a disaster! Do you have any idea what this is doing to the election? To my chances?”

“Great,” Aiden muttered.

Scott barely looked up as he spoke, his voice steady but strained. “We’re doing everything we can, Mayor Hicks. We’ve got patrols out, and we’re coordinating with every available resource?—”

“Not good enough!” Hicks cut him off, his eyes blazing. “This town is in a panic! If we don’t find her—if we don’t get the situation under control—there won’t be an election to worry about because there won’t be a town left to govern!”

Zoe found it difficult not to judge Hicks, when the first thing he mentioned were the elections. Scott’s nostrils were flaring and his features drawn tight. Aiden seemed to be the only one not upset by Hicks’ outburst—Zoe chalked it up to nothing really surprising him anymore about people.

She approached Scott, water still dripping from her clothes, cutting through the charged moment between them.

Scott looked relieved. “Good, you’re here. You guys need a change of clothes?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, her voice tight with urgency. “What’s the situation?”

Scott gestured to the table, where a map of Harborwood was spread out, various locations marked with red circles.

“Eight-year-old Tara Bennett went missing about an hour ago from her bedroom. We’ve got officers combing the area, but the rain’s making it difficult. And I’ve been making calls to WSP.”

“Who reported her missing?” Aiden asked.

“Her dad.” Scott gestured at a heavy man with a double chin, sitting in a corner, staring at an empty space, panic-stricken. “He’s a single father. Lives alone with the daughter.”

“He didn’t hear anything?” Aiden’s eyes narrowed at the man.

“The storm was well underway and it was way past Tara’s bedtime. He went to check on her to see if the sound of thunder had woken her up and that’s when he realized she was missing and the window was open.”

Zoe’s jaw clenched, her mind racing. “She must have been taken while she was asleep. This can’t be a coincidence. She’s almost the same age as Lily. Did they know each other?”

Hicks rounded on her. “What have you been doing since you got here? I thought the FBI knew what they were doing!”

“Mayor Hicks, why don’t you worry about your elections and let us worry about saving a kid’s life?” she spat, instantly regretting it.

Hicks’s smile was almost cruel. “You don’t have an entire town relying on you, Special Agent Storm. Being politically correct is a luxury only those without power can afford.”

“Cut it!”

Their heads turned to Travis, his muddy boots squelching as he crossed the distance, leaving a trail behind. “Screw this rain. Now’s not the time.”

Zoe nodded, unflinching despite the pressure in his voice. “The CSU needs to head to Tara’s home.”

Scott stepped in. “I called but they can’t come in until tomorrow morning because of the storm. There are two patrol officers guarding the scene to ensure there is no contamination.”

“The storm’s going to wash away any tire tracks…” Zoe cursed.

Hicks scowled but didn’t push further, instead turning to one of the officers. “Make sure the media gets the right story on this. No need for any unnecessary details.”

Zoe ignored the mayor, but the thought of waiting until tomorrow morning seemed like an eternity. She grabbed a flashlight from the supply rack, her mind already mapping out the search. “I can’t sit here. I’m heading out to her place. I’ll coordinate with the units already there.”

“You two go ahead. I’ll speak to the father and see if I can get anything out of him,” Aiden said.

Scott nodded, grabbing his own gear.

As they moved toward the door, Hicks’s voice followed them, dripping with desperation. “Find her. And make sure this doesn’t turn into another disaster.”

Zoe didn’t look back as she pushed the door open and stepped out into the storm. The rain hammered down relentlessly as she and Scott jogged toward their cars. A realization crossed her mind—Tara meant ‘star’ in Sanskrit.

Their killer had succeeded in stealing a star. And they were unable to stop him.