Page 30 of The Hanging Dolls (Zoe Storm #1)

TWENTY-NINE

Zoe was back doing what she hated the most.

Meeting families of loved ones lost to violence.

The house was a modest, single-story structure, the kind that had seen better days.

The lawn was overgrown, the weeds choking what little grass remained.

The windows, though clean, were covered with heavy curtains, blocking out any glimpse inside.

It was a house that seemed to want to be left alone, much like its owner.

As they approached the front door, Zoe noticed the faint smell of stale cigarettes and something else—metallic and sharp, like fear. She exchanged a quick glance with Aiden before knocking. The door creaked open almost immediately, and Logan stood staring at them.

Logan was in his late forties, his hair thinning and streaked with gray, and his eyes bloodshot, with dark circles beneath them. His hands trembled slightly, one of them clutching a cigarette, the other a beer bottle.

“Mr. Bennett,” Zoe began softly, “we’re very sorry for your loss. But we need to talk.”

Logan nodded, his expression blank, as if he hadn’t really heard her.

He stepped aside to let them in. The inside of the house was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of cigarettes and negligence.

The living room was cluttered with old furniture, magazines stacked haphazardly on a coffee table, and empty beer bottles scattered across the floor.

Tara’s picture hung on the wall. She had dressed as Dorothy for Halloween. It was the only bright spot in the house.

“Sit down if you want,” Logan muttered, collapsing into an old armchair that groaned under his weight. Zoe and Aiden took a seat on the worn-out sofa across from him.

“We appreciate you talking with us, Logan,” Aiden said, his tone measured. “We understand this must be an incredibly difficult time.”

Logan took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he stared at the floor. “Yeah, well… what do you want?”

Zoe braced herself. “Logan, we’re trying to understand more about what might have happened. We need to ask you about some payments that have been going into your account every month from a company called Global Holdings Inc. Can you tell us about this company?”

Logan’s eyes snapped up, narrowing as he looked between them. His grip on the beer bottle tightened. “What’s that got to do with Tara? You think money’s got anything to do with my little girl?”

“We’re just trying to get the full picture,” Aiden said calmly. “We’re not accusing you of anything. We just need to know if these payments are connected in any way to what happened.”

Logan’s face flushed with anger. He slammed the beer bottle down on the armrest, causing Zoe to flinch. “You come here, into my home, and start throwing around accusations? My daughter’s dead, and all you care about is some goddamn money?”

“Logan, we’re not accusing you,” Zoe said, keeping her voice steady. “We’re just trying to find out the truth.”

“The truth?” Logan spat. “The truth is that you have no goddamn idea what’s going on. You couldn’t save Lily, you couldn’t save Tara, and you sure as hell won’t be able to save the next girl. You have no idea who’s behind all this. Just chasing your own tails.”

A cold nub settled in the pit of Zoe’s stomach. How was a killer able to leave clean crime scenes in a place like Harborwood which never witnessed violent crimes like this?

“Mr. Bennett, we need to follow up on anything that looks suspicious?—”

“ Suspicious ?” he barked, his eyes blazing.

He stood up abruptly and paced the room, his agitation growing with each step.

Zoe could see the strain in his movements, the barely contained rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“So you want to pin this whole thing on me? Is that how you save your incompetent asses?”

“We’re not pinning anything on you, Logan,” Aiden said, rising slowly from the sofa. “But we need to know where the money’s coming from, because it could be important.”

Zoe stood up, feeling the tension in the room rising. “If you know something, anything, that could help us find out who hurt Tara, you need to tell us.”

Logan turned to face them. “It’s a side hustle I have.

Freelance accounting work I do for a small company.

It has nothing to do with what happened to Tara.

You want to help?” He pointed to the door.

“Then get the hell out and find out who killed my daughter instead of wasting your time harassing someone who just lost every damn thing!”

Blood rushed to Zoe’s face. This was a bad time, but they also needed answers.

“We’re sorry for your loss, Logan,” Aiden said quietly. “If you remember anything, or if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

Logan slammed the door shut behind them with a force that made Zoe almost lose her footing. Outside, the clouds swollen with moisture had finally burst, leading to a drizzle that fell on them like little icicles. Zoe winced at the cold drops dripping down her neck.

“There’s an extra umbrella in the car,” Aiden said as they jogged down the jagged path.

“It wasn’t the best time to talk to the guy. He’s a single dad. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through,” Zoe said.

“Yeah…” he said, seemingly unaffected by the drizzle leaving spots all over his suit. “He’s lying.”

“Yeah?”

“He showed classic signs of deception. He’s hiding something. Check with the bank and see if they’re willing to cooperate and share KYC records. If not, then we’ll have to get a court order.” He opened the back door of the car, retrieved the umbrella and handed it to Zoe.

“Thanks.” She bit her lip.

“Why don’t you head to the station? I have an errand to run.”

“Errand?”

He tried to maintain his composure. “Between you and me, this case has been hard on Chief Hunter. He’s already been under a lot of pressure from Mayor Hicks and I think his teenage son has been playing up. I want to offer an ear.”

“Yeah. Of course. You take the car. I’ll call a cab.”

Zoe watched his car race away and cast her eyes on the lush, wet greenery surrounding her, the tip of a snow-capped mountain visible in the sky. Her chest tightened, thinking about the scars this case would leave on Harborwood.

When darkness falls…

Zoe went over and over the words, almost willing the letters to rearrange themselves to reveal a clue or the killer’s identity. There was an end to this. Three ropes, three nooses, and three victims. Why three? Why them ?

She clasped her fingers in front of her, stretching out each clue and potential lead in her mind.

The court order to obtain the list of children enrolled in the school system had come through. She was looking for girls under the age of twelve, assuming that the killer would continue his pattern of targeting prepubescent girls.

There were 475 girls under the age of twelve in Harborwood.

Apart from the names Helena and Maia having something to do with light, Zoe had no idea how many other names meant light or anything to do with light.

She let out a growl and sat back on her chair.

An ache began hammering at the side of her head, like a woodpecker.

Terri, a patrol officer, poked her head in. “There’s someone to see you, Agent Storm.”

Zoe followed her outside to find a tall, strapping woman with short hair and a power suit standing with her arms crossed. She recognized her from the billboards around the town.

“Regina Warner.”

“Agent Storm.” Regina gave her camera-ready smile, her pearly white teeth gleaming. “It’s good to finally meet you. Chief Hunter has told me good things about you.”

“Thanks.” She shook her hand.

Regina’s eyes did a full sweep of her. And Zoe couldn’t tell if she was being judged or sniffed. It was a thin line. “I know you have been updating Mayor Hicks on your progress. But I wanted to personally ask how everything’s going.”

“Two girls are dead, Ms. Warner. It’s not looking good.”

“Of course.” Her eyebrows dipped. “I have suggested to Mayor Hicks that he should impose a curfew and dispatch more police to the schools.”

“I can’t say that’s not unreasonable considering what’s going on.”

“Well, that’s if he agrees to it.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you have any solid leads?”

“We can’t discuss that with anyone.”

“Fair enough. What kind of sick bastard does this to children and leaves cryptic messages and empty nooses?” She shuddered. “Makes me sick to my stomach. I hope you catch him. And if there’s anything I can do to help then please let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Regina turned around and walked away, her heels clanging on the floor and echoing in the empty hallway.

Something Regina had said snagged in her brain. How did she know about the messages and the ropes? As far as Zoe was aware, that information hadn’t been made public.

When she turned, she almost walked into a wall. It was Scott. “Was that Regina Warner?” he asked, looking over her head.

“How does she know details about the crime scene? Like the nooses and all?” She asked, hitching her thumb in Regina’s direction.

He shrugged. “It’s a small town, Zoe. Uniform, rangers, they’re probably discussing this case with their friends and family.”

Her chest deflated. Harborwood had a lot to learn. “Instruct everyone not to share any details with outsiders.”

“Why?”

“Because it encourages copycats.”

Realization crossed his face. “Right. I suppose. None of us thought that way.” His phone trilled, and when he answered Zoe watched the expression on his face change. A fierceness flashed in his eyes and his jaw hung open. “Okay… yeah. I’ll call you back with the team. Sure. Thanks.”

“What happened?”

“The killer messed up,” he said with a satisfied grin. “He left DNA on the rope at Lily’s crime scene.”