Page 46 of The Hanging Dolls (Zoe Storm #1)

FORTY-FIVE

Zoe pushed open the heavy wooden door of the dimly lit bar, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Scott.

He was slumped over the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey, his posture a portrait of defeat.

She had made a wild guess that he was at a bar.

This was the second one she had tried. She felt a pang of sympathy but steeled herself.

She approached him quietly, sliding onto the stool next to him. The clink of glass on wood as she set her bag down was the only sound between them for a moment. She knew he had noticed her and waited for him to break the silence. But he didn’t.

“Scott,” she began softly, trying to find the right words. “We need to talk.”

He finally turned to face her, his eyes red-rimmed. “I’m sorry about yesterday. It was very unprofessional of me to show up like that.”

Zoe swallowed, waving her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. Look, I know this is the worst time, but it’s important. It’s about Lucy.”

Scott stiffened. “What about Lucy?” His voice was rough, as if he already feared the worst.

Zoe hesitated. The words were lodged in her throat. “Scott, there’s something you need to know. I’ve been looking into a few things, and… I think you need to consider the possibility that Lucy might not be your biological daughter.”

The color drained from Scott’s face and, for a moment, Zoe thought he might pass out. He stared at her, uncomprehending. “What are you talking about? That’s… that’s…”

She felt a wave of pity for him. He had gone through a ringer this past week.

“I’m so sorry, Scott. I don’t want to hurt you, but I found some things that don’t add up.

It could be nothing, but considering your past with Carly and her ability to play with your head, I think you should do a paternity test. Just to be sure. ”

Scott’s hand trembled as he set down his glass. He looked lost, like a man suddenly cut adrift in a storm. “How… how could this happen? Why now? Why would you even look into this?”

Zoe sighed, wishing she could take away his pain.

“I didn’t want to believe it either, but there were things that didn’t make sense.

Lucy’s physical traits—it raised questions.

I thought it was better to know the truth now than to live with uncertainty.

And I don’t know how much you trust Carly to just believe her word. ”

Scott buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. “Shit.” He looked up at her, his eyes glistening with tears. “Why would Carly lie?”

Zoe squeezed his arm gently. “I’m not saying that she’s lying. But you’ve been through a lot and the last thing I want you to do is deal with this life-changing news without confirmation. Just talk to Carly and get a paternity test, okay?”

Scott stared at her for a long moment, before finally nodding. “You’re right.”

Scott’s lungs were burning. He stumbled out of the cab, his legs feeling like jelly, his blinks lazy.

But his mind was as sharp as a tick. He wasn’t drunk—well, he wasn’t that drunk.

The perks of being an alcoholic was that his tolerance was way higher.

And despite what that they say, that was a skill that was never unlearned.

His hand gripped the railing as he climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door.

His whiskey-infused breath cut through the cool night air.

He swayed, his eyes catching sight of the dense woods across the street.

Was Lucy lying in the woods somewhere? The air was choked with moisture and darkness.

He was used to these kinds of nights. As a kid, he would hike into the woods at night and camp there.

It was Harborwood. No one expected to stumble upon dead bodies.

The door opened and Carly’s tear-stained face appeared. “Scott! Did you find her? Any news?”

The moment he saw her his anger flared. He barreled past her into the small, cluttered living room that was dimly lit.

“No more lies, Carly,” he growled.

She tightened her night-robe around her and took a step back. “You’re drunk again.”

“Don’t you dare judge me!”

“Hell, I will!” she hollered, surging ahead. Flaky and messy Carly was what he was used to. But this one was feral. Shadows danced on her face from the flickering fire. “Lucy is missing and you’re drinking at a bar? What’s wrong with you?”

“Is she mine?”

She gasped. “What?”

“Is she actually mine or is this one of your many lies?”

Her back pressed against the wall as she tried to compose herself. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, as he paced around the room.

It was like someone had torched him and filled him with poisonous gas.

He just wanted to slice open his skin and crawl out of it.

“Why the hell would you lie about that?” he suddenly shouted, making her flinch. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I thought you would take the case more seriously if you thought she was your daughter,” she whined. “I didn’t plan it. I’m so scared. So terrified. I can’t breathe.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t take Lucy’s disappearance seriously?”

“Because two girls are dead, Scott! And I thought you could use some incentive to find the third one alive.”

Her words were a punch to his gut. It took the air out of him. Silence descended between them; the only sound was of the fire crackling. “You think I don’t know how to do my job?”

“That’s not what I meant?—”

“So you thought it was fair to put me through hell?—”

“I’m going through hell!” She beat her chest, her wild hair cascading down her shoulders. “ Me . She’s my daughter!”

“And I thought she was mine too but you’re such a manipulative bitch!”

“I think you should leave,” she said, wringing her hands. “You’re drunk and I don’t feel comfortable?—”

“This is classic. So typical.” Scott fell to his knees. Suddenly everything was spinning. He’d thought that perhaps Zoe was mistaken, that Carly wouldn’t lie to him about something as important as this. But the shred of doubt wouldn’t leave him. “Why do you keep ruining my life?”

“You’re the one who keeps coming back,” she snapped, despite the tears forming in her eyes.

“Because I look at you and still see that girl I fell in love with back in senior year.” He sniffled.

“All that shit you put me through for years with your jealousies, insecurities, and then your… infidelities!” He let out a sarcastic laugh.

“With my boss of all people. Chief Travis, who I report to.”

“You dumped me, remember? You only come here to get some and use me. Why are you complaining, Scott? We both use each other.”

“Because it never feels enough.” His fingers clenched in tight fists.

Anger fueled him. “No matter how much I hate you, it’s never enough.

You knew what this case was doing to me.

And then you decided to throw it in my face that I fathered a child I didn’t know about, a child who is missing, and then I find out you lied about that too. You’re the devil.”

Carly stood up. Scott’s breath was heavy and rancid.

His eyes were wild, bloodshot, and fixated on Carly, who backed into a corner, her hands trembling.

The long, jagged scar ran down his face, still pink and healing.

It twisted his features. He stared at her, and all the lies she had ever told bubbled in his mind.

All those years he’d spent working hard to make money for them, only for her to blow it all on drugs.

All the times he’d heard from people in town that she was sleeping with other men and he ignored it, choosing to trust her.

The number of people she’d forced him to cut out of his life because she wanted him for herself.

He’d forgiven her time and time again. But this time he snapped. This time Carly had stooped too low.

He lunged at her, the rage he had been holding back finally unleashed. His hand shot out, ready to strike, the scar on his face twisting as his mouth curled into a snarl.

Carly gasped, her instincts kicking in. She ducked, just in time, as his fist missed her by inches. Desperation took over, and her hand shot out, grabbing the lamp. Without thinking, she swung it with all her strength, the base crashing into the side of his head.

The sound was sickening—bone and metal colliding, followed by a sharp crack.

He swayed for a moment, then crumpled to the floor. His anger drained away and underneath the pain, there was the blood-curdling realization of what he’d done.

Had he actually attacked Carly?

Zoe watched her shadow stretch out in the moonlight as the hours went by.

The thick forest surrounding the station cast deep shadows under the dim glow of streetlights.

Inside, the station was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every creak and rustle seem amplified.

She sat at her desk, the evidence files spread out in front of her, the harsh fluorescent light above buzzing faintly.

“Thank you, Agent Storm,” a young patrol officer said from her cubicle a few feet away from the desk Zoe had taken. “I love sunflowers!”

Zoe smiled at the bouquet of flowers she had ordered for the patrol officer. “You’re welcome, and congratulations!”

She’d overheard that the young woman had recently gotten engaged but wasn’t telling anyone about it at work because of the cases they were entangled in.

But Zoe wouldn’t have survived these years ignoring the good things that happened—she knew bursts of good were sparse in life.

Her heart ballooned as she watched the woman beam at the flowers.

At least it was a fleeting moment of joy in this season of gloom in Harborwood.

Zoe went back to work, running her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face, eyes scanning the same report for what felt like the hundredth time.

Next to her, the trash bin contained three empty plastic bags of candy.

She made a mental note to hit the gym to offset all this sugar.

Idly, she wondered if diabetes ran in the family.

There was no way for her to be sure as she didn’t know who her father was.

Her current focus was the difference between the two crimes. The MO was the same. Girls propped against the tree trunks. The cause of death strangulation. Ropes hanging from the trees, the ends curled into nooses. A picture tied to one of the nooses with a note scribbled on the back.

But why was Lily’s handwritten and Tara’s printed?

Something didn’t add up. Why change the method?

She leaned back in her chair, the wheels squeaking as she did.

Then there were the hesitation marks. They were prominent in Tara’s case but none were found in Lily’s.

The toy too—Lily’s toy looked like it had been used but the toy left next to Tara looked brand-new.

There could be an explanation. Maybe killing was taking its toll. Maybe the killer had grown more attached to Tara during her captivity. Maybe he was afraid his handwriting might give him away. It could be a simple case of him learning to perfect his crimes.

But he’d left his DNA, albeit partial, on the ropes. That was a serious blunder.

Her phone buzzed, jolting her from her thoughts. She grabbed it, only to feel a wave of disappointment wash over her. No updates from Simon. “Come on, Simon,” she muttered to herself, scrolling through their last messages.

“Did Simon get back to you?” Aiden asked, offering her coffee, which she accepted.

“Not yet. But he will.” She slurped on the hot liquid. “He was asking about you. You don’t give him updates?”

Aiden stiffened. “No… I figured you would.”

She blanched at his comment but decided to ignore it. “Anything from WSP or the sheriff’s office on Lucy?”

“Nothing. I believe she’s still in town considering how they have been patrolling the borders. Not a lot of missing kids in the area at the moment.”

Zoe scratched through all the information. What were they missing? “Lucy means… light. His note said when the darkness falls.”

Aiden was visibly irritated at their lack of progress. “Yeah, I don’t understand the connection between Lily, Tara, and now Lucy. They didn’t know each other—no common friends, or classes or babysitters or family. But there’s something there.”

A man walked in through the main doors. It was 10 p.m. and the station was mostly empty. The minute Zoe saw him, her pulse quickened.

It was Benny.

His face was bruised and movements deliberate. An arm in a sling. What the hell was he doing here?

“What is it?” Aiden’s eyes bounced between her and Benny. “You know him?”

“No. But I should help.”

Benny approached one of the desks where a uniformed officer sat. “I need to file a report.”

“I’ll take this!” Zoe jumped up from her chair and rushed to him, signaling the cop to stay seated. “I’m Agent Storm from the FBI. You are?”

Benny’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open. “You’re in the FBI?”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. But she pretended to take notes. “Just shut up, Benny. What happened? What are you doing in Harborwood?”

“My grandmother lives here so I was visiting,” he said, rubbing his jaw where the bruise was darkest. “A bastard took a shot at me.”

“Betting gone wrong?”

He was still staring at her like she had grown two heads. “You’re FBI? What the hell, Z?”

A pause. Her eyes darted to Aiden who was watching their interaction like a hawk, surely prying open the cracks.

“Who I am at your club and who I am outside are totally unrelated. Okay?” He didn’t look convinced so she smiled sweetly.

“You’ve known me at least a couple years, Benny.

If I wanted to harm your business, I would have done so already.

I see crazy shit at this job and need a space to let out my frustrations so I do it at your club.

Don’t overthink it, okay? Just give me the details and don’t tell anyone here. I got a rep to maintain.”

He grunted. “All right.”

She made a note of the details. Luckily, it wasn’t anything that could be traced back to her. Her eyes bore into his. “Why have you been ignoring my messages? I need a fight.”

“I was busy with this. In a few days. I need time to recover,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll be in touch. Just don’t come after me. I’m a businessman and I pay taxes.” He was backtracking and before Zoe could respond, he was exiting the station, almost stumbling on his way out.

She was about to leave when she saw Travis, his face contorted.

“Everything okay?”

He clenched his jaw. “I was just at Carly’s. Scott showed up drunk and almost attacked her.”

“ What ?” Her knees knocked into each other.

“Turns out Carly lied to Scott about him being Lucy’s father because she thought we’d take the case more seriously,” he said tartly.

Zoe bit her tongue. She shouldn’t have said anything to Scott, especially knowing that he had relapsed and was unpredictable. “What happens now?”

“I called some guys to take Scott home so that he can sleep it off. Carly isn’t pressing any charges. But Scott’s suspension just got official.”