Page 52 of The Hanging Dolls (Zoe Storm #1)

FIFTY-ONE

“You’ve been a little different these past couple of sessions,” Aiden noted.

She shrugged. “I… don’t think so.”

They stared at each other. A battle of his scrutinizing gaze and her rehearsed cheerfulness.

“You’ve been smiling too much,” he said accusingly.

“I’m a happy person.”

Aiden sighed and closed his notepad. “Storm, if I did anything to… offend or hurt you, I apologize. But please just be honest with me. There’s no need for a show.”

She ground her molars despite keeping her voice light. “I’m being honest. You did nothing wrong. I’m just in a good place and want to get through this.”

His eyes lingered on her for the longest time, but she was too good at this. He didn’t believe her. “Okay… we’re almost done, we don’t have much more to go over.”

“Let’s do it.” She smiled as she rued the day she opened up enough to give him a peek of the carnage of her past that she carried inside her.

Zoe had never lived in a nice house. All those years hopping around with Rachel, they lived in modest homes in remote neighborhoods. Rachel used to love greenery and storms and the ocean. But they always lived in dry, desert towns.

The next day, Zoe went to pay Regina a visit at her home.

Regina lived in a two-story house with a warm beige exterior surrounded by a lush garden bursting with color.

The large windows were framed by dark shutters, and the front door was painted a deep navy blue.

Zoe had a dream that one day she would retire in a house like this.

One day she would put down roots and not just own a place but be owned by it.

She knocked on the door, and a rattled, overworked intern who hadn’t combed his hair and had an earpiece answered. “Is Connor here? FBI.” She flashed her badge.

The man’s eyes widened and he sighed. “He isn’t here anymore. Why do you think this place is going down the dumps?”

“Who is it?” Regina bellowed, and the intern startled like a rabbit caught in headlights. “Oh, Agent Storm!” Regina appeared in the doorway, not a single hair out of place and not a single wrinkle on her purple pantsuit. “Postpone the next interview,” she ordered the intern, who hurried away.

Behind Regina, Zoe could see the whirlwind of activity—people shouting and moving rapidly, dodging each other, phones ringing and keyboards clattering.

“How can I help you?” Regina shut the door behind her, cutting off the sound of chaos. “Some quiet feels good. Easier to chat here.”

“I’m looking for Connor. Is he not here?”

Regina pulled back her shoulders. “No. I fired him.”

“What? Why?”

She forced a polite smile but it was too tight. “Many reasons. Biggest being that he was doing things behind my back. I couldn’t trust him anymore so I got rid of him. It’s why we are in a flux right now. But we’ll manage. I’m interviewing some promising candidates for the position.”

“What did he do exactly?”

“He was siphoning money from my accounts,” she said. “I shouldn’t have given him that much control over my affairs.”

Zoe mulled it over—Regina was born for public office, always composed and quick on her feet. But whatever she was saying wasn’t beyond the realms of disbelief. Connor had a temper, and there was a callousness to him. “We are looking for him. Do you know where he is? He wasn’t home.”

She shrugged. “No idea. The last thing he told me was that he’d gotten involved with some shady casino owner, which was why he was stealing money from me. Why are you looking for him?”

“He might have some information for us. Do you know where he might have gone? Any place he mentioned?”

Regina thought for a moment and then said, “He used to mention something about an old family cottage. I haven’t been there but maybe he’s up there?”

“Do you ever have a day where everything just feels weird?” Zoe asked Scott as they parked at the edge of the woods. His suspension was finally over. The forest was so choked with trees that no vehicle could enter.

“No… should I?” Scott asked, baffled.

Zoe killed the engine and sucked the last remnants of her milkshake. But it didn’t taste the same. And she had a theory—something bad was going to happen if milkshakes tasted off. It was a complicated, long-winded link between her instincts and taste buds.

“Maybe it’s anxiety. The case is coming to an end.” Scott’s breaths formed little clouds as they ventured into the woods.

There was a harsher chill in the air. The trees loomed over them, their branches heavy with water, creating a gloomy canopy that seemed to absorb the fading daylight.

“So Connor has motive to kill Tara. Not only would it get Logan Bennett off his back but it would also create a controversy he could leverage against Mayor Hicks and cast Regina as the hero this town needs,” Zoe summarized.

“And he targeted Lucy and Lily, two victims who had nothing to do with him and Regina, to deflect any suspicion. He created the whole thing with the ropes and the notes so that we’d think we were dealing with a serial killer.”

The wind whipped through the trees, sending cold droplets splashing onto their faces. Zoe’s boots sunk into the mire as she hopped forward, trying to avoid the tangled roots and slush of leaves and mud.

“But it can’t be a coincidence that Lucy and Lily were both victims of Munchausen by proxy.” He smacked a branch out of the way as they pushed through the maze of crowded trees.

“He must have figured it out from the hospital. Might be related to someone who works there who told him about Lucy and Lily.”

The cottage came into view. The towering pines began to thin, revealing a faint glow in the distance. The structure appeared old and weather-beaten, its wooden shingles darkened by years of exposure to the elements, the windows fogged up from the cold.

“Think he’s been squatting here?” Scott asked.

“It’s his family cottage. No one has heard from Connor and his phone has been switched off.”

“It’s also the perfect place to keep Lucy captive.”

Zoe knocked firmly on the front door, the sound muffled by the pelting rain. She prayed that Connor was there. What if that casino owner he owed money to had gotten to him first?

After a tense moment, Connor opened the door. His face was gaunt and pallid, like he had been surviving on sparse amounts of food.

“Connor!” Scott said firmly. “We need to talk.”

Connor was like a scared animal. There was a mad desperation in his eyes, like he would bite anyone who came close. For a fraction of a second, fear flashed in his eyes and then he attempted to slam the door shut.

Zoe’s hand shot out, catching the door just in time. “Connor, don’t do this!”

“Not so fast!” Scott said, forcing the door open wider, as they pushed their way inside.

Panic-stricken, Connor fled, bumping into old furniture and antiques that cluttered the space. He flung open the back door, and a blast of cold wind and rain surged into the room. He stumbled into the storm, slipping on the slick ground as he tried to escape.

The forest outside was now a dark, swirling mass of shadows and rain. Zoe hesitated for a moment. She was never one to be scared of the elements but the wilderness of this place had gotten under her skin. When Scott shot past her, she followed suit, ignoring her fears.

Her vision was blurry in the downpour. She could make out the faint outline of Scott ahead of her, weaving through the drooping branches that were blowing in their faces.

He reached out, grabbing Connor’s jacket and yanking him back into the mud.

Connor fought back, swinging an arm wildly, but Scott ducked and tackled him to the ground.

They crashed into the muck, mud splattering everywhere.

Connor tried to wriggle free. He slammed his head into Scott’s who fell back.

Zoe lunged at him, but he picked up a rock and swung it into the side of Zoe’s head.

She ducked but wasn’t quick enough—he wasn’t able to knock her out but he drew blood.

Her knees softened and she also dropped on the ground, mildly disoriented. He ran past them back to the cottage.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked.

Zoe was on all fours. She brought her hand to her temple and inspected it. It was covered in blood, but the rain fell on it with such speed and force that it quickly washed away, mingling with the soil underneath. “Go after him. I’m fine. He’s heading back to the cottage.”

He hesitated just for a moment and then hurried away. She called after him to be careful but her voice was drowned out by the thunder.

Zoe got to her feet slowly and steadied herself.

Did she have a concussion? Her vision rippled and she blinked several times against the battering rain for it to return to normal.

Her hair was matted to her scalp and she was chilled to the bone, barely able to feel her face.

When her vision stabilized, she spotted something in the shadows.

Another figure in the distance. Lightning lit up her surroundings and she saw Rachel.

A blink of the eye and she was gone.

But it propelled Zoe to head back to find Connor and Scott. When she reached the cottage, the back door was wide open. She withdrew her Glock from her waistband and cautiously entered, trying not to slip.

It was eerily silent and still. She squinted for a better view but the only light came from a dying fire in the fireplace and the occasional flash of lightning. She moved her arm, aiming the gun in the dark corners. For a moment she thought she was alone.

But then a bullet whizzed past her and a hand came around her ankle, yanking her down.

“He’s got a gun.” Scott was taking cover behind a sofa, his hands secured around a gun. “I only have one bullet left and by my count he has two.”

“I got a full round.” Zoe breathed hard. “Can we call for backup?”

“No reception.”

“You won’t pin this on me!” Connor yelled from across the room, hiding behind an armchair.

Zoe thought fast. They could avoid bloodshed. “Connor, we know you bought the toy from eBay that was found close to Tara’s crime scene. You can’t deny this anymore.”

“Regina made me do it!” Connor cried out, desperate. “I’ll testify against her. She wanted to cut off Logan Bennett after the campaign money started to dry up.”

“Regina has given us evidence of how you were siphoning off money from the campaign, and we found your communications with that casino owner,” Scott retorted.

“But if you have a different version of events, we’re willing to listen. But not like this,” Zoe countered. Turning to Scott, she whispered, “We have to make him feel safe.”

“I don’t trust you!” Connor’s voice broke, like he was crying.

“Where is Lucy, Connor? Hand her back to us and we can talk about a deal,” Zoe said.

“I don’t have Lucy! I didn’t take her! I didn’t want to kill Tara. But… I couldn’t see any other way.” He started wailing.

Zoe and Scott exchanged a puzzled glance. “What do you mean, Connor? You didn’t take Lucy?”

“No! I didn’t kill Lily either. When the news broke that Lily had been found in the woods, it was the perfect opportunity for me to use that to make Regina win. We needed to get rid of Logan so it was killing two birds with one stone.”

“How did you replicate the crime scene and MO with such accuracy?” Scott said. “We didn’t release the details to the public.”

“I have a source! A uniform. Terri Walters. She fed me enough information.”

“Damn it,” Zoe hissed under her breath. Scott shook his head in disappointment.

She connected the dots—that’s why there were so many hesitation marks around Tara’s case, why the note was printed instead of handwritten and why the stuffed animal was brand-new—details he got right but not completely right.

“Okay, Connor. I’m going to stand up, all right?

Don’t shoot me. Let’s talk face to face. ”

Scott gripped her arm. “What are you doing?”

“We need this stalemate to end.” She tucked the gun back into her jeans but turned off the safety in case she needed it. Her knees shaking, she stood up with her hands in the air and her heart in her throat.

Connor peeked from over the armchair, the top of his head visible. “Tell your partner to drop his gun too.”

“I can’t do that, Connor.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“Connor, we’ll take you to the station and take your statement and then after that?—”

“No! No! No!” he cried. “I’m not going anywhere. You need to let me disappear.”

“We can make sure that that casino owner doesn’t bother you again.

I’m offering you the chance to do the right thing.

I know you feel guilty for killing that little girl.

” Zoe’s courage was faltering the longer she stood like this in a vulnerable position.

“Isn’t that better than living your life on the run always looking over your shoulder? ”

Something flashed in his eyes. A cruelty. “But it’s better than going to prison.”

In a swift motion, his arm reached over the top of the armchair, gun in hand. He pulled the trigger, a deafening blast filling the room. Zoe’s hand instinctively went for her weapon, but before she could react, Scott shoved her aside, throwing her to the floor.

He loomed above her but his hands had gone slack next to him, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Scott!” Her voice tore through the night.

He collapsed on the floor just as she sprang to her feet. There was a noise, squelching footsteps, grazing armchair and the door opening. Connor was running away. Without hesitating for a second, she pulled out her gun and shot him in the back of the head.

He stilled for a second and then slumped down the door.

But Zoe didn’t care about him. She attended to Scott who lay on the floor motionless. Blood oozed out of his chest, turning his white shirt dark.

“Scott!” She shook him, opened his eyes. “Can you hear me?” Tears raced down her cheeks unchecked, her heart drumming against her ribs. “Scott!”

She checked his pulse. It was thready. His eyes fluttered open, a glimmer of hope sparking within her. But then, with a labored breath, he slipped away into the darkness.

Zoe froze, her mind struggling to process the reality. The thunder roared around her relentlessly. Scott was gone.