Page 28 of What’s Left of Me (What Left #1)

“Glad I came with you?”

I glare at Jensen as he paces the kitchen, Jo and Vinny off in their room cleaning up. After seeing them together I opted to go back outside and check if the shooter returned, and Jensen made the call to the police and put the BOLO out on the car.

We weren’t planning to come this way. Soto pulled up the residence for Dr. Whitmore and we went out to try and talk to the old man, only to learn from another neighbor that he’s down the coast for several weeks on an extended vacation.

When we relayed the details to Soto she dug around and found a possible address, but his cell appears to be turned off and this is either a cash only vacation or someone else is paying since we can’t find a credit card trail.

Or worse, it isn’t a vacation at all.

Tomorrow we’ve arranged for Gabe and Tyler to drive down and try to speak to him. It’s only a few short hours, and they could be back by mid afternoon if the guy is agreeable and answers our questions.

“Silent treatment, huh?” Jensen goes on, and I turn back to him. “It’s cool, but I’m not the one fucking the chick you like.”

I shake my head. It doesn’t matter if I find Jo attractive or not. She’s married, and shows zero indication that she’s looking to cheat. That, and I have a strict policy of not getting tangled up with victims romantically. This case is enough of a mess.

Nodding towards the street, I can still see the car parked out there.

An officer is here to take the two men’s statements, which I’m sure they are just going to love if they work for the Ajello family.

Another is crossing over to the front door, and thankfully these two are on neutral ground with my team.

They aren’t interested in stirring up any extra drama.

Vinny appears as the officer knocks, and I can hear Jo jogging behind him.

I saw more of her skin than I expected to, and the scars all over her body really are all over.

I’ve seen the crime photos, but these are years old now.

They look different now that they are healed and almost…

worn in. They’ve become a part of her, all the way down to her personality.

When I see her a moment later she’s back to her layers, and I can’t say I’m surprised.

Officer Murray nods to Vinny, and she pauses by the couch to slide on some sandals before looking at the two of us.

Her eyes dart over to us, and there’s no friendliness in her stare.

What a great start to our visit. I had hoped things would be slightly less strained since I haven’t spoken to them in almost a week, and I’m sure by now Vinny is antsy to leave.

Things were quieting down until this latest death and the shooter outside.

We should’ve pursued the driver in our car, but I was concerned about the two key witnesses inside.

They have a guard detail from the Ajello Family sitting not-so-discreetly outside, so obviously Vinny doesn't believe that things are over just because it’s quiet. The copycat isn’t sinking back into the dark, they are just biding their time.

“You two really came over here to talk about another body?” she asks, staring at us. I can see Murray’s eyes darting between Jo and Vinny as she continues to refuse to approach the door. “Phone calls usually work. Is this body sitting on the porch?”

“Oh, she’s got jokes,” Jensen says with a chuckle.

He’s getting far too much enjoyment out of this, and I’m going to ream him on the drive back for letting his guard down when we stormed in.

There could’ve been something dangerous happening inside.

For all we knew there was another person in there looking to attack too, but an immediate sweep of the house revealed nothing of the sort.

“This one looks like a true CGS victim,” I tell her, reaching for my phone.

There’s no photos yet since the kill just happened, and the images on my camera are brutal.

Vinny is still at the door, speaking with the officer.

But I can tell from the way his body is angled he’s keeping one eye on us. “Do you want to see?”

Jo flinches at the question, and it’s not quite the reaction I expect.

Disgust and repulsion maybe, but the image can’t hurt her anymore than the true killer ever did.

When there was a body right outside she seemed bound and determined to have a look, but now she’s unsure about staring at pictures on a phone?

Maybe the copycat is getting to her after all.

She only hesitates for another moment, looking between us before offering a jerky nod of her head. “Yes.”

I know what she sees when she looks at the phone. The woman, identified at the scene as Lydia Thompson from her ID, died within the last few hours. It’s midafternoon, and the body was discarded in the middle of the morning. Either the killer is getting braver or more careless.

Jo makes a choking sound, pressing a hand to her mouth as she steps back.

I know Lydia looks awful, her hair stained in dried blood, most of her face carved to pieces from the vertical cuts.

They go through her eyes and mouth, tearing through her nose until it’s little more than a bloody stump.

Unlike all of the victims before most of the brutality is limited to her face, and when Quinton met us at the scene he looked her over for less than a minute before guessing blunt force trauma did her in based on the wounds at her hairline.

She’s already back at his office, and I have Tyler prepped to keep me updated when they reach the next of kin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Vinny snaps, stepping away from Murray. He crosses to Jo, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he glares at me. “Close that.”

“I wanted the two of you to see,” I explain.

“All the previous victims since our copycat came on the scene had no physical resemblances to the victims Alastair chose during his run as the CGS. Now, suddenly, the victimology changed, and we’re back to blonde women in their mid to late twenties.

Until now the victims never have cuts on their faces.

This is new. It suggests a new level of rage. ”

Jo shakes her head, simultaneously shrugging off her husband's arm. “Why show us this?”

“Because I need you to understand that the target changed,” I stress. “Now the woman who died looks just like you, and the traditional killing style is out the window. The copycat is still using the CGS’s signature, but there were never attacks like this to the face. This is personal.”

Her eyes widen, and she looks around the room.

Murray stands off to one side, looking very uncomfortable as he eavesdrops, and part of me hopes he takes the news back to the precinct with him.

If there really are ties between an officer or guard like Wallsburg and the copycat, it would be good for the killer to know that we’re onto him.

Maybe it’ll force him to make a mistake.

“Personal to her,” Jo asks, pointing toward my phone, “or me?”

I purse my lips, and Jensen shrugs. He’s here, mainly, to ensure I don’t spiral while talking to the two of them.

“It makes sense that it’s for whoever wronged the copycat.

It could be personal to them or personal to the killer they idolize.

In this case, we’re positive it has to be a threat towards you, Jo. ”

We go over some details again after Jo and Vinny give Murrey what he needs to file the report.

Vinny closes the front curtains shortly after and I briefly spot the SUV outside is in the same place.

I’m kind of surprised with two trained killers sitting out there that someone managed to get a shot off to begin with, but at the time the gun went off I was already climbing out of my car with Jensen.

They could’ve been startled to see the two of us arriving, but from what I’ve heard the last week about the Ajello Family those two shouldn’t be surprised by much of anything. Especially if they work under Massimo.

Jo was colder to me before Vinny drew me aside to talk about the book, and I shot off a text to Soto as he spoke.

As Vinny tells me about some book his sister has, Jensen speaks with Jo.

She’s a little less tense with him, but Jensen is good at making people comfortable.

I catch bits and pieces of their conversation when Vinny falls silent, glaring out the window. “Konrad, really?”

“Guilty as charged,” Jensen tells her with a laugh. “That’s why I just always introduce myself as Agent Jensen. My first name isn’t that important for most people anyway.”

“We know about the book,” I tell Vinny, trying to zone out their conversation again.

“Soto said it’s not online and the places it does claim to be available all pop up as scams or incomplete text files.

The author never made a specific ebook for it.

She’s searched the name C. Harrowths and a lot of results came up, but for the most part the information she finds related to the author mentions their passing a few years ago.

Your sister doesn’t have any other information on it? ”

“It’s supposed to be outdated,” he says, frowning at me. We’re standing together by the kitchen sink, leaning on the counter. This is about as informal an interview is going to get between us. “What was that name?”

I raise a brow. “C. Harrowths? She - or he - was the author. There isn’t a ton online about them so it’s probably just a pen name.”

“Huh.” He scratches his chin, before looking towards Jo. I missed what she’s talking to Jensen about now. “Darling? Does the name C. Harrowths mean anything to you?”

“What?” she asks, looking over. Recognition drifts through her gaze a moment later and her eyes widen. “Oh! There was an applicant for the club under that name. Remember I thought it was fake? Lots of people do that when they are afraid of applying with their birth names. Why?”

I meet Vinny’s gaze. There’s no way two people with that name get mentioned in a serial killer case and as an applicant to a sex club several states away, managed by someone involved in said case. “Your club. Would it save any information for the applicant?”

Jo raises a brow. “Of course. There's a general application with a lot of questions and then a simpler contact form. I don’t know which one Harrowths used, but it should be saved into the system.”

I nod, pushing off the counter. “We’ll need that information. We can draft a warrant with the Colorado Judicial Branch-”

She waves a hand. “It’s fine. I’m pretty sure the user just entered a few questions into a contact form. I don’t think there’s much you can get from it, but you can look if you want. I can find it for you.”

I nod, rattling off a text to Soto as we speak. “We’ll get something drafted so the information is obtained legally, but if you have access to the application or contact form and can send it to my analyst that might save time. A dead woman shouldn't be applying for sex clubs.”

Jo nods, and I glance down as a text comes in from Soto. I’ve blown up her phone over the last half hour, and now she’s finally gotten a moment to respond between my requests.

Soto

I ran the new images you sent from the Thompson crime scene and the key you found in her bag appears to match the same skill level as the other two keys.

They appear to all be cut by the same locksmith with the same amount of skill.

They are not perfect duplicates, but if you send someone to test the key I bet it will almost open Thomspson’s front door.

Soto works fast. The key from Odell’s crime scene is the same type of blank from Swan’s place, and although blanks are pretty hard to distinguish, both of those keys had slight imperfections when compared to the originals. A third one just creates a pattern.

But this seems to confirm that the same locksmith cut these keys for the original CGS and the copycat.

“I want to go back to the prison,” Jo says, cutting off my train of thought. I lift my gaze, and we’re all staring at her with different levels of confusion. “To speak with Alastair one more time.”

“Why?” I ask her. After the last several weeks I expected her to hate going there, and from what I’ve seen she’s never once been excited about it.

“Your new victim,” she says, nodding to my phone.

I tuck it away in my pocket again. “You said she looks a little bit like me, and she shouldn’t if the new killer has a different type.

Alastair always killed women who resembled me.

I want to hear him admit why. Maybe you can use that for your new killer. ”

That’s not how it works, but Vinny speaks before I can. “You know why, darling. His obsession with you reached an unhealthy level. You don’t need to-”

“I know why,” she agrees with a snap, “But knowing and being told are different. He never said it to my face. He never said the exact words in court. I want him to say why.” She blinks, looking away. “He owes me that much.”

I glance at Jensen. We personally made a house call because I knew that the reality of the victim change could trigger Jo.

It could bring up repressed memories or old fears that she hasn’t had to deal with, but she also needed to be aware of the very real possibility that the killer is switching his attention to her.

This is an emotional response, and it could make her unpredictable if she speaks with Alastair again.

Even chatting over the phone could cause a scene, but this whole time she’s not looked as emotionally wrecked as she does right now.

And we haven’t been the nicest when it comes to bringing up the past. I expected our persistence to bother her more than this.

But if Alastair sees her emotional and hurting, that could trigger a response of his own. Good or bad, it would be something.

My eyes look between Jo and Vinny, weighing my options.

If they can’t help us after this, going home is safer.

I want answers from Alastair and to lock up his copycat, not to put Jo or her husband in danger.

“Okay, we can go tomorrow and have one more meeting. We’ll see if it’s enough to get Alastair to talk.

If it’s not, I’ll buy your plane tickets myself.

If Alastair doesn’t talk when he sees how upset you are, Jo, he’s never going to. ”