Page 258 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“How was the spyware installed on her phone?”

“She clicked a link and inadvertently downloaded it.”

“She knows not to click on unknown links.”

“Not if she trusted the person who sent it to her.”

“Can you find that link? Who the sender was?”

“Not easily. She deletes her texts and emails, but we’re digging.” Wilson clears his throat. “The spyware enabled the hacker to watch her through the camera, listen to her through the microphone, and track her movements through the phone’s GPS.”

My heart shoots into my throat, beating painfully.

They had access to her whenever she had her phone with her.

I wrack my brain, trying remember the conversation I had with her about The Ghost. We were in my office, and she was wearing sleep shorts and a tank top. No pockets. No phone with her.

Unless she slipped in another conversation with Leo and Kody, the stalker doesn’t know about The Ghost.

Leo looks feral, his posture vibrating and breaths raging. Ready to kill.

“I received more potential persons of interest from your father’s ledger,” Wilson says. “The list is never-ending, but there’s one entry I want you to see. I’ll text a photo of it.” A pause. “Just sent it.”

I switch to the messaging app and open a photo of my father’s handwriting.

Renat Moroz

Age 12

“He filled a shelf with a small army of books and read and read; but none of it made sense. They were all subject to various cramping limitations: those of the past were outdated, and those of the present were obsessed with the past.”

A chill runs over my scalp. “I don’t recognize the name, but several things stand out.”

“The Pushkin quote?” Wilson asks.

“Yes.”

“It’s the only Pushkin quote in the ledger. That’s why I flagged it.”

“The age…” I look at Leo and Kody, marking the horror in their eyes. “Is this one of Denver’s victims?”

“Unconfirmed. But I found a Renat Moroz, who lived on Kodiak Island.”

“Most of Denver’s victims did. Where is he now?”

“He disappeared thirty years ago. Parents are deceased. No living family. The name doesn’t ring any bells?”

“No, but Moroz is the Russian word for frost.”

“Oh, fuck.” Leo’s eyes widen. “The text she received…”

Who am I? I think you know. We share the same heart of frost and scars.

“And Denver’s riddle.” Kody’s voice drops to a deadly rumble. “In the chambers of frost, pain is my art.”

“I think we have our stalker.” My pulse quickens.

“Only problem is,” Wilson says, “we don’t know who or where he is.”

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