Page 41 of Criminology of a Character

“I guess you are.” She smiled weakly, remembering how he followed her to the point of borderline stalking when they first met. To a certain extent, he’d done it again by coming to this scene, and maybe it signaled something was wrong with her, but she wanted him to follow her from the shadows, to know when she needed him without her having to ask. Knowing he was always watching gave her an edge other officers didn’t have. It was easier to face evil with the devil guarding your back.

“Before you go.” He caught her hand to stop her from leaving. “Who’s here with you?”

“Olivia, Griffin…”

“No.” He stared at her with intention. “Who’s here? Did Ewan stop by to check on Gold?”

“No.” Bel’s heart rate picked up at his meaning. “I haven’t seen him, at least. What do you smell? The killer?”

“Not sure.” He shook his head. “There’s something here. Or there was at one point.” He lifted her hand to his nose and inhaled. “You’ve come into contact with it.”

“I’ve come into contact with forty-two bodies,” she said. “Who knows what scents I carry, or if what you smell is living or dead? I don’t remember seeing anything suspicious. It’s just the police, forensics, and the press here.”

“Keep your eyes open. It’s hard to pinpoint over all the people and death, but someone here isn’t natural.”

“I hope it’s not the killer.” She stepped closer to him, no longer ready to leave his side. “If the killer isn’t human?—”

“I’ll be there waiting for him,” Eamon said. “The presence isn’t strong, but it’s something. Please be safe. I love you too much to lose you.”

“I will,” she promised. “I’ll mostly be at the station, though. Thank you for coming, but you should go. I don’t want a nosy reporter filming you.”

“I’ll see you soon, Detective.” He slid his fingers through her hair and pulled her back against his chest. “Don’t worry about Cerberus. Just worry about catching the monster who did this and then come home to us.”

Eamon released her, and before Bel realized he’d moved, he vanished into the darkness as if he’d never existed.

“Thanks for coming,”Lina Thum said as Bel handed her a large cup of coffee. “And thank you for this. I’m so tired, I’m seeing double of everything.”

“Me too,” Bel said. No one had gone home yet. No one had slept, and time no longer held any meaning. All that existed were those forty-two girls and the need to find the murderer whose brutality destroyed so many lives. “You haven’t started the autopsies already, have you?”

“Not yet. The bodies are too frozen,” Lina said.

“I thought so, and I don’t envy you. I’m stressed about the number of autopsies before us, and I don’t even have to perform them.”

“It is overwhelming.” Lina patted Bel’s arm. “But this is about something else. It’s why I called all three of you here.” She nodded toward the door as Griffin and Gold entered the morgue to join them. “Come on, I need to show you something.”

She led them into the cold storage where bodies rested on every available surface, and seeing the women piled into the space wherever they fit was almost worse than seeing them in that freezer.

“I recognized her once we got the Jane Does under the lights,” Lina said as she pulled back the sheet covering one woman. She’d been a pretty girl, and she was unfortunately one of the younger victims.

“I don’t,” Griffin said. “Who is she?”

“Victoria Scotts,” Lina said. “I followed her case when it first broke, and while we’ll have to run DNA and prints to confirm, I’m almost certain it’s her. She was a nineteen-year-old politician’s daughter who went missing twelve years ago.”

“Twelve years?” Bel repeated.

“Yes.” Lina met the detective’s gaze with a sickened expression. “Twelve years ago, Victoria Scotts disappeared from her home, and it became a high-profile case because of her father’s political career. Shots of Mr. and Mrs. Scotts begging the kidnapper to return their daughter aired constantly. The police were convinced her disappearance was politically motivated until the investigation uncovered evidence of abuse. The narrative changed, and the media crucified Mr. Scotts. His career crashed and burned, and Victoria was labeled a runaway instead of a kidnapping victim because of his crimes. The police assumed she fled to escape him, and they eventually halted the investigation. No one ever saw Victoria again… until she showed up on my table.” Lina draped the sheet back over the girl’s lifeless face. “The act of freezing the bodies will make pinpointing their times of death impossible. Our only hope ata timeline is to ID The Matchstick Girls and pray their names reveal when they went missing, but Victoria’s presence gives us a starting place for how long our killer has been operating. Forty-two women over at least twelve years. That’s an average of three murdered girls a year, and no one ever noticed.”

“I’m up!”Olivia jerked up from where her head had been pressed against her desk. “I’m awake.”

“Sorry.” Bel rubbed her back as she slid a to-go cup before her. It had only been a few hours since they returned from the morgue, but it felt like a lifetime. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Violet and Ewan heard what happened, and they bought us coffee and donuts from The Expresso Shot. I figured you would want something to eat.” She handed a chocolate donut to her partner, and it barely left her fingers before it was in Olivia’s mouth.

“Ewan’s here?” Olivia asked, scanning the station for her boyfriend.

“Yeah. He’s unloading the food, and then he’ll be over to say hi.”

“One reason I like smaller police stations. They let boyfriends bring you coffee. I might cry when I see him after last night… I’m surprised Eamon didn’t stop by to check on you.”

“He already did,” Bel said, intentionally being vague about his show of support.

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