Page 53 of Criminology of a Character

She squatted beside him and dug in his pockets, locating his wallet and keyswith ease, but she already knew whose name was printed on the driver’s license. He didn’t like to kill his Matchstick Girls violently, but cornered animals were different breeds of predators. Police were in his house and seconds away from finding his final girl. There was no escape for him, save a bloody exchange to choose the survivors.

“It was Frost,” Bel said as she returned upstairs to Griffin’s side.

“Dead?” he asked.

“Dead.”

“Good.” It was a single, uninspired word, but it encompassed how every officer working this case felt. “I’ll call for backup,” he continued. “Go get the girl.”

Bel nodded, staring at his bloody leg for a second before bolting down the hall. It took only three tries to learn which key unlocked the attic, and pulling down the retractable ladder, she scrambled up the rungs.

“Oh my god.” She raced across the dusty floor to where a single cot rested below the rafters, but it wasn’t the cot that demanded her attention. It was the girl lying atop it. Agirl with only one ladybug earring in her ear.

“Sarah!” Bel captured the college student and pulled her off the pillow, panicking for an endless moment when the girl’s limp body didn’t respond. “Please, Sarah,” she sobbed. “Please, wake up. You can’t die. Not like this.”

Sarah groaned at Bel’s outburst, her eyes fluttering open, but when she saw Bel, she shoved her weak fists against her face.

“No,” she cried, her fear present even through her drugged state. “No. Please.” She resisted despite her weakness.

“Sarah, I’m here to help,” Bel said, hating how young the girl looked in her terror. “My name is Detective Isobel Emerson. You’re going to be okay. I’m taking you home.”

“Home?” Sarah mumbled as Bel pulled her to her feet. “I want to go home.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She caught the girl as her legs gave out. “You’re safe now.”

“I want my mom.” Sarah collapsed, unable to walk with the drugs ravaging her body, so with a roar of determination, Belhoisted the young woman over her shoulders and made her way unsteadily down the ladder.

“I promise you,” she said through gritted teeth, “I will get you to your mom.”

Sarah mumbled into Bel’s back as she climbed, but her words were unintelligible. She groaned and rambled as Bel cried and strained, but together, they reached the destroyed hallway.

“Emerson?” Griffin shouted.

“I found her!” Bel stumbled down the hall and collapsed to the floor before her boss, Sarah cradled in her arms.

“Oh, thank God.” He inched closer to the women kneeling in the disastrous remains of what was once a suburban paradise.

“She’s alive.” Bel shifted the student until she rested against her chest, her tears falling so forcefully she could barely see the sheriff. “We found her alive.”

Bel stoodin the bullet-torn corridor as the ambulances’ sirens faded into the distance, and staring at the destroyed hallway, she wondered how they’d survived. In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t paid attention to the sound of Jax Frost’s gun, the way it pumped bullets into the wall at an unnatural speed, but looking at the carnage, she wasn’t sure how she’d missed it. Thank God Griffin was a good shot because their attacker had come after them with an assault weapon. For a man who enjoyed killing his victims without violence, he’d certainly had no qualms about ripping the officers to shreds, but then again, she and Griffin weren’t pleasure kills. They’d taken him by surprise, and he’d silently climbed the stairs to find his intruders seconds away from discovering his trophy. They were a threat to his survival,and if he killed them, he’d be free to flee Bajka in the hours it took the police department to realize their boss was missing.

“It’ll take time to catalog the attic, but by the looks of it, Sarah Bristol has been locked up there for days,” Olivia said as she climbeddownthe ladder. “So, we at least have him on kidnapping…” She glanced uncomfortably at what remained of the walls. “And the attempted murder of two police officers. Even if we can’t prove he’s The Matchstick Girl Killer, we have plenty of evidence of his guilt. No one will accuse Griffin of shooting an innocent man, especially since he’s on his way to the hospital with a bullet in his leg.”

Bel involuntarily glanced at the bloodstained carpet. How many times would she have to stare at a pool of blood that had drained from someone saving her life? Three times she’d been spared because someone who cared about her took the attack for her, and three times, she’d been lucky.BothEamon and Griffin had emergedthesurvivors, but one day her luck would run out. At what point would her life cost someone she loved theirs?

“I wish I’d been with you instead of helping Lina with the Jane Does’ evidence,” Olivia said.

“I’m glad you weren’t,” Bel said. “I already lost one partner, and for a moment there, I thought I lost my sheriff. I can’t lose you.”

“Thank God Griffin can aim and Frost couldn’t.” Olivia slipped her hand into Bel’s and clutched it so tight it almost hurt.

“I was certain we wouldn’t make it,” Bel whispered. She didn’t want to frighten her partner more than she already was, but the adrenaline had fled her body the minute she packed Griffin into the ambulance. All that remained was an uncomfortable mixture of fear and relief, and she couldn’t stop the confession. “I know this hallway screams of Frost’s guilt, but weneed tobe thorough. I won’t allow a lawyer to come after Griffin for Frost’s death. We both almost died in this house.Sarah Bristol almost died in this house. So we stay until every inch of this home has been cataloged. Just because our suspect no longer breathes doesn’t mean we can cut corners.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Olivia agreed. “Right now, we have no concrete proof Frost is The Matchstick Girl Killer, but after he shot our sheriff, every officer is on the same page. This is one of the most important scenes of our career.”

“Detective Emerson? Detective Gold?” A forensic tech climbed the stairs and paused behind them. “You need to see this.”

He retreated down the staircase, and the detectives followed him to the basement door. “We think he was down here when you entered the house,” he said as he led them into a finished basement. “It locks from the inside. It’s why you didn’t hear him come in after you.”

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