Page 48 of Evidence of a Folktale

The tech replayed the clip, emailing Bel a copy when it finished, but nothing stood out. It was a generic winter weather update. An undisclosed day in an unmentioned year in an undetermined location in January.A coldmonth andaphoto of snow in the woods. Maybe this was a witch hunt meant to confuse them while the killer escaped justice.

“I didn’t hear anything,” the tech said. “Just that it was cold and January. But as you said, the contact lensesalready implied it was winter.”

“Wait…” Bel whirled on him, something clicking in her brain at his words. “A cold place and a month.”

“Yeah?” The word sounded like a question.

“I have an idea.” She charged out of the room, leaving a confused man in her wake as she climbed the stairs to knock on the sheriff’s door.

“Come in!” he called, but she was already opening it.

“Listen to this.” She opened her email and played the recording for her boss.

“What was that?” he asked.

“We found a flash drive inside Roja’s earpiece,” she explained. “Its only file was a weather report, though.”

“Well, that’s… random.”

“I thought so too,” Bel said, a spark flickering in her eyes as her brain assembled the puzzle pieces. “But we wondered if the contact lenses photo was the scene of his next murder. It wasn’t, but it’s still a location. Then this weather report is for somewhere cold, which matches the image, but it adds another piece of information. The month.”

“Okay?” he said, clearly not following her.

“What five questions do detectives always ask themselves when solving a crime?” Bel leaned over his desk before answering herownquestion. “Who, what, where, when, and why?”

“Right.” Griffin squinted as if it might help him see where her train of thought was going.

“The contact lenses had a photo of a location. The where,” she explained. “The news report mentions a month. Both are vague and unhelpful, but it doesn’t change that January is still ameasurement of time.”

“Which would be when,” Griffin said, catching on.

“What if these clues are part of a bigger puzzle? What if the snowy woods are the where and January is the when? The killer is trying to paint us a picture.”

“There are five W questions.” The color drained from Griffin’s face. “If you’re right, we only have twoanswered.”

“Which means we still need Who, What, and Why to solve his riddles,” Bel said. “He isn’t done killing. There are three more murders to go.”

“I don’t knowwhat I can tell you about Mr. Chayce that you haven’t already learned,” Evelyn Pierce said.

Griffin had gathered the precinct to brief them on Bel’s suspicions before questioning the producers yet again. He didn’t normally share her theories without concrete evidence, but with victims this prolific, her boss had no intention of letting this case turn into a serial killing. One more body, and the murders of Aesop’s Files crew members transformed from disturbing crimes to the work of a sadistic serial killer. Humanity’s obsession with true crime would spread news of these homicides like wildfire, and if discussing half-baked speculations about disgruntled ex-cons lit a fire in the department to find Chayce, he’d share every theory Bel dreamed up. Especially because she had a sixth sense about her when it came to death, and if she believed three more had to die before their killer left Bajka in his wake, he promised to hunt down her every lead, no matter how absurd.

After the briefing, Bel and Griffin had cornered the producers with the hope they’d have more information on Orion Chayce than Ellery Roja did, but Miss Pierce’s tone told Bel all she needed to know. Nothing productive would come from this conversation… again.

“He was overseeing the props on set that day, and he wasn’t paying attention,” Evelyn said. “His carelessness resulted in another crew member’s death, and the police ruled the accident a byproduct of his negligence. He was charged with involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to a few years in prison. It’s a fairly straightforward if not unfortunate story.”

“Were you aware Mr. Chayce was out on parole?” Bel asked, watching both producers for their response.

“Yes, we’d heard,” Alistair Rot said.

“Did you know he’d broken parole?” Bel asked. “He’s missing.”

“No.” An odd flicker disrupted Evelyn’s expression. “We hadn’t heard.”

And there it was.

“We believe he might be in town,” Bel pushed, secretly smug that both Pierce and Rot reacted exactly how she’d hoped.

“If he was, I’m sure your people would’ve already found him,” Alistair Rot said. “I doubt he’s here.”

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