Page 40 of Sinful Reality

“True. But besides the park, the single status of each mother, and the eventual death of each child, this is the first connection we’ve made in a decade. Even loose, it’s the best we’ve got.”

“Thanks to me,” Aubree murmurs, checking her nails and avoiding Minka’s fiery gaze. “I suggested that.”

“So I handed names out to the squad,” Gilbert continues, oblivious to his extended audience, “and told them to ask the same questions. Focus on what they were doing in the weeks leading up to January eleventh. I spoke to Ariana Farelly’s and McKenzie Brooks’ moms. They, too, copped to doing similar. Birthday outings or coupons in the newspaper. Single moms’ve gotta do whatever they gotta do to get through and still enjoy something nice. Farelly also swung by the fruit market,andgot a free cookie and juice on her birthday month. The woman who worked at the fruit stall—she was a single mom too, remember?—well she was the one who planted the idea with her boss to buy a juicer and offer free perks to customers. Come by and buy your fruit, show your ID and geta free juice on your birthday. That way, they use over-ripe produce they wouldn’t be able to sell anyway, create goodwill amongst the community, and keep customers coming their way.”

“And just to confirm,” Minka growls, “the boss—AKA Andy Stein—with a history of DV, abuse, and neglect, the one who served time in prison, and eventually lost his child to a woman who would obviously become a single mother, thus, creating a target that matches our case MO to the dot and making these women the perfect target for revenge, isnotour guy? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Gilbert chuckles, the scratch of his laughter echoing through the line and scraping on the temper I remind myself not to lose.

“That’s what I’m telling you. He would’ve made theperfectpatsy, if only his alibi wasn’t so tight. And before you ask,” he adds quickly. “Yes, he’s actually dead. No, he didn’t ascend from hell and come back to continue his work. No, no one else was buried in his place, and yes, I’ve personally seen the footage of his body being loaded into the furnace and his cremation taking place. And since we’re on the topic, no, he never hit on or in any way made the single mom who worked for him nervous or uncomfortable. He never threatened her or her daughter, never harmed them, was never alone with the girl, and to this day, the woman says he was the best damn boss she ever had.”

Defeated, Minka slumps and harrumphs. “Fine. So what did the rest of the squad find?”

“Similar. Moms doing what moms do. Cutting coupons, visiting free museums, collecting free cookies and juice and donuts, and whatever else they could find. It wasn’t always December or January, wasn’t always a birthday promo, wasn’t always a coupon from the Sunday Times. Each of them varies, which makes the connection a little less steady, and many of them recall ‘doing the rounds’ and visiting these places but couldn’t give me a definitive list of where they went. Not all of them were email sign ups, which makes the trail shakier still.”

But it’s a line to follow,I think in my head.One of them will be a common denominator.

“I have a meeting scheduled with Janiesa’s mom in a little over an hour, now that we have this new direction. I wanna talk to her and see where she’s visited lately. And I was talking to Andy’s employee earlier,but we got cut short because she had to go to treatment. She’s got a kidney thing going on but welcomed a call back if I need it.”

“Do you need it?” Minka questions.

“I mean…” He shrugs until the rustle of his shirt echoes through the line. “The fruit stall overlooked the park a bunch of our girls were taken from, which means she saw a lot of what happened on a daily basis back then. He changed things up eventually, but he kept to the same date every single year. If you’re a single mom and you have a little girl, you’re gonna glance over at the park on January eleventh. Youmust. Even if not consciously. I’ve yet to find a connect between her and the later cases, since he changed location and obviously, she didn’t. But she seems like she wants to help, and her memories are reasonably clear, considering how much time has passed. These other women we’re talking to, they’re moms whose entire lives were shattered. Their baby girls were stolen, and later, returned in a horrifying state. They’re trying to forget, no doubt. But Gloria’s daughter was safe, right there with her. She homeschooled her kids and played with them in the park, so they were never truly at risk. But she would’ve been hyper-vigilant. I’m hoping that hyper-vigilance means she saw something that’ll help.”

“Maybe. Hopefully.” Dragging her head up, Minka sniffles and pathetically peers across to lock eyes with me. So I dig a hand into my pocket and take out her next round of meds, then I circle toward the door in search of water, only for Aubree to nod toward the corner of the long steel counter lining the glass wall.

A brand-new bottle, just waiting to be used.

Such a good girl.

I snatch it up and crack the seal open, then wandering toward my wife in silence, I place two capsules in her palm and wait with the bottle while she tips her head back.

“Have you talked to Doctor Wells yet?” Weary, she swallows the pills and takes the water next to wash them down. “I know he was M.E. on a few of the earlier cases. Have you shown him the files and picked his brain?”

“We’ve talked, but he’s on the verge of retirement, too. And off the record,” he lowers his voice, “but I feel like he just doesn’t give a shit anymore. Apathetic at best. These girls have plagued his career, andevery case so far has gone unsolved. His notes are, from what I can tell, perfect, and his inclusion in the earlier years is commendable, but when I ask questions now, it’s like he’s given up.”

“That can happen, I guess.” Shakily, Minka offers the water back. “It’s soul-shattering to give something your all, only to keep coming up empty. I’ve seen it in a dozen techs over the years.”

“But here you are, Min.” His voice is just fucking smooth enough to bring my brows up high. “Still fighting the good fight. There’s a reason I called you, and it has everything to do with the fact I knew you’d still have your heart in it. I’m sad to know you’ve worked yourself to sickness.”

“Not sick?—”

“Not surprised,” he amends. “But I am sad about it. I’ll see if I can pull Doctor Mason in, since he caught the Reading case. Maybe a fresh look will knock something loose. In the meantime, I want you to get some rest, okay? We’re gonna nail him this time, Min. I need you healthy for when that happens.”

Wary, her eyes flicker to mine. “It’s your case,” she counters carefully. “But I’ll assist where I can. Do you mind if I call the fruit shop lady?”

“Do I—” Stunned, he trips on his words. “You wanna call my witness?”

“Just to talk. The fact I’m a woman might make her a little more comfortable. If she’s holding on to anything that could help, I wanna get it out before it’s lost to time and poor recall.”

“I mean… Sure. I don’t mind. Keep it clean,” he adds quickly. “Introduce yourself as chief medical examiner, explain how you worked Alana’s case. We need to be able to present this in court someday, so make sure you cross all those t’s.”

“I will. Promise.”

“And maybe do it tomorrow,” he snickers. “Ya know, when you’re lessnot sick. You sound like you drank methylated spirits for breakfast and chased it with a lit match.”

“Funny.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll keep the chat formal and send my notes over after. Meanwhile, you’ve still gotta find a witness who remembers a guy hanging out at the park. Or one who worked nearby.Better yet, find a guy who worked nearby, hung out at the park,andoffered free cookies to single moms.”

“Tall order,” he teases. “Anything else?”

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