Page 62 of Three for a Girl

“Struck gold?” Chad asked.

“Gary Vulux, Sophia Price and Toni Clay.”

“Who are Sophia Price and Toni Clay?

“They’ve been filed as missing people. Sophia Price went missing four years ago. Toni Clay eighteen months ago. All under sixteen. They all followed Ellen on social media.”

“Ellen’s linked to three missing people.”

Josh nodded. “That we know about. And what did you find in the car in the garage? Pillowcase, duct tape, rope, and a syringe of …” He stopped and frowned. “What was it full of?”

Chad ignored the twist in his gut. “Xylazine.”

“Which does what exactly?”

Faye’s gaze pressed into the side of Chad’s face. He glanced at her and she snapped her eyes away from him.

“It paralyzes, makes you completely helpless. You think she and Kerion might have something to do with these disappearances?”

Josh shrugged. “It’s a thought.”

“Were there any messages between them and Ellen?”

“No, but in both Ellen and Kerion’s bios they both have a lion and a padlock emoji.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ally asked.

Josh sighed. “It’s a sign for Lionshare. It’s a chatroom that exists on the dark web. A minefield. Nothing is saved. There’s nothing to search through. Everyone is a ghost.”

“I’m sick and tired of chasing ghosts.”

They all looked up when the DI’s office door opened. He stepped out, buttoning his jacket. His lips were pressed in a grim line, and he stared at the floor before lifting his gaze and finding each of them one after the other.

“He hasn’t been formally identified yet, but the officers on scene have assured me it’s him. They’ve found Kerion.”

“Where?” Ally asked.

“Ashgrove woods. Found by a man walking his dog.”

“They always get lucky, don’t they?”

“The scene’s being secured. He’ll have to be formally identified, but only once they’ve removed his t-shirt.”

Chad flashed a look at Ally, then asked. “What about his t-shirt?”

“He’s wearing a Scottsdale football shirt.”

****

Chad stared at the lifeless body of Kerion Blakely.

An ant walked across his face, slipped over his eyelashes, and wandered across his milky eye. Kerion was lost in an endless glare, no longer fixed to the trees above—a white tent had been put over his body. The Scottsdale shirt stretched over his chest looked uncomfortably tight around his bloated body, and dried blood stained the material.

The mask over Chad’s face did little to block the smell of death. The heat in the air made it worse, attracting buzzing flies that crawled over Kerion’s parted lips. From 300 yards away they’d been able to smell Kerion, smell him before the tent or the officers surrounding it came into view.

Ally waved one of the flies away. “Little fuckers.”

“Rope burn on his wrists.” Chad said.

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