Page 24 of What's Left of Me

“What happens now?” Hazel sat forward. “Do you arrest him?”

“We can’t just arrest him, but I can get a warrant for his properties, bank records. It’s more than what we’ve had until now. If Hank Zaffy is the serial killer, his days are numbered. I promise you that.”

He stood and turned to leave.

“Will you keep us informed?” Nick asked. Of course they’d all arrived at the house as soon as they’d heard the agent was coming.

“I will.”

Once he left, I just sat there, a little shocked and a lot unsatisfied. Adonis wasn’t stupid. My heart was telling me this wasn’t him, or if it was and he was prepared for getting caught, that meant he had a plan…and his plans were ugly; his plans were deadly.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Noel

The restof the day was a wash. Phoenix didn’t want to be around anyone, and Aziza said that was normal after going through what he had. Was Hank the killer? Was it going to be over this easily? I supposed that was possible, but something didn’t sit right with me. This guy was meticulous. He’d know his voice would be a trigger, right? He wasn’t blind to the fact that Phoenix was with the police, that the sound of his voice was easily a thread that could unravel everything for him.

His silence was what worried me the most. According to all the research, the news reports, everything, timing was crucial. Phoenix was on his schedule, and I wondered how his absence was going to affect the killer’s plans.

The following day, the house was pretty quiet. Hazel went with most of the brothers to Saintly Sweets to see Lizzy. Nick and Matt went to the library on some off idea to skim through archives. Honestly, I didn’t know what their thinking was, but Matt was saying something about the movieItand how thearchives held information.…The man needed to get out more. I let them go with a wave of my hand.

Angel was spending a lot of time with Aziza and Two. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I overheard them talking about Two being released to a long, lost sister. I couldn’t focus on any of that right now, though.

As I walked through the halls, I heard music playing. Not Linkin Park or anything—no, this was classical. I recognized the song but wouldn’t be able to name it if I tried.

It was coming from the library. I peeked in and Phoenix was sitting on one of the couches, watching something on a tablet.

Phoenix’s hand was on his chin, his eyes gliding across the screen. The song was haunting; my heart hurt just listening to it. I stepped in and he peered over the tablet at me. Our eyes met briefly before he went back to watching, and I took it as invitation to join him.

I positioned myself behind him and saw that he was watching a ballet. I squinted for a moment and realized it wasn’t just any ballet—it was him, dancing.

I didn’t want to interrupt, so I simply enjoyed the show. Phoenix barely moved, his other hand clenched tightly, which betrayed the relaxed demeanor I’d thought he’d had when I arrived.

Once the piece ended, he hit pause.

“Giselle.” He looked up at me. “The ballet.”

I nodded, came around, and sat beside him. “I got the role of Albrecht. Are you familiar with the ballet?”

“The music was familiar, but no, I don’t think I ever saw it.”

He placed the tablet down and regarded me. “It’s haunting, depressing, and full of sorrow.”

I chuckled. “Aren’t many ballets?”

He shrugged. “I feel tragedy belongs to Shakespeare and the ballet.”

“I’m guessing everyone dies in the end?”

The corner of his mouth curled, and I considered it a small victory. “Almost…Albrecht actually ends up alone, sorrowful, broken. Death would have been a gift for him. At least then, he might have been able to be with the love of his life.”

“Jesus.” I reached over and grabbed the tablet. “We gotta find a happy ballet.”

He laughed, and I froze. When I glanced at him, he was watching me, the smile fading slowly.

“You should do that more.”

He bit his lip, and his finger started tapping against his leg. “Do what?”

---