Page 113 of Aftermath
“Mallory Vice changed her name from Miranda Smith about five years ago. She has owned the building Len lives in for four. There’s not much on her beyond that. She works in the shop under the building. She doesn’t have family in the area and doesn’t have much of a record.”
“Much of a record?” I asked.
“Her name shows in one small report.”
Miranda Smith. I knew that name sounded familiar.
“The couple fighting at the pub,” I said
“Exactly. How did you know?”
“Len made the sheriff give us other small reports for the months before the killings started. Miranda Smith was escorted out of the pub alongside her former fiancé after their break up grew volatile.”
“It’s sad, really,” Mags said. “It looks like he left her only weeks before their wedding.”
The hate toward women and happy relationships… It wasn’t a man who was left. No, she was targeting women like herself, women who had it all: the happy relationship, the bright future ahead of them. They were surrogates for her own self-hatred. She coveted what they had and couldn’t stand to see others like that.
“Oh, God,” Mags said through the phone. “You left Len back at her apartment with her.”
My stomach sank, knowing Mallory had to be the reason she wasn’t answering. I’d seen the way she cared for Len and couldn’t imagine she would hurt her friend, but I didn’t know what mental instability could do to change that.
“I need to figure out where Mallory would take Len if she is not there,” I said.
“I’m on it,” she said firmly. She hung up without a goodbye, and everything inside me hoped I was wrong.
My foot dropped heavy on the gas pedal as I sped through the back roads to Briarport. The car wasn’t moving fast enough. Each second was one that Len may be in trouble.
It was easy to piece together the moment I came into town, Len’s interest in me sparked Mallory to kill again. She was jealous of the attention Len gave me. She’d become codependent on her, and it was the only thing keeping this town safe, stopping the killings.
It could’ve turned bad any moment. Any fight, any new person in Len’s life could’ve set it off. I was glad it was me. At least now, I had a chance to make things right, to get justice for all those victims.
I finally pulled up outside the apartment. The car was practically blocking the road, but I didn’t care. I left it running and sprinted to the back door.
There was a code, but I didn’t have time to call Mags to find it. Instead, I kicked in the door, and it flew open. My feet carried me up the stairs to Len’s apartment. The door was cracked open, and I heard Alonzo and Birdie inside.
The cats sat by the food bowl, which was completely empty. Len never left without feeding them, which meant she’d been gone for a while. The chance was slim, but I still quickly walked through the apartment to make sure she wasn’t injured somewhere.
Mallory had taken her, and I had no idea where.
As I realized everything I tried to avoid was happening all over again, I felt helpless. I’d been reckless, trying to work this case myself without back up. Now, Len was paying the price.
I would never forgive myself if something happened to her.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I quickly pulled it out to see Mag‘s name on the screen.
“Did you find her?” I asked.
“Not entirely, but I did track Mallory’s phone to a location just outside of town, near the water.
“The warehouse,” I guessed before Mags could say it, realizing it was the one place nearby with enough room for no one to notice if Mallory took her there.
“Should I send you the location again?” Mags asked.
“No I have it memorized,” I said. “Call Grey and tell them where I’m heading.”
I sprinted down the steps of the apartment and found my car still waiting outside.
My heart raced, and I could barely hear myself over the growing worry causing a rush in my head. My foot pressed down on the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward, flying through the streets. I avoided pedestrians and traffic while maintaining a speed far over the limits. Not a single thing could stop me from getting to Len.
