Page 21 of Sinister Legacy
Cassie: I heard it from Sienna.
Cassie: Apparently, it’s all over the news.
“Fuck,” I whisper shakily, palming my forehead, then louder, “Fuck!”
The rain is lashing at the window. I can even hear it on the roof.
Keira: Is Madison ok?
What a stupid question. Of course she’s not okay.
What do I do?
Keira: I’m going to the hospital.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I hurry downstairs and call out, “Mom, I need a lift to the hospital.”
She’s by the sink, pouring a dash of liquid dish soap into the hot water. As I come tumbling into the kitchen, out of breath and crying, she stops what she’s doing and blinks at me over her shoulder before slowly turning. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know… Madison was attacked.”
Seated at the table, my stepdad stands up. “I’ll take her, it’s fine.”
Mom says nothing as her gaze strays to the windows and the rain outside. It’s darkening out there, and it won’t be long before the streetlights come on. She turns back to the sink and puts a dirty pot into the water.
This is what she does.
She shuts down.
“Come on,” Allen says, steering me out of the kitchen with his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go to the hospital.”
The woman’s voice on the car radio grates on my damn nerves with her endless chatter in between songs. Reaching forward, I switch it off, preferring silence. Especially now that I have so much on my mind.
Officer Riveiro, a Spanish woman in her late twenties with a severe bun, peers at me sideways as she drives. “What are your thoughts on the Madison girl?”
We briefed back at the station before heading to the hospital, so she already knows. Now she’s making conversation to kill the silence that seems to stretch on while the wipers fly across the windshield. The seat warmers are on for the first time this year. So not only do I get to listen to the rain on the roof while my ass is slowly heating up, but I also get to work an endless amount of overtime, thanks to the lunatic. My wife is going to be so happy.
I throw my hands up in a helpless gesture. They settle back on the folder in my lap, filled with photographs of each crime scene. “It was a copycat killer right off the bat. We’re sitting ducks, just waiting for the killer to make his move again. Thanks to Jimmy fucking Hill, we know what he’ll do next time. We just don’t know who he’ll target.”
Officer Riveiro nods, her grip tight on the steering wheel. “What about his daughter?”
Reaching for my lukewarm coffee in the center console, I take a sip and then wince. “Cheap shit.”
Officer Riveiro manages a small smile.
“Our killer has staged Jimmy’s daughter in the center of this. She’s the queen on the chessboard. We have to assume that he intends for her to be his final victim.” I hesitate, rubbing my beard. “I bet my yearly salary that he plans on killing her on the execution day.”
Silence descends on the car before Officer Riveiro clears her throat. “What about you, Wells?”
The cup’s logo stares back at me. I drag my thumb over it, feeling each groove of the ridged paper cup. The detective in charge of Jimmy Hill’s case was brutally killed shortly before Jimmy was arrested. “I can’t let my thoughts go there. Regardless of who is in charge, they’ll be at risk. If not me, it’ll be someone else.”
Officer Riveiro stays silent.
Opening the folder on my lap, I straighten the photo on top and study the pool of blood on the bathroom floor back at the high school. This girl is lucky to be alive. The question now is, will he try to replicate Jimmy Hill’s second murder again, or will he move straight on to the third victim?
“We need to speak to the kids.”
“You think a high school student is behind all of this?”
