“No, I don’t.” Ursa bristled as she relented, and Bel could feel the disappointment waft off Olivia in scorching waves.
“But,” Ursa continued. “I do have a hot tub.”
“Hey,we got the results back on the embalming fluid the mermaids were submerged in.” Agent Barry jogged to catch up with the detectives as they entered the station. “Good call testing it against the fluid Dr. Blaubart used on his wives.”
“So it was a match?” Bel asked—finally, some good news.
“Not exact, no,” Barry said. “Close, though. Very close, and like the samples from Blaubart’s lab, this mixture is a blend of known elements and unidentifiable components. They don’t match any known substances, which, as head-scratching as it is, makes more sense when you consider Dr. Charles Blaubart. His illegal surgery served the globe. He was bound to meet chemists who didn’t publicize their products, but how did someone from Bajka get their hands on unregulated materials?”
Bel and Olivia exchanged a sideways glance as the trio entered the breakroom to fill their coffee cups. Barry suspected there were things in this world that logic couldn’t explain. Whether he admitted it or not, he understood, but unlike the detectives, he’d never experienced the magnitude of what lived in humanity’s shadows. The women had, though, and they both knew that the unknown properties in the embalming fluid weren’t the secret formulas of black-market chemists. Human ingenuity couldn’t achieve perfect preservation. That was black magic’s evil.
“Blaubart and Jax Frost—the Matchstick Girl Killer—were in direct connection,” Bel said. “Blaubart helped Frost identify out-of-town girls no one would miss, and Frost let the womenBlaubart wanted to transform into his next wife escape his kidnappings. The Matchstick Girl Killer murdered girls for over a decade while living in Bajka, and our theory is that the Mermaid Killer is also from this area. There’s a chance the two crossed paths. Frost froze girls to death. Our killer drowned his victims. They aren’t so different in their depravity. It’s a logical assumption to guess that if Frost knew our Mermaid Killer, then he could’ve facilitated an embalming fluid sale with Blaubart.”
“As far-fetched as it sounds, I’ve seen weirder be true,” Barry said. “We should look into Frost’s local connections. See if someone stands out.”
“We can try, but I doubt we’ll find anything.” Bel leaned against the counter, coffee mug almost too hot in her hands. “Jax Frost was an award-winning photographer who worked both at Bajka’s news station and internationally. He crossed paths with countless people. It’ll be difficult to pinpoint an unusual or criminal connection.”
“I realize this is a needle in a haystack, but what else do we have?” Barry shrugged. “Did you find anything at the tattoo shop?”
“We found something, all right,” Olivia chimed in. “But can we use any of it? No.”
“You found something?” Sheriff Griffin asked as he joined the trio in the breakroom.
“Not exactly,” Olivia clarified, and the detectives launched into a quick recap of their visit to Neptune’s Ink, earning a curse from their boss when they ended their summary.
“It’s not illegal to have mermaid tattoos.” Griffin crossed his arms over his chest as if he were trying to contain his frustration. “Or mermaid décor, or a hot tub, for that matter.”
“Tattoos, mermaids, a body of chlorinated water,” Olivia said. “It seems so obvious… but then again, when is it ever the simple answer with these cases?”
“Agreed,” Agent Barry said. “Neptune’s Ink might be what we’re looking for, but I still want to revisit Jax Frost with fresh eyes.”
“Why Frost?” Griffin asked. “Is he connected to this?”
“We aren’t sure, but I’ll fill you in,” Barry said. “Detectives.” He nodded his goodbye, and Bel offered him a smile. Contrary to popular cop dramas, the police usually welcomed the FBI when cases were beyond their capability, but Bel particularly loved having Agent Jameson Barry in her corner. She was certain that Eamon also loved that another layer of protection had been added to her equation.
“We’ll revisit the Jax Frost evidence,” she promised as Barry and her boss left the room. “I’ll call you if we find something.”
“I got nothing.”Olivia threw the papers she was scouring onto the table. It was well past dinnertime, and the detectives wouldn’t have minded working through their meal if they’d had something to show for it, but they were frustratingly empty-handed. “Tell me you’ve found something?”
“Nothing.” Bel leaned back in her chair. “But Jax Frost froze girls to death for over a decade. Dr. Charles Blaubart murdered his wives and ran a black market surgery for years. These weren’t sloppy men. The only reason I put two and two together was because of a framed news article in a doctor’s office. And if we hadn’t identified the Matchstick Girl Killer, that photo would’ve meant nothing to me. I doubt our Mermaid Killer made his acquaintance with Frost known, though… if they even knew each other at all.”
“And if our killer is local, there’s probably no record of their relationship. They lived too close to risk traceable connections,”Olivia said. “No phone calls. No text messages. No emails to order dark magic-infused embalming fluid.”
“There are many ways to communicate without leaving traces,” Bel said. “They could’ve dropped notes in each other’s mailboxes and then burned the letters. Or they could’ve employed ways that leave traces but are undetectable to anyone but the recipient. These men operated under the radar for years. Both Jax Frost and Charles Blaubart were smart and well-respected. They were people no one ever suspected.”
“And you think the Mermaid Killer is the same?” Olivia asked.
“I do. They’re probably someone who’s in the public eye, or someone no one would suspect because the life they created acts as a shield. You can’t see who they really are because they’re skilled at hiding in plain sight.”
“Like a tattoo shop,” Olivia said. “But not just any tattoo shop. The best in the area. The place everyone trusts with their health and safety when they’re getting needles shoved into their skin for the sake of art.”
“Yeah.” Bel stared at the mountain of unhelpful paperwork spread out before them. “Exactly like the best tattoo shop in the area.”
“I got you a—”
“We received the employee list from the funeral home,” Olivia cut Bel off mid-sentence.
“Awesome.” Bel placed the Espresso Shot to-go cup in front of her partner. “And I got you a latte.”
