"Because the other threats, you can negotiate with.You can pay them off, cut deals, find compromises.But this thing?"Reyes finally met her eyes, and what she saw there made her stomach clench."This thing doesn't want money or territory or respect.It just wants us dead.All of us.Anyone who's ever moved product on these waters."
By the time Isla finished the interviews and joined James in the conference room, she felt like she'd been through a war.The exhaustion was bone-deep now, but beneath it burned a fierce determination.The picture was becoming clearer, even if the identity of their killer remained frustratingly obscure.
James looked up from the notes he'd been reviewing as she entered.He'd conducted his own set of interviews—legitimate ship crews who worked the same waters, captains and dock workers who might have seen something without realizing its significance.The whiteboard behind him was covered in new information, names, dates, and locations that mapped the scope of what they were dealing with.
"The legitimate crews are spooked too," he said, pushing a cup of coffee toward her that she accepted gratefully."Word's spread through the entire maritime community.Nobody knows the full story, but they know something bad is happening.A couple of the fishing captains I talked to are refusing to go out without armed security."
Isla sank into a chair, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic mug."The criminal network is in chaos.Half of them have suspended operations, the other half are running scared.Our killer has created a climate of fear that's affecting everyone on the water."
"But we're not any closer to identifying them," James said, voicing the frustration they both felt.
"No."Isla took a sip of coffee, letting the bitter warmth settle through her."Everything we've learned confirms our theory—the targets are criminal operations, the methodology is consistent, the killer has intimate knowledge of the waterfront.But nothing points to a specific individual."
She stood and moved to the whiteboard, studying the information they'd accumulated.Victim profiles, vessel locations, timeline of attacks stretching back months—possibly years if Callahan's rumors were accurate.Somewhere in this data was a pattern, a signature that could help them narrow the field.
"We need to approach this differently," she said finally, turning to face James."We've been focusing on the victims—who they were, what they were doing, how they were killed.But we need to focus on the killer.Build a profile based on what we know about their capabilities."
James nodded slowly."Military background.That's what Dr.Henley's analysis suggested.Someone trained in close-quarters combat, comfortable with a knife, capable of taking down multiple targets without raising alarm."
"More than that."Isla began pacing, her mind working through the evidence."They have access to vessels—either their own or the ability to commandeer others without being noticed.They understand maritime operations, shipping schedules, and the rhythm of life on the waterfront.They know how to identify criminal operations despite the layers of cover these networks use."
"So we're looking for someone with military training, maritime expertise, and connections to intelligence that lets them identify smuggling operations," James summarized."That's a pretty specific profile."
"There's something else," Isla said, stopping in front of the window.The rain had stopped, but the sky remained gray, the lake a dark mirror reflecting the clouds above."The way Reyes described it—this thing doesn't want money or territory.It just wants them dead.That's not a criminal motivation.That's not even a typical serial killer motivation."
"What, then?"
"Justice."The word hung in the air between them."Or what someone believes is justice.They're targeting criminals specifically, killing them with precision rather than cruelty, removing what they see as threats from these waters.It's vigilantism—the most extreme form."
James was quiet for a moment, processing the implications."A vigilante with military training, maritime knowledge, and the resources to identify and track criminal operations.Someone who believes they're doing the right thing."
"Which makes them incredibly dangerous," Isla said."Because they're not going to stop.Every criminal they eliminate validates their mission, reinforces their belief that they're necessary.And if the supply of criminals runs low..."
"They might expand their definition of who deserves to die."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of what they were facing.Outside the window, Lake Superior stretched toward the horizon, its surface calm and seemingly peaceful.But somewhere out there, a predator was waiting—watching, planning, preparing for the next hunt.
"We need to search military records," Isla said finally, moving back to the table where her laptop sat open."Look for anyone with the right training who has a connection to this area.Navy, Coast Guard, Marines—anyone with combat and maritime experience.Cross-reference with anyone who's had significant life events that might trigger this kind of mission."
"That could be hundreds of people," James pointed out, but he was already pulling his own laptop toward him.
"Then we narrow it down."Isla's fingers moved across the keyboard, pulling up databases she'd used countless times before."We look for someone who's local or has become local in the past few years.Someone with the free time and resources to conduct surveillance and plan attacks.Someone who might have a personal reason to hate smugglers or criminals in general."
"A grudge," James said."Something that set them on this path."
"Everyone has an origin story," Isla agreed."Even serial killers.Especially vigilantes.Something happened to this person—something that convinced them the system couldn't protect the innocent, that they had to take matters into their own hands."
The search would take hours.They would sift through records and reports, looking for the needle in a haystack that was their killer.But for the first time since theNorthern Dawnhad been discovered, Isla felt like they had a direction.A profile to guide their investigation, a theory to test against the evidence.
"James," she said, not looking up from her screen."When we find this person—and we will find them—it's going to get complicated.They probably believe, genuinely believe, that they're doing the right thing.That they're heroes, not killers."
"Does that change how we approach them?"
"No."Isla's voice was firm."Murder is murder, regardless of who the victims are.But it means they won't surrender easily.They'll see us as obstacles to their mission, maybe even as enemies."
"Great," James muttered."A trained killer with a messiah complex who sees law enforcement as the enemy.This should be fun."
Despite everything—the exhaustion, the bodies, the fear spreading through the maritime community—Isla felt the ghost of a smile cross her face.This was what she'd trained for, what she'd devoted her life to.Not just catching killers, but understanding them.Finding the patterns in the chaos, the logic in the madness, the human being behind the monster.
