“I could have done without being the one to figure that out.” Bit swiveled in his chair, the movement causing a minor avalanche of empty ramen cups. Considering he’d devoured an entire pizza on his own last night, with a few additional garlic knots, Brook wasn’t sure how he had room for a midnight snack. “Next time someone needs to verify a serial killer is still active, I vote for Theo. He can handle himself in a blizzard.”
“You handled yourself just fine,” Brook affirmed as she made her way around the table toward the fireplace. “And I don’t believe the unsub is active. What was most likely proven yesterday was that he didn't stop killing because he was dead or incarcerated—hechoseto stop. And now he's worried we'll disrupt his life. So, we start at the beginning, and see what shakes loose.”
“According to Heather’s parents, friends, and colleagues, she wasn't in a relationship at the time of her death,” Theo said from his position at the end of the bed. He was facing outward, whereas Sylvie had propped herself up against the metal headboard with a pillow. “Bit’s brief conversation with Paula Stillman also confirms Heather’s relationship status. She led a quiet life, with the exception of Thursday evenings.”
“Not brief enough,” Bit muttered in response to Theo’s comment about Heather’s neighbor.
Bit’s reply caused Theo to smirk before he brought up an interesting find from yesterday.
“Figg Whitlow was seen arguing with Heather.” Theo lifted one leg so he could rest his forearm on his knee, giving Bit a little more room to collect the ramen cups and toss them into the small garbage pail under the table. “The Wheats weren’t close enough to hear the exchange, but Whitlow’s body language was enough to catch the couple’s attention.”
“How confident are we that the volunteer program wasn’t the only thing in Heather’s life that she kept under wraps?” Brook asked, knowing full well just how easy it was to pull the wool over an entire town. No one wanted to believe their friends and family members lived anything other than a typical life. “If Heather was afraid no one would approve of her extracurricular activities, maybe she believed the same about Figg Whitlow.”
“You might be onto something,” Sylvie said, glancing up from her tablet. “When Brook and I met with Heather’s parents, they still spoke about Brett Sorsdal like he was the son-in-law they should’ve had. It was almost like they were clinging to that version of the past. Maybe Heather understood just how rooted they were in their opinions. Maybe she was afraid of how they’d react if they found out she was interested in the town’s so-called bad boy. Parents are quick to judge—and a neck tattoo doesn’t exactly screamtrustworthy family man. I can pay a visit to the tattoo parlor tomorrow.”
“There were two mothers in the school’s lobby when I was speaking with the Wheats. I can pretty much guarantee that Figg Whitlow has already been informed that we know of his argument with Heather.”
“Theo, you should go with Sylvie tomorrow for those interviews,” Brook advised now that their circumstances had changed. “I want Bit to remain here.”
Brook could sense that they wanted to argue, but the unsub was beginning to panic. Since Figg Whitlow was one of the fewmen on their list they had yet to interview, it was best to conduct the interview with two team members.
“We can eliminate Tyler Quinn as a suspect,” Brook advised as she enjoyed the warmth of the fire. “He doesn’t fit the profile, and he was also at the station with his lawyer when the unsub paid Bit a visit. Sheriff Donovan confirmed they were still processing paperwork involving the hit and run until early evening.”
“The reentry program Theo checked out yesterday shut down about six years ago,” Bit added as he continued to focus on one of his screens. “Lack of funding from the state, according to the newspaper archives.”
“Heather’s art course was popular, according to the head organizer of the program.” Theo was also staring intently at Bit's screen. “I gave Bit a list of the former inmates who attended that particular class.”
“I've already uploaded background checks on three of the felons,” Bit advised, reaching for the prepackaged bag of powdered donuts that Sylvie had picked up at the convenience store yesterday. He rolled sideways to a spot at the table that he’d cleared to eat messy snacks. “Two with felonies for auto theft, one for grand theft. Their records reveal a history of manipulation and deceit, but not violence. We are still waiting on two more background checks, and one is still fully pending. The federal system is backlogged, which is slowing things down.”
“What about the program organizer? The person who would have recruited Heather to teach these classes?”
“Dorothy Wilkerson,” Theo supplied after taking a glance at his notebook. “Older, and now completely retired from social work. I spoke to her in person yesterday, and she stated that she can’t quite recall how Heather came to her wanting a position. For what it’s worth, I believe her.”
Theo picked up his water bottle, taking a long sip before tucking it back against his leg.
“And Brett Sorsdal?”
Brook met Sylvie’s gaze as they both considered Theo’s inquiry. Brett's demeanor during their visit had been controlled, though clearly agitated by their presence. His protective stance toward his brother seemed genuine, yet in a way that suggested there might be something else.
“His woodworking skills indicate patience, precision, and artistic sensibility,” Brook replied, carefully weighing each word. “He maintains a workshop that shows meticulous organization. There's a perfectionism there that aligns with aspects of our unsub's behavior. We can’t rule him out.”
“According to Brett Sorsdal’s background check, he has no criminal history,” Sylvie interjected, scrolling through information on her tablet. “Not even a parking ticket. But…”
Sylvie leaned forward, causing the pillow behind her to slip down against the metal headboard. She’d obviously discovered something of interest.
“Brook, remember when Brett mentioned checking Zeke out of the care home for a week or two every other month or so?” Sylvie asked, pulling Brook’s attention back to the matter at hand. “It started eleven years ago.”
Bit began to cough, as if he’d inhaled the white powder from the donuts into his lungs. Brook realized almost immediately that he’d gotten the information regarding Zeke Sorsdal’s care in a way that blurred the lines. Considering this was a private client and not a federal investigation, she’d ignore the chain of evidence.
“Before that, Brett would visit his brother every Sunday,” Sylvie added while scrolling through the information on the screen of her tablet. “I can’t find any reason for the change in routine.”
“Did this begin before or after Heather’s death?” Brook asked as she grabbed her mug and took the few steps to the end of the table.
Not wanting to have to walk back and forth between cabins in the cold, she’d carried the Keurig machine with her this morning. More out of habit than needing additional caffeine, she slipped in a new pod, then placed her mug in the tray and pressed the start button.
“After.”
The implication settled over the room as the Keurig machine began to filter water through the coffee pod. Brook twisted the outer band of her worry ring, mulling over what could have prompted such a change besides Heather’s death.
