Sunday — 8:04pm
The sea of faces before Brook fell silent as she approached the podium. The soles of her boots tapped against the wooden floor, the sound amplified in the sudden hush. She positioned herself behind the microphone, allowing her gaze to sweep across the room in a practiced arc that revealed nothing of her thoughts.
She scanned the faces of the crowd, identifying key players. Brian and Jillian Moore sat rigid in the third row, their hands clasped tightly together as if bracing for impact. Brett Sorsdal was directly in front of them. Theo had positioned himself strategically near them, his stance casual but his attention fixed.
Figg Whitlow and Principal Watkins, on the other hand, occupied seats on the right side of the room. Lindsay and Stephanie had done the same, once they had refreshed their coffees. As for Desmond Brewer, he had claimed a chair in the back row.
Brook adjusted the microphone, mindful not to cause any feedback.
“Good evening. As most of you already know, my name is Brooklyn Sloane. I'm the owner of a consulting firm called S&E Investigations.” Brook’s voice carried clearly through the room. “My team and I were hired to investigate a series of murders by a male subject who the media has dubbed ‘The Photograph Killer’.”
The name hung in the air, and Brook noted the ripple of recognition that passed through the older members of the audience. The younger ones were just morbidly intrigued.
“During my time with the Bureau, we avoided using such monikers,” Brook continued. “They give killers an identity, a brand that can feed their ego and desire for recognition. I'll be using the term ‘unsub’—unknown subject—to refer to this individual.”
The brief silence that descended over the church hall allowed her time to register the faint creaking of chairs, the rustle of clothing as people shifted positions, and the soft whispers that were quickly hushed by others.
“Typically, profiles are provided exclusively to law enforcement as an investigative tool,” Brook explained as she rested her forearms on the podium. “These profiles aren't typically meant for public consumption. But this case is different.”
She met Sheriff Donovan's gaze across the room. He shifted with unease as he began to study the room’s occupants.
“As with most communities, residents of Harrowick believe they know their neighbors,” Brook said, allowing her gaze to drift around the room again. “You know who belongs and who doesn't. You notice patterns, behaviors, and changes. This intimate knowledge makes Harrowick different from larger cities where anonymity is the norm.”
Several heads nodded in agreement, pride momentarily overshadowing concern.
“And that is precisely why I'm sharing this profile with you tonight.” Brook let her words settle, watching as confusion replaced pride on many faces. “Because someone in this town murdered four women. That someone has been hiding in plain sight. Someone you know personally.”
Her statements sent ripples of discomfort through the crowd. A man in the front row leaned forward, his frown deepening. Two women near the back exchanged nervous glances and began having a conversation until Kim shushed them.
Brett Sorsdal's jaw tightened visibly.
“I understand this is difficult to hear,” Brook acknowledged, her voice softening slightly. “The idea that someone you've lived alongside, someone who's part of this community, could be responsible for these crimes challenges everything you believe about your town and your neighbors.”
She stepped slightly to the side of the podium, removing the physical barrier between herself and the audience. In doing so, she also tilted the microphone to capture her words. The gesture was calculated. A show of openness, of vulnerability, that might encourage others to lower their defenses.
“Before I continue, I want to be clear about something. A profile isnotan accusation. It's a tool, a framework based on behavioral analysis and crime scene evidence. It helps narrow the focus of an investigation.” Brook maintained a neutral tone despite the growing tension in the room. “But in this case, it may also help jar memories of details you didn't realize were significant.”
The mayor shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the side table, glancing at his watch. His earlier address about the automobile assembly plant now seemed trivial compared to the weight of what Brook was discussing. Those in attendance had given theirapproval with minimal opposition, but few seemed to remember or care about that victory now.
Brook took another moment to survey the room, allowing the silence to build. Tension stretched like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap. She could sense the collective holding of breath, the desperate hope that her next words would somehow exclude their husbands, brothers, fathers, and friends from suspicion.
The profile she was about to deliver would plant seeds of doubt where certainty once grew. But those seeds might also yield the truth they needed to finally close this case.
“What we've uncovered goes beyond what was initially documented,” Brook continued, her voice cutting through the silence. “You see, a woman by the name of Lila Hartman was the fourth victim. The connection between Lila's murder and Heather Moore's went undetected for one simple reason—the local newspaper in Lila's hometown closed its doors a day after her death. The Polaroid photograph the unsub initially sent was discovered in a box of unopened mail during recent renovations to the building. Without that photograph, law enforcement had no reason to connect her death to the previous victims.”
She paused, allowing this information to settle.
“S&E Investigations began to investigate here in Harrowick because, in cases like this, the answers almost always lie with the first victim.” Brook moved back in front of the podium, resting her hands lightly on the edges. “First victims often have a personal connection to the killer, whereas subsequent victims might be selected based on similarities to the first or a golden opportunity.”
As Brook prepared to give the profile to the audience, she scanned the faces of those with the most at stake. Theo was doing the same, and Sheriff Donovan seemed no longer hesitant regarding her decision.
“Based on our analysis, we believe the unsub is a Caucasian male who was in his mid-to-late twenties at the time of Heather Moore's murder. He would now be in his late thirties.” Brook wasn’t surprised to find that several of those listening began to scan those sitting in other rows. “The unsub is physically capable, with enough strength to overpower his victims, but not so imposing as to immediately appear threatening. He likely has deep roots in this community, perhaps through family ties or long-term residence. He understands local dynamics and customs, which allowed him to plan his first crime with minimal risk of detection.”
The statement caused a ripple of discomfort through the audience.
Brett Sorsdal crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his expression darkening. Figg was shaking his head in response to her speech, while Principal Watkins leaned in to whisper something to him. Desmond, on the other hand, was currently glaring at Lindsay, who had turned completely around to stare at him.
“The unsub is methodical, and he planned each murder with precision. He didn’t act on impulse.” Brook gestured with one hand, emphasizing her point. “The time between selecting a victim and taking action would have been weeks, even months. During this period, he studied their routines, their vulnerabilities, and collected information that allowed him to strike at the perfect moment.”
