Silence spread through the room, heavy and charged.
“Should we cancel?” Mariella asked.
Duke didn’t hesitate to jump in with his answer. “No.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“If we cancel, we give him exactly what he wants,” Duke said. “Control. Proof he can rattle us.”
He glanced around the room—at Andi, at the team, at Rupert clutching the folder like it might bite him.
“He didn’t sabotage the event,” Duke continued. “He altered our personal schedules just enough to show us he could. To send us a message that we’re not untouchable.”
“So what do we do now?” Matthew pushed his glasses higher on his nose.
“We don’t stop,” Duke said. “We tighten up. We stay visible. We don’t let him decide where we go or what we do.”
Andi met his gaze, admiration glimmering in her eyes, and she nodded. “We fix the files. Reprint. Lock down access. And we move forward.”
Everyone around them agreed.
As the room erupted into motion again, Duke scanned the exits, the corners, the spaces people never looked at twice.
The killer was testing boundaries.
And Duke knew one thing with absolute certainty: If they weren’t present—fully, visibly present—this would only escalate.
Whatever game this was, it had entered a new phase.
And Duke intended to stay one step ahead of this guy.
The applause rolled through the auditorium in waves—loud, sustained, energized.
Andi couldn’t help but think that the crowd was bigger than the ticket count Rupert had shown them that morning, bodies packed into every row, people standing along the back wall and aisles.
She knew Mariella had several friends from LA who were at the event. Many of them were influencers who’d helped promote the event online. Mariella had said she was excited to see them all again.
Andi stepped into the wash of stage lights, momentarily blinded. Heat bloomed across her skin as the brightness swallowed the audience, reducing them to a shifting mass of shadow beyond the footlights.
She forced a smile anyway.
They took their seats. The moderator launched into introductions—names, accolades, tour highlights—and the applause surged again. Andi let the rhythm of it steady her pulse.
Then the questions started.
At first, they were normal. Enthusiastic. Thoughtful. Fans asking about the cold case in LA they were covering. Asking about favorite investigations, techniques they’d used to find information, moments that had stuck with them.
But then the edge crept in.
A question about responsibility.
A question about influence.
A question about whether true crime ever created harm instead of exposing it.
Andi felt the subtle shift in the room.
The moderator hesitated before reading the next card. “The next question came from the audience. Someone in the back. We’ve got a microphone set up for him. Go ahead.”
