“Then tell me again,” Durante said. “I want to understand why you keep finding dead people.”
Torie scoffed. “Power trip, much?”
“I don’t love anything about this,” Durante said.
“I’m tired of being portrayed as a villain,” Torie said to no one and everyone at once.
Durante looked at the rest of the group. “Unless your name is called out, we’re done for now. Keep your phones on, though.”
Certain names were called, their shoulders sagging. The rest of the people scattered—some slow, some bolting. The island was feeling smaller by the minute.
Harmony looked back at the patio, not understanding what she was feeling.
“Whoever’s doing this knows how to get attention,” she murmured. “They know how to make us look.”
“What does that mean?” Cass asked.
“It means we need to look back.”
Harmony exhaled. The murders weren’t random. They were escalating. The killer knew the terrain—and the people—too well.
Just as they started to turn away, a faint thump rolled across the sky. It was soft at first, then grew, beating like a second heartbeat over the island.
Cass froze. “What’s that?”
Harmony knew. “Air Rescue 5.”
LA County wasn’t just coming. They were almost here.
And when homicide landed on Catalina, nothing about this story would stay quiet anymore. Even so, though, the night still belonged to the true storyteller. And whoever they were, they didn’t seem to need sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Wolves Arrive
Air Rescue 5 sliced through the gray morning. Its rotor wash churned up loose gravel and strips of eucalyptus bark across the tarmac. People shielded their eyes as the helicopter dipped low, hovered, then landed with a heavy sigh.
Harmony stood beside Cass, arms folded, hair whipped by the downdraft. The island shrank beneath the aircraft’s shadow—like Catalina was holding its breath.
Two figures stepped out first: homicide detectives.
Detective Adrian Vega—tall, angular, with the stillness of a predator who knew when not to move.
Detective Serena Hale—sharp-eyed, dark-haired, expression unreadable and unimpressed.
A criminal analyst followed, carrying equipment cases, with the coroner snapping on gloves before approaching the patio.
Vega and Hale paced the scene with measured steps. Their eyes scanned the body, the shattered sign, the taped-off patio, the tense crowd, the sharp scent of fear lingering in the air.
Harmony tracked Vega’s precise, icy gaze. The chill of his stare raised a shiver at the base of her neck.
He wasn’t here to comfort them.
He was here to unmask someone.
Sergeant Durante stepped forward. “Detectives Vega, Hale. I’m Sergeant Durante. My team has secured the scene, and we’ve done a lot of interviews.”
Vega gave him a curt nod. Hale didn’t say a word.
