Isla forced herself to look past the horror of what she was seeing, to catalogue the details that might matter.The victim was blonde—lighter than Amanda Pierce, darker than Monica Hayes.Mid-thirties, maybe late thirties.Slender build.She was wearing professional clothes—a charcoal blazer over a cream blouse, black slacks, low heels.Business attire.Not yoga clothes like Amanda.Not the casual wear Monica had been found in.
"Do we have an ID?"Isla asked.
Fritz consulted his notebook."Purse was found in her car outside—a blue Toyota Camry parked in the lot around the corner.Sarah Ramsey, thirty-six.According to her driver's license and the business cards in her wallet, she's a CPA.Runs her own accounting practice downtown."
Sarah Ramsey.The name meant nothing to Isla, but that didn't surprise her.The victims had no apparent connection beyond their physical appearance and the yoga studio—and even that connection was tenuous.
"Was she a member at Serenity Yoga?"James asked.
"Checking that now," Fritz said."But her car—that's the interesting part.It's parked on the street, engine still running, driver's door open.Like she got in and was grabbed immediately."
Isla felt ice crystallize in her veins."Grabbed?From her car?"
"That's what it looks like.Her laptop bag is in the passenger seat, her keys are still in the ignition.Harrington noticed it when he came back out after finding the body—said it hadn't been there when he arrived."
"So, the killer brought her here."James's voice was tight."Grabbed her from her car somewhere else, drove her to this location."
Isla stood, her knees protesting after crouching in the cold."Either way, he's getting bolder.The first two victims were killed elsewhere and brought to the restaurants after dark.This one—" She gestured toward Sarah Ramsey's still body."He grabbed her in broad daylight.Brought her here while there was still enough light to be seen."
"Harrington said the man he saw was leaving around six," Fritz confirmed."Sunset was at 5:47 today.There would have been some twilight left, but not much."
"He's accelerating."Isla stepped out of the freezer, needing space to think, to process what this escalation meant."That's not normal.That's someone under pressure, someone working toward a deadline."
"Valentine's Day," James said quietly.
"Valentine's Day," Isla agreed."Tomorrow.All of this—" She gestured toward the freezer, toward Sarah Ramsey waiting inside."All of this is building toward something.Some moment that matters to him.Maybe it has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day, but I can’t help but feel like the timing matters.”
Henley emerged from the freezer, stripping off her gloves."I'll do the autopsy first thing in the morning, but I can tell you right now—this is the same killer.Same strangulation technique, same positioning.He's not deviating from his pattern."
"Except in timing," Isla said."The first victim was probably dead for days before we found her.This one—he killed her and left her within hours.Why?"
No one had an answer.The question hung in the cold air of the ruined kitchen, unanswered and perhaps unanswerable.
"I need to talk to Harrington," Isla said finally."Get whatever description he can give us.And Fritz—I want every piece of security footage within a six-block radius.Traffic cameras, business cameras, anything that might have caught this guy leaving the scene."
"Already on it."
Isla followed Fritz back outside, grateful for the relative warmth of the February night after the freezer's cold.Paul Harrington sat in the back of Fritz's sedan, a blanket draped around his shoulders despite the car's heater running full blast.He was in his fifties, Isla guessed—a heavy-set man with thinning hair and the particular pallor of someone who'd just seen something they'd never forget.
She slid into the seat beside him, keeping her movements slow and unthreatening."Mr.Harrington?I'm Special Agent Rivers.I know you've already talked to Detective Fritz, but I need to ask you some questions about the man you saw."
Harrington nodded, his hands clutching the blanket."I didn't—I didn't know.If I'd known someone was hurt in there, I would have—" His voice cracked."I would have done something."
"You couldn't have known," Isla said, her voice gentle despite the urgency thrumming through her veins."But right now, you might be the only person who's seen our suspect.I need you to tell me everything you remember about him.Start from the moment you arrived."
Harrington swallowed hard and nodded."I got here around six.Maybe a few minutes before.I came to pick up some insurance paperwork from my office—nothing I couldn't have gotten tomorrow, but I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd save myself a trip."
"And you saw the man when?"
"Right away.He was coming out the back entrance—the service door.I thought maybe it was one of the contractors checking on something, but then I realized we don't have any contractors scheduled right now.Everything's on hold until the insurance comes through."Harrington's breathing was coming faster now, the memory bringing back the fear."So, I called out to him.Asked what he was doing there."
"What did he do?"
"He looked at me for just a second.Then he took off.Not running exactly, but fast.Like he was in a hurry but didn't want to draw attention."
"Can you describe him?Height, build, clothing?"
Harrington closed his eyes, clearly trying to pull the memory into focus."Average height.Five-ten, maybe?Hard to tell from a distance.Average build—not heavy, not thin.He was wearing a dark jacket—black or navy, I couldn't tell in the light.And a baseball cap.Pulled down low so I couldn't see his face."
