I scratch at the scruff on my face when my phone rings.
“Donovan,” I bark into the speaker.
“Sheriff. It’s Rossi. I got something for you.”
I perk up in my chair. “What is it?”
“A red car ran a red light here in town last night. You told me to call about any red cars, so I’m calling. Plate is registered to a Brian Graves.”
“Thanks, Rossi.”
“Anytime. Hey, I hear one of your victims survived?”
“She did. She’s awake, and we spoke with her yesterday.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. This is great news for you, Donovan. Could she tell you much?”
I think about the car being in Bearview, and it makes me wonder if that’s where our guy is from. “Have you ever heard the name Hadley? Other than the river?” I clarify.
The line is silent for a moment before I hear some things being shuffled around.
“You still there, Sheriff?”
“I’m here.”
“I think I might have just solved your case for you. I’m going to send you a link. I didn’t think anything of the last name Graves until you mentioned the name Hadley. My sister-in-law lives out in a small town on the Alberta border. About a thirteen hour drive from here. There was a case there about ten years ago. A family murdered. If I’m remembering correctly, one of the victims’ names was Hadley. I remember because my wife and I were visiting for the birth of my niece and it was all the town was talking about. I believe the suspect’s name was Graves.”
“You’re shitten me,” I say in shock. Is this really it? Did we just solve this? “The suspect. He’s not in jail?”
“Nope. Was never captured.”
“You’re sure?”
“Lana is contacting her sister right now. I’ll get you everything you need to know.”
“Thanks, Rossi. I fucking owe you one.”
“You bet your ass you do.” He chuckles. “Listen, I gotta go, but keep me updated, you got it?”
“Absolutely. Thanks, man.”
I end the call and lean back in my chair, completely stunned, waiting for the link to come through. If this guy is from Alberta, what the hell is he doing here in Lavender Falls?
My email pings, and I click on the link as fast as I can. A bunch of news articles pop up, and I click on the first one. Ten years ago, in a small town on the border, a family of four was murdered. Three of the members were DOA and the fourth wasa teenage girl named Hadley, who later succumbed to injuries in the hospital a few days later. I continue to scroll and read. According to this article, Hadley, came back from a date and found her family murdered by an ex-boyfriend, Adam Graves. He was still in the house when she arrived and attacked her as well. The date, apparently noticing she left something behind in his car, turned back around, and when he arrived back at the house there were bloody footprints running into the forest and the door was left open. He ran inside, where he found his date bleeding and unconscious.
I click on a second link, this one to a photo of a young man named Adam Graves. His hair is dark and long, and if I had to imagine him ten years older, I’d say this could definitely be the guy Natalie described. When I scroll a little bit farther, the air in my lungs freeze.
Staring back at me is a photo of a teenage girl. The name under the photo says this is Hadley Hollis, but fuck me, if she isn’t a dead ringer for Jade. Just ten years younger. And blonde.
My hands shake, knuckles white and chest tight.
I click on a third link, scanning for the cause of death, and there, my mind fucking whirls. The family was stabbed. A mom, dad, and brother.
Her scars.
My lungs refuse to work, and the air in the office closes in around me.
I reach for the garbage bin under my desk and hurl inside. Her reaction to the name Hadley last night makes sense.
