Irritation rose at once, sharper because Selena had expected the challenge.
Connor leaned forward. “The writer angle?”
“No. Karen belonged to a couple of writing groups, but Ruth and Linda didn’t. Nothing connected them there.”
Selena kept her voice even. “Then what have you found?”
Kelly picked up the pages she had printed. “I found a connection, but to be sure I had to get some official backing to chase down the lead. Seattle’s cyber squad helped me prepare the preservation requests and the technical affidavit. The Commonwealth’s Attorney took the warrant application to a circuit judge. And I got some interesting info that connects all three victims based on their internet usage.”
Selena turned fully toward her. “You did what?”
“I used contacts I’ve worked with for years to chase a lead. I should have told you before I did it.”
“You didn’t clear that with me.”
“I didn’t think I had to. I was just trying to help.”
“You’re assigned to my office, Kelly.”
“We’re both federal agents working the same homicide series.”
“That doesn’t mean you contact another field office without telling me.”
Connor glanced between them. “What did they get?”
Kelly did not take her attention from Selena immediately. Then she placed the pages on the table and slid them toward Connor.
“The judge approved access to their internet providers and the info they have on the victims’ internet usage. Approval was rushed quickly based on the three linked murders and the common-victim analysis. We compared account and connection records. Turns out, all three victims used the same small regional internet provider.”
Connor scanned the first page. “What does that prove? There can’t be many providers out here.”
“By itself, nothing,” Kelly said. “That’s what I assumed, too. Then I contacted the provider’s legal compliance officer and asked for subscriber-level correlations under the warrant.”
Selena stood and crossed to the table despite herself.
“Speak English, please?” Connor said. “Sometimes it’s like you FBI folks have your own language.”
Kelly pointed to three rows of data. Each contained a customer number, an assigned IP range, and connection records covering the weeks before the murders.
“All three accounts accessed the same online service,” Kelly said. “HearthSpace.”
Connor frowned. “What does HearthSpace do?”
“It’s a privacy-focused platform built around private communities and anonymous posts. Those communities can be focused on any topic. Traffic and stored data are encrypted, but the company can produce limited account content under a court order. People join invitation-only spaces about topics or issues they are interested in, share messages, and use usernames that aren’t tied publicly to their identities.”
“Like a secret message board?” Connor asked.
“Partly. It also supports direct chats and closed groups. The public-facing company information is vague, and most content sits inside closed, encrypted communities. The question is, what community did the victims join, and was it the same one?”
Selena read the access entries.
Kelly drew another page from the stack. "HearthSpace doesn't advertise. New users need an invitation link from an existing member, and its servers are routed through several states. The company markets privacy to support groups, whistleblowers, and people discussing sensitive subjects."
Connor’s expression tightened. “Or people planning crimes.”
“Possibly,” Kelly said. “Encryption protects both, but they still store some records, namely who connects to their servers.”
Selena read the dates again. Karen’s heaviest use came shortly before she moved into the cabin. Ruth had logged in at irregular hours, often late at night. Linda’s access stopped on the evening she disappeared.