Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
"Mike mentioned that it was a closed circuit, impenetrable," I answer.
"We might need to call in Wren," Hemlock says.
"I've heard about him," Jericho says, a little awe in his voice. "He's the guy that works for Blackbridge up in St. Louis?"
"That's him," Hemlock confirms. "If there's a way to get into their system so we can at least keep eyes on the house, he'll know how."
I want to argue with the guy. Wren's methods are less than legal, but we aren't talking about a case I'll need to testify for. We're talking about Cora. I can't let anything happen to her, no matter the cost of keeping her safe.
"I say we give it a shot," Hemlock offers.
Knowing I'd gladly go to jail to protect her, I dip my head in agreement, but when Hemlock gets on the phone with Wren, he tells the man everything, including details about the Full Deck Killer's case that I hadn't heard about.
"Put him on speaker," Jericho urges and we all take seats around the conference table with Hemlock's phone right in the middle.
The clack of keys fills the line and we wait.
"Where's the bird," Jericho asks. "I've heard about the bird."
"Puff Daddy is a nuisance," Wren says as he continues to type.
"Your momma!"
"That's the bird," Jericho says with a wide smile. "Funny little shit."
"Who the hell is that?" the bird cracks again. "You're funny, little man. Let me at him."
"Calm down," Wren snaps.
"You calm down. We're at war!" the bird screams, and if I were in a different place in my life, I might be able to smile at the shenanigans, but my face hurts, I'm exhausted, and my life is an absolute fucking wreck.
"Dear lord," is muttered.
"Is that another bird?" Jericho asks, his scarred face lighting up as if he's watching a magic trick for the first time in his life rather than staring down at a phone.
"That's Evie," Wren explains.
"Stay off my girl, asshole," the first bird snaps.
"Did you say the last ten years?" Wren asks, referring to the history of the Full Deck Killer.
"That is known," Hemlock answers.
"It's been longer than that," Wren says. "I found cases with this type of calling card dating as far back as seventeen years. A lot of places didn't have the technology needed to make the information accessible by outside agencies, and it's possible other cases took precedence when it was."
"Seventeen years?" I ask, a little stunned.
"Make that twenty-one," Wren interjects. "That's—"
"Going to make the killer in a much older age bracket than what everyone suspected," Hemlock says. "That means he's—"
"Elliot Hockley of Topeka, Kansas," Wren says.
"No way," Jericho says, his voice full of awe. "How do you know for sure?"
"Impossible," I mutter.
There have been numerous agents and agencies involved in trying to track this guy down, and they've been unsuccessful.
"I ran a search for similarities in behavior. Nothing is a coincidence you know."
"Walk me through it," Hemlock says, and I can tell by the frown on his face that he isn't just going to jump the gun and run off to arrest this guy without more information.
He's like me, not willing to get his hopes up until we know for sure.
"I can see why it would be difficult to track the guy. He travels in different cars. Sometimes he flies, sometimes he takes the train. I have two occurrences where he took a bus, but the purchases and the use of gift cards, all of that shit is digital these days. It's damn near impossible to travel only using cash because a lot of businesses have gone cashless. A real pain in the ass for most criminals. The calling card is what tripped him up. If he would've committed murders and didn't leave a card, he'd be untraceable. Well, not really, but it would've taken a little longer to find him because I'd have to track back and use more facial recognition, and there would be a lot more murders to sift through and eliminate. I think—"
"You're certain?" Hemlock says, and I feel like if he didn't stop Wren, the man could go on for hours.
"One hundred percent," Wren confirms. "I'll email you the information."
"You have my email?" Hemlock says, but then he frowns. "Never mind."
Wren chuckles. "Anything else? If not I have an online argument about Star Wars versus Star Trek to get back to."
"Nothing else. Thanks, man," I tell him right before Hemlock reaches for his phone and ends the call.
"That's scary good," Jericho says.
"I guess we should be glad he's one of the good guys," I mutter.
Hemlock's phone rings again, and he answers, automatically putting it on speaker phone.
"I figured you'd go after the guy," Wren says. "So know that he's currently in Columbia, South Carolina, not in Topeka."
"Fuck," I mutter. "Cora."
Chapter 34
Cora
"I trust your judgment, Cora. I always have."
I turn my head to look at Faye. The sincerity in her words isn't what makes me pause. It's the fact that we're trying to decide between sandwiches or salads for lunch that confuses me because of her tone.