“You mentioned something about helping us, Officer.”
Julian clears his throat and itches nervously at his knees.
“Understand what I’m about to say is off the record. If our conversation goes south, and you use it against me in a court of law, I’ll deny every word.”
“Not exactly extending an olive branch, are you?”
He leans forward and rubs his face as though doing so will clear his head. A lawn mower buzzes down the block. The air is redolent of dead leaves, and when the wind blows, they scratch and crawl along the road.
“We were wrong to accuse Hunter.”
There’s a quiet confidence in his admission that forces Darcy to take notice. She sets the glass down on the arm of the chair, hard enough to make him flinch.
“Then why did you?”
“The DA is pressing the chief for an arrest. Detective Ames is a good man and a solid cop, but he’s got the DA and chief screaming at him in each ear, and multiple callers claimed to see Hunter with the deceased at the time of the attack.”
“Let me guess. The callers remained anonymous.”
Julian’s grimace is tight-lipped, pained.
“They did.”
“When you responded to the letter in Hunter’s locker, you blew it off as typical teen stuff. Had you taken the threat seriously, Aaron wouldn’t have attacked Hunter. Now the kid is free on bail. Neither you nor Ames strike me as thorough investigators.”
“You don’t make apologies easy, Ms. Gellar.”
“You owe my family far more than an apology.”
“Yes, I do. Not that it justifies my error, but the coach and principal both backed Mr. Torres. Hunter’s outbursts convinced them he is capable of hurting others, and four students came forward about his argument with Becca Crowley.”
Darcy swirls the tea, her grip tightening around the glass.
“That doesn’t make him a serial killer. It’s pathetic how quick Genoa Cove is to implicate my son. I guess when you don’t fit in or come from money, this village chews you up and spits you out.”
“Here’s the deal. I’m convinced Torres made the anonymous phone calls. Ames sent the recordings to a speech recognition specialist. If he matches the voice to Torres, we’ll bring charges.”
“Did it ever occur to you Aaron might be the killer? He fits the profile—violent outbursts, superiority complex. And he has motive. He doesn’t want my son near his sister, and Hunter is a convenient fall guy to cover up Aaron’s crimes.”
Julian shakes his head and leans back.
“Aaron Torres deserves jail time and needs psychological evaluation, but he’s not our killer.”
“I saw him drive past our house, and you have video evidence of Aaron and his thugs vandalizing our car. The cove is a five-minute walk from here. He knows the area well.”
“While I can’t account for his whereabouts when Amy Yang was murdered, Torres has alibis for the other two killings.” Julian spots the angry reply forming on Darcy’s lips and raises his hand. “The alibi didn’t come from his friends. Coach Parker claims he was with Aaron on the night of the first murder, and while Coach Parker is a lot of things, he wouldn’t risk lying over a matter this serious.”
“And his second alibi?”
“Aaron’s parents say he was home all evening working on a paper for school.”
“Sounds like an open and shut case.”
“More sarcasm, Ms. Gellar?” Julian’s eyes drift to the grinning signature on the wall. “The killer targeted you. While Aaron Torres has a problem with your son, there’s no motive for him to make it personal with you. The messages they painted on your car were meant for Hunter. You had it right from the beginning. It’s a copycat killer, and he’s working with Michael Rivers. Your son is innocent.”
An invisible weight slides off Darcy’s chest. Finally, the GCPD listens to reason.
“And Ames is on the same page?”
“He is.”
“How do you plan to catch this killer?”
Julian squints his eyes and scans the tall grass swaying beyond the property line. He’s thought this through.
“The killer is local to Genoa Cove. He murdered three girls, stalked Amy Yang, and sabotaged your home. He might not be from here originally, but he lives close by. The attacks are personal, and that leads me to believe he followed you from Virginia.”
Darcy frowns.
“If this was my case, I’d look at new renters, someone who showed up in the last four months. I’m the only person tying him to the village. He’ll leave after I’m dead.”
“I agree we should focus on renters. I’ll call work and have them start a search for new apartment leases.”
“Not apartments. Houses. Michael Rivers preferred privacy, a quiet location he could bring his victims without attracting attention.”
“Like a place in the country.”
“Or on the edge of the village.”
Julian pulls his phone from his pocket and dials.
“Hey, Faust. Search house leases in Genoa Cove and Smith Town…that’s right…and pay close attention to renters who signed contracts during the last four months.” He puts the phone to his chest and leans toward Darcy. “Males in their twenties and thirties?”
“Definitely. Look for someone with a background in technology or electricity. He knew enough to beat my security system and mess with the power supply.”
“You hear that, Faust? Okay, and if nobody matches the profile, expand the radius to the entire county…right…I’ll get back to you after I leave Ms. Gellar’s.”
Darcy studies Julian. He’s working on his own time and taking a personal interest in her case. His face is boyish and kind, but she’s learned not to let looks deceive her. And too many things don’t add up. Julian has seemed outright hostile to her since the first day he appeared at her door. Trust must be earned.
“I don’t get you, Officer.”
“What is it you don’t understand?”
“We’ve been at a crossroads since that day at the dojo. The looks you gave me each time you investigated the house…I have a hard time accepting you want to help me now.”
Julian peeks over his shoulder as if he fears someone is listening. He shifts the Adirondack chair and faces Darcy.
“It had nothing to do with self-defense class. To be honest, you impressed me. But later I passed judgment on you without doing my homework. But I want you to know my issue wasn’t with you.”
“If you tell me your issue was with my son, that won’t make me trust you.”
“No, it wasn’t Hunter.”
Bronson. If half of what the department accused him of is true, she can understand why Julian held Darcy’s character in suspicion.
“Why take part in Bronson’s class if you think so little of the man?”
“His is the only women’s self-defense class in the village. I did it to help all of you, not because of Bronson. Plus, I want to keep an eye on him. He may have retired from the GCPD, but the man still earns good money.”
“He had ample opportunity to plant that box and disrupt my security system.”
“Believe me, Bronson Severson is a person of interest in Genoa Cove.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sunset is bloody and chilling, the day’s warmth vanishing when the final rays dip below the land. Darcy watches through the window as darkness pools and spreads between the houses and below the trees.
The Virginia Cavaliers sweatshirt conceals the gun on her hip as she parts the curtains. No sign of Bronson or Aaron Torres, but her instinct tells her trouble waits in the dark.
“Mom?”
Jennifer peeks her head out of her bedroom. Darcy drags the curtains shut.