finding the shooter before he hurt someone else.
Mason had called during her drive and told her the shooter had been positively identified. He and Ray were on their way to update the Washington County sheriff and then would be paying a visit to the young man’s family.
Twenty years old.
Why?
She chewed on the edge of her paper coffee cup. What drives a twenty-year-old to murder strangers? Dark eyes behind a mask flashed in her mind. He’d stared right at her and decided not to shoot.
Why?
On the wall across the room Ava recognized the layout of the Rivertown Mall. Labeled pins tracked the shooter’s path. She couldn’t read any of the notations, but she could see the colors and markings. She had a good idea what the three large red Xs stood for. She scanned the room for Sergeant Shaver. He’d promised to be right back five minutes ago. She stood and went across the room to study the map.
A small rectangle was labeled SUNGLASSES KIOSK and directly next to it was a blue X and a green X. The green one was labeled with her name and a line that traced to a mini-bio and her picture. She looked exhausted in the photo. She faintly remembered the sergeant’s snapping it at some point yesterday. Misty Helm was the blue X. Her photo had been taken as she lay on a stretcher. Ava touched Misty’s picture, wanting to wipe the blood from her cheek. A small dotted line led from where Misty had been shot to their waiting place by the kiosk. Not far from the kiosk was a larger red X next to a wall. A line led to a description.
Ava wiped at the sweat that abruptly formed on her upper lip and noticed that her hand felt like ice. Her vision tunneled slightly.
Uh-oh. She recognized the symptoms of her blood pressure dropping. Sit. Before you end up on the floor.
She grabbed a chair and sat. That was better. She bent over and rested her head between her knees, sucking in deep breaths.
Anthony Sweet. She hadn’t known the name of the third victim until this moment. His photo was of his crumpled body against the wall. The man who’d left the safety of his store to try to help her and Misty.
Does he have a family?
She didn’t want to know. Her vision cleared and she sat up, but she couldn’t look back at the map. Frustration shot through her. The person who’d caused the deaths and pain was gone, but how many people would suffer for years because of what he’d done? A need to fight back and strike out overwhelmed her, making her hands shake. Something raw deep inside her longed to make the killer hurt.
But he’s already dead.
She ached to bring him to justice; she could taste the need to do so, but knew it would never be satisfied.
What can I do?
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ava,” Sergeant Shaver said. “Things keep popping up around here. I guess that’s good—it means we’re getting closer to answers. I found this guy sticking his nose in things, too.” He pointed at Zander Wells with a thumb.
“Hey, Ava.” She felt the agent take a hard look at her, and she fought the urge to run a hand over her ponytail. Do I look like someone who nearly fainted a minute ago?
“I heard you have a positive identification,” she said, tossing out a small bone to take the focus off her.
Shaver’s mustache twitched, and Zander lifted a brow.
“Mason didn’t tell me the name,” she clarified. “But he said it’s solid.”
“It is. But I asked you to come in to look over some videotape with me.” Shaver neatly changed the subject without revealing the name. “I had our techs patch together some different clips that I’d like your opinion on.” He waved for her to follow him to a bank of computer monitors. She sat as he logged in and opened a file. Zander stood behind them, his arms crossed on his chest. Ava tensed as the monitor showed a color recording of her and Misty walking down an aisle of the mall. The angle of the video was steep—probably shot from a rooftop camera. The two of them walked past the
Mason had called during her drive and told her the shooter had been positively identified. He and Ray were on their way to update the Washington County sheriff and then would be paying a visit to the young man’s family.
Twenty years old.
Why?
She chewed on the edge of her paper coffee cup. What drives a twenty-year-old to murder strangers? Dark eyes behind a mask flashed in her mind. He’d stared right at her and decided not to shoot.
Why?
On the wall across the room Ava recognized the layout of the Rivertown Mall. Labeled pins tracked the shooter’s path. She couldn’t read any of the notations, but she could see the colors and markings. She had a good idea what the three large red Xs stood for. She scanned the room for Sergeant Shaver. He’d promised to be right back five minutes ago. She stood and went across the room to study the map.
A small rectangle was labeled SUNGLASSES KIOSK and directly next to it was a blue X and a green X. The green one was labeled with her name and a line that traced to a mini-bio and her picture. She looked exhausted in the photo. She faintly remembered the sergeant’s snapping it at some point yesterday. Misty Helm was the blue X. Her photo had been taken as she lay on a stretcher. Ava touched Misty’s picture, wanting to wipe the blood from her cheek. A small dotted line led from where Misty had been shot to their waiting place by the kiosk. Not far from the kiosk was a larger red X next to a wall. A line led to a description.
Ava wiped at the sweat that abruptly formed on her upper lip and noticed that her hand felt like ice. Her vision tunneled slightly.
Uh-oh. She recognized the symptoms of her blood pressure dropping. Sit. Before you end up on the floor.
She grabbed a chair and sat. That was better. She bent over and rested her head between her knees, sucking in deep breaths.
Anthony Sweet. She hadn’t known the name of the third victim until this moment. His photo was of his crumpled body against the wall. The man who’d left the safety of his store to try to help her and Misty.
Does he have a family?
She didn’t want to know. Her vision cleared and she sat up, but she couldn’t look back at the map. Frustration shot through her. The person who’d caused the deaths and pain was gone, but how many people would suffer for years because of what he’d done? A need to fight back and strike out overwhelmed her, making her hands shake. Something raw deep inside her longed to make the killer hurt.
But he’s already dead.
She ached to bring him to justice; she could taste the need to do so, but knew it would never be satisfied.
What can I do?
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ava,” Sergeant Shaver said. “Things keep popping up around here. I guess that’s good—it means we’re getting closer to answers. I found this guy sticking his nose in things, too.” He pointed at Zander Wells with a thumb.
“Hey, Ava.” She felt the agent take a hard look at her, and she fought the urge to run a hand over her ponytail. Do I look like someone who nearly fainted a minute ago?
“I heard you have a positive identification,” she said, tossing out a small bone to take the focus off her.
Shaver’s mustache twitched, and Zander lifted a brow.
“Mason didn’t tell me the name,” she clarified. “But he said it’s solid.”
“It is. But I asked you to come in to look over some videotape with me.” Shaver neatly changed the subject without revealing the name. “I had our techs patch together some different clips that I’d like your opinion on.” He waved for her to follow him to a bank of computer monitors. She sat as he logged in and opened a file. Zander stood behind them, his arms crossed on his chest. Ava tensed as the monitor showed a color recording of her and Misty walking down an aisle of the mall. The angle of the video was steep—probably shot from a rooftop camera. The two of them walked past the
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