Nikko furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
I swallowed hard and turned to Lachlan. “Yesterday evening, my brother called. Told me about another gift. Another piece of jewelry delivered to one of my bakeries. If this theory is correct, the necklace I received could belong to the July tenth victim, who also happened to be a social media influencer.”
“Claire…,” he exhaled on a quiver, squeezing his eyes shut. “I never even thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“Claire was an influencer,” Ethan offered. “Or at least her alter ego was.”
I grabbed my phone and opened my photos. When this all began, something compelled me to keep a record of each piece of jewelry I’d received. Maybe because I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t know what.
And with each gift, I grew more and more uneasy.
My biggest fear was that Nick had a guy on the inside who sent the gifts to taunt me.
To remind me of the promise he’d made as he was taken away in handcuffs.
To warn me that I’d never be free from him until he drew his final breath.
Or I drew mine.
“Do you…” Lachlan didn’t need to ask his question. I knew what it was.
I simply nodded as I stared into his eyes, not showing him my phone. Not until I knew he was ready.
After several long moments, he held out his hand. I placed my cell into it.
“Does that look familiar?” I asked softly, hopeful, yet also praying he didn’t recognize the necklace.
Tense silence filled the room as Lachlan studied the photo Wes had texted me, the only sound that of the ticking of the clock and a faucet dripping somewhere in the house. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, his expression anguished.
“It was our mum’s,” he choked out, his voice heavy with a combination of heartache and anger. He returned his gaze to mine, eyes glossy from pent-up emotion. “Triple Koru. Represents the Circle of Life. After she passed, Claire wore it all the time. Said it made her feel close to our mum.”
No one said anything, all of us staring at each other, not knowing how to proceed now that we had confirmation Claire’s theory bore merit. It was almost easier when it was only a theory. Now it was real. There was someone out there emulating my ex-husband’s kills. For what purpose? Was he involved?
God, I prayed he wasn’t.
“How about July five years ago?” Lachlan asked after a beat. I tore my gaze to his as he wiped at his eyes. “Do you have a photo of what you received then?” His tone was determined, yet distraught.
I nodded subtly and took the phone back, scrolling through the photo album. When I found one dated July tenth five years ago, I stopped, admiring the gorgeous necklace — a simple, silver chain with a blue, heart-shaped charm made to look like an ocean wave. It was certainly unique, not something you’d find at your local jewelers. Based on the little information Lachlan shared about Piper, I was all but certain this once belonged to her.
I glanced around the room, both Nikko’s and Lachlan’s stare trained on me, hopeful, yet scared at the same time. This had the potential to rip open any old wounds that had healed.
And could also solidify Claire’s theory.
Drawing in a deep breath, I held out my phone so they both could see. Nikko’s grip on the arms of the chair tightened, nostrils flaring, body shaking as he struggled to rein in his anger. I was surprised the chair didn’t shatter under the strength of his grip.
I looked at Lachlan, expecting to see the same rage and resentment. Instead, his head hung in resignation.
“I gave it to her after she won her first big surfing competition,” he explained softly. “Had it specially made from a rock I found out on The Mokes that reminded me of an ocean wave. So that’s what I had it turned into.” He looked up, meeting my gaze, tear trickling down his cheek. “It was the one thing I searched for after that night. The one thing I wanted to hold onto. I thought it was gone forever.”
We all remained silent for several long moments, almost out of respect for Claire, for Piper, for all the women who’d lost their lives too soon.
Finally, Lachlan cleared his throat, angrily swiping at his eyes. “I think this is more than just coincidence now. Don’t you?” He arched a brow in Nikko’s direction.
“I do.” His deep voice trembled as he attempted to come to terms with the truth that the person who took his sister from him was still out there. Still killing innocent women.
“So what do we do? How do we find this bastard?” Lachlan’s question came out hard and rash.
“We don’t do anything.” Nikko gestured between their two bodies. “I know you want to get to the bottom of this…for more than one reason.” He glanced my way before looking back at his friend. “But we’re looking at a potential serial killer who’s crossed dozens of jurisdictional lines to commit his crimes. This is…” He pushed out a breath, shaking his head. “This is far above my pay grade.”
He looked at me. “This FBI contact of yours… Agent Curran… How familiar is he with your ex-husband’s case?”
“He knows it inside and out. His niece was Annabelle Landry, Nick’s first murder victim. Like Wes, he’d been suspicious of Nick long before the truth came out. Saw him for the monster he was. Before he got involved, the police had no idea the extent of his crimes. We thought Nick had only been stalking and raping women, which is bad enough. Agent Curran put the pieces together and tied him to the suicides of his victims.”
Nikko looked up after jotting down everything I’d just relayed to him. “Then we start there. We’ve got three months.”
“Three months?” Lachlan gave him a quizzical look.
“Until he strikes again,” Ethan interjected, tossing a folder onto the table, October Thirteenth written in big, bold letters. “Although chances are he’s already on the hunt.”