May nodded. Going back to Fairshore would help them work faster now. And at least they had a starting point and a picture of the man they were seeking. They had guidelines on the job he did, and also May’s strong feeling that he was an integral part of this community, someone who was trusted, a go-to figure.
With that, May felt they had an edge. They had a chance. If they were fast, they might catch up.
She looked at the list, where Owen was matching up the names of individuals to their roles and professions in the town, using local databases, and working at a focused speed.
Here were the lists. Paramedics, doctors, funeral directors, coroners. People with death-adjacent professions. One of them had cracked and broken.
Somewhere here was the killer. The first question was: which one out of all those on the list was he?
But May feared that this man, who’d recently snapped and was now on a killing spree, was already out again, targeting his next victim. So the second, far more urgent question was: if they found out who he was, could they catch up with him in time?
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
May headed out of the hospital and climbed into her car with Owen, feeling determined. With this information from Kerry, she felt as if they were closing in on the killer, even though there was a lot of work still to be done.
It almost felt to May as if she could see him now, sense his shadowy presence. In a spooky way, she felt as if she'd caught sight of a silhouette that had proved he was real, and that when he turned around, when she could shine a light on him, she would finally see his face.
"We can do this," she said to Owen.
"We can," he agreed firmly.
But as May sped along the streets, heading for the Fairshore police department, she felt a flicker of doubt and fear.
She knew she could do it. That she felt sure about. But could she do it in time?
May felt her heart pounding with an urgent sense of purpose as she got to the Fairshore main road and headed down it toward the police department.
It was his killing interval that was giving her the creeps every time she thought about it. He was connecting with his victims fast. He surely must have a list, or a source of victims he was working from, and he was burning through it at speed.
May’s sense of urgency was growing with every moment that passed. She'd allowed herself to trust her instincts. They were screaming at her that if she didn't catch up with him fast, then he'd be able to kill again.
She had the feeling he was losing control with the killings. As if it was now a compulsion that was too strong for him to stop.Plus, May had an uneasy feeling that when this man had exhausted the list of survivors, of people he perceived to havecheated death, he would not stop killing but instead, widen the parameters. Perhaps he'd target their families, or he'd look for people who had only had a brush with danger and not with death at all.
In his deluded mind, May feared he would do whatever it took to justify his slaughtering spree.
Here they were. They had reached the Fairshore police department. May parked outside and jumped out of the car. Then, she and Owen hurried inside.
"May, Owen," the deputy at the front desk greeted them. He looked anxious, and he was holding one phone with another ringing on the desk. May guessed he'd been on a nonstop series of calls, handling inquiries from worried citizens who had heard about the killings and were now in a state of panic.
"Is there any news?" he asked. "I must have had thirty calls already, and I've only been on duty for an hour. People are panicking, and the media is on its way here. I’ve already spoken to a few local websites, and a TV station who’s sending a crew. One of the journalists said he's going to wait on the police department's doorstep until there's some information on the killer."
This didn't make things easier for May. Much as she sympathized with the anxiety that the county’s citizens felt, the truth was that there was no time for a media briefing. And there also wasn't enough information to give out. They couldn't show their hand or tell the journalists what they knew. If they did, there was a strong risk that the killer would hear about it and disappear. Go into hiding, flee town, vanish forever — or for long enough that the case went cold. Who knew what he would be capable of when he realized the police were on his trail?
May had no doubt that he would be smart enough to avoid capture.
"I know this is difficult, but we have to delay speaking to the media," May said. "We can’t share what we know, as yet. And we need to focus all our time on finding him."
"Does that mean you're close?" She could see hope in the man's eyes and felt again the weight of responsibility that rested on her shoulders — to help this shaken community find the monster in their midst.
"We are close to him," May said. "We can issue a statement to explain we are making progress but that due to the confidential nature of the case, we can't say more until an arrest is made."
The officer nodded, and May could see he knew what that meant.
"Okay. That's what I'll tell them. And, off the record, how close are we?" he asked. "I have an aunt who owns a farm in that area. I'm worried for her and her kids."
Knowing this would stay confidential, May updated him more fully.
"We have a general but promising lead on who he is," May told him. "We've profiled him. He works in a death-adjacent industry and he is hunting down people that he perceived to have outstayed their time on earth. People who have survived near death experiences such as serious illness or accidents."