The Killing Moon Dan Padavona (world of reading .TXT) 📖

a scowl, she put the mirror away.

“We’ll join them after we give our statements.”

“Oh, no, you won’t,” LeVar said. “Coach is sitting your ass on the bench for the rest of the game.”

“Isn’t that a little dramatic?”

“The doctor just stitched your head shut, and you can’t stand without me supporting you. After we finish, I’m driving you home in your car, and you’re going to sleep.”

Chelsey started to argue and decided against it. LeVar and Aguilar glared like stern parents. She brushed the hair from her eyes and sat back in the chair.

“Okay, Deputy. What do you want to know?”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

October 31st

9:00 p.m.

The geolocation tags painted an unsettling picture. Krueger31 lived in Barton Falls with Valerie Leonard. He wasn’t some nameless, faceless creep stalking a stranger on the internet. He was a neighbor, possibly a friend. Someone she passed on the street every day.

Scout’s pulse raced. She sipped from a glass of water, but her mouth remained desert dry. Time grew short for Valerie. If Scout didn’t identify Krueger31, he’d claim Valerie as his next victim.

Behind Scout, Naomi sat at the card table and read a book about lighthouses. Serena’s eyes grew heavy as she curled on the couch with a throw pillow tucked beneath her head. Even Jack couldn’t keep his eyes open. The dog lay beneath the table, sawing logs, his doggy legs kicking out as he chased a rabbit in his dreams. Until an hour ago, Serena and Naomi had worked as hard as Scout, throwing out suggestions as she searched for clues. Scout knew they’d lose interest. When sleuthing, Scout rarely unraveled a mystery in one afternoon. It took time and perseverance, reversing direction when she reached a dead end, charting courses through alien territories.

Krueger31 possessed intelligence. Like Valerie, he never posted revealing information. No clues which gave away his age or where he lived. He played the role of a cipher, the infamous serial killer trope from the seventies and eighties. A man who murdered without motivation.

Except a secret motivation ruled his actions. She felt sure of it.

“Serena, why don’t you sleep at my place,” Mom said, placing a hand on Serena’s leg.

Serena gasped and lifted her head.

“Sorry. I drifted off.”

“Take my keys. I’ll text you when Scout catches the bad guy.” Naomi narrowed her eyes at Scout. “And she’d better catch the bad guy before ten o’clock, because it’s almost past her bedtime.”

“Come on, Mom. I’m not nine anymore.”

Serena climbed off the couch and stretched her arms with a yawn.

“Appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll drive home.”

Naomi rose from the chair.

“You sure? We have an extra bed.”

Serena patted Scout’s shoulder.

“As much as I want to see the conclusion, I hear my bed calling. Besides, my daughter will be home soon. I don’t want to worry her.”

“Please let me know when you arrive home.”

Jack followed as Naomi walked Serena to the door. While Naomi cleaned up at the counter, Scout rubbed her eyes. The long day had worn her down. Though she’d tracked Valerie Leonard, she felt no closer to protecting the local internet celebrity. The girl would remain in danger until Scout caught Krueger31.

The concern was evident on her mother’s face when she returned to the room.

“Call it a night. You can pick up the hunt tomorrow morning.”

Scout twisted her hair around her finger.

“Mom, can I talk to you?”

“Of course. I’m always here for you.”

Shutting down the monitor, Scout wheeled herself around to face her mother. Wind whistled against the house and rattled the door, causing Jack to lift his head and growl.

“Earlier today, before you came home, Dad knocked on our door.”

Naomi blinked.

“Your father was here?”

“At our house, yes.”

“What did he want?”

Scout exhaled.

“I called to him, but I doubt he heard me over the wind. I tried to catch up, but he drove off before I reached the driveway.”

Naomi glanced away.

“He should have told us he’d planned to stop by. Regardless, your father knows I work weekdays and you’re in school. Why would he visit on a weekday?”

“That’s what I wondered. Should we call him?”

Naomi crossed one leg over the other and clasped her hands over her knee.

“Let me contact him first. Something is up with your father.”

A hopeful butterfly winged through Scout’s chest.

“Do you think he wants to join the family again?”

Naomi bit her lip.

“I’ll speak to him. Why don’t you shut the computer down and go back to the house? Jack can hang out with us until Thomas returns.”

Scout pushed the mouse back and forth.

“I guess so.”

“You did an outstanding job today, hon. Because of you, the sheriff’s department linked Valerie Leonard to the Violet Lyon podcast.”

“What good did that do?”

“Someone murdered her friend, so your discovery is a big deal.”

“Until I find the killer, Thomas can’t protect her.”

Naomi held Scout’s hand.

“Thomas Shepherd is a smart man. Let his department find the killer. Don’t place the responsibility on your shoulders.”

“You’re probably right. It’s just that—”

Scout’s brow narrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“The killer. He lives in Barton Falls with Valerie, right? The creep might even be a friend.”

“That’s a frightening thought. Have you checked Valerie Leonard’s social media accounts?”

“She doesn’t have a social media account. Which is weird. Anyone who spends as much time on internet forums as Valerie should have a Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter account.” Scout drummed her fingers on the desk. “Usually, when a girl who’s active on the internet shuts down her social media accounts, she’s avoiding someone.”

“Like an overbearing guy.”

“Could be.”

Scout flicked the monitor on and chose an application from the Windows menu.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Facial recognition software. Remember last spring when I taught Thomas how to find similar images on the internet?”

“That’s how you traced Jeremy Hyde’s accounts.”

“I can use the same technology to catalog every picture of Valerie Leonard in the Barton Falls yearbook. Watch this.”

Scout called up Valerie’s yearbook photograph and drew a box around the girl’s face. Next, she dragged the cropped image into the application and searched for similar images in the yearbook. Dozens of photographs filled the screen.

Naomi slid