Ford
NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE.
At a complete loss, Jax fanned out the contents of his research conducted back when Iesha had been murdered across the dining room table, which has been seldom used in our years of owning the property. Jeremiah and Harris stand with us as we scour the documents, though everything is unfamiliar to us except for Jax.
Clark and William are out with Detective Barrera, having been granted temporary authorisation with the official police database, scouring for any-fucking-thing that may be pertinent to this hitman and his vehicle. They've even persuaded him to assemble their recent findings onto a thumb drive and it was delivered by personal courier only ten minutes ago.
Having been first to scour the contents, it's confirmed that the hitman traversed Hortonville on his way to deliver Jasmine to us. His Ford Expedition's been captured on town-wide CCTV. The fact that Hortonville's only a forty-five-minute drive—if you're careless with your speeding—is disconcerting to say the least. It takes me a moment to remember that Genevieve explained she used to live in Hortonville before relocating to Westville.
"Did you find anything, man?" Harris presses, eager for a small lead to start with.
Jax sighs. "Similarities between all the deaths from injections of potassium chloride, asphyxiation and then dismemberment, and slow acting poison. I read all about it when Iesha was murdered, but it never truly sunk in until Jasmine's death. I thought my déjà vu for their MOs was just from world news or some shit, but it's because of this."
"What's the timeframe?"
"Last twenty years. These are all the deaths just in Westville." Jax pauses. "There's not many with potassium chloride injections. The favourite seems to be stabbing with knives from the victims' homes so there'd be no leads with the weapons."
Jeremiah shakes his head as he sinks into the nearby seat and starts using Jax's laptop to further inspect the thumb drive contents. He assesses them meticulously as Harris and I wander around the table, glimpsing at various summarised case notes. While I can understand his thrill of a new connection, what I fail to surmise is why Jax was so adamant to display all this to us when it holds no new evidence.
"Spill it, Rowland," I instruct, glancing up at Jax.
Genevieve left my company several hours ago, and I'm already missing her like hell. This whole situation is agitating me, and that's why I whipped out my phone not too long ago to arrange another date at Mirage with her for tonight back when Jax was announcing this gathering. The confirmation did little to abate my irritation, but it's certainly something to look forward to tonight.
After what we did last night, I'm the most tempted I've ever been to slowly wane her Bullet dosage until she's completely off the drug. Even if she never wants to speak to me again, I can work at it. Slowly regain her trust again until we can be something. There's no way I'm losing her completely to Bullet's mercy, and she's not going to be anyone else's.
Genevieve is mine. She's always been mine, whether she knew it or not.
"In none of these case reports does it state that any DNA residue remained at scene. It's completely useless to note, but this hitman was experienced before he broadened his services to Westville. But he's started killing here to get back at the Red Alert legacy, don't you see? This hitman's got it out for Red Alert. Whosever payroll he's on is our enemy."
"Great," I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "That just about narrows it down to everyone in this fucking town that's not Red Alert."
Jax is looking at me as though I'm missing the point, which I believe I am. "This hitman was only added to West Point seven years ago by David Abrahams as soon as West Point became mandatory on all devices. Half of these murders could have been ordered by anyone, but the other half? The half that predate his West Point profile? It's possible that only one person sought him out to commit these killings. Someone who's been in contact with him on and off for years. Whoever Jean Sommers is."
