Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(78)

And then they looked up at the camera.

Like they knew exactly where it was. And it wasn’t the hood of their sweatshirt covering their head. It was a mask—one of those terrifying burlap masks with black eyes and a mouth, and X’s crossing all of them.

The figure’s head cocked one way and then the other, an animalistic quality to it. And then they lifted a hand and fucking waved.

Brae sucked in a sharp breath as she gripped my hand like a vise.

“They’re fucking taunting her,” Wylder snarled.

“He knew exactly where the camera was,” Roger noted.

I shook my head. I wanted that to be a clue, but I knew better. “There are cameras all the way around this house, and they aren’t exactly hidden. One casing at a distance and they’d know.”

“He’s got a point,” Travis muttered, but the frustration in his voice was clear. “Then we look for other identifiers. Where’d he get that mask? Anything unique about his shoes?”

Wylder shook his head. “Might not even be a he.”

Travis’s face scrunched. “You think that’s a woman?”

“I think we don’t know. The clothes are baggy. They hide any real data of size or shape. We can’t close any possibilities off until we know for sure,” Wylder explained.

I forced myself to keep breathing, to not let all of this send me into a downward spiral I’d never come back from. My fingers tightened around Brae’s shoulder. “I need to make a call.”

Her gaze flicked up to mine. Her face had gone unnaturally pale, and the last thing I wanted to do was leave her. But it was to keep her and Owen safe. That was the only thing that could’ve pulled me from her at that moment.

“I’ll be fine,” she said hoarsely.

Such a goddamned lie. But she was lying to try to make it easier on me.

I forced my fingers to uncurl from her shoulder and release her hand. But it hurt so bad it was like peeling my flesh from my bones. I didn’t look at Brae as I stood. Instead, I looked at Kol. “Send that clip to Anson.”

He jerked his head in a nod.

“Wait just a damn minute,” Roger clipped, squaring his shoulders. “Who the hell is Anson? You can’t bring random people into an ongoing investigation.”

“He’s not random,” I growled. “He was one of the best profilers the BAU has ever seen. And he’s going to give us insight into this bastard. So back the fuck off.”

I didn’t wait for a response. If Roger wanted to turn this into a pissing contest, fine. I’d just go around him.

Stalking outside, I let the back door slam. I could see Mav and Owen in the distance. They ran and whooped and shot off Nerf guns as Yeti tried to snatch the darts out of the air.

I pulled my phone from my pocket as I watched them, hitting Anson’s name in my contacts. It rang four times before he answered, and I heard sawing in the background, meaning he was on a jobsite. “Dex, how the hell are you?”

There was a warmth to his tone that had never been there before. Not until he met his fiancée. Rhodes had turned my broody best friend’s world upside down in the best possible way.

“Need your help.” My voice had gone emotionless. It was the only way I could function at the moment, when memories were battling for supremacy.

The sawing grew fainter in the background of the call. “Talk to me.”

“Got a neighbor here, new to Starlight Grove. Moved up here because her friend went missing a year ago while they were hiking the canyon. She always thought it was foul play. Local law enforcement didn’t agree.”

“And let me guess, they dawdled because of it,” Anson surmised.

“Some resources were extended, some leads investigated, but the sheriff shuffled it off to the cold case files the minute they hit a year out. Now, my neighbor’s getting threats. A call from her friend’s phone with heavy breathing. Just got a bloody necklace that belonged to the friend with a note that read How much do you miss me?”

Anson cursed. “Blood fresh or dry?”

“Dry.”

Anson was quiet for a long moment, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was: The chances of Nova being alive were slim to none. And if she was alive, what had she lived through?

“Send me everything,” Anson clipped. “You need me in person?”

Hell, he was a good friend. Willing to drive a good four and a half hours from Sparrow Falls, Oregon, at the drop of a hat. “Not yet. Just need your brain.”

“You got it. Wylder working the victim profile?” Anson asked. He’d talked with my brother a handful of times as Wylder honed his skills. Two psych nerds going down rabbit holes.

“Yeah, he’s pulling things together.”

“I’ll call him to get his take, too,” Anson said.

“Thanks,” I rasped. It was all I could say.

“How many times you get my ass out of a sling the past couple of years?”

He wasn’t wrong. Anson and his now family had run into more than their fair share of trouble in Sparrow Falls. But they’d made it through. And that gave me hope that Brae would, too.

“You know I’m happy to break into any internet hidey-holes for you.”

Anson chuckled. “Good to have the gray hat on my side.”