Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (38)

We wanted to help those who lived with the same. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew this was some sort of atonement for crimes we weren’t responsible for. But it helped all the same.

Only this one was a little more personal.

Maverick threw a Dorito at Wylder like a throwing star. “I smell like sunshine and wildflowers.”

“If sunshine and wildflowers had BO,” Wylder shot back.

“And ass sweat,” Orion signed.

“All right, already,” Dex cut in as he beamed whatever was on his computer to a projection screen at one end of the table. “Let’s focus. I’m taking Brae and Owen to the diner for dinner in an hour.”

“And Waylon’s probably convincing Skylar that aliens are already among us. If she tells her teacher another abduction story, I’m pretty sure I’m getting a visit from the county,” I muttered.

“Hey, they could be here,” Mav said as he lowered himself into a chair.

I shook my head. “I need to limit her time with you, too.”

“Rude,” he clipped.

“Okay,” Dex cut in again. “Kol, this is your show.”

I opened the file in front of me. Dex might be high-tech, but I needed a pen and paper. I needed to be able to lay things out and move them around like pieces on a chessboard.

Flipping to a list, I looked up, signing as I spoke. “I found two more cases that might be Travis. While his victim profile varied, it’s clear he had a favorite type.”

“Women in their twenties with dark hair,” Wylder supplied.

I nodded. “Exactly.”

Wylder pulled out his phone—his preferred note-taking device. “I want to dig more into that. Who had a similar look in his life? His mother? An ex-girlfriend? A woman his father had an affair with?”

Maverick popped a chip into his mouth, speaking around bites. “He was with Cora forever. Did he even have a girlfriend before her?”

“Nothing serious,” Dex supplied. “Not that I remember.”

I leaned back in my chair. “We might want to talk to Cora—”

“No.” Wylder spoke the single word with finality. “She’s been through enough.”

I studied my older brother for a moment. Wylder never lost his cool. Nothing made him panic. But when something tripped his trigger—usually something having to do with injustice or a wrong being perpetrated against someone he cared about—he went cold. Like now. Wylder’s voice had dropped several degrees, icicles practically dripping from each syllable.

“Wy,” I began.

“No. Not happening. If she tells me something useful, I’ll share. But otherwise, it’s a no-go zone.”

“All right, then,” Dex went on. “Kol, give us the two cases.”

“Amber MacIntosh from Bainbridge Island, Washington. She was backpacking up the Pacific Crest Trail when she failed to check in at her expected point.”

Mav frowned. “What makes you think it’s Travis?”

“Her next checkpoint was Spruce Canyon. And a couple hiking in the opposite direction saw her about six miles south of Starlight Grove,” I informed them.

Orion stood, rolling out a map I knew was his handiwork. Grabbing a pencil, he drew a circle, then signed, “In Travis’s hunting ground.”

It was a relief to see my brother speak, in his way. While he’d gone stonily silent for the majority of his life, he was still an active participant during these meetings. Maybe because the focus wasn’t on him in any way.

“Exactly,” I agree. “Second victim. Kimmy Oliver. A regular at the Well in Clover Creek. Never made it back to her apartment after walking home from the bar.”

“Higher risk vic?” Dex asked.

I nodded. “Been known to abuse drugs. And a heavy drinker.”

“Two very different types,” Wylder surmised.

“But both with dark-brown or black hair. And both within Juniper County, which would give Travis access to their cases and their loved ones,” I argued.

“They go on the list until we prove otherwise,” Dex said. “I’ll dig into their online histories. Mav and Orion, you handle the location profiles. Wy, you’ve got the psych bit.” His gaze flicked to me. “Updates on the official end?”

I grimaced at the memory of my conversation with Sherri. “Pete is now working the case with me.”

Maverick groaned. “That douchebag? Why?”

“Sherri thinks the caseload is too large,” I grumbled.

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” Wylder said, concern flickering over his expression. “But let me guess, you assigned him work you’ve basically already done.”

I grinned. “Gave him the five cases we already cleared.”

Wylder just shook his head. “You said he’s a good investigator.”

“He is. But I don’t trust anyone but us.” And that was the honest truth.

We talked over a few more points, Dex assigning us all various tasks as different things arose, but it wasn’t long before he was shutting his laptop and pushing back his chair. “I gotta go pick up Brae and Owen. Next week, same time.”

Wylder shoved back next. “I gotta get to the bar.”

Orion didn’t say a word as he rose and headed for the door. That magical time when he communicated was over.