Stolen Daughters (Detective Amanda Steele)

“I need a media ban put in place.”

“Am I missing something here?” He took another quick swig.

She’d thought about how she was going to present her case, and now face-to-face with him, her mind was blank. She didn’t see Malone warming to the idea of a serial killer without some convincing.

“Amanda,” he prompted.

“I’m not exactly sure what we’re dealing with here.” Safe, neutral ground. It would be far better if Malone came out with “serial killer” before she did.

“Regarding?”

“The person who killed Ashley Lynch and Shannon Fox.”

“You sound confident they’re the same person now.”

She nodded. “There’s no one in Fox’s life who fits. She had her ex, who is a piece of work, but he’s not her killer. I’m confident in saying that Fox was taken out because of her call to nine-one-one. And if that’s the case, it points to Lynch’s killer.” Her phone pinged with a message. Trent, finally?

“I’m still listening. Go on.”

“The fire, the mutilation—both point to a killer who wants glory. He has something to say.” She took out her phone and went to her messages as she spoke. It was Trent with bad news. She continued talking to Malone. “If we let the media continue to publish stories about these murders, we’re giving the killer exactly what he wants. I don’t agree with allowing that to happen.” As she heard the words come back to her ears, she thought again of her mother. It was so strange that her mother was now technically a killer—though, in Amanda’s eyes, her mother was nothing like the man they were after.

“Okay,” Malone dragged out and set his beer on a side table. “But if we fail to give him what he wants, won’t it make him more likely to kill again?” His eyes pierced through hers.

“I think he’s planning that anyway.”

“Oh, Amanda, I don’t know. A serial killer? Doesn’t there need to be more bodies to qualify?”

And there, he had said it. “I’m trying to prevent more victims. I don’t even want to think there are others we don’t yet know about.”

“I can’t request a media ban without more to go on. And the public has a right to know what’s going on.”

“Now you sound like Fraser Reyes.” She crossed her arms and looked away.

“Fraser Reyes,” Malone picked up. “Isn’t that the journalist that almost had you throwing away your career?”

“In all fairness, that was more on Hill.”

“Hmm. Whatever the case, this isn’t what you need right now. Stay away from him.”

She bit her bottom lip.

“Oh no. You spoke with him. You said I sound just like him. Tell me you didn’t…”

“I did, but—”

“No buts, Amanda. I don’t think it’s really sunk in for you, so let me put it bluntly in words you’ll understand: Hill is gunning for your badge.”

His warning sank in her chest and made her heart bump off rhythm, but she couldn’t back down simply because she was afraid of the LT. She had to think of the bigger picture—the possibility that the killer would strike again. “If we let the news run with whatever they want, we’re essentially letting the killer call the shots.”

“And is that a bad thing if it keeps him from killing people?”

“We don’t know that it will,” she shot back. “It might whet his appetite to murder again.”

Silence played out between them while they were entertained by the antics of a black squirrel juking this way and that as he ran through the yard.

“There’s more you don’t know,” she began. Paused. The note flashed to mind, but she didn’t want to tell him about it right now. She intended to stay focused on petitioning for a media ban. “Reyes just published an article on Fox’s murder, and people on Bill Drive were already afraid to talk to us. We need that article taken down, for starters.”

“What do you mean they’re afraid?”