Without answering, Aidan pushed to his feet and hurried to grab the kit. Shaun ran past him to speak to Jordan.
By the time Aidan returned and set the kit on the ground next to Fallon, the rain had begun, and Shaun arrived with a blanket. They worked together to keep Fallon and the evidence dry as the rain broke from the sky.
Despite the humid heat, the rain water was cold against Aidan's skin.
After Fallon finished casting the print and collecting the blood sample, they hurried inside from the rain.
“I think that's all we'll be able to get,” Fallon said. “I'll take it to the lab and let you know what we find.”
Aidan thanked her as she left. Turning back to Jordan, he ran his hands through his soaked hair. “Jordan, did you hear anything? See anything out of the ordinary?”
Jordan shook his head.
“I don’t get it. Duke’s always barking. But he was so quiet.” He sat in his chair. “Do you think he killed my dog when I wasn’t home?”
“When did you get home?” Shaun asked.
“Around eight thirty.”
Aidan shook his head and pointed to Jordan’s blood-stained shirt. “The blood was fresh.”
“I’ve had Duke for almost eleven years,” he whispered. “He was my dad’s dog. He died of cancer three years ago. Duke was all I had left of him.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Aidan replied. He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced out the window at the rain, then back at Jordan. “Do you mind if we check the rest of your house? Make sure nothing is disturbed?”
Jordan shrugged, so Shaun and Aidan took different rooms to look around.
A few minutes went by and they regrouped back to the living room, neither of them finding anything.
“Try to get some sleep, okay?” Aidan said. “We'll do everything we can. The casting may narrow down a lot of suspects.”
Jordan looked at Aidan. “So, you have suspects?”
Aidan swallowed, trying to think of a way to evade the question. It was Shaun who answered.
“Look, man.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. His skin color contrasted with Jordan’s paleness. “Don't worry yourself.”
“Right,” Jordan grumbled.
Aidan only nodded while he and Shaun made their way to the door. They didn't bother speaking until the agents reached their respective cars.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aidan told Shaun. He climbed into the car to return to Laura’s house for the night.
64
WHEN AIDAN ARRIVED home, he opened the garage, pulling the loaned company vehicle into his usual spot. Immediately noticing Laura's car wasn’t there, he looked at the time on the dashboard. It was after midnight.
Where could she be?
It wasn’t like Cheyenne to leave in the middle of the night. Whether she had an emergency or decided on a late night ice cream run, she would have called or texted. The officers were still across the street, so where was Cheyenne?
And why would she have taken Laura’s car and not her own?
Aidan opened the door and called out to her, but his racing heart knew something wasn’t right.
Instinct had him drawing out his weapon.
He called out for her again, but no response came.
Slowly, Aidan checked each room, but nothing appeared disturbed.
“Hey, honey?” he called again. “Love, are you home?”
His pulse throbbed underneath his skin and his hands began to sweat. Something was wrong. Aidan could feel it with each breath he took. With one hand holding his weapon, he used his free one to push the door to the master bedroom open.
He almost dropped his gun when he saw the room.
On the wall, were the words your move.
It was scratched out by something sharp. Aidan assumed it was from the kitchen knife left on the bed of white carnation petals.
“Cheyenne!” he hollered through the silent house.
Aidan rushed into the adjoining bathroom, and then rechecked all the other rooms, including the closets.
His heart was now lodged in his throat, beating faster by the second. He tried to catch his breath, but couldn’t. Aidan gripped the wall to steady himself but still fell to his knees.
Cheyenne wasn't there.
She was his next victim.
His fingers feeling like putty, he struggled to hold the cell as he called Shaun.
It took a few rings for his partner to answer. “Yeah?”
“He has her.”
“What?”
Aidan didn’t say anything. He couldn’t find the words.
“Aidan, what’s going on? I didn’t hear you.” He clearly seemed annoyed. “Listen, it’s been a really long day, and I—”
“He has Cheyenne,” Aidan said again. His voice shook, but he knew Shaun heard him because he cursed.
“I’m on my way.”
As Shaun ended the call, Aidan heard the screeching sound of tires, presumably Shaun making a quick U-turn. Aidan struggled to his feet.
He went back into the bedroom and looked at the white petals covering the bed, and then the embedded note on the wall.
Your move.
Nothing about Cheyenne’s abduction made sense.
She didn’t fit the profile of The Carnations Killer: she had brown, not blonde hair. She wore glasses—none of the others did.
So why did he go after her?
Because you love her.
The words echoed in his head.
Aidan scanned the room for anything out of place but found nothing. He wanted to grab the petals from the bed and toss them in the trash, but he needed to wait. The room had to be documented.
“Aidan!” Shaun’s voice bellowed from downstairs as the door banged open.
He shouted to Shaun that he was upstairs. Aidan stared at the words on the wall, hearing several footsteps before Shaun rushed into the bedroom, backup trailing after him.
Shaun sucked in a heavy breath, then released another curse.
He instructed one of the agents to begin processing the
