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CHAPTER ONE
Chloe
Friday, March 24, 18:30
Cinnamon seeped like rot through Detective Chloe Van Belle’s bones as she stepped into the mirror room of the funhouse. What was supposed to be a fun spring evening out with her boyfriend had turned into an unwanted call to Halpin River’s Founder’s Day carnival. Neon lights flickered in patterned bursts. She stepped further inside. The mirrors distorted her appearance, some lengthening her already lanky body while others curved and twisted her, making her face wider, her legs wavy.
Bloody footprints, smeared from where teenagers had noticed the scene and run the opposite way, tracked across the metal floor. Chloe continued through the room. More mirrors created fractals of different angles, some muddied with red handprints, highlighted by multicolored cabochon lights. From here, Chloe could see the sandy-colored hair of the victim. In another mirror, the torso. And another, legs and a pair of used-to-be-white tennis shoes now spattered in red.
Carefully, Chloe moved through the maze with her partner, Detective Esker Barns. She paused for a moment, waiting to adjust to her synesthesia’s reaction to the tinny carnival music. Bubbles and swirls of coral and crimson danced before her, the louder the carnival music got. Chloe stopped short, closing and opening her eyes multiple times. Esker waited for her, patiently, like he always did. Once her eyes attuned to the pops of oranges and reds, she turned her focus to the victim.
Stepping even closer, Chloe could make out the hem of a white sundress, splashed with burgundy that streamed along the young woman’s bare legs. The wound started just above her hip and sliced to the other side, through her dress. Deep and long. Fatal.
“Victim is young—maybe in her early twenties,” Chloe said to Esker once they were standing above the woman.
She knelt and pressed her fingers against the victim’s throat. She already knew the answer, but she had to check.
No pulse.
“Looks like she was stabbed right under her waist,” Esker said, crouching beside her. “It’s a pretty deep gash. I don’t think she suffered long, but she did suffer.”
“Agree.” Chloe surveyed the area.
No weapon, but there was a messenger bag. With gloved hands, Chloe unzipped the bag and found the woman’s wallet. She flipped it open to find a driver’s license and a rather nice-looking DMV photo. The woman in the photo smiled back, her eyes bright, her makeup done, and hair styled in long, sandy waves.
“Addison Bray, age twenty-three, lives over on Posy Lane; looks like an apartment complex address. Organ donor.” Chloe thought Addison looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her. Maybe she’d seen her around town. She rummaged through the bag, finding something heavy wrapped in brown paper, a bow tied in twine around it.
“What’s that?” Esker asked, using his flashlight to illuminate the package.
“Looks like some sort of gift,” Chloe said. She turned it in her hands before placing it back inside the bag. “Doesn’t say who it’s for, though. Let’s get this bagged up for evidence.”
A few techs ambled in and got to work on the evidence markers. Cameras flashed as they moved around Addison’s body.
“It appears that Ms. Bray was the sole target of the murder. She was alone, maybe she knew her assailant,” Chloe said. “I think she came into the fun house to try and hide, but the killer found her. This happened while everyone else was busy on the rides. Must’ve been sort of quiet around here.”
“I agree. I think it’s an isolated event.” Esker stood as the overhead lights turned on, highlighting the crime and reflecting it back to them in the mirrors. It was much bloodier than it’d appeared in the dim lighting.
“She fought back,” Chloe said, noting the handprints on the mirrors and the streaks through a pool of blood on the floor. A few cuts marked Addison’s fingers, some small, some deeper. “I bet there’s DNA under her nails.” Which was good news for them.
Maybe the DNA would get a hit, and this would end soon. The only thing better than an open-and-shut case was no case at all.
Chloe stood and glanced at Addison’s blue, foggy eyes. Her mouth was open slightly, but there were no blowflies. “This happened recently, like within the past hour. No bugs.”
“We’ll need to see if there are any CCTVs set up, see if we can catch the killer or Addison walking around the grounds,” Esker said.
“I want to talk to the teenagers who found her,” Chloe said. “I’m going outside to get their statements. McDavey should be on her way.”
Esker dipped his head in agreement, and Chloe worked her way out of the fun house. Crime scene tape wrapped around the perimeter, and police lights flashed red and blue, cruisers blocking a crowd of people who were too nosy for their own good. Radios beeped while officers answered. In the distance, an ambulance siren wailed.
Chloe walked at a clipped pace, making her way through the patrol officers until she got to the responding officer, one she didn’t recognize. She looked young, possibly right out of the police academy. Her brunette hair was cut in a choppy bob, and her makeup still looked fresh despite being called to a homicide.
“I’m Detective Van Belle. I don’t think we’ve met,” Chloe said as she held out her hand.
“Officer Mariya Kovalenko, but I go by Mitzie,” the officer said, taking Chloe’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “These are the two teenagers who found the body. Gerry Bishop and Kendall Kraus.”
Chloe glanced at the teenagers, who stood beside Mitzie with wide eyes. The girl’s hands trembled as she twisted them together, and the boy released a shaking breath.
“Our parents are on the way, but they said we can talk to you,” the boy, Gerry, said.
He was taller than Chloe and had a military buzz cut. Blond. The girl was much tinier, in height and build, with wavy bleached-blonde hair. She wore a spray-painted tee with her name in bright pink and framed with red cherries and a pair of Aeropostale shorts.
“Great,” Chloe said. She introduced herself once again before asking, “Can you tell me in your own words what happened?”
“This is our first date,” Kendall blabbed. “I mean, it’s the first time our parents have let us go out together. Only because we were in a group. Thought the carnival would be a safe place and it is, normally, right?” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“Right,” Chloe assured.
“We were in a group, but they all wanted to go on the really crazy rides that spin, and I get dizzy, so we decided to do the fun house … which I guess could also make me dizzy, but we didn’t even get to the rotating exit so…”
“What happened when you went inside the fun house?” Chloe asked.
“Nothing at first. We didn’t see anything, like a murderer or anything. There wasn’t a line, so we thought it was a good time,” Gerry cut in.
“Guess we were wrong.” Kendall pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Oh my God.”
“We made it through the first two rooms, and when we got to the mirror room, I don’t know, I guess it felt weird. We stepped into it … the blood … someone already took our shoes.” Gerry pointed to his bare feet. “Our parents are bringing us clean shoes.”
“Okay, and what happened when you saw the body?” Chloe asked, trying to get more out of them than what they were giving.
She understood that they were young and shaken, but she needed them to focus.
“Well, I was in front of Gerry, and we were having fun with the way the mirrors distorted us. We took a few photos and then continued through the room, and that’s when we saw…”
Spit it out.
“We saw a woman on the floor with blood everywhere. She was … she was crying.”
“She was still alive when you saw her?” Chloe asked.
“Yeah. But we were too scared to stay with her. Is that bad? Is that, like, illegal?” Gerry asked, his eyes widening as fear swept over him, like he hadn’t considered the possibility until just then.
“We called 911 the second we were out of there, but we were scared that someone might get us, too, so we couldn’t stay,” Kendall explained. “It was like a horror movie.” She inhaled sharply, her breath uneven. “When we got out, we noticed that we had blood all over our sandals and feet.” Kendall started to hyperventilate, her chest heaving harshly.
She bent over, placing her hands on her knees to try to gain composure, but it didn’t help.
“I need a medic over here!” Chloe shouted to the paramedics, who came running to help Kendall. “Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?”
Gerry shook his head. “I noticed she was wearing a white dress, but that’s only because the blood was all over it. I should have done something to help her…”
“You did the right thing by getting out of there and calling 911,” Chloe said.
She couldn’t expect teenagers to know what to do in a situation like this. Hell, most adults wouldn’t know what to do in that situation, let alone minors.
“Thank you for your help,” Chloe said.
While the paramedics tended to the kids, Chloe pulled Mitzie aside.
“Has the carnival owner stopped by yet?”
“I haven’t seen him. The ride operators are pretty rattled,” Mitzie said. “Why? What do you need?”
“CCTV.” Chloe stepped back and looked up at the large fun house sign.
A bulky, flat wooden clown with rainbow polka dots waved while looking down at a moving metal platform that led inside. There were no cameras here.
“Walk with me,” Chloe said to Mitzie. “We’re looking for cameras.”
The women stepped around the building to the back, where the wooden structure was plain, a drastic change from the colorful front. Screams from the Kamikaze filled the air along with the scent of greasy fair fries drenched in vinegar.
“There’s a door here. The killer might have snuck in through the back,” Chloe said.
“That would make sense. The ride operator told me that he was up front when this happened, scrolling on his cell phone,” Mitzie said. “He wasn’t much help, but I got his statement.”
“Fantastic,” Chloe said, dryly.
“I don’t see any cameras.” Mitzie set her hands on her hips.
She was shorter than Chloe, probably standing around five feet one.
“Me, either,” Chloe said, a little defeated. “I want you to find the carnival owner and have them pull any CCTV they have of the fairgrounds. Start with the ride operator; he should have the contact.”
“I’ll get on that right now,” Mitzie said.
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” Mitzie said.
Chloe returned to the front with the officer and then went back inside the fun house, where Dr. Laura McDavey, the city’s coroner, was assessing the body. Esker was down on his haunches, actively discussing whatever McDavey was saying.
“What’d you find?” Chloe asked.
“It seems she was stabbed multiple times. There’s a large gash in her right shoulder that meets with her clavicle, see?” McDavey gently moved the skin. “There’s another on her left hand, where she tried to grab the blade from the assailant. But the gash along her abdomen was likely the fatal one. I’ll confirm when I do the autopsy.”
“Do you think she would have survived if someone had found her sooner?” Chloe asked.
She felt bad for the kids, that this would weigh on them for the rest of their lives. The what-ifs were brutal. Chloe would know.
McDavey shook her head. “At this point, there was likely nothing anyone could do, even if she’d been found earlier. The gash in her abdomen is very deep and likely hit her spleen.”
“How soon can you do the autopsy?” Esker asked.
“I’ll do it tonight since it’s a pressing matter,” McDavey said.
“Anything else you can tell us?” Chloe asked, not ready to move on yet.
Something was bothering her—where did she know Addison Bray from? She certainly didn’t know her from work. Maybe she’d run into her around the city. Halpin River was a smaller city than most, but the chances they would have met were still rather slim. She’d run Addison’s license soon, and maybe that would shed some light on why she looked so familiar.
“What’s that?” Esker asked, pointing to something white and raised on Addison’s left shoulder blade. “I didn’t notice it until just now. Is it one of those white tattoos?”
McDavey moved to the other side of Addison’s body and knelt. “No, I don’t think it’s a tattoo. I think it’s … a branding.”
“What?” Chloe’s eyes widened, and she stepped over and joined McDavey on the floor.
The skin formed a quarter-sized circle with a cross at its center. Chloe squinted to read the branding.
“The Hearth,” she said out loud. “That doomsday cult in the woods?”
“Holy shit,” Esker said in a hush.
Chloe glanced at Esker, who then muttered, “Fuck.”
“Let’s log it, and we will circle back once we get more information on Addison Bray,” Chloe said.
“What are the chances we are wrong about this being isolated?” Esker asked, standing up next to Chloe.
She knew he knew … because Chloe knew.
A cult branding was never nothing. And in Halpin River, cults ran deep.
End of Excerpt
