One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

files splayed across the table. She felt like she had been staring at them for hours. It was now ten thirty in the evening. They had arrived at the headquarters an hour ago and had been trying to come up with theories since their arrival, but so far they had made little progress.

“It has to be someone with knowledge of forensics,” Tara said as she stared down at Reese’s forensics report. It was something they had already mentioned, but Tara had a strong feeling that the theory was true, and she couldn’t ignore it. But who? She couldn’t get the thought out of her head, nor did she want to until an answer was found.

The killer was careful enough not to leave DNA behind. He had cleaned the victim’s fingernails. He had strangled her, strategically, with something he knew wouldn’t trace easily back to him. He was aware of cameras and made sure he wasn’t seen by the gas station. And Tara was sure he used gloves.

“Maybe law enforcement?” she questioned.

Warren sat beside her, his arm resting on the table with his hand on his forehead as he stared over Alyssa’s report. “It’s crossed my mind too,” he replied, his eyes not moving from the folder in front of him. “That could also explain why no one heard them get abducted.” He then looked up, his eyes moving to Tara. “Like we said before, it seems the victims may have gone willingly. If the killer’s a respected cop, that could be why.”

Tara nodded. A cop as the killer could explain a lot. It could even be someone who worked close on the case. She got up out of her chair, moving to a computer on the other side of the room. She wanted to run background checks on the sheriff and detective they had interacted with earlier. If she was right, the killer might have had an incident in the past that may not have seemed too alarming. Maybe an angry outburst or even a suspension.

She told Warren what she was doing, and he pulled a chair closer. They looked up Sheriff Patel first. He had been in law enforcement for twenty years. He had no record, only gleaming reviews. They then looked up Detective Wade. He had been with the department for a much shorter time, only ten years, but so far there was nothing on his background check that seemed alarming.

Tara sighed. “I think we should get a list of all cops in the area and get a background check.”

Warren agreed. “We can’t ask the cops to do it. Maybe Grace?”

Grace was the secretary in their division. She was usually in the office late, and Tara was certain she was probably still in the building. They had passed her on the way in. Tara agreed, and Warren was soon out of his chair, in the doorway, calling to her. Her desk was not far from the office they stood in. She hurried over. She wore a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, her hair in a short bob framing her face. Her eyes looked red and tired, and Tara suddenly felt bad about adding something more to her plate, but they needed it. Warren explained the task.

“Yeah, I can do that,” she agreed without hesitation. She had her bags already strapped over her shoulder. She was clearly heading out. “It just might take me until midmorning to get back to you.”

“That’s fine,” Warren replied. They both thanked her, and she hurried back to her desk.

Tara’s phone beeped in front of her. She looked down. It was a text from John.

Late night?

Tara looked at the time; it was now almost eleven.

Warren looked up at the clock as well. “I say we call it a night. There’s not much more we can do tonight.”

Tara agreed, but there was one thought that kept returning to her mind—the motive. Why would a cop want to kill innocent girls? She had her own conclusions, but she wanted to see what Warren thought. She turned and asked him.

Warren leaned back in his chair. “I think they’d want to see how much they can get away with. Young girls getting murdered stirs quite the circus. It could all be a game.”

Tara agreed; it was her exact conclusion.

***

Tara entered her apartment and was immediately met by John. She had called him on the way home to let him know she was on her way, and now he was in the kitchen pouring a kettle that had just boiled.

“How was your day?” he asked. He placed a plate of food in the microwave

Tara tossed her bag on a table next to the door and then sank onto a barstool, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Tiring,” she admitted. She didn’t want to go into detail. It pained her that the killer could still be at large, and speaking about it to John would only dig at the wound more.

“How was yours?” she asked, trying to remove the attention from herself.

He shrugged. “Not too bad,” he replied as he pulled the plate out the microwave and walked over to give Tara a kiss. He placed a plate of leftover lasagna in front of her. “I figured you’d be hungry.”

He took a seat next to her as Tara began to eat. “Since you were getting home late, I decided to go practice with the band after work,” he continued. “We got our first gig in two days.” He smiled proudly. “Playing some Rush covers.”

“That’s awesome!” Tara replied excitedly. She was happy for him. Not only was he a huge Rush fan and idolized Neil Peart, but for the first time John seemed to be enjoying his life fully, and she completely supported it. She asked where they were playing.

“Right in town,” he replied before naming a local bar. “I really hope you can make it,” he added as he stood up to grab the tea that had now finished brewing. He slid a cup across the island counter to