During the first week of Ariella’s time at Gates Mill University, she and her friends made plenty of progress in preparation for the Gates Mill Gate Keepers Podcast.
Vance was gone from home fairly often, always working with Lumis and discussing possible leads on the Cutthroat Killer case—and, meanwhile, Ariella and her gang were hard at work, starting on their new school assignments and helping Rodney to modify his small hidden room after class. After two days, Jaxson was able to hire the most affordable men available for the contracting work—and the entire evening of Wednesday, men were working to add a lock to the door, as well as lining every inch of the room’s small interior with soundproof material. During this time, Rodney oversaw the process while Ariella and the others carried all the recording equipment to the health wing by themselves, which was no easy process—but, thankfully, they were finished before the day’s end.
After their classes ended on Thursday, Arkus was quick to lead everyone off the campus, leaping into the driver seat of his truck and hurriedly starting the engine. He and the others were excited to take Ariella to their church for the first time, hoping to introduce her to their pastor friend, Julian. Truthfully, Ariella didn’t mind at all, though she wondered why they all seemed so excited to go to a church. This place must’ve been something out of the ordinary.
Arkus drove all his friends to the southeast side of Gates Mill, parking his truck in the parking lot of a gas station, which sat at the end of a long, narrow street. The street stretched further southeast, sitting in between a very steep hill and a trailer park. And—after everyone ventured into the gas station and purchased their snacks for the afternoon—Arkus led them all down the sidewalk, waltzing right past his truck and leaving it behind.
“Um… you guys?” Ariella said. “Where’re we going?”
“To church,” Arkus told her. “We always show up early. We’re painfully punctual like that... mainly because we never have anything better to do. We don’t like driving the truck up the hill with people in the back, though. It’s steep as hell.”
The church sat atop a huge hill. The driveway leading up to the parking lot was so steep, Ariella suspected you could jump from the top and completely clear it, hitting the street without touching the hillside. They marched past the grassy hill, hoofed it up the long driveway, and walked across the wide, spacious parking lot. The front of the building looked like any ordinary church, but the back was the complete opposite. It was a large, square, warehouse-like segment with double-doors on the side, both of them propped open with chunks of broken cinderblocks. Across from the doors sat a school bus, which was used to pick up the participants of the youth service who couldn’t walk or get a ride to church, and the entire youth side was surrounded by vast wooded hillsides.
The front of the building was the church portion, with the fancy seats and the spotless carpet—but the rear building was the section of the church intended for the youth program. The inside was nothing more than a gym, complete with a foldable stage up front, a speaker system, a basketball goal on the opposite side, and two doorways, one leading to the kitchen and the other leading to the back hall and the stairway. The gym was totally empty, as they’d arrived hours before anyone was expected.
Zane and Jaxson darted inside, racing toward the basketball rack and scrambling to yank the balls away from each other. Ariella stood in the doorway, pleasantly surprised at the sight of the youth church.
“Welcome to the church of the outcasts,” Arkus smirked proudly. “Gates Mill Church of God, home to all the freaks, bums, misfits, and semi-religious types who like playing games and getting free food.”
“I love it already,” Ariella said honestly. “When does the service actually start?”
“Um… around seven in the evening,” Arkus answered. “And… it’s about five o’clock right now. Yeah… we come a bit early, if you haven’t noticed. It’s nice having the gym to ourselves.”
Ariella laughed and nodded.
Zane strolled inside by himself, purposely leaving Lucy’s side when she wasn’t looking. Tammy darted up to Lucy and dragged her off to the kitchen, hoping to talk to Julian before anyone else showed up. Zane and Jaxson began pelting each other with basketballs, resulting in a painful and anarchistic game of dodgeball.
All the while, Ariella and Arkus remained in the doorway, leaning on either side of the doorframe and snickering at the sight of their friends’ horseplaying.
After a moment, Ariella stole a glimpse of him, seeing that Arkus was now holding his phone, glaring into it and no longer smiling.
“Arkus,” Ariella sighed, deciding that she was tired of avoiding the topic. “What’s going on with you and your dad…?”
Arkus turned, one of his brows perking as he stared at her blankly.
Ariella gave him a deflated sort of look. “All I know is… he’s filthy rich, and he’s extremely distant. But in the past two years… I haven’t heard anything else about him… and now it seems like you and him are like… mad at each other.”
“Well, he… y’know…” Arkus nodded sideways and stuffed the phone away. “He wanted me to get into business. And now, he… well… completely hates me.”
“Why?” Ariella asked sincerely.
Arkus faced her again, this time looking far more serious. “Because I told him I didn’t wanna get into his business. He took partial ownership of Brunelli’s Credit Loan when we moved to America, and because of that, he thinks I oughta take over his empty lifestyle someday. But, since I chose psychology as my major instead of business… I had to tell him the truth. Had to tell him that I don’t plan to take over his building of office drones.”
“So… what… he disowned you?” Ariella wondered.
Arkus faced away, glaring directly ahead at nothing in particular. “Aye.”
“Seriously? He completely dropped you—just because you don’t wanna work at his job?” Ariella griped in disbelief. “That’s stupid.”
“Aye… well… what can ya’ do?” Arkus exhaled.
The two of them were quiet for a few seconds. They chuckled when Zane planted a basketball directly into the back of Jaxson’s head, making a loud pop and causing him to double over.
“Just out of curiosity,” Ariella said, smirking at Arkus. “Do you have any idea what you actually want to do with your life?”
Arkus faced her once more, his childlike smile making a full return. “Wouldn’t have bothered going to college if I had that figured out.”
Ariella smiled and nodded in response.
Lost to her thoughts, she then wandered across the gym and ventured into the dark hallway on the other side. Part of it led to a basement, but to the right was a staircase, which was very hard to navigate, as it was shrouded in pitch black. Ariella managed to climb the stairs without tripping, curious to see what was on the second floor, trying not to think about Arkus’s family situation and only halfway succeeding.
The first room on the left was open, and unlike all the others, a dim light shone out of it. She was able to hear a series of faint noises coming from the room. It sounded like someone was rifling through a bunch of clutter.
Ariella peered inside. It was a game room; there was a pool table in the middle, a few arcade games along the walls, and a television in the corner, though she could barely see them in the darkness. There was a closet in this room, and its door was standing open.
The inside of the closet seemed to be where the light was shining from, and a tall ladder stood in its doorway.
She drew closer, stopping at the end of the ladder and gazing upward. At the top of the ladder was a skinny, well-dressed young man who had long black hair under a trilby hat, a thin black overcoat, a sleek black button-up, and pants to match. The stranger appeared to be trying to pull a large box from the top shelf, not realizing that the ladder was shaking to and fro, looking like it might tip over.
“Hey,” Ariella called up to him. “Need some help?”
“Oh—geez—you scared me,” the stranger replied, jumping and making the ladder jerk to the side. Ariella quickly grabbed it and held it steady.
“Your ladder’s shaking all over the place,” she told him. “You really shouldn’t be doing this by yourself. Especially in the dark.”
“Yeah… okay… good point,” the stranger uttered. “Uh… could you hold the ladder for me? I’ve gotta climb down with this box.”
“Sure.”
She held the ladder still. The stranger carefully descended, stepping off the ladder, a massive cardboard box in his arms.
When they were level with each other—Ariella swallowed, meeting his eyes and feeling a strange sense of deja-vu.
This guy wore a large shiny cross around his neck, a pair of small, transparent glasses on his face—and behind the lenses were a pair of bottle green eyes.
“Thank you,” he said. “I can usually manage by myself here. I don’t have a lot of volunteers to spare… but… there wouldn’t have been anyone left to run the youth service if I ended up falling and breaking my neck. Heh. Maybe I should’ve turned the lights on, but I like to try to conserve the electricity. Anyway… thanks.”
“Uhm… no problem,” Ariella replied. “What’re you doing alone up here, anyway?”
“Looking for decorations,” he told her, placing the box on the pool table. “The lock-in is still a long time away, but I’d like to be prepared. I’ll have to decorate the place pretty much by myself, after all. Oh… I’m Julian, by the way. And you are?”
He smiled politely, extending a hand. Ariella returned the handshake, trying not to stare at his painfully genuine eyes.
“I’m Ariella. Nice to meet you.”
“And you,” Julian said kindly.
Downstairs, Jaxson pelted Arkus in the stomach with a basketball, making harsh echoing PANG. The noise, followed by Arkus’s screaming laugh, ventured upstairs and met their ears. Ariella giggled at the sound of it.
“Sounds like my posse is here,” Julian synopsized. “Did you come with Arkus and the gang?”
“Yeah, they’re friends of mine from school,” Ariella answered. “So… what kind of church is this? I’ve never seen one like it before. It looks… different.”
“You mean it looks fun?” Julian said.
Ariella nodded amusedly. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well… this part is just a youth service.” Julian spoke as he dug through the box of Halloween decorations. “Sometimes, we have services for little kids, and sometimes, we have them for teenagers and young adults. Occasionally, we have parties. My audience is always quite a bit younger than the rest of the church’s, so I thought it would be nice if this place appealed to people my age and younger. Plus, this place didn’t have a youth service until I proposed the idea. We had nowhere to hold the service… except back here, in the recreation wing. That’s how I ended up with a party church.”
“So… this is your job? How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-eight, and I can’t really call it a job… mainly because I don’t get paid for it.”
“Seriously? You do all this work for free?”
“Well, for charity, and the satisfaction. But… yes… basically for free.”
Julian succeeded in untangling an assortment of purple Halloween lights, pausing and digging deeper into the box.
“What’re you gonna decorate for?” Ariella asked him.
“The lock-in,” Julian informed. “In October, I always hold a lock-in shortly before Halloween. It’s like a party, but it’s also a great big sleepover. Everyone comes by for the Halloween party, and they bring their sleeping bags and blankets and pillows. Once ten o’clock comes around, I lock all the doors, and we all spend the night in the church.”
“So it’s an all-night party?”
“Exactly.”
“That sounds awesome.”
“Yeah, it’s a big hit. Boomsday and the carnival are both coming up pretty soon, but once they’re over, the kids in this town need something fun to keep them occupied around Halloween. It makes for a lot less pranks on mischief night. Everyone in town thanks me for not having to clean eggs and toilet paper off their cars anymore.”
Ariella grinned and nodded.
“Well, I’ve gotta go downstairs and clean off all the tables before the food gets here,” Julian told her. “I’m not cooking tonight. I ordered a dozen pizzas. They all seem to love God a bit more when there’s pizza involved.”
“Do you need some help?”
“Oh, sure. I’d appreciate it.”
Julian separated the lights from the rest of the decorations and put them back in the closet. He and Ariella ventured downstairs and past the basketball war, finding Tammy and Lucy in the dining area, sitting across from each other and gossiping. This room was longer than it was wide, with numerous foldable tables lined up against each other, creating a table surface that was nearly as long as the room itself.
Ariella grabbed one of Julian’s rags and helped him to wipe down all the tables. Arkus, Zane, and Jaxson appeared in the gym’s doorway, red-faced, sweating, and panting with exhaustion as they leaned into the dining room.
“What’s cookin’ in here, ladies?” Arkus exhaled. “And Julian.”
“Have a good game, Arkus?” Julian asked. “I trust you cleaned up all the basketballs you threw all over the place?”
“I… will clean them up.” Arkus raised a finger, sauntering into the room and plopping down on one of the metal chairs. “As soon as I can breathe again.”
The group continued to laugh and chat for a while, Ariella occasionally stopping to help Julian with his errands. The two of them set up about fifty metal chairs in the gym for the service.
As time passed, the church filled with more teens and young adults, many of whom Ariella recognized from the university. When the time came, Julian hopped aboard the foldable stage in the gym and began his speech, which was surprisingly entertaining. The crowd heckled him and joked about his statements, and Julian had a witty reply for each remark, which always made everyone laugh. Ariella sat in the crowd with her friends, watching Julian switch between his Biblical lecture and entertaining the audience.
When it all concluded, Julian sprang off the stage and plugged a smartphone into the speakers, filling the gym with Christian rock music. Some people left to line up at the kitchen for pizza while others dragged out all the gym equipment and began to play. Music blared, pizza was served, and everyone was playing without a care in the world.
Day turned to night, and as Ariella joined in a game of basketball-dodgeball with her friends—the Cutthroat Killer stood idly by in the darkened parking lot. He remained deathly still in the darkness, listening to the music, hearing the voices of the children, and observing the church with rapt attentiveness, still maintaining a patient, watchful eye over the gang of outcasts who surrounded his living witness, Ariella Callaghan.
No one was around to see him vanish into the trees, his black, tattered overcoat fading into the night like a shadow.
The town was frantic with excitement now, spreading whispers and rumors about the Cutthroat Killer’s return.
After her first visit to Gates Mill Church of God, Ariella helped Julian clean up the eating area after all the young church-goers trashed the place. Later in the evening, her mind was plagued by a wild series of lucid dreams, resulting in another restless night until she awoke to the news on the television, which was playing an exclusive story about the death of Joseph Wick.
Shortly after she went to school and regrouped with her friends the next day—Vance left the house and drove to the bar on the corner of Gleason Avenue, a place called Shamrock. It was an Irish pub, and whenever he and Lumis would visit the place in the morning, there would be little to no customers, making it the perfect environment to talk about their cases without interruptions or eavesdroppers.
Vance and Lumis claimed their favored booth in the corner, ordering their usual morning coffees before resuming their ongoing conversation regarding the Cutthroat Killer.
“So,” Vance began. “The forensics didn’t give you anything to go on?”
“No,” Lumis replied. “No DNA, and they’re having trouble trying to identify the murder weapon. The throat wasn’t just slit… it was…”
“Sawed, yeah. The skin was ripped and frayed. Just like before.”
“Mhm. Now… why do you think this killer is killing according to some moral code?”
“Because it’s the only thing that connects the victims.”
Lumis surveyed him, stroking his chin and losing himself to his thoughts. After a moment of staring, he reached to his side, collecting the file that was sitting in the booth beside him. He tossed it onto the table and scooted it toward his PI.
Vance squinted oddly at the detective. “What’s that?”
“A list,” Lumis told him. “I spent forever on this. That’s a carefully compiled list of all the people who left town or went missing in town during the timeline of Cutthroat. I spent some time following up on some of them, checking to see where they are now—and I crossed out the ones who aren’t fitting suspects. The rest are open to investigate.”
“Oh… good thinking,” Vance nodded, suddenly understanding. “If the killer is a homebody, then he’s probably one of these people. He had to be on the radar at some point in time.”
“Exactly,” Lumis affirmed. “And all evidence points to him being a Gates Mill homebody. He’s struck here twice, he expertly evades the police here, he knows exactly when and where to ambush his victims, and he always manages to get away somehow. He clearly knows this town like the back of his hand, which means he probably grew up here…”
“And he’s probably one of these people,” Vance murmured distractedly, holding up the list and skimming over the names. “Someone who just dropped off the Gates Mill radar one day… and started living in the shadows so he could kill…”
Lumis nodded, cupping his hands and watching patiently.
Vance held it close to his eyes.
The list read:
Jane Cooper
Eliza Grant
Ken Lawrence
Charlie Hammer
Alison Hunter
Harley Hunter
Bradley Walker
Angelo Hernandez
Devon Greene
Vance’s eyes seemed to fixate on the second name, his head beginning to pulsate. Then, as his gaze ventured down the list, he scanned over the surname Hunter, glaring at it for a few seconds before he reread Bradley Walker.
“Eliza Grant,” he uttered, glancing up and meeting Lumis’s eyes. “That… that one rings a bell. Do I know who that is…?”
“Well… I’d say so,” Lumis said grimly. “You killed her.”
Vance’s brows raised, giving the list a double-take. “Oh. Right, that was…”
“Ariella’s foster mother,” Lumis confirmed. “Yeah. Turns out, Eddie Grant was the sole foster parent, and Eliza wasn’t even part of the program. Eddie was just sheltering her. She had a habit of disappearing from her married life for long periods of time and then returning home once she ended up in trouble. She was reported missing once after she brutally assaulted a woman in the Hub and skipped town, and that’s why she’s on the list. Eliza had a few warrants when she was living on the outskirts of town… when she killed Eddie, and… when all that shit went down. But, since we know she’s deceased, I marked her off the list of suspects.”
“Naturally,” Vance nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowing at the list intriguingly. “These two… who are these two?”
He held up the piece of paper in front of Lumis, tapping it and pointing to the two Hunter surnames. The detective read the names and leaned back, sighing and folding his arms.
“A married couple who went missing a long time ago,” Lumis reported gravely.
Vance glared into the names once more, and the longer he did, the more his headache seemed to weigh on him.
Lumis observed him closely. “What? Your gears cranking yet?”
“No, I… I’m just wondering why I don’t remember this,” Vance told him, his voice low and thoughtful. “I can’t remember any… Hunters…”
“Well… that’s easy,” Lumis shrugged. “You weren’t here when the Hunters went missing.”
Vance squinted at him questioningly.
“Iraq, Vance,” Lumis added. “You were overseas when it happened. The Hunters went missing before you and I ever met—before you ever started doing this work.”
Vance fell silent, his eyes locked onto the Hunter surnames and his skull throbbing. He thought it strange that simply reading the names bothered him, but eventually, he gave up on trying to determine why, shaking his head and tearing his eyes from the Hunters. He read the rest of the list over, nodded, and looked to the detective again.
But before Vance could voice any questions, Lumis spoke on.
“It was a weird case, too,” he muttered, leaning back crookedly and gazing across the rest of the pub. “Certainly could’ve used your help on it. I got an anonymous call about a homicide at the Hunter residence… but when we got there, the house was empty. Spotless, uninhabited, and abandoned. We searched the area, but we never found anything. The Hunter couple just vanished off the face of the planet.”
“They could’ve been cutthroat victims,” Vance mumbled darkly. “The caller could’ve been a witness. Maybe the Cutthroat Killer had a reason for targeting the Hunters, and he had just enough time to clean the place and cover his tracks before the cops came.”
“Eh… it’s possible,” Lumis said with a sideways nod. “If Cutthroat actually killed more people than we’re aware of, it would explain why there was a fifteen-year gap between Mary’s murder and Joseph’s murder. It’s possible that Cutthroat was killing others during that time in between, but nobody ever picked up on it. Although, the Hunters went missing before Mary was killed…”
“He might be responsible for some of the missing people on this list,” Vance determined, his tone deepening. “Cutthroat is one of these people—and he might be the one who killed the rest of these people.”
“Hell of a puzzle to piece together,” Lumis remarked. “I know it’s asking a lot, but…”
“It’s asking me to do my job,” Vance replied with a smirk. “This isn’t a lot.”
“All right, cocky ass—but we’re gonna have to do a lot of running and snooping,” Lumis stated. “The people who aren’t crossed out—those are the ones who went missing, who aren’t known to be dead, and who I wasn’t able to contact—which means we’re gonna have to go to their old homes, speak to their families and friends, and put a lot of pieces of information together. It’s gonna be a strain on your mind—”
“Strain on my mind?” Vance suddenly sat fully upright, cocking his head at the detective across the table. “No—trying to remember my childhood is a strain on my mind. Trying to remember Iraq is a strain on my mind. But this—decoding everything that’s going on present day— this is where I damn well shine.”
“Yeah… I know that. I’m not talking about your weird memory shit,” Lumis said. “I’m talking about your habit of going overboard.”
Vance stared at him, awaiting an explanation.
Lumis sighed and leaned forward, folding his arms over the table. “Every time you work with me on a particularly perplexing case, you end up pushing yourself over the line—inhaling caffeine, never sleeping, and racking your brain until it damn near breaks you. You need to keep that shit in check this time around—because this is the biggest case we’ve ever gotten, and you can’t afford to end up off your game.”
Vance’s eyes narrowed intensely. “You’re talking like I’m gonna go head-to-head with this guy on my own.”
“Vance,” Lumis said seriously. “Think. The only witness—the only person who’s managed to lay eyes on the Cutthroat Killer—is your own daughter. Think about that for a second.”
Vance’s expression seemed to harden, a slow, grim realization sweeping over him.
Yes—the Cutthroat Killer was a master in the art of getting away with murder. He knew exactly how to cover his tracks and remain off the radar—and the only known witness to his murders was Ariella Callaghan. If the Cutthroat Killer truly was murdering people that the police knew nothing about, then perhaps he had a habit of killing his own witnesses. That would be a sure way of covering his tracks completely—and if that was the Cutthroat Killer’s plan of action, then Ariella might end up in danger.
“It’s been over a month,” Vance muttered in a soft, angry voice. “If that bastard was gonna target Ariella, he would’ve done it by now.”
“Not necessarily,” Lumis countered. “Ariella’s back in school now, and she’s got a lot of friends now, too. She’s almost never alone anymore. The Cutthroat Killer would wait for her to be alone before he makes a move on her—but in the past month or so, she’s either been locked up at home or spending all her time at the university. She hasn’t been outside and alone for long enough for him to try. Not yet.”
“So, what—he’s just waiting? Watching her?” Vance hissed through gritted teeth.
“Vance,” Lumis interrupted loudly, holding up a hand. “I didn’t say that. Calm your shit. It’s all speculative right now. Hell—he’s probably not going after your daughter. But we need to be prepared for that possibility, and you also need to keep your temper in check, when and if that problem comes up. See how mad you just got? That’s what I’m talking about, right there.”
Vance slacked back in his booth, running a hand down his face and feeling utterly frustrated.
Lumis gave him a once-over, sparing a moment of thought before speaking again. “Listen… you need to talk to her friends. If you tell them what’s going on, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind keeping a closer eye on her, just to be safe.”
“She’s already told us everything—she gave us a rundown of the incident, and she gave us a detailed physical description of him,” Vance said irritably, tossing his hand up. “He has no reason to target her now. He can’t shut her up because she’s already talked.”
“And if he finds out that she talked, he’d also have a revenge motive,” Lumis pointed out. “Either way, he has motive to pursue her. They might not be incredibly likely motives, but they exist nonetheless.”
“I need to talk to her,” Vance decided, glaring into his coffee.
“You do,” Lumis agreed. “And I’m gonna have the same talk with my son, just in case.”
“Why would anyone come after your son? He’s not a witness.”
“No, but he’s the son of the town’s head homicide detective—the same detective who’s working to bring down the Cutthroat Killer.”
“Oh. Good point…”
“I don’t think I need to worry too much about my son, though. He’s only ten years old, and he’s always one of two places, either at school or with Marissa. He’s never left alone.”
“That’s good. How is Max, anyway? I haven’t seen him since his last birthday.”
“He’s excellent… and he’s getting huge. I’ll bring him by your place sometime, provided I can manage that without Marissa throwing a fit.”
Vance nodded, glancing down at the list again and thinking of Ariella, his grimace deepening.
Just then, his phone made a muffled ping from his overcoat. He pulled it out and flipped it open, seeing that he’d just gotten a new text message from his daughter.
Ariella’s text read:
Hey Dad… I just found this awesome church yesterday. Me and my friends ended up partying at this place. The church has this super nice dude named Julian as their pastor, and he’s totally awesome. I know you don’t like texting but I just wanted to tell you this real quick. This is the first time I’ve been able to set foot in a church since Eddie died, so… I just felt like telling you. I’m super happy today :D
Love you
-Ari
Vance stared into his old prepaid phone for nearly a full minute, his mouth curling into a faint, subtle half-smile.
“Damn… she’s come a long way,” he sighed.
“You need a new phone,” Lumis remarked. “That damn thing is older than I am.”
“I wish she wouldn’t text me,” Vance mumbled. “It’s easier if it’s just a call…”
“Vance, you’re gonna have to get with the program sooner or later,” Lumis chuckled. “I know how to text, I use a smartphone, and I’m older than you. You need to get a decent phone, and you need to learn how to text.”
“It’s stupid,” Vance griped. “Why can’t people just call? ”
“Because it’s not 1997 anymore,” Lumis smirked. “Come on—we need to get moving. We’ve got a lot to do today. Gotta get started on this list.”
Vance and Lumis finished their coffees, left a tip on the table, and slowly crawled out of their booth. When they stood before one another and prepared to make their leave, Vance’s visage seemed heavy with perturbation again. He gave Lumis a long, uncertain stare.
“What’re the odds?” Vance uttered.
“Odds of what?” Lumis asked.
“Of Cutthroat going after Ariella,” Vance said intensely. “From your perspective, from your professional opinion—tell me honestly. What’re the odds of that happening?”
Lumis slid his hands into his pockets, facing the glass double-doors and pausing for a moment to think. He took in a deep breath, faced Vance again, and replied.
“Honestly… I think you’re probably right,” Lumis disclosed. “I think—and I hope—that if Cutthroat planned to attack Ariella, he would’ve done it, or at least tried it by now, which means we probably have nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah?” Vance said.
“Yeah,” Lumis nodded. “The only reason Cutthroat would pursue her is if she purposefully starts spreading information about him, and she’d have to do it on a wide scale—a scale big enough for him to notice.”
Vance slowly nodded. He grabbed the list from the table, turned to face the door, and flashed a reassured smirk just before the two of them left the building.
When they marched out of the pub, Vance gave Lumis a calm and confident response as they approached the dark maroon four-door, preparing to depart on their investigative journey.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that happening.”