Ariella’s first Friday of the school year was incredibly exciting.
Throughout the entire day, she sent messages to her friends, wrote her assignments quickly, spoke openly and happily with everyone she passed in the hallways, and she grinned through most of her endeavors—because today was the day of the first ever Gates Mill Gates Keepers Podcast recording. All day long, she looked forward to it; she typed about it nonstop in the Facebook chat room, she talked about it furiously throughout lunch, and the pondered on it through the entirety of Rodney’s psychology class, despite his charismatic attitude and the compelling conversation that had taken over his classroom.
Rodney was pacing easefully in the clearing before his desk, as he often did when he spoke to his class. He and his students were steeped in a deep conversation about the psychology of abuse—and all the while, Ariella sat happily in the front row, Arkus and Tammy on either side of her. Jaxson was beside Arkus, and Lucy was beside Tammy, Zane sitting a row behind them with his arms stretched lazily behind his head. During the lecture, Ariella watched Rodney gleefully and listened to his intriguing debates, her eyes repeatedly venturing over to the hidden door in the corner—the door covered with a long red poster, leading to the room where the podcast would soon take place.
“Oh my God,” Ariella murmured quietly, turning to Arkus. “I’m so excited… I can’t wait. I wanna scream.”
“Aye… I know, right?” Arkus smirked in response, leaning back with his arms crossed. He hunched closer to her, keeping his voice low. “I already got some ideas for podcast segments written down. I’m gonna read them off to the listeners and have ‘em vote for the ones they like.”
“That’s awesome! ” Ariella gasped a bit too loudly.
Rodney suddenly stopped talking, his eyes shooting over to the two of them.
“Sorry,” Arkus said to him. “We were just commenting on how remarkable your hair looks today, sir. Well done.”
A few of the students snickered, the professor giving him a caustic sort of smirk.
“Riiight,” Rodney said with a nod. “I like your hair too, Scotty. In fact, that reminds me—I gotta do some weed-whacking when I get home.”
Everyone laughed, Ariella and Arkus exchanging smiles and chuckles.
“Now, if you interrupt me again, I swear—I will make you stand up here and recite the entire national anthem of Scotland,” Rodney snarked.
“Ha! Joke’s on you—Scotland has a bunch of national anthems,” Arkus retorted playfully. “And I don’t know a single damn one of ‘em anymore!”
“Really,” Rodney muttered interestingly, stepping closer to him. “Then perhaps you’d like to stand up here and tell everyone what Scotland’s national animal is instead?”
Instantly, the smile fell off of Arkus’s face.
Ariella, Jaxson, and Tammy all perked up with interest, staring over at him with a rapt curiosity.
“Well?” Rodney smiled, motioning to the rest of the class. “Would you like to tell them, or shall I do the honors?”
“UNICORN!” Arkus bellowed, leaping upright abruptly and whipping around to face the class, his arms jutting outright. “AYE, THAT’S RIGHT—WE SCOTS HAVE A UNICORN AS OUR NATIONAL ANIMAL!” He gave himself a hard slap on the chest. “I REP THE UNICORN! SO SUE ME! I DON’T CARE!”
The entire room erupted in bombastic laughter. Arkus sniggered and grinned, pleased at the reaction, and Rodney chuckled breathlessly, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. It took a while for the class to calm down again, even after Arkus sank back into his seat.
Once Rodney managed to gather everyone’s attention, he continued with his lecture, and Ariella let out a deep sigh, feeling restless. A bit more time passed, and she glimpsed to the side, hearing two hushed voices from somewhere to her left. On Jaxson’s other side, Tammy and Lucy both seemed to be immersed in a deep, whispering conversation.
“I know—Lucy—I know! ” Tammy whisper-yelled. “I know how you feel—but there’s a limit! This obsessive shit isn’t healthy! ”
“It’s not obsessive —it’s love ,” Lucy griped in response. “I’m just following my heart. Okay? I know it might get me hurt—but just be a friend! Be supportive!”
Tammy threw her hands up, scoffing and turning away from her friend, seeming to abandon their argument. Ariella eyed them from over Jaxson’s shoulder, frowning thoughtfully. After a brief moment, she gently tapped Jaxson on the shoulder.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Did you hear all that?”
Jaxson was staring directly forward, his arms folded and his eyes fixed onto Rodney. “I… was trying really hard not to.”
Ariella shrugged and nodded, leaning back and sinking more firmly into her seat. She sighed deeply, then turned her head, peering over her shoulder and gazing into the row behind her.
Zane was seated just behind Arkus, slightly elevated above him, slacked back with his head resting on his arms. He was staring down at her, wearing a smooth, strange smile.
Ariella breathed out a nervous laugh, returning his smile briefly before facing forward again. She felt an unsettled churning in her gut, making an odd face and thinking it bizarre that he’d smiled at her in such a way. Zane had certainly never done that before.
For a while longer, Ariella merely stared out the far windows, gazing across the field in the distance and observing the late afternoon sun beginning to sink beyond the treetops afar.
When class finally concluded, students began to stand and gather their belongings, wandering out the side and rear entrances. With class over, Ariella reached into her pocket, deciding to power her phone back on and check her messages while she waited for the classroom to empty. When she did, she noticed that she’d gotten a recent text from Detective Lumis. The text read:
Ari, your father and I have been talking. I don’t want to freak you out, but just to be safe, I feel the need to tell you.
You need to stay with your friends at all times, if possible. You were the only witness to Joseph Wick’s murder, and it’s possible that Cutthroat might know that. If he does, then you need to be a little extra cautious, just in case. This killer may not like leaving witnesses… but it’s been over a month, so it’s unlikely he would do anything. Just be careful.
Don’t go around school telling everyone that you witnessed Joseph Wick’s death, and don’t go around talking about Cutthroat all the time. And, for the love of God—if any media representatives walk up to you with a microphone, don’t talk to them AT ALL. So long as you don’t go around spreading info about him, then he should have absolutely no reason to show any interest in you.
Ariella quietly reread the text twice, her eyes wandering upward and landing on the poster-covered door in the corner.
Then—out of the blue—a peculiar rush of deja-vu swept over her, a memory returning to her that hadn’t bothered her in years.
She recalled it clear as day, inching down the stairs, hearing the shouts, her heart thrashing madly as fear shot up and down her body like lightning—but in that moment, despite being a small, weak, and defenseless eight-year-old, Ariella chose—for whatever reason—to press on. At the time, it simply seemed like the right and necessary thing to do, and it was worth the risk to approach the looming danger in the kitchen of the Grant home.
And now—as she sat silently inside Rodney’s class, students marching past her and leaving the room—her eyes were locked onto the poster-covered door in the corner, and she felt the very same sensation beginning to arise inside. It was a subtle, mild dread, a strange sort of anxiety identical to the feeling of descending downstairs on the fateful night of Eddie Grant’s death—as if approaching that door would lead to a place of importance and severity, as if a set of dominos were about to collapse in waves, beginning yet another compilation of unforeseeable events in her life—and opening the door to the podcast room would tip the first domino to its fall.
Ariella released a heavy sigh, trying to force the peculiar feelings away. In truth, Lumis’s text did unsettle her. The thought of a serial killer targeting her, even if it was unlikely, was enough to make her heart pound.
But—for the first time in thirteen years—Ariella felt as if she stood at an emotional crossroad, the same one she came to when she was eight years old.
She now had a choice to make; she could accept being a victim, hiding and playing it safe, or she could throw all caution to the wind and choose the stronger, braver, and more dangerous path, acting however she thought best despite the risks attached.
This very decision nearly got her killed when she was younger—but Ariella was no longer a child. In fact, she spent years battling the victim mentality, learning to fight, and trying her damnedest to overcome every fear and make herself stronger in every way possible. Vance raised her well—he taught her to slay the demons of her nightmares and face every problem of life head-on-and now, she couldn’t imagine taking the ‘safer’ path.
After all, Vance certainly wouldn’t play it safe. He would march directly into the conflict and fight to do the right thing.
And as of now, starting the Gates Mill Gate Keepers Podcast felt like the right thing to do.
Perhaps openly broadcasting information about the Cutthroat Killer would endanger her, and perhaps Cutthroat wouldn’t take kindly to her unveiling his dirty laundry on the podcast—but if she and her friends worked to spread information to the public, then maybe it would help to get the Cutthroat Killer caught. That was the main reason Ariella wanted to do the podcast in the first place. It was a step in the right direction for her, an exciting act of nobility that she’d never tried before, something Vance ought to be proud of.
Ariella admired her father, his soldiering attitude, his seemingly fearless disposition, and his ability to carry on fighting despite all the baggage that weighed on him. She wouldn’t do her father any justice if she backed down from the task before her.
So, she turned her phone down to vibrate and slid it back into her pocket, choosing not to reply to Lumis’s text message for now.
Ariella would stay the course, taking on her plan of speaking on a semi-famous podcaster’s channel, and she would speak freely and openly about the Cutthroat Killer. And once she did—once her voice was out there, meeting the ears of hundreds of listeners and revealing everything she saw and everything she knew about the killer—she would deal with whatever consequences eventually arose. Unlike her childhood, she was certain she could handle it now—and besides, not only was she far stronger than she once was, but she also had family and friends now, something she never had as a state’s custody child.
Ariella and her Gate Keepers could handle whatever challenges awaited them in the near future.
“Oy,” Arkus muttered, patting her once on the arm and snapping her out of her thoughts. “Y’okay? What’s a’matter?”
Ariella finally tore her gaze from the corner door, meeting Arkus’s eyes and releasing a stressed cloud of breath.
“It just occurred to me,” she mumbled. “If we do this podcast… and we do it all the time… we might piss the killer off.”
“So?” Arkus laughed and shrugged. “I’m still in ma’ boxing class, Ari. He comes after us, and he’s gonna get a Glasgow arse-kicking from holy fucken’ hell.”
Ariella stared at him for a moment, then choked out a laugh. “You just sounded so Scottish when you said that…”
“Aye… it comes out more whenever I’m hyped,” Arkus smirked. “Or when I’m really pissed off. I swear to God, whenever I’m angry, nobody can understand a damn word I’m saying…”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Ariella giggled. “I’ve met you before.”
“Hey,” Rodney interrupted, leaning forward and trading eyes with the two of them. “Are you ready? Showtime.”
Ariella and Arkus peered around, realizing that all the other students had left—except for their friends, who were now on their feet and heading toward the corner room. Lucy clung onto Zane’s arm as they walked, Jaxson and Tammy mumbling to one another—and Jaxson broke his attention from her long enough to glance back and wave, gesturing for Ariella and Arkus to join.
“Okay, so… how is this gonna work?” Zane asked, stopping at the door and turning to his friends. “Is the room even ready for this?”
“Yeah—me and Arkus set up all the equipment after the cleaning and renovating was done,” Jaxson replied with an excited smirk. “And I decorated. You guys are gonna love it.”
Ariella and Arkus approached them, joining their group as Rodney pulled out his keys and unlocked the hidden door.
“Now… listen,” Rodney said, facing them and pressing his back to the door, meeting all of their eyes. “Before we get started on this… I have a few rules. Listen closely. Rule one—it’s my secret room, which means you’re gonna have to deal with me smoking the occasional cigarette. Rule two—you don’t give out any last names, any home addresses, or any of your hangout spots on this podcast, and that includes this psychology classroom. Just to be safe, we all need to maintain a certain level of anonymity on this program. And lastly, rule number three.” His gaze homed onto Zane. “ No playing with my katana .”
Zane smirked and gave him a thumbs-up. “Noted. Sorry.”
Rodney nodded at him, then looked to the others again. “Are we clear?”
“Yup-yup,” Jaxson affirmed, Arkus making a nod and a two-fingered salute.
“Abso-fuckin-lutely,” Tammy said.
Ariella and Zane both nodded in agreement, meeting Rodney’s gaze and waiting for him to unblock the door. Rodney sighed deeply, and he didn’t step aside just yet. He paused, made a thoughtful face, and slowly leaned closer to them.
“One more thing,” he said softly. “One of you needs to tell me what a podcast is.”
Ariella and Zane traded eyes, both of them instantly chuckling. Arkus and Jaxson did the same, and Tammy tilted her head sympathetically at the professor.
“That’s your department,” Arkus declared, patting Jaxson’s back and nudging him forward.
“Okay… a podcast is basically like a radio show,” Jaxson explained to Rodney. “Only it’s prerecorded, it gets uploaded to the internet, it can be as long as we want, and we can edit out all the stuff that we don’t want in the final product. The editing will be my job, since I’m pretty sure I’m the only person here who knows how to do that…”
“Right… okay. I figured it was something like that,” Rodney mumbled. “Just checking…”
“Don’t worry about it. Me and Jax are gonna do most of the talking,” Arkus informed, draping an arm on Jaxson’s shoulder. “We’re gonna give prompts to everyone else, so… you’ll all know when to talk, and none of you have to worry about doing the majority of the dialogue. That’s where me and Jax shine.”
“No fucking shit,” Tammy murmured to Ariella, both of them giggling breathlessly.
“I don’t particularly care about that part… I’m not here to talk,” Rodney told them, finally unblocking the door and opening it. “Just here to babysit.”
“What? No—you have to talk,” Arkus insisted, preparing to follow him into the room. “At least a little bit. You’re the only person here who’s past their twenties, and you’re a professor. A psychology professor. You’re gonna have better insight on this than any of us.”
Rodney suddenly stopped, halting in the doorway and facing Arkus fully.
“This little show of yours is gonna cover some really controversial material,” the professor exhaled, his eyes narrowing intently at him. “If I started running my mouth on the internet—and if Dean Henderson found out I was doing that, from my own classroom, no less—I could very well lose my job.”
“Oh, come on —you’ve got a real katana on your wall!” Arkus protested. “You’ve got a bloody shrunken head on your desk, and you fashioned your closet into a secret lounge where you can smoke in school whenever you want. If they haven’t fired you by now, then they’re damn well not going to.”
There was a pause, and they all stared at him, awaiting a response.
Rodney remained still and quiet for a moment, grasping either side of the doorframe as his thumbnails began to dig into the wood, his eyes fixed on Arkus and his visage somewhat distant.
Zane slowly folded his arms, reading Rodney’s face briefly before breaking the tense silence.
“You guys—he said he doesn’t want any of us using our real names,” Zane pointed out. “And he probably included himself in that. He doesn’t want our listeners to know who he is.”
“Well, yes—but, ideally, I’d rather them not know who any of us are,” Rodney responded. “And I never agreed to be on your show. I only agreed to help you with it.”
“But you’re the psychology professor !” Arkus exclaimed. “If anyone can help us break down the mind of a serial killer— you can.”
“Okay—everybody—listen,” Ariella spoke up, raising her hands and stepping between them. “I think we can remain anonymous enough if we just use our first names—except for Rodney. He’s a professor here, and if the school staff ever hear this podcast, then they might recognize him if he uses his real name. So… we can make up a radio alias for him. That way, he can chime in whenever he wants, but he’s still anonymous.”
“Oh—I can modify his voice a little bit when I’m editing,” Jaxson proposed.
“Well, there we go. Problem solved,” Ariella nodded, turning to Rodney. “Does that work?”
Rodney stared at her for a few seconds, releasing a heavy cloud of breath. After a moment of thought, he gave a reluctant nod. “All right, fine…”
“Good—now let me in,” Jaxson said urgently, squeezing past Rodney. “Just lemme make sure everything’s set up right. I want it to be perfect when you guys see it.”
As Jaxson vanished into the room behind Rodney, the others stood by patiently. Ariella glanced to the side, seeing that Lucy was standing in the corner, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed and her head hanging low. Tammy now stood beside her, whispering to her and stroking her on the arm.
“Can we just call a truce? Please? ” Lucy muttered in a hushed tone, meeting Tammy’s gaze and looking downtrodden. “I just want us to be friends and be happy right now…”
Tammy frowned, exhaling a defeated sigh. “Yeah… okay. Truce.”
Lucy managed a smile, pulling Tammy into a hug. Ariella smirked at them, Arkus trying to peer into the darkened room over Rodney’s shoulder—and Zane, who stood on the other side of the group, glimpsed around and spotted Lucy in the corner, only just realizing that she and Tammy had broken away from the gang, the two girls now locked in a friendly embrace.
“Lucy,” Zane called out.
Lucy wiped her eyes and separated from Tammy.
Zane made a sideways nod, motioning for her to join him. Lucy nodded back, gave Tammy a final smile, and walked over to Zane, returning to his side where she evidently belonged.
Tammy stared at her strangely, then turned to Ariella, but before she could speak—Jaxson called out to all of them.
“It’s ready!” Jaxson yelled. “Come on in!”
Rodney stepped backward and into the room, clearing the doorway for the others. Ariella, Arkus, Tammy, Zane, and Lucy all marched into the room one by one, stopping to observe the transformed interior.
Ariella’s mouth drifted open in awe; the inside of the small room looked like an entirely different place now. The metal shelves had been removed, freeing up much more space, and the table in the center was now a longer, sturdier one. Several tall, craning microphones stood protruding from the center of the table, perched in several positions and aimed toward the chairs, and there was now a computer desk in the corner, complete with a large PC—a desktop with a huge flat screen, a tower tucked beside the desk and glowing various decorative neon colors. The computer’s screen displayed the home page of Jaxson’s personal website, and the walls of the room were covered in new décor—slasher movie posters, purple-glowing black lights, a dry-erase board, and a blue clock that also shone a bright neon cerulean color. All of the new colorful lights seemed vibrant in this dimly-lit interior, and Jaxson now stood at the end of the table, facing the others. He grinned brilliantly, placing a feathered black fedora atop his head and spreading his arms in a presenting sort of way, gesturing to the room around him and looking to his friends for a reaction.
“Are you seriously wearing that hat again?” Tammy snarked. “You’re not in the drama club right now. You’re in the podcast club. You don’t need that.”
Jaxson’s arms dropped, his smile vanishing. “Seriously? I worked my ass off on this room—and you’re talking shit on my hat? ”
“C’mon, Tammy—the hat is his thing,” Arkus smirked. “It’s on the front page of his freakin’ website, for God’s sake. Let him have it.”
“I know the hat is his thing—he wears it in every single YouTube video and every damn drama club presentation,” Tammy snarked with a laugh. “You’d think he’d be sick of the stupid neckbeard hat by now.”
“Hey.” Jaxson leaned on the table, thrusting a finger at her. “My hat is a goddamn genius . It’s the source of my power, and it’s glued to my fucking head. M’kay? All right. Shut up.”
Tammy smiled coyly and flashed a middle finger at him.
“You can flip me off all you want. I love my hat—you don’t like it, you can suck my ass,” Jaxson smirked.
“Jesus Christ, Jax,” Ariella marveled, still gazing around the room in captivation. “This is freaking insane…”
“Oh—that reminds me,” Jaxson grinned again, whipping around and grabbing a small remote. “Look. Watch this—this is my favorite part.”
Jaxson leaned far back over the end of the table, practically sitting on it and aiming the remote at the top of the wall.
Everyone watched as a rectangular sign suddenly illuminated, its rim outlined with tiny orange lights—and in the center, a single phrase was spelled out in red lights, shining a bright crimson and reading GATE KEEPERS.
“What?” Tammy breathed. “How’d you get that? ”
“Custom made,” Jaxson beamed, nodding at Arkus. “Generously funded by the Faulkner family. It’s one-of-a-kind.”
“Oh… that’s awesome !” Lucy smiled.
“It really is,” Ariella agreed.
Everyone took turns complimenting Jaxson’s décor as they moved across the room, claiming their seats around the table making themselves comfortable. Rodney paused at the table’s corner, eyeing one of the long purple lights that shone just at his eye level.
“Black lights,” he uttered, wearing a faint half-smile. “That takes me way back…”
“Microphones hooked up to my new PC—soundproof walls— expensive -ass recording software—and plenty of shit to talk about,” Jaxson beamed, pointing at the professor. “And Rodney—your ashtray’s still on the table, and I got your radio right over here.”
“Good,” Rodney nodded, claiming the chair at the end of the table, his back facing the door.
Jaxson took the opposite chair, sitting at the other end of the table while the others sat in between—Zane and Lucy together on one side, Arkus, Ariella, and Tammy on the other. Ariella chose the seat at the corner, just between Arkus and Rodney. Once everyone was seated, Arkus placed his clipboard on the table, met Jaxson’s gaze, and gave him a definitive nod.
Jaxson returned the nod and stood again, making sure the door was locked, checking his computer, and preparing his recording software. Before he was finished, Ariella thought to voice a question that had been on her mind for a while.
“Jax—how many followers do you actually have?” she wondered. “How many people are gonna hear this podcast?”
“Well…” Jaxson made a thoughtful expression, skimming over his website. “On JaxMax.com , I have around fifty thousand or so… but on the YouTube channel, I have just over a hundred thousand.”
“Hellfire…” Rodney exhaled, running a hand down his face.
“Which one are you uploading the podcast to?” Zane inquired.
“Both,” Jaxson replied. “Most of my followers are used to hearing the old JaxMax Dramacast, which was just me and my drama buddies. Since this podcast will have a whole different cast of people, some of the listeners might opt out of it—but we’re still gonna get a lot of people listening. Thousands.”
“Do any of your listeners actually live in Gates Mill?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah. A lot of listeners go to school here, too. They’re always asking me to put them in my videos,” Jaxson answered. “The word will get out, and it will reach everyone we need it to reach. It’s all good.”
“Aye. We planned to balance the serious stuff with some more lighthearted and entertaining stuff, too,” Arkus told everyone. “But since this is the very first podcast, we’re all gonna have to introduce ourselves a little bit.”
“Yeah—my podcasts are pretty loose with the structure, though,” Jaxson added. “No pressure. Just go with the flow and follow our lead.”
At last, Jaxson hunched over his laptop, hit the space bar on the keyboard, and the recording began. He turned and pointed at Arkus, motioning for him to speak first.
“Hellooo, good people of Gates Mill!” Arkus started off enthusiastically. “Welcome to the first ever Gates Mill Gate Keepers Podcast—and that’s us, by the way, the Gates Mill Gate Keepers! The unprofessional experts on the darker topics of the town—like murder!”
“And that was Arkus—you’re gonna hear a lot of him,” Jaxson told the microphones, strengthening his voice and projecting the way he often did during any kind of performance. “I know you’re all wondering when the next new thing is gonna drag the JaxMax channel into another long series of random content—well, here’s your answer. You all know the JaxMax Dramacast officially ended—so, now, we’re starting a new podcast. You’re gonna hear me and my non-drama-related friends covering some very different topics in here. This is a podcast all about the news, psychology, trivia, and other random knowledge about murder.”
“And we have one particular killer we plan to focus on—someone who’s been at large since fifteen years ago,” Arkus announced. “A mysterious bloke who nobody knows the name of. Folks in Gates Mill call him the Cutthroat Killer.”
“Right. We have a lot to cover—but first, we have a lot more people in this room who haven’t spoken yet,” Jaxson stated, eyeing his friends. “You’re gonna be hearing their voices once a week until further notice. Speak up, guys. Introduce yourselves.”
Jaxson and Arkus glimpsed around the room at the others, waiting for someone to speak. Zane sighed, leaning forward in his seat.
“My name’s Zane—I’m the asshole of the podcast,” Zane disclosed. “I’m here to take up space and make smart-ass comments. Next.”
“Um… I’m Lucy,” Lucy muttered nervously. “I’m not really good at this kind of stuff…”
“And to contrast that tiny little squeaky voice—my name’s Tammy!” Tammy exclaimed loudly. “I’m not afraid of nothing !”
“And my name’s Ari,” Ariella added. “I’ve never been on a podcast before, but I’m totally looking forward to it.”
“One more person,” Arkus said, wheeling around and eyeing Rodney, who was now leaning backward in his chair, somewhat distant from the group as his back rested on the wall. “We got our only real grown-up adult member of the podcast over here—a wise ol’ bastard who doesn’t like to talk. We call him DJ Dangerfield!”
Several of them chuckled, trying to cover their faces and stifle their laughter.
Rodney’s mouth curled into an odd little smile, slowly leaning forward and bringing his chair back to all fours. He didn’t argue with the new nickname, despite that he looked nothing like the real Rodney Dangerfield.
“Yeah. DJ Dangerfield here,” Rodney mumbled in a flat, empty voice. “And I am thoroughly giddy with excitement.”
“Coulda fooled me,” Arkus laughed. “Well, that’s all of us. I reckon we oughta dive right into the conversation—and afterwards, we’ll lay out some possible segments we might add to the podcast, and you folks listening are gonna vote on ‘em.”
“So—for now, we’re just gonna focus on speculating about the Cutthroat Killer, the guy who killed Mary Goldwater fifteen years ago and killed Joseph Wick only weeks ago,” Jaxson said. “Anyone have any input at all? Any loose thoughts, anything that comes to mind?”
“Well…” Tammy began uncertainly. “I’m guessing he wants the victims to suffer a lot. I mean… the way he kills people is just…”
“Bloody, horrific, torturous, inhumane—yes, indeed, good point,” Arkus rambled.
“Maybe he’s just crazy…?” Lucy guessed. “I mean, maybe he doesn’t have a real motive. Maybe he just kills people for the thrill of it.”
“No—think about the murders,” Zane argued. “Mary Goldwater was known by everybody in the community, and then she got killed. And Joseph Wick—he had all the local media focusing on him because of what happened to his son. Then he got killed. Whoever this killer is, he’s making a statement, and he wants people to see when he kills and who he kills.”
“Yes, but why? ” Arkus questioned. “What’s the reason behind that?”
“Maybe it’s a display of power,” Jaxson suggested with a shrug. “Psychos are twisted in the head like that. They like to flaunt all the shit they’re getting away with. It’s like an ego thing.”
They all continued on this tangent, trading ideas and possible motives of the Cutthroat Killer, and this continued for a while. Rodney remained mostly silent throughout the rest of the recording process, and when they ran out of things to talk about, Ariella leaned closer the nearest microphone to deliver a conclusive message.
“Now—if anyone has any information that might help the investigation, please don’t hesitate to leave a comment on the website or send us an email,” she stated.
“Aye—and we need a signoff, too,” Arkus tacked on. “Whoever comes up with the best signoff gets their name mentioned on the next show. And one more thing before we go—here’s a few segments we can do in the future, and you listeners better write in and tell us which one you like the most. Slasher trivia—where we ask questions about real and fictional serial killers in the form of a game show. Slasher roleplaying—which is gonna be like Dungeons and Dragons, only with serial-killer-themed worlds. And, perhaps the most twisted one of all—we play would you rather with slasher scenarios. Also, if you have any ideas for other new segments, please let us know. We’re open to ideas.”
“Yeah… just because this podcast revolves around the current events of serial killers, that doesn’t mean we aren’t willing to make segments that aren’t murder-themed,” Jaxson told the listeners. “We know having too much murder on the mind might not be healthy or entertaining. We’re gonna do our best to balance the serious with the fun, namely because I’m not used to making an all-serious podcast, and I will royally suck ass at it. So—in the meantime, like I always tell you—stay tuned to the JaxMax going-ons, and I’ll seeya later. Bye!”
Jaxson then leaped up from his chair, hit the space bar again, spun around to his friends, and released a big sigh. “ Damn , that was fun…”
“Yeah… your entire career is just you running your mouth and acting like a dumbass,” Tammy said with a snarky smirk. “Not that I’m judging… because most people would find that fun. Including me. I’m jealous.”
Jaxson replied with a twisted, goofy smile, jutting both middle fingers into the air and waving his hands near her face.
“Okay… well, I’m going home,” Zane yawned, reaching his feet and stretching. “Lucy. You staying or going?”
Lucy glimpsed between Zane and Tammy, looking conflicted.
“I told Tammy I’d hang out with her tonight,” she murmured.
Zane stared at her for a split second, then shrugged and headed for the door. “Kay. Seeya.”
Tammy and Lucy both stood as well. On their way to the door, they paused at the corner, turning to Rodney. Tammy was preparing to say goodbye, but she fell silent, eyeing the professor and noticing that he’d fallen asleep in his chair, his head slumped slightly forward and his arms folded over his stomach.
Arkus blinked, narrowing his eyes at them. “How long has he been…?”
“Pretty much the whole time,” Jaxson said. “I just figured we’d let him sleep through this one. He didn’t wanna talk, anyway. We’ll get him to talk more on the next show.”
“Goodnight, sleepy bones,” Tammy giggled, patting Rodney on the shoulder and waltzing out of the room alongside Zane and Lucy.
A stream of light flooded into the dim room once the door was opened. In the moments after Tammy, Lucy, and Zane departed the podcast room, Arkus and Jaxson hovered over the computer, grinning and trading their thoughts excitedly.
Ariella remained in her seat for a moment, releasing a contented cloud of breath and turning to the left, her mind wandering as she watched Rodney sleep. It felt nice to get involved in something aside from work and school, and the podcast went incredibly smoothly, despite her worries before. She thought she’d be nervous when the recording started, but she was surprised at how naturally her voice came to her. Perhaps all her time around Arkus and Jaxson helped her to adopt their outgoing ways.
As she pondered on this, she revealed a smile, glancing over at the desk where Arkus and Jaxson were talking, Jaxson pulling up the browser and revealing his website on the large screen once again. His website was styled black and green, with decorative lines all around the home screen and a brief bio on the homepage. The banner of the website contained a flashy portrait of Jaxson posing with his feathered fedora on, the image of him placed at the corner of the banner and protruding from its box, and the tabs below the banner were labeled HOME, CHAT, UPDATES, PODCAST EPISODES, and MERCH. Ariella watched him navigate the website to the UPDATES page, and he hurriedly began typing a new post. Once he was finished, he hit the POST button, and his newest update was published to the website. The post read:
Greetings! JaxMax here, and we just got done recording our brand new podcast. More information to come soon! You’ll love it, I swear on your life!
Ariella watched the large screen from over Jaxson’s shoulder, raising her brows and feeling impressed. Less than a minute after Jaxson published the update, his post had over a hundred likes and various comments, and the numbers of both were still rising.
“God blind me,” Arkus breathed, gaping at the screen alongside Jaxson. “I have seriously underestimated how famous you are online…”
“Oh, believe me… you’re all gonna be famous soon,” Jaxson remarked. “Once they all get over the loss of the Dramacast members, they’re gonna get addicted to this.”
“So what now?”
“Now… I need to sit here and do my editing thing.”
“How long does that take?”
“A day, at least. I figure we’ll record on Fridays, I’ll spend a day editing, and it’ll be ready to upload by Sunday. Sunday will be when the podcast gets published once a week.”
“Cool, cool.”
Ariella rolled her head to the side, watching Rodney again and smiling at him. The expression on his face was serene, peaceful in a way it never was when he was teaching.
“’Naw… lookit him,” Arkus grinned, leaning on the table beside Ariella and nodding at the professor. “He’s all tuckered out.”
“Yup. He’s adorable,” she agreed. “Old people are so cute when they fall asleep sitting up like that. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”
“I’ll tell him to his face—I don’t care,” Arkus laughed, moving closer to Rodney. “Oy, Dangerfield—rise and shine. ‘Allooo?!”
He snapped his fingers and clapped his hands in front of Rodney’s face. Rodney mumbled something incomprehensible, though he didn’t open his eyes.
“Er… what’re we supposed to do, here?” Arkus muttered, glancing between Ariella and Jaxson. “He’s passed out cold.”
“Just leave him. I’m gonna be here editing for a while, anyway,” Jaxson advised. “I’ll wake him up before I go.”
“Okay.” Arkus shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets and turning to Ariella. “Well… y’wanna hang out? We can go to your place and binge-watch some movies again.”
Ariella blinked, nodding and feeling a spark of nervousness. It wasn’t often that she got the chance to hang out with Arkus alone.
“Yeah. Let’s go,” Ariella smirked. “Seeya, Jax.”
Jaxson hunched over his computer, waving them off without facing them.
Ariella and Arkus wandered out of the podcast room, crossing the classroom and departing the health wing.
After they left, Jaxson remained seated at the desk for a while, opening his video editing program and beginning the editing process. He sat in silence for about twenty minutes, the only sounds being the choppy noises of his editing and the faint snoozing of Rodney across the room.
About half an hour later, Rodney blinked himself awake, rubbing his eyes and slowly straightening up. He glimpsed around, then focused his sleepy gaze onto Jaxson.
“Mm… I’m guessing it went well,” Rodney yawned.
Jaxson peered over his shoulder, smirking and nodding. “Yeah. I got the first fifteen minutes edited down already… and I’m just barely tweaking your audio for anonymity. Nice nap?”
“Mhm… yep,” Rodney mumbled. “Everyone gone…?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm…”
Rodney stroked his chin, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Jaxson returned to his editing, and the professor eyed him from behind.
“I planned on getting all their numbers before they left,” Rodney uttered. “So I can update you all on whatever happens…”
“Whatever happens…?” Jaxson asked, still focused on his computer screen. “Ahm… what do you think is gonna happen…?”
“I don’t know. If someone here tells me there’s a problem with this club, or… if something else happens,” Rodney uttered, glimpsing to the side where the door stood open.
He was just able to see out the nearest window of his classroom, where the sun was now setting and casting a faint orange glow into the building.
Jaxson then spun around in his rolling chair, extending a hand toward Rodney. “Gimme your phone. I’ll put everybody’s numbers in your contacts. They’re not gonna mind.”
Rodney nodded, tearing his eyes from the doorway and handing his phone over to Jaxson. Once he began fidgeting with the phone, Rodney then sighed and pocketed his hands, trying to blink himself fully awake as he slowly stood and wandered out of the room.
He stepped into his classroom, released another heavy breath, and stopped at the window, gazing outside with a deep, thoughtful stare.
Ariella and Arkus arrived at the Callaghan home near sunset, Arkus parking his truck on the curb in front of the house.
Ariella squinted at Arkus’s driver-side window, seeing that he’d parked behind the shrubs that separated her yard from the sidewalk. “You can park in the driveway, y’know.”
Arkus powered the engine off, his hand sliding off the steering wheel. “Mmm… no. No thanks.”
“What? Why?” Ariella asked. “My dad’s not home. He’s been out with Lumis every day.”
“Aye, well… I don’t wanna be parked in his way when he does come home.”
“You could’ve parked closer to the driveway, too.”
“No… no, I’d rather just park where you can’t see my truck from the house.”
“Why?”
Arkus sighed, tilting his head at her and making a troubled expression. “Because your father’s a scary bloke, and I don’t think he likes me.”
“What? Oh… come on… he barely even knows you,” Ariella chuckled. “What makes you think he doesn’t like you?”
“Well… my first impression on him wasn’t… ah… good,” Arkus muttered. “Think about it. The first time he saw me, I was practically butt naked and dragging you around by the hand.”
Ariella paused, leaning back in the passenger seat and pondering on this. “Okay, I… didn’t think about it like that…”
“Yeah… and even though we were in an emergency situation, he still had the time to stop and dog-eye me,” Arkus remarked, breathing out a laugh. “The man’s got ice in his veins.”
“Arkus… he’s not a time bomb,” Ariella assured. “Plus, he’s hardly been home, and we… me and you aren’t even…”
“No, no—I know.” Arkus nodded, turning to face the windshield.
Ariella gulped and peered out her own window, a brief silence falling between the two of them. They avoided one another’s eyes for a few seconds, and then, Ariella managed to face him again.
Arkus turned and met her gaze, running a hand down his face and releasing a faint laugh.
“Y’know what, I…” he paused and cleared his throat, chuckling again. “I never told you, but… last year, when we went to that party at the frat house… me and Zane got peshed .”
“You got what? ” Ariella giggled.
“Peshed. Y’know… wasted, smashed, tanked, drunk as hell,” Arkus snickered. “Anyway, we… he and I… we got so wasted, we ended up having a deep talk, half of which I don’t remember too well. But, ah… there’s one part of that conversation I never forgot.”
“Yeah?” Ariella said curiously.
Arkus released a deep breath, tapping the bottom of the steering wheel and staring out the windshield again.
“He kept bugging me about… you,” Arkus said with some difficulty, evading her eyes.
Ariella’s eyes narrowed. “What…?”
“Yeah, he… he kept asking what the deal was between you and me,” Arkus admitted. “I tried to dodge his questions, but he kept asking ‘em. So… eventually… he said he was gonna make a move on you if I didn’t.”
“ Really …?” Ariella scoffed in astonishment. “Zane likes me…?”
“Eh… well…” Arkus shrugged. “He only admitted it once, when he was plastered… and that was like eight months ago. I dunno if he still likes you now , but he did then.”
Ariella stopped, gnawing her bottom lip and staring down at her lap. Suddenly, she found herself thinking of the odd smile Zane gave her earlier in the day.
“Oh man,” Ariella exhaled. “I had no idea. Fuck, Lucy would hate me if she found out…”
“That might be why he never brought it up,” Arkus suggested. “But, that’s assuming he does still like you… and that he actually gives a damn about her feelings in the equation.”
“Yeah, well… I don’t know about all that,” Ariella sighed. “I don’t know him as well as I know you, so…”
There was another pause, Ariella cradling her arms, Arkus leaning far back and rolling his head to the side, the two of them staring into one another.
Ariella then swallowed, her heart pounding harder the longer she gazed into his translucent brown eyes, his demeanor as cool and aloof as always, slacked back crookedly with one hand dangling lazily off the steering wheel.
After seconds that felt like decades, Ariella finally tore her eyes from his, turning and spotting several blankets rolled up and stuffed behind the driver seat, a pillow squished between the blankets and the rear window.
“What’s with the blankets?” Ariella asked, feeling relieved to change the subject.
“Oh. Ahm…” Arkus glanced back at them, making a face and hesitating. “I’ve just been… camping… a lot.”
Ariella stared at him. “Camping…?”
“Aye… figured I’d better get that outta my system, since summer’s pretty much over,” Arkus told her with a smirk. “So, you wanna just… go inside and watch something?”
“ God , yes,” Ariella laughed breathlessly.
The two of them popped the doors open and stepped out of the truck, heading down the sidewalk and walking up the slightly sloped driveway. Ariella squinted into the garage, seeing that, unsurprisingly, Vance’s car wasn’t here. She then approached her front door, unlocked it, and pushed it open.
The two of them stepped inside and closed the door—and Arkus skidded to a sudden stop.
Vance stood at the end of the hall directly opposite them, leaning on the wall and glaring daggers at them both.
Ariella and Arkus stood rooted to the spot in front of the door, returning his stare, the two of them momentarily lost for words.
“You’re home late,” Vance grunted.
Ariella gulped, quickly assessing her thoughts. “Yeah… I joined a club at school. I’m gonna be late every Friday from now on. Why isn’t your car here?”
“Bill’s car is in the shop, so he borrowed mine,” Vance informed, slowly straightening out and stepping toward them. “And… speaking of Bill… you never answered his text.”
Ariella sighed heavily. “I was busy…”
“And we were, too—but we still found the time to message you,” Vance stated. “Because it was important. You need to answer us—especially when it involves a murderer coming after you.”
“Dad—that guy’s not coming after me,” Ariella insisted. “That’s crazy. There were a million people at Joseph’s party who all saw the same thing I did—”
“No—they saw the aftermath of what you saw,” Vance said flatly, raising his hand. “ You’re the only person who laid eyes on the Cutthroat Killer. That makes you his only witness—which means you need to be careful, and you need to tell me when you plan on coming home late.”
“Don’t do that. I’m an adult—”
“I don’t care. You’re also living under my roof, and you’re living in a town where there’s a killer on the loose. You being in your twenties barely qualifies you for adulthood, and I don’t stop being your father just because you got older.”
The two of them had inched closer to one another, and now, they shared a burning blue glare, Arkus standing awkwardly by the door and watching the tense stare-off.
“Did you read his message?” Vance barked.
“Yeah,” Ariella replied. “He said not to gossip about what I saw… and I’m not the gossiping type, so don’t worry about it.”
“Good—because if you go around telling everyone about the Cutthroat Killer, then he might just notice,” Vance stated. “He apparently notices everything in this town.”
“Well—don’t worry about it, okay?” Ariella reiterated. “I’m not doing anything that would grab his attention—and even if I was, I have a million people with me all the freaking time now. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
Vance glared into her for another long, tense moment, his expression beginning to soften. Then, he released a stressed cloud of breath and marched forward, pulling her into a hug and holding her tightly.
Ariella returned the embrace, flashing a warm smile and resting her head on his collar. “It’s gonna be fine. Quit being paranoid.”
Vance sighed again, placing a hand on the back of her head and saying nothing.
Arkus observed the two of them, his visage now riddled with perturbation. He knew for a fact that Ariella was lying—that she certainly was spreading information about the Cutthroat Killer in the form of a brand new podcast—but he didn’t speak on the matter.
“I just don’t want anything happening to you,” Vance breathed.
“I know… but I’m good, I swear,” Ariella assured, leaning back and giving him a confident smirk. “I’m a freaking jujitsu master, and my best friend is a boxer.”
“Who?” Vance said.
“Him.” Ariella pointed over her shoulder, jabbing her thumb at Arkus. “He’s in the boxing club, and he’s the best guy there. Between me and him, we’re covered.”
Vance’s eyes flickered over to Arkus, whose back was still against the front door, his expression troubled. He quickly shook off his disturbed look and plastered on his usual charming smile, stepping forward and offering his hand.
“Hi… Arkus Faulkner,” Arkus introduced, Vance briefly returning his handshake. “Sorry, we… haven’t really been properly introduced.”
“I’ve met you before,” Vance muttered. “Pleased to see you’re dressed this time.”
“Hah… yeah,” Arkus chuckled. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“You’re really a boxer?” Vance asked. “How good are you? What’s your weight class?”
“I’m the head of the club, actually. Well… one of three,” Arkus grinned. “I’m not in the bigger weight classes, but c’mon… being lean and mean is better than being a great hulking beast of a person. Least it seems that way for me.”
“I can agree with that,” Vance told him, glimpsing at Ariella, then back at him. “Listen… let’s you and I step outside for a second.”
Arkus blinked, looking between him and his daughter reluctantly.
“Come on.” Vance stepped past them and opened the door. “Won’t take long.”
Arkus gave Ariella another hesitant glance before slowly following Vance out of the house.
Vance marched down the sidewalk alongside the building, approaching the garage with Arkus trailing close behind. It was nighttime now, and when they reached the garage, Vance stepped inside the darkened area, leaned on the wall beside his hanging tools, exhaled a long sigh, and met Arkus’s gaze.
Arkus remained blank-faced and nonchalant, merely returning his stare and waiting for him to speak, though he felt a twinge of nervousness in his chest.
“Okay…” Vance scratched the back of his neck. “First off… I need to ask… how close are you and her?”
“We’re not dating,” Arkus answered. “She’s just a good friend.”
“Do you plan on dating her?”
“Uhm… I dunno… I haven’t really… thought about it…”
“Okay, well… listen.” Vance straightened out, his piercing stare deepening. “I don’t usually care for her bringing her boyfriends—or guy friends—to my house when I’m not home. But, she’s not a child… and, this has become… a special situation.”
Arkus narrowed his eyes. “Yeah…?”
“Yes… because Ari is the only known witness to Cutthroat,” Vance said seriously. “She’s the only person who’s actually seen him—not to mention, I’m her father, and I’m working with the lead detective on the Cutthroat Killer case.”
“Okay…”
“The point is, Cutthroat has more than one reason to show interest in my daughter. Bill believes that these motives of his aren’t likely to make him act, but I personally don’t care how likely it is. I only care about taking precautions just in case.”
“Right…”
“So, that’s what I’m doing. Taking precautions.”
“Aye… I getcha. But, just… just out of curiosity,” Arkus uttered, squinting questioningly at him. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Well… like she said… you and your friends are with Ari all the time,” Vance pointed out. “So… basically, I need you to keep an eye on her. Tell me if you notice anyone acting suspiciously around her, or around any of the rest of you. And, ultimately, don’t let her wander off to any isolated places by herself for long periods of time.”
Arkus stared blankly at him for a moment. “You really think Cutthroat would come after her?”
“I don’t know,” Vance said honestly. “But I’d rather be safe.”
“Aye… all right,” Arkus mumbled, fidgeting with his sleeves. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I realize it’s asking a lot of you,” Vance added, slipping his hand into his pocket. “But if you do me this favor… I’d be willing to chip off a little bit of Bill’s investment.”
He pulled out a fifty dollar bill, offering it to him.
Arkus gnawed his lip thoughtfully, staring down at it and feeling torn. In all honesty, he probably needed the cash—especially considering that his father had cut him off just yesterday—but the longer he stared at the money, the more hesitant he felt to take it.
Vance, however, didn’t mind offering the money. Between his savings, Lumis’s payments, and his occasional check from the military, he had no financial worries.
“Ah… y’know what?” Arkus sighed, gently pushing his hand away. “I can’t take that.”
“Why?” Vance asked. “I figure a college kid needs a little extra.”
“Right… but… I dunno,” Arkus shrugged, meeting his eyes again and frowning. “Just doesn’t feel right to me.”
Vance slowly lowered the bill, sliding it back into his pocket and giving Arkus a thorough stare.
“I’m still gonna look after her,” Arkus assured. “I just don’t wanna be paid to.”
“I understand,” Vance replied with a mild nod. “That’s a surprising sense of integrity for someone your age.”
“Aye, well…” Arkus shrugged again, glancing down at his feet. “My father jumps at every chance he gets to make more money. I just… don’t wanna be that way. He’s greedy as hell, and he works with a lot of similarly-minded folks… including a rumored pedophile, but that’s another story altogether. They’re all money-hungry. I just… don’t wanna be that way.”
“That’s a good way to be, but there is a difference between greed and survival,” Vance informed. “You’re gonna need money to…”
Then, it felt as if a switch had been flipped in his mind—and suddenly, Vance zoned out completely, the gears in his mind cranking up a storm as he stared strangely into Arkus for nearly ten seconds straight.
Arkus reeled back slightly, giving him an odd once-over. “Ah… what? What’s a’matter?”
“Your father,” Vance breathed. “He—who is he? And who does he work with?”
“Um… his name’s Angus Faulkner, and he’s the co-owner of Brunelli’s Credit Loan,” Arkus answered. “His co-owner is Moreno Brunelli. My dad only agreed to become his co-owner so he could assume full ownership of the business if Moreno got into any legal trouble for his sick little child-related exploits. It’s all dirty business they run up there… feckin’ revolting…”
“Moreno Brunelli—he’s a pedophile?”
“Aye.”
“How far do the rumors go? How many people know about this guy? Is he high-profile?”
“Oh yeah. He’s the head honcho of the business world in Gates Mill and most of the counties around here. He’s well-known in the city, too.”
“Why is he a rumored pedophile?”
“Because he is a pedophile,” Arkus remarked with a note of disdain in his voice. “Few years back, he went to court because he was apparently raping his nephew all the time. They even had DNA evidence, but somehow, he just got out and walked free. That story was all over the news a few years ago.”
“So… he’s got a lot of attention on him, and he’s a morally corrupt person,” Vance uttered profoundly, staring down the driveway and losing himself to his thoughts. “Joseph had attention on him because he was on the news due to his son’s death. Mary had a lot of attention on her because of her halfway house and her tenants dying… both with a history of… all three of them with a history of…”
Vance then paused, glaring down the driveway and looking considerably more intense than before. Arkus observed him intently, reading his grim visage.
“That’s one of the biggest reasons I hate my father’s little business world,” Arkus mumbled darkly, glancing aside and grimacing. “He keeps trying to rope me into it, but it’s full of money-obsessed backstabbers, and it’s run by a bloody pedophile…”
“All right… all right, here.” Vance reached into his inner pocket, pulling out one of his cards and handing it to Arkus. “Save my number, and call me if anything happens.”
Arkus nodded, staring down at the card and reading over it. The top of the card was decorated with thick red letters that read PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, and the rest of the card contained smaller print of Vance’s contact information, a decorative symbol printed on the corner. The symbol was an eagle perched atop an anchor, a sideways pitchfork, and a firearm. Beneath the symbol were two old English letters bearing Vance’s initials, VC.
“This…” Arkus made a strange face, holding up the card and tilting his head at Vance. “Isn’t this the symbol of the Navy SEALs?”
“Yeah.” Vance nodded, not bothering to explain further. “I need your info, too. Your cell number and your address, just in case. Where are you staying right now? The school?”
“Erm…” Arkus made a face, running his hand over his mouth. “No…”
“Where’s your house, then?”
“I’m not staying there, either…”
“Then where’re you staying?”
Arkus sighed deeply. “In my truck.”
Vance stared at him. “Why?”
“Because… my father’s made it very clear that I’m not welcome at home anymore,” Arkus mumbled. “I told him I didn’t want anything to do with his crooked little business world, so… he cut me off and shut me out.”
Vance hesitated, trying to think of a response, but Arkus quickly shook his head.
“Don’t worry about it—I’ve got friends I can go stay with if need be,” Arkus assured. “Lemme see your phone. I’ll put my number in there.”
Vance nodded and handed his phone to him, allowing him to flip it open and add a new contact.
Arkus made a comment about how old the phone was, but Vance barely heard him, staring down the darkened driveway once again as he pondered on his suspicions.
His first assumption was loose, to say the least—but he couldn’t ignore his gut feeling on the matter. If he was right—if Cutthroat truly was a killer of justice—and if the disgusting news about this Moreno Brunelli person really was spread across large circles of people—then it was entirely possible for the Cutthroat Killer to have heard those rumors.
If a person like Moreno Brunelli became a cutthroat victim—then it would prove Vance’s theory without a doubt.
When Arkus returned his phone to him, he briefly thanked him and pocketed it.
“One more thing,” Vance requested. “This Brunelli guy—what does he look like?”
Arkus perked his brow at him. “Why’re you so interested in that pederast?”
“Reasons,” Vance said shortly. “It’s important, trust me. What does he look like?”
“Ahm… kinda slender, always wearing tacky white suits, and he has greasy blond hair that’s always combed back,” Arkus recalled. “He looks like a greaseball… and I’m not saying that because he’s Italian. He literally looks greasy all the time… I’unno how to explain it. Bloke’s got a big mole on the side of his chin, too.”
“All right… I appreciate the info,” Vance disclosed. “And I appreciate the favor, too.”
“Well… to be honest, I already planned on playing bodyguard for me and my friends,” Arkus replied with a chuckle. “If that killer ever came after us, I’d already planned on fightin’ him off from the get-go.”
Vance’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully at him. “You planned on doing that before you ever knew Ari might be targeted? What made you think the killer might come after your group?”
Arkus’s heart skipped, thinking of the podcast and feeling instantly spotlighted, but he barely managed to maintain his nonchalant expression. “Aye, see… I was sitting right next to Ari when she got that text from your detective friend. That’s when she brought the issue up to me.”
“Ah. Gotcha,” Vance replied. “Well… I don’t want you and your friends to worry too much. I need you to pass this information on to your other friends, but this isn’t a warning of oncoming homicide. This is just a precaution. Bill says it’s not likely to come to anything.”
“Right,” Arkus said. “Just a precaution.”
“Just a precaution,” Vance affirmed. “You can go back inside now… but no hanky-panky in my house, please.”
“Aye… no hanky-panky,” Arkus agreed with a laugh, giving him a lazy salute and wandering back toward the front door.
Vance watched him march alongside the house, and he didn’t turn away until Arkus was inside.
While Arkus joined Ariella on the couch and began watching TV—Vance remained outside, meandering toward his driveway and pulling out his phone again. He dialed Lumis, but the detective didn’t answer. So, he left a voicemail.
“Bill… listen. I just got some interesting new information, and it gives me an idea, but we can’t talk about it over the phone. Feel free to drop by sometime tonight or tomorrow. We need to talk in person. Night.”
Vance flipped his phone shut and stuffed it away, releasing a heavy cloud of breath and gazing into the night sky, the early autumn breeze shifting his overcoat gently by his ankles.
The rest of the evening was peaceful; Ariella and Arkus sat on the couch joking and laughing as they watched TV, and Vance isolated himself in his room, sitting at his desk and reading quietly by his lonesome.
After the noises in the living room died down, Vance stood and marched down the hall, approaching the couch from behind and seeing that Ariella and Arkus had both fallen asleep, Arkus hunched on the far corner of the couch, Ariella lying sprawled over the opposite side.
Vance leaned on the back of the couch and stared down at them silently. He could scarcely believe how much Ariella had grown, both physically and emotionally—and he liked what he’d seen of Arkus so far. Though he and Ariella weren’t dating, Vance smirked at them, thinking it was only a matter of time. Arkus seemed a bit more honest and decent than the average college-aged guy. If Ariella had to date anyone, Vance figured this kid was a good fit. He only hoped that his first impression of the kid was an accurate one.
He reached into his coat, pulled out the fifty dollar bill, and stealthily slid it into the side pocket of Arkus’s leather jacket.
Vance then marched off to bed without a word.