“Ari! Ari …!”
Arkus pulled her away, spinning her around to face him.
“Don’t look at it anymore,” he told her.
Police flew up the driveway one after another, flashes of red and blue illuminating the night. Lumis’s maroon car drove in after them, cops jumping out of their cars and spreading across the property in waves. Vance swiftly holstered his gun once the cops overtook the property.
Ariella stared into Arkus, into his big, luminous eyes. Then, reality soon caught up with her, her stomach churning nauseously, making her feel as if she might vomit.
“Take her over there,” Vance told Arkus, motioning toward their friends. “Stay away from the crime scene, all of you.”
Arkus and Ariella walked away and returned to their friends beside the pickup.
Lumis strolled up to Vance, both of them staring up at the corpses. Many of the police were only just seeing it, uttering a lot of of goddamn s and holy shit s.
“Oh… that’s charming,” Lumis grumbled into his cigar, eyeing the morbid scene above.
“I’ve seen her before,” Vance uttered, his eyes fixated on the larger body. “She was at the Baptist church on Gleason at least twice this week. She and her friends. They were protesting.”
“And now she’s dead on a cross,” Lumis replied. “I’m sure that means something.”
As police flooded the scene and a grave severity took over the atmosphere, Lumis stared up at the corpses—and Vance glanced to the side, watching his daughter in the distance. Ariella was hugging Julian, trying to comfort him while a few of the cops stopped to question the rest of their group. As Vance watched, his expression darkened even more.
“Hey,” Lumis uttered, patting him on the arm and gesturing up to the bodies on the cross. “That guy hanging upside-down… you recognize him?”
Vance upturned his head again, narrowing his eyes at the skinnier of the two corpses. Then, it came to him.
“Another protester,” he mumbled.
“Ye’ap,” Lumis nodded. “One of the MAP’s rights protesters from the main road. I’ve seen that guy almost every day this week, flying signs about how misunderstood Moreno Brunelli was—”
“The hands,” Vance realized, stepping closer and eyeing the corpses closely. “Their hands—the religious protester’s right hand is gone—and the MAP protester’s left hand is gone.”
Lumis blinked, staring upward and realizing the same thing.
“A rightwing extremist and a leftist extremist,” Vance murmured thoughtfully. “Makes perfect sense. He’s making a statement out of both of them.”
“Jesus,” Lumis sighed. “Brunelli’s particular mutilation makes a lot more sense now…”
Vance turned and eyed him.
“Yeah, I… forgot to tell you,” Lumis said grimly. “During the autopsy, it was discovered that Moreno Brunelli’s penis had been severed at the top.”
Vance stared at him, the gears in his mind turning fervently. “An extremist rightwinger lost her right hand—an extremist leftist lost his left hand—and a pedophilic rapist lost his penis.”
“That’s right,” Lumis grimaced up at the cross.
“What about the others?” Vance faced him fully, his brain suddenly primed with new ideas. “Mary Goldwater and Joseph Wick?”
“Well… Mary was missing one of her toes after she was killed,” Lumis answered. “Joseph had a thick sliver of skin missing from his throat, but at the time, I figured that was just an after-effect of that particularly brutal method of execution. Could’ve been intentional, though…”
“The throat—the throat ,” Vance muttered breathlessly, staring up at the bodies and thinking faster than light. “He’d be fine with taking a piece of skin from the throat—because the throat is what enables us to breathe. He took a piece of what enabled Joseph to breathe—which correlates directly to his son’s death of drowning. Mary Goldwater—it was her toe—her toe . He took her toe because she was fleeing the town—because she was running away. You use your feet to run away. It all connects…”
“This is a bit more extreme now,” Lumis remarked. “He jumped from collecting skinflakes to chopping off people’s hands.”
“He wants to be heard,” Vance determined. “He’s acting more drastically now. He wants to be heard and understood, loud and clear.”
The two of them read over the sign displayed above Leader-Woman’s corpse, knowing full well now that the Cutthroat Killer most assuredly intended to abolish the wicked from the world, and that he was, without a doubt, a killer of justice.
They both turned to one another, sharing a long, disturbed stare.
“Vance,” Lumis said, staring past him and surveying Ariella’s group in the distance. “Who found the bodies?”
“Someone named Julian.”
“Good—go get him, and tell him he’s gonna have to come talk to us at the station. Send the rest home right now.”
“What?” Vance shot him a look. “Why? We have half a dozen witnesses here—”
“Including your own daughter , who’s already witnessed a cutthroat killing once before ,” Lumis told him flatly. “You don’t want any suspicion being cast onto Ari, do you?”
Vance gulped, inhaling a slow, troubled breath. “Fuck…”
“Make them go home before someone else tries to take them to the station,” Lumis urged, gently nudging him toward the parking lot. “Go. Hurry up.”
Vance marched over to Ariella and her friends as the police scoured the inside of the church, seeming to find nothing of interest inside, though one of the cops was shining his flashlight over an abandoned extendable ladder beside the building.
“Get in the car,” Vance ordered everyone, jabbing a thumb at the black car parked lopsidedly behind him.
“Um… I don’t think we’re all gonna fit in that car, sir,” Lucy replied timidly.
Vance stared at them, then shifted his attention to Ariella and Arkus. “Fine. You two, get in the car. The rest of you—take the truck. And hurry up, unless you want one of these fuckers accusing you of murder.”
They all exchanged faces, then began climbing into the truck, Arkus handing his keys off to Tammy. Vance placed a hand on Julian’s chest, halting him.
“Are you Julian?” Vance asked. “The detective needs to take you to the station for questioning.”
“Dad, just let him go home,” Ariella protested.
“No, Ari, it’s all right,” Julian muttered. “They need all the information they can get…”
The youth pastor then walked off toward Detective Lumis. Ariella watched him go, noticing that he was still shaking.
“You two,” Vance growled at Ariella and Arkus. “Car. Now.”
Ariella and Arkus grew nervous, swapping worried glimpses.
The three of them climbed into Vance’s car, Ariella and Arkus in the back seats, and Vance drove them away from the crime scene before anyone could stop them.
The ride home was extremely tense and uncomfortably silent, Ariella and Arkus thinking of the murders and replaying the horrendous image of the corpses in their minds.
Vance pulled into his driveway, barely slowing down. He came to an abrupt and almost hazardous stop in the garage, inches from the wall of the house.
“Inside,” he barked, leaving the car and slamming the door shut.
Ariella and Arkus glumly followed him into the house.
Vance shut the front door, locked it, and turned his frustrated glare onto them.
There was a long pause.
Ariella felt totally overwhelmed—from the murders, her worry for Julian, and the stressful expression on her father’s face now. She took in a deep breath, traded wary glances with Arkus, and spoke.
“Are you mad at us?” she uttered.
Vance shook his head at the floor, turned away—and launched his fist into the wall with an echoing BANG.
Ariella jumped, and a picture fell from the wall, shattering on the kitchen floor.
When Vance met her eyes again, she spotted the fury in his eyes clear as day, but his expression was tightening as much as his fists, as if he was trying with all his might to hold it all inside.
“I am mad,” Vance grumbled. “Not at you. Just mad.”
Ariella and Arkus traded another nervous glimpse.
“You…” Vance stepped toward them. “Did you mention anyone else on the podcast? Any of the protesters—or the church?”
“No,” Ariella and Arkus replied in unison.
“We talked about the protesters, but we didn’t name them off or anything,” Ariella said truthfully. “Jax deleted episode 2, just like you wanted—and we haven’t made any slip-ups since then. I swear.”
“Aye… I don’t think this had anything to do with us,” Arkus added.
Vance narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, really? Then why did it happen at your church? Why did it happen during the one night of the week when you all go to Gates Mill Church of God? That’s just a coincidence?”
“I dunno,” Arkus shrugged, making a bizarre face. “How am I s’posed to know?!”
“Have any of you spoken to any of the protesters in town?” Vance inquired, his eyes flickering between Ariella and Arkus. “Or did any of your friends?”
“ No ,” Arkus insisted, growing frustrated. “We didn’t do anything —”
“Oh my God,” Ariella said suddenly, a horrid realization overcoming her, making goosebumps slither up and down her entire being. “He’s watching us.”
Vance and Arkus both stared intensely at her.
Ariella gulped, her heart pounding frightfully, raising her head and meeting their eyes.
“He is,” she exhaled. “He has to be. We ran into those religious protesters on our way to church. I had a fight with that big lady… right before…”
“Before she died,” Arkus muttered dreadfully.
“Cutthroat was watching that whole thing,” Ariella determined. “He used us to pick his next victim… again…”
“Ari, we couldn’t help that,” Arkus assured her. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Not this time.”
“I know, but…” Ariella mumbled softly, pondering on the killer and wondering just how often the psychopath was watching her, feeling utterly rattled and invaded.
“All right… all right, I need to go,” Vance told them. “I need to help Bill tonight. I want you both to stay inside, lock the door, and put the revolver on the coffee table—because I don’t like the way it’s just crammed sideways into your goddamn pocket right now.”
Arkus blinked, patting his side and remembering that the revolver was tucked in his leather jacket’s pocket, though it was completely out of sight. “How’d you—?”
“Stay here ,” Vance ordered, pointing at the couch. “This fucking lunatic is definitely stalking you kids—and there’s no doubt about that now. Which means you need to be inside at night, not sleeping in your damn truck.”
Ariella took back, turning and giving Arkus a questioning look.
“Ari,” Vance said seriously, jabbing a finger at her. “What do you do if there’s a break-in?”
“Gun case, 12-gauge, second one from the left,” Ariella replied swiftly. “Birdshot, buckshot, birdshot, then nothing but buckshot. Loaded, not pumped, ready to go.”
“Good girl.” Vance nodded conclusively, pulling the door open and vanishing into the night.
Ariella and Arkus stared at the front door for several seconds after his departure, a sense of severity lingering in the air.
They met one another’s eyes, Ariella looking deeply troubled, Arkus wearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. Then, Arkus sighed and tried to shake off all the stress, straightening up and raising his brows at her.
“Y’okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Ariella replied. “Kinda shook up, but I’m fine.”
“Aye. Same here…”
They meandered over to the couch, sitting in silence and mulling over the events of the evening.
“Arkus,” Ariella uttered, staring down at her lap distractedly, as a perturbing thought had occurred to her.
“Hm?” Arkus mumbled.
She met his gaze again, her expression more intense than before.
“Dad is gonna want me to stop doing the podcast now,” Ariella figured.
Arkus slowly nodded, giving her a questioning look and waiting for her to continue.
“I need to ask you,” Ariella said. “Do you think we should stop the podcast?”
Arkus leaned back on the couch cushions, sighing and running a hand down his face. “I dunno. Actually, I… I really dunno…”
“Me either,” Ariella replied honestly. “I don’t want to. But… if this guy is stalking us because of the podcast…”
“Aye… it might be safter if we all just stop,” Arkus exhaled.
They both paused for a moment.
Arkus rolled his head to the side, leaning crookedly backward and gazing up at her from his half-laying position. “Tell me… honestly… what do you really wanna do?”
Ariella took a moment to think, his translucent eyes lulling her into a sense of peace, a calm state of mind she hardly thought possible considering the horror they’d witnessed just a short while ago.
“What I really wanna do,” Ariella murmured. “I wanna keep… doing what we’re doing… only more so.”
Arkus narrowed his eyes at her curiously.
“I mean, I… I wanna record the next podcast with an exclusive eye-witness story,” Ariella told him, feeling a spark of excitement at the idea. “I wanna tell everybody what we saw tonight. I wanna keep doing the podcast and up our game.”
Arkus revealed a faint smirk. “Then let’s do that.”
“Yeah, but… if we do that, then we all might end up in more danger later,” Ariella told him. “And I’m not just putting myself in that position… I’d be putting all of you in that position. I can’t make that decision for everybody. That’s not right…”
“Okay… then how ‘bout this.” Arkus straightened up, took a deep breath, and faced her properly. “The next time we’re all together, we can vote on it. Tell them what you just told me, and then we’ll take a vote. If they feel the same way, then they can make the choice themselves, and they can get out while the gettin’s good.”
Ariella nodded in agreement—and just when she opened her mouth to reply, her phone began to ring. She swapped glances with Arkus, pulled out her phone, and stared at the small screen.
Incoming Call From: Rodney
Ariella and Arkus exchanged another odd look. Ariella then answered the call and held the phone to her ear.
“Rodney…?”
“Ariella—what happened?” Rodney’s exasperated voice spoke from the phone. “Where’re you and your friends?”
“Um… we’re fine,” Ariella replied, Arkus making a bewildered face at her. “Tammy took everybody home. I’m at my place with Arkus. How’d you know—?”
“Jaxson texted me,” Rodney informed. “He told me your pastor friend just found two bodies at his church while you were there.”
“Yeah…” Ariella pulled the phone away, hitting the speaker icon on the screen. “Here, I’m putting you on speakerphone. Arkus is here, too.”
“Oy, mate,” Arkus said to the phone. “We’re all good. We’re alive.”
“Good, good,” Rodney replied. “Ariella—where’s your father?”
“He’s fine, too,” Ariella told him. “He left to help Lumis with the mess at the church.”
“Okay… okay,” Rodney said with a heavy sigh of relief.
“You sound super worried,” Ariella remarked.
“Oh… well, pardon the hell out of me,” Rodney griped sarcastically, making Ariella and Arkus both crack a smile. “You two… you need to stick to each other like glue, you hear? And that goes for everybody else in your little misfit mafia, too.”
“Aye, we know,” Arkus assured. “We plan to.”
“And your pastor,” Rodney added. “You need to keep a close eye on him, too.”
Arkus responded with another reassuring remark, but Ariella barely heard him; her mind had suddenly wandered away from the conversation, the dark, frightful recollection of Eddie Grant’s death unwittingly revisiting her mind. She quickly shook it off and sighed.
“Ariella,” Rodney’s voice said intently.
“Yeah?” Ariella replied.
“Be careful ,” Rodney demanded. “I mean it. I was worried something like this might happen, and now all those dominoes are falling. Be, very, careful .”
“I know… we all know,” Ariella told him. “We’re being as careful as possible.”
“You’d better be,” Rodney said. “And I’ll understand if you don’t wanna meet for your recording tomorrow, but—”
“No—actually—we all need to meet up,” Ariella stated. “Including you.”
Rodney paused. “Why’s that?”
“We’re all gonna vote on whether or not we should keep the podcast going,” Ariella informed. “We didn’t wanna make that decision without everyone else, so…”
“Oh, I see. That’s a good idea,” Rodney responded. “All right, then. Well, I guess… I’ll let you go. Stay inside and keep the doors locked.”
“I know, I know…”
“Goodnight, you two.”
“Night.”
Ariella hung up, placing her phone on the coffee table and turning to Arkus, who was giving her a deeply confused stare.
“What?” Ariella asked.
“Why’s he calling you?” Arkus uttered. “Does he always call you up like that?”
“No… not really,” Ariella shrugged. “I mean, he texts me sometimes, but…”
“He texts you?”
“Yeah, but he usually just texts me because he wants me to grab him something from the store. He has me run little errands for him sometimes.”
“Oh… ‘kay…”
They both paused, Arkus still looking somewhat troubled.
Ariella surveyed him. “What’s on your mind…?”
“Well, nothing, it’s just…” Arkus sighed and leaned back again. “He seems really fixated on you, y’know that?”
Ariella stared at him. “Does he?”
“Aye,” Arkus nodded. “I mean, seriously… how many professors his age are regularly ringing up their hot young students? Doesn’t make sense, unless he’s a cradle-robber.”
Ariella barked out a laugh. “Jesus Christ. Don’t put that in my head…”
“Lookit me,” Arkus said, pointing at both his eyes. “I know men. I am men—and men are disgusting . Don’t be surprised if he pulls you aside to confess his undying love to you someday.”
“Shut up …!” Ariella laughed, shoving him away.
“I’m serious!” Arkus exclaimed.
“Arkus,” Ariella said, swiping her bangs aside. “He doesn’t have any family. His wife died three years ago, and the rest of his family died forever ago.”
Arkus’s smile faded. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Ariella affirmed. “Not to mention… have you noticed how talkative he is on the podcast now? He’s totally enjoying it, even if he won’t admit it. I think he’s just attached to us because we’re becoming like a little family to him.”
“Well… fuck,” Arkus exhaled, biting his lip and glancing away. “I didn’t know any of that…”
“And then we crossed paths with a freaking serial killer tonight,” Ariella added on. “So, yeah… it makes sense that he called us. He was worried.”
“He didn’t call us ,” Arkus said, gently planting his finger into her arm. “He called you .”
“Still,” Ariella replied. “My point remains the same, dipshit.”
Arkus chuckled and pushed her head away. Ariella laughed and did the same to him, the two of them snickering and falling silent for a few seconds.
“It feels weird to laugh right now,” Arkus said softly. “Most… most people would spend the night crying their eyes out after what we just saw.”
Ariella crossed her arms and leaned back, relaxing and giving him a shrug. “The more you see it, the more you get numb to it…”
They turned their heads, meeting eyes and staring into one another quietly.
“Have you really been living in your truck?” Ariella asked gingerly.
Arkus let out a heavy sigh, staring upward and hesitating.
“Aye,” he mumbled. “My father… he kicked me out and cut me off. He left me bloody broke and homeless…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ehk… the same reason I didn’t tell anybody else.”
“Which is?”
Arkus gazed into her again, his eyes so deeply profound, Ariella felt her heart skip.
“Before he and I got to be this dysfunctional mess… he was actually a decent guy,” Arkus told her sincerely. “He raised me up to be a man. Y’know… like… someone who can carry their own weight. I didn’t wanna go runnin’ to you guys at the first sign of trouble. I can take a little hardship. I’m not that fragile.”
“Okay… I can respect that,” Ariella told him honestly. “But, seeing as how there’s a freaking serial killer running around… and he might be stalking us… you should probably just stay here.”
“Aye… yeah… I’m seeing that now,” Arkus mumbled at the ceiling. “Plus… ever since he cut me off from the money, I’ve been starving pretty much ‘round the clock. That’s gettin’ old…”
“Well. My dad still gets a livable amout of money from the military… and whatever Lumis pays him,” Ariella said. “We got plenty of food and money here.”
Arkus groaned out a sigh, making a face and sinking deeper into the couch. “Yeah, but… I don’t wanna live off your father.”
“Why not?”
“Because… I’m not gonna make any kinda good impression on him if I’m moochin’ off of him all the time.”
“It’s not mooching—it’s helping. And why do you even need to make an impression on him?”
Arkus turned and met her gaze once more, his expression softening.
Then, he released a breath and turned away. “I dunno…”
Ariella sighed, reaching her feet and marching into the kitchen. Arkus remained in the living room, staring blankly into the darkened TV while Ariella moved about the kitchen, using the sink, then the microwave, then opening the fridge. A few minutes later, she rejoined Arkus on the couch, and a heavenly scent lured him closer, urging him to sit fully upright again.
Ariella carried a fresh bowl of freshly-heated chicken Alfredo and a cold bottled water, holding them both outward and waiting for him to take them.
Arkus stared at them, then at her. “You don’t need to—”
“Hey,” Ariella cut him off, placing the bowl and bottle in his lap. “Shut up.”
Arkus scoffed out a laugh, nodding and falling silent. He lifted the bowl and began slurping up the noodles almost feverishly, not minding the heat and steam. As he filled the void in his gut, Ariella powered on the TV, landing on a comedy channel and staring into the screen absentmindedly, her mind preoccupied with far more serious things.
How strange it was; here she sat, watching television alongside her best friend, calmly, peacefully, as if nothing horrific had transpired.
In all she’d taken on since the end of summer, Ariella couldn’t be bothered by any further notions of fear or grief. She spent so many years being weighed down and tormented by those dark, awful feelings—but now, Ariella was internet famous, and she and her friends had started an entire online movement to get the killer caught. She helped Julian with his work at the church all the time, she helped Rodney with his regular errands, and she intended to help Arkus as much as possible now, whether he asked for it or not. No longer did she shy away from everything she ought to do, and no longer would any wicked, traumatizing sights lament her into an anxious, cowardly standstill.
Strangely—no matter how unnerved she felt about the Cutthroat Killer following her in the shadows, and no matter how vivid her memories were of Joseph Wick and the crucified protesters—she simply didn’t have the energy to cling onto any leftover fear or trauma.
Unlike most people her age, Ariella had long grown past it, long adapted to it, and long since grown numb to it all.
And as she came to this silent realization, she took in a deep breath, giving herself a nod and staring vacantly into the TV, knowing for certain that she’d chosen the right path. In spite of every fright and every danger—Ariella Callaghan was designed for this, and her days of playing the victim role had ended long ago, never to begin again.
So long as she never forgot that, the dominoes could simply fall wherever they may.
The next day was longer than ever, and filled with new stress.
After Detective Garland gave Julian a thorough questioning, the pastor was sent home—and Vance and Lumis sat in their favorite booth in Shamrock the following day, rifling through their notes and choosing their next move while Ariella and her friends attended school.
Contrary to what Ariella had expected, her dream did not contain anything involving the horrid murders at the church—instead, she endured her mysterious childhood dream again, grabbing something, being encompassed by a dark figure, seeing two legs on the floor, and hearing a faint sound in the distance.
Feeling relieved that the murdered protesters hadn’t invaded her dreams, she went about her day normally; she and her friends moved through the routine of their schoolday, though every class felt longer, every pair of eyes seeming to linger on them.
Ariella thought it strange that all the other students were staring at them, whispering among themselves without approaching any of the Gate Keepers. Most of the time, the podcast fans throughout the school wouldn’t hesitate to rush toward them and bombard them with praise and questions—but today, everyone seemed to be keeping their distance, gossiping from afar rather than speaking directly to them.
Eventually, Ariella and her friends arrived in their psychology class. All of them grew tired of the staring during lunch, so they left the mess hall early, arriving in the psychology class before any of the other students.
When they marched inside—Rodney stood from his desk immediately, approaching them with a powerful stride.
“Uh-oh,” Tammy murmured to Lucy. “He looks mad.”
“He probably is if he’s seen the news today,” Zane remarked.
Arkus, Jaxson, and Tammy all shot Zane a questioning look. But before Zane could explain further, the professor rounded on all of them.
“Do you know where your pastor friend is right now?” Rodney breathed, his attention fixed solely onto Ariella.
She took back, her friends trading odd glimpses behind her.
“Um… at home, I guess,” Ariella shrugged. “Or volunteering somewhere. Why?”
“Because he’s your alibi,” Rodney told her firmly. “You were with him all night last night, right? All of you were?”
“Yeah,” Ariella said, her friends nodding in agreement. “We were all together…”
Rodney let out a huge cloud of breath, glimpsing aside and running a hand through his hairs, looking stressed. “Okay… okay, it should be fine, then…”
“What’s going on?” Tammy asked. “Why’re you all freaked out?”
Rodney’s eyes shot over to her. He opened his mouth several times to reply, though he couldn’t seem to find the words. So, he marched away and grabbed the remote from his desk, aiming it up at the wall and hitting the ON button.
His large TV powered on, positioned on the wall over the chalkboard, mounted just above the katana sword. Rodney surfed the channels for a moment until he landed on the local news channel. Then, he lowered the remote and waved them forward, pointing to the TV and motioning for them to listen.
Ariella and her five friends grouped up beside Rodney, all of them gazing up at the TV screen.
The local news was showing footage from yesterday—and Ariella’s heart instantly plummeted into her stomach.
The footage depicted the road where Gates Mill Church of God resided, just at the bottom of the church’s steep driveway; across the street, the fat woman leading the protesters was pointing accusingly across the road, screaming at Julian, who stood opposite her. The footage cut to an altercation abruptly, showing Ariella kicking Leader-Woman over, dragged away by Arkus and Julian shortly after. The footage quickly jumped to Arkus, who mentioned jaxmax.com , then changed again. The camera caught a brief shot of Jaxson, Tammy, Zane, and Lucy just before it cut to the end—when all of them stood protectively in front of Julian.
Then, the footage faded away, returning to the two news anchors inside their cozy studio.
“And later last night—only hours after Karen Mulland faced an assault in the street—she was found dead along with Peter Carver, a protester who was visiting Gates Mill to protest the death of Moreno Brunelli,” the female anchor stated. “Both of them were mutilated in the same manner Joseph Wick was weeks ago—and the tragic deaths of Karen and Peter took place at none other than Gates Mill Church of God, where the original assault took place.”
“ Assault? ” Ariella scoffed angrily. “Holy shit! Are you kidding me?! They’re making it sound like I made this happen—!”
“Shh,” Jaxson waved her down, pressing a finger to his mouth.
“These church attenders—known as the Gate Keepers of Gates Mill—were quick to spring into action against Karen Mulland and her group of Christian activists,” the male anchor reported. “Many of the protesters in town have vacated the streets and left Gates Mill, as it’s become clear that peaceful protesters are no longer welcome in our town. The reign of the Cutthroat Killer steadily grows more concerning, and the death count continues to rise.”
Ariella’s heart began to pound, feeling shocked at seeing herself on TV—and furious that the media was portraying her in such a demonizing light. Her eyes ventured down, only just noticing that the news headline read TWO FOUND DEAD AFTER ASSAULT: CUTTHROAT STRIKES AGAIN.
Rodney powered the TV off, a tense silence befalling as he set the remote down, turning to the others and wearing a dark, serious visage.
Ariella met his eyes, gulping and feeling a bombardment of infuriating feelings. “I didn’t… I swear , I didn’t—”
“I know you didn’t kill her,” Rodney replied gravely. “But you attacked her.”
“They didn’t show everything!” Ariella exclaimed, swatting up at the TV. “They cut out all the stuff she did! She said my father deserved to die, so I pushed her over! That’s all that happened!”
“But that’s not how the media is spinning it,” Rodney told her forwardly. “Because the media doesn’t care what actually happened. It’s called pushing a narrative. They’re certainly jacking up their ratings now, I’m sure…”
“God… no wonder nobody talked to us all day,” Tammy mumbled. “Everybody thinks we killed that fat chick…”
“No… there’s no way people are that stupid,” Jaxson said doubtfully. “Nobody would think that one of us is the Cutthroat Killer.”
“They might now,” Ariella grumbled. “I was the one who saw Joseph Wick die—and now they have me on camera pushing over another Cutthroat victim. I was there for at least two of these deaths. That’s why they’re trying to make it look like it’s my fault.”
“And the police will take notice of that, too,” Rodney said grimly. “Ariella, listen. If you talk to the cops, just tell the truth—and make sure you give them your alibi. Your pastor friend is gonna be your saving grace, here.”
“Oy—we’re all alibis, aren’t we?” Arkus figured. “We were all together around the time them people got killed last night. We can all vouch for each other.”
“Good. Do that,” Rodney said definitively. “I’ll be a character witness if need be, but it really shouldn’t get escalated that far…”
Ariella opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by the sound of the door opening behind her. A group of students arrived, a few more of them entering from the rear door. Rodney gave her a conclusive glance, motioning for her to take a seat, and she reluctantly obliged.
Throughout the entirety of the class, Ariella sat in silence, stewing in her anger and replaying the news broadcast in her mind.
“Jane Cooper, Charlie Hammer, Harley and Alison Hunter… those are our last ones.”
Lumis sat across from Vance in their Shamrock booth, sipping on his coffee and surveying his suspect list, which had a couple more names crossed off now.
“I think you can go ahead and take Jane Cooper off the list, too,” Vance told him, sighing at his own coffee and looking irritated. “She was a high school senior who volunteered at the food bank every week. Being a female and a volunteer, she hardly fits the profile of who we’re looking for. Plus, she was a little kid when Mary was killed.”
“Her parents still have no idea what happened to her,” Lumis reminded him. “She just up and vanished one day. And remember, we are looking for someone who fell off the radar.”
“Yes, but… a little Christian girl who spent her spare time feeding the homeless?” Vance responded. “I really don’t see that panning out.”
Lumis sighed and shrugged. “Well, nobody thought Mary Goldwater was capable of murder, either. She had a flawless reputation, too—but you seem convinced that she was a killer.”
“Yes—but she had motive,” Vance insisted. “Money. Money is a hell of a motivator.”
“So is ideology,” Lumis pointed out. “And if Cutthroat really is a killer of justice, then he probably has a pretty powerful belief system on who deserves to die. So, a devout Christian wouldn’t be entirely out of the realm of possibility.”
“No—but a devout Christian extremist wouldn’t be likely to kill another devout Christian extremist,” Vance stated, tapping his finger on the newspaper’s headline, which read TWO PEACEFUL PROTESTERS FOUND DEAD. “Cutthroat removed the left hand of a liberal extremist and the right hand of a conservative extremist—which implies that he’s got a fairly objective view of both of their belief systems.”
Lumis released a distressed cloud of breath, nodding in agreement and crossing the name Jane Cooper off his suspect list. Then, he pulled out his phone and began surveying it closely.
“Well… that leaves Charlie Hammer and the Hunter couple,” Lumis determined. “And since the Hunter couple has been missing for about eighteen years, I’d say we have it narrowed down.”
“We already checked the last known address of the Hammer family here in town,” Vance grumbled frustratedly, rubbing his head and repeatedly closing his eyes, as his head was aching terribly. “Did you ever figure out where the Hunters’ last residence was?”
“No… aside from the house where the couple disappeared,” Lumis told him. “It’s an old house out in the rural neck of the woods. Been empty forever.”
“Are there any other Hunters in town?”
“Well, yes, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t from the same family. I’ve already checked in with a lot of them, but they never knew Harley or Alison. Can’t really be helped. Hunter is a common last name.”
“Well, we… agh.” Vance paused, hunching over and digging his fingers into his temples.
Lumis squinted at him. “Just take your meds.”
“You want my help or not?” Vance shot back, trying to shake off his migraine. “I can’t take painkillers if you want me on my game. I can’t think straight on them.”
“I get that,” Lumis mumbled thoughtfully. “But you’ve been having a lot more headaches lately. That’s gonna throw you off your game, too.”
“No… I’m fine.” Vance straightened out and met his eyes. “What do we have on Charlie Hammer? Who was he?”
“Well, interesting you should ask.” Lumis held up his phone, displaying a mobile version of the reddit website.
Vance stared at it blankly. “And that is…?”
“That’s what we call Reddit , Vance,” Lumis smirked, withdrawing his phone. “And there are a lot of subreddits where amateurs like to try their hand at cracking legitimate mysteries around the world. Down at the station, we found various Charlie Hammer Facebook accounts, but we haven’t been able to discern which one belongs to our guy—and the police don’t typically take social media sites very seriously, since much of the information can be falsified. But, here on the Gates Mill Gate Keepers subreddit, a handful of people have put a lot of work into listing all the people who have gone missing in Gates Mill, just like I did. Only these people managed to crack which Facebook account was actually his. Watch.”
Lumis clicked on a link on the Reddit forum, which opened up a Facebook page of a man named Charlie Hammer. His hometown was listed as Dallas, and the profile picture was a cartoon image, but Lumis clicked on the photos and quickly scrolled through them until he found the oldest photos on the facebook account. He clicked on one of the images, enlarged it, and held up the phone for Vance to see.
Vance narrowed his eyes at the image on the screen; the picture was of a skinny bearded man with dark hair, making a goofy face and posing beside a girl. The picture was taken at nighttime, and the background contained a wide open field with numerous people on picnic blankets or walking around with glow sticks. In the night sky, fireworks were erupting brightly far behind Charlie Hammer and the mystery girl beside him.
“Recognize that place?” Lumis asked, lowering his phone and wearing a knowing smirk.
“The park,” Vance uttered. “That’s the park south of the suburbs here in Gates Mill—that’s where they hold Boomsday every year.”
“And this picture was taken on Boomsday five years ago,” Lumis disclosed. “You can see the whole celebration going on behind him. He was in Gates Mill five years ago—and maybe long before that. This is the Charlie Hammer we’re looking for.”
“Did you manage to track him down? Is he actually in Dallas?”
“No idea—but he has one family member listed on Facebook. His mother. I did manage to track her down, and I’ve got an address for her, too,” Lumis said, pulling out a small piece of paper with an address written on it, sliding it across the table toward Vance. “You feel like taking a road trip to the city?”
Vance nodded and pocketed the paper. “Sure. But… assuming he’s still in contact with his mother… why was he reported missing?”
“His friends reported him missing,” Lumis answered. “Apparently, he just fell off the face of the planet when he lived in Gates Mill. But if he’s a criminal, then it would make sense for him to just flee the town.”
Vance gave him a deeply thoughtful stare. “Bill—if I actually find this guy in Dallas, do you really think he’s gonna turn out to be the Cutthroat Killer? Cutthroat has been claiming victims in this town left and right for the past couple months. He’d have to drive back and forth between Gates Mill and Dallas on a regular basis just to kill some random Joes.”
“We don’t know enough to say yet,” Lumis told him. “If he’s actually trying to get away with it, then maybe he’s purposefully selecting targets from towns where he doesn’t live anymore. The rest is up for speculation—and it’ll stay that way until you go sniffing around in Dallas.”
“All right,” Vance sighed and nodded. “Why aren’t you coming with me? You got something to follow up on with this new case?”
“No, no… Garland is working the Karen-Peter case,” Lumis replied. “They’re trying to keep me away from this one.”
“Why?”
“Because I work with you, and you’re the witness’s father. I believe… some of them think I might have compromised judgment based on that.”
Vance’s eyes narrowed intensely. “That doesn’t sound right. Hawkins was kissing your ass after you delivered Cutthroat’s motive to him. Why’re they changing it up now?”
Before Lumis could answer, Vance’s phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his overcoat and answered the call.
“Speak.”
“Vance,” the voice of Detective Garland said from the phone. “Am I speaking to Vance Callaghan right now?”
“Ah… yes,” Vance said strangely, giving Lumis an odd glimpse. “Who’s this?”
“Detective Garland from the GMPD—I need to speak with your daughter,” Garland requested. “Do you know where she is right now?”
“She’s at school, why?” Vance responded, now even more confused.
“At the university? Do you have any idea what class she’s in right now?” Garland inquired, ignoring Vance’s questions. “I need to speak with her.”
“Um… this time of day, probably psychology,” Vance told him. “What’s this about?”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Callaghan.”
“Wait—”
Garland hung up, and Vance slowly lowered the phone, glaring down at it as his heart gave an angry jolt.
Lumis surveyed him. “What?”
“I know why they want to push you away from the latest case,” Vance growled, rocketing to his feet. “They’re trying to pin it on my daughter.”
He stormed off, marching out of the pub with haste.
After class ended, Ariella and her friends gathered in the podcast room, seating themselves quietly around the table as Jaxson powered on the neon GATE KEEPERS sign that hovered above the recording area.
Ariella said nothing, merely folding her arms and staring glumly down at the table.
Arkus studied her, then scooted forward and cleared his throat.
“Okay,” Arkus began, trading eyes with everyone around him. “We planned on taking a vote today. After the scary shit that went down last night, we realized that doing this podcast might seriously endanger us in the future. The killer was really close to us last night, and there’s no doubt he’s paying close attention to us now.”
A grim silence followed his words. Rodney sat leaning back in the corner as usual, his arms crossed and his expression serious. Tammy and Lucy traded downtrodden looks, Jaxson and Arkus doing much the same. Zane leaned back casually, his eyes fixed onto Ariella, and his visage unreadable.
“So… basically, if we keep doing this, we’re gonna have to accept the fact that we might end up fighting this guy at some point,” Arkus determined. “We’re gonna have to stay together as often as possible, and we’re gonna have to include Julian in that, too. We’re all gonna have to carry something for protection—a knife, at least—and we’re all gonna have to take every precaution we can possibly think of. That means locking every door we walk into, carrying a weapon everywhere we go, and never going anywhere alone if we can help it.”
Once again, a grim pause followed Arkus’s statement, everyone else in the room swapping intense stares with one another.
Rodney eyed all of them, sighing heavily and leaning fully forward.
“I’m ready to cast my vote,” he told them.
Ariella, Arkus, and everyone else all turned to face him.
Rodney inhaled deeply. “I honestly think—at this point—it would be safer to continue the podcast, not stop it.”
Ariella slowly straightened out in her seat, giving him a surprised stare.
Rodney caught her lingering eyes, then spoke on. “If you all suddenly stop podcasting, you may appear guilty to your listeners—not to mention, if Cutthroat actually does choose to target you later, then whatever happens to you will go far more unnoticed without your audience. You have thousands of people listening to you now—and if anything happens to you, all of those people are gonna know. I think our killer knows that, and that’s precisely why he hasn’t outright acted against anyone here yet. You’re recording your conversations and disclosing information about him on a regular basis. If he acted against you, he would risk incriminating himself—he would risk exposing evidence against himself to the very people who reveal information about him to the masses. If he acted against one of you—then the rest of you would try even harder to bring him down, and your entire audience would be in an uproar against him. He won’t risk that if he has a brain in his head. Having this many eyes and ears on you has become something of a protective shield, if that makes sense.”
“Aye… I getcha,” Arkus agreed. “And beyond that, everything is all screwed up now. Nobody in school can talk to us anymore because our name’s been dragged through the mud. If we quit the podcast, then we’re never gonna get the chance to clear our names to our listeners.”
“Yeah… especially… Ari,” Tammy said reluctantly, glancing at Ariella across the table. “No offense, Ari… but you’re the one they really focused on. The news really made you look like the bad guy.”
“That’s not fair,” Lucy mumbled sadly.
“Yeah—you know what?” Zane sat upright and cracked his neck. “I’m not scared. Not even remotely. I vote we keep doing the podcast.”
“Aye, me too,” Arkus nodded in approval.
“Me too,” Lucy joined in, hugging Zane’s arm.
“Same here,” Tammy decided.
“Abso-fuckin-lutely,” Jaxson smirked, swiftly placing his feathered hat on his head. “The show must go on.”
Arkus grinned, turning to Ariella and expecting to see a pleasant reaction, but Ariella barely managed a smile.
As everyone made themselves comfortable and prepared to record their next podcast episode, Jaxson leaned over his computer, scanning over his online channel as his mouth slowly drifted slightly agape.
“Ho… ly… shit,” Jaxson breathed, gazing into the screen in disbelief.
“What?” Arkus asked, standing and leaning over the computer beside him.
Jaxson tapped the screen, pointing to the number of subscribers on his channel. “I got almost three thousand new subs overnight.”
“ What? ” Arkus exhaled. “How the hell’d that happen?!”
“Probably because of you, Scotty,” Rodney remarked. “You mentioned his website on the news—and his website is linked directly to his channel. Looks like a lot of people aren’t buying into the media’s little character assassination against you all.”
Arkus and Jaxson exchanged a shocked stare, both of them revealing beaming grins.
Ariella smirked, this time wearing a fairly more genuine smile. Truly, she despised how she was depicted as an awful crazy person on the news—but at least one good thing came of the ordeal.
“You guys,” she finally spoke, trying to strengthen her voice. “If we’re gonna keep doing the podcast, then… I wanna tell the whole truth today. I wanna tell everybody exactly what happened yesterday, the whole story with the protesters, and the whole story about Julian finding the bodies. I wanna clear all this shit up so everybody knows what actually happened. Are you guys okay with revealing that much info?”
Everyone nodded and muttered in agreement. Arkus returned to his seat, and Jaxson did the same, leaning over to his computer and hitting the space bar—and once more, yet another recording session began.
Arkus started with yet another charismatic introduction, and Jaxson was quick to join him—but the two of them shifted the focus of the show onto Ariella, allowing her to take the floor and explain the real truth of the local news story.
Ariella took in a massive breath and talked for nearly five minutes straight—explaining every detail of the night, every insult hurled at her by the protester woman, and everything that happened in the aftermath. Once she was finished, she grinned, feeling as if a ten-ton weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
It wasn’t long before the show drifted into the lighter content—everyone was smiling and laughing when Arkus pulled out his homemade cards, preparing to begin yet another game of killer trivia.
Then—a loud series of knocks rattled the door of the podcast room.
Instantly, everyone froze deathly still, eyeing the door and saying nothing.
“Police,” a voice yelled from the other side of the door. “Open up. Now.”
Tammy and Lucy traded frantic looks, Rodney biting his lip and Zane rolling his eyes. Ariella and Arkus turned to each other, and Jaxson stood from his seat, reaching over to his keyboard and preparing to end the recording—
“Wait!” Ariella whisper-yelled, waving at Jaxson. “Leave it alone! Let it keep recording!”
Jaxson stared at her, slowly withdrawing his hand from his computer.
Everyone began to rise from their chairs, staring at the door as a tense anxiety spread throughout the room.
The police knocked again, and Ariella and Rodney approached the door side by side, Ariella inhaling deeply before mustering the nerve to unlock it.
Rodney pushed it open, he and Ariella blinking as the bright light of the classroom and the windows met their eyes.
Inside Rodney’s classroom, just before them—Detective Garland stood in between two police officers in blue, glaring pensively at Ariella.
“Step out here, please,” Garland requested, moving back and waving for Ariella to approach.
“Am I under arrest?” Ariella asked, trying to remain as calm as possible.
Jaxson inched backward, reaching over to his computer and stealthily raising the sensitivity levels of his microphones. Arkus stood in front of his computer, hoping to hide Jaxson’s actions from the view of the police.
Detective Garland was a young and handsome type, perfect blond hair and a caustic face that was nearly as unreadable as Zane’s. He flashed a flattened sort of smile, motioning again for Ariella to exit the podcast room.
“Am I under arrest?” Ariella asked again more clearly, her eyes shifting skeptically between the detective and his two officers.
“Well… we could take you for assault,” Garland replied with a snide smirk. “Or… you could just cooperate.”
Ariella glared angrily at him, her heart hammering nervously. She wanted to argue further, but she couldn’t think of a response.
Then, Rodney stepped closer, seeming to position himself more firmly between Ariella and the detective. The professor scanned Garland up and down.
“I’m sorry… is the victim pressing charges?” Rodney asked.
Garland squinted intently at him. “Beg pardon?”
“The victim of that assault,” Rodney clarified in a voice no one would mistake for a friendly one. “You know… the dead one.”
“Oooh, yeah… you’re really talking out your ass, arentcha?” Zane joined in, leaning out of the doorway and giving Garland a sarcastic little smirk. “How is a dead lady charging her for assault? Hm? Oooh, she’s not , is she?”
“Ariella is still the suspect here—and I have every right to take her in after her actions yesterday,” Garland countered in response.
“That’s not fair! ” Tammy protested, exploding out of the room and rounding on the detective. “She was with us all freaking night! All of us were together—and our pastor was there, too! Call him and ask!”
“Her father drove her and I to their house afterward, too,” Arkus added, stepping out and leering into Garland. “She has more than one alibi for the entirety of the evening. She did not commit any fuckin’ murders .”
Jaxson and Lucy joined in the protests, and soon, everyone was yammering angrily at the detective. Garland grew fed up—and he shook his head and marched past them, grasping Ariella by the wrist and pulling his handcuffs from his belt.
“Hey!” Ariella cried.
“Ariella Callaghan, you’re under arrest,” Garland stated. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in the c—”
“GARLAND.”
An explosive voice echoed terribly across the room—the classroom door slamming open and the doorknob breaking a small hole in the wall. Ariella gulped, Garland and the others wheeling around to see another person storming into the room.
Vance strode across the massive classroom with a powerful march, his expression warped with fury and his hands clenched into tightly coiled fists. He thundered toward Garland and grabbed the detective’s arm—ripping his hand away from Ariella and shoving him back.
For a moment, Vance and Garland glared into each other, Ariella standing behind her father now, she and all her friends watching idly as an awful tension loomed over them.
“Obstruction,” Garland snarled. “Interference, conspiracy, assaulting a police officer…”
“Making an arrest on someone who’s not being charged with anything,” Vance growled through gritted teeth. “You wanna compare notes? Tell me—what are you charging my daughter with?”
Yet another tense silence fell, Vance and Garland locking heated stares, Rodney watching grimly from Ariella’s side, everyone else gathering around her and waiting for Garland to manufacture an answer.
When it became clear he couldn’t, Vance shot him a cold smirk. “That’s exactly what I thought. You don’t have enough to charge her.”
“I have every right to bring her in for questioning. She was filmed attacking one of the two victims only hours before both of the murders,” Garland rumbled. “Do you actually believe that’s a coincidence? ”
“Absolutely—because she has an alibi for every moment of her evening last night,” Vance retorted. “I spoke to Julian Kelsey before you took him into the interrogation room for questioning, and I’m guessing he told you exactly what he told me. He was with Ari and her friends—all—fucking— night . Ari had several alibis established long before you ever barged in here to harass her.”
“Ariella was there for Joseph Wick’s death and for—”
“It doesn’t matter! ” Vance shouted, taking a wide step toward him. “Because there are numerous eyewitness accounts stating that she was nowhere near the victims during their time of death—and Mary Goldwater? Died fifteen years ago? I’m sure Ari was running around slicing people’s throats open as a six-year-old, too.”
“That has nothing to do with this—”
“ It has everything do do with this! ” Vance fumed, his face reddening as he hovered dangerously close to Garland. “They all had sawed fucking throats—all right?! That means they’re all victims of the same damn crime! ”
Another long, terrible pause infected the atmosphere, Vance and Garland glaring into each other, Vance’s chest rising and falling with every furious breath, Ariella watching and feeling shaken as her eyes began to water. Rodney observed the detective and the PI closely with an intense expression, his eyes seeming to fixate on Vance from behind, and Arkus stood closely beside Ariella, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and tightening it firmly. Zane, Tammy, and Lucy all stood in a crooked circle around Ariella now, seeming to form a barrier around her—and Jaxson was still standing inside the podcast room, watching the scene unfold from behind everyone else.
At last, Garland released a defeated cloud of breath, shaking his head and heading for the exit.
“Hey,” Vance called after him, still angrier than ever. He thrust a finger at his daughter, cocking his head at the detective challengingly. “Don’t ever make the mistake of assuming that she doesn’t know her own rights—because I’m her father, and I know every last one.”
“Oh yes. I know.” Garland stopped and shot him a look of disgust over his shoulder. “You have the right to compromise every police investigation in this town—and your daughter has free reign over the town because of it. I get that. Believe me, we all do.”
“Do you?” Vance griped. “Because from where I’m standing, you just tried to arrest her simply because you felt like it. You’re the one in the wrong here—and Hawkins will hear about this. Mark my fucking words, you crooked prick.”
At that, Garland spun around, spreading his arms and laughing dryly. “You’re not a cop, Vance. My word against yours. I’ve got Hawkins wrapped around my fucking finger. So you go right ahead. Try. See what happens.”
Vance continued glaring into him until Detective Garland and his two police officers finally marched out of the room, closing the door behind them and leaving an uncomfortable quietness in the air.
“Well,” Zane broke the silence after what felt like hours. “That was cheerful.”
Vance let out a stressed breath, turning and facing Ariella. Arkus was still planted firmly by her side, his hand clasped onto her, Rodney leaning against the windows with his arms crossed, the others standing around silently.
“Sorry,” Ariella murmured softly.
Vance pulled her into a hug, not bothering to ask or argue. Everyone was quiet again for another minute or so, and then, Ariella straightened up, swallowing and trying to calm the anxiety inside.
Rodney was watching the two of them with rapt focus. Ariella turned to him, glancing between her father and her professor.
“Dad… this is Rodney, my psychology teacher,” Ariella introduced, gesturing between them. “And, Rodney… this is my dad, Vance Callaghan.”
Vance nodded at Rodney and released a calming sigh, glimpsing back at the door and the small hole in the wall beside it. “Yeah… ah… sorry. I’ll pay for that.”
Rodney slowly nodded, giving him a handshake and examining him rather intently.
Vance returned the stare, a sharp pain ambushing him suddenly, making his skull throb. He swallowed an angry groan, wincing and turning away.
“Oh man,” Ariella muttered, spotting his expression. “Are your headaches back again…?”
“Yeah… they’ve been bothering me all day,” Vance told her. “Too much going on…”
“How did you know the cops were coming here?” Arkus asked him.
“Because I told them where to find you,” Vance admitted. “Granted, I didn’t figure out what Garland was planning to do until he hung up on me, but… got here just in time…”
“That was scary,” Lucy mumbled.
“Hey—was all that true?” Tammy asked Vance. “Does Garland really not have the legal right to arrest Ari?”
“Unless he has enough evidence to create a case of the state of Texas against Ariella for the murders of Karen and Peter—no, he doesn’t have the right to pull an arrest out of his ass,” Vance explained. “And I know he doesn’t have that evidence, because that evidence doesn’t exist. But it barely matters. Cops tend to try and pull arrests out of their ass if a suspect doesn’t wanna come in for questioning. I’m the one who’s gonna catch hell for that, not him…”
“Oh yeah?” Jaxson grinned, planting his hat on his head dramatically and gesturing fancifully to the podcast room behind him.
Everyone stared at Jaxson strangely—all except for Ariella, who was wearing the same devilish smile he was.
“Mr. Callaghan, I have that whole thing recorded,” Jaxson informed. “So, if you need any evidence of what Garland just did… we have that now.”
“Oh,” Vance breathed, eyeing the room and cracking a smirk. “Nicely done.”
“Leave it in the podcast, too,” Ariella instructed. “I want everyone to hear what just happened—it’s gonna prove our points even more.”
“Absolutely!” Jaxson agreed. “And I’ll tell ya’ what—I’ll snip out the altercation and make it into its own mp3 file, too. That way, I can message it to all of you in about half an hour or so. You’ll have that evidence on-hand.”
“Do it!” Tammy urged, she and Jaxson both rushing into the podcast room.
Zane turned to Ariella, sighing and wearing a sarcastic expression. “Yeah, this is what the justice system does… makes martyrs out of people who deserve to die, and criminalizes the good guys. Fuckin’a…”
Zane and Lucy marched off and walked out of the room, Ariella staring after the two of them for a moment.
Vance let out a sigh, facing Ariella and Arkus again.
“Well… the precinct is about to undergo hell,” Vance told them. “I need to go meet up with Bill and see if we can clear up the whole mess.”
“Y’want us to go with you?” Arkus offered. “Jax is gonna send us the sound file of the whole ordeal. You’re gonna need that.”
“Yeah. That works,” Vance agreed, nodding and turning to Rodney. “Nice meeting you. Send me a bill for the wall.”
Rodney gave him a nod and a wave.
Ariella and Arkus gave Rodney their goodbyes, then followed Vance toward the exit. Rodney remained silent as the three of them marched off, Vance grinding his teeth as he led them away, his headache disturbing him to no end as he escorted Ariella and Arkus out of the classroom.