Page 72 of Whispers in the Night

“Just doing my part. We all want this guy caught.” Sutton checked his watch. “I’m on until eight, then Morris is taking over the evening patrol.”

They chatted for another minute about shift schedules and coverage areas, then moved on to check in with the undercover team at the market.

They checked in with the farmers market team—two officers posing as shoppers, casually browsing while keeping watch on the crowd. Nothing suspicious so far. Just vendors selling produce and handmade goods, shoppers filling reusable bags, street musicians playing for tips.

“Let’s grab coffee,” Silas suggested, gesturing to a vendor selling espresso drinks. “We’ve been going nonstop since five a.m.”

They got lattes and found a bench with a good view of the market. Harper sipped her drink, watching people flow past. Families with children. Elderly couples holding hands. Young professionals picking up dinner ingredients. Normal life, continuing despite the darkness lurking in the shadows.

“Do you think he knows?” Harper asked. “About the operation? Do you think he’s watching us right now, laughing at our efforts?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s lying low because he knows we’re closing in.” Silas stretched out his long legs. “Either way, we’re doing the right thing. Being proactive instead of reactive.”

Officer Sutton walked past their bench, nodding politely at them. “Agent Sinclair. Detective Kane.”

“Officer,” Harper acknowledged. Up close, Sutton looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes, jaw tight with tension. The case was wearing on everyone.

After the officer moved on, Harper turned to Silas. “How well do you know him?”

“Sutton? Not well. He works patrol, I’m Major Crimes. Our paths don’t cross much except at briefings.” Silas considered. “Seems solid enough. Why?”

Harper shrugged. “Just being thorough. Checking in with everyone.”

She continued scanning the market crowd.

They finished their coffee and headed back to the station. The command center was quieter now, the initial adrenaline of the operation settling into the tedious work of sustained surveillance.

“Anything?” Harper asked Holloway.

“Few more persons of interest flagged, all cleared after background checks. No one who looks like a viable suspect.” Holloway rubbed his eyes. “We’ve got teams rotating out for dinner now. You two should eat something substantial.”

Harper wasn’t hungry, but she knew better than to argue. They grabbed Thai food from the same restaurant they’d eaten at the day before, bringing it back to eat in the conference room while monitoring feeds.

“This is day one,” Silas said, reading her frustration. “We’ve got two more days. Give it time.”

She stabbed a lump of rice, watching it break apart under the fork tines. “Time is what we don’t have. Every hour that passes is an hour he could be planning his next kill.”

“Or an hour closer to us catching him.”

They worked through the evening, watching the feeds as foot traffic slowed. The coffee shop closed at ten p.m. The gym at eleven. The farmers market had packed up hours ago. Only the mobile patrol units remained active, driving through neighborhoods where victims had lived.

At midnight, Holloway called it. “Day shift is done. Night teams take over. Everyone else, go home, get some sleep. Back here at five a.m. for day two.”

Harper didn’t want to leave, but Holloway’s tone left no room for argument. She and Silas gathered their things and headed out into the cool night air.

“Cabin or motel?” Silas asked.

“Cabin. I need space to think.”

The drive through the dark forest was quiet. Harper stared out the window, replaying the day in her mind. All those faces on the monitors. All those potential suspects cleared. Were they missing something? Was the killer one of the people they’d seen and dismissed?

At the cabin, Silas checked the perimeter while Harper changed into comfortable clothes. When she emerged, she found him on the couch, laptop open, reviewing their suspect database.

“You should be resting,” she said.

“So should you,” he said, eyes still fixed on the screen. “But here we both are.” He gestured to the space beside him. “Come here. Help me look at this with fresh eyes.”

Harper curled up next to him, close enough that their shoulders touched. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, could smell his cologne—something woody and clean.