Page 105 of When the Smoke Clears

“Anything else?” I force the words out.

“Yes. You asked us to run the red rock for DNA. There wasn’t enough DNA to test, but the partial print on the stone hit in the system. It matches an unknown offender whose prints have shown up at multiple homicide scenes in other states. No ID, just a profile.”

The oxygen is sucked out of the room, and my heart drums so hard the room spins. Whose is it?

I rock back on my heels and thread my hand through my hair. From the couch, Isla looks on with wide-eyed concern.

We may have a killer in Wildhaven. How did he slip into our quiet town? The thought alone is enough to break me in half.

“Luke? You still there?”

“Yeah,” I say with a shake of my head. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you calling in favors at the lab to get me results this fast.”

“Wish I had more,” he replies. “Sorry.”

“Me too.” I hang up and set the phone on the piles of folders growing on my dining room table, and turn to Isla.

“What is it?”

I take a slow breath. “The guy who was near the scene of your near hit-and-run—and who may have been in my parents' home—looks like a professional hitman.”

Her hand flies to her mouth. “That’s…that’s the same man who might’ve killed my mom?”

I swallow. “Possibly. We don’t know his name. We only have fingerprints and the crimes he’s linked to.”

I pick up the phone again. “I’m calling Gabe to see what his connections can dig up.”

Isla nods but remains silent. The room closes in, the darkness pressing around us despite the lights, and for the first time since this all began, I worry that this case might be too big for us to solve.

I dial Gabe’s number, my fingers tapping impatiently against the phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. Frustrated, I hang up and quickly type out a message.

LUKE: CALL ME. IT’S URGENT.

Then I redial it, foolishly expecting a different outcome. I glance at Isla, who stands across from me, her eyebrows raised, and her shoulders lifted. Her blue eyes search mine for answers. “Now what?”

I don’t want to burden her with the weight of this temporary defeat, but I’m not going to lie to her, either.

“I’m not sure. Hopefully, Gabe’s contacts can dig something up for us. We’ll revisit everything with fresh eyes in the morning, start from scratch, and maybe then things will make more sense.”

“So, we just wait?” Her voice is tinged with impatience and resignation. Wait. It’s the theme of the day.

“Sometimes that’s all you can do in an investigation.” I exhale. “You keep working with what you have and wait for something to break. I’m really sorry, Isla. I know this is really frustrating for you.”

“It is frustrating.” She takes a deep breath, steadying her voice. “And scary. But I feel safe here with you. Safer than I’ve felt in years.”

Her words sink in deeper than I want to admit, because I don’t believe in myself right now, not as a sheriff, not as a son. But Isla’s faith is like oxygen, pulling me back from the edge.

Maybe I can borrow her belief until I find my own again. I pull her into my embrace, cherishing the warmth of her body against mine.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she echoes, her arms tightening around me like a safety net.

She gazes up at me, and a soft smile lifts the corners of her lips. “How about I give you a sponge bath?”

I lean back slightly, meeting her gaze. Just as I’m about to nod in agreement, the front door swings open with a creak, and Gabe strolls in, his hair tousled and his shirt untucked.

My brows draw together. “Where were you? I called twice.”