“A favor?”
“My father has been through a lot this year. He doesn’t need—”
“Oh, no. You think that I’m going to make sure the FBI doesn’t bother him?”
The waitress arrived with my plate. We both went silent. When she left, Sean glared at me. “I only want you to give me a heads up, if something—”
“No way. I can’t do that.”
“I would do it for you, Haven.”
“My mother wouldn’t be a suspect in a case, and even more I wouldn’t expect you to do something like that. I could get in trouble.”
“It wouldn’t be that bad—”
“It would. My answer is no.”
The glare shifted to anger. “Everyone in Fullbrooke would like my father to be the scapegoat for these girls. Due to what happened years ago, my father is the perfect person for that job. The only problem is, he had nothing to do with these girls going missing.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What happened years ago?”
“Are you fucking with me, Haven?”
“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eyeing me, he trailed his fingers along the top of the beer.
“Sean, what happened?”
He shook his head. “I might as well say it now. I’m sure Agent King already knows or will find out.”
“Find out what?”
“When my father was a kid, there were missing black girls in his town.”
“What town?”
“Colesville.”
“How many girls were missing?”
“Six. They. . .were later found dead.”
A cold shiver ran up my spine. “How were the girls discovered?”
Sean set his beer down and turned away from me. “The men would hang the little girls on trees in their parents’ front yards.”
“The men? Who?” My stomach twisted. “Did your father have something to do with it?”
“No. He was just eight at the time, but. . .” Sean frowned. “My grandfather did and my grand uncle. They served time for it.”
I wore a skeptical expression. “How long were your grandfather and grand uncle in jail?”
“Two years.”
“For kidnapping and killing six girls?”
“Times were different then. And it wasn’t just them. It was their. . .whole group.”
“You mean the Ku Klux Klan?”
“My father isn’t a part of that.”
“No. His group is a watered-down version of the KKK.”
“Listen.” Sean leaned forward. “Regardless of how you feel about my father and his group, they had nothing to do with these murders.”
“Well, if you’re so sure about that, then do you know who kidnapped and kill these little girls?”
“What?” Sean shook his head. “No.”
“If you did know, would you tell me?”
“Of course.”
I sliced a piece of my steak. “Even if it had to do with someone from your side of town or with your father’s group?”
“It doesn’t matter. I want this guy found as much as you do.”
“Unless it’s your father?”
“It isn’t.”
“I hope you’re right.” I ate a piece of steak. It was hard to swallow after hearing the news, but I hadn’t eaten since the flight.
Sean picked his beer back up. “You’ve turned cold.”
“This isn’t about hot or cold. It’s about six black girls dying for no reason at all.” I cut another piece of steak. “And if you think I’m going to give anybody here special treatment because their your parents or anybody else’s family, then you’re wrong. I’m not running this investigation anyway.”
Sean drank more of his beer.
With that, I made a note to look into the old case of the missing black girls in Colesville. The Angel Maker could have been alive during that time or even had a connection to the situation.
Leave it to Sean to bring us clues.
The rest of the dinner went surprisingly light.
Sean shifted the conversation to catching me up on local news. He told me about our classmates and which ones had kids or got married. I eased into the talk, happy to get my mind off the case for a few minutes.
On my left, I spotted Tina and Brett finish their meal and leave. Brett waved at me as he walked out. A little embarrassment hit me, but I pushed it away. Surely, Brett had no idea who I was talking to.
When the waitress came over, Sean pulled out his credit card.
“That’s fine.” I waved him away.
“No. I know the FBI will take care of it, but let me tonight.” He paid for my meal and our drinks.
When it was time to head back to my room, I stopped his journey in the lobby. “I guess I’ll see you again somewhere.”
Sean gestured to the staircase. “I was thinking I could walk you to your room.”
“Yeah. I bet you did think that, but it is a no.”
He frowned. “I just want to make sure you get there fine.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Haven, please let—”
“No, Sean.” I waved goodbye. “But, thank you for dinner.”
“I want to see you again.”
I ignored him and walked off. What else could I say that I hadn’t told him over and over before? Throughout these years, I had wasted enough time and energy on him. The more I thought about it, the more I was disappointed in myself.
Sean and I are finally done. He’s out of my system. There is no way I’m going to let him back in my heart. I don’t care if I’m in town or not.
That being said, I was glad he’d stopped by. I had no idea about the missing girls in Colesville years ago and that his grandfather had been involved. Was Reverend Thompson mimicking or engaging in family tradition?
The earlier Thompsons had hung the black girls on trees so their family could discover them. This was completely different for the Angel Maker’s method. Our Unsub was doing some form of a ritual. For him, the death served a purpose whereas the KKK only wanted to incite fear.
But still, I was certain that the Colesville murders could relate and help us with the Fullbrooke Six.
Please, God. We need to get this guy before he starts kidnapping and killing girls again.
If Alexander and I had it right, this psycho would kidnap a girl on August 15—the Assumption of Mary. We had some time to figure this out, but we could be wrong. What if he grabbed a girl on another day? What if we messed it up?
No. I have to believe that we’re on the right path.
When I headed upstairs and arrived at my door, I considered going over to Alexander’s room. For one, I was excited to tell him about the Colesville case. It could be a huge lead. Second, I enjoyed looking at his face and listening to that sexy voice.
No. I can wait until tomorrow.
I headed inside my room.
The door shut behind me.
Kicking off my shoes, I grabbed the remote control and turned on the TV.
That Colors of Love show that the old police clerk was watching, played on the screen.
What is the big deal with this show?
On the tv, the slave master from earlier was no longer wearing any clothes. He lay next to the naked slave, holding her in his arms. I wasn’t sure if she’d enjoyed it or not. I couldn’t see how she would, but there was no horror on her face.