"D.O.D?"
Detective Decker's amazement rose above the tone over the phone.
Julian meticulously revealed this to just Decker for various reasons, he could help with some ideas on how to navigate things but certainly appreciated him for not feeding him with fear.
The note was plainly a mere threat to get him running from this case with his tail between his legs but D.O.D had no idea what they were up against.
"Date of Dead." Detective Decker murmured as though trying not to scare him, "It's the only thing I can sum of." There was a pause at the other end before his rich baritone came through again, "Or maybe I'm wrong."
For a man who was never wrong, Julian chose not to consider his latter words.
Date of Death sounded more like a perfect adjective to describe this faceless and fearless killer.
But he had a face. A face about to be uncovered in a day or two when he received a warrant to go through the footage of the noon.
Just as his team in the office, Decker sounded impressed he'd made his way to the sheriff's team. The sheer smugness stirred up inside of him.
He had a few calls to make before going off to inspect the flat he would be staying in temporarily later that evening. First, he needed to hear from the lab guys, to know what they could gather from the forensics from there on he would know just what to do.
Nate, the burly Hispanic lab attendant handed back the sample alongside the results of the forensic with a dejected face. Julian would have to admit that D.O.D. didn't disappoint. For anyone as smart as this psycho was, he made sure to not leave a trail.
However, he still hoped heavily on the footage from the burger shop. All he needed was a permit, if luck was on his side, this killer would be traced in a day or two.
Totally dissatisfactory, but it was a lead that if followed up by everyone could get them somewhere. Whatever clues he found while interrogating Simon would go a long way to help.
This was a loop-sided case, the end was near, he could see it. He could feel it.
The flat he rented for the four weeks he hoped to spend on this case here in Willow Creek was small but not impossible to live in. If anything, he appreciated the birches and the wonderful untended garden with wild orchids. He was good with gardening, one thing he'd learned earlier in life from his mom.
This little apartment reminded him of what home used to be. He heaved a sigh as he reclined on the porch hoping to get a glimpse of the neighborhood and enjoy the sunset.
This apartment would've been perfect if Shirley's laughter and silly remarks replaced the silence that embraced him. If the wonderful smell of cookies fresh out of the oven lingered in the air. He wanted those moments back.
Those moments were one he couldn't have, not in the face of danger. He couldn't risk having Shirley over in the eerie town that terror dominated. He remembered vividly what the old town used to be like. The calm, friendliness, and spring air filled his memory until a monster emerged.
His family had been lucky to get away from the grasp of terror, but Ethan wasn't that lucky to...
He caught himself, sighed and took another gulp of the vodka in his hand. If ever there was a chance things would go back to the way they used to be. He wanted to trust, the sheriff and the local police were going to return that serenity Willow Creek used to bask in.
His phone buzzed. A text message from an unknown ID.
He tapped on the notification and there on his screen was the long-anticipated message.
'Randal Tower, noon tomorrow.'
Without a doubt, he was certain about what exactly this message was about although it came a little sooner than expected. With the way things were moving on fast lanes, he doubted if he'd be in Willow Creek another week.
Maybe the answers to this case had been staring at him right in the face for so long. If he'd summoned the courage to return earlier than this maybe this would've all been a thing of the past.
He couldn't completely call Simon Bale a compass to this criminal but he knew he was the answer he'd waited all his life for. There was still a great chance of Ethan returning. If one of the ten kids had returned then chances of reuniting with his long-lost pal were great. How could he ever turn his back on this case?
He found the journal he brought along with him the second he unpacked, for the first time in months, he actually considered writing things down but where was he ever going to start? His break up with Shirley? The marveling opportunity to be a part of the sheriff's team?
Or the nagging fear of being sought out by a cold-hearted murderer.
For the first time since he found the note, his palms grew sweaty, his heartbeat accelerated at the thoughts of the retiring sun, the darkness descending the entire town like a thick cloak. The creepy feeling of being watched.
He turned off the lights, and there in the darkness of the small room, he remained still by the window watching the birches with his breath hitched. His gaze scanned the intensifying darkness outside.
Predatory eyes were on his bedroom window it was impossible to not fret. Calling the cops would be a step too boldly to take especially when he wasn't so sure of things.
The wind, the silence, and the calm outside were reassuring but why then was his built-in instinct for danger on the edge?
Instinctively, the thoughts of sharing this concern with Decker grew but he couldn't work him up for nothing. Maybe he was wrong about these feelings. The old fear must've returned alongside him to Willow Creek.
He waited in the dark by the window. If he wasn't watching maybe he would've missed the second the silhouette figure stealthily moved from the birches disappearing into the darkness.
After an hour of waiting without any form of movement in the garden, Julian surmised he was gone. Yet, his guards were still high as the moon.
Did this sick folk suspect he was alert?