Ivy Pane Suspense Thriller 01-Broken Life by Rise Laura

Author:Rise, Laura [Rise, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, American Suspense, Police Procedural, Crime Thriller, Murder Investigation, FBI
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2024-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ivy's boots thudded against the slick pavement, her breath clouding in the frigid air as she and Sean approached the station’s front entrance. The taunting message left by the killer had turned the investigation on its head and now awaited dissection. Ivy’s heart hammered in sync with her footsteps, frustration and adrenaline fueling her stride.

The precinct doors flew open at their urgent push, the familiar scent of stale coffee and worn leather greeting them. In the bullpen, Sheriff Bennett stood like a sentinel, his steely gaze locked onto the ominous envelope that lay before him on the worn surface of Sean’s desk.

"Got your cryptic invite, Sheriff," Ivy said, her voice tight as she tried to control the tremor of urgency lacing her words. She eyed the envelope, an unspoken dread settling over her.

Bennett nodded solemnly, pushing the envelope toward her. “Figured you'd want to see it yourself,” he said, his voice edged with the weight of the situation.

As Ivy reached for the message, her fingers brushed the thick paper and a shiver of foreboding traced her spine. She tore it open, spreading out the contents under the harsh fluorescent lights for all eyes to dissect. Her mind, sharp as a scalpel, began to carve through the layers of inked threats.

As above, so below. You walk through a world of labyrinthine confusion, as do I — though in my world, things are far simpler. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. I seek comfort. I exact punishment. To stop me is to stop true justice.

"Look at this phrasing here," Sean said, pointing to a particularly jarring sentence — blessed are those who mourn. "Could be biblical?"

"Or historical," Ivy countered, her analytical mind combing through her mental database of references. She leaned in closer, scrutinizing every letter as if they were pieces of a shattered mirror she needed to reassemble to glimpse the face of the killer.

"Forensics. I want prints, fibers, anything off this paper," she commanded without shifting her gaze from the haunting words.

The team sprang into action, dusting and swabbing with meticulous care, while Ivy remained anchored to the message. Each word was a potential clue, each phrase a window into the psyche of the murderer who haunted them.

"Anything out of place, any detail that doesn't fit the pattern we know, I want it flagged," Ivy instructed, her voice betraying no sign of fatigue, only resolute determination.

"Could the change in tone suggest he's feeling cornered?" Sean mused aloud.

"Or it's a ruse to throw us off," Ivy replied, her mind racing to keep up with the twisted intricacies of the killer's mind games. Every minor detail held significance; every stroke of ink was a deliberate choice made by the killer, a breadcrumb meant to lead or mislead.

"Let's not rule out any possibilities," Sheriff Bennett interjected.

Ivy felt a brief swell of gratitude for Bennett's support, quickly suppressed under the weight of desperation clawing at the edges of her concentration. Whoever this killer was, he was intelligent, methodical, and worst of all, still steps ahead.

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