The Vanishing Eyes (Emily Slate FBI Mystery Thriller Book 11) by Alex Sigmore

Author:Alex Sigmore [Sigmore, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Woods Press, LLC
Published: 2023-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

On the way to Dr. Whiteside’s I call Lowe to get an update. According to him they’ve managed to secure the scene and have already transferred Agent Phillips’s body back to the morgue and Dr. Hansen is already working on the autopsy. I silently curse, hoping we could have kept Agent Phillips’ body away from Hansen until after our backup arrived, but if she was going to tamper with evidence then she’s already had the chance to do it. I don’t mention Zara’s revelation about the blood, however, because I want to keep as much of a lid on this as possible. Whoever our killer is, they want their kills to look like something out of a bad monster movie. I don’t want to show our hand just yet. Lowe is the only other person who knows we’re on the lookout for the van that’s sitting in Whiteside’s garage. And right now, I want to keep it that way.

“Why didn’t you mention it?” Zara asks once I hang up.

“Because I honestly don’t know who to trust,” I tell her. “This van could be the key to telling us who our unsub is. And right now, you’re the only person in this town who is thinking with a clear head. We can’t take any chances until we’re sure of our killer.”

“What, you don’t have a clear head?” she asks.

“I didn’t even think about the blood angle. You caught that because you haven’t been subjected to all this…” I wave my hand dismissively.

“Em, you gotta relax,” she says. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Per usual.”

She’s right. I made a promise to stop doing that. It’s just when you’ve almost been killed it tends to ramp up your emotions and I’m still riding that wave of anxiousness.

When we pull up to Dr. Whiteside’s house, the police tape is still in place and there’s a patrol car sitting nearby, keeping anyone out of the scene. The house is dark; hopefully Mrs. Whiteside has somewhere else she can stay for a while. I know how she feels. Staying in that house after something like this is going to be difficult, if not impossible.

Zara shows the officer her badge as we pull up, informing him we need to take another look at the scene. He waves us on without even getting out of his car and Zara pulls into the driveway, so her car blocks the view of the garage from the road. The garage door is back down and as far as I can tell the scene is quiet.

“I wanna see the scene first,” Zara says. I motion for her to go ahead while I head for the garage. There’s a regular-sized door on the side of the building which is unlocked and provides access. Once inside I flip on the light and find myself staring at the white van, which has been backed into the space so that the nose is facing toward the door. The rest of the garage is

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