Black Heart by Morgan Greene

Author:Morgan Greene [Greene, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Jamie stepped into the afternoon sun, feeling it warm on her face.

She didn’t expect Thorsen to follow her, so she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t. But she was a little disappointed. She wasn’t so broken she couldn’t admit that to herself.

But it didn’t matter. It was just a matter of time until this happened. Until they split. Until he grew bored, unhappy. Until she was alone again.

But that’s how she functioned best. It was exhausting being with someone else, and she wasn’t even with him.

What had happened in his room last night – that was proof enough. He didn’t really want her. He’d seen her baggage, had lived with her, had experienced enough that the hesitation was clear. He’d alluded to wanting her, but he didn’t, not really. Whether he thought he did, had convinced himself he did, that he was the one for her, the one to save her … when it came down to it. He wasn’t. In truth, no one was. Jamie didn’t need saving, or changing. She was who she was. And she knew, deep down, no one would ever want to be with her. Not truly.

Except, maybe Elliot. But he was even more fucked up than she was.

Jesus, were those her only options? Grow old alone or shack up with a serial killer? What a life.

Her cab pulled up to the curb and she climbed in.

‘Vart vill du gå?’ Where do you want to go?

Jamie hesitated, shaking off the last dregs of uncertainty.

She gave the address of the first victim and the driver explained it was a long drive. Her face seemed to give him the answer he needed, and with a sigh, he set off.

Jamie resigned herself to thinking, to focusing on the case. She had her satchel with her, and she’d used the printer in the hotel’s business centre to print off a few choice things. Photographs of the room of the first victim – bookshelf in particular, desk, too.

Unfortunately, no copy of Hamlet. The desk, as well, was clear. No carvings or etchings.

The victim was male, too. Sixteen years old. Matteo Franssen. He was in secondary school, his final year. Popular enough by all accounts. A good sportsman, smart. He wanted to go to the mainland to study for university. A normal kid. With no real interest in books or literature. None that would fit the pattern Juni exhibited. Though Jamie wasn’t even sure if that was the pattern that linked them.

It was one of the major holes in the investigation so far: what linked the victims? They seemed to pop up so randomly, and even within the university, they’d seemingly been chosen with no mind to who the victims were. There was no clear victim-type emerging other than the age range. Nothing to help the police predict the next move.

Nothing that they noticed, at least.

Juni Pedersen’s obsession with Hamlet didn’t seem coincidental. It just didn’t. There was something at work there, some theme at play. Was her interest in that just

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