If Julia had been lying to Silas, then what was the purpose behind everything she'd said to him?
Was she trying to pass along some kind of message?
I was still turning it over in my mind, getting nowhere, when my phone rang.
It was Captain Theodore Finch, the lead detective on the task force.
He got straight to the point the moment I picked up, his tone grave.
"Mrs. Henson, someone anonymously sent us a secretly recorded video from the night your daughter was killed."
The news hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
Silas, standing close enough to hear, went wide-eyed. He lunged toward the phone, voice charged with urgency.
"Captain Finch, are you serious?"
"I am," Finch replied, all business.
"Can you both come down to the task force office now?"
We nodded at the same time and scrambled to answer.
"Yes, yes. We'll be right there!"
The second I hung up, Silas rushed me to the car and drove straight to the task force headquarters.
The whole way there, his hands trembled on the steering wheel. He had the gas pedal floored.
He clearly wanted the killer found yesterday.
We arrived quickly.
Captain Finch was already waiting in the conference room, a laptop open on the table in front of him.
When he saw us walk in, he didn't waste a breath.
"Our forensic tech team just finished authenticating the footage. The entire video is clean. No tampering whatsoever."
"I need you both to watch carefully and tell me if you recognize the person in it."
He clicked play.
Because it was nighttime, in an alley with no streetlights, the footage was dark. But I could make out the location clearly enough. It was the place where my daughter had been killed.
In the frame, Julia walked slowly through the rain, her pregnant belly heavy beneath her umbrella.
Two seconds later, a man appeared behind her. Black hoodie. Baseball cap pulled low. Mask covering his face.
He trailed her at a distance of about ten feet.
Between the mask and the cap, his features were impossible to make out, but his build was visible. Short. Thin.
And he walked with a limp.
A few seconds later, Julia turned into the alley.
The man paused at the entrance for two or three beats, glanced left and right, then followed her in.
The video ended there.
Finch froze the frame and zoomed in on the figure.
"This man. Do either of you recognize him?"
I stared at the screen for a long time.
Then shook my head. "No."
Silas's expression was grim.
"I've never seen him either."
Finch played the video again, this time slowing the playback speed. He walked us through it frame by frame.
"Based on the timeline and the conditions at the scene, the victim was killed shortly after entering the alley."
"This man is very likely our primary suspect."
The thought that this could be the person who murdered and dismembered my daughter set a fire burning in my chest.
My eyes locked on the screen, desperate to catch even the smallest detail.
But he had clearly come prepared. Every inch of him was covered. Only his eyes were exposed.
I didn't know why, but something about those eyes felt familiar.
I just couldn't place where I'd seen them before.
Finch played the video for us over a dozen times.
No matter how many times we watched, neither of us could identify anyone who matched.
The conference room fell quiet for a long stretch.
Finally, I turned to Captain Finch.
