Steve hit the highway so hard the tires screeched, lights flashing across the rooftops as he sped toward Courtney's house. Jaime sat beside him, radio pressed to her ear.
"Unit 4, do we have a squad near Cedar Lake?" she asked.
Static.
Then a voice cut through:
"Negative. All units tied up at the warehouse cleanup."
Steve slammed his fist against the steering wheel. "Damn it!"
He accelerated.
They were still ten minutes out.
Too far.
Too damn far.
"Steve," Jaime said quietly, "Katie is smart. She'll hide. She'll lock herself in a bathroom or—"
Steve shook his head sharply. "No. She'll run."
Jaime blinked. "Why?"
His eyes stayed glued to the road. "Because that's what she watched her brother do his whole life. Protect her by running with her. She learned from him."
Jaime looked down at the open case file on her lap.
"Steve… I need you to hear this," she said softly. "We got Keith's fingerprints. The ones from the hospital, the warehouse… the ones on the tracker paperwork."
Steve didn't respond.
Jaime continued:
"Keith Jones is alive. He's really Jose. Everything checks out."
Steve only nodded. He knew.
He had already accepted that part.
It wasn't the part that frightened him.
What scared him was the pen scribble he kept staring at on the police report. A name written in shaky handwriting—Sue's.
"If something happens to me, look at the father of the girl."
Katie's father?
No—
that didn't fit.
Keith was Katie's real father. He was lying on an operating table, not hunting children in the dark.
No, Sue meant something else.
Someone else.
Then Jaime spoke the words that snapped all the puzzle pieces together.
"Steve… the killer, the one in the cold cases… they all had one thing in common, remember? Someone who was always nearby. Always a 'helper.' Always in the background."
Steve's hands tightened on the wheel.
"Not Ron. Not Ashley. Not John."
Jaime swallowed.
"Someone older. Someone still missing from all our lists."
Steve's eyes widened—not in fear, but in realization so sharp it felt like a blade.
"…The grandfather."
Jaime nodded slowly. "Beth and Matt left town. Jennifer is locked up. John is dead. Ashley and Ron are dead. Keith is in surgery. That leaves only one person who had access to every crime scene. Someone who knew Sue. Someone who knew John. Someone who worked at the garage. Someone who babysat half the kids in the neighborhood."
Steve's throat tightened.
"Katie and Arron's grandfather," he whispered.
Jaime's voice cracked. "Yes."
Steve felt the steering wheel vibrate under his shaking hands.
"That would mean," he said slowly, "that all these years—every murder, every trafficking hit, every disappearance—"
Jaime finished for him.
"—the mastermind was the one person none of us ever looked at."
Steve's pulse hammered in his ears.
"He's smart," Steve muttered. "He used the younger ones—Ron, Ashley, John—to do the dirty work. He kept his hands clean. He planted evidence. He killed Keith's friends. He tortured Sue when she got close. And now—"
Jaime glanced at him, eyes widening.
"—he's going after Katie."
Steve's stomach dropped so fast he nearly swerved off the highway.
"Katie and Mark ran. They're on foot. He's hunting them."
Jaime gripped the dash. "Steve, we need every available unit—"
"We don't have time!" Steve snapped. "That house backs into the woods. He knows the woods. They don't."
Jaime pressed the radio button. "Dispatch, priority alert—suspect pursuing two minors near Cedar Lake. Send every open unit—NOW."
The radio crackled with confirmation.
Steve floored the gas pedal again.
"Katie," he whispered, "hold on."
---
Meanwhile — Katie and Mark
The woods were darker than the house.
Colder.
Every branch felt like a hand grabbing at them.
"Katie—this way!" Mark whispered, pulling her behind a fallen tree.
Katie stumbled, mud covering her jeans. Her lungs burned from running.
"I—I can't—Mark, I can't breathe—"
Mark pulled her close, placing a hand over her mouth just as a beam of light cut between the trees.
A flashlight.
The shadow moved slowly.
Too slowly.
Like the hunter was giving them a head start…
Enjoying it.
"Kaaaaatie…" the voice echoed through the trees.
"Daddy just wants to talk…"
Katie's blood froze.
Daddy.
"My dad is dead," she whispered. "Mark… my dad is dead…"
Mark's eyes widened with horror. "Katie… the voice—"
Another beam of light passed behind them.
The voice became clearer.
"Come out, monkey…"
Katie slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the scream.
Because only two people ever called her Monkey:
Arron.
And her grandfather.
Mark wrapped an arm around her shaking body.
"It's him," Katie whispered, tears falling soundlessly. "Mark… he found us…"
Branches snapped.
Footsteps approached.
Slow.
Calculated.
Confident.
Katie's entire body trembled as her grandfather's silhouette appeared between the trees, his flashlight sweeping methodically across the forest floor.
He stopped.
Lifted his head.
Sniffed the air.
"There you are."
Mark tightened his grip on Katie's hand.
Then—
from deep in the woods behind them—
a distant shout:
"KATIE! MARK! IT'S STEVE!"
Mark's eyes widened.
"He's close," Mark whispered. "We can make it—run!"
They sprinted.
Behind them, the grandfather smiled…
And followed.
---
Back at the Hospital
The doctor rushed out of Keith's room, panic clear on his face.
Courtney jumped up. "What's wrong?!"
"He's waking up—but he's agitated, trying to pull out the tubes."
Arron stirred in his room too, eyes fluttering open.
Both father and son murmured the same words at the same time, unaware of each other:
"He's coming…"
Courtney frowned. "Who?"
Arron's eyes locked onto hers.
"Grandpa."
Courtney's breath caught.
The doctor froze.
And somewhere in the hospital hallway…
A dark figure walked past the window.
Heading toward the exit.
Toward the woods.
---
On the Road
Steve's phone buzzed.
A text.
An unknown number.
He read it once.
Then again.
His knuckles whitened around the wheel.
"Katie is mine.
You're already too late."
Steve whispered, "Not tonight."
He slammed on the gas, the sirens screaming into the darkness.
Toward the woods.
Toward the truth.
Toward the monster pulling every string.