I went back to the motel where I stayed. All the way back, I was thinking about the quote. So there was another person involved in the murder.

It was high time I paid a visit to the school, or at least got the list of local kids associated with the two new victims.

Having made an overall plan in my head, I went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to a message from the ghost hunters that this morning they would be busy and that we could meet in the evening once they sorted all their footage.

I looked at my screen with raised eyebrows. There was one reason I could think of that they once again didn't want me around, and that was Rey and the police. Were they asked in for questioning, or was it something else?

But for now, my focus was on the local teens and the girl's friends.

So, to find them, I used the most obvious tool I could. I went on social media. After finding the girl's profile, I started scrolling through it. There were a lot of messages related to the recent passing and mourning. I started reading through the comments and posts to get the overall image.

After about an hour of scrolling and writing down names, I had the picture of who the victims were.

The first thing was the difference in online presence.

For the girl, there was a lot to pick and choose from. Finding people related to Sandra wasn't easy, given the number of posts from family, friends, and other teenagers. I had to scroll through all of them to find pictures and posts from before the whole tragedy, and check for repeated faces to get her closer social circle. And it was still a lot of people.

For the preacher and his son—Peter was the kid's name, as I found out from the news—it was the other way around. The father didn't have any social media, which wasn't a surprise. But Peter also didn't have any, not public ones at least.

If he had some account hidden from his parents, or if it was his own decision, I didn't know. However, judging by the short meeting with his father, I was leaning heavily toward the "not permitted to have an account" theory.

But the most interesting part was the statements about the upcoming celebration. As with the town celebrating its founding, there was considerable discussion on whether it was even appropriate to hold the festival.

Some said they should move it to after the time of mourning. Others argued that, while tragic, one tragedy shouldn't affect the whole town, or that postponing or canceling the celebration would be letting the killer win. And then, finally, there was the third group that cared most about the perpetrator, saying that the person was still at large and could strike at any minute.

It was finally the girl's mother who spoke up and settled the discussion with a post on her social media.

Friends and neighbors,

I don't have the right words yet, but I want to say thank you. For every hand squeezed and every warm message, our family has felt held by this town. You have wrapped us in more kindness than we knew possible.

I've been asked about Founders Day tomorrow. Please don't cancel it on our account.

My girl was not a quiet soul. She loved the lights and the music of the festival. She would never want her leaving to still the heart of this place. Founders Day belongs to all of us.

For anyone who wishes to mourn together, we've moved the candlelight vigil to tonight so that tomorrow you can celebrate in peace. We'll gather this evening at 7:00 p.m. on the high school steps. Bring a candle and a memory.

Hold your people close.

This seemed to settle the case. The festival would still be on, and the mourning would be done this evening. It was a smart move.

Well, it looked like I didn't need to try to infiltrate the high school. All the persons of interest would be gathered tonight at the vigil. I just needed to know who to look for. What I could really use was the list of witnesses to the overdoses. If any of them overlapped with people from Sandra's social media, I was sure I would have something substantial.

But for that, I needed the ghost hunter's police information. I considered calling them, but then decided on trying to get them by surprise at the police station, assuming that was the reason we didn't meet.

So I got in my car and made my way to the station. And sure enough, I recognized the two cars parked in front. I considered trying to enter, but getting involved with the police after the threat they got from "my lawyer" might be a bad idea. If I blocked information for my favorite clowns, then that would be shooting myself in the foot.

So I waited around their cars.

It took around an hour before I saw the doors open and two familiar faces walk out. I was about to approach them, but then noticed they were discussing something, with Cecil being clearly excited and Rey pissed off.

Instead of greeting them, I quickly dived between cars and cast Muffle around myself.

The two were making their way toward me as I crouched and walked around the vehicle, keeping it between us.

I could hear them as they got closer. Although it wasn't much of a conversation right now. It was more of Cecil vomiting words at Rey, saying how well things were going, that the killer was still around, so they had to hurry and crack the case.

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Once the two made their way between the cars, Rey finally stopped the verbal diarrhea.

"This is not what I signed up for!" he snapped at the babbling man.

"Relax, it's going great! The killer's still out there. We just have to be the ones to crack it!"

"Do you hear yourself? If outside authorities get involved, my career is over. Do you know what it looks like? A cop sneaking around for a fucking ghost hunter show?"

"Oh, come on, you can join our team!"

"No!" he barked so loudly that he had to glance around to make sure no one heard.

I was sitting behind the car on the other side, extending my senses to the two men.

After confirming no one heard his outburst, Rey continued. "Some of us have families. Responsibilities. Now the locals want me to help with the investigation because of you."

"Then say no."

"If I say no, they'll send in a real detective. Then everyone'll be asking why a cop on vacation is hanging around three murder scenes."

"Then say yes," Cecil answered as if it were obvious.

"You fucking… agh!"

I thought Rey would deck him in the face, but the man stopped himself. I was in awe of his self-control.

"It's not that simple. I don't want my name anywhere near this case. And you dragged me into it."

"If it blows up, just join us. We'll be famous. We'll pay your salary. A cop and an exorcist. Sounds like some good TV."

"…Exorcist?" Rey's voice dropped.

"Yeah. I have to say it's hard to get him to talk, but the guy knows his Latin, eh? It should sound good on the camera with the changed voice."

"Stay away from that guy," Rey barked.

"Why do you dislike him so much?" Cecil asked, curious.

"Didn't you see him being carried out by the police from the crime scene?"

"Heeey, but they said it was a false arrest when you asked, so what's the problem?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Cecil. The guy's shady. He's always a step ahead, always where he shouldn't be… Look, yesterday I got in his face, and he didn't even twitch. No flinch, no defense. That's not an exorcist. That's someone who's used to violence."

"Oh? Maybe we should follow him."

"Don't! Look, Cecil, he's dangerous. I've been around killers, gang members, and real monsters. They've got a look in their eyes, and so does he. And he gives me the fucking creeps like no other."

"Oh, don't be like that," I said, approaching from the side.

Rey jumped instinctively, going for his gun. Cecil also jumped, but then smiled at me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Rey asked.

"Well, you didn't want me around, all secret. It wasn't hard to figure out where you went," I said as I shrugged.

"What's it to you?"

I ignored him and looked at Cecil.

"I think you've got inside police info. I've got info too. Why not scratch each other's backs?"

"Trust you with any information, after you were listening in like some rat?" Rey said before Cecil could even open his mouth.

"Trust the information. I'm guessing the mother and the preacher's wife were questioned. I'm guessing you know about the writing on the wall."

Rey just looked at me, his poker face not betraying any info. But sadly for the guy, right next to him was Cecil, who eagerly nodded his head to my words.

"So," I continued my reasoning, "you think the preacher's boy did it, right?"

"Yes," Cecil eagerly confirmed, receiving a pissed-off look from Rey.

"Let's say I have evidence suggesting otherwise. My info for yours. It's a fair trade in my books."

"Sounds—" Cecil started.

"If you're withholding evidence, that's a crime. You'd better report it."

I looked at him with deep confusion on my face. "What evidence? I don't remember saying I had any. Must've been a slip of the tongue, officer."

Rey's facial muscles flexed. He took a step forward in my direction, but Cecil stopped him.

"We agree," he said, and turned to his friend. "We should do it. We crack this faster, it goes away faster."

Rey didn't like it, clearly, but finally agreed to the plan.

After that, we waited for the rest who were delegated to record around the police station for some investigation shots, whatever those were.

We drove to the investigation headquarters at Victor's house. I told them about the footsteps of the perpetrator that I followed into the forest, as well as the quote's origin, and, of course, some bullshit about demons using it to mock God's faithful. After that, I offered Cecil the chance to be the one on the recording who figured it out. The man jumped at the chance.

In turn, I received police reports. I didn't learn anything about the bodies that weren't in the doctor's report, but I learned who was on the spot when the bodies were found and who called it in. This considerably shortened my list of people to question. After that, the plan was to attend the candlelight vigil.

They also gathered some information from the questioning of the preacher's widow, but she was still in shock. As a result, all they could gather from her and the neighbors was that the father–son relationship was strained. The boy apparently ran from home a couple of times, returning or being brought back by the police.

After we talked, it was time to wait for the vigil to come.

I was getting excited. I would hopefully finally get some proper answers about the guilt and what really happened. Everything was set.

I spent the time going over mysteries of the soul, trying to figure out the mutations.

We all worked on our theories while Liz and Mercy worked on editing their footage from yesterday's crime scene. Apparently, someone at the school meeting got a call about the murder, and they ran there as soon as possible.

I wasn't getting anywhere with my mutation theory, so instead I looked over Mercy's shoulder, hoping to find something of interest.

But they got to yesterday's crime scene after me, so I wasn't expecting to find anything substantial.

Or so I thought.

"Stop," I said all of a sudden.

Mercy jumped as I shouted over her shoulder.

"What is it?" Cecil asked, interested.

I looked at the screen with a frown on my face.

"Nothing," I finally said slowly, getting a good look at what surprised me. "I thought I saw something, but it was just a shadow."

I met Rey's distrustful eyes as I closed mine.

The footage stopped on a scene showing all the police cars around, as they were trying to get a shot through the windows into the crime scene. And as they did, the camera caught bushes next to the broken window and something in them.

I recognized that grey tail.

Looks like Mr. Cuddles wasn't as retired as he said he was.

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