Sun Broken (The Wild Hunt #11) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,18

Kearney and this is Viktor Krason. We’re with the Wild Hunt.”

“I talked to you on the phone,” Viktor added.

She pressed her lips together, then finally sighed. “I’m not sure what help I can be, but if there’s anything I can do to catch…to find…” She stopped, a stricken look on her face. “I can’t say the words. I just can’t say the words.”

“I understand. We’ll try to be as quick as we can and if you need to stop at any time, just let us know,” I said, opening my pack. I pulled out my tablet, and as I noticed her reaching for her napkin to dry her eyes, I brought out a small box of tissues I carried with me. I held it out and she took one, a grateful smile on her face. I set the box down next to her and returned my attention to my tablet.

“When did you notice that Chaya was missing?” I asked.

“Two days before her body was found. So…she was found a week ago Tuesday, that would have to be the Sunday before.” Isolde stopped, counting on her fingers. “That’s right, it was that Sunday. She went out for a morning run—she always liked going out early. When she didn’t show up for lunch, I thought maybe she had stopped somewhere on the way home for a bite to eat, or to talk to one of the neighbors. At one, I called her, but there was no answer. By three, I still couldn’t get hold of her so I checked the Find Friends app and it said she was in Maritone Park—a small neighborhood park about four blocks away. I drove down there and found her phone on a bench. That’s when I called the cops.”

“What did they say?” Viktor asked.

“They said maybe she took a break and forgot her phone.” Isolde shook her head fiercely. “I argued with them. A morning jog wouldn’t last that long, and Chaya was glued to her phone. She never went anywhere without it. They took a report and said they’d keep an eye out, but to call back if she was still missing by Monday afternoon. I begged them to look for her. They suggested I call all the neighbors, but I had already done that.”

I had encountered that before with the police department. The Fae did their jobs, but they were underfunded, understaffed, overworked, and tended to cut corners wherever possible.

“I did what they asked me to. I called all the neighbors again, and I walked her usual route. I didn’t find any sign of her. It was like she had just vanished off the face of the earth. By Monday morning, I was frantic. I called the cops again and they stepped up the investigation. The next day they found her body. And my whole world caved in.” Isolde teared up again, pressing her knuckles against her mouth.

Her pain hung heavy in the air. Love lost to murder had its own special kind of grief. I hated questioning victims of violent crimes because it felt cruel to make them relive their pain, but it was the only way we could find out anything to help.

“I’m sorry. If we could spare you this, we would. Do you want a break? Some more water?” I was ready to get her whatever she needed.

“No…I guess I have to be all right, don’t I? The only other option…” Her words drifted off as she hesitated.

“No,” Viktor said. “You need to be alive when we catch the bastard who did this. You need closure and justice for Chaya. And you can’t let her killer have a double victory. If you give up, you’re giving the killer that much more satisfaction.”

Isolde held his gaze for a moment, then slowly nodded. “You’re right. If I give up, then he truly has won, hasn’t he?”

“What would Chaya say to you, if she were here now?” I asked.

Isolde sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “She’d say Don’t let him win. Don’t let my death be in vain. Find the fucker and destroy him.” She straightened. “I’ll be all right. What else do you want to know?”

“Did Chaya mention running into anybody creepy? Maybe someone who was watching her? We have five victims, and each one led vastly different lives,” Viktor said.

“Five victims? Chaya’s not the only one?” Isolde stared at us, wide-eyed. “So many… Chaya was always running into creeps on her runs. You know, the ‘Gimme-what-you-got-baby’ types. But