Chapter One

It was raining outside. The mist and fog gave Detective Avery Dexter goosebumps. He could feel the cold seeping into his skin.
He had a feeling this case was going to be another brutal one.

"Watch where you're going, Avery," Hunter Connor said, ducking slowly under a low-hanging branch. He pulled his leather coat tighter around himself to keep warm.

"The guy I was questioning found her twenty minutes ago. The dog walker heard the pop and thought it was a firework until he saw the pink coat in the brush." The sound of birds flying through the woods filled the air. It was cold, and people were talking— forensics technicians, crime-scene investigators, and other authorities from the city.

The girl was lying on the ground, pale, her eyes looking as though she had been suffocating and fighting for her life.

"Gosh, she was only eight years old," Avery whispered, his voice cracking as if he had just gotten over a cold.

He knelt a few feet away, refusing to let his shadow fall over the girl.

Her name was Emelia. She was supposed to be at a birthday party in Central Park, but unfortunately, she was here, playing in the woods with her friend.

Hunter stood behind Avery, biting his lip. He scanned the surrounding woods—a labyrinth of winding paths and steep slopes that made this part of the park a nightmare to secure.

"She was shot multiple times in the chest. I'm thinking blunt-force trauma, but we need the ME to confirm," Hunter said.

"Okay. I'll have the Evidence Response Team here in seconds," Avery said, sighing. "Shoot. I need a minute," he added before turning around and walking away.

Avery Dexter had been promoted to homicide detective in the New York Police Department's Homicide Squad in Manhattan.

He was the most intelligent detective in the squad room and the youngest member of the Manhattan Homicide Squad. As a cop, Avery, who was twenty-four years old, and his partner, Detective Hunter Connor, who was twenty-seven, had to drive to Mr. and Mrs. Joy's house because their eight-year-old daughter, Emelia Joy, had been murdered in the woods, where her body had been found. Mr. and Mrs. Mark and Alana Joy were Avery's neighbors.

Avery was forced to deliver the bad news. That was the most challenging aspect of his job as a detective in New York. It was never pleasant for him to break bad news to the loved ones of a murder victim.

After getting out of the police car, Avery and Hunter walked up to the door of the Joys' house, and Avery exhaled.

Other upscale homes had been constructed in the neighborhood where they lived. It was a community where wealthy people resided. Avery knocked on the door, and Mrs. Joy opened it.

"Can I help you?" Mrs. Joy asked.

"Mrs. Joy, it's Avery, and this is my partner, Detective Connor, from the NYPD. Is your husband home?" Avery asked.

"You're a cop? I didn't know that," Mrs. Joy said with a smile.

Avery smiled softly at Mrs. Joy. He felt bad about what had happened to Emelia.

"Uh, honey, the police are here," Mrs. Joy said.

Mr. Joy walked up to the door and said, "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Mr. Joy, it's Avery, and this is my partner, Detective Connor. We're detectives from the NYPD, and we wanted to talk to you about your daughter, Emelia Joy," Avery said nervously.

"Oh, Avery, you're a cop. I didn't know that. What a surprise," Mr. Joy said.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Joy asked.

"Is Emelia okay?" Mr. Joy asked.

Avery had a hard time finding the right words to explain to Emelia's parents that their daughter had been killed.

"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Joy, we found a body near Central Park Loch. We believe that your daughter, Emelia, was the victim of a homicide," Avery said.

The scream that left Alana's throat was a sound Avery knew he would never be able to get out of his head. As Alana dropped to her knees, her husband dropped beside her, remaining in shock. Avery knelt down and placed a hand on Alana's shoulder while offering his condolences. He felt guilty and hoped to find more answers about why Emelia had been murdered.

Avery stood and sighed. Mr. and Mrs. Joy continued crying. After comforting them, Avery felt hopeless.

The next day, Emelia Joy was at the morgue. She was examined by the medical examiner, Dr. Samantha Kylie, who was reviewing the autopsy report. Emelia had died from complications resulting from a gunshot wound, including severe organ damage and internal bleeding.

Avery looked down at Emelia Joy, her pale skin and lifeless body lying on the autopsy table. He had flashbacks of his little sister, Mackenna Dexter. Mackenna had also been murdered when she was eight years old.

Fifteen-year-old Avery had stood in the morgue, looking at his little sister lying dead on the autopsy table. His parents had needed the medical examiner to confirm that the body was their daughter's. Mackenna had also died from complications and organ damage caused by a gunshot wound to her chest. The killer had shot her directly in the heart.

Avery's flashback ended when Sam tried to get his attention.

"Oh, sorry. I spaced out for a little bit," Avery said.

"Dexter, you're not going to like what I found in this case," Dr. Kylie said, stepping back from the steel table where eight-year-old Emelia Joy lay.

She tapped a gloved finger against the X-ray pinned to the light box.

"The entry wound is mid-sternum, just below the manubrium. It's a clean penetrating wound."

Detective Avery Dexter didn't move. His eyes remained fixed on the small, pale face.

"Just tell me the truth, Kylie. Do you think she suffocated?" Avery asked.

"It didn't hit the thoracic aorta," Dr. Kylie explained, her voice clinical but not unkind. "She died from a massive hemorrhage—internal bleeding. She lost consciousness in less than a second. As soon as the bullet hit her chest, it caused blunt-force trauma."

Dr. Kylie sighed, her movements slow and steady.

"It's so bad that I lost count of how many gunshot wounds she had to her chest."

Avery looked down at Emelia Joy once again as she lay on the autopsy table and had another flashback of Mackenna.

Avery had a bad feeling about this killer.

He cleared his throat, forcing the image of Mackenna out of his mind. He looked Dr. Kylie directly in the eyes, his voice dropping to a low, jagged whisper.

"Was she raped?"

Dr. Kylie didn't blink. She had seen that look in his eyes too many times before. She looked down at the chart and then back at him, her expression softening just a fraction.

"Yes. I ran a rape kit. There was, in fact, semen in her underwear. She was raped, tortured, and murdered. She was only eight years old, and God knows why this man took the life of an innocent child."

After leaving the medical examiner's office, Avery and Hunter Connor discussed how Mackenna and Emelia reminded Avery of the way his sister had died.

"I'm sorry about your sister, Avery," Hunter said.

Avery shook his head. "Yeah, I know. Everyone loved Mackenna. She was always the light of my life. I promised her that I would protect her. When I found out she had been murdered, I was devastated," he explained.

Hunter nodded.

"But Emelia was the same age as Mackenna when they were both murdered," Avery said.

"So Emelia reminds you a lot of your sister," Hunter said.

"Yeah," Avery replied.

"So why do you think this killer killed Emelia?" Hunter asked.

"At the crime scene, she had bled to death after being shot multiple times in the chest. The killer might have killed Emelia for a specific reason. I'd say it was someone who probably hates children," Avery said.

Avery and Hunter got into their unmarked police car and shut the doors. Avery sat in the driver's seat, and Hunter sat in the passenger's seat. Avery started the engine and shifted into drive.

Avery Dexter knelt in the dirt, his attention fixed on the small, singular entry wound in Emelia's chest. The next day, the NYPD Ballistics Lab would confirm the exact caliber, but he had seen enough trauma to recognize the precision of a small-frame handgun—likely a .22 or a .380.

"Small caliber," Avery noted, his voice flat.

"Minimal exit trauma. The bullet probably flattened against a rib or lodged in the spine. It was a close-contact shot, Hunter. Look at the stippling on the fabric of her coat."

Hunter circled the perimeter, his flashlight beam cutting through the gloom.

"No brass, Dex. If it's a semiautomatic, the shooter took the time to find the casing in the leaves. If it's a revolver, the casing never leaves the cylinder."

"This wasn't a stray," Avery said, standing and brushing the forest floor from his knees.

"A stray shot at this range would have more erratic placement. This was a steady hand. He held her still, or she stood still for him."

Avery looked toward the Loch.

"The NYPD Evidence Collection Team is going to need to sift through every inch of this mud. If that bullet is still inside her, the medical examiner is our best bet for finding a signature. Check the second we get a lead. If this gun has a history in the five boroughs, I want it on my desk by morning."

At the New York City Police Department, Avery discussed the gun the killer had used to murder Emelia.

"Ballistics confirmed that the bullet was from either a .22 or a .380," Avery said.

"When did he purchase the gun?" Hunter asked.

"Six months ago. He purchased it at a gun shop called Gary's Guns, located downtown in Manhattan," Avery answered.

"Okay," Hunter said.

"I talked to the owner of the store, and he said they don't keep receipts. They give the receipt to the person who bought the gun. Gary doesn't keep a single receipt from his customers," Avery explained.

"Okay. What about financial records? Bank statements?" Avery continued.

"The gun the suspect purchased cost five hundred dollars. He used his debit card to buy it," Hunter said.

Avery sighed. "Were there any other witnesses at the crime scene besides the woman who found Emelia's body?" he asked.

"No. But I already questioned a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Jack and Jacqueline Gopher. They said they knew Emelia Joy's parents and Emelia herself, and that Emelia and their daughter, Rebecca Gopher, who is also eight years old, were playing together that day—the same day Emelia was murdered," Hunter said.

"Where was Rebecca at that time?" Avery asked.

"Her mother told me that Rebecca got tired of playing and decided to go back home. Emelia decided to stay in the woods and play. That was about an hour before her body was found," Hunter replied.

Avery nodded. "So we should talk to Rebecca. Have her tell us more about Emelia," he said.

Hunter sighed. "Okay."

The next thing Avery and Hunter did was drive to the Gophers' house.

They knocked on the door, and Mrs. Gopher answered.

"Detectives?" Mrs. Gopher said.

"Hi, Mrs. Gopher. We wanted to talk to your daughter, Rebecca. Is she home?" Avery asked.

"Yeah. She's upstairs in her bedroom. I'll go get her," Mrs. Gopher said.

Mrs. Gopher turned around and headed upstairs to Rebecca's bedroom. Avery and Hunter could hear Mrs. Gopher telling Rebecca that the police wanted to speak with her. Rebecca said okay and left the bedroom, while her mother headed downstairs to the living room.

"What's this about?" Mr. Gopher asked.

"We just wanted to talk to Rebecca about her relationship with Emelia. We want to know if she knows anyone who would want to hurt Emelia—stuff like that," Avery said.

Mr. Gopher nodded. "Okay."

Avery sighed. Rebecca, her mother, her father, Hunter, and Avery all sat down in the living room.

"Rebecca, I hope you understand that you're not in trouble," Avery said.

"Okay. I know," Rebecca replied.

Avery nodded. "Can you tell me what Emelia was like?" he asked.

"She was a good friend to me. We've been best friends since we were babies. I loved her. She and I used to play with Barbie dolls. Rapunzel was her favorite," Rebecca said.

"Yeah? Did Emelia ever have any trouble with anyone at school? Maybe her teachers were giving her a hard time or anything like that?" Avery asked.

"Everyone loved her," Rebecca said.

"What about her neighbors?" Avery asked.

"I am her neighbor. But there was this one guy who was kind of giving Emelia a hard time," Rebecca said.

"Oh, really? Who's that?" Avery asked.

"Mr. Piper," Rebecca replied.

"Mr. Piper? Is he a nice man?" Avery asked.

"No. He called Emelia mean names. He said he didn't like her," Rebecca said.

"Mr. Piper always had a bad temper. He's just old. You know how old people can get," Mrs. Gopher said.

"Okay. Which house does he live in?" Avery asked.

"He lives next door to us," Rebecca said. "The house next to mine," she added.

Avery nodded.

"Okay. Rebecca, why do you think Mr. Piper was being mean to your friend?" Avery asked.

"Emelia accidentally fell off her bike in his yard, and Mr. Piper doesn't like it when someone comes onto his property," Mrs. Gopher said.

Avery nodded. "Okay. Well, we'll talk to him."

Meanwhile, Avery and Hunter stood from the living-room couch and walked to the door. Mrs. Gopher kindly walked them out of her home, and Avery and Hunter went next door to Mr. Piper's house.

Avery knocked on the door.

He heard Mr. Piper groan and his dog bark. Mr. Piper angrily told the dog to shut up, then opened the door.

"What do you want?" Mr. Piper asked.

"Mr. Piper, hi. I'm Detective Avery Dexter, and this is my partner, Hunter Connor. We're detectives from the NYPD. We wanted to talk to you about the incident that happened yesterday morning near Central Park—the murder of a little girl named Emelia Joy," Avery said.

"I've got nothing to say," Mr. Piper said.

"Mr. Piper, we just want to ask you a few questions," Avery said.

"No!" Mr. Piper shouted.

"Mr. Piper, I don't mean to pry, but don't you want to know what happened to your neighbor's daughter?" Avery asked.

"That little punk got what she deserved," Mr. Piper said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Avery asked.

Mr. Piper rolled his eyes. "Goodbye!"

He slammed the door shut.

Avery scoffed. Hunter sighed.

"Was that kind of odd to you?" Hunter asked.

Avery nodded. "He's my neighbor. He's always been that way since I moved here."

Avery walked toward the car, and Hunter followed.

Over the next few days, Avery and Hunter returned to Mr. Piper's house to search the premises. They used their flashlights because it was dark inside. Avery walked around the living room while Hunter searched the kitchen.

"So why do you think Mr. Piper had something to do with Emelia's murder?" Hunter shouted.

"I've known him since I moved here after college, before entering the police academy. He and I have never liked each other. I've seen him walk around outside with his dog, yelling at children for no reason," Avery explained.

"So Mr. Piper may be our suspect?" Hunter asked.

Avery sighed. "I don't know. I remember that he had a loaded gun in his hand whenever a child walked onto his lawn. I had to confront him. I told him I was a cop and would have him arrested. I never saw him carry a gun after that," Avery said.

"Yeah, but he had a loaded gun before. That makes me suspicious," Hunter said.

Hunter eventually walked into the living room and saw Avery heading upstairs to Mr. Piper's bathroom.

After Avery entered the bathroom, he sighed once again and began searching for evidence. He opened the cabinet above the sink and searched through the medicine bottles and other items. He shut the cabinet, looked in the shower, checked the trash can beside the toilet, and eventually left the bathroom and headed toward the bedroom.

Avery took his flashlight and searched for any small piece of evidence that could link Mr. Piper to Emelia Joy's murder. He knelt on the floor and looked underneath the bed. All he saw was an old pizza box with flies buzzing around it, and the smell was horrendous.

"Ugh," Avery said.

He covered his nose with his hand and stood up. He looked in the closet, searched the drawers, and checked everything else. He still didn't find anything that could identify Mr. Piper as a possible suspect in Emelia Joy's murder.

Hunter came into the bedroom and sighed before telling Avery that they had searched the entire premises and hadn't found anything suspicious. Avery cleared his throat and nodded without saying a word.

"So, do you still think Mr. Piper is our suspect?" Hunter asked.

"No," Avery said, looking at Hunter.

"Come on. Let's get out of here before he sees us," Hunter replied.

Avery nodded silently and walked past Hunter before exiting the bedroom. Hunter turned around and followed Avery out of Mr. Piper's house.