Chapter One

The damp scent of rotting leaves and Midtown exhaust hung heavy over the North Woods, a dense, forty-acre thicket in the northwest corner of Central Park. Detective Avery Dexter stepped over a tangle of black birch roots, his polished Oxfords looking entirely out of place against the mud.

"Watch your step, Dex," Hunter Connor muttered, ducking under a low-hanging branch. He pulled his coat tighter.

"Uniforms found her twenty minutes ago. The dog walker heard the pop, thought it was a firework until he saw the pink coat in the brush."
They broke through a cluster of oaks into a small clearing near the Loch, where the sound of the artificial waterfall usually drowned out the city's roar. Now, the only sound was the rhythmic crinkle of a forensic technician's jumpsuit. In the center of the yellow tape sat eight-year-old Emelia Joy. She looked less like a victim and more like a discarded doll, propped against a moss-covered rock. Her wide, glassy eyes were fixed on the canopy of trees above. The center of her white sweater was ruined—a jagged, blooming crimson stain that marked where a single bullet had torn through her chest.

"Eight years old," Avery whispered, his voice cracking like dry timber. 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 the Upper West Side." Hunter stood behind him, his jaw set so tight it looked like stone.

He scanned the surrounding woods—a labyrinth of winding paths and steep slopes that made this part of the park a nightmare to secure. "Shot in the chest at close range. No shell casing in immediate sight. The shooter knew this spot—it's secluded, no cameras, and the water masks the sound." Avery reached out, his hand hovering inches from a small, glittery hair bow lying in the dirt.

"She didn't run, Hunter. Look at her shoes. No mud on the soles, no scuffing. She was carried here, or she walked in with someone she trusted." The neon lights of the city glowed against the low clouds in the distance, a reminder of the millions of people just a few hundred yards away who had no idea that, in the dark heart of the park, the world had just ended for a girl named Emelia.

"Let's get the NYPD Evidence Collection Team in here," Hunter said, his voice dropping to a low growl. "And Avery? We're not leaving this park until we have a lead."

Avery Dexter was promoted to homicide detective for the New York Police Department's Homicide Squad in Manhattan. He is the most intelligent detective in the squad room and the youngest member of the Manhattan Homicide Squad. As a cop, Avery, who is twenty-four years old, and his partner Detective Hunter Conner, who is twenty-seven, had to ride together to Mr. and Mrs. Joy's house because their eight-year-old daughter Emelia Joy was murdered in the woods and her body was found. Mr. and Mrs.

Mark and Alana Joy are Avery's neighbors. Avery was forced to deliver the bad news. That's the most challenging aspect of his job as a detective in New York. It's never pleasant for Avery to break bad news to a murdered victim's loved ones. After getting out of the police car, Avery and Hunter walked up to the door of Mr. and Mrs. Joy's house, and Avery exhaled.

Other upscale homes were constructed in the neighborhood where they resided. It's a community in a wealthy neighborhood. Avery knocked on the door and Mrs. Joy opened it.

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

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

"You're a cop? I didn't know that," says Mrs. Joy, smiling.

I softly smiled at Mrs. Joy. Avery was feeling bad about what happened to Emelia. "Uh. Honey. The police are here," says Mrs. Joy.

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

"Mr. Joy, it's Avery, and this is my partner Detective Conner, we're detectives from the NYPD and we wanted to talk to you about your daughter, Emelia Joy," says Avery, in a nervous voice.

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

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

"Is Emelia okay?" Mr. Joy asked.

Avery had a hard time trying to find the right words to explain to Emilia's parents that their daughter had been killed. "Um. Mr. and Mrs. Joy, we found a body near Central Park. We think that your daughter was involved in a murder investigation," Avery said.

"No! No! No!" shouted Mrs. Joy.

She dropped to her knees and started crying and screaming. "My baby!" Mrs. Joy shouted. She continued crying. Mr. Joy was in shock. Mr. Joy knelt on his knees and comforted his wife. Avery sighed and he knelt on his knees and comforted Mrs. Joy and told her how sorry he was for the loss of their daughter.

Avery stood back up and he sighed. Mr. and Mrs. Joy continued crying. After comforting Mr. and Mrs. Joy, Avery felt hopeless. Therefore, the next day, Emelia Joy was taken to the morgue. She was being examined by a medical examiner and the medical examiner Samantha Kylie was going over the autopsy report and Emelia had died from complications of an infection after a gunshot including severe organ damage.

She wasn't raped. No signs of sexual abuse, and Avery was looking down at Emelia Joy, her pale white skin, and her deceased body lying across the autopsy table, Avery had flashbacks of his little sister Mackenna Dexter.

Mackenna was also murdered when she was eight years old. Fifteen-year old Avery was at the morgue looking at his little sister lying dead on the autopsy table because his parents had to tell the ME to confirm if it was Mackenna lying on the table to confirm if it was their daughter who was murdered.

Mackenna also died of complications of an infection and organ damage due to a gunshot wound in her chest. The killer shot her right in the heart. Avery's flashback ended and Sam was trying to get Avery's attention.

"Oh sorry. I spaced out a little bit," says Avery. "Dexter, you're not going to like the trajectory on this one," 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 lightbox.

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

Detective Avery Dexter didn't move, his eyes fixed on the small, pale face. "Just give it to me straight, Doc," Avery said. 

"The projectile didn't just pass through the transected thoracic aorta," Dr. Kylie explained, her voice clinical but not unkind. "At that range, the hydrostatic shock literally burst the vessel. She suffered a massive internal hemorrhage—exsanguation into the pleural cavity. The official cause of death is a single gunshot wound to the chest, but the mechanism was the rupture of the great vessels. She would have lost consciousness in seconds."

Kylie pulled the sheet back up, his movement slow and deliberate. "Manner of death is homicide, Avery. There wasn't a world where she survived that shot."

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.

Once walking out of the medical examiner's office, Avery and Hunter Connor, were discussing how Avery's sister Mackenna and Emelia Joy reminded Avery of how she died.

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

Avery nodded his head no. "Yeah, I know. Everyone loved Mackenna. She was always the light of my life. I promised her that I would protect her. Then when I found out she was murdered, I was devastated," explained Avery. Hunter nods his head.

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

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

"Yeah," says Avery.

"So why do you think this killer killed Emelia," says Hunter.

"At the crime scene, she bled to death, shot in the chest multiple times, and the killer might have killed Emelia for a reason. I'd say a killer who probably hates kids," says Avery.

Avery and Hunter both got into the car, an unmarked police car, and after getting into the car, they shut the door. Avery is sitting in the driver's seat, and Hunter is sitting in the passenger's seat. Avery turned the engine of the car on and he pulled the gear 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 eventually confirm the exact caliber, but he'd 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 semi-auto, the shooter took the time to find the casing in the leaves. If it's a revolver, it never left the cylinder."

"This wasn't a stray," Avery said, standing up and brushing the forest floor from his knees. "A stray hit 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 every inch of this mud. If that bullet is still inside her, the Medical Examiner is our best bet for a signature".

"I'll call the Crime Lab in Queens," Hunter said, pulling his phone.

"We need a NIBIN 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." Avery said.

At the New York City Police Department, Avery was discussing what gun the killer used to kill Emelia and it was confirmed by ballistics that the bullet was a .22 or a .380," Avery said.

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

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

"Okay," Hunter. "I've talked to the owner of the store, and he says that they don't keep receipts. They have the person who bought the gun, and they get to keep the receipt. Not a single receipt Gary keeps from his customers," says Avery

"Okay. So how about any financial records? Bank statements," says Avery, continuing the conversation.

"Uh yeah. The gun the suspect had purchased cost $500. He used his debit card to purchase the gun," says Hunter.

Avery sighed. "Were there any other witnesses at the crime scene? Besides that one woman who found Emelia's body," says Avery.

"No. But I did already questioned these couple Mr. and Mrs. Jack and Jaqueline Gopher, who say that they knew Emelia Joy's parents and Emelia herself, and that she and their daughter Rebecca Gopher, who's also eight years old, were playing together that day, the same day Emelia was murdered," says Hunter.

"Where was Rebecca that time?" Avery asked.

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

Avery nods his head. "So we should talk to Rebecca. Have her tell us more about Emelia," Avery said.

Hunter sighed. "Okay."

The next thing Avery and Hunter did, was drive to Mr. and Mrs. Gopher's house. They knocked on the door and Mrs. Gopher answered.

"Detectives?" says Mrs. Gopher.

"Hi, Mrs. Gopher. We wanted to talk to your daughter Rebecca. Is she home by any chance?" Avery said.

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

Mrs. Gopher turned around and headed up the stairs to Rebecca's bedroom. Avery and Hunter could hear from upstairs that Mrs. Gopher told Rebecca that the police wanted to speak to her. Rebecca said okay and she left the bedroom and her mother Mrs. Gopher heads downstairs to the living room.

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

"Uh. We just wanted to talk to Rebecca about what her relationship was like with Emelia. You know, if she knows anyone who would want to hurt Emelia, stuff like that, Mr. Gopher," says Avery.

Mr. Gopher nods his head. "Okay." I sighed. Rebecca and her mother including Mr. Gopher, Rebecca's father, and Hunter and Avery all sat down in the living room.

"Rebecca? I hope you understand that you're not in trouble here or anything," says Avery.

"Okay. I know," says Rebecca.

Avery nods his head. "Can you tell me what Emelia was like?" Avery asked.

"She was a good friend to me. We've been best friends since we were babies. I loved Emelia. She was my best friend," says Rebecca.

"Yeah? And did Emelia ever have any trouble with anyone at school? Maybe her teachers are giving her a hard time or anything like that?" Avery wondered.

"Everyone loves her," says Rebecca.

"What about her neighbors?" Avery asked.

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

"Oh really? Who's that?" Avery asked. "Mr. Piper," says Rebecca.

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

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

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

"Okay. And which house does he live in?" Avery asked. "He lives next door to us," says Rebecca.

"The house next to mine," Rebecca said once more.

Avery nods his head. "Okay. And Rebecca, why do you think Mr. Piper, was ya know, why do you think he was being mean to your friend," Avery wondered.

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

Avery says, "Okay. Well, we will talk with him."

Meanwhile, Avery and Hunter stood up from the living room couch and walked to the door. Mrs. Gopher kindly walked them out of her home and Avery and Hunter walked next door to Mr. Piper's house. Avery knocked on the door. Avery heard Mr. Piper groan and he heard his dog barking and he told his dog in an angry voice to shut up.

Mr. Piper opened the door. "What do you want?" asked Mr. Piper.
"Uh, Mr. Piper, hi. I'm Detective Avery Dexter and this is my partner Hunter Conners. We're detectives from the NYPD. We wanted to talk to you about the incident that happened yesterday morning near Central Park, about a little girl, Emelia Joy, who was murdered yesterday," says Avery.

"I got nothing to say," says Mr. Piper.

"Mr. Piper, we just want to ask you some questions," says Avery.

"No!" shouted Mr. Piper.

"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," says Mr. Piper.

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

Mr. Piper rolls his eyes. "Goodbye!" Mr. Piper slams the door shut.

Avery scoffed. Hunter sighed. "Was that kind of odd to you?" wondered Hunter. Avery nods his head yes. "He's my neighbor. He's always been that way, since I moved here," says Avery, walking past Hunter. Hunter follows Avery to the car. Avery and Hunter head back to the car.

The next few days, Avery and Hunter were back at Mr. Piper's house and they were searching the premises. Avery and Hunter had their flashlights on since it was dark inside the house. Avery was walking around the living room and Hunter was walking in the kitchen. "So why do you think Mr. Piper had something to do with Emelia's murder?" Hunter shouted. "Uh, well, I have known him since I moved here after college and before entering the police academy. He and I never had a fondness for each other. So I would see him walk around outside with his dog and yelling at children for no reason," explained Avery.

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

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

"Yeah. But he had a loaded gun before. It makes me suspicious," says Hunter, eventually walking into the living room, and he saw Avery heading up the stairs to Mr. Piper's bathroom. After Avery entered the bathroom, he sighed once again and searched for evidence in the bathroom.

He opened the cabinet above the sink and he was searching through the medicine bottles and other items and he shut the cabinet and looked in the shower, in the trash can beside the toilet, and eventually left the bathroom and headed towards the bedroom. Avery took his flashlight and started looking for any kind of small evidence that could have led to the murder of Emelia Joy.

Avery kneeled on the floor, looking underneath the bed, and only saw a left behind pizza box, with flies flying around and the smell was horrendous. Avery said, "Ugh." He covered his nose with his hand and he kneeled back up from the floor. After Avery stood up from the floor, he looked into the closet and drawers, and everything else. He still didn't find anything that could lead to Mr. Piper as their possible suspect in Emelia Joy's murder.

Hunter came into the bedroom and he sighed before telling Avery that they had searched all over the premises and didn't find anything suspicious. Avery cleared his throat and he nodded his head 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 without saying a word nodded his head and he walked past Hunter before exiting the bedroom. Hunter turned around and he followed Avery out of Mr. Piper's house.