Chapter 59
Emily's POV
The night Julie's body was discovered, I woke up gasping for air, clawing at invisible webs that clung to my face, my throat, my arms. In my nightmare, the world had been covered in thick, gray-white spider silk. The sticky threads had wrapped around me, constricting my breathing, binding me in place.
And then I'd seen her—a figure identical to me, smiling with unnatural wideness, orchestrating the web's expansion.
My mother's gentle voice from the dream pulled me awake.
I checked my phone: 3:17 AM. I scrolled through Julie's social media accounts, finding some comfort in her vibrant online presence. Her food channel had over 200,000 followers. The videos showed slow, methodical preparations of colorful foods set to gentle music.
As I watched her hands knead dough and pipe frosting, my mind shifted to the killer.
I closed my eyes and thought. If Julie's death connected to her food videos, the killer must have some relationship with food. A food lover, perhaps, but with a twisted relationship to eating.
Someone who's lost the ability to taste food properly due to years of damage to their digestive system. Someone desperate to experience flavors again, even vicariously.
Like the nails and glass found in the first victim—seeking intense sensations through pain when happiness can no longer be felt. Someone who might progress to forcing others to eat for them, watching the experience play out on someone else's face.
The picture of our killer began taking shape in my mind. And gradually, I drifted back to sleep.
Michael's POV
The next morning.
"We've gone through Julie's phone," Daisy announced, setting up the evidence board. "No suspicious calls or texts in the days before her death. But look at this post from the morning she disappeared."
She displayed a screenshot from Julie's private social media account: So excited! Finally meeting my absolute favorite idol today!
"She was meeting an idol," Thomas concluded, typing rapidly on his laptop. "Julie followed dozens of food influencers and celebrities. I've downloaded her entire follow list."
"If it was someone special, she would have had a special note for them—that's information Lucas provided to me," Daisy said.
I nodded, acknowledging this information. Family often provided the most valuable insights.
Emily arrived, looking exhausted. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her normally perfectly styled hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.
"How are you holding up?" Daisy asked, immediately wrapping Emily in a hug.
Even the usually silent Raymond offered Emily a word of comfort.
"I'll be better when we catch this bastard," Emily replied, her voice raw.
Olivia entered with a file folder. "I have the autopsy results," she announced. "Julie Grey died two days ago. Cause of death was asphyxiation due to airway obstruction."
She displayed photos on the screen. "The victim's stomach contained numerous small objects: polymer clay figures, resin miniatures, decorative space sand, modeling compounds."
"Less painful than the first victim's nails and glass fragments," I noted.
Raymond slammed his fist on the desk. "What kind of sick fuck makes people eat this stuff?"
Daisy studied the photos. "These materials are common in DIY crafts. Maybe our killer is a female crafting influencer?"
"Unlikely," Olivia cut in. "Based on the evidence, I don't believe our killer is female."
The room fell silent.
"We found fingerprints on the stomach contents," Olivia continued. "Most belonged to the victim herself. I believe she was forced to handle these objects before ingesting them."
"What's your evidence for a male perpetrator?" I asked.
Olivia held up an evidence bag containing what looked like a tiny cake. "This resin miniature contained a short male hair with the follicle still attached. It was embedded in the resin before it hardened, meaning it got there during creation."
"Do we have DNA results?" I asked.
"Yes, but no matches in the database," Olivia replied.
Emily pointed at the resin cake. "That hair wasn't an accident. Julie put it there deliberately. She left us evidence."
"Julie asked me what to do if a criminal captured her," Emily explained. "I told her to buy time, to compliment the perpetrator, not to antagonize them. She said if it were her, she'd try to secretly collect evidence—hair, fingerprints, anything that could later identify them."
The room grew silent as the implications sank in.
"Based on this and the victim profile," Emily continued, "I can give you a preliminary profile of our killer. Male, 25-30 years old. Likely a former food blogger or competitive eater who left the industry. Probably suffers from severe eating disorders, particularly binge eating. Has likely been hospitalized for ingesting harmful objects. Recent esophageal damage may have left him unable to eat normally—possibly reliant on feeding tubes or nutritional supplements."
"You're saying he forces victims to eat what he can't?" Thomas asked.
"Yes," Emily nodded. "He doesn't primarily want to kill them. He wants to experience food again through them. The first victim may have had a personal connection—someone who wronged him somehow. Julie was targeted because of her food channel."
"With the DNA evidence and this specific profile," I said, "we should be able to identify suspects quickly."
I turned to Daisy. "I want you to go through Julie's social media accounts with a fine-tooth comb. Find out which food bloggers she followed most obsessively."
Daisy nodded, already pulling her laptop closer.
"Daniel," I continued, "compile a list of food bloggers who've suddenly stopped posting in the past year. Look for any patterns or connections to our victims."
"On it," Daniel replied, fingers flying across his keyboard.
"Raymond, I need you to keep canvassing the neighborhood where Julie's body was found. Look for any suspicious individuals or vehicles."
Raymond grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "I'll head out now."
"Thomas and I will visit the first victim's company. They apparently worked with several food influencers on marketing campaigns."
I noticed Emily sitting quietly throughout the briefing, her face pale but determined. When I didn't assign her a task, she raised her hand like a student in class.
"What about me?" she asked, her voice tight.
"Emily, Julie was your cousin. You should recuse yourself from this investigation."
"What?" The shock on her face was immediate.
"It's standard procedure. You're too close to the victim."
The room went silent as everyone stared at Emily. I could almost see something inside her snap.
"Is that what matters here? Procedure?" she demanded, standing up. "Does following protocol matter more than catching the killer? Are we seriously putting rules above stopping this monster before they kill again?"
"Emily—" I tried to interject, maintaining my calm.
"No!" She slammed her hand on the table. "Just because some legal statute says I should step aside doesn't make it right! Will that rule help us catch this psychopath? Will it bring Julie back? Will it prevent the next murder?"
Her voice cracked on the last word, and I realized she hadn't fully emerged from her grief. I locked eyes with her, understanding her pain, but knowing I couldn't bend on this.
"Take some time to cool off, Emily. We'll talk later."
She stormed out of the conference room, the door slamming behind her with a satisfying bang. I sighed internally. This wasn't going to be easy.