Chapter 34 THE EVIDENCE
\[ARIA POV\]
The storage unit is full.
Boxes stacked floor to ceiling. File cabinets. A desk. A laptop.
And on the back wall, photos.
Dozens of them.
I step inside. James follows.
I shine my flashlight on the wall.
The photos are organized. Neat. Labeled.
Victim one: Sarah Jennings. Before and after. Alive. Then dead.
Victim two: Rebecca Holt. Same thing.
All the way down. Eight victims. Each one was photographed before and after death.
My stomach turns.
"He kept trophies," James says.
"Not just trophies. Documentation. He's been planning this for years."
I move to the desk. Open the laptop.
It powers on. No password.
He wanted this found. Eventually.
The desktop has folders. Labeled by the victim's name.
I open the first one. Sarah Jennings.
Inside are documents. Surveillance photos. Notes about her routine. Where she lived. Where she worked. What time did she leave her house every morning?
He studied her. For weeks.
I open the next folder. Rebecca Holt. Same thing.
Every victim has a folder. Every folder has the same level of detail.
"This is it," I say. "This is everything we need."
James is going through the boxes.
"Aria. Look at this."
He hands me a notebook.
I open it.
It's a journal. Ethan's handwriting.
I read the first entry.
March 3rd. Subject one selected. Sarah Jennings. 34. Works at a library. Lives alone. Ideal candidate. Will begin surveillance tomorrow.
I flip through the pages.
Every murder is documented. Every decision is explained. Every detail recorded.
"He wrote it all down," I say.
"Not just that."
James hands me another box.
Inside are the origami birds. Not the ones left at the scenes. The practice ones.
Hundreds of them. All different colors. All different stages of completion.
"He's been doing this for years," James says. "Long before the first official victim."
I pull out my phone. Start taking pictures. The wall. The laptop. The notebooks. Everything.
"We need to call this in," I say.
"And tell them what? That we broke in?"
"I don't care. This is the evidence we need."
"It won't be admissible. You know that."
"Then we find another way to use it."
I keep photographing. Every page. Every photo. Every note.
Then I see something.
A folder labeled: Final Chapter.
I open it.
Inside is a single page.
A name. A photo. A timeline.
My breath catches.
It's my brother.
The page has everything. His address. His routine. His job. His friends.
And at the bottom, a date.
Three days from now.
"James."
I show him.
His face goes pale.
"He's planning to kill your brother."
"In three days."
"We have to stop him."
"I know."
I take photos of the page.
Then I hear something.
A car engine. Close.
Headlights sweep across the units.
Someone's here.
"We need to go," James says.
"Wait—"
"Now."
I grab the notebook. Shove it in my jacket.
We step outside. Pull the door down.
The car's getting closer.
We run.
Back to the gate. Slip through.
Get to our cars.
I look back.
The car's parked near Ethan's unit now.
Someone gets out.
Can't see who. Too dark.
But I know.
It's him.
I get in my car. Start the engine.
James pulls out first. I follow.
We drive fast. No headlights until we're off the property.
My hands are shaking.
We got what we needed. But Ethan knows someone was there.
He'll know the lock was picked. He'll know someone broke in.
And he'll know it was me.
I drive to the precinct. James follows.
It's one a.m. Night shift only.
I go to Marcus's desk. He's not there.
I call him.
"Aria? It's one in the morning."
"I need you at the precinct. Now."
"Why? What happened?"
"I found it. The evidence. Everything we need."
"Where?"
"I'll explain when you get here. Just come."
"I'm on my way."
I hang up.
James is standing by the door.
"What now?" he asks.
"Now we wait for Marcus. Show him what we found."
"And when he asks how we got it?"
"I'll tell him the truth."
"You'll lose your job."
"I don't care."
"Aria—"
"Eight people are dead. My brother's next. I don't care about my job. I care about stopping him."
James doesn't argue.
We wait.
Twenty minutes later, Marcus arrives. Sarah's with him.
"What's going on?" Marcus asks.
I pull out my phone. Show him the photos.
"Ethan has a storage unit. We found it. This is what's inside."
He scrolls through the photos. His face hardens.
"Where is this?"
I give him the address.
"How'd you find it?"
I look at James.
"He's been following Ethan. He found it weeks ago."
"And you broke in."
"Yes."
"Without a warrant."
"Yes."
Marcus hands my phone back.
"This is inadmissible. You know that."
"I know."
"Then why are you showing me?"
"Because it's the truth. Because Ethan's planning to kill my brother in three days. Because I need your help."
Sarah steps forward.
"Show me the photos again."
I hand her my phone.
She scrolls through slowly. Stops on one.
"This laptop. It's not password-protected?"
"No."
"That's unusual. Especially for someone this careful."
"I know."
"Unless he wanted it found."
I freeze.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean this could be a setup. He knows you're desperate. He knows you'd break the law to find evidence. So he leaves this here. Waiting for you to find it."
"But the notebook—"
"Could be fake. Planted. All of it."
My stomach drops.
"No. I saw it. It's real."
"Maybe. Or maybe he's playing you."
Marcus takes my phone. Look at the photos again.
"Sarah's right. This is too convenient. Too perfect."
"So what do we do?" I ask.
"We get a warrant. We do this right."
"We tried that. It was denied."
"We try again. With this new information."
"By the time we get a warrant, my brother could be dead."
"Then we protect your brother. Round the clock. Safehouses. Whatever it takes."
"That didn't work before. Ethan got to him anyway."
"Because we didn't know he was the target. Now we do."
I want to believe him.
But I can't.
Ethan's always one step ahead.
"I'm going to the storage unit," Marcus says. "I'll get a warrant. We'll process everything. Do this by the book."
"And if the warrant's denied again?"
"Then we find another way."
He leaves. Sarah follows.
I'm left standing there with James.
"You believe them?" he asks.
"No."
"Neither do I."
"So what do we do?"
"We keep watching Ethan. We don't let him out of our sight. And when he makes his move, we stop him."
"You mean kill him?"
James doesn't answer.
But I see it in his eyes.
That's exactly what he means.
My phone rings.
Unknown number.
I answer.
"Miss me already?" Ethan's voice. Calm. Amused.
"I found your storage unit."
"I know. I saw the lock. Sloppy work, by the way."
"We have everything. The photos. The notebooks. It's over."
"Is it? Or is it just beginning?"
"What does that mean?"
"It means you played right into my hands. Just like I knew you would."
"You wanted us to find it."
"Of course. Evidence gathered illegally is inadmissible. You know that. So all you did was contaminate the crime scene and ruin any chance of using it against me."
My blood runs cold.
He's right.
"But here's the thing, Aria. I don't need that storage unit anymore. I have what I really wanted."
"What?"
"Your desperation. Your willingness to break the rules. Your complete loss of control."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that you're so obsessed with stopping me, you've stopped thinking clearly. You broke into my property. You stole evidence. You're acting like a criminal. Not a cop."
"I'm trying to stop you from killing my brother."
"Your brother's fine. For now. But he won't be. Because while you were busy playing detective at my storage unit, I was busy elsewhere."
"Where?"
"You'll find out. Soon."
He hangs up.
I look at James.
"We need to go. Now."
"Where?"
"My brother. We need to check on him."
We run to the parking lot. Get in our cars.
Drive.
The motel is forty minutes away.
I make it in twenty-five.
Pull up to the building. Fourth floor. I take the stairs two at a time.
Get to the room.
The door's open.
No.
I pull my gun. Step inside.
The room's empty.
Bed's made. No signs of struggle.
But my brother's bag is still here. His phone. His wallet.
He wouldn't leave without those.
I check the bathroom. Nothing.
Check the closet. Nothing.
He's gone.
I call his number.
It rings. Once. Twice.
Then someone answers.
But it's not my brother.
"Hello, Aria."
Ethan.
"Where is he?"
"Somewhere safe. For now."
"If you hurt him—"
"I haven't. Yet. But that depends on you."
"What do you want?"
"I want you to stop. Stop investigating. Stop following me. Stop trying to prove something you can't prove."
"Let him go and I'll think about it."
"You'll do more than think about it. You'll do it. Or he dies."
"Ethan—"
"You have forty-eight hours. After that, he becomes victim number nine. And this time, everyone will watch."
The line goes dead.
I stand there. Gun in my hand. Room empty.
James appears in the doorway.
"He's gone?"
"Yeah."
"Ethan has him."
"Yeah."
"What are we going to do?"
I look at him.
"We're going to find Ethan. And we're going to end this."