The good news was, after this evening, they’d be getting tons of tips about the murder on Oak Street. Too many, really. They’d collected all the information they could before going public; they’d identified all the party guests except for the artist, Chris. They’d also talked to several of the victim’s family members and coworkers. Now, it was time to announce it to the public and see what else came in. There’d be a flood at first, of course. So many people thought they had information about so many things; some even seemed to enjoy calling the tip line. Some people were lonely and just wanted to be a part of the action; others truly thought they had something that would contribute to the case. It would take time to sort through it all, but she knew that there’d be a gem in there. Something that would help them catch the person who had done this.

She gripped the side of the sink and looked into the mirror.

Get over it, Claire.

You have to do this.

She began to go over all the reasons that she should, starting with the image of the victim’s bloodied face, which had been haunting her since she first saw it.

That was how it worked: she saw victims, and they stayed in her mind, just out of sight, until she solved the case. She knew deep down that was the reason why she’d never left a case unsolved; she feared that if she did, the image would eat her brain from the inside out and drive her insane.

Claire grasped the sink as she felt the anger rolling through her body, all the way to her fingertips. She could see the body at the top of the stairs, and she felt the fire rising. She had to solve this case, and if standing up in front of those cameras was the only way to do it, then so be it. She would have to get up there and describe the events that took place, answer a few questions, and ask the public for help in bringing justice. She’d have to be calm, show strength, and allow just the slightest bit of sadness to remain behind her eyes, for the family’s sake.

But for Claire, she’d be talking to one person in particular.

One of the six party guests.

Meggie Bentley or her boyfriend, Patrick?

Emma Bentley?

Andrew Brighton?

Joshua, the quirky store owner?

Or the artist with the red shoe—Chris?

The murderer would be doing something mundane right now, watching television or eating a meal. Hoping that the day of reckoning would never come, that there was a chance in hell fate would pass over this one particular case.

Then Claire would appear on the television and make it clear that wasn’t the case. Not with her in charge. She would stare into the camera and make it clear: