Killer Love

CHAPTER 22

Cassidy continued to stare at the map, not sure what to make of the new information they had just discovered. Mayberry was at the center of the murderer's killing spree. What did that mean? Was there someone or something in Mayberry? Was that her? Did the notes she had been receiving have something to do with this?

"How could we have missed this?" Wyatt murmured next to her.

Both he and Adam stood staring at the map, their faces serious. Adam had forgotten about the cupcake he was previously eating.

"We weren't looking at it as a whole. But now that Cassidy pointed it out, it's kind of hard not to notice," Adam stated.

"A circle. Why are they killing in a circle?" Wyatt mused softly to himself.

"And why is Mayberry at the center?" Adam asked.

"Maybe because of me," Cassidy found herself saying.

Two pairs of eyes turned in her direction instantly.

"Why would it be because of you?" Wyatt asked.

She shrugged.

"I don't know. But whoever the killer is, they know me. There has to be a reason they've been sending me stuffed animals from the crime scene every month. Maybe Mayberry being the center has something to do with that," she concluded.

"That reminds me. I've been meaning to ask you about the stuffed animals," Wyatt began.

He pointed to the table behind them and motioned for her to sit. She took a seat at the table while both Wyatt and Adam sat down as well.

"What about the stuffed animals? I think the Agents asked me everything they could already," Cassidy pointed out.

"I'm sure they did. But they were so focused on who sent the stuffed animals, they never stopped to think why stuffed animals. The killer wants to send you a memento, that part I understand. But why stuffed animals?" Wyatt asked her.

He looked across at her as though expecting her to have an answer.

"Um, I'm not sure," she answered.

She honestly wasn't. Who knew what the killer was thinking?

"Do you like stuffed animals? Was it something you liked as a kid?"

Cassidy thought back to her childhood and a memory popped into her head. A friend of hers from kindergarten had brought her stuffed unicorn to school a day. Cassidy had fallen in love and asked her mother to get her one. It had been a bit pricey, but her mother had still bought it. Her father had come home angry that evening. When he saw the stuffed animal and heard how much they had paid for it, his anger had intensified. He teared it apart in front of her, pulling it limb from limb.

"I did actually," she answered softly, the memory playing in her brain still. She had almost forgotten about that. It had been so long ago, and she had tried her best to forget everything she could from when she was younger. And she had been barely six at the time.

"I was young. Really young. My mother bought me a unicorn because I saw a friend in kindergarten have one. My father, he uh, ripped it apart in his anger," Cassidy said quietly.

"Have you ever had one since then?" Wyatt asked, his tone soft and calming.

He was trying his best to get her to relax and forget about the memory, which she was grateful for.

"I haven't. I was afraid he'd do the same to any that I got. Rose and I always talked about the things we'd get if our dad would let us. Stuffed animals were one of them."