Chapter 8
The Anonymous Source
The note writer contacts Harding again, offering veiled clues that seem designed to steer the investigation, but towards what end?
The second note arrived not by mail, but tucked beneath the windshield wiper of Harding’s unmarked sedan, a silent, unsettling delivery. It was a Tuesday, the sky a bruised, overcast grey that mirrored the mood of the town. The first note had been a jolt, a spark in the suffocating gloom of Mary Miller’s disappearance. This one felt like a deliberate prod, a hand guiding his own.
Harding unfolded the crisp paper, the same cheap, unlined stock as the first. This time, no typed words, but handwriting. A neat, almost elegant script, surprisingly steady.
“The digital trail is a ghost’s echo. Look where the light doesn’t reach. She sought more than escape. She sought justice.”
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