THIRTY-FOUR

5.15 P.M.

‘And there it is,’ Stacey said, scrolling the kids’ section of the Seekers site. ‘I mean, what kind of sicko involves kids in these gruesome discoveries?’

‘You still think he’s not so bad, Stace?’ Penn asked.

‘I never said he wasn’t a nasty, sick bastard; I just said I think he hasn’t killed before.’

She knew Penn remained unconvinced and he might be right, but she had long ago learned not to fight her own gut instinct in the face of other people’s opinions.

The post had been placed on the Baby Seekers section of the site at nine o’clock that morning.

She’d had the main trails page open and had been keeping tabs on new postings there while also checking other sites, but she hadn’t realised he’d be that despicable.

She went back to the home page. There were seven different boards, offering different kinds of trails.

She scrolled through each board looking for the most recent postings.

A ball of dread formed in her stomach.

The Jester had posted the clue for the Saltwells Nature Reserve at 11.01 a.m.

Under the same name and on a different seeker board he’d listed the clue for the zoo at exactly 3.01 p.m.

Shit, the boss was going to go mad.

Their sicko was turning the whole thing into a free-for-all. His clues included a deadline and hinted there’d be consequences if they didn’t solve them by the time stated.

Was he going to post every clue publicly the minute the time limit expired? Was he trying to pile on the pressure of a member of the public getting to the box and the clue before they did?

She could only imagine if that happened and the lucky finder went to the press with details of another body part from Hiccup. The media would slaughter them, not to mention that they’d lose access to the next clue.

Stacey shuddered just thinking about it.

But was this the only consequence, or would there be worse repercussions if they didn’t make a clue on time?