17. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Hydessa

I slept through my alarm. Either that or I never turned it on to begin with because the sun is flooding the room and the time on my phone reads after ten before I return to consciousness. There are also a couple of unread messages on there too.

Unlocking my phone, I narrow my eyes. There is a message from my parents waiting, but there is also one from the unknown number. Choosing to put off the one from the unknown number, I open the one from my parents first.

DAD

Call us, you have your mother worried.

MOM

Please… you keep forgetting the please… and when will you admit that it's you that worries too.

DAD

* frowning emoji*

PAPA

JFC *eye roll emoji* She is a very capable adult. She is fine, aren't you, munchkin?

PAPA

Munchkin?

PAPA

* frowning emoji* Okay, I'm now team Dare… Call us, now.

Checking the time of the messages, I realize they were sent an hour ago. Huffing out a sigh, I know there is only one solution to their worries. Quickly getting out of bed, I use the bathroom to freshen up before throwing on leggings and a top and putting my hair up.

Picking my phone back up on my way to the office, I click on the video call icon as I mentally prepare myself to face my worried parents.

The video call connects, and within moments, the concerned faces of my parents appear on the screen. Their expressions soften with relief as soon as they see me.

"Hey there, munchkin," papa says, his voice filled with humor. "You finally decided to wake up, huh?"

My dad's eyes narrow slightly. "We've been trying to reach you for ages. Are you okay? Why didn't you answer earlier?"

I offer a sheepish smile, feeling a pang of guilt for causing them worry. "Sorry, I slept through my alarm. I'm okay, though, just a bit groggy."

Dad frowns, his eyes narrowing further as they assess me. It's almost like he can see something I can't. "How groggy, what does it feel like?"

I roll my eyes with a sigh, it's no secret that they had intentionally drugged mom at one point. "I was up until the early hours of the morning hunting, it's my own fault," I tell them reassuringly.

Dad shakes his head, though I can see the relief in his eyes. "Well, you're lucky you called us back. Your mom was about to fly over there on the next flight out."

Mom nods, her expression softening. "We just worry, honey. You know how it is. Especially with the vagueness surrounding your case, going undercover can take a toll on people."

"I know, Mom," I reply sincerely. "I appreciate you checking in, really."

Papa leans closer to the camera. "Is that a tan? In two days? Aren't you meant to be investigating, not sunbathing?" His laughter has me shaking my head with a smile.

"How is your investigation going?" I ask, hoping to divert the attention away from that topic.

Mom sighs and a look of frustration crosses her face. "It's going okay, I think we are closing in on our main suspect. How about you, are you getting closer?"

My pulse quickens as I remember the message waiting for me from the unknown number and everything that happened last night. "Yeah, definitely getting closer."

Mom's brow furrows slightly. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? You sound a bit off."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mom," I reassure her. "Just a late start to the day, that's all. You know it always throws me off when I don't get in my early morning jog and cup of coffee."

I'm not sure they believe me, but Papa finally smiles brightly. "Alright, munchkin. Just remember to take care of yourself, alright? And keep us posted more often."

"I will," I promise, feeling a surge of affection for them. "Love you guys."

"We love you too," Mom replies softly.

We end our call and I sit back in the chair with a sigh, still staring at the phone.

Taking a deep breath, I click through to my messages again and pull up the one from an unknown number. I frown when I see it's a video, the initial preview shot is black so I don't even know what it is that I'm about to click on.

Bracing myself, I open it and press play, but there is no bracing myself for the loud audio. Whimpers, moans and cries echo around the office and I drop the phone onto the glass desk. I don't need to see it though, I already caught a glimpse before it slipped from my fingers. It's a crystal clear view of me spread out on the bed last night, bringing myself to climax.

When the voice starts talking over the video, I have to admit to myself it wasn't just my efforts that got me an orgasm, but those psychos behind the masks..

"Look at you, little shadow, look at how beautiful you are spread out, exactly like we wanted you. You're skin flushed and your pussy all wet for us. Look at what a good girl you were."

My whole body flushes again as the sounds continue to play on the phone, I slowly reach out and pick the screen back up and take in the scene. I can faintly hear their voices praising and encouraging me, but the voice talking over the video it's louder.

"Keep watching, little shadow, we are almost to the best part," his voice continues, and I know what part he is talking about as the sound of my moans grow. I see my fingers twist at my nipple and a cry escapes me.

"Right… there… mmmmmmm… perfection… I can't wait to hear the sounds you make while your pussy squeezes my cock."

As much as I want to slam the phone down and block the number, I equally can't stop watching in fascination. I have no control over how his words affect me, my body throbs without my permission as I watch myself panting on the screen.

How did I even end up in this situation? I should have stood up from that bed and demanded they show themselves, demanded answers, demanded they stop killing. I should have done anything except spread my legs like a good little frustrated whore.

"See you soon, little shadow," comes through just as it fades to black again.

Little shadow? He called me that last night too.

I'm very glad that I didn't open that message before I called my parents. Placing the phone back down on the desk with a heavy sigh, I now feel like I need another shower to cool my skin.

As I try to steady my breathing, I glance up at the wall with my investigation notes, hoping to distract myself from the video that is playing on repeat in my mind.

Frowning, I tilt my head as I look over my neatly positioned notes and printouts. Something seems off about them, yet nothing looks out of place. My skin prickles with the sensation of being watched, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm not alone.

They have a camera in my room, what if they have one here too?

I feel like I'm going to be sick, but I can't afford to lose my composure now. Yet, something doesn't feel right. Maybe it's paranoia, but some internal alarm is ringing. As a precaution, I snap pictures of the board with my phone. Next, I check the room and then the house for signs that anything is out of place, but everything appears undisturbed.

Then cursing myself for not even considering the possibility before now, I get the small scanner I have to check for bugs. It was given to me by Uncle Max, and he would be so disappointed in me for not using it when I arrived. I naively thought that a simple run through with my own eyes would do the trick.

The device is small, but still powerful enough to pick up most things. For the next hour I slowly make my way through each room, finding multiple devices, including one hidden near the television in my room as well as one in the office. I remove them all and store them in a small faraday box to block the signals.

It almost feels like a proverbial ‘fuck you' to be able to do that. I have taken away their ability to watch me, but it still didn't help me solve this mystery.

How did they get them here in the first place? Were they here from the beginning or did they place them last night when I went out seeking them?

I huff as I once again look at the investigation wall and the list of names stuck to the center of it. The twelve names seem to taunt me, each one a potential lead to the identities of the killers. I could expand on the list, there are a lot of residents to look at, but these first twelve seem like a good place to start.

I'll work my way through them as quickly as I can before I add more to it, and if I need to stay longer then it's not exactly the worst place to be stuck. I just hope no one else is killed in the meantime. Given the frequency of the murders on the blog however, I need to make progress, and fast.

I'm about to reach for my tablet when my stomach makes a rumbling protest. Looking at the time, I realize that it's almost lunchtime and not only have I not had breakfast, I also haven't even had coffee.

No wonder I feel like I'm about to start dragging my feet. The sun is bright in the sky and I'm technically on holiday, so there's nothing to say I can't work from the beachfront. Grabbing my tablet along with my other necessities, I put on some shoes and make my way toward the sandy shores after locking the door to the house securely behind me.

There is almost always someone out and about in the sunshine who offers me a wave as I walk. I return their smiles and waves, trying to blend in, trying to appear just like any other local enjoying the beautiful weather.

As I walk, I ponder over the names, wondering if I can use the time during the day to find out more information on them without being too obvious. For me to look them up online I would need their last names, which would definitely fall into the obvious category. But perhaps there are ways to find them, like on social media platforms or simply looking at posts about the island and those who are tagged in images.

Even with it being lunchtime my feet still make their way to the bakery. I'm reminded of what Maddie said the day before, that the best person for any gossip or information on the island is Allegra.

Maybe if I eat there, I can wait out the lunchtime rush and find a moment to see if she might sit and talk to me. Maybe she could tell me all the information I want under the guise of gossip, even if she is one of the suspects on my list.

I know she wasn't one of the ones to wrap their hand around my throat, but she could be the perfect lead to me finding who was.