16. Chapter 16 Confrontations and Notes

Chapter 16: Confrontations and Notes

EVELYN

I sit at my desk, staring at the grainy photo of Cassandra—Rachel, as she calls herself now. The file spread out before me feels like a chaotic mess. My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen. It's Mark.

"Hey, Mark. What's up?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"We got a hit on Cassandra's face. She's been teaching at Harmony Elementary under the name Rachel Meyer," he says, excitement tinged with concern. "And I have her home address listed with the school."

"Oh shit! Why didn't I remember that about her? She told me she was a teacher at the elementary school. Damnit, we could have saved so much time! I'm going to pay her a visit right now," I reply, already grabbing my keys.

"Be careful, Evelyn. She's dangerous."

"I will. Thanks, Mark."

I hang up and head to my car, my mind racing. Rachel Meyer, a teacher at the local school, was living among us undetected the whole time we were searching for her! Damn, you'd think I was the one with the memory problem. And why didn't I think to investigate anyone new to the town first?!

I drive through the quiet streets of Harmony Grove remembering how it used to be. As I pull up to the modest house, I see her sitting on the porch, reading a book. She looks up, and our eyes meet. Her mismatched eyes, one blue and one green, send a surge of uneasiness through me.

I approach calmly, my heart pounding. "Rachel? Or should I call you Cassandra?"

She sets her book down and stands, her expression neutral. "Rachel is fine. What can I do for you, Sheriff?"

"We need to talk," I say, keeping my voice level.

"About what?" she asks, feigning innocence.

I take a step closer. "We have reason to believe you're involved in the recent murders."

Her eyes narrow slightly, but her voice remains calm. "That's a serious accusation. And it's completely false. I'm a teacher, not a murderer."

"We know who you really are, Cassandra," I say, holding her gaze.

She crosses her arms, her demeanor shifting. "I don't know who the hell Cassandra is. Now, unless you have evidence, I'd appreciate it if you got off my porch."

I study her for a moment, searching for any sign of weakness, but she stands firm. "This isn't over. We will find the evidence."

She smirks. "Good luck with that, Sheriff. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have lessons to prepare."

I turn and walk away, my mind buzzing. She's playing a dirty game, and she's good at it. But I won't let her win.

Back at the department, I gather the team. Ana, Mark, Linda, and Teresa.

"She denied everything and now I feel stupid for approaching her in the first place. I thought I could get her to slip up and admit her role in the murders but she was as cool as a cucumber. I didn't think she would deny it all so easily," I say, frustration evident in my voice. "Claims Rachel is her name and that she has nothing to do with the murders."

Ana leans forward. "What do we do now? She is dangerous and knows we are on to her!"

"We find evidence," I say firmly. "Something that ties her to the crimes. She's been living here for at least a month now, hiding in plain sight. There has to be something."

Mark nods. "We need to dig deeper into her background, her connections."

"Let's focus on her life here," Teresa suggests. "Talk to her colleagues, her neighbors. Someone must have seen something."

"Good idea," I agree. "Linda, you and Teresa take the school. Talk to the staff; see if anyone knows anything unusual about her. Mark, you, and Ana work on her neighbors. I'll coordinate from here and see if I can find any overlooked connections."

Everyone nods, determined. We break, each of us taking on our tasks. I head to my office, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Cassandra—Rachel— won't get away with this.

We dig through records and interview witnesses. Eventually, the sun sets, and night falls, but we keep working. The team returns one by one, each with pieces of information that we piece together like a mosaic.

Linda speaks first. "The staff at the school says Rachel keeps to herself. Doesn't socialize much, but she's an excellent teacher. No one suspected a thing."

"Her neighbors say she's quiet but friendly," Mark adds. "One mentioned seeing her talking to a strange man a few nights ago, but they didn't get a good look at him."

Ana frowns. "It's not much, but it's a start. We need to find out who that man is."

I nod. "We need to keep digging. Something will break. It has to."

As the night wears on, I feel fatigue setting in, but I push through. We sift through records, follow leads, and piece together a picture of Rachel's movements. It's clear she's been careful, covering her tracks well.

I finally decided to head home and get some sleep. As I slide into the driver's seat, I notice something odd—a small piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper. Frowning, I retrieve it and unfold it, revealing neatly typed words that shoot terror through me to my core.

Good to see you are catching up. When I finish with your stupid fiancée, I will be back for you. The games have begun.

My heart races as I read and reread the threatening message. Someone out there knows about Alexei and me, about our findings about Cassandra—or Rachel, as she prefers to be called now. The darkness outside seems to close in, and I feel exposed and vulnerable.

Without hesitation, I start the car and drive straight to Alexei's place. The roads are deserted at this hour, and the occasional streetlight casts eerie shadows on the pavement. My mind races with scenarios—Cassandra's next move, the safety of Alexei, and the looming threat hanging over us.

When I arrive at Alexei's house, I park in front of the familiar gates and rush up to the door. He answers quickly, his expression tightening when he sees the note clutched tightly in my hand.

"Evelyn, what is it?" he asks, concern etched on his features as he takes the note from me.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Someone left this on my car," I explain, my voice tight. "They know about us falsifying our breakup, Alexei. They're threatening you."

He reads the note carefully, his jaw tightening. After a moment of silence, he sighs heavily. "Now is not the time for caution," he says firmly. "We can't keep hiding while she's out there."

"But if you confront her, she'll deny everything," I argue, the weight of our predicament settling heavily on my shoulders.

"I know," he replies, running a hand through his hair. "But we can't sit back and wait for her to make the next move. We need to act."

I look at him, seeing the determination in his eyes. "What do you want to do?"

He meets my gaze steadily. "I want the house arrest lifted. I need to confront Cassandra myself."

I hesitate, torn between protecting him and knowing that he's right. "Are you sure about this?"

"I am," he says firmly. "I need to face her, Evelyn. And you need to be safe and so does Harmony Grove."

I nod slowly, knowing there's no changing his mind once it's made up. "Okay. I'll talk to the council first thing in the morning."

"Thank you," he says sincerely, pulling me into a brief but tight embrace.

The next morning, I gather the council in my office—Karla, Ana, and a few of the others on the council and my trusted deputies. I explain the situation, showing them the threatening note and emphasizing the urgency of our predicament.

Karla listens intently, her expression grave. "Cassandra is a formidable adversary," she says finally. "If she's threatening Alexei, she's not to be taken lightly."

Ana nods in agreement. "We need to lift house arrest. Alexei needs to confront her."

One of the deputies, Mark, speaks up. "What if she denies knowing anything? We won't have anything on her."

"We have to take that risk," I say firmly. "Alexei believes he can get through to her. We need to trust him and his instincts."

After a tense discussion, the council reluctantly agrees to lift the house arrest on Alexei, but with strict conditions—he'll be accompanied by deputies at all times, and a tracker spell will be placed on him discreetly to monitor his movements, both for keeping him safe and knowing where he is at all times.

Once the decision is made, I head straight to Alexei's house to deliver the news. He listens quietly, his expression unreadable. When I finish, he nods once, his jaw set with determination.

"Thank you, Evelyn," he says softly. "I appreciate your support and love you so much."

"We'll be with you every step of the way," I assure him, placing a hand on his arm.

He smiles faintly. "I know."

Later, we stand together outside his house as the deputies prepare to lift the house arrest. Alexei looks out at the quiet street, a mix of emotions crossing his face—resolve, worry, and determination.

"I'll be careful," he says, meeting my gaze.

"I know," I reply, trying to mask my anxiety. "Just come back to me alive and unscathed."

He nods, squeezing my hand briefly before the deputies escort him to his car. I watch them drive away, my heart heavy with worry.

I anxiously wait for any news, turning to any task I can find to take my mind off the situation and pacing when that fails. Finally, the call comes—from Alexei himself.

"Evelyn," he says, stress evident in his voice. "I spoke to her. She denied everything, just as we expected."

"And?" I prompt, my heart in my throat.

"And I let her go," he continues quietly. "There was no evidence, nothing to tie her to the threats."

I exhale slowly, a mix of frustration and relief flooding through me. "What now?"

"We keep looking," he says firmly. "We'll find something, Evelyn. I promise."

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Okay. Be careful, Alexei."

"I will," he assures me before hanging up.

I sink into my chair. Cassandra—or Rachel—remains at large, a dangerous adversary with unknown motives. And now, with Alexei exposed, I fear what her next move might be.

But one thing is certain—we won't rest until we bring her to justice.