He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing in thought. “I think it’s too early to form an opinion. But I’d say the best case scenario is that it’s a twisted prank and the ears are fake.”

  “But… is that even possible?” I asked, frowning. “That letter mentioned things that someone could only know if they’d been following me around the city and staring through my bedroom window.”

  “I know it may seem like that upon first glance,” Sieger said. “But here’s the thing. Say someone was listening to your podcast, and they decided to play a cruel trick on you. The first thing they’d do is Google you. They’d probably visit your podcast website too.”

  I nodded slowly. “Okay…”

  “You and Freya have short bios on that site. That’s how I found your details yesterday. And in those bios, it mentions that you’re both recent college graduates.”

  “Uh… yeah, we are,” I said, not quite following his train of thought.

  “Most college students have a favorite study spot. A quiet corner in the back of the library? That’s a very common choice. So while that line in the letter feels creepy and specific, like someone has been following you around for months, it’s actually a pretty generic line that could apply to a lot of college grads.”

  “Oh. I see what you mean.”

  “Regarding the lipstick line… again, it seems very personal at first. Like someone’s been watching you through your window. But I’m willing to bet there are a lot of young women who frequently put on a bold new lip color before they second-guess themselves and remove it because they’re not sure if they can pull it off.”

  My shoulders sagged as a flicker of relief passed through me. “That’s true. But what about the café thing?”

  He gave me the faintest of smiles. “Honestly, it’s pretty common knowledge that Satchmo does great afternoon deals on their pastries and sandwiches. I haven’t been in town all that long, and even I’ve heard about it. So it’s probably very common for people to stop and check it out when they happen to be walking past.”

  I nodded slowly. “It’s pretty close to my house, too,” I said. “So yeah… it could just be an educated guess.”

  “Exactly. And as for how this person might’ve found you… well, you wouldn’t believe the information that’s available if you simply Google a person’s name.”

  “Actually, I would believe it,” I said, raising a brow. “My stepbrother showed me all this privacy stuff earlier today, and I found out that a ton of my personal details are online. Like my number and home address.”

  Sieger nodded. “That’s probably how they tracked you down, then. They got your address online, and then they waited there and followed you to your stepbrother’s house before leaving the letter on your car.”

  “That seems like a ton of effort for a prank, though, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes. But some of these trolls are really dedicated to their ‘craft’, as they call it,” he said, voice tinged with disdain.

  I gnawed on my cheek again, mulling things over. Then I looked up. “So… that’s the best case scenario. What’s the worst case scenario?”

  Sieger didn’t answer right away. His piercing green eyes searched mine, sympathy flickering behind them, and his lips parted as if he wanted to speak but didn’t want to shatter the fragile calm I was clinging to.

  “It’s okay. I already know what it is,” I said in a hollow voice, lifting a palm. “I just need to hear someone else say it out loud.”

  He nodded. “I’d say the worst case scenario is that you’ve got a very dangerous stalker. One who’s capable of extreme violence.”

  “Right.” I inhaled again, forcing it deep. “So what do I do now?”

  “We’ll hope for the best but plan for the worst, just in case,” he said. “I’m going to arrange a 24/7 police presence at your house. Starting tonight, there’ll always be a patrol car parked outside with two officers.”

  “That’s reassuring,” I said softly. “Thanks.”

  “I’d also suggest you take certain precautions when you need to go out. Stick to busy, well-lit areas.”

  “So… no solo hikes in the woods at midnight, then?” I said with a weak, strangled laugh.

  He didn’t smile. “Kennedy, this isn’t a joke. It’s a very serious matter.”

  “I know. Sorry.” I winced. “My therapist said I use humor as a coping mechanism.”

  His face softened slightly. “Ah, I see.”

  “I know I need to stop it. I just—” I stopped abruptly, eyes widening.

  “Kennedy?” Sieger raised a brow. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. It’s just…” I trailed off and shook my head. “No, never mind. It’s nothing, really.”

  “You don’t need to say sorry. You’re the victim here,” he said. “But anything that comes to mind could end up being important. So please tell me whatever just occurred to you.”

  “Okay. It’s just… the mention of my therapist made me realize something I forgot earlier,” I said. “His last name starts with the letter K.”

  “Do you have any reason to think he might be behind this letter? Any odd behavior?”

  “I don’t think he’s behind it. But…” I trailed off again, reluctance creeping into my voice. “Look, I really don’t want to get anyone in trouble here.”

  “Don’t worry. We can check things out discreetly, if need be.”

  “Okay, well, I’ve been seeing Dr. King for a few years. My college offers free sessions for students who can’t afford the full cost, which is usually $250 per session. It’s subsidized through the endowment.”

  “That’s a great resource for students.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said, giving him a faint smile. “Anyway, because I graduated back in May, my free sessions expired. But during my last session with Dr. King, he offered to speak with me outside the office. For free.”

  Sieger scribbled something on the page in front of him. “And that bothered you?”

  “I wouldn’t say it bothered me, exactly. Just that it seemed… a little strange. And maybe a bit unethical, too,” I said. “I really don’t think it means he’s chopping off ears and writing riddles to me, though.”

  “But still, something about it didn’t sit right.”

  I nodded. “I think he’s just really curious about me because of what happened to my father. My last therapist was like that too. He was actually writing a book about the Carver.”

  “Right.” Sieger tapped his pen against the page. “We’ll check him out.”

  “I really don’t want to ruin anyone’s life over a coincidence,” I murmured.

  “You’re not doing that. If he’s innocent, it’ll be a blip on the radar. And like I said before, he’ll never need to know that you mentioned his name in here.”

  “Okay. Good.” I took another deep breath, mind still spinning from everything that had happened today. “How long until the tests on those ears are finished? And what about the letter? Does anyone have any idea what that riddle means yet?”

  “Regarding the letter, we have some people working on the riddle as we speak. And there’s all sorts of things that forensics can do to figure out who wrote it,” Sieger said. “Even though it was typed and printed, examiners can often trace the document back to the exact printer. Especially if it’s a laser printer with identifying microdots or serial coding embedded in the ink.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  “Yes. And as for the ears…” He paused and glanced at his watch. “Given the late hour, we might not have results until tomorrow morning. So for now, I’d suggest you go home and try to get some rest. Though I understand how difficult that might be right now.”

  I frowned. “Didn’t you want to discuss the podcast with me?”

  His brows lifted slightly. “At some stage, yes,” he said. “But I figured you’d want to get out of here sooner rather than later, considering what you’ve gone through tonight. So that can wait for a couple of days.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said, shrugging listlessly. “Honestly, anything that distracts me from that horrible letter is fine in my book.”

  “Well... all right. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m guessing you want us to take the show down?” I said, arching a brow. “For stirring up trouble, or whatever.”

  “Actually, no. Quite the opposite.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. “I should give you a quick background on myself, just so you know where I’m coming from in all this. I actually specialize in cold cases.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s cool.”

  “I’ve had a decent track record over the years, so the Corwin Bay PD invited me up here to look into the Carver case,” he went on. “With the tenth anniversary coming up, and still no resolution, they thought it was time for fresh eyes. I’m hoping I can make some headway on it, at least. Also, my grandparents live in the area, so I’ve spent a lot of time here in the past.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. That you have family in the area, I mean.”

  “Yeah, it definitely made the move a lot easier,” he said. “Although I was in Boston before, so I was pretty close anyway.”

  “Ah.” I tilted my head. “Weird question, but… do your grandparents happen to live on Monterrey Drive?”

  Sieger blinked. “Yes. How did you know that?”

  “When I told Freya about your email, she said an older couple with your surname were her neighbors before she moved house. She said—”

  I stopped abruptly as the rest of her words flashed through my mind. She’d said her neighbors lost their only child and her husband in a tragic accident many years ago. So if Malachi was their grandchild, then that meant he’d been orphaned young.

  It was awful, but far too personal to bring up with someone I’d only just met. Really, I shouldn’t even know such intimate details about him.

  He leaned forward. “She said what?”

  “Oh, er… she really wanted to know why you emailed me about the podcast.”

  “Right.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Well, I wanted to talk to you because I know how effective social media can be. True crime podcasts included. A lot of LEOs don’t want to acknowledge that, because they feel it undermines their position, but it’s true. The Blakewood case was solved after the Red Tapes went viral last summer, and that was a case that had stumped detectives for decades.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I remember that one. It was huge.”

  He gave me a faint smile and went on. “I’m also well aware of how reluctant people can be to talk to cops. But I really want to get this thing solved,” he said. “So… I wanted to propose a sort of deal.”

  “A deal?”

  Sieger leaned forward, eyes glinting with determination. “If you and Freya agree to pass on any tips you get from listeners with information about the case, we’re willing to give you limited access to some of the casefiles. We’ll also grant you exclusive access to two of the riddles that the Carver sent us. As you know, none of those have ever been released to the public.”

  My breath caught. “Are you serious?”

  If Freya and I obtained even just one of the Carver riddles, that could make the already-popular podcast absolutely explode online. With all that added traction, we could get new theories, new leads… maybe even new suspects.

  Sieger nodded firmly. “I’m dead serious. I already have the go-ahead from Captain Fleming. So take some time to think about it and discuss it with Freya, and get back to me when you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” I said quietly, still trying to process it all. “I’ll let you know our decision.”

  “Good. I’m looking forward to hearing from you,” he said. As he spoke, something flickered in his eyes, and my skin prickled with awareness.

  I told myself it was just adrenaline; that I was totally wired and imagining things. There was no way this detective was attracted to me. He was just doing his job.

  Then again, if that was the case… what made him decide to contact me instead of Freya, who was the real brainchild behind the podcast? Was it purely out of respect for the fact that I was the one with more emotional ties to the Carver case?

  Yes. Of course. That had to be it.

  I stood and brushed my palms against my jeans, trying to dispel the sudden heat crawling up my spine as I quietly thanked him for his time.

  Sieger dipped his chin in a brief nod. “I’ll be in touch about your case,” he said. “For now, try to get some rest.”

  My legs moved before my brain caught up, carrying me to the door like I was on autopilot. The station beyond was quieter now. No ringing phones or voices bouncing off the walls. Just the dull thud of my sneakers as I stepped into the hallway with Sieger’s offer still echoing in my head.

  Somehow, despite the horror of tonight, a new door had opened… and I had no idea where it might lead.

  Transcript from ‘After the Carver’ Episode 3

  [Intro music fades in — somber piano and static crackle, slowly fading out]

  KENNEDY:

  This is After the Carver. I’m Kennedy Campbell.

  FREYA:

  And I’m Freya Landis. Today’s episode is one that a lot of listeners have been waiting for… and one that we’ve both been dreading.

  KENNEDY:

  Yeah. Because this one is about the suspects. The ones who had fingers pointed at them, and then walked away with no charges, no trial… but also no real way to clear their names in the infamous court of public opinion.

  FREYA:

  A quick note before we get started: every person we’re going to mention in this episode was either officially cleared by law enforcement or is now deceased. So this isn’t an invitation to play detective or dig into their families’ lives. Please respect their privacy. And please respect the dead.

  KENNEDY:

  Before we jump into the list of names, we’re going to talk about the FBI’s psychological profile of the Carver, along with some theories from the public, because all of that will be relevant once we start discussing the suspects.

  FREYA:

  Here’s what the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit said. The Carver was likely a white male, aged anywhere between twenty and forty-five, with an above average IQ. He was organized, methodical, probably single, and lived alone.

  KENNEDY:

  He was familiar with the Corwin Bay area, either as a long-time resident or someone who spent significant time here in the years leading up to the killings. Someone who knew the geography. The routines. The rhythms of the town.

  FREYA:

  Sorry to backtrack, but I just have to ask this question before I forget. How can anyone seriously believe that the Carver might’ve only been twenty years old? I mean, I’m twenty-two, so twenty wasn’t so long ago for me, and I can’t even fathom doing all that stuff at such a young age. It seems like something that would’ve taken years to plan. Even decades, maybe.

  KENNEDY:

  That’s the thing, though. You’re not a ruthless psychopath. So of course you can’t put yourself in the Carver’s shoes. Or mind, more accurately. Your brain’s just not wired that way.

  FREYA:

  Yeah, that’s a good point. I wouldn’t be capable of that stuff at any age.

  KENNEDY:

  I should hope not. Also, in case you’re still not convinced… almost ninety percent of serial killers are men between twenty and thirty-five. So it’s actually more likely that the Carver was a younger guy than an older one.

  FREYA:

  Wow. That’s seriously wild.

  [Brief pause]

  Anyway, back to the BAU profile. They speculated he might have experience in cryptography, literature, linguistics, or even computer programming. Something that could lend itself to the kind of riddles he created. So he might still be working in one of those fields today.

  KENNEDY:

  Not all the agents saw eye to eye on the profile, though. There was one key disagreement that came up again and again behind the scenes.

  FREYA:

  Which is how he chose his victims.

  KENNEDY:

  Yup. One of the lead agents believed the Carver knew his victims personally.

  FREYA:

  But the other lead profiler had the opposite take. She thought that the Carver chose random people and patiently stalked them for weeks or even months. During that time, he learned their habits so he could strike when the opportunity was perfect.

  Whatever the case was… he always seemed to know exactly how, where, and when to abduct each victim without being caught.

  KENNEDY:

  Like my father. The Carver knew where he lived, and he also seemed to know he’d be getting home from the hospital just before two o’clock in the morning, because he arrived at the same time. It seemed planned. Not just an opportunistic abduction.

  FREYA:

  Yup. And that brings us to the theory that’s gained the most traction in true crime forums and message boards over the years. The hospital theory.

  KENNEDY:

  This theory is specifically in regard to Corwin Bay Regional Hospital. Two of the Carver’s thirteen victims worked there.

  FREYA:

  One was Kennedy’s father, as we discussed in Episode 1. The other you might recall from Episode 2—Christopher Miles.

  KENNEDY:

  The theory goes like this: if the Carver worked at that hospital, he could’ve personally known my father and Christopher. He also could’ve feasibly crossed paths with every other victim.

  Maybe he met some of them while they were visiting a sick or injured friend. Maybe they checked into the ER after a car accident or brought in a sick child. Whatever the case, it gave him a reason to observe them up close without raising suspicion. A hospital is intimate in that way. You’re vulnerable there.

  FREYA:

  This theory was so widespread that all hospital employees ended up being investigated by the police. Nothing came of it, but it’s one of those threads people can’t quite let go of. It feels plausible.

  KENNEDY:

  It does. But it’s not the theory you lean toward, is it?

  FREYA: