Page 49 of Craving Sin (Touch of Evil 13)
Theo stood, brushing the debris from his jeans. He then joined her so that they were side by side, leaning against the four-wheeler. His support had her lifting the radio back to her lips.
“The cabin is pretty broken down, but we found Jacob’s sketchbook. I don’t know if it’s the same one you discovered in his bedroom when you were teenagers. There are…a lot of victims. Pages and pages of detailed sketches with names. Victims who we never connected to him. I’m assuming their remains have never been found.” Sylvie paused, giving herself some time to mentally compose her thoughts. “We found something else, Brook.”
This time, Sylvie delayed giving Brook time to process the information.
“Some boards gave way beneath me. I fell into what turned out to be an ice cave.” The memory of that moment—the sudden drop, the shock of cold, the disorienting darkness—rushed back with vivid clarity. Sylvie pushed it aside, focusing on the facts. “We don’t know how, but Jacob somehow dug up Sally Pearson’s grave. He took her head, Brook. He transported it from Illinois to Alaska and created a shrine.”
The silence that followed was absolute, as if even the static had been shocked into submission. Sylvie would have given anything not to relay this information over a damned radio, but these were the cards that they had been dealt.
“June.” Brook’s voice had come through the radio. Not soft. Not with disbelief. Just…a factual word. “I guess we know why Jacob wanted me here in the month of June.”
Sylvie turned her head and met Theo's gaze, understanding passing between them. June had been the month Sally Pearson was killed in the middle of a cornfield. It was the month Jacob had first destroyed Brook's world, setting in motion the chain of events that led them all here, to this remote mountainside in Alaska, unraveling a horror that spanned thousands of miles.
“Coordinate things with Bit. He’ll get you a team up there as soon as possible. We’ll need to keep this from the media until I’ve had a chance to speak with the Pearsons,” Brook directed without hesitation. Only then did she soften her tone. “Keep her safe for me until I can take her home.”
Sylvie had known Brook during her tenure with the FBI. That version had been cold and distant. Theo had been right. Brook wasn’t going to revert back to that person, whose sole purpose was to sacrifice herself for her brother’s sins.
Jacob’s power had just been stripped down to a mere icicle.
Brook was now armed, and her brother had just lost his last advantage.
24
Bobby ‘Bit’ Nowacki
June 2025
Wednesday — 3:09 pm
Bit shifted his weight from one foot to the other, acutely aware of the small stones grinding beneath his running shoes. Unlike the others, who had come equipped with sturdy boots, he hadn’t anticipated finding himself in a place where traction would be essential. He was lucky to have grabbed his hoodie before leaving the hotel.
Nathaniel stood in front of Bit, the man’s features practically frozen in disbelief. His eyebrows had arched extremely high upon hearing what Sylvie and Theo had discovered at the cabin on the other side of the mountain. It was obviously taking him a while to comprehend the situation.
Bit tugged at his beanie, pulling it lower over his ears.
It wasn't the chill that bothered him, but rather his concern for Brook. The head of her best friend in high school had been transported through several states and kept in an ice cave for years. That was disturbing on an entirely different level.
A flurry of movement drew Bit’s attention skyward. Three ravens burst from a nearby spruce before spreading their wings wide and gliding on the wind that had picked up speed since earlier this morning. Higher up, a solitary hawk circled with predatory patience, riding the invisible currents.
“I need time to process this,” Nathaniel muttered before turning away. He rubbed his hands down his face, as if he wanted to erase everything that had happened since leaving D.C. “Shit.”
Bit glanced to his left, noticing that the Kalluk family had clustered together near the edge of the clearing. They were literally a tight knot of shared grief.
Former Governor Kalluk stood with his arm around his wife, while another family member consoled the grandmother. No one needed to reinforce home that one of their own was a murderer.
They no longer spoke amongst themselves.
Their attention had fixed on the pair of forensic technicians crouched over Kavik Aningan's body, their blue-gloved hands moving with clinical precision over what remained of the man who had once loved their daughter.
State troopers milled around the perimeter.
Their numbers had doubled in the past hour as more had arrived, eager to aid the federal agents in whatever capacity necessary. Meanwhile, the remaining forensic techs had departed for their hike to the coordinates Brook had provided—the suspected resting place of Lusa Kalluk's remains.
If Brook was right, and she usually was, this day would bring closure to a family but open wounds for an entire community.
“I’m going to need you to say that again.” Nathaniel's voice carried the strained quality of a man trying to sound reasonable while his worldview shifted. That was saying something, considering his occupation. “Because it sure as hell sounded like you said Jacob Walsh somehow transported a human head from Illinois to Alaska.”
“That about sums up the situation.” Bit turned slightly so that he could still keep an eye on the rental SUV. He had left his laptop open with programs running in the background. “I already spoke with the supervisory special agent at the Anchorage office. They're pulling agents from two satellite offices and sending another forensics team to Silverton.”
