"Okay," Nicky said. "I'm gonna keep looking over the case files."

  She sat on the bed and opened up the files on Amanda and Daisy as Ken disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, Nicky heard the shower turn on.

  Focusing on the case would help distract her from the pull of attraction toward Ken. Focus, Nicky...

  They had two girls now. Two victims. What did they have in common?

  Nicky started with Amanda.

  She was twenty-one, came from a rich family, and was a bit of an actress herself. However, Amanda had barely performed at all--according to the notes, she was often too shy to perform, but the night she'd disappeared had been her opening night. A friend had convinced her that she needed to start acting, and she'd landed a lead role.

  Daisy, on the other hand, was twenty-three, and lived and breathed acting. Daisy, unlike Amanda, had performed on many stages and had no fear of the audience. Daisy also came from a low socioeconomic background--it was noted in her file that she had grown up in poverty, and got her first job when she was sixteen so she could support herself.

  Both girls were Caucasian, but Amanda had dark hair and Daisy was blonde. They looked nothing alike physically--Amanda was tall and sporty, while Daisy was tiny and frail. As far as Nicky could see, all they had in common was that they had both held an interest in acting, which made sense as they were both taken from similar types of festivals that would draw in that type of crowd.

  As Nicky read, her eyelids grew heavy. She could barely hold a sentence without nearly passing out--and she knew she needed rest. She couldn't solve this case with a hazy mind. As much as it pained her, she set the files aside--she would return to them in the morning.

  She got into her bed and pulled the covers over her, then turned off the lamp, just as she heard Ken's shower turn off. Moments later, Ken emerged from the bathroom, also wearing a robe.

  "Hey," Nicky said, turning her head toward him.

  "Hey yourself," he said.

  "Are you going to sleep?" She looked at him, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. She knew he'd been keeping an eye on her, but he hadn't done anything.

  "Yeah," Ken said. He moved across the room and found his bed, which was a good few feet away from Nicky's. He got under his own covers. While they weren't in the same bed, Nicky couldn't help but feel like they were so close.

  Part of her wanted to say something...

  What are we now?

  But she couldn't. She wasn't sure what she even wanted. She had feelings for Ken, and that scared her.

  "Nicky?" Ken's voice cut into the darkness.

  Nicky looked over to see him staring up at the ceiling, a hand behind his head.

  "Yeah?"

  He looked at her and smiled. "Just... sleep well tonight, okay? We're gonna solve this thing."

  Nicky's heart fluttered at his words. "You got it."

  She turned away and closed her eyes. The room was silent, save for the sound of a TV below.

  A few minutes passed and Nicky was not only asleep, but dreaming...

  She and Ken were standing on a stage, in front of a group of people. They were all dressed in tuxedos and gowns, and they were clapping.

  Nicky looked down at herself--she was wearing a long white wedding dress. But she also had a dress on underneath...

  She looked back at Ken, who was dressed in a sharp suit. He looked deeply into her eyes--he knew what she was thinking.

  "I can't do this," she whispered, breaking the eye contact.

  "Yes, you can," Ken said. His voice was soft, but she could hear the confidence in it.

  "No, I can't!" she said, louder now. "You don't understand!"

  "I do!" Ken insisted, his eyes burning into her. "I do, Nicky. I know what you're afraid of."

  "No--"

  "Yes," Ken insisted. "You're afraid to tell me how you feel. You're afraid of commitment. You're afraid of... you're afraid of marrying someone like your father."

  Nicky's stomach twisted.

  He was right. She was terrified. She couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her, the way he held himself, the way he didn't say a word. Did she really want to be with him?

  How could she know?

  "Marry me, Nicky," Ken said, coming closer.

  Nicky realized now that there were more people than ever. Everyone was watching.

  "Do it, Nicky!" they chanted. "Stay forever, Nicky!"

  "No," she said, panicking, backing away. Blackness took over Ken's eyes as he came at her with his arms open. "No!" she screamed.

  Nicky awoke with a start. Moonlight seeped in through the windows, and the hotel room was completely still. Sweaty, she glanced over to see Ken was sound asleep. Nicky relaxed on the bed.

  What an awful dream. Was she really that afraid of commitment?

  Her mind had showed her a creepy, exaggerated image. Marriage. Nicky had never even considered it. She and Ken had also never even kissed. Maybe she was scared of commitment--but her mind was moving too fast.

  I can take it slow, she reasoned. I can take it slow with him.

  But there was still the voice in her mind reminding her that she'd tried to take it slow before, and it had never worked.

  Nicky had never really dated. She'd never truly been in love. The thought scared her. Maybe her subconscious was right--maybe the idea of love, and family, and marriage, was all too tainted by her upbringing.

  She'd be better off alone...

  But she hated the idea of being away from Ken, too.

  Frustrated, Nicky tried to go back to sleep, fully knowing that her issues with commitment went a lot deeper than she'd even realized.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The morning came too slowly. Nicky sat at the table in the hotel room while Ken was out grabbing breakfast, her laptop open with all the files in front of her. It was barely past six a.m., but Nicky felt like she'd been hit by a bag of bricks--she'd slept terribly, especially after that strange dream. It made being around Ken all the more awkward.

  She focused on the files, picking back up where she'd left off last night--the differences and similarities between Amanda Smith and Daisy Finn. But still, Nicky wasn't seeing much.

  The door opened, and Ken came in holding a tray of coffee and a bag of food.

  "Thought you could use this," Ken said. "You looked tired."

  "Yeah..."

  "Are you okay?" Ken asked, setting the tray on the table.

  "Yeah, fine," Nicky said. "Just a bad night, is all."

  "Well, I hope breakfast makes you feel a little better."

  "I hope so," Nicky said, picking up a cup of coffee.

  "So... um... where are you in the case?" Ken asked.

  "Not sure," Nicky said. "I mean, I still have a lot of information to sift through, and I don't know if I'm even looking in the right places. I don't have a good angle yet."

  "Yeah, I know what you mean," Ken said. "I'm just trying to get a feel for what happened to these girls. I thought about it when I was out, and... I don't know. I might be putting too much pressure on myself to really find anything."

  "Don't worry about it," Nicky said, leaning forward. "I know it's not our fault. We can't control what the killer is going to do, how they're going to act next. We just need to find him."

  Ken sat down and opened up a breakfast sandwich, handing it to Nicky, then started eating his own. Nicky took a bite, savoring the egg and sausage, then refocused on the files.

  "I was trying to see what connection I could find between the two girls," she said.

  "Anything?" Ken asked, taking a sip of coffee.

  "I mean, the settings are obviously the same. Both girls were actresses to some degree--Amanda had just done her first role, while Daisy is a seasoned actress, but... that's really all I can see. They're from different socioeconomic backgrounds. They look different. They're both young, but not the exact same age. It seems like he goes to these festivals and picks someone."

  "So, there might not be a connection between the victims at all," Ken said.

  "Not necessarily." Nicky thought back on everything they'd learned so far. She remembered what Francis, Daisy's manager, had said: that Daisy hated performing in tragedies, but that was because she was always cast in them.

  Nicky had been looking deep into what could connect the victims, but she wondered... could it be something more?

  An idea struck her. She began typing fast on the computer.

  "I know that look," Ken said. "What are you thinking?"

  "One second," Nicky said, hyper focused on the screen. She pulled up the details on Amanda's kidnapping.

  Six months ago. January 12th. That night, there had been a play... a play Amanda had been in.

  Nicky pulled up the details on the play, coming up with a flier for the event. It was a colorful, circus-esque poster.

  The play Amanda was set to be in was called Summer's Dream.

  That sounded familiar...

  "Ken," Nicky said. "What was the name of the play yesterday? The one Amanda was found during?"

  "Uh, let me see." Ken did some searching on his own laptop. "Summer's Dream?"

  "Shit," Nicky said, her heart racing. "It's the same play Amanda was in the night she went missing."

  Ken took a moment, his brow furrowing. "The same play, really? But the festivals were totally different--in different towns, run by different organizations."

  Nicky kept typing, bringing up the article for Summer's Dream online. "This play is surprisingly popular," Nicky said. "It was written by a playwright named Edward Fitzgerald in the 1800s, and it's popular in theater groups as being Shakespearian without being as mainstream or cliché."

  Nicky kept reading the synopsis of the play. In the end, a young girl--Mirabel--dies tragically. Mirabel would be the role Daisy was going to play.

  Nicky went back to her other tab, which had open details on the play from January 12th. She scrolled down until she saw the full cast list...

  Mirabel. Played by Amanda Smith.

  Nicky's heart stalled. "Ken, holy shit. Both Amanda and Daisy were cast in the same role in the play."

  "What the hell?" Ken said.

  This was it. The connection. But what did it mean? Could it be some sort of crazed superfan of the character or the play in general? Why choose the girl who played Mirabel?

  "There has to be more to this," Nicky said. "Let's run down this lead. Keep looking online, see if you can find anything that might point us to who's doing this. A superfan, someone obsessed with the play, someone who goes to every showing across Florida... anyone like that," Nicky finished.

  Ken nodded. "I'm on it."

  With that, they both fell into silence, continuing their research.

  She went deep into the online fan forums, looking for anyone who talked about the play in detail.

  She kept finding the same thing--thousands of fans of the play, but nothing that truly stood out as interesting. She tried focusing on anyone who might have been raving about local festivals, but the possibilities were endless. They couldn't just accuse any random person of this heinous crime; they needed a reason. Something, anything, to go off. But how could Nicky narrow down one person in an endless sea on the internet? She needed to switch her tactics. She needed to look at the events for what they were. So, she decided to go back to January 12th, the night Amanda disappeared, and see if she could come up with anything there.

  The festival Amanda had been taken from was a local one that was held in the town annually for the new year. The Florida beach would stay warm, and the main event of the festival was the rides, but they held plays too. It was very different from Swamp Arts, as Swamp Arts focused on theater and plays. But either way, both had shown the play Summer's Dream.

  Nicky started digging into the details of Amanda's kidnapping, pulling up the article she'd already read.

  The festival had been packed. Too packed. After her play, Amanda had spent the evening hanging out and having fun with her friends--until they went on the Ferris wheel, leaving her behind. These things Nicky knew. She imagined the kidnapper slipping into the festival--there were so many people there that it must have been easy for him to snatch Amanda away from the chaos.

  She went back to the search engine and typed in more about the festival. And that was when a strange article caught her eye.

  The title: WOMAN ATTACKS PLAY DIRECTOR.

  Nicky opened up the article and read through it. Apparently, back in December, while the play was still being cast, a woman had tried out for the role and was rejected.

  Nicky's palms grew sweaty. She kept reading.

  It said: The role of Mirabel was awarded to Amanda Smith--it will be her breakout role. But Director Greg Green says not everyone was happy about his choice.

  After leaving rehearsals one night, Green was assaulted by an unknown woman--a woman he later identified as someone who had auditioned for the role Smith had landed.

  "She was livid," Green told a local tabloid. "She was ranting and raving about how I took the role from her and that there was no way she could live with that. She called me a damn fool, and said that she would get the role back one way or another."

  The woman had threatened to kill him, and when police arrived, it was too late. She had vanished into the night.

  The article went on to say that the woman had been violent and had thrown punches, breaking his nose.

  Nicky's jaw dropped. This was definitely a possibility. She kept reading.

  Green had attempted to press charges, but it had taken some time for authorities to locate the woman, who was later identified as Deloris Pond.

  Nicky kept scrolling, until an image appeared on the screen that made her blood run cold.

  A mugshot of "Deloris Pond."

  But Nicky didn't know this person to be Deloris at all. That black hair, that sallow face...

  It was Rebecca.

  "Ken," Nicky said, her throat tight.

  She couldn't believe it. Rebecca. The strange, disheveled woman who had claimed to see Amanda.

  She had been there the night Amanda disappeared.

  She had been jealous of Amanda's role.

  And now, she was also here the day Daisy disappeared.

  Ken came over to Nicky and looked over her shoulder. "What the--holy shit, Nicky, that's--"

  Nicky slammed her laptop shut and stood. "Rebecca. We need to find Rebecca."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Nicky drove down the main street of Vitaly Beach with Ken in the passenger seat--and Grace talking on the phone in her ear.

  "Deloris doesn't have an address in Vitaly," Grace said, and Nicky gritted her teeth. Of course, she didn't. "In fact," Grace continued, "she doesn't have an address anywhere."

  "So, what, she's a nomad?" Nicky asked, focused on the road. They were driving back to the festival area, because even though there would be no more showings after the incident--it was the last place Rebecca--or Deloris--was seen. Maybe she'd be sniffing around again.

  "Actually," Grace said into the phone, "you won't believe this."

  Nicky glanced at Ken, who wore a stern and serious expression.

  "This lady--she's an actress, and she was traveling with Daisy's troupe."

  "What?"

  Nicky's head was spinning. Jesus. If that was the case, then this was even more layered than Nicky had realized. She hadn't sorted out all the details yet--for one, if Deloris/Rebecca was traveling with the troupe, how did she hide Amanda? Maybe she had her own tour bus or camper of sorts.

  More questions racked her brain. Why would she make the call if she was guilty? Was it all for attention? And was that the real reason why she ran when she saw them the other day—because she knew she was guilty, and she thought they might already know?

  Nicky wasn’t sure, but what she did know was that this woman had serious questions to answer.

  "Deloris isn't on any of the promotional material," Grace said, "but she is credited for being on the staff."

  "Any license plate registered to Deloris?" Nicky asked.

  "None," Grace said. "I just found her on the website for the troupe. I can't find anything on who she travels with or how she gets around, at least not yet."

  "Thanks, Grace," Nicky said. "Let me know if you find anything else."

  With that, Nicky hung up. They were just getting to the beach parking lot now, and the festival grounds appeared, looking haunted in the daylight, barred off by caution tape.

  "Jesus," Ken said, breaking the silence.

  "The actors and their staff should still be around," Nicky said. "Apparently some of them come in via boat, while others drive. Maybe someone knows where Rebecca--or Deloris--is."

  "I hope," Ken said, his face hard. "Because if she hurt Daisy..."

  Nicky's heart clenched at Ken's words. She couldn't let anything happen to Daisy. She had to find her.

  As they approached the festival grounds, they could see the police tape, but there were still lots of cars parked around--and Nicky saw the tour buses and the cabins, but she didn't see Rebecca.

  She parked the car but left her laptop. She'd memorized the article about Rebecca--she didn't need the picture anymore. She knew the woman's face.

  "Come on," Nicky said, turning off the ignition. "Let's go."

  They entered the area of the parking lot closest to the beach, where the actors and staff had parked, and walked around the cars, looking for anything that stood out.

  Nicky looked on either side of her, at the small groups of people, at the actors and staff milling about, as well as new police officers who were here to ask questions again. Nicky appreciated their work, although nothing substantial had come in yet. She saw two actors who she recognized from the play, Daisy's co-stars, but she didn't see any of the other actors who had been in the troupe.

  Then, she heard a voice.

  "Hey!"

  She turned, and there was Kara, the actress who Nicky had talked to previously.

  "Kara," Nicky said. "I'm glad you're still here."

  "Of course," Kara said. "We've all been ordered by the police not to leave town... have you found Daisy?"

  "I'm afraid not," Nicky said. "Unfortunately, it seems that Daisy was taken by the same man who killed the woman yesterday."

 

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