All Chapters of The Full Moon Murders : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Evelyn’s breath was steady as she walked away, but her mind was racing. Nathan’s words cut deeper than she cared to admit, but she wouldn’t let it break her. If anything, it fueled her resolve.She couldn’t do this alone. Not anymore.Instead of heading home, she drove straight to a small bar on the outskirts of town, knowing that was her hiding spot. It was the kind of place where people went to be forgotten, where secrets hung in the air like cigarette smoke. She walked in, scanning the room until she found who she was looking for.Mason DeLuca.Former journalist, now an off-the-grid investigator with a reputation for uncovering things that were meant to stay buried. He owed her a favor, and tonight, she was cashing in.Mason raised an eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from him. “Well, well. If it isn’t Detective Cross. You look like hell.”Evelyn didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She pulled out the flash drive and set it on the table between them. “I need this decrypted.

Evelyn didn’t sleep that night.She sat by the motel window, lights dimmed, watching headlights flash by like ghosts. The arrest was done. Cole was gone. But the victory tasted like ash.Mason was quiet behind her, typing on his laptop, the glow painting his face in cold light. Evelyn’s mind was a storm. Every thread she’d pulled had led to this point—but the knot was still tightening.“I can't stop thinking about what Harris said,” she murmured. “About Vaughn… about them.”Mason didn’t look up. “Government-sanctioned murder squads tend to keep people up at night.”She turned, eyes hard. “He’s not just cleaning the house. He’s planning something.”Mason’s fingers froze on the keyboard.“What is it?” she asked.“I just found the guest list for Vaughn’s fundraiser,” he said, spinning the laptop around.Evelyn scanned the screen. Senators. CEOs. Military brass. Judges. Half the city's power grid is in one room.“Jesus.”“It’s not a party,” Mason said. “It’s a show of force.”Evelyn’s voi

The door didn’t open. Not right away.The voice was gone, but the pressure wasn’t. It hung in the room like smoke—thick, cloying, invisible but real.Jamie was breathing fast, still gripping Evelyn’s wrist. Mason moved to the window and cracked it open a sliver, gun raised.“She’s not alone,” he said. “Footprints. More than one set.”Evelyn pulled free and crept to the peephole.Empty.Too empty.She opened the door fast.Nothing.No one is on the steps. No shadows on the street. Just the moon, too full, too close, casting everything in silver.But something had been here. She could feel it.A whisper curled up her spine. Not sound. Not quite. More like... recognition.She stepped outside.“Evelyn,” Mason warned, “don’t—”But she was already moving.Down the steps. Into the alley. The air felt thick, almost humid despite the cold. Like the city was holding its breath.There—at the end of the alley.A smear on the brick.Charcoal. Like in the cabin.But this time, it wasn’t a symbol. I

The Redbrook Medical Institute looked exactly like a place people were meant to forget.The parking lot was cracked and overgrown. The building itself sat hunched behind a rusting chain-link fence, and the sign out front faded to a ghost of its name. No lights. No sound. Just a building that had been shut down for a decade—officially, anyway.Evelyn stood next to Anika, hands in her coat pockets. The wind was biting. Her breath fogged."This place doesn’t exist on any of the current records,” Anika said, glancing down at the tablet in her hand. “No funding. No activity. But it used to be owned by a company tied to the Cartwrights’ old holdings.”“Of course it was,” Evelyn muttered.Mason pulled up in an unmarked sedan and stepped out, his eyes already on the building. “There’s no security, no cameras, no working power grid—at least not legally. I walked the perimeter. The place should be dead.”“But it’s not,” Evelyn said quietly.He didn’t argue.They didn’t break in—they didn’t need

They left before dawn.The sky was slate gray, clouds low and thick like something was pressing down on the world. Evelyn sat in the passenger seat of the blacked-out SUV, the map burned into her memory. Emily rode behind her, silent but alert. Mason drove. Anika was in the second vehicle behind them, following at a distance with their backup gear and a sat-link jammer.The forest swallowed them whole as they veered off the last known trail.No signs. No roads. No birdsong.Only the crunch of tires over frostbitten ground and the slow, creeping feeling that they were being watched.Ashgrove wasn’t a place—it was a perimeter.A ring of hidden surveillance, pressure sensors, and sound-dampening tech buried under years of moss and leaves. Caroline’s notes had mentioned something called Project Fenrir, and the closer they got, the more real it became.“Eyes up,” Mason muttered. “We’re about to cross the outer line.”Evelyn checked her watch.Exactly 5:23 a.m.Right on time.The SUV stoppe