The nursery was unusually quiet.
Marcus stood beside the handcrafted rocking horse, his gloved hands resting on its polished wooden handles.
The note lay sealed inside an evidence bag.
She’s closer than you think.
He had seen countless threatening messages during his career.
This one was different.
It wasn’t trying to frighten them.
It was trying to tell them something.
Or make them believe something.
“Don’t move it yet,” Marcus said.
The forensic team photographed every inch of the rocking horse.
Its carved mane.
Its leather saddle.
The brass nameplate.
The tiny wheels hidden beneath the rockers.
One of the technicians frowned.
“Detective…”
Marcus walked over.
“What is it?”
The technician pointed to the underside of the horse.
“These screws.”
Marcus knelt.
“What abou
