Patterns in the shadow
700 Words
Rain slid down the windows of Levi’s apartment like veins branching across glass. He barely noticed. His attention was fixed on the wall ahead, littered with pinned photographs, victim profiles, red yarn connecting names, places, and dates. What started as a quiet favour to Jessie had become an obsession. A dangerous one.
She had asked him to dig, to quietly investigate the string of copycat murders. Jessie never said who she suspected—but Levi didn’t need to be told. The killer had left seven bodies in four months. All of them bore Jessie’s signature: surgical cuts, immaculate scenes, and that one word stitched into the flesh—GUILTY.
But Jessie swore they weren’t hers.
And Levi believed her.
The deeper he dug, the clearer the truth became: these kills were theatrical. Loud. Craving attention. Jessie was surgical, quiet, and purposeful. This killer wanted to be seen.
The first few nights, he combed through victim connections—criminal records, history of abuse, involvement in trafficking, assault, or corruption. Everyone on the list had skeletons. Some even had public accusations. But there was no direct link between them.
Until Levi changed his angle.
He stopped looking at the victims—and started looking at the crime scenes. Who was there? Who processed what? Who accessed the evidence?
That’s when the same name kept surfacing.
Aaron Cole.
New to the department, but quickly rising. Young, charismatic. A behavioural analyst with a spotless record, and a reputation for insight that bordered on uncanny. He always seemed to know what the killer might do next.
And Levi now understood why.
He wasn’t chasing the killer.
He was the killer.
Levi’s chest tightened. The pattern was subtle, almost invisible. Aaron had been physically present at three of the crime scenes—nothing suspicious on paper. But cross-reference that with his digital access logs, and a picture started to form.
Aaron had pulled data on every case within twenty-four hours of the murder. Not just open files—raw evidence logs, forensics entries, and even pre-report body photos. At times, he accessed this before it had even been logged in officially.
He was careful. So careful that it took Levi nearly two weeks to spot the rhythm.
But now that he saw it—he couldn’t unsee it.
Aaron was writing his profiles. Leaving just enough of himself in the data to point investigators in the wrong direction. Always staying one step ahead. Always managing the perception.
That’s what made Levi sick to his stomach.
As a behavioural analyst, Aaron understood more than just motive—he understood process. He knew how cops thought, how analysts worked, how Jessie moved. He was building a psychological firewall around himself.
And no one suspected him.
Not even Jessie.
Levi stared at the corkboard, heart pounding. There was no proof yet. No smoking gun. Just a thread of digital footprints and a sickening gut feeling.
He sat back, his hand trembling as he removed his glasses and rubbed his face. He wanted to call Jessie. To tell her everything. But something stopped him.
If Aaron is the copycat… he might be watching her too.
Jessie was no fool, but she was still part of the department. Still vulnerable. And if Aaron had any inkling she suspected him—or that Levi was working behind the scenes—it could put her in danger.
No. He had to be smart.
He had to finish this investigation alone.
He pulled a small, encrypted flash drive from the drawer and began transferring his notes, copies of the logs, and everything he’d compiled so far. He’d stash it at his off-site lockbox just in case anything happened to him. Paranoia or not, he’d learned the hard way that even the truth could disappear if left in the wrong hands.
He glanced at the crime board one last time. One of the strings had come loose and dangled limply over Aaron’s ID photo. Levi stared into the man’s eyes. Cold. Calculated. Masked by charm.
He didn’t know how much time he had.
But he knew this: Aaron Cole wasn’t just dangerous.
He was hunting.
And Levi was the only one who saw him coming.
- Writer
