[BOOK 3]
"And suddenly life wasn't about living, it was about surviving"
Just when they think their lives are finally back to normal, everything suddenly springs back into action and the two best friends spend the rest of their juni...
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The weekend was coming to it's inevitable end. Lexie and Lydia had been at the lakehouse the whole time, the latter sticking to the record and replaying it over and over but not getting any luck. Lexie on the other hand was smart enough to take a look around. If something in their grandmother's house broke the code, then there must've been something else. But unfortunately there wasn't and when night fell, she was dragged away by Stiles.
All so she could sit in his room and watch as he had no luck figuring it out either. After getting slightly comfortable so they could do some mystery solving, she turned to him in his Number 24 Lacrosse jersey and nodded. It was time. He pulled up his transparent board, cracked his knuckles and prepared a pint of coffee. They were about to be up all night trying their best to just figure it out.
"So, the Walcott's were the first, right? At least the first that we know about. Four murders. Sean, his brother, and their parents." Stiles slams their photos down on the desk in front of the girl, she nodded before examining them carefully, wondering if she could get anything from just looking at them. But with a shake of her head, Stiles took them and taped them to the board, writing their names in black marker before carefully applying red tape.
"They were killed by an assassin. You said he had no mouth?" the redhead questioned, relocating to perch on his bed, one leg folded beneath her as she used the other to support the police file in her hands.
"Yeah, they call him the Mute. Weapon of choice, a military tomahawk." Stiles answered, pinning up a picture of the weapon he had used to kill the Walcott's. Also the one that he had aimed right at Peter Hale's chest, "But then The Mute was killed by Peter Hale after he tried to blow up Derek with a Claymore mine."
"Doesn't shock me in the slightest," the girl mused,
Stiles taped up another photo, this time of a body with no head. One they had found right outside the Lakehouse the other night. "Next was Demarco. He delivered a keg to the party. And got decapitated outside his car. And then last night, 23-year-old Carrie Hudson." another picture went up on the board. Lexie slurped back her coffee before getting to her feet quickly and standing in front of the board.
The picture of Carrie showed that she had stab marks in her chest, a weird hexagonal outline dug around it. Lexie's brows furrowed, then she looked at another picture, a bloody handprint on the school sign. That couldn't be coincidental.
"Stiles, this means one thing."
"What?" Stiles rubbed at his eyes before falling back in his desk chair and sipping at his coffee. Lexie stood there examining the board thoroughly before turning around and facing him,
"Whoever killed Demarco must've been at the party, right? Everyone knows he delivers to underage kids for a little extra cash. So they probably lured him there. And then Callie at the school. Forensics say they found her DNA on multiple school buses this morning but she doesn't even go to school."
