"Dig deeper," Debra said. "Track every move he's made. He's not slick enough to fake his records."
Liza nodded. "On it."
Debra sank into the couch. "Three days, max, and Stanley's done. Then we can breathe."
Fermin frowned. "You sure he can't make any waves?"
"He doesn't have that kind of brain," she replied. "These past two days were tough because the spreading chains were extensive. Schools, dive bars, and motels."
The biggest effort they had put into the investigation had been tracking down the source. And in just two days, they managed to trace the origin of the transmission route back to Stanley.
It proved his stupidity.
If he had been smarter, he would have created a fake identity for himself. He was still a reckless idiot as he was 20 years ago.
Someone like him couldn't make any waves.
"Already on it," Marion said. "He'll ping us soon."
Their phones soon lit up with the coordinates, but their faces dropped.
"Seamar City High?" Debra felt ice in her veins, worried about Lillian and Solomon's safety.
She hadn't expected Stanley to lurk at school all these years.

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