Aleksander strode back into the hotel room, the group clustered around the glowing holographic victim board—photos of the eight women hovering sharp in amber light.
Oz looked up first, arms crossed. "Okay, so like we figured—he hunts them for hours in the woods, shoots them right before dawn, takes the heads."
Wednesday nodded once, stare fixed on the faces. "Hunter going after human prey. And now we have a name. Peter Brodsky."
Enid shifted closer to the display, frowning. "What I don't get is how he grabs them. Broad daylight, public places. We know these women were all fighters."
Sofia tilted her head at the timelines. "But no one sees anything. No one hears a thing."
Enid kept going. "So maybe they went with him willingly. Because they knew him. Trusted him."
Sofia shook her head. "You trust family. Friends."
Oz pulled up his tablet mid-sentence, fingers flying. "Or a cop. Peter Brodsky. Northeast division uniform. Left the job in '84, then drops off the map. Nothing in the system now."
Sofia nodded quick. "Alright, let's pull reports on suspicious cop behavior from 2005 to 2022. And Brodsky's IAB file."
Aleksander cut in smooth. "Won't help. Brodsky's a dead end."Everyone turned to him. Wednesday's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Aleksander explained."Our killer is meticulous. He planned everything out. No way he'd let his real ID slip that easy. Peter Brodsky's stolen—real guy's probably dead, paralyzed, or in a coma by now."
He tapped his phone and held up the screen. "Peter Brodsky, cop shot in the line of duty 2004. Wheelchair-bound, left town after."
Wednesday muttered low, piecing it. "So the killer stole his identity. Drove around in a police car to grab them."
Aleksander nodded to Oz. "Pretty sure he harassed Janet too. Susan was with her all the time back then—check if she remembers anything about a cop."
Oz grabbed his keys right away. "On it."
Aleksander's phone buzzed then—he glanced down, grin pulling one side of his mouth. "Guys, we got a live one. Woman who reported a cop abduction in 2007."
Wednesday looked over. "A survivor?"
He nodded. "Sofia, you're with me this time. Let's go talk to her."
DeeDee stood on her sagging porch, cigarette dangling from her fingers, smoke curling lazy in the evening air as Aleksander and Sofia walked up.
"He brought me here. Yeah," she said, taking a slow drag.Aleksander caught the flash from her thoughts—wildlife preserve, her own screams ripping through: "Help me!"
She flicked ash, eyes going distant. "I was working at the bar that night, you know, doing a little..." She mimed a quick puff, sly half-smile. "...out in the parking lot. This cop rolls up. Says he's bringing me in for disorderly conduct."
Sofia stepped closer. "Did you get a look at him?"
DeeDee shook her head, exhaling smoke. "I was wasted. Could've been Mickey Mouse for all I knew. Got his name, though. Brodsky something."
Aleksander and Sofia exchanged a quick look. DeeDee snorted. "Lot of good it did me. Cops looked at me like I made the whole thing up."
Sofia stayed steady. "They filed a report?"
DeeDee crushed the butt under her shoe. "They didn't do nothing with it, did they?"
Sofia pressed on. "This cop—Brodsky—gets you in the car. Then what?"
"He starts driving. And driving. Then he stops."
Aleksander saw the rest hit like clips: cop car pulls over at preserve edge. Rifle comes out. Back door swings open. "Get out."
DeeDee in memory, voice shaking. "I didn't see your face, officer. I can't ID you. We can do it in the back seat. Any way you want. I'm real good, I'll be real good. Just don't hurt me, please."
George's voice cold. "Don't act dumb... like an animal."
He holds out his hand. She pleads, "Don't. Please."
George said."Don't and please. They always say those words. Ready to run, Atalanta?"
DeeDee froze right there in the memory. "What did you call me?"
Headlights cut in—second car with a couple inside. She bolts screaming. "Help! Help!" Pushes free, runs. Hunter jumps in his car, peels out.
Sofia broke the silence. "What's Atalanta?"
DeeDee managed a small smile. "Princess Atalanta. Story I heard as a kid. Few years before, I almost got raped—couldn't move, just lay there waiting to die. Then I remembered her, the fastest runner in the land. Gave me the strength to get away."
Aleksander leaned in. "Did you tell anybody else about that?"
She shook her head. "No one. Just me and God. How could he know?"
"No—I mean, did you put it in the police report?"
DeeDee paused, then nodded slow.
Aleksander straightened up. "Let's go. I know who it is now. And how he picks them."
Sofia blinked, following him off the porch. "You know?"
Aleksander called Wednesday, Enid, and Oz to the PD Report room. The group gathered tight in the Report Control Unit, old police reports spread across scarred tables as they pieced the case aloud.Oz leaned over a file, tapping the page. "Like you said, found Peter Brodsky in Butte, Montana. Hasn't set foot in Philly for twenty years. Stuck in a wheelchair since 2004."
Wednesday glanced up from her stack, voice dragging flat. "So someone knew he was out of commission. Took his name."
Sofia turned to Aleksander, eyes sharp. "You said you had an idea who did this. And how he picks them."
Aleksander smiled faint, pulling out the key reports. "Yeah, I do."
All eyes locked on him. He spread the pages—Janet, Tina, DeeDee first. Pointed to Tina's faded text: "...refused to speak with him, he... knocked her to the ground... of riot control tear gas an-... ran to the nearest phone an-... he led him to the place of... completely blinded."
Flipped to Janet's: "...was struck in the face... continued to strike... 'Walking On Sunshine'... until she stumbled into... relates that she begged... too late. Janet says... struck Susan in the..."
Then DeeDee's: "...Ms. COOPER further... lie there waiting to die when she... the princess who ran the fastest i-... 'Princess running, princess running'... away. She grabbed a clock on the... in the head, then ran away... -EELEY #908 WDD arrested the assailant."
Aleksander straightened, meeting their stares. "He's reading these reports."
Oz blinked, connecting. "So he could be a cop. Or has access."
Aleksander turned casual, eyes sliding past them. "Right."
Everyone shifted, followed his gaze. There, in the partitioned file room behind—George Marks, rifling reports calm, back turned like he owned the place.
Aleksander muttered low, just for them. "That's our guy. Saw his memories of the kills before. Needed more proof till now."
Wednesday's stare iced over George's back. Enid tensed. Sofia's hand drifted near her kit.