Page 2 of Haunted By Sin

Before Brook could respond, Stella disappeared into the dense foliage. The leaves rustled and snapped as the girl ran away. She hadn't been very nice. Brook's mother would have scolded Stella for not being kind to others.

Not wanting to get into trouble for being gone from camp for too long, Brook made her way back up the slight incline. She had to grab onto a few branches for leverage, but she finally managed to reach the top without slipping or hopefully rubbing against any poison ivy.

A bright flash of red caught her eye.

There was her frisbee, sitting right at the base of a nearby tree. Brook smiled in victory as she quickly grabbed it. A part of her thought that maybe Stella had hidden the disc on purpose. Some kids weren't nice, and she obviously fell into that category.

"Rude," Brook whispered to herself as she made her way back to camp.

Brook couldn't understand why anyone would think summer camp was a bad place. There were a ton of fun games to play, crackling campfires to sit around in the evening, and gooey s'mores that were delicious. The counselors made everything fun, so maybe Stella was just jealous.

As Brook broke through the tree line, she was greeted by the sight of Sally performing a cartwheel. Before too long, others were following suit and grading one another on their landings. The sounds of laughter once again overtook the area, and everything had gone back to normal. Brook smiled as she ran to join her friends, and the sting of Stella's hurtful words faded away into nothing but a hazy memory.

Chapter Two

Brooklyn Sloane

May 2024

Thursday — 10:08 am

The smooth, steady purr of the SUV's tires created a comforting rhythm against the freshly laid asphalt. The vibrant scenery of the highway was nothing but a blur of mixed greens and blues, framed by the tinted windows that kept the sun's rays at bay. No one could have asked for a more beautiful May day—not too hot to be uncomfortable, but not too cold to require coats.

Unfortunately, the perfect weather brought to mind Stella Bennett and the summer of 1996. The theories surrounding the girl's disappearance were something that Brook could do without this morning.

She glanced toward the map on the infotainment display. According to the directions listed on the left-hand side of the screen, they were still many miles away from their exit. She pressed the cruise control button so that she could stretch her legs.

"Do you think it was a dream or a memory?" Sylvie Deering asked from the passenger side seat. She had exchanged her usual, black-rimmed glasses for a pair of oversized prescription sunglasses. Her blonde hair was pulled back in its usual bun, but some of the strands had escaped to frame the right side of her face. No one would ever have guessed that she had a brush with death three months ago. "I mean, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume you buried a lot of unpleasant memories from back then."

"I wish I knew the answer," Brook responded truthfully as she rubbed her left thigh. She had run for an additional mile during her morning jog before being driven to the airport. She had been distracted by the possible direction the search could go for Stella Bennett's remains. "There is a good chance it was both a dream and a memory. We know that Stella was with her uncle during that summer, and we know their campsite wasn't too far from the location of my summer camp. I could have seen Stella from a distance. I could have spoken to her. Or…my mind is trying to fill in the blanks."

"You would think with what we see on a daily basis that it wouldn't surprise me a boy so young could commit murder." Sylvie closed the lid of her laptop, which she had been using to research their most recent case that had nothing to do with Stella Bennett. The hot spot on Sylvie's phone had provided an adequate signal strength for the most part. "If Stella was Jacob's first victim, he would have only been eleven years old when he killed her."

By all intents and purposes, Jacob Matthew Walsh had been a sweet boy raised by two loving parents in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Before that fateful summer, he had been surrounded by friends, played football, and doted on his baby sister. He had been…normal.

Or so Brook had thought at the time.

The mind was a fickle thing when it came to drawing conclusions, and she wasn't so sure there was any credibility to her memories. The one hard truth Brook couldn't deny was that her brother was a serial killer.

"I spoke to the federal agent leading the grid search, and he's going to concentrate on the campground in the coming weeks." Brook checked her review mirror out of habit. Since it was well past the morning rush hour, there weren't that many vehicles on the highway. "The search team has been focused on the site where Stella's uncle set up camp back then, but what if Jacob somehow managed to drag Stella's body back to a setting where he was most comfortable? It's worth checking out."

Brook noticed immediately when Sylvie straightened her shoulders and rested a hand over her abdomen. It was as if she had suddenly experienced a sharp pain. She hadn't complained once during her recovery, and her most recent doctor appointment had provided her an all-clear for field duty. Such official clearance didn’t mean that Brook wouldn’t keep a close eye on Sylvie in the coming weeks.

"I'm fine, you know," Sylvie muttered in displeasure as she reached for her computer bag behind Brook's seat. "I don't want to be handled with kid gloves, Brook. I'm in better shape now than before the attack."

Brook believed Sylvie's statement to be accurate, but only in the physical sense. Her mental well-being was for another discussion altogether.

There wasn't one aspect of Brook's life that hadn’t been stained by her brother's sins. While Jacob was currently behind bars in federal prison, he had still managed to set plans in motion that would secure his freedom. One of those plans had backfired recently, and Sylvie had been on the receiving end of an attack by one of Jacob's unhinged followers.

For that matter, so had Brook.

She forced herself to stop massaging her left thigh before Sylvie could turn the conversation to Brook's own recovery. The scar tissue was still tender and angry beneath her fingers, and there was no denying that the blade of the knife had severed more nerves than she had originally thought. She still found herself waking up in the middle of the night from the sharp, burning pain, which meant Sylvie experienced the same on a nightly basis...or worse.

The ringing of Brook's phone emanated from the speaker system of the SUV. She had connected her phone to the vehicle's Bluetooth, so she was able to answer with a press of the button on the steering wheel.

"Sloane."

"This is Special Agent Rick Tirelli." The federal agent's deep voice contained a slight Boston accent, but the phone number on the display had a Michigan area code. "Listen, you might want to reschedule your morning plans. There are media vans parked in front of Mary Jane Reynolds' house. Two local, and one national. It wouldn't surprise me if more camera crews are on the way after her video went viral yesterday."

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