Page 7 of Date Night

I let out a shaky breath, reminding myself to focus. I’m here to uncover the truth, to shed light on the darkness that has cast a shadow over this town. I can’t let a broken window distract me. I’ll deal with it later, after we’ve made progress on the documentary. For now, I turn my attention back to the microfilm machine, determined to dive into the past, where answers await just beyond the flickering light.

Within minutes I'm lost again in the world of the date night killer. I make note of some of the newspaper clipping I want to site in the documentary.

"Hey, you good back here?" Braylon sticks his head around the corner, his bright smile dragging me out of my intense focus.

"Yeah. I picked out a few more articles we can use." I gesture to the screen but he doesn't come any closer.

"Cool, I was thinking we could get use some field work. You know get our hands a little dirty?"

The idea of going out and walking in the same footsteps as the date night killer filled me with an excitement I didn't really want to think about. "Yeah, for sure. Let's go!" I hop out of my chair and follow him toward the front of the library.

Pete and Liora are waiting for us there. Liora a bit more excited than the rest of us. I really hope that's not going to be a problem later on.

"Hey, everyone alright?" I ask thinking about the mess that we were in yesterday. The documentary has barely gotten started and the last thing I want is for any of the volunteers to think working with me isn't safe. I need every last one of them if I'm going to make this work.

"Alright? I'm more than alright. Did you see what happened yesterday, this is going to be epic." Liora jumps in place and claps her hands. At little of the ordinary for the usually dark and grumpy teenager.

I can't help but chuckle at her outburst. She sure is a strange cookie.

I quickly go over the plan for the day and we make our way to the transportation that is going to take us over to Lover's Bluff. The extra large van we were able to rent is big enough to hold all of us and our equipment comfortably.

Liora and Pete talk animatedly in the back while I sit in the front with Braylon who is driving toward the location. He's unusually quiet and it just dawned on me that I haven't asked him if he's doing okay with all of this. Digging into the life of a killer is heavy work for anyone.

"Braylon, you're doing okay right?"

"Hmm?" It's obvious he was in his own world. He glances over at me the smile I'm so used to on his face once again.

"Yeah, I'm straight. I was just looking around. It's amazing how some place so small and tight knit could have something like this happen and no one know who the culprit is." He shrugs and I nod my head.

Through out the years the Date Night killer was active, the town was in a complete panic and it makes sense. It's not like this is a bustling city like New York or Los Angeles. This town is a place where everyone knows everyone's name. I guess that made it all the more intriguing to the killer.

It's a perfect day to take some outside shots. It's not too hot and there's hardly any overcast. It'll make for some great pictures.

As we approach Lover's Bluff, the once vibrant spot teeming with laughter and youthful exuberance now feels hauntingly desolate. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows that stretch across the cracked pavement, reminders of a time when this place buzzed with life. I can almost hear echoes of laughter, the thrill of teenage romances unfolding under the stars. Now, it’s eerily quiet, the overgrown grass reclaiming the edges of the old parking lot.

I adjust my camera, the weight of it heavy in my hands as we step closer to the edge of the bluff. The view is breathtaking, but today, it feels overshadowed by the tragedy that has unfolded here. I’m here to capture the scene of another crime, one that has left a community reeling. But as we round the corner, I freeze.

There she is, the mother of one of the victims. Her face is a storm of emotions, anger and grief etched into every line. I hadn’t expected to see her here, and my heart races as I grapple with how to approach her. What can I possibly say?

Braylon steps forward, ever the charmer, and I watch as he navigates the situation with a calm confidence that I admire. “Ma’am,” he says, his voice steady and warm, “I understand this is incredibly difficult. We’re here to honor your daughter’s memory.”

She glares at him, eyes blazing. “Honor? You think taking pictures of this place is honoring her? You’re just exploiting her death.”

I can feel the tension in the air, thick, palpable. Braylon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he takes a step closer, his gaze softening. “I know it might feel that way, but this is about justice. If we don’t keep her story alive, if we don’t highlight what happened here, the killer could slip away into the shadows. Your daughter deserves more than to be forgotten.”

For a moment, I hold my breath, watching the play of emotions across her face. The anger is still there, but I see the flicker of understanding, the painful realization that he might be right. “You think this will help?” she asks, her voice trembling.

Braylon nods, his charm never wavering. “I believe it can. People need to see the truth of what happened. We want to make sure her story is told, that it matters. And that starts with you.”

The mother’s shoulders sag slightly, the fight draining from her as she absorbs his words. I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. Braylon has a way of connecting with people, of finding the right words when it matters most. It’s a gift, and I’m grateful to have him on our team.

“Fine,” she says finally, her voice quieter now, a hint of resignation. “But if you’re going to do this, you better make it count.”

Braylon smiles, the warmth of it genuine. “We will. I promise.”

As I raise my camera, capturing the scene and the raw emotions unfolding before me, I can’t help but feel the weightof what we’re doing. Lover's Bluff, once a place of joy, now a backdrop to heartbreak and justice. The small bluffs that used to cradle laughter now bear witness to sorrow, and as I take the shot, I know that this story won’t be forgotten. Not now, not ever.

"Let's get this started shall we?" I give the camera to Braylon to set up on the tripod and I pull out my pad so I can take my notes.

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