Page 25 of Once Silenced

“You know,” she added, “this could mean we’re looking for more than one killer, considering the time span these murders cover.And there’s no doubt about their obsession with math—with mathematicians even.It’s peculiar, could definitely help us narrow down the suspect base.”

Riley’s gaze was distant, the toll of the day etched in the lines around her eyes.

“Um, Riley,” Ann Marie said cautiously.“I get the feeling that this is no ordinary case for you.”

Riley looked at her with slight surprise.

“That’s very astute of you, Ann Marie,” she said, obviously meaning it.“As a matter of fact, it’s highly personal.You see, Margaret Whitfield was my favorite teacher in high school.She molded me in more ways than I can count.That’s why I insisted on getting assigned to this case.I just couldn’t stay out of it.”

Riley squinted, and her face tightened with suppressed anger.

“We’ve got to find Mrs.Whitfield’s killer, Ann Marie,” she said.“We’ve just got to.”

Ann Marie felt deeply touched at Riley’s show of personal vulnerability.

“And we will, Riley,” she said.“I promise to help you make that happen.”

Riley looked at her again, and this time she smiled.

“Meanwhile, let’s not forget to look after ourselves,” Riley said, the softness in her tone belying the steel within.“We need to eat, regroup.I don’t know about you, but a shower and some sleep wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Of course, I should go check in to a room,” Ann Marie said.

“You might as well take the extra bed.We can sort that out with the office in the morning.”

“Food then.What are you in the mood for?Pizza, Chinese?”

“Anything’s fine,” Riley replied, standing up and stretching the weariness from her limbs.“A hamburger will do.”

“Got it.Burger it is,” Ann Marie affirmed with a brisk nod, already reaching for her phone to order.She watched as Riley retreated towards the bathroom, an embodiment of strength and investigative brilliance moving to wash away the grime of the day’s work.

As the call connected and Ann Marie placed the order, she felt something akin to camaraderie.Riley Paige, with her personal battles and relentless pursuits, was both enigma and mentor to her.Despite the grim nature of their task, there was comfort in shared purpose.Tonight, they were two agents seeking sustenance, readying themselves for tomorrow.

She selected a local diner with an online reputation for its juicy burgers and efficient delivery—simple and straightforward, just like Riley wanted.With the order confirmed, Ann Marie set the phone down and allowed herself a moment to absorb the silence of the room, punctuated only by the faint hum of the motel’s aging air conditioner.

A night charged with the energy of an impending storm lay ahead, and Ann Marie felt its electricity in the air.There was no denying the rush that came with the chase, the puzzle pieces fitting together one by one, leading them deeper into the mind of a killer obsessed with mathematical precision.

*

Robert Nash leaned back in his chair.The cone of light from the desk lamp cast a warm halo over his work area, illuminating the papers strewn across the desk, each one scrawled with equations and theorem proofs.This room was his haven, a place of ordered thought where the chaos of the outside world couldn’t reach.

The walls, lined with shelves heavy with academic journals, seemed to nod in silent approval of his lifelong dedication.Here, among these quiet companions, Robert felt content.It was an unspoken conversation between him and the great mathematical minds that had come before, their theories and conjectures living on in the musty scent of aged paper.

Reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, he reached for the next stack of assignments.They were not the work of his own students, but rather those of Cliff Baird, a neighbor and protégé, now a high school teacher who still looked to him for guidance.Robert’s red pen moved across the pages, noting critique and approval in equal measure.

To Robert, grading these papers was not simply a favor for a former student; it was a reaffirmation of his identity.Mathematics had been his first true love, and even now, it bound him to the world.The rhythm of his pen was a heartbeat, steady and reassuring in its consistency.

The gentle hum of the television filtered into Robert’s awareness, punctuated by bursts of laughter from Louella.She was watching one of those new comedies—the kind that seemed to bridge generational gaps with ease.

“Robert,” her voice called out, tinged with a warmth that could melt the chill of any evening, “why don’t you join me?This show is hilarious!”

“I’ll be just a little longer, dear,” he replied.

The laughter from the other room was a reminder of the world outside his calculations, the everyday joys he too often set aside for numbers and theories.He looked forward to turning his attention to her in a little while, maintaining a balance between his lifelong passion and the presence of the woman who shared his life—and his heart.

A deep sense of fulfillment settled in his chest, knowing that each red mark on these papers would be guiding Cliff, and all those who had sat in his classroom, toward their own eureka moments.This was his legacy—not in the books that lined his shelves, but in the wisdom imparted to eager learners whose faces now flickered across his memory.

He missed the classroom, the direct impact of shaping keen minds ready to explore the vast landscapes of mathematics.

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