Page 14 of Once Marked
Riley’s words painted an image more vivid than any crime scene photo could.“The perpetrator then dragged her to a waiting vehicle, likely parked right here.”She pointed to a spot by a wall where the asphalt met dirt and debris.
Ann Marie looked at the indicated place, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that crept over her.The spot appeared mundane and ordinary, yet now it was transformed in her mind’s eye into a silent witness to violence.
“Dragged to a vehicle...here?”Ann Marie echoed, seeking clarity in Riley’s theory.Her partner’s method—this uncanny knack for visualizing crimes—never ceased to unnerve her.
“Here,” Riley affirmed, gesturing again to the nondescript patch of alley.“There are signs of a struggle.Not obvious to the untrained eye, but look closer at the patterns, the displacement of dirt, the way these marks abruptly start and stop.”
Ann Marie’s gaze followed the arc of Riley’s hand as she mapped out the unseen journey Billie Shearer had been forced to take.Ann Marie’s mind raced to keep pace with Riley’s deductions, piecing together the fragments of evidence into a coherent narrative.
She observed the ground with renewed attention, trying to align her vision with Riley’s insights.Slowly, she began to discern irregularities she had missed before, subtle disruptions in the dust and grime that told of a violent dance.
“Footprints, signs of a scuffle, maybe even drag marks,” Ann Marie muttered under her breath, piecing together the fragments of evidence.
“Exactly,” Riley acknowledged, her eyes reflecting the gravity of their discovery.
“Perpetrator would’ve needed quick access to the street, minimal visibility from bystanders.This spot is perfect for an ambush,” Riley mused, her eyes tracing invisible lines only she could see.
“Could there be surveillance cameras that caught something?”Ann Marie suggested, scanning the walls of the surrounding buildings.
“Unlikely.They would have checked already, and this area...”Riley’s voice trailed off as she surveyed the alley, “It’s too exposed for someone not to notice cameras.No, our killer knew what they were doing.”
Ann Marie’s eyes followed Sheriff Beeler’s gaze as it played over Riley’s face, searching for some sign of ordinary logic in the extraordinary claim.The sheriff’s brow furrowed, his mouth opened as if to question the very ground beneath their feet.
“Are you sure about this?”Beeler asked, his skepticism giving way to a dawning uncertainty.But Ann Marie had no doubts.She’d seen Riley take leaps of logic before, and each time they’d landed on solid ground.
The air around them seemed charged with the tension of unspoken thoughts, Sheriff Beeler’s confusion clashing silently with Riley’s quiet confidence.Ann Marie felt the pull of her partner’s intuition, the draw of that uncanny ability to see into the shadows where others saw only light.It was a gift that Ann Marie both marveled at and envied – a gift that had solved cases that would have remained mysteries to anyone else.
As Riley continued to paint the picture of Billie’s last known moments alive, Ann Marie felt a rush of admiration.Riley’s words were careful but certain as she described how Billie must have been taken by surprise, overpowered, and then removed from this place of mundane passings-by.Every detail added depth to the scene, turning the alley into a silent witness to an unseen struggle.
As Riley’s voice ebbed and flowed with the cadence of her reasoning, Ann Marie could feel the strength of each conclusion.This was what she had missed – the thrill of seeing unusual skills applied to the chase.A familiar surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins.
But in that moment of heightened awareness, a subtle shift occurred.Ann Marie saw Sheriff Beeler had pulled out his phone, thumb swiping across the screen with a distracted air.His eyes darted across the screen, fixed on a text message with an intensity that drew a tight line between his brows.
Ann Marie’s breath hitched slightly, her focus torn between Riley’s ongoing analysis and the sheriff’s sudden change in demeanor.What could be so important as to draw him away from Riley’s revelatory deductions?Something was up, something beyond the grim facts laid bare on the concrete in front of them.
“Agents,” Beeler’s voice cut through the air, a resigned undertone marring his usual authority.“We’ve got another stop to make.Fair warning - it’s not going to be pleasant.”
CHAPTER SIX
“What’s worse,” Beeler added to his warning, “I’m afraid this trip is going to be a waste of time—time that we don’t have.”With that, he slid his phone back into his pocket, then turned and headed out of the alley, leading the way back toward his cruiser.“But we need to go anyhow.”
Riley shook off the images she was getting from the scuffs in the alley and followed after the Sheriff.“If it’s not urgent …” she ventured.
“Obligatory more than urgent,” Beeler replied with a shake of his head.His voice held the tired edge of a man who’d fielded one too many calls.“I’m sure you’ve dealt with similar situations.”
Ann Marie caught up with them just as the Sheriff continued his explanation.
“The text I just got was from Sylvia Sitwell.She’s the Director of the Outer Banks Tourists Office in Teomoc and she wants updates—right now and in person.”
Riley nodded, understanding the delicate balance between keeping the public informed and releasing a story that could cause unnecessary panic.
“Sitwell’s been hounding me since we found the first body,” Beeler confessed, his grip tight on the steering wheel.“I’ve been putting her off, but if we don’t talk to her in person, there’s no telling what kind of misinformation she might put out.Probably anything she can think of to play down any danger to the public.”
They all reached the cruiser and climbed in.Riley’s mind was awhirl with the details of the case as the cruiser cut through the coastal air, heading back to Teomoc.
As they passed over the now-familiar bridge onto Teomoc Island, she thought about the two victims, each adorned in swimwear from different earlier times, as if the killer were curating a macabre museum exhibit.
“Sheriff Beeler,” she asked, “do you have any leads on where those vintage swimsuits might’ve come from?”
