Page 20 of Once Marked
“Will do,” Sam assured her before they ended the call.
The line went dead, and Riley pocketed her phone.
“So, we have two victims,” Ann Marie reiterated, her blonde hair ruffling in the ocean breeze.Her blue eyes were sharp, reflecting a mind that was always working, evaluating.“Both received anonymous emails with photos of themselves.And now we know that Marcus Callahan was behind at least one set of these emails.”
Sheriff Beeler shuffled beside them, his eyes fixed on the ground as if searching for answers in the grains of sand.
“Yes, Callahan,” he muttered.“This could be his doing.A guy like him could have moved beyond words and stalking from a distance.With these types it’s never just about emails or teasing.It’s about control.”
Control—the word resonated with Riley.Control was what killers craved, what they exerted over their victims to compensate for their own inadequacies.Maybe Callahan, if he was indeed their man, had lost control once too often.
“It seems likely he sent both sets of emails.The question is, did he escalate from stalking to murder?”Riley’s voice cut through the coastal air.
“I hate to say it, but it could fit his pattern of behavior,” Beeler admitted.“Callahan’s always had a problem with women who reject him or stand up to him.I don’t imagine he’s improved recently.”
“Then it sounds like it’s time to bring him in,” Ann Marie said.
Beeler raised a hand.“It might not be that simple.Callahan’s got a network of supporters up and down the islands.A bunch of ‘good old boys’ who share his...views on women.They might try to warn him or even help him evade arrest.”
Riley’s heart sank.She had run into that kind of tight-knit community, woven together by loyalties and secrets.If Callahan was tipped off, they could lose him in the labyrinth of local sympathies.It would take more than just a warrant to reel him in—it would take precision and perhaps a touch of subterfuge.
“All the more reason to move quickly,” she stated, her voice cutting through the stillness of the beach.“We can’t give him time to disappear.”
Beeler nodded.“You’re right.We need to head to Sandhaven right now.But we’ll need to be careful about it.If word gets out that we’re coming for Callahan, this could turn ugly fast.”
“Ann Marie, can you work with Sam to monitor any chatter among Callahan’s contacts?”Riley asked, her grey-streaked hair fluttering in the seaside breeze.“We need to know if he gets wind of us.”
“Of course,” Ann Marie replied quickly, tapping on her phone to draft a message to their tech analyst back at Quantico.
“Let’s get moving.We know that time isn’t on our side,” Beeler grumbled, leading the way back around the sand dunes towards his patrol car parked at the edge of the road.
The trek to the sheriff’s SUV was short, but Riley’s mind traversed miles of possibilities.In spite of the clarity of evidence, a whisper of doubt lingered, suggesting that not all was as it seemed.She took out her cellphone and studied the now-familiar photos of those two dead women posed postmortem on beach chairs dressed in vintage swimwear.
She couldn’t square her sense of the killer as being a man at all, perhaps especially not one prone to uncouth behavior toward women.But her intuitions hadn’t brought her anything solid enough to suggest that they investigate some other direction.
As they reached the car, Riley turned to the sheriff, “Sheriff Beeler, we’ll depend on your insight to approach this without setting off alarms.”
“Let’s keep a low profile,” Beeler suggested.“No sirens, no fanfare.We slip into town quietly.Our first stop will be the police station.Chief Thorne will be glad to assist us.He’s had trouble of his own with Callahan.”
Riley appreciated the tactic; stealth was essential when dealing with a suspect like Callahan, someone who might vanish into the wind at the first hint of trouble.As she settled into the passenger seat, she braced herself for the confrontation ahead.
As they drove southward, the Outer Banks’ panorama unfolded—a vast, serene backdrop to a storm brewing within Riley.She thought of the victims, their strength and ambition snuffed out in a moment of violence.Could the man they were pursuing have snatched away those lives in a fit of rejection-fueled rage?Or was she overlooking an essential piece of this puzzle?If she was wrong about the killer being a woman, what else might she have missed?
The drive was uneventful, a quiet prelude to what could be a storm of resistance.As they neared Sandhaven, Riley’s phone buzzed.She pulled it from her pocket and saw Bill’s name on the screen.She glanced at Beeler and Ann Marie, who were still discussing the best approach for enlisting the local police’s cooperation, and thumbed the screen.
“Checking in,” read the message.“How’s it going?”
She replied with brisk efficiency.“Traced the emails to a Marcus Callahan in Sandhaven.A possibility.”
“Not a sure thing?”
“I wish,” Riley typed back with a sigh.“But he sounds like an unpleasant character.Heading to possibly arrest him.”
“Wish I was there,” came his almost immediate response.“Be careful.”
“Will do,” she typed back, her own pulse quickening at the thought of what lay ahead.“No need to worry.”
“Sorry, but worry is part of my job,” he sent back, followed by a heart emoji.
