Page 52 of Once Broken
As Riley laid out their discovery, the Detective’s posture shifted from exhaustion to alertness.Hayes pushed away from his desk, chair wheels squeaking against the worn linoleum.His voice carried the shock of realization.
“So Sarah Brooks would have both the professional skills and the personal motivation for revenge.”
“That’s our theory,” Riley said.“It’s likely that she would have grown up hearing about how her grandfather’s career was destroyed by Roberta Rimes’ testimony and Myrtle Carroway’s exposé.Why she targeted Crystal Keene, we don’t yet know.But it surely has something to do with her grandfather.”
“She’s been hiding in plain sight,” Ann Marie added.“Working at the studio, building a reputation, gaining access to everything she would need.”
“And you think she’s working through her grandfather’s films chronologically?”Hayes asked.
Riley confirmed the chronology.“Veronica Slate was poisoned like the nightclub singer inThe Night Walker,from 1954.Crystal Keene was strangled and chained to a projector like the film critic inThe Broken Window,from 1957.The next film was“Shadows at Dusk,released in 1958.There’s a scene where the female lead is strangled on the altar of a church sanctuary.”
Hayes straightened suddenly.“A church altar,” he repeated.“St.Barnabas on Peachtree Street.It’s been deconsecrated and is scheduled for demolition next month.The building’s been empty for weeks.”
Riley felt a surge of adrenaline.“That could be it.Isolated, accessible, no regular visitors.”
“Perfect setting for a staged murder,” Ann Marie agreed.
Hayes was already reaching for his phone.“I’ve got a patrol officer three blocks from there.Let’s see if anything looks suspicious.”He punched in a number, holding the phone to his ear with one hand while the other tapped impatiently on the desk.
“Officer Mendez?Hayes here.I need you to do a quick check of St.Barnabas Church on Peachtree.Approach with caution—possible abduction situation.”He paused, listening.“That’s right.Focus on the sanctuary.Just look for signs of activity, but don’t enter if you see anything suspicious.Call for backup.”Another pause.“I’ll hold.”
The office fell silent as they waited, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant ring of phones from the bullpen outside.
“I’m listening, Mendez,” Hayes finally said, his voice cutting through the tense silence.He listened for several moments, his expression shifting from hope to disappointment.“You’re sure?Nothing disturbed in the sanctuary?”Another pause.“Alright.Stay in the area.I’ll have additional units joining you shortly.”He ended the call, setting the phone down.
“Nothing,” he reported.“Officer Mendez did a walkthrough of the sanctuary.No signs of disturbance, no indication that anyone’s been there recently.”
“It could be the wrong place,” Riley said.“Or it could be that Sarah Brooks hasn’t transported Lucy there yet.”
“Either way, we need to keep St.Barnabas under surveillance,” Hayes said, rising from his chair again.“It still fits the profile too well to ignore.I’ll have officers maintain a discreet watch on the building.If Sarah Brooks shows up with Lucy Morgan, we’ll be ready.”
He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.“I’ll head there now to coordinate.I’m texting you the address,” he added.“Meet me there in ten.”
Riley felt her phone vibrate with the incoming message as Hayes headed for the door.“We’ll be right behind you,” she assured him.
As the two BAU agents made their way through the station toward the parking garage, Riley’s instincts were pulling in different directions.The evidence pointed to St.Barnabas as the logical location for Sarah Brooks to stage her third murder, yet the officer’s report suggested otherwise.
“What’s bothering you?”Ann Marie asked as they reached the car.
Riley unlocked the doors with a click of the key fob.“I’m not sure.Something feels off.”
They slid into their seats, and Riley started the engine, pulling out of the parking space to follow the route Hayes had taken.The midday Atlanta traffic flowed around them, ordinary people going about ordinary lives, oblivious to this race against time unfolding in their city.
“I’ve got that same feeling,” Ann Marie admitted as they waited at a red light.“Like we’re missing something obvious.”
“The pattern seems so clear.But if Sarah Brooks is following that pattern so precisely, why wasn’t Lucy at St.Barnabas?”
Ann Marie was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the traffic ahead.Then she turned to Riley, her expression thoughtful.“Remember what you said earlier?In the projection booth when you were getting into the killer’s mindset?”
Riley frowned slightly, trying to recall her exact words.“About the killer loving how movies make their magic?”
“Yes.You said the killer loves the way movies make their magic, the same way a stage magician makes his audience believe his tricks are real.”Ann Marie’s voice grew more animated as she continued.“And that the killer loves turning make-believe into something that seems realer than real.”
The light changed, and Riley accelerated through the intersection, the pieces beginning to click together in her mind.“I said that?I wasn’t even sure what I meant at the time.It just...came out.”
“I think you were onto something,” Ann Marie insisted.“Think about it.The first murder—Veronica Slate poisoned in a nightclub that wasn’t a real nightclub at all.It was a set, constructed specifically for the purpose.”
“But Crystal Keene was killed in an actual projection booth,” Riley countered.
