Page 43 of Already Lost

“But which one?” Nate asked.

Laura bit her lip. The site hadlow-quality images of all the bridges, and the two older models looked almostidentical. They were around the same age, around the same design… what wouldmake them stand out for the killer?

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “There’s nofurther detail in the verse. Just that the singer is looking up and sees themkissing. Someone could do that on either of those bridges.”

“Right,” Nate said, rubbing his forehead.“Well, I don’t like it, but this is a good lead and we can’t ignore it. I thinkwe have to split up.”

“I agree,” Laura said, relieved. For amoment she thought he was going to say he didn’t like the idea and they shouldforget about it. “I’ll go to the one to the west, you go to the one to theeast. Deal?”

“Deal,” Nate said, turning off the monitorand shooting out of his chair like they were in a race.

Maybe, if the killer was out therestalking his next victim, they were.

***

Nate pulled up the borrowed car by thebridge, finding a quieter road to leave it on where he was in sight of thestructure and close enough to rush over there fast. Getting out of the car, hefound himself emerging into a cool and quiet night. There was almost no noiseexcept for the low hum of traffic elsewhere in town and the quiet lapping ofwater against the sides of the riverbank. He started to walk to the bridge,leaning over slightly as his steps brought him closer to the bank. The waterwas dark, reflecting the streetlights in dappled patterns.

Nate straightened up and focused hissights on the bridge. It was lit, too – a single tall light right in the centerthat cast a beam across the middle part but left the two entrances dark. If hestayed near the foot of the bridge, he might be completely invisible to anyonewho was on it.

He paused in the spot he deemed to be themost appropriate, looking down to check his watch. The face lit up as he tiltedit; he’d made it here in good time. Better than Laura, most likely, who wasgoing to the further bridge. Even with having to flag down a passing detectiveand request their vehicle, he’d arrived here pretty fast.

He settled in to wait, his eyes roving upand down the bridge for any sign of movement. It was a chilly night but not anunpleasant one. The cold struck at his exposed face, but with his hands in thepockets of his FBI windbreaker it wasn’t so bad. He took up an easy pose, onethat didn’t stress his body too much, and found himself slipping into the quietmentality he employed on stakeouts. He could stand here for hours – though hehoped he wasn’t going to have to.

Nate’s senses were all on high alert ashis body drifted off, ignoring one to focus on the other. His eyes constantlyscanned the bridge and his ears filtered out the sounds of the river and thetraffic, searching for any anomaly. A small splash to his left made him lookaround, but he soon guessed it must have been a fish or something moving underthe water.

He settled down again, waiting.

He felt tight like a string on a bow,waiting to be played. Taut. Every muscle in his body was ready to spring,despite his relaxed stance. One hint, and he’d be up there, grabbing whoever heneeded to grab to stop someone else from dying.

There was a small movement far away, atthe other side of the bridge in the gloom. Nate narrowed his eyes, trying tomake it out. What was that? A person?

Yes, it was a person. He could see themmore and more clearly as they came across the bridge. No – it wasn’t oneperson, but two. A couple. They were holding hands.

Nate’s breath caught in his throat. Howdid the song go?Their fingers entwined while mine, they were numb.Acouple walking along a bridge holding hands – it was almost perfect. All theyhad to do now was…

The couple paused under the light, lookingdown at the water. After a moment, they turned to one another. It was coldenough that their breath misted around them as they spoke, making brief halosaround their heads that caught the light perfectly.

They leaned towards one another andkissed, and then the man nuzzled his partner for one more second before turningto walk away.

“See you tomorrow,” he called over hisshoulder, loud enough for Nate to hear in the stillness of the night.

The woman called something back not quiteas loud and then lingered there on the bridge, watching him. After a moment sheturned to look down at the water again, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

She turned to go at last, and Nate swepthis eyes up and down the length of the bridge, watching for movement. His heartwas thudding hard in his chest. If anyone was going to strike, the time wouldbe now. She had fulfilled all the criteria of the song.

Nate caught something right at the far endof the bridge. Someone moving fast.

Running. Someone running.

This was it.

He grabbed his gun from its holster andsprang forwards, rushing right past the now-alarmed woman and planting his feeton the bridge before the runner caught up to them. “Freeze right there!” heyelled. “FBI! Hands above your head!”

The runner stuttered, his motion causinghim to almost stumble before he came to a juddering halt. He raised his handsin the air with a jerky movement. The light above them cast a garish look downonto his features. Nate could see that his eyes were wide, shocked.

“Get down on the ground!” Nate shouted,but even he could see that something wasn’t right here. Something didn’t fit.

“I – I was just out for a run,” the mansaid, his voice sounding timorous. Scared. He was getting down on the ground,starting to kneel one leg at a time, his hands still in the air. “I haven’tdone anything, haven’t done anything at all.”

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