Page 2 of Once Marked
But no photographer was anywhere in sight.And as Linda stopped beside the lounging woman, the details betrayed the truth: the texture of her skin, her too-still hands resting on the chair arms, and the unnatural angle of her neck.
Realization hit like a gut punch.There was no denying the harsh reality now staring closely at her face.She could see open eyes behind those oversized sunglasses’ lenses, but no flicker of life behind them.No, this wasn’t a sunbather who had risen with dawn to greet day.The vacant beach—once a postcard image of serenity, had been transformed into the backdrop of a nightmare.
A scream pierced the air, Linda’s own—raw and primal.Her voice seemed foreign to her own ears, a stranger’s cry of terror echoing back from dunes and empty expanse of shore.Startled seagulls took flight.Their wings beat the air in a chaotic flurry, their cries adding to the sense of distress.
Linda lurched backward, her balance unsteady as her feet sank into the sand, soft and treacherous beneath her.She stumbled, arms flailing for purchase in the open air, desperate to escape the grisly scene before her.But there was nowhere to run from the truth that stared back at her with glassy, unseeing eyes.
The scream left a silence in its wake, filled only by the relentless crush of waves upon the shore.It was as if nature itself was attempting to cleanse the stain of death.As the echo of her own terror faded into nothingness, Linda knew with chilling clarity that her peaceful beach vacation was over.
CHAPTER ONE
The sun was on its descent as Riley Paige steered her FBI-issued black sedan away from Quantico.Another day at the Academy had come to an end, another day of teaching those who had been accepted into that very demanding training program.
She let out a slow breath, trying to leave behind the lectures about criminal minds along with the responsibilities of shaping future agents, focusing on the road ahead, the familiar highway that led home to Fredericksburg.
It had been two weeks since she’d taken action against Leo Dillard—two weeks since he’d left the Academy rather than face the consequences of his behavior toward her.The decision to report his advances had been necessary, and his sudden departure from the Academy was a relief.
But it doesn’t feel like it’s over,she thought.
There had always been something about Leo’s demeanor, the intensity in his gaze when he looked at her, that unsettled her deeply.The ease with which he wore his charm, the underlying darkness—it was a combination she had seen before in the eyes of those who took pleasure in destruction.But it had been his physical move on her that had pushed Riley into action—that moment in her office when he’d tried to kiss her.
Reporting him had been straightforward; it was the aftermath—the quiet, the absence… She knew the pattern well: once an immediate threat was gone, doubt often crept in, whispering what-ifs and might-have-beens.It was the same doubt that kept her awake some nights, pondering over cases long closed.Yet this was different; this was personal.
Riley’s thoughts still churned as she navigated off the interstate and through the turns toward her townhouse.She tried to dismiss the grim thoughts, but her intuition, sharpened through years of profiling, wasn’t easily silenced.
Something else was troubling her—a strange void in her life that teaching didn’t seem to fill.
Turning into the familiar parking area in front of the row of pleasant townhouses, Riley let out a sigh of relief.The sight of Bill Jeffreys’ car already there was a welcome sign.She parked beside it and stepped out into the warm September air.
Approaching the door, she inserted her key into the lock and then pushed the door open.From the kitchen, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans announced that Gabriela was working her magic, the sizzling sounds promising a hearty meal to come.
Stepping over the threshold, Riley smiled when she heard Bill’s voice, measured and reassuring, punctuated by Jilly’s exasperated sighs.It was the sound of a familiar homework hour at the dining room table.
Of course, her eldest daughter wasn’t there with them now.April had already departed for her first year at Jefferson Bell University and had chosen to live on campus.Even though that was an important step, and even though the campus was right here in Fredericksburg, Riley couldn’t shake a sense of loss, the feeling of a chapter ending.
Shedding the weight of her day along with her jacket, Riley lingered in the entryway for a moment.The stresses of her day - the nagging thoughts of Leo Dillard and the relentless intensity of her work - all began to dissolve.As she moved toward the dining room, Riley was very grateful to be home.The contrast between all this and the sterile halls of the Academy was palpable and welcome.
“Hey Riley,” Bill said looking up from the spread of academic debris scattered on the big table in front of him and Jilly.“How was your day?”
Riley set her bag down with a soft thud and moved to join them, the day’s remnants of profiling theory and criminal psychology evaporating in the wake of this small family scene.Her hand found its way to Jilly’s hair, fingers threading through the dark curls in an affectionate ruffle.
“Just the usual routine,” she answered.“How’s the homework battle going?”
Jilly’s response was a performance unto itself; she slumped back in her chair, an artful groan escaping her lips.“Why do I need to know so much about algebra?When am I ever going to use this in real life?”
Riley chuckled, crossing her arms as she regarded her young charge.
“Already forgotten, have you?”she teased.“That time just a couple of weeks ago, when you and April became my unofficial consultants?You decoded those cryptic notes, and algebra was our Rosetta Stone.By solving forx,you found the coordinates where a dead body was buried.”
Her reminder was met with a momentary spark that acknowledged the adventure they’d shared.It was these instances, small victories and shared memories, that bridged the gap between their disparate worlds—her adopted daughter’s rough, tumultuous past as a troubled orphan, and Riley’s sometimes shadowed present.
Jilly returned to the pages, her exasperation giving way to a focused intensity.As the pencil in Jilly’s hand scribbled the final answer, Riley leaned over the array of algebra problems, each step meticulously executed, and felt a surge of pride for the young girl who had come to mean so much to her, and who had overcome such childhood adversity.
Her gaze met Bill’s across the table and a warmth spread through her, not just from the pride in Jilly’s resolve but from the knowledge that Bill supported her in every challenge they faced.
Soon, the textbook snapped shut, and Jilly’s triumphant exhale filled the room.“Finally!Can I go play my game now?”
“Nice work,” Bill affirmed, giving his approval.
