Page 21 of Once Marked
“Love you,” she responded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest that had little to do with the North Carolina heat.
Slipping the phone back into her pocket, Riley realized that her partner was looking at her.The younger agent’s eyes held a gleam of understanding.
“Bill?”Ann Marie asked, her tone light with curiosity.
Riley’s lips curved into a half-smile.“He worries,” she admitted, her voice tinged with affection.
“So what did you tell him?”Ann Marie pressed gently.
“I told him there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Ann Marie chuckled, echoing Riley’s silent thoughts.
The conversation waned, leaving Riley to mull over the day’s developments.She’d built a career on profiling criminals, delving into the darkest recesses of the human psyche.Now, as the evidence pointed to Callahan, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d missed something fundamental.Could her initial theory have been wrong?
“Sandhaven is coming up,” Beeler announced.
“Callahan’s territory,” Ann Marie murmured, reviewing the notes on her tablet.
Their vehicle slowed as they entered the town, which was a stark change from the bustling beach communities they had seen on the North Carolina coast.The windows of shops lining the sidewalks displayed practical goods essential for daily life.The homes they drove past were sturdy, but looked like they’d weathered more than just storms.
“Where’s the rustic charm?”Riley muttered under her breath.
“Agent Paige?”Sheriff Beeler’s voice cut through her reverie.
“Sorry, just thinking aloud,” she replied.
The streets here were quiet, with only a few locals walking or biking.Even so, as they drove through the town, Riley could feel the glares that followed them.She understood that this was a community shaped by the rigors and rhythms of a hardworking life on the water.The locals here didn’t seem to have any interest in the tourist trade, and they didn’t look happy to see a newly-arrived sheriff’s cruiser.
Riley couldn’t help but make some comparisons.She had grown up in small towns in the mountains, and those towns had been isolated too.But she didn’t think the people living there had been as resistant as these seemed to be to be outsiders.She reminded herself that she was remembering those towns as an insider, and a child at that.But even so, she sensed a particular hostility here.
Their vehicle slowed as they neared the marina, where the local fishermen moored their boats.The majority of the fleet was out at sea, a few silhouettes visible against the horizon.In the marina, just a handful of solitary vessels swayed gently in the waters.
Seagulls wheeled and spiraled high overhead, their piercing cries echoing across the sky, their white bodies glinting in the sunlight.Every so often, one would dive with swift precision to snatch one of the floating scraps that were occasionally tossed onto the water.
Riley found herself examining the boats as they passed.Utilitarian in design with sturdy hulls and practical layouts, they weren’t designed for speed or glamour.These were working vessels, outfitted with fishing equipment rather than sun decks.They did seem to be carefully maintained, their paint reasonably fresh and their decks tidy, in stark contrast to the weathered houses they had just driven by.
“Callahan’s Boat Repair is on the east end of the marina,” Beeler said.“That part of the marina is a labyrinth of docks and workshops.Easy to get lost if you don’t know where you’re going.”
“Which means we’ll need all the help we can get,” Ann Marie added, her tone serious as she turned to look at Riley and then back to Beeler.
“Exactly,” Beeler said, nodding.“We’re heading to the police station first.We’ll need the local chief’s help with this.He can help us coordinate the arrest without raising any more alarm than we need to.”
They were about to confront more than just a suspect—they were stepping into a tightly knit community where Callahan might have eyes and ears everywhere.The prospect of enlisting local law enforcement offered some reassurance, but Riley knew from experience that trust had to be earned, and that seemed especially clear in this fisherman’s town.
Again, she wondered about her earlier hit on the sense that the killer was a woman.If she was right, what did it mean for the investigation—for the arrest they were planning to make?Right now, none of the evidence seemed likely to connect with her belief that a woman’s hand was behind these murders.The possibility that Marcus Callahan might be their killer clouded her earlier conviction.
Does that mean I’m losing my edge?she wondered.
The notion prowled around her mind, feral and unwelcome.Profiling was her craft, honed over years of delving into the darkest corners of human behavior.To question it was to question her very identity within the BAU.
She swallowed hard at her spasm of self-doubt.It wasn’t like her at all—at least not before she’d given up field work for teaching.And with an impending arrest of a likely suspect at hand, she needed to keep her confidence high.
Focus,she told herself.Remember who you are.
Now was no time to forget that she was Special Agent Riley Paige.
CHAPTER TEN
