Page 7 of Once Marked
Riley studied the second image on her tablet.Sternan, captured forever in that moment, was clad in a turquoise one-piece swimsuit embellished with striking, geometric designs.The style of the swimsuit hinted at an even earlier time than the other victim’s attire - it echoed the fashion trends of perhaps the 1920s.She also noticed a resemblance between the two women, both of whose hair was rather sloppily cut short, and whose faces were both long with high cheekbones.
“Vintage swimwear again,” she observed.
“And not her own,” Ann Marie reiterated.
“It’s a deliberate choice.A statement.”
“Looks like that to me too.”
“Any last known whereabouts?”Riley pressed.
“Julie Sternan left work, told her husband she’d be home after a quick swim.Never arrived.”Ann Marie replied.“Billie Shearer was on her way to a meeting of the local board of commissioners, but she didn’t show up.Both of their bodies were found the morning after their disappearances.”
Then Riley read the strangest bit of information that Meredith had provided.
“But this says they were freshwater drownings,” she said with a frown.
“Exactly,” Ann Marie confirmed.
“Doesn’t add up.Why go to the trouble of positioning them by the sea?”
“Exactly,” Ann Marie repeated, her tone subdued.“And that retro look with both of them ...it has to signify something, right?”
“Perhaps a message or signature,” Riley considered, her profiler instincts kicking in.The image before her wasn’t just a photograph; it was a puzzle piece, a window into a disturbed mind.Two women connected by two different kinds of water, their lives stolen and displayed like mannequins in a twisted scenic storefront.
“First thing tomorrow,” Ann Marie announced, breaking the silence that had settled between them, “we’re meeting Sheriff Beeler at police headquarters HQ in Teomoc.”
Riley nodded, absorbing the information and filing the name away in her memory.The sheriff probably knew his jurisdiction well, could provide context to the cold facts laid bare on her screen.
“Local insight could make all the difference,” she conceded.“But Beeler’s probably out of his depth and he knows it, which is why he’s called us in.Two murders, both bizarrely out of place.And the possibility of a predator on the loose—it’s more than just bad timing with the tourist season not quite over yet.”
She knew that Teomoc was a place of small-town charm and tourist allure.She understood that the local law enforcement on the Outer Banks, grappling with the needs of tourists and a budget stretched too thin, was signaling a red flag.They needed help—FBI assistance—and not just because their resources were limited, but due to the dark cloud of fear that a serial killer might be at work in the Outer Banks.
Riley felt a familiar prickle at the back of her neck—a sense that these murders were only the beginning of something intricate and sinister.
She scrutinized the information again.What could those oddly dated swimsuits signify?A killer’s signature, or a red herring meant to mislead?
To answer those questions, Riley knew that she would have to find her way into yet another murderer’s mind.She had built her FBI career on her ability to connect with that kind of darkness.Was she skilled enough, strong enough, to do that again?
CHAPTER THREE
Early the next morning, Riley watched as the soft light of dawn turned the sky into a canvas of golds and pinks.The sun was just spilling over the horizon as Ann Marie drove them through the quiet streets of Teomoc, North Carolina, where quaint beach houses gave way to small businesses, with very few people out on the streets.They had checked into a pleasant motel just before midnight and slept well enough to get up and out very early this morning after a quick morning snack.
“Isn’t it just breathtaking, Riley?”Ann Marie’s voice bubbled with excitement as she gestured to the sprawling coastal view.“The way the sun shimmers on the water, it’s like a thousand diamonds.”
Riley listened quietly, but made no comment in return.The young agent’s enthusiasm was sometimes contagious, but right now it jarred with thoughts in her own mind—memories of cases solved and unsolved, lives saved and lost, constantly checking for comparisons to what they might be faced with here.
Still, it must feel good to be so young and enthusiastic,she thought, feeling slightly envious and a little old.
Although Riley often found Ann Marie’s high spirits a bit exhausting, she had learned that this partner could focus on the job when it became necessary.
They soon arrived at the police headquarters, and Ann Marie parked her FBI sedan in the lot.When they stepped out of the car, the morning’s chill was beginning to recede in the warmth of the rising sun.The building in front of them was unassuming, its faded brick facade blending seamlessly with the easygoing vibe of the coastal town.
As she walked through the front doors, Riley’s gaze landed on a bulletin board that stood in the lobby.Among colorful pamphlets promising whale watching tours and historical excursions were stark black-and-white images of wanted criminals—their faces frozen in time.It was a jarring juxtaposition, this collision of innocence and danger in a popular vacation destination.Although the entire police headquarters had a sort of laid-back charm, that didn’t mask the undercurrent of tension.She and Ann Marie were here because this charming community had been marred by violence.
As soon as they stepped inside, Sheriff Smitty Beeler approached.He was a large, imposing figure with the face of a seasoned lawman, showing the lines of countless cases and sleepless nights.With a tight smile, he extended a hand to Riley.
“Agents,” he said in a gruff voice, “I appreciate you coming down so quick.We’ve got our hands full with this one.”
