Page 2 of X Marks the Stalker
Calloway couldn’t spare two minutes to retrieve it, lost in his macabre vision. It’s always like this with him. Brilliant, but utterly impractical. And I’m the one left to clean up the pieces. It’s a dynamic I’ve come to accept from my friend.
“Fortunately for you,” I whisper into my phone, “I planned for your inevitable artistic distraction.” I glance up at the tiny device. “Same exact model as the gallery’s security system. CX-5000. Even used the same mounting hardware.”
The police milling around haven’t given it a second look. Why would they? It matches the dozen other security cameras throughout the space.
“You mean you?—”
“Anticipated your complete disregard for operational security?” I finish for Calloway. “Yes. It’s called contingency planning, not that you’d know anything about that.” I keep my voice low. “The Rivera Gallery upgraded its system last month. I made sure our additions blended right in.”
I stare at a hideous painting of either a sunset or a pizza dropped on asphalt. Two hundred thousand dollars, according to the tiny placard. I’m in the wrong profession. Well, the wronglegalprofession.
“They’ll pull the footage eventually, but by the time they realize the angles don’t add up with the other cameras, we’ll be long clear.”
Calloway makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and admiration. “Not paranoid at all, are you?”
“I prefer the term ‘methodically prepared.’ But sure, insult the guy saving your ass.” I pause by a sculpture that looks like someone welded kitchen utensils to a mannequin. “Remind me again why I still help you?”
“Because I’m the only one who remembers your birthday?”
I pick up the second camera tucked into a bookshelf, its lens aimed at the now-empty death tableau. “Found camera two.”
I reach for a third camera tucked behind a hideous modern art sculpture when a softclickfreezes me in place.
The gallery’s front door. Fuck.
My pulse spikes as footsteps echo through the entrance hall.
“Someone’s here,” I whisper, ending the call and diving behind a massive sculpture ironically titledHidden Witnessjust as the door opens.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice, uncertain but determined. “Is someone in here?”
Shit. The cleaning service wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow. I checked. I always check.
I press myself against the wall, calculating escape routes. The back exit is just twenty feet away, but I’d have to cross the main gallery floor to reach it.
I peer around the edge of the sculpture, just enough to catch a glimpse of her.
Time stutters.
That dark ponytail pulls tight, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck. A few stray strands cling, drawing my eye.Her face isn’t just pretty; it’s striking. Sharp lines and soft curves that stop my thoughts cold.
She moves with the kind of focus that makes you forget there’s blood crusting the floor. No flinching. No hesitation.
Well, fuck me sideways with a murder weapon. This is an unexpected plot twist. And I hate unexpected plot twists.
She’s not with the police, not officially, anyway. Definitely not supposed to be here.
She ducks under the crime scene tape and moves through the space, photographing everything with the confidence of someone who’s broken into a dozen crime scenes before breakfast.
I watch as she examines the blood spatter patterns, her expression clinical rather than horrified. Latex gloves snap against her wrists as she pulls them on before crouching to examine the crusted blood. She pulls out her phone, tapping the record button.
“Rivera Gallery scene,” she murmurs into the device. “Blood pattern consistent with previous Gallery Killer murders. Arterial spray. Intentional, not coincidental. Same signature as the others, victim connected to the art world...”
She photographs the chalk outline, taking meticulous shots of the void patterns where evidence has been collected.
Most people see the blood and recoil. She sees the patterns. She sees the story. She sees it... like I do.
“Based on previous scenes, the body was likely positioned to mirror a painting’s composition. Need to get crime scene photos to confirm and check autopsy report for any extracted organs, but I’m sure it’s him. Everything matches The Gallery Killer.”
