One Last Step

by Sarah Sutton

  “Mills, let me introduce you to Frank Warren.” She heard Reinhardt’s words before she realized that everyone had left the room. She quickly stood up and walked toward them.

  Warren’s face remained emotionless as Tara reached out her hand to greet him. He then let out a sigh. “I just hope you know what you’re in for,” he said as he shook her hand.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve heard great things about Mills from Hector,” Reinhardt intervened.

  He was referring to the agent who often trained her at the academy and who was the reason Tara got the job under Reinhardt in the first place.

  “I know she won’t disappoint us. Hector says she has incredible instincts,” he added as he looked directly at her.

  Tara smiled, trying to mask the anxiety she now felt.

  “I will make you proud, sir,” Tara responded.

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Reinhardt looked back and forth between her and Warren. “Now go gather your things. You both don’t have much time. Your flight leaves soon.”

  Tara nodded promptly as Reinhardt turned to leave the room, leaving her and Warren alone.

  She turned toward him—about to express her excitement to work with him—but he only breezed past her, as if on a mission of his own, leaving Tara in an empty room.

  She watched for a second as Warren continued to walk swiftly through the rows of cubicles, toward the exit of the floor, and Tara suddenly felt intimidated.

  This was going to be a difficult partnership—she could feel it—but as she followed behind him, she felt a new wave of determination wash over her. She knew she couldn’t allow herself to feel intimidated. She had to prove herself, and she was going to do whatever it took to solve this case.

  Chapter Three

  Tara looked at her phone one last time before turning it off and directing her gaze toward the window as the plane began to pick up speed.

  She was hoping that when she went home to pack, she would catch John before he left for work, but when she arrived he was already gone. And when he didn’t answer her call, she was forced to tell him about her first case via text. By the time he saw it, she would be in New Hampshire, almost 500 miles from Washington, D.C.

  It was not how she hoped to announce it to him, but this was a part of the job that she knew to expect. It was something she and John had spoken about many times—that she may have to leave at a moment’s notice—and she knew he understood. She just wished she could’ve at least said goodbye, and hear his encouraging words. John always had a way of making her feel better, and right now her new partnership was making her feel uneasy.

  The plane ascended into the air, and Tara tried to direct her thoughts back onto the case. She turned toward Warren, who was poring over case files.

  “Anything significant?” she asked.

  He looked up at her and sighed. “No…It’s mostly information we already know as this point.”

  He looked back down at the files, as though trying to avoid any further conversation, and Tara couldn’t help but feel slighted and annoyed. He hadn’t even given her a chance, and yet it seemed as if he would rather have been partnered with someone else.

  But Tara was determined not to give up. She knew his opinion mattered—it was a key ingredient in the final determination of her success on this case.

  “I’m excited to be on this case with you,” she said.

  Warren, after all, had a reputation for solving the most difficult cases, but at Tara’s words, Warren didn’t even look up, clearly an effort to ignore her. She decided to continue.

  “You solved that case in Tallahassee, right?” she asked.

  She was referring to a serial killer case in Florida, where victims were brutally murdered in their beds, their houses broken into, each hit with a blunt object. The case had gone cold until Warren stepped in. He discovered that the killer was a prized forensics professor from Florida State University who had a sick fascination with blood spatter.

  “Yes,” he sighed, but not diverting his gaze. “That was my case, along with many others.”

  He continued to look at the files in front of him.

  “Well…I’m glad Reinhardt put me on this case with you.”

  Tara threw one last attempt out there before exhausting her efforts, and she turned back toward the window. As much as she wanted to ease the tension, she wasn’t going to force someone to talk who clearly didn’t want to.

  “Yeah, well…” he spoke, to Tara’s surprise. “Usually Reinhardt partners me with more experienced agents.”

  Tara turned back toward him. “This is going to be a tough case to crack,” he added before continuing to flip through the files.

  Tara stared at him, unsure of how to respond. He clearly doubted her abilities and was not afraid to insult her either.

  “I’ve been trained already,” Tara replied. “That’s why I’m here, and I’m sure I will be of much more help than you assume.”

  Warren shrugged, his eyes still fixated in front of him, brushing her off.

  A wave of frustration flooded Tara’s body until it forced her mouth open.

  “Fighting against me isn’t going to make this partnership any easier.” She let the words flow out of her mouth. “You should really give me a chance…it would probably be in both of our best interests.”

  She felt her face begin to flush, unsure of how her words would be taken. But she was surprised when Warren looked at her, revealing a smile.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said. His words hung in the air before he grabbed a folder and handed it to her. “Here…if you want to take a look.”

  “Thanks,” Tara said as she took the file, shocked by his reaction.

  She opened it and images of the victims stared back at her. The first two victims—the couple—stood at the peak of a mountain. It was a picture that had been pulled from the woman’s Facebook page and used in an article when they went missing. She had striking green eyes and blond hair that contrasted with his darker features.

  She moved on to the picture of the third victim—also pulled from her Facebook page—standing in her hiking gear, her smiling face beaming at the camera.

  They were all not that much younger than her. Tara was twenty-five and the victims ranged from twenty-one to twenty-three. Tara had been twenty-one when she graduated from college at John Jay, when her career truly began. It was the year when she joined the NYPD, working diligently until she reached the age of twenty-three and went to start her FBI training in Quantico.

  Tara was from upstate New York, where farms were everywhere she turned, and it was during those years in New York City when she met John and became accustomed to city life, which made the transition to D.C. that much easier.

  Twenty-one felt like the year that laid the foundation for the four years that followed, and it pained her that these victims would never be able to see what their futures held.

  “So…where do you think we should start?” she finally asked Warren.

  “I spoke to the sheriff before takeoff. We’ll meet him at the second crime scene. He mentioned he has something urgent he wants to show us.”

  Tara nodded, wondering what it could be.

  Both of them turned their attention back to the papers in front of them. Tara continued to read, but it was all information that Reinhardt had filled them in on. It was their job to find the rest.

  Tara looked again out the window, watching the arm of the plane cut through the clouds, and she wondered who would do such a thing.

  Were they random killings? She assumed so, given that they were hikers, not from the area. The case file stated that the third victim was from Maine, hiking southward, while the first two victims were from Pennsylvania, moving northward. They couldn’t have known each other. It was very unlikely. And where were the couple’s bodies? It was odd that a killer would take two of them and not the other. She assumed that the third victim was just the one that got away, but without other bodies, Tara knew this wasn’t go
ing to be easy and at that thought, something else struck her mind. She turned to Warren.

  “You said that you think this will be a tough case to crack…any reason in particular?”

  He looked up.

  “Well, the first two victims are missing, so no bodies. It’s a lot harder to find a connection when there aren’t bodies to compare. Less evidence.” He looked up toward the ceiling, pondering a thought. “This looks to me like random killings, which can also make a case more difficult.”

  Tara turned back toward the window and looked down at the land below. Hearing Warren’s words made her feel a bit uneasy. A tough case to crack. She knew that some cases were more difficult, but hearing from an experienced agent that her first case might be challenging for him made her wonder if maybe she was in over her head.

  What if they just couldn’t solve it? She pondered that thought as the plane flew closer to the crime scene.

  Chapter Four

  Tara watched the house come into view as Warren neared the end of the road and then put the car in park. They quickly stepped out of the car and Tara’s eyes were immediately drawn to the yellow evidence markers carefully placed upon the lawn, creating a visible line from the porch to the forest at the edge of the property.

  She watched as two forensic photographers each bent down by a marker, took a few photos, and then moved to the next.

  “Agent Warren?”

  Tara turned her head sharply as a middle-aged officer approached. She could tell right away that the man was eager to see them. He walked briskly, with a hint of worry in his face.

  “Glad you guys got here so quick,” he said.

  His deep sunken eyes were heavy and bloodshot, making it known that it was already a long morning.

  “I’m Sheriff Russo.” He shook Warren’s hand and then Tara’s. He then briskly turned on his heel. “You two come with me.”

  They followed him across the lawn until they stood in front of the porch.

  “After you guys take a look, we’ll need to remove the body right away,” the sheriff said as he stepped over the yellow tape.

  Tara’s stomach dropped as her gaze slowly crept up the stairs to where a woman’s hiking boot stuck out just over the edge.

  She immediately felt an instinctual sense of panic within her. It was a feeling she’d had many times before when seeing a dead body, and it never seemed to get easier despite what others told her. She swallowed and steadied her breathing before she moved up the stairs and stood with Warren, overlooking the body.

  The woman lay face down, her long brown hair draped across the porch. Her right arm was outstretched in front of her, clenched in a tight fist by the base of the door. Her shirt was stained red, pierced by an arrow sticking up in the middle of her back. Her thigh was also covered in blood, and just below where her shorts ended Tara could see a hole in her leg where an arrow must’ve once been.

  “Where’s the other arrow?” Warren asked as he sat on his heels, looking closely at each wound.

  Tara admired his composure, and she followed his lead, bending down as well. The body was already letting off a stench and she stepped back slightly as it suddenly wafted into her nose.

  The sheriff shrugged. “We don’t know,” he said. “She must’ve pulled it out at some point.”

  “So you didn’t find it?”

  Sheriff Russo shook his head. “We turned the woods upside down, but nothing.”

  Warren stared in silence at the wound for a moment longer. “The killer probably took it,” he concluded.

  Tara and the sheriff remained quiet and nodded their heads. He was right; it was the only logical explanation.

  “Time of death?” Warren asked.

  “She was found around five AM this morning by a woman who lives here.”

  “She around?” It was clear Warren wanted to interview her.

  “Nah,” the sheriff said. “We put them up in a hotel for the time being. We already interviewed her anyway. She didn’t hear anything except a knock on the door.”

  Warren looked back down at the body, his eyes studying every inch, carefully making sure he hadn’t missed any important details. He put on a set of gloves, inched closer to her face, and pushed away some strands of hair. Tara moved closer, and she could see the bluish color of the woman’s cheek.

  “Looks like she fell, most likely when he shot her,” Warren said as he got back up onto his feet. “No fingerprints?” he asked.

  The sheriff shook his head. “Only hers on some trees over there.” He nodded back in the direction of the forest. “Whoever it was covered their tracks well.”

  Tara stood up and her eyes moved to the trees. They were about three miles north of the town of Hanover, where blood was found on the trail, believed to be from the couple. If they all passed through Hanover, that would be the best place to start, but she already knew it was unlikely since the woman in front of them was hiking from Maine.

  “No way she hiked into Hanover, right?” Tara asked.

  The sheriff shook his head. “She was heading that way, but never made it.”

  Tara nodded with disappointment. “Anyone spot the couple in town?”

  “Yes,” he began. “A man who owns a hiking store in town…couldn’t get any leads out of him though…don’t think he knows anything.”

  A silence fell around them before Warren asked, “Well, didn’t you have something else to show us?”

  The sheriff’s face morphed into the tight expression he had when they first arrived. He motioned for them to follow him as he moved down the stairs.

  Tara followed behind him and Warren. She knew that whatever it was, it was something the sheriff believed they needed to see for themselves. They followed him across the lawn, parallel to the trail of blood, until they stood at the edge of the woods.

  Tara’s eyes fell on the dark forest and she felt a coolness sweep against her as the scent of pine needles flooded her nostrils. She could see where the brush was forcefully pushed apart. Pine needles and broken branches littered the ground, and she felt a shiver up her spine knowing that it was where the victim pushed her way through, where she most likely had a moment of hope as she reached the lawn and saw the house.

  Sheriff Russo walked through the brush and they followed behind, the forest becoming all that surrounded them. Tara could almost hear it—the woman’s frantic footsteps crunching the leaves beneath them, her panicked breathing. It always seemed strange to her how thin the line between life and death was, that a woman stood where she was hours earlier, and now lay lifeless. Tara felt sick to her stomach at the thought as she continued to move around the trees, following the splatters of blood on the ground.

  They moved swiftly and silently until suddenly, something caught Tara’s eye. It was a sliver of reflected light and what the sheriff was bringing them toward. As they got closer, she could see it clearly. It hung on a tree branch in the distance, glistening under the fragments of sunlight breaking through the trees.

  They moved closer until she stood right in front of it. It was a bronze pocket compass, hanging open, with a silver needle that pointed south instead of north. She took a step back from the tree. Underneath the tree branch, etched on the trunk, was the image of a sun. It sat behind a series of peaked mountains, as if to show a sun that was setting or rising, and as her eyes moved further down the base of the tree, she saw words, They Never Leave, and she immediately felt goosebumps form on the back of her neck.

  “What do you think it means?” she asked as she looked up to see Warren’s face in disbelief.

  “We found it here this morning. We have no clue,” the sheriff said.

  Warren reached into his pocket, grabbing a set of gloves and putting them on, before grabbing hold of the compass. He moved it slightly in each direction, but at each jostle, the needle continued to point south.

  “It’s stuck,” Warren finally said before staring at it and moving it in his hand for a moment longer.

  Tara continued
to stare at the tree. It had to mean something, but what?

  “Do you think it’s pointing to the other crime scene?” she asked.

  It was pointing south, after all, the same direction the supposed blood of the couple was found.

  A silence fell around them for a moment until Warren opened his mouth. “Possibly,” he said. “Have you found any more of these?” He turned toward the sheriff.

  “No,” the sheriff stated. “This was it…the other crime scene had nothing.”

  They continued to stand in silence as Warren turned the compass in his hand once more. Tara knew they all had the same question. Why take the other bodies and leave nothing, but then the opposite here? Maybe he didn’t want her to get away, Tara thought. Her mind raced as it all came together in her thoughts. What if he only left something because she got away? Maybe it became a game to him, once he knew they would be on his tail. Maybe he was taunting them.

  “Did you check the other crime scene after you found this body?” Tara asked.

  The sheriff stared at her with confusion. “Uh…no…there was no reason to. We already turned the scene upside down.”

  She suddenly felt all eyes on her, as he and Warren waited for her to elaborate. She stared at the compass in Warren’s hand, questioning whether to trust her instincts, but the feeling was too strong.

  “What if he went back?” The words fell out of her mouth.

  Chapter Five

  The sun had already peeked up over the horizon and he stood there, watching it break through the trees. It was a new day, and he could feel the urge rise within him at each touch of the sun, like an itch that was too deep to scratch.

  For the first time, a hiker had gotten away and it burned like a fire within him. She was dead, that much he knew, but he wanted to control it, have her beg for death. It was not how she was supposed to go. But he would make up for it, and tonight, he had decided, he would take another victim and his body tingled with excitement.