by Vakey, Jenn
Rilynne let out a low sigh as she placed the phone back on her desk. While she knew it was ridiculous, she still felt like it was wrong to allow her self to be happy with everything that was going on. She couldn’t talk to Ben without a surge of excitement and glee passing through her. All that left her with in the end, though, was even more guilt.
Despite the crowded office, everyone left Rilynne alone with her thoughts. Occasionally someone would walk over to check on her, but despite wanting to hear about her new life, they seemed to all know it wasn’t the right moment for socializing.
“I’m on my way to pick up Sibrian from the airport,” Wooldridge stuck his head into the office door a few hours later, Kim sound asleep in his arms. “Would you like to come along?”
“No,” she replied as she looked over to the clock hanging on the wall. “I have some stuff that I need to take care of. I’ll see you two in the morning.”
She watched him walk toward the elevator, thankful that he didn’t press her about what she would have to do so late at night.
When the doors closed behind him, she gathered the files off the desk and dropped them into her desk drawer before locking it. On her way out, she grabbed a large light out of the storage closet.
Her head was so cluttered that the drive to Madison seemed to take no time at all. After stopping to grab something quick to eat, she climbed back into her rental car and drove the remaining half hour to the crime scene.
Although she knew it wasn’t far from the park road, she hadn’t expected it to be so close. She only had to drive about twenty feet off the main road before the police tape stopped her.
She could just make out the hole in the ground where Christopher had been found, so she positioned her car where the headlights would provide the most light. Unfortunately, the clouds were covering what little light the crescent moon was providing, so she had to pull out the large light she had taken from the station just so she could see the entire taped-off area.
Surprisingly, it was almost exactly as she had imagined it. The hole, which was just over six feet long, was sitting at the base of a large birch tree. She started toward it, but only made it two feet before stopping. As much as she tried to push herself to continue, she couldn’t make her feet move any further.
Instead, she turned and looked around the rest of the scene. Christopher’s wallet was discovered about fifteen feet from where the body had been found, stuffed into a hole at the base of a tree and covered in about three inches of dirt. Had a design crafted out of metal not been on it-which the metal detectors pinged on-it might have been overlooked.
She walked over to the tree and dropped down to her knees. Sliding the glove off of her hand, she reached out to touch the hole.
The small clearing was suddenly so bright that she had to shield her eyes. When they adjusted, she found that the thin layer of snow had vanished and been replaced by patches of vibrant green grass.
She turned hesitantly back to the grave, but was relieved to find that it had already been filled back in. She looked down to her hands, which were beginning to feel warm, and found them wrapped in black gloves. In her right hand sat the wallet she had bought Christopher the prior Christmas.
She looked around the clearing before her eyes landed on a hole at the base of a large tree. She made it over to the tree in just two long strides and shoved the wallet into the hole. After making sure it was in as deep as it would go, she walked back over to the fresh grave and grabbed the shovel. Using it, she threw three shovels full of dirt over the hole and packed it firmly down.
She tossed the shovel up on her shoulder and looked around the entire area. As she did, an overwhelming feeling of pleasure swept over her.
When her eyes opened, Rilynne felt like she was going to be sick. She considered grabbing the light and heading back to the car, but after taking a deep breath to pull herself together, she sat down in the middle of the clearing and closed her eyes again.
“Where are you?” she demanded aloud. “Show me where you are.”
She concentrated harder than she ever had before, and nearly toppled over when the images started slamming her, each one feeling like she had been slapped across the back of the head.
A tree, a wooded hiking trail, a snow covered cabin with smoke billowing from the chimney, and a large wooden sign that was covered in snow, leaving only one word visible: ‘Welcome.’
When she opened her eyes again, she let herself fall backwards and land hard on the frozen ground.
Her breathing was hard, and the cold air began to sting the back of her throat. She laid on the cold ground for what felt like an hour as tears rolled freely out of the corners to her eyes. It wasn’t until snow started to drift down on her that she decided to get back up.
The drive back seemed to take three times as long, which she attributed to her eagerness to get back to her warm hotel room and the bed that awaited her.
It was just before four in the morning when she finally stepped into her room. She glanced over at her bed, but despite how tired she was, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she had made sense of what she had seen.
“Okay,” she said aloud. “Tree-well, that one’s pretty common, along with the hiking trail. What else was it?” She thought back. “Oh yes, the cabin. It was distinctive in a way, but nothing about it will help me actually find it. That just leaves the sign.”
She pulled out her computer and typed ‘snow covered wooden welcome signs’ into the search bar. She sifted through the countless pages of pictures, examining each of them to see if she could find the exact sign she had seen. After an hour of searching, she gave in to her frustration and closed the computer.
When she finally climbed into bed, she glanced over at the clock and let out a groan when she realized just how late it was.
Waves crashed in front of her, causing her to jump. She looked forward to find a white sandy beach stretching out in front of her. The warmth of the sand on her feet seemed to stretch through her, bringing with it an intense feeling of joy.
“What am I doing here?” she asked, though no one was around to answer.
She walked slowly out toward the water, letting her feet sink down in the sand with every step. By the time the waves swept over her toes, all of the anger and sadness she had been feeling was gone. Instead, she felt more relaxed than she ever had before.
She leaned down and rolled up the legs of her pants before making her way down the beach toward the rock formation in the distance. Every time a wave tickled at her feet, she was met with an almost elated sensation. By the time she reached the giant, tree shaded stones, she had decided never to leave. It was the perfect place, she thought. Nothing would be able to touch her as long as she stayed.
She leaned back on the towel that was sitting on the rock behind her, and watched the clouds in the sky. They seemed to be dancing to the sound of the waves, moving forward with every crash.
Suddenly, something else appeared in the sky; it was a kite. She sat up and looked around, trying to see who else was on her beach. She followed the string of the kite, just visible against the bright blue sky, and found a figure standing at the other end of the beach. She watched it curiously for several minutes before sliding off the rock. Something about the appearance of the figure made her angry; she didn’t want anyone else on her beach.
The waves splashed over her feet as she slowly made her way toward the intruder, which she could now see was a man. He was tall, close to six feet, with neatly combed brunette hair. Her heart leapt as her feet began moving faster.
“Christopher!” she yelled out. He didn’t turn.
When she was about ten feet from the man, still holding the string from the kite above his head as he stepped slowly forward, she stopped dead in her tracks. Something was not right.
“I know that walk,” she said aloud.
Her inner peace was swiftly replaced by a blinding rage. She looked around, unsure what she hoped to find. To the ground at
her left, a shovel was sticking out of the ground. It was the same shovel; she knew it was. She stepped over and pulled it out of the sand, holding it firmly in her hands.
“I trusted you with my life!” she yelled, taking a step forward. “You were closer to me than almost anyone in the world, and you betrayed me. How could you do that?” She swung the shovel with all of her might, hitting the man over the side of the head. Though the string of the kite fell from his hand, he seemed uninjured by the blow. Rilynne’s hands stung from the vibration as she picked it back up, ready to deliver another swing. Before she could, he turned slowly around to face her.
“You know,” he said in almost an amused tone. “He told me what you could do. Christopher told me all about your abilities. I told him he was crazy, but he insisted it was true. He said that’s how you’re able to solve all of those cases when everyone else gets stumped. I guess it didn’t help you here, though.”
She let the shovel fall from her shoulder, but didn’t release her grip. So much anger was flooding through her that she couldn’t seem to form any kind of response.
“I thought for sure after he told me that you wouldn’t be too far behind, no matter how many precautions were taken,” he continued. “How does someone hide from someone like you? Apparently it’s easier than I thought.”
“How could you?” she asked furiously.
Her question left him with his own look of anger. “How could I? How could you!” Mifflin yelled back. “You live a life of lies. In that moment, all I felt was anger toward you.”
He turned around and walked away, reaching out to grab the string of the kite sitting just feet in front of him.
“I am going to find you!” she yelled. “I don’t care where you hide, it’s only a matter of time.” She picked up the shovel again, swinging with all of her might, but it just floated right through him. She lost her balance as it swung around, and landed hard on her side. By the time she pulled herself up, he was gone.
“No!” she yelled, throwing the shovel down the beach.
Chapter Four
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” she heard as she answered the phone. “I didn’t think you even had it in you to sleep this late.”
She glanced over to the clock sitting on nightstand and was shocked to see that it was just before ten. “It’s okay,” she mumbled. “I didn’t get back in until a little after four. I’m actually glad you called when you did, though. I wasn’t having the best dream.”
“Well, you’ve had a lot going on,” Ben said. “I take it going out to the scene had some unpleasant effects.”
“More so than I thought, I guess,” she said, pulling herself up. As she did, she felt a sudden twinge spread through her side. Rilynne couldn’t think of what could be causing it until she lifted up her shirt and found a bruise from where she had hit the nightstand the morning before. She slowly shook her head, thankful her shirt hid it so she wouldn’t have to answer curious questions. “Have you been able to start the analysis of the evidence yet?”
“Just about finished, actually,” he said with a note of pride.
Rilynne walked across the room and pulled the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood into the room. “How on earth have you been able to process all of that?” she asked, looking back to the clock. “I know you couldn’t have made it back to your lab before seven last night.”
“More like a little after ten. I got stuck behind a pretty bad accident on my way out of San Antonio,” he explained. “I know how important this is for you, so I worked through the night.”
She was left with a lack of words as she felt a wave of heat pass through her. She knew that no matter what she said, she could never express the level of gratitude she felt toward him. She was glad that he didn’t wait for a response before continuing.
“The DNA won’t be finished until this evening, but I was able to process the rest,” he said. “I have someone working on his phone also, but it’s still too early to know if we’ll be able to pull anything off of it. It was pretty damaged, from both being smashed and being exposed to the elements for so long.”
“Have you found anything that could help us track down his killer?” she asked with an obvious hopeful tone, still reeling from her dream.
“I did find some trace in the soil samples around the body that wasn’t consistent with the area,” he replied. “I found the same trace tucked under one of the pieces of metal on Christopher’s wallet. I know it’s vegetation of some kind, but I haven’t been able to identify it yet. After spending the majority of the night going through the list of all known plant life in the state of Wisconsin, I called in a few favors to widen the search to all of North America. It shouldn’t take long to identify it.”
“Good,” she said, though in her still drowsy state, she couldn’t see the significance of putting a name to the vegetation found by the body.
As if Ben could sense her reservations, he elaborated on his findings.
“If the plant life isn’t found in the area, it might be able to tell you where Mifflin was just prior to burying the body,” he said. “After this long, I’m sure that chances aren’t great that he would still be in that area, but it’s a place to start.”
She couldn’t think why, but a sudden wave of hope overcame her.
“Did you find anything else?” she asked.
By the slight rattling sound coming from the phone, she had a feeling he was shaking his head. “There wasn’t much for me to work with,” he said. “Assuming that he was buried when he disappeared, the clothes have been exposed to the elements for nineteen months. If they had been pure cotton, they would have been completely degraded by now. Luckily, the shirt was a blend so it was still mostly in tact.” He hesitated for several moments before continuing. “I did find a half-inch cut about two inches below the left arm, which is where the main concentration of the blood was found. My opinion would be that he was stabbed.”
“The coroner didn’t find any evidence of a stab wound,” she said.
“The cut was horizontal, so it’s possible that the killer was very lucky with the positioning of it and it slid right between the ribs.”
She tried to picture just how such a stab could happen, but it only made her stomach turn. “Was he in pain?” she asked. As soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to take them back. While it would have been a relief to learn that he hadn’t felt a thing, she didn’t know if she could handle hearing otherwise. Especially since she still felt that his death was her fault.
Ben let out a sigh that was just loud enough for her to hear over the line. She knew that his initial instinct was to say whatever he could to comfort her, whether it be true or not. “Honestly, I can’t answer that,” he said finally. “Given its position on the shirt and the amount of blood, it’s very possible that his heart could have been punctured. If that’s the case, I would say that it was all over very quickly.”
“Thank you,” she said. As hard it was to hear the findings, she was grateful that he was being as honest and forthcoming as he was. “Did they send you the evidence from the original scene also?”
“They sent detailed pictures which I’m going to have Summers look at as soon as his vacation is over,” he said. “If anyone can read the blood patterns and give you a story, it’s him. The only piece of physical evidence they sent-aside from a few blood samples-was the knife.”
She could hear him tensing as he mentioned it. At the same time, she felt a jolt of pain hit her back. It was almost as if she could feel it sliding into her again.
“I, uh…” he trailed off. “I’m going to process the handle and see if there’s any trace that I can pull off of it. You said it was your dad’s knife, right?”
“Yeah,” she replied. After her father disappeared when she was a child, she was left with very few things to remember him by. One of them was a pocketknife, which she had kept on display in her house. When she walked in and interrupted Mifflin, he had used that treasured possessi
on to attack her.
“Was it used?” she asked hesitantly. For some reason, the thought of her father’s knife being used to take Christopher’s life was even more sickening than it being pressed into her back.
“The dimensions are similar, but I won’t be able to give you an answer without doing more tests,” he replied. “The test done on it originally didn’t show another DNA profile other than yours, but I want to test it myself. I’m going to need to take it apart, but I’ll make sure it’s put back together for you.”
Although it had been her father’s, she hadn’t given much thought to what would happen to it when the case was closed. She assumed it would eventually be returned to her, but she wasn’t sure she even wanted it. “Just do what you need to.”
Ben seemed to understand the conflict she felt, because he didn’t push the subject further. Instead, he tried to lighten the moment by talking about the happenings in the station, but Rilynne’s mind was so consumed with thoughts of the knife that she didn’t catch a word he was saying.
She was overcome with a memory from when she was around five and found the knife for the first time. Until that day, she had never really given much thought to the absent father in her life. When her mother saw her admiring it, she sat her down on the end of her stuffed animal covered bed and told her all about the man who had been missing for so long.
After that day, she always thought about her father and the stories Amber had told her about him when she looked at it. That is until the doctors explained that it had been pulled out of her back.
In a way, she was angrier about her memories being tainted than the betrayal itself. At least that part of it.
“Well, I better get back to work” she heard Ben say. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything else.”
“Yeah,” she said, shocked back into reality. “Thanks for everything. I’ll talk to you soon.”