Page 14 of Outrun The Devil
The marking was unlike anything she had ever seen before, written in a language that made her head spin. She couldn't identify it immediately, but it was clear that whoever left it was knowledgeable in the occult. Olivia's heart sank at the realization that this was no ordinary murder. Someone had gone to great lengths to carry out this heinous act.
A shiver ran down her spine as if a cold breeze had blown through the forest. She couldn't shake the feeling that the killer was still out there, watching her every move. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and she turned to see a male detective approaching. Olivia's heart raced as she realized the gravity of the situation. This was just the beginning of a long and perilous investigation.
“You must be the hot shot they sent over from Phoenix.”
As she scanned him up and down, Olivia couldn't help but notice how his clothes fit him like a second skin. His shirt hugged his broad shoulders and toned chest, and his slacks accentuated his muscular thighs. It was clear that he took great care in his appearance, and Olivia couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his perfect exterior.
“This hot shot has a name,” she was unimpressed. “Detective Olivia Collins.” She didn’t offer her hand not wanting to contaminate her gloves but also because she didn’t want to shake his hand. But as she introduced herself, she couldn't help but take a second glance at Nathan. His chiseled features and perfectly styled hair were almost distracting, and Olivia had to remind herself that she was there for a reason. This wasn't a social call.
“Detective Nathan Steele.” He couldn’t be more than thirty years old, a decade younger than she was. They paired her with a rookie, a handsome one. But a rookie nonetheless. He had what maybe a year on as a detective? If she had to wager a guess, that is.
“Any similarities outside of age with the first victim?” Olivia needed to know how the culprit was picking his victim.
Nathan shook his head. “The only connection we have is how they stage the crime and the age they prefer to kill.”
Collins noted the way his mouth pursed, and his shoulders were tense. He was affected by this case. Likely because they had no leads, and this was the second victim. For a moment, Olivia found herself relating to him and the way he felt.
As they crouched down beside the body, Olivia couldn't shake the feeling that Nathan's presence was going to be a major hindrance to her investigation. She didn't have the luxury of dealing with partners or distractions right now, but Nathan's presence threatened to throw her off her game.
“Listen, I work alone,” she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “I don't do partners, so you're gonna need to go find some other fool to follow around. I’ve got this handled.” She focused on the body, using her pen to lift it slightly. There was something there that had caught her eye, and she needed to investigate it further.
“I’m not going anywhere unless the boss says so.”
A rule follower, she knew it.
Olivia didn't think it would be that easy to get rid of Nathan, and sure enough, he crouched down beside her, a determined look on his face. Her irritation simmered just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. Collins pried open the victim’s mouth, and there was a piece of fabric. With a gloved hand, she pulled on it and after a moment of struggle it gave way.
“What's that?” Nathan asked, eyeing the scrap of fabric in Olivia's hand. She fixed him with a look that could kill but remained silent as she dug at it with her fingernails. After a few moments of tugging, she finally managed to pull it free. The fabric was shredded, but the name tag was still visible. It took a moment for Olivia to make out the name, but she could only see the second part of the business's name. “The other victim didn’t have this.”
“Junction?” she whispered, perplexed. Nathan took the name tag from her hand and squinted at it.
“Junkyard Junction, I know this place,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. Olivia couldn't deny that Nathan had made himself somewhat useful for the moment, but it didn't mean she intended to keep him around.
The smirk on Nathan's face made it clear that he thought they had just made a break in the case, and it was all thanks to him. Olivia knew better. He was about to find out just how wrong he was.
“Great. You can give me the address and I'll be on my way to follow it up,” Olivia said, snatching the name tag back from Nathan's grasp.
“Sorry, ma'am, but that's not how this works,” Nathan replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I'm not interested in pissing off the brass, so we're going to do as we're told. The quicker we solve this, the quicker you can get out of my hair.”
Olivia didn't let on that she was offended by Nathan's condescending tone. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she stated the facts, "I didn't get this far in my career by worrying about who I was going to piss off. If you must follow me around like a lost pup then the least you can do is stay out from under my feet."
The smug look he had moments ago was long gone from his face as a fire lit behind his eyes that almost seemed to change color with his rage. He started to growl out a response but I cut him off saying, “But first, we need to identify our victim and notify their family.”
Nathan’s eyebrows knitted together further. “Of course.” As if he was more insulted she dared to think he wouldn’t follow protocol than Oliva’s obvious poor impression of him. Olivia brushed it off because she didn’t care what he thought or felt.
Turning to the uniforms on the scene, Olivia instructed them to canvas the area and reach out to the nearest residents to see if they noticed anything unusual last night.
As the forensic technicians meticulously worked their way through the crime scene, Olivia found herself in a state of anticipation. Once they were finished here, the evidence would be taken back to the station for analysis. However, without the guidance of her visions, she felt a profound sense of uncertainty, unable to unravel the mysterious story behind the girl's tragic fate.
Even more, Olivia hated needing to rely on Nathan Steele's local knowledge.
As Olivia Collins sat behind the wheel, a heavy weight settled upon her shoulders, matching the weight she had felt earlier. The atmosphere in the car was laden with unspoken tension as if the air itself mirrored the burden she carried within.
Her fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel, seeking solace and stability in its familiar shape. The cool touch of the leather beneath her hands provided a small measure of comfort, anchoring her to the present moment.
The buzz of her phone jolted her from her thoughts.
“Collins,” she answered, distracted.