Page 47 of Outrun The Devil
Olivia's eyes narrowed further, her patience wearing thin. “You know that you're not allowed on an active crime scene without clearance from the department. You're putting the integrity of the investigation at risk.”
Rachel's smile faltered for a moment before she regained her composure. “I understand that, detective. But surely you can give me a statement, off the record?”
Olivia shook her head firmly. “I'm sorry, Rachel. I can't discuss the case with you. You'll have to wait until the department releases an official statement.”
Rachel's eyes darted between Olivia and the crime scene, a look of frustration etched on her face. “Fine,” she finally said, her voice tight with irritation. “But you know I'll get the story eventually.”
Olivia watched as Rachel turned on her heel and made her way back towards the yellow tape. She knew that the journalist would find a way to get her story, but she refused to let her compromise the investigation.
The weight of the crime scene hung heavily in the air, and Olivia knew that every decision she made could mean the difference between justice and failure. She took a deep breath, pushed aside her irritation, and focused her attention on the task at hand. They needed to find this killer and bring him to justice, no matter the cost.
Nathan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his eyes conveying a sense of understanding. Olivia gave him a small nod, silently acknowledging his support. She knew she couldn't do this alone, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit that she needed Nathan, she needed a partner.
Olivia couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. She glanced around nervously but saw no one suspicious. It was just her imagination playing tricks on her, she told herself.
But as they got in the car and drove away from the crime scene, Olivia couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. She knew they were getting closer to the killer, but would too many dead ends leave them with another body to find?
Detective Olivia Collins stood in the bustling bullpen, her eyes fixed on the whiteboard filled with graphic crime scene photos, maps, and notes. Nathan, Patel, and Diaz were huddled together deep in discussion about the recent murder case they had just investigated, but their energy was tense and strained.
Olivia's stomach churned as she looked at the evidence laid out before her. She knew that they had to catch this killer before they struck again, but she wasn't sure if she could rely on her team to do it. A touch of frustration mixed with a sense of betrayal began to fill her chest as she wondered how many more victims would be caught in the crossfire if she didn't take matters into her own hands.
Olivia's eyes lingered on the note, her pulse pounding in her ears. It was a stark reminder that she had been dragged into this sinister game. The bold black ink of the words left her feeling hollow and exposed, almost as if someone was watching her.
Her gaze moved to the last letter, and without warning a vision hit her like a freight train. She stumbled back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Why me?” she whispered, desperate for an answer but receiving nothing but silence. With trembling fingers, she traced each letter of the note as if they held the key to solving this puzzle.
As Olivia read the last word of the letter, a wave of icy terror shuddered through her body and hurled her into the past. She was back in that cabin. Toxic memories filled her senses – smoky air, stale fear, and a key thrust into her face demanding she return what once belonged to them.
“Olivia, are you with us?” Then Nathan's voice shattered the vision and drew Olivia back to the present. Her heart pounded as she focused on his words, forcing out a nod in response.
Fear gripped Olivia as a chilling realization washed over her. The echoes of her past intertwined with the present, creating a web of uncertainty and dread. The possibility that the same faceless man who had haunted her nightmares before was now connected to their current investigation sent shivers down her spine.
“It’s him, the man from the cabin…” her voice trembled.
She struggled to recall his face, desperately sifting through her memories, but it remained elusive, like a phantom haunting the recesses of her mind. Once, his visage had been imprinted on her consciousness, an indelible mark of terror. Now, it seemed to have vanished, leaving only a void where his features should be.
The previous case had consumed her, driven her to the edge of sanity as they chased a man without a face. Their efforts had been in vain, unable to capture him and bring him to justice. But the victims then had been different, their deaths following a different pattern. Now, a new trail of evidence pointed to a man who seemed sloppier, leaving behind clues that Olivia had managed to trace.
A sinking feeling settled in Olivia's gut as she questioned the intentionality behind the change in modus operandi. Was it deliberate? Had the faceless man intentionally altered his approach to lure her back into the nightmare that had once consumed her? She couldn't shake the nagging doubt that there was a connection between the two cases, one that reached far deeper than she could comprehend.
The memories of her previous encounters with the faceless man taunted her, playing like a haunting melody in her mind. She had fought hard to overcome the fear and trauma he had inflicted upon her, but now, it seemed he was resurfacing, refusing to be forgotten. His absence in her memories only served to heighten the unease, as if he were manipulating the shadows from the depths of her subconscious.
Gasping for air, Olivia felt as though invisible hands were tightening around her throat, constricting her breath. Panic surged through her veins, intensifying the sensation of suffocation. She stumbled backward, desperate to escape the confines of the suffocating room.
The weight of the investigation, the taunting note, and the haunting memories collided within her, overwhelming her senses. It was as if the air itself had turned heavy, making it difficult to draw in a single breath. She clawed at the collar of her shirt, desperately trying to loosen the imaginary grip on her throat.
“Get... Get out,” Olivia gasped, her voice strained and ragged. She stumbled towards the exit, her heart pounding in her chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Every step felt like an eternity, the need for fresh air becoming all-consuming.
As she burst through the doors, the outside world greeted her with a rush of cool breeze. Olivia inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with much-needed oxygen. The weight on her chest began to ease, though a lingering sense of unease still lingered in the recesses of her mind.
Leaning against the wall, Olivia closed her eyes and focused on regulating her breathing. In and out. In and out. She repeated the mantra, willing her racing heart to calm itself. Gradually, the tightness in her chest subsided, replaced by a sense of clarity.
The open space around her provided a respite from the suffocating confines of the investigation room. The bustling sounds of the city filled her ears, grounding her in the present moment. With each passing breath, Olivia regained control over her body and mind.
But the lingering feeling of suffocation remained, a constant reminder of the darkness that surrounded her. The faceless man, the unresolved memories, and the taunting note had woven a web of fear that seemed impossible to escape. It was as if the very air she breathed carried the weight of her past and the impending danger of the present.
Taking one last breath, Olivia straightened her shoulders. Fear could not consume her, she couldn’t let it. Not with the case, the victims who needed justice, unsolved.
As she turned to head back into the station, something caught Olivia’s eye. A tan-colored envelope was on the windshield of her unmarked squad car.