Page 27 of Echoes of Sin
“You call Bit a kid one more time, and you’ll be the one speaking with a high-pitched voice.”
“Duly noted,” Riggs said with a laugh, but Sylvie wasn’t in a forgiving mood.
“Believe it or not, Bit is in his mid-twenties. He’s kind, compassionate, intelligent, and beyond loyal. He’d give his life for any one of us, and I’d do the same in return.” Sylvie shrugged, though Riggs couldn’t see it. “Bit is my best friend, though our relationship is none of your business. Getting back to your question, there will always be things about me that I keep hidden from the world. You don’t strike me as naïve, Riggs.”
“Look, I’ve done some things in my past that I’m not proud of,” Riggs admitted as he walked around a large fallen branch. Sylvie followed suit, though the crunching of some dead leaves underneath her boot echoed behind her. Just to be sure, she paused long enough to skim the beam of her flashlight over the area. She hadn’t realized just how dark it had become until she’d focused on something other than the beam of light. “But when it comes down to it, someone knows everything. Family members, friends, colleagues…you name it, someone always knows.”
“An example?” Sylvie asked as she refocused on the path ahead of them.
“Tori Mills. A girl who I dated in high school. She was there when I spray-painted our history teacher’s car. Only Stan Beachman was the one who got expelled, because the spray can was found in his locker.” Riggs came to a stop. She could still see him clearly as he turned around to face her. “My point is that while Tori might not have ratted me out, she still has knowledge of something that I’d rather not be made public. I made some really bad choices when I was younger, but the town and its residents know me for who I am now.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Sylvie switched the base of her flashlight into her left hand. “Let me ask you this, though. What is the one thing in common when you hear family members, friends, and neighbors being interviewed on the news when asked about an arrest of a murderer, pedophile, or rapist? I’ll answer for you to save time—but he seemed so nice.”
Sylvie noticed immediately when Rigg’s gaze slid away from hers. He never let on that he wasn’t listening to her side of the conversation. If others were observing them from afar, they would never have known that the deputy was surveilling the immediate area.
“I thought I heard something myself,” Sylvie murmured before continuing their conversation. Their words might have carried before, and she didn’t want for whoever might be monitoring them to think they were aware of such observation. “We all have things in our past that we’d rather not have come to light. If spray-painting the history teacher’s car was the worst thing you did in your past, I applaud you.”
Sylvie glanced down at her boots.
“I’m glad we stopped,” she said as she leaned down, placing her flashlight on the ground in such a way that she would be able to seize it easily if she needed to palm her weapon. It would be easier to reach for her backup piece without any suspicion than it would be to unzip her jacket. “My shoelace is untied. Give me a minute.”
“You can take your time, Deering.” There was humor lacing his tone. He’d also swung his flashlight up the slight incline. Two beady eyes were trained on them. “Looks like you have an admirer.”
Sylvie wasn’t as relieved as Riggs seemed to be about the racoon staring back at them from maybe eleven yards away. The rustling that she’d heard before had seemed to be from something…or someone…heavier. Granted, sound carried and bounced off the surrounding trees in such a way that any disturbance seemed amplified.
“Do you know what the chances are that Luna Breen’s killer followed us through the Smoky Mountains the entire day without us being any the wiser?”
“Not as low as you seem to think given that most of the townsfolk knew what we were doing today,” Sylvie countered as she picked up her flashlight and stood, causing their little voyeur to scurry off into the darkness. Riggs would have argued with her had she not continued to explain her reasoning. “We’re on the main trail. We followed said trail for quite a while this morning before veering off into the unknown. We passed several hikers, bird watchers, and campers. It’s not that farfetched to think that someone could have followed us without us noticing them.”
Riggs didn’t respond right away, but she could tell that he was considering her point of view. For once, they seemed to be on the same page.
“Let’s keep moving.” Riggs had driven through town to where a small parking lot had fed into several trails for the hikers to choose from. “We’ve lost quite a lot of daylight. It will be completely dark by the time we reach my truck. By the way, I regret to say that the spray-painting incident wasn’t the worst thing that I did when I was young.”
Sylvie chose not to take the bait.
At least, not until they reached the parking lot.
They had walked in silence the rest of the way, and Sylvie couldn’t shake that something other than a racoon had been behind them. She still wasn’t certain that they were making the right choice in leaving the cabin sit for another twelve hours or so. Now that they were back in cell phone range, she would text Bit to press forensics into taking a hike up that way first thing in the morning.
“What’s your schedule tomorrow?”
“Whatever you want it to be.”
Sylvie caught the additional meaning behind Riggs’ words.
By this time, he had pulled down the tailgate of his F150. When he went to take her backpack, his warm fingers wrapped around hers. It was then that she broached the subject that seemed to have weight behind it as they brought their day to an end.
“Whatwasthe worst thing you did when you were younger, Riggs?”
Chapter Eleven
Brooklyn Sloane
October 2023
Saturday — 8:58am
“Impressive.”