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someone leave the house that night. Maybe they saw someone lurking around the area. It was worth a shot, but she also didn’t want to waste time. She knew it was possible that her old neighbors didn’t live in the same house anymore. After all, it had been over twenty years.

John wrapped an arm around her. He pulled her in close and kissed her on the top of her head. “Maybe you should get some sleep,” he said as his lips parted on her forehead.

Tara nodded. She was exhausted, and she knew that whatever she needed to find, she wasn’t going to find it tonight. But she also knew that this wasn’t over. She had hoped that by seeing her dad, she would find answers, but now she only had more questions—more suspicion.

Her head was now resting on John’s chest, and she finally looked up, meeting his eyes.

“I’ll have to go back,” she finally said. “You understand, right?”

John looked down at her and nodded. “Yes,” he said as he stroked her head. “Do what you need to do.”

At his words, Tara relaxed slightly. She hadn’t even realized just how stiff she was. She lay down, resting her head on John’s lap. She wanted to go to sleep, but she knew her mind was still too awake.

“Let’s just watch TV for a little,” she said.

John agreed and turned it on. They watched in silence until Tara’s mind caught up with her exhaustion, and she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer.

Chapter Six

Tara’s eyes fluttered open, but before she could even make sense of her surroundings, her phone vibrated on the nightstand. She sat up quickly, still in a daze, as she scanned the room. She was in her bed. John was next to her. Last she remembered, she had fallen asleep on the couch, but John must’ve woken her.

Her phone pulsated again, and John began to stir.

“Who is it?” he asked. “What time is it?”

She looked to her nightstand and squinted in the dark to read the name flashing across the screen—Reinhardt, her boss. Her heart leapt, and she felt instantly awake. She didn’t even take a second to reply to John before springing out of bed, grabbing the phone, and tiptoeing across the cold floor. Just as she exited the room, she picked up.

She was about to say good morning, even though she wasn’t quite sure if it was still late in the night. But before she could even utter a word, Reinhardt spoke.

“Good, you’re up,” he started. “I got a new case for you.”

“Yeah?” Tara tried to sound as awake as possible.

“A skeleton was found buried under the sand dunes yesterday after the storm passed, down by Dewey beach. They think it might be Alyssa White. She went missing last year, but the case went cold after a while.”

Tara felt a pit in her stomach. She remembered the news stories last summer. Alyssa was a straight-A student who had just gotten accepted to some Ivy League school. She had taken a trip to Dewey Beach with her family to celebrate, but then one night she disappeared. It sent a shock wave throughout the whole community.

But Tara also knew that she wouldn’t get a call just for developments in a cold case unless there was suspicion of a serial killer.

“And what, they think it’s a serial killer?” Tara asked.

Reinhardt sighed. “That’s what it’s lookin’ like. Homicide has been searching the area all night for evidence, and they just found another body about an hour ago.”

“You want me to head over?”

“Yes, I just got off the phone with Warren. He’s already on his way, so the sooner you can get there, the better.”

Tara agreed, and they were soon off the phone. She had only been to Dewey Beach once since she moved to Washington, D.C. It was about a two-and-a-half-hour drive from where they lived. Her eyes moved to the time on the stove. She hadn’t even taken a moment to turn a light on when she got the call, and the green light of the time stung her eyes—it was five thirty. If she left in twenty minutes, she could get there just short of eight thirty.

The light fixture above her suddenly lit up, instantly making her squint. John was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway to their bedroom.

“Everything all right?” he asked as he fully moved into the light-filled room.

“It was Reinhardt. I have a new case out by Dewey Beach. I got to head over there now.”

Concern washed over John’s face, but she could see his struggle to control it, not to let it show.

“You’re going to be okay?” he asked. “With everything going on with your dad?”

Silence filled the space between them. Tara knew it wasn’t ideal. She had wished and hoped that she could lay the issues of her past to rest before embarking on another case. But she also knew it wasn’t realistic. Her past was way too complicated, more than she probably understood, and she would have to chip away at it to get to the center. She most certainly couldn’t put her life or her career on hold.

“I have to be,” she said firmly. “I can’t put everything else on hold until I get answers.”

John nodded. “If you get any nightmares, though, if it affects your ability to perform, to stay safe…”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I haven’t had any nightmares—not since I admitted what they stemmed from. I’ll be okay.”

“And you’ll tell me, right? If you have them again?”

Tara could feel herself hesitate before she could speak. It was always something hard for her to be open about. She had always wanted to protect John from her pain, afraid she’d pull him down. And it was also something she had kept to herself for so long before she even met him. Learning to be open was exceptionally difficult. But she had promised him that she would be, and she knew their relationship depended on it.

“Yes, I promise.”

John

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