The Mockingbird Murders - A John Riley Novel

Chapter 6 - Allies and Adversaries

Angie Greaves makes sure the camera is set and smiles brilliantly. She is happy in this moment, dressed only in her blue bikini and a brilliantly coloured wrap tied around her hips. Her curly hair is tied back, but bounces defiantly, threatening to break free, but only when it's the most inconvenient.

"Hi guys! I know it sounds cheesy, but I really wish you guys could be here with me. This trip is the best thing I have ever done and I'm absolutely loving it here. The people are lovely. Sure they treat me like a tourist, but that's exactly what I am, right? At least for the next two weeks. Melissa! You totally should have come! This is exactly what you need right now, not some stupid boy who doesn't appreciate how stunning and awesome you are. Yeah, yeah, I know not to get into it, but you and me: we gotta talk girl. Love you Gramma and Papa! I'm about to go scuba diving to look at some secret underwater statues and I hear it's brilliant. Love you guys!"

The morning sun glinted off the screen of Melissa's phone and Riley shifted in his seat to hand the phone over to Melissa. The car swept around a corner at that same moment, causing Riley to brace himself against the seat.

Melissa leaned away, a little flustered at the proximity. Riley had shaved his face and his head, his drunken-guy-at-the-bar image completely discarded. He was in ridiculously good shape with well defined lean muscle that only enhanced how attractive he was. With his head shaved, there were no traces of white or grey hair and he could have been in his thirties. His eyes were a dead giveaway about his age and experience; it only took one look to see how Riley carried years of pain. He wore no cologne, and the smell of soap and deodorant was mild and instantly forgettable, possibly by design.

The car straightened. Riley rocked back into his seat with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry about that."

Flustered, Melissa took the phone back from Riley and shrugged, waiting for a response. Riley just nodded thoughtfully, processing the information.

"I have the address of where she took the video," Melissa volunteered, "as well as the name of the guy who does the tours. I tried to call the number, but never got through. Weekes was supposed to follow up with him yesterday, but that was the last I heard from him and now I'm trying really hard not to freak out."

"How do you know Weekes?"

"Old friend of my dad's. I think they went to school together. When Angie didn't check in for the Zoom call with my grandparent's anniversary I just had a feeling something was wrong."

"And that was three days ago. How did my name come up?"

"There have been a couple of murders on the island that they're trying to keep underwraps. People on social media are talking about it, so I asked Weekes if he thought Angie might be a victim."

"You don't play around, do you?"

"My sister is missing. If we have any chance of finding her alive, I'd prefer for people to be direct with me instead of beating around the bush."

"Noted. Now where do I come into it?"

"Well he said it was unlikely that Angie was a victim. The killer has been targeting local girls, so there was nothing to worry about."

"You believe him?"

"I don't know what to believe," she admitted. "Look, Weekes said you were the best detective he's ever known, but that you also weren't taking his calls. He was worried about you—"

"And he wants me to come help with these murders."

"Yeah, and he wants you to help. He said to tell you that the Canefield Killer is back."