All These Threads of Time by Sarah Crowne

Author:Sarah Crowne [Crowne, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WHAT'S GOIN' ON?! SLN Publishing, LLC

20

Find the Clue, Find the Killer

Sylvie was late.

She’d meant to time jump to Beverly’s murder, to catch the killer. Instead, she showed up five hours later, just before dawn.

Sylvie slipped her Walkman headphones off her ears, letting them dangle around her neck as the music still played. She’d used the music trick to help her jump, listening to a mixed tape she’d made to help her regulate her emotions with better focus. For this one, she’d meditated on Depeche Mode because that was the music she remembered from the party. Sylvie shut the Walkman off. She needed to take in the scene.

The area was blocked off with yellow caution tape. The sound of early morning birds tweeting filled the void of silence. They tweeted with ferocity, as if to say, “Nothing new to see here.”

Sylvie ignored their chatter as she tried to focus on the tasks at hand: find the clue, find the killer. She closed her eyes. The wind blew through her hair, taunting her with its chill. She shook it off as she imagined the scene that must have occurred a few hours before: police scrambling, detectives searching, stretchers rolling, white sheets placed on lifeless bodies. She imagined the officers telling Beverly and Bruce’s parents that their children were dead while rain thundered onto the clapboards of their New England homes. Sylvie took a deep breath to calm her heart. At least the dead bodies were gone. She wasn’t sure if she could have handled that.

Sylvie shrugged off her thoughts. None of that mattered right now. All that mattered was this moment. Find the clue, find the killer. She repeated the mantra. She opened her eyes and gazed once again at the scene before her.

There were numbered signs all around. Sylvie figured it was where they’d found clues, probably the bodies. She walked closer to the signs as she scanned the ground for anything out of place that might help her solve the crimes. There was nothing except leaves, sticks, and dirt. Sylvie felt defeated. Who was she to think she’d find something the police hadn’t, anyway? She was completely out of her league. Still, a voice nagged at her. Don’t give up. In her heart, Sylvie knew this wasn’t just about finding the truth; it was about saving June and Beverly. Even Bruce. Giving up wasn’t a choice.

Unless the killer was Bruce. Could it be him? Maybe it had been a murder suicide. Even if that theory was plausible, she just couldn’t wrap her head around it being the truth. Bruce killing himself? He seemed to love himself too much for that. Then again, Nonna had always said it was the bullies who had the hardest time loving themselves. “That’s why they act like that,” she’d say, as she’d urge Sylvie to pray for them. It occurred to Sylvie now that maybe she should have prayed for Bruce Martin.

Oh God, help me uncover the truth. Help me save them. Sylvie walked around the taped-off area again. Still, there was nothing.

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