CHAPTER 1
IT WASN’T UNTIL ELLIE WAS OVER A YEAR OLD THAT GRACE STARTED TO feel comfortable as a parent. Being a mother hadn’t
come easy to her. She found herself slipping into bouts of depression during the first twelve months of Ellie’s life, as she
worked hard to reshape her identity. She had pulled inspiration from other working moms who seemed to be gliding
through their careers effortlessly, but Grace knew that her life would never be the same. She was now responsible for
another human. That alone caused an uptick of stress in her already full life as a detective and a person inflicted with the
ability to see flashes of violence in a criminal’s eyes. So, yeah, to say her life was full was an understatement. But, as she
looked down at Ellie’s chubby hand reaching for the seahorse stuffed animal that dangled from the top of the stroller,
she had to admit that she loved being a mom.
“All right, Brody, remember what I said,” Grace spoke to the aging oversized dog. “No pulling when you see another
pup, okay?” She ruffled his head, wrapped the leash around her wrist, and grasped it with a tight grip. Even with a
graying snout, Brody still had a tendency to dart toward other dogs when he caught onto a magical mix of smells.
“Da-geeeee!” Ellie shrieked. It was no surprise that one of the baby’s first words was doggy, second to daddy, of course.
As Grace expected, Mark did not disappoint as a father. He was front and center in Ellie’s life. He even gave up some of
his favorite gym clients, passing them on to newly hired trainers, so he could spend more time with his favorite girl. At
times, Grace felt like she was a third wheel, but she was grateful she still got to pursue her career and be a mom, a
combination she never imagined for herself before she discovered she was pregnant.
Grace pushed the stroller down the driveway and turned onto their street, somehow managing to keep their little
parade on the thin strip of sidewalk. She paused to remove the sunglasses from a bag that was dangling from a clip
attached to the handlebar. She propped the sunglasses on her nose, ran a hand through her ponytail and pushed the
stroller again, just as Ellie started to protest the pause in movement. The girl was already like her father in the way she
had to be mobile at all times. “All right all right, we’re moving again. Mommy just had to put her shades on,” Grace
apologized and Ellie settled into the bumps and mobility of the stroller moving at a faster pace.
It was early June and there was no shortage of signs that summer was approaching in Bridgeton. A handful of toddlers
played behind a chain link fence that framed the yard of one of the in-home daycares. It was only mid-morning and the
tots’ cheeks were pink with play, their clothes soiled from the green plastic turtle sandbox that sat centered in the yard.
Grace peeked over the top of the stroller and watched Ellie’s head turn in the direction of the chatty tots. Her almond-
shaped green eyes focused in on them like a laser, as if she could detect that they too could be her future playmates. Or
maybe it was that Ellie was privy to visions like Grace. Did the child inherit the same gift? Would she too, one day be
able to see flashes of violence in a criminal’s eyes. The thought shot through Grace like it often did and left her pulsing
with anxiety.
“Well, look at this big boy.” The voice pulled Grace from her anxious thoughts and back to the sidewalk in front of her
where a man was standing, reaching into his pocket. “Can I give him a treat?” He reached toward Brody with his free
hand and ran a palm over the dog’s head, flattening down the tuft of hair that stood up in disarray.
“Of course,” Grace said as she unwound one of the loops that was now tighter on her wrist from Brody pulling in the
man’s direction. It didn’t take him long to figure out this stranger had a pocket full of bones.
“Here you go, buddy.” The man extended his arm and gently placed his palm beneath Brody’s chin, allowing the
Newfoundland to slobber on his hand as he delicately took the bone. “Gentle giants these dogs are, huh?” The man
pushed a pair of sunglasses up onto the brim of his red hat as he made eye contact with Grace for the first time. And
that’s when everything friendly about the man was ripped away and replaced with snapshots of unsettling images. A
young man, with beads of moisture cascading down bronzed skin shows a perfect set of white teeth, before his face goes slack, his
brown eyes dim and close. And then a horizon of emerald-green trees on a blue-sky backdrop so beautiful it looks like a painting.
Before Grace can look away, she sees a white rectangular sign with red print. The only words she can make out are snack bar and
marina. The rest are a blur.
Grace sipped in a deep breath, reminding herself where she was. She may have been in front of a someone who was
involved in a death, but she had to act like a normal mother, walking the streets of Bridgeton, a woman taking her dog
for a stroll. “Yes, yes...um, they are gentle giants.” She forced a tight-lipped smile as she pushed her sunglasses up to her
forehead and braced herself for more painful visions from the man’s past. Her first instinct was to step back and peek
over the stroller to make sure Ellie was safely strapped in. If he went for her daughter, the belt would stall him and she’d
have time to pummel him and call the cops, her colleagues who were currently working just two blocks away at the
Bridgeton Police Department. This was how Grace’s mind operated now. It was hard enough being someone who had
this gift, it was a thousand times harder when a criminal was mere feet away from her daughter.
The man, with the confidence of someone who could profess their innocence in a courtroom, set his gaze on Grace’s
and with that came a flash of white rope, a handle of some sort dropping onto dark water, before it’s dragged through white and
blue foamy waves. The bronzed man with streaks of blood cascading down a leg, an arm, a shoulder. A cigarette falling, the red
glow of its light fading as it buoys in a ripple of moving water. A creek? A lake? The ocean? And then, a stream of blood carving its
way down the man’s chin creating a river that descends his neck and chest, followed by a beer can hitting the surface of the water
and bobbing like a boat. Finally, a bridge tattooed with spray-painted names, different colors and letters layered upon one another.
Tim. Betty. Bob. Lisa. Michelle. Emily. Linda. Buddy. Sammy. Charlotte. Mike. Diane. Cheryl. George. Peter. The names come in
fast bursts and swirly letters. Black, red, blue, and bright orange.
Grace looked away. She focused on the chirping birds and the still- squealing toddlers a few houses down. She watched
a passing car and contemplated what she would say next. “Do you live around here?”
“Born and raised,” he said. “How about you?”
Grace focused on his lower face, the pink edges of his narrow nose and the gray stubble that looked like Velcro on his
skin. “I’m...um, from Cabotville originally.” She concentrated on not sharing too much. If he knew, this man didn’t
announce his knowledge of her being a town Detective. Before Cassidy Shepherd joined the department to cover
Grace’s maternity leave, Grace’s face as the solitary female police officer stood out like a sore thumb. Maybe she was
losing her small-town fame.
“Ahhh they’ve got some nice farmhouses out there.”
“Yep, they do,” Grace responded, unsure of what conversation step to take next, when she was saved by Ellie’s demands.
“Go! Go!” The tot thrusted her hips up against the belt and pumped her arms forward.
“Okay, okay, well, I better go before she jumps out of the stroller.” Grace smiled. “Always moving, this one.”
“I get it.” The man gave Grace one quick nod, leaving a handful of images behind. The man with pearly white teeth tips his
head back in laughter before his eyes bulge in fear. And then, a woman’s face, her shock palpable, her dirty blonde hair, several wet
strings whipping in the wind. ...
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