Twisted Devotion

Forty Four

Detective Marcus Harris stepped out of his car, bracing himself against the bite of the cold air. The snow still clung to the ground, unyielding and stubborn, preserving what little remained of that night months ago. Jess had been found by here, barely conscious, her face bruised and pale, with no trace of Ava except the faintest of footprints leading into the dense woods.

The shed loomed ahead, weathered and silent, as if waiting for someone to piece together its secrets. Marcus scanned the area, his breath clouding in front of him as he moved carefully through the snow toward the shed door. It creaked open, the hinges protesting, and he slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him.

In the dim light, dust particles floated, disturbed only by his movements. Marcus crouched down, sweeping his flashlight across the floor, noting the faint smudges that had already been documented months before. But he was looking for something else—anything that might lead him to Ava. With the case going cold and Jess carrying her own scars from that night, he felt an unspoken urgency to find some resolution.

He carefully moved a broken wooden crate aside, its splintered edges jagged and sharp. He could almost picture the struggle, could almost see Ava and Jess fighting against Dominic, desperately trying to escape. The thought made him clench his jaw. The forensics team had done their job back then, but his gut told him something was still here, some piece of evidence lying just beneath the surface, overlooked in the chaos of that night.

As he looked around, his gaze landed on an old, discarded cigarette butt in the far corner. Marcus walked over, kneeling down to inspect it. It was half-buried under a thin layer of dust, as if deliberately kicked aside. His flashlight illuminated the butt, this detail hadn't been in any of the reports. It seemed strange—a remnant of someone other than Jess or Ava?

He bagged the cigarette and continued his search, digging through another pile of debris near the door. His fingers brushed something cold and metallic, partially hidden beneath a broken piece of tarp. Pulling it out, he realized it was a small key—old and rusted, with a barely discernible engraving. It seemed out of place in the shed, something too small to be for any equipment here. It was likely a personal item, forgotten or overlooked.

Standing up, he pocketed the key and straightened, scanning the room one last time. His eyes narrowed as he noticed a faint indentation near the door—a heavy boot print preserved in the frozen earth, different from the others cataloged earlier. Whoever had been here had been larger, someone who left an imprint even in the brutal cold.

Satisfied he'd done all he could in the shed, Marcus closed the door behind him, his mind already racing with questions. The cigarette, the key, the unfamiliar footprint—each clue was small, seemingly insignificant on its own. But together, they suggested something more. This wasn't just an abandoned scene of a crime; it was a gateway to the truth, one Marcus intended to pry open, no matter how long it took.

The snow crunched beneath his boots as he made his way back to his car, each step heavy with the weight of possibility.

Detective Marcus Harris leaned back in his chair at the station, the envelope with the newly discovered evidence resting on his desk. He tapped his fingers lightly, debating with himself. He wanted to tell Jess. He wanted to give her and Dr. Martin hope, something concrete to cling to. But a voice in the back of his mind warned against it. Jess had already been through enough; there was no need to get her hopes up if this all led nowhere. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that they deserved to know, especially after all these months.

With a heavy sigh, Marcus grabbed his coat and left the station, determination building with each step. He needed to tell them. They had a right to be involved, and perhaps a fresh perspective from someone who knew Ava well might help him see a new angle.

As he drove toward Dr. Martin's house, a familiar tension settled over him. This was personal for Jess, and as much as he wanted to keep things professional, he couldn't deny how deeply he'd come to care for her.

When he reached Dr. Martin's grand house at the edge of the woods, he took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knocked on the door, and moments later, Jess opened it, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.

"Detective Harris!" she greeted, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Did you... did you find something?"

"Jess, is your father here too?" he asked, his tone steady despite the emotion simmering beneath the surface.

"Yes, he's just inside. Come on in," she invited, leading him into the warmly lit home.

Dr. John Martin appeared in the hallway, his expression turning hopeful as he saw Marcus. "Detective, good to see you," he said, extending a hand.

Marcus shook his hand firmly, taking in the warmth of the house—the family photos on the walls, the subtle scent of something cooking, the comforting clutter that made it feel like a home. Jess was standing nearby, her grey eyes fixed on him with a look of cautious hope.

"I went back to the shed," Marcus started, watching their faces carefully. "Found some things that might've been overlooked—the kind of small details we might not have caught the first time around. A cigarette butt, an unfamiliar boot print, even an old key. It's not much yet, but it's something."

Jess's eyes sparkled with renewed hope, a small, involuntary smile spreading across her face. "You found something," she whispered, a hint of relief in her voice. "You really might find her, Marcus."

Her father put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his own relief evident. "Thank you, Detective," Dr. Martin said, his voice filled with gratitude. "You have no idea what this means to us—to know there might still be a chance to bring Ava home."

A wave of emotion washed over Marcus. The strength of the bond between Jess and her father was palpable, a quiet warmth that filled the room, and for a moment, he felt like an intruder. Jess and her father had been through so much together, yet they were still here, supporting each other, refusing to give up.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Dr. Martin asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "We'd be glad to have you. It's been a long time since we had... company." He looked at Marcus with a gentle smile, a genuine invitation.

Marcus hesitated, glancing at Jess, whose hopeful gaze had not left him. Part of him wanted to keep his distance, to keep things professional, but he found himself nodding. "Sure, I'd like that. Thank you."

The evening passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories. He listened as Jess talked about her childhood, growing up in this very house, her memories of her mother, and the way her father had been there for her after her mom passed. And all the while, Marcus found his gaze drifting back to Jess, taking in her fiery curls, her soft smile, the way her laughter seemed to fill the room. She had endured so much, yet she was here, unbroken, resilient.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, struck by her beauty, but more than that—her strength. The determination that drove her to keep going, to stand by her best friend despite the overwhelming odds. She was... remarkable.

And maybe, just maybe, he was in deeper than he'd ever intended.