The Homecoming

Chapter 4

It wasn't the first time Cal stood on the banks of the Riverton River, and it wasn't the first time he felt like the world had stopped moving while he didn't. We're only here once.

The water lapped softly at the shore. Reeds whispered. Behind him, Alexis waited in silence, arms folded, head tilted in that familiar way she always did when she knew he needed space before speaking.

"I didn't listen to it at first," Cal said finally, his voice low. "The voicemail. I was scared of what it might say."

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flash drive. The red film coating the metal was worn down at the edges, as if it had been clenched too often, too hard.

Alexis raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

He nodded, eyes still on the river. "I couldn't risk keeping it in cloud storage. Too many eyes. Too many ways it could disappear."

She took it carefully, like it was something sacred. "Have you played it since?"

"Only once." His voice was clipped. "Two years ago. When I finally stopped pretending he just... gave up."

Alexis didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She was already connecting dots behind those steady eyes.

"We should go," she said eventually. "You've sat with it long enough."

<><><><>

They ended up in Alexis' apartment. It was small, lived-in, but organized. The books were stacked neatly along the shelves, one wall pinned with notes and case maps. Cal paced while she inserted the drive into her laptop.

"I've been tracking the pattern for a while," she said as she clicked through folders. "Three confirmed murders with the same MO. Now four with Franklin. One of them in Marrabel. All victims early-to-mid twenties. All found near or in water."

"And all with that damned P." Cal muttered, rubbing his temple. "What does it even stand for?"

"Pain. Punishment. Past." Alexis shrugged lightly. "It's deliberate, whatever it is."

The file opened with a hollow ping. The audio crackled for a moment before the message began.

"Hey, Cal... if you're hearing this, then I guess I either chickened out or... worse. I'm not sure. Look, I need you to know something. I saw something. Heard something I wasn't meant to. It's about them. About us and many others. It's all calculated. All of it. And if anything happens to me, don't believe what they say. They're watching me, Cal. They're watching all of us."

The silence that followed felt heavier than the words.

Cal exhaled sharply, sitting down at last. "He knew. He knew, and I didn't listen."

Alexis turned to him. "You were kids. And scared. That's not a sin."

Cal didn't answer. His hand had curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm.

Alexis turned back to the laptop and pulled up her case map. "I've started a board. You want in?"

He stood, his energy snapping back into place. "Lead the way."

<><><><>

The hours blurred. Newspaper clippings, coroner reports, missing person records. The fourth victim, Clara Franklin, had been the latest, found just three nights ago. Her bloated body was found with water in her lungs, glassy eyes rimmed with algae, and the riverbed silt caked beneath her fingernails. The coroner ruled it drowning—but Alexis had contacts in forensics who hinted otherwise. No sign of struggle. No defensive wounds. Almost like she let it happen.

Or was made to.

"Each of them disappeared within 24 hours of a family gathering," Alexis noted, tapping pins on the board. "Birthday. Dinner. Reunion. Every time, the victims were last seen surrounded by people they trusted."

"So, the killer uses those events as cover," Cal said without looking up from his phone screen. "Crowds. Familiarity. No one questions a missing face until it's too late."

Alexis nodded slowly. "And guess what's in two nights?"

Cal's eyes narrowed. "My mother's dinner."

"Exactly."

He looked at the board again, heart thudding. "Then that's where the next move happens."

<><><><>

The next morning, Cal sat in his car outside the Grayson residence, waiting. Karla stepped out onto the porch a few minutes later, hair tied back, backpack slung over one shoulder. Her eyes flicked to his car, then away again.

He rolled down the window.

"You walk fast or just ignoring me?"

She sighed and walked over. "Wasn't sure if you were here to offer a ride or interrogate me."

Cal smirked. "Can't I do both?"

Karla looked unimpressed. "What do you want?"

Cal's smile faded. "Clara Franklin. You guys were close, weren't you?"

Her posture stiffened.

"I saw her in your photos. You both went to the same science camp two years ago. She was in your chem group."

"What are you implying?"

"I'm asking if you noticed anything strange. With her. With anyone around her."

Karla hesitated. Then: "Clara was quiet, but she was paranoid for weeks before she went missing. Said she felt like she was being followed. That someone kept showing up wherever she went. I thought she was just stressed."

Cal's pulse quickened. "Did she tell anyone else?"

"She tried to tell a teacher. They didn't listen."

"Did she ever mention the letter P?"

Karla blinked. "Only once," she paused, frowning. "She said it kept showing up in places it shouldn't."

Cal's gut twisted. "You need to come to dinner with your guard up."

"Why?"

"Because whoever this is, they're not just targeting strangers anymore."

Karla gave him a long look. "You think it's someone we know."

"I think it's someone who knows me."