Chapter 1

I drove across the gravelly road to the entrance of the town.

Crows were cawing, birds were chirping and there were the mundane sounds of engines and people gallivanting about their day’s work. It was as normal as a quiet, peaceful town as can be.

I was now driving a rented Ford with my luggage stuffed at the back. Earlier at nine in the morning, I arrived at the airport and rented the car to use for my excursion. I had already dyed my hair into a rich blonde color last night and was now wearing a pair of green contacts.

It had only taken me a half-hour drive to reach Sylvan from the airport after a detour at a Jollibee drive-thru.

Now, as I slowly drove across the town with bag of french fries and vegetable burger beside me, I tried to locate a hotel building where I could stay in.

Using the street signs directing me to a hotel, I made my way to my destination and drove past a supermarket where some people came and went. I was just about to make a right turn in the intersection when I found an interesting personality.

With obsidian black hair and calm, deep gray eyes, the victim’s brother, whom I knew to be Keith Roberts could be immediately classified as gorgeous. He looked more attractive in person than in the photographs I’ve seen from the files; his smoothly tanned skin and manly features being made more vivid under the glaring midday sun.

Keith was walking casually on the pavement with a half full grocery bag on one hand. He was facing forwards, granting me visuals of his profile. His posture was slightly hunched and his fingers unconsciously twitching, suggesting that he'd had an office job, or was in the habit of sitting in front of his desk for hours.

I smiled to myself through the car window.

Indeed, this was a pleasant coincidence and the perfect opportunity to get myself slowly into Samantha’s intimate relations.

I saw my chance and seized it with an iron grip. Slowly, I rolled down to a stop beside the unsuspecting specimen and opened my car door.

Closing it behind me, I approached behind Keith’s figure.

“Excuse me! Sir?”

He kept walking forwards and it wasn’t until I ran to catch up and poke him on the lat muscles did he turn to face me.

Keith blinked at me once, clearly confused why a stranger like me had poked him literally.

I smiled up at him from the outside, begrudgingly taking note at how big he appeared compared to my 5’3 height. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to disturb you but I really need help with directions. Can you help me?” I batted my eyelashes innocently at him, careful not to overdo it.

“Are you lost?” he asked softly as if he were talking to a child. Standing beside him, I did look a child.

“No.” I shook my head, feeling belittled. “But I just got in town for vacation. I wanted to find a hotel or an apartment or maybe a lodging house to stay in. Will you help me?”

We maintained eye contact for a moment, and I wondered how such a simple man like him could hold so much beauty.

He was only garbed in a plain light green shirt which couldn’t hide the smooth muscles he had underneath. There were tired lines underneath his eyes which possibly meant that his older sister’s sudden disappearance had cost a toll on him.

I was older than him by a few months but he looked more mature than how he should’ve been with his tired look and rough appearance.

Based on the creases on his unkempt clothes, it seemed as though he had just thrown on his shirt and pants without any particular efforts to look good. Though his features were as perfect as could be, he didn’t seem to be aware of how much appeal he had and that just added to his level of magnetism. Give him some tattered and dirtied clothes and he could make it look like he was sporting a new fashion. I briefly thought of all the potentials he had: he could be a model; an actor…

“...Hello?” Keith’s voice interrupted my train of thoughts as he waved an awkward hand in front of my face.

I shook my head and shot him a disoriented look. “Huh? What was that?”

Keith's eyes narrowed, but not in suspicion. He was rather looking uneasy. “You were staring…”

“Oh sorry. I just thought that you could really have been a good model.” His expression told me he was taken aback by this.

Tsk. Tsk. He's a drop-dead gorgeous specimen who's ignorant of his own potential.

I cleared my throat. “By the way, let me introduce myself first. The name’s Clair," I told him, using a fake name. "Nice to meet you.”

“Keith.” He didn't shake my outstretched hand.

Oh, no nice to meet you too then?

“I will help you,” he said hesitantly, as though he would rather be somewhere else than with me. It looked like he was in a hurry, but was keeping himself together so I wouldn't notice.

Strange...

In just a three-minute conversation, I had Samantha’s brother figured out. He was modest, shy and quite ineloquent. He gave me monotone directions to the nearest hotel and even gave me the number of the owner, Felicie Olive, whom he had told me was his aunt.

I didn’t want him to go yet. I wanted to establish a better rapport with him, so I tried to coax him into letting me give him a ride home as thanks, but he just outright and flatly refused me.

There was no, “I’m sorry but there’s no need,” or “no, thank you.” He just gave me a simple “no” and left.

I can tell he's quite smart, but somewhat inarticulate. It was like I had been talking to a machine instead of a teenager.

Anyhow, I found the hotel he told me about, though I could have still done it without Keith’s robotic directions.

I booked a suite there on the first floor. I wanted to have a quick escape route if I ever needed to escape from someone, or sneak outside at night. Plus, if the hotel got burnt down, I could just jump through the window. I've jumped from way higher heights before.

The valets quickly assisted me with my luggage and brought them to my room. It had a classical rich brown and gold theme with one queen-sized bed, a large working space for me, and a pair of french doors that open up to a wide balcony area.

Once I closed the door and was left alone, I organized my belongings in an orderly fashion.

I wasn’t certain for how long I had to stay but I wanted— no, I needed order in my working area. After taking care of my stuff, I walked around the hotel for a bit.

The last thing I wanted was to make a do-or-die decision during a crisis. If someone decided it was fun to chase me around here, or if a fire or natural disaster broke out, I need to be fully aware of my surroundings in a methodical manner. That includes cataloging the environment, sifting through it and identifying exit strategies.

Hypervigilant situational awareness has kept me alive through years of fighting and catching criminals. And I wasn't about to stop this routinely observation.

Since this was a multi-level building, the windows were the most efficient exit points. Not many people know that the average human being can jump three storeys high and would still be alright. Sure, the person jumping could break a leg, but that was a more preferable consequence of survival than dying altogether. During disasters however, it's best to stay away from windows.

I also located the stairwells; there were two on each end of the corridors. During emergencies, it is highly recommendable to take the stairs rather than the elevators. In a chase however, it was optional.

After mapping out the entire hotel, I returned to room six and changed into some comfy clothes, diving right into the comfy bed. Sighing, I wrapped myself with the warm duvet.

The detective told me to give him a ring once I was settled in to meet up, but I needed enough strength to start functioning at full capacity. He was gonna have to deal with that whether he liked it or not. I was certain it was more likely the latter.

After a five-hour rest, I took a hot bath and got into a pair of sweatpants and a simple shirt. I tied my newly dyed hair into a high ponytail and threw in a cap.

Seeing as I was done, I dropped my suite keys, phone, my kit and wallet into a bag, then walked the whole way to a bike shop. I bought a large bicycle in black and blue paintwork and rode it around the town, committing the outlines of the area to my memory.

At 5pm, I returned to the hotel after securing my bike to the rail next to my parked car. I then changed backed into my nightclothes and ordered for room service to send me some dinner.

Before coming here, I had already printed the map of Sylvan in a 20-by-30 inches of Oslo paper. I did some modifications of my own after cycling the entire afternoon mostly on the east side of the town.

I memorized the routes so I began drawing the houses, shops and other outline in finer detail. Using the information Detective Michael had gratefully handed me, I also marked the home and work addresses of Samantha’s family and friends.

I needed to establish rapport with everyone. Blatant inquisition was Mikee's job; mine was a more subtle and intimate approach.

First, I needed to start with Samantha’s friends. Who better to know her secrets than them? After getting close to them, I’ll use our friendly relationship to introduce me to the Roberts family. I already met Keith but that didn't work too well though.

Damien Evans, Samantha’s boyfriend, lived at Ros street and works at a restaurant which was just a walking distance from his house. His route was predictable as I traced it using a green felt-tip pen.

The boyfriend, according to Mikee's file, has a daily routine of buying coffee en route and passes by the department store where Kassandra Port, Samantha’s closest friend, currently works.

I concocted a plan on how I could hit these two birds with one stone. I just needed to be at the right place at the right time to accomplish it.

Jeremiah Rodgers also lived in Ros street a few blocks away from Damien’s house but his workplace was a few kilometers away. He worked for Roman Clarkson at a repair shop, who was also a close friend of Samantha and a fellow batchmate in college.

I checked Jeremiah's file to see that he owned a car and a motorcycle, which could only mean that he drove himself to work. There were two possible routes for him to take there and luckily, in one of the intersections, he had to pass by my hotel on the way. I guess I could wait at that area ‘til he comes.

Lastly, there were Pamela and Lincoln Taylor; the identical twins. Lincoln was Samantha’s ex-boyfriend and owns a bar near the south of town. Pamela, on the other hand, is her friend and works as a barmaid in her brother’s bar.

I was still mentally tracing the possible routes that each of them would take from home to work and vice versa, when three rapid knocks interrupted me.

“Room service,” a muffled feminine voice announced through the door.

“Coming.” I first looked through the peephole to make sure the stranger was who she claims to be.

True enough, it was a singular woman dressed as a maid with a trolley of food. I unlocked my door and opened it for her. “Hello.” I beamed at her. “Come in.”

“Good evening, ma’am.” She pushed the trolley inside before placing its contents on my small dining table. “Please enjoy your meal.”

“I will. Thank you.” Before she could step out, I decided to ask her, "What's your name?"

The maid stopped to look back at me. She looked surprised but answered politely, "Carole, ma'am."

I giggled like a school girl. "Call me Clair please."

Carole smiled at me in a reserved manner. "Of course, Clair." She seemed like a guarded woman.

The hotel maid then left promptly and as I was just about to close the door, I saw her stopping along the corridors to talk to someone.

The said individual was around the corner, hidden from my view, but I could see a small shadow there.

I was curious as always, so I waited a bit to see whom Carole was talking to. Suddenly, Carole bent down to pat this person's head and a boy stepped forward to hug her, allowing me a clear visual.

The boy was around fifteen years old. As he embraced her, she spoke to him quietly but it was enough for me to hear.

“You should go back to your room, Tim. Mr. Olive will be mad if she found out you were here.”

Just then, the boy’s gaze which had been focused on her, shifted on me. It was a blank, deep sea green gaze, his plump and pink lips kept in a straight line.

I froze, rooted on my spot, feeling a chill run down my spine.

The woman then noticed where the boy's attention had been directed, so I quietly closed the door before she could see me.

I locked the door and sat back on the dining table in a daze.

What in the world was that? That kid… There was something about that kid that unnerved me. The way he looked at me...

I shivered.

I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that gave me those danger vibes from a seemingly harmless kid, but I learned to always listen to my intuition.

After all, it was better to err on the side of caution than to throw it recklessly to the wind.