Outside, rain began to fall, washing away tire tracks near the landfill gate. Somewhere in the city, a phone rang unanswered. And the bay, dark and endless, kept its secrets close. If you need a more specific scene (dialogue, character arcs, or a continuation), let me know.
Sara, still in her jacket from the night before, drove the rusted pickup along the landfill road. The Waste Management Authority site was a labyrinth of gravel mounds and seagulls circling like sentinels. She found Detective Madsen already there, his silhouette sharp against the pale sky.
“Rose, we need eyes on Voss. Now.”
The medical examiner pulled back the tarp. Inside a torn black bag was a man’s blazer—expensive wool, singed at the edges—and a single dress shoe. No body. But inside the blazer pocket: a wallet. Sara’s hands trembled as she opened it.
Her ex-husband. The man she’d been hunting for weeks since he vanished during a custody dispute over their son.
But Rose was already at the marina. “Sara, I’m looking at his boat. There’s blood on the deck. Fresh.”
“Sara,” Madsen said quietly, “we need you to step back.”
She remembered the fight they’d had the night before he disappeared. Porter had screamed, “You think you know what’s buried here? You don’t know half of it.”