Butcher of the Bayou

Part 11

As the days passed, the tension in Cypress reached a fever pitch. People whispered in hushed tones, casting suspicious glances at their neighbors, wondering who among them could be harboring such dark secrets.

Amidst the chaos, I went on a solitary walk through the bayou to clear my mind.

I came upon Mark, Sally's older brother; he was standing on the water's edge looking out, lost in thought. His forehead wrinkled in concentration.

I wanted to turn and slip away before he noticed me. I didn't go to her funeral. I wonder if he noticed.

"Fleur." He said my name but didn't take his eyes off the water.

"Hello, Mark." I racked my brain for something to say but came up with squat.

"Justices flow down like water, don't you think, Fleur?"

Is that a question?

I choose not to answer but instead walk over to stand beside him. We both listened silently to the water.

"Sorry to hear about Sally. It was awful what's been happening." Mark turns then, his eye looking down at me. His gaze runs the length of my body, and he smiles. "You have grown up Fleur."

I return his smile and fidget with my hair this whole situation is making me nervous. Maybe it's the guilt I should feel. I could have warned her family, could have tried to talk her out of going to see this older man in the city. I could have done a lot of things differently lately.

"Your mother, any word?" He asked

"No, not yet." My voice comes out low, and Mark reaches over, laying his arm around my shoulder.

"Have faith, she will turn up."

Odd, what he said. She will be okay, or they will find her safe and sound? But she will turn up. Like all the bodies of late, they seem to keep turning up.

"See you around, Fleur." Mark drops his arm and walks off. I watch him until he rounds the bend and disappears. The whole encounter left me feeling unnerved.

Mark and I shared a love for swamps. I would see him often over the years before he left for college, wandering around the murky waters. He always had that thoughtful expression on his face. On several occasions, I found myself wondering what he was thinking about as he looked out over the waters.

In the small, close-knit town of Cypress, Mark was known as the quintessential boy-next-door. With his charming smile and easygoing demeanor, he was well-liked by everyone in the community. Mark was the epitome of the golden boy, whose presence seemed to light up every room he entered. He was the one who always had a kind word and a helping hand to offer, the one who made everyone feel welcome and included.

There was a sadness behind his smile, a sense of loneliness that he tried so hard to conceal. But beneath his affable facade lurked a darkness. One I recognized when I looked in the mirror.

Could Mark be the wolf in sheep's clothing, preying on the innocence of our town? Was he the architect of our worst nightmares, a predator lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike?

Did Sally know? Is that why she was killed?

As the weight of this thought settled like a heavy stone in my stomach, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that accompanied it. Mark, the last person I would have suspected, is he hiding a sinister secret beneath his facade of normalcy?

Did he have something to do with Mother's disappearance? I found myself consumed by the disappearance of my mother. With each passing moment, the fear and uncertainty gnawed at my insides like a relentless predator, driving me to the brink of despair. I couldn't bear the thought of her out there alone, vulnerable and in danger.