Water Under the Bridge

This was it. This was Aria’s chance.

If she could just nail that murdering scum, not only would she be the cop arresting the Bridge Killer, she’d be the natural pick for the new Head Investigator at Savannah PD Homicide Division. Everything she ever wanted.

Aria just needed to find that last clue, which was why she was ignoring the pesky knocking.

“Yo, Linden!” The voice behind her made her jump. “Wake up. It’s time to head out.”

Aria spun around and looked at her partner with confusion.

“Head out? Where?”

Jordan Michaels, her partner of five years, smirked at her with that boyish grin he had when he knew something she didn’t. Had something cracked in the case? Was the Bridge Killer nearby?

“I know you have never heard of this,” Jordan said coyly, “but it’s this magical place called ‘home.’ You know? That place most people head back to at the end of a really long day like today.”

Aria scoffed as she turned back to the computer. “I’m busy, Jor. I don’t have time to go home.”

“Why even pay rent anymore?”

“I’ll leave when I’ve caught this scoundrel. Waters dropped the ball on this one. I’m not going to let another innocent person be killed because of that.”

“Waters is a good detective. He doesn’t drop anything.”

Aria waved him off. “I’m close—I know it.”

“So, you’re gonna burn yourself out until you catch him? You’re no good to anyone dead on your feet.”

“I’m sitting.”

“You know my meaning. Come on, Songbird,” he nudged. “At least get out, get some fresh air, something to eat. My treat.”

Before she could make her next point on how she was so close she could practicality smell the bad cologne the killer likely wore, her stomach betrayed her with an audible grumble. Jordan’s knowing grin didn’t help.

“Gyro sub? Onion rings? And…” He leaned closer, pretending to hear exactly what her stomach was ordering. “Mint chocolate shake, extra whipped cream.”

“Meddle much?” Aria sneered.

It didn’t matter that over the last five years Jordan became the closest thing she had to a best friend—really her only friend. He didn’t have to pretend to know her so well. They went to the same six restaurants, and the deli mart was closest, and if they were going down Bull Street to the deli, they might as well detour to Leopold’s for a shake. It was logic, not friendship science.

“I just… I need to look at this one last thing.”

Jordon’s grin faltered a little. “It’s never just one last thing with you, Songbird.”

“He’s close, Jordan. I know he is. If I could just crack this—”

“I know. Then you will be the greatest hero of the SPD and will be the boss over all of us. That’s the dream.”

“And that means I can’t stop when I’m this close to solving the case.”

While Jordan looked at her there was something odd in his eyes. Why couldn’t he understand? Everything depended on her catching this serial killer who preyed on young Savannahians. She needed to catch him and end this madness that reigned over her precious hometown, and secure her promotion.

“Well,” Jordan sighed. “Don’t let me interrupt the dream. See ya, Songbird.”

Jordan turned and left, and it somehow felt… final.

Aria shook it off. They’d see each other tomorrow. He was her partner, after all. They were stuck together—practically sewn together at the hips. They were always going out for food together; he borrowed her washer and dryer; he always told her about the latest superhero flix. Jordan was always there and he always would be. And yet something nagged at her…

—

Hours later, Aria stretched her back against her desk chair. What was she missing? The Bridge Killer, known for leaving his victims under bridges around Savannah, had killed six men and three women, all between the ages of nineteen and thirty, and nothing connected them. A cheerleader on spring break, a science nerd, a fisherman, a law student. Some had families, boyfriends, girlfriends, others were loners. All races, creeds, religions, sexualities—nothing in common. Why would a killer target them?

“Officer Linden?” Aria jumped at the sweet voice of Margo, the SPD receptionist. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“No worries. I was in the zone again.”

Or the opera house, as Jordan liked to call it, another one of his silly jokes in reference to her musical name.

Aria spotted the familiar purple bag. Immediately the smells of gyro sub, onion rings, and a mint chocolate shake assaulted her senses. Her stomach cheered at the aroma, but she didn’t remember ordering takeout.

“Officer Michael’s left this at the desk for you.”

“He… He left it?”

Jordon never just left food for her. He always joined her.

“Sabrina was waiting for him.” Margo shrugged. “I guess he thought you might need a bite and grabbed it on their date.”

Sabrina? Chief Brackenridge’s secretary? Jordan on a date with four-eyes, meek mouse Sabrina? Jordan never dates.

Suddenly, the dinner didn’t smell quite so good. It was an afterthought… on a date.

Margo handed over the bag. Aria was no longer interested; even her stomach stopped rebelling against her hunger. She dropped the bag on her desk and grabbed for her water. She didn’t drink it; she just indulged in her bad habit and chewed on the plastic straw.

Why wouldn’t Jordan come in? Even just to say hi and bye. Sabrina could have waited five minutes. They probably weren’t even on a real date. No way timid little Sabrina was his type. Jordan liked… other types of women. Aria was pretty certain of that, though she never really asked him about his dating life. He didn’t really like librarian-type secretaries with tiny mice figurines and cat shaped sticky note pads. Right?

Slamming her water bottle on the desk, Aria shook the thought of Jordan dating from her mind. She had a case to solve. Jordan could hang out with whomever he wanted. Aria was going to crack the Bridge Killer case wide open and get her promotion. That was why she was at the station at almost midnight.

What was it that made his victims special? Why these nine people? If she stared at her screen long enough, maybe the answer would just—

“Dadgum it!” She huffed as her elbow knocked over her water; a flood of liquid spilled across her desk and onto the carpeted floor. The water trickled into a puddle, pooling on the grimy nineties-era carpet.

Aria stopped as she reached for the towel she kept in her gym bag. Water. Bridge. Fisherman. College cheerleader on a yacht. Could that be it?

Ignoring her drenched papers and the water dripping onto her jeans, she typed in every water, bridge, or boating word she could think of into the database dedicated to her victims.

There.

In black and white, blinking at her.

Savannah River Boating Club.

Summer jobs, private boats, parents’ boats, a marine biologist—each victim was connected to that club. Ten bucks said her killer was, too.

Spinning her chair around in her box-sized cubical, Aria reached for her phone to look up the Chief’s number. She would be interrupting his family time, but he needed to know.

“Brackenridge.” The Chief’s voice rumbled over the line.

“Chief, it’s Officer Linden. I found it. What connects the victims of the Bridge Killer. They were all connected to the Savannah River Boating Club. I’m heading down there now to see what I can find.”

“Linden, do not go without backup.”

“Sir. This has waited long enough. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Officer—”

Aria hung up before he could finish. She reached for her jacket and gun and rushed out of the station.

—

The marina was eerie in the middle of the night. The boats bobbed on the water like ghosts, their dark hulls mere shadows against a glassy river. The docks creaked under the weight of her boots. The club looked outdated and in need of fresh paint. Was this where he killed his victims? They never could find out where any of them were killed; the police only knew they hadn’t been murdered at the bridges where they were dumped. He could have killed them at the club, stashed them in a boat, and sailed away. Clever, but that meant more places where physical evidence could be left behind. Find the evidence on one of the boats and they’d have him. Dead to rights, as it were.

She stood still on the dock, the only movement being the gentle swell of the river against the pilings below. The night felt strange. A normal night by the river usually brought her peace, but there was something that made her uneasy. A slow groan echoed behind her followed by the hard thud of footsteps. Aria turned and spied a dark figure buried in the shadows under the faint light of the lamps along the dock’s edge. A knife glinted in his hand.

“I’m curious,” she spoke with a strength she didn’t feel inside her. “Did you kill them here, or elsewhere before dumping them?”

A rough rumble came from the figure—a dry, humorless chuckle. Clearly, he thought something was funny about Aria’s very serious question.

“Guess you’ll find out for yourself, won’t you?” he growled.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” Aria said as she pulled her gun. “Savannah PD. You’re under arres—“

Before she could finish her statement, the portly frame rushed towards her, faster than she would have imagined. His body rammed into her, knocking them both to the ground. Her gun slid down the dock out of reach. Before she could even try to retrieve it, she saw his knife above her head, aimed at her heart. She grabbed at his wrist as it plummeted towards her chest. The tip of the knife scraped along the skin of her collarbone. He was strong, but she didn’t train at the police gym five times a week for nothing. She wasn’t ready to die tonight.

She hooked her leg over his thigh and thrust her body weight against him. But he was clever, pushing her back to the ground, only this time she was closer to her gun. If she could reach it, she would have the upper hand. As Dad always said, ‘Never bring a knife to a gun fight.’

He slapped her, knocking her head against the dock. But Aria wasn’t giving up.

“SPD! Freeze!”

Jordan. She’d know that voice anywhere. He did come for her.

The sound of Jordan’s voice and the sudden flashes of red and blue must have surprised her attacker. His grip on her loosened just enough for her to reach for her gun, take aim at his stomach and fire. But not before his knife pierced her side. No. This couldn’t be it. It just couldn’t. But as her attacker’s body slumped forward against hers, the knife went in even further. There was no way she could survive.

Jordan and Detective Waters came rushing up and pulled the dead guy off of her. Jordan knelt beside her.

“What the heck, Songbird?” He pressed his hand around the knife still in her side as Detective Waters called for an ambulance. “What did you have to go charging in for?”

“Who—Who says I ch—charged in?”

“The Chief, for one. He’s not pleased about this.”

“But… I did it, Jor. I caught the… Bridge… Killer…” She sighed as her world faded to black.

—

A week later, Aria was ready to get out of the room, which reeked of cleaners and medicines. She never could stand the fake chemical smells of a hospital. Even if getting dressed was taking her three times as long as normal, she was getting out today. She was surprised that she survived the vicious knife wound that still burned beneath her bandages. Turns out, passing out while injured slows one’s heart rate and blood flow. That and a diligent partner who refused to leave her side until she was at the ER door saved her life. I’ll live to fight another day. Even if she was on sick leave for the next several weeks. But it didn’t matter. She accomplished her goal and now she would reap the rewards. The promotion was as good as hers and she could finally take a bit of time to enjoy life like Jordan was always telling her to. Maybe they could out and celebrate after she was released.

As she tied the knot on her tennis shoes, she saw the newscast. It was the Chief’s press conference. She’d been waiting all morning to hear him announce her success.

“I know many of you have been keeping an eye on the serial killer case known as the Bridge Killer, and I am pleased to inform you that a suspect, Terry Blankman, has been named in the killings. To give you more information is the lead officer who closed the case, Detective Levi Waters.”

Aria’s heart fell and her ears filled with pressure. She couldn’t hear anything, not while she watched Levi Waters take credit for her case. Her case. She was the one who dedicated weeks of her life to it. She was the one who made the connection. She was the one who cracked it, who found the killer, who nearly died trying to apprehend him. This was supposed to be her moment, not some detective riding on her victory.

Ignoring the sharp pains in her side, she grabbed the last of her belongings and rushed out of the hospital, barely taking time to sign her release papers.

At the station, the press conference was over, and Aria made her way to the Chief’s office. Ignoring Jordan’s look of concern and Sabrina’s surprised expression, Aria busted through the door.

“Why are you giving Waters credit for my case?” She demanded.

In his usual cool fashion, he looked undisturbed.

“Because it wasn’t your case. It was his. You simply made it yours without my permission.”

“Waters never gave it the attention it needed. I did.”

“You call burning yourself out, night after night, giving it attention?”

“I did my job. I caught the killer. I literally killed a man for this case.”

“Your shot wasn’t the one that killed him.”

Aria felt as if she had been slapped all over again. “Wh—What?”

“One of the other officers got him in the back of the head. Killed him instantly. All you did was nearly get yourself killed. And for what? Guts and glory?”

“I was doing my job.” Suddenly, the words felt weak. “I did what I thought a lead detective would do.”

Chief Brackenridge sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “I know you thought you were doing a good thing, that you were anxious to prove yourself for that promotion, but I can’t entrust my officers to one who acts first and thinks later. That mentality is necessary at times, but not every time. Waters is going to be the next head officer in homicide.”

If Aria had any strength left, she would have screamed. That was her job. She worked for it, burnt herself out on this case to get it, and now it was just being taken from her?

“Go home and rest, Officer Linden. You’ll need it.”

Dismissed. That was what he was saying. She was being dismissed as some petty, barrel-on-ahead cop he didn’t admire or even appreciate. Who was she if she wasn’t a respected, dedicated cop?

She turned away from the Chief and stepped out of his office. For the first time since leaving the hospital, she felt the burning in her side. She passed in front of Sabrina’s desk, lined with little mouse figurines, her sad eyes following Aria behind tortoiseshell glasses.

“Are you okay, Officer Linden?” She asked softly.

But Aria just waved her off. She didn’t want pity or sympathy. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to see Jordan. The guy who always made her smile, even when the world was crashing down around her. He would make her feel better, even if all she wanted to curl up and wallow in self-pity, cheap television, and chips.

She rounded the corner from the stairs to the second floor and made her way to Jordan’s nook that was too small for his six-foot frame.

“Hey.” She said blandly just to get his attention.

He turned to her, looking a bit surprised. “Hey. I didn’t expect you out of the hospital so soon.”

“Oh. I’m fine.” She lied. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat. My treat. I’ll even get you one of those ridiculous fruit drinks you like from the Pirate’s House,” she teased, knowing he hated fruit in his drinks.

“I’d like to, but I’ve got a date tonight.”

“A—A date?” She tried to maintain her composure. No sense in becoming more of a mess. “I didn’t know you were dating.”

“It’s new. It’s nothing much yet, but… I like her and she seems to like me.”

Aria nodded, feeling rather solemn. “That’s a good place to start, I hear.”

“Yeah… Anyway, if I’m going to get out of here on time to meet her, I need to finish this paperwork.

“Right. Right. I won’t keep you. Have fun tonight.”

Aria rushed away from his cubicle before the tears began pouring down. It was Sabrina, wasn’t it? She was something new, someone he liked, someone who liked him in return.

Stepping out of the station into the sharp winds that likely would bring a tropical storm, Aria realized she had believed a lie. She thought solving this case would give her everything. Instead, she lost her dream job, her credit for the case, and the one man who was always there for her.