The Lie Beneath

Chapter 15 : A puzzle made for two

I followed his line of thinking. "You're saying she didn't fall straight down."

"She was pushed," he said, grinning. "Hard enough to disorient, but not enough to show struggle. Subtle. Clean. Professional even."

"You say that like it's a compliment."

"Oh, it is." He winked. "To whoever did this. They're not stupid. Which makes them fun."

I didn't smile back. My instincts were thrumming now. This wasn't a simple suicide. There were too many details screaming for attention, each one a thread waiting to be pulled.

Marcus returned with a tablet. "Preliminary footage retrieved from the Grade 10 hall. The cameras are grainy, but you'll want to see this."

Marcus handed over the tablet. The screen flickered slightly before playing the hallway footage. Grainy and washed out colors. But movements were visible.

"There," I pointed. "Pause."

Lazarus leaned in, nearly bumping my shoulder. "Oh, no.. interesting."

The footage showed the victim walking slowly down the corridor, her head tilted, as if she were listening for something. Then-barely a second before the corner another figure appeared, a shadow stepping out from a blind spot near the fire exit. The angle was bad. No clear face. Just the sudden presence.

"She didn't see them," I said quietly. "Not until it was too late."

Lazarus whispered, "That's a textbook ambush. Silent and calm and even calculated. The shove.. probably done right when the hallway was quietest."

Marcus looked over our shoulders, frowning. "We'll have to enhance this."

"No need," Lazarus said, already swiping to the next clip. "There's always more to a stage than just the actors. Let's watch the background."

He scrolled back and slowed the footage to half speed. I watched him with a mix of curiosity and caution. His hands were steady, eyes wide, but not because of shock-because of excitement. He was completely immersed in this like a child watching their favorite show.

"There," he said, tapping the screen lightly. "See that?"

I squinted. Just for a second, less than a heartbeat. A glint appeared at the edge of the frame. Something metallic, reflecting light near the floor.

"A watch," I murmured. "Could that be hers?"

Lazarus's grin widened. "If our girl was already unconscious or stunned, the killer might've accidentally dropped the watch before pushing her."

"But then why take the rest of her belongings?" I wondered aloud. "Her phone, ID, even her dorm key. All gone."

"Control," Lazarus replied, his tone suddenly serious. "They didn't want her to be identified immediately. Delaying the investigation gives them time."

I hated to admit it but he had a point. Whoever this was, they were smart. Smart enough to clean up, but not perfect. Because perfect criminals don't exist. Only arrogant ones.

"Come on," he said, standing up again. "Let's retrace her last steps. There's more to find."

We left the scene, campus officers busying themselves with tape and barriers, but Lazarus didn't look back once. He walked fast, and I kept pace beside him.

We found ourselves at the fourth floor hallway. It was empty now. The quiet felt heavier here. Like the walls had seen something they couldn't speak of.

"She walked from here," Lazarus said, tracing the floor with his fingers. "But see this pattern? Light scuff marks. Dust disturbed."

I crouched beside him. "Someone waited here. Probably leaned against the wall for a while. Look at how the dust settled around this point. Someone stood here long enough to leave a shadow."

"It wasn't random," I said. "She didn't just happen to fall."

"She was called," Lazarus added, eyes glittering. "Enticed. Lured."

"And the killer waited in silence." We were talking in sync now.

He giggled, actually giggled. "You really get it! You see what I see."

I glanced at him. "Do you always enjoy murder scenes this much?"

"Only the good ones," he answered with zero hesitation. "The sloppy ones are boring. But this?" He stretched his arms wide, like presenting a masterpiece. "This is a delicious mess."

Despite myself, I felt a chill and maybe a little amusement. He was terrifyingly strange, but terrifyingly good too. And in this line of work, that mattered.

I stood and walked to the railing, peering down to where the body had been.

"She trusted the wrong person," I said. "And whoever it was, they're still on campus. They knew her schedule. Her habits."

"Someone close enough to follow her. But smart enough to disappear."

Then he turned to me, expression suddenly playful. "Do you know what I like about you, Rhianne?"

I blinked. "That I don't roll my eyes at your weird metaphors?"

"No," he said, grinning. "Well, yes, that too. But mostly because you don't argue. You listen. You think. You play along."

"I'm not playing," I replied.

He pointed at my chest, gently. "Exactly. Neither am I. That's why I want you to be my partner!"

I raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"In solving them," he said quickly, eyes gleaming. "Partner in solving crimes. You're sharp! And you don't complain when I talk like a lunatic. That's rare."

Well, in my mind i was. Iniling ko nalang ang ulo ko at bumuntong hininga, seriously? Talking nonsense right now in the boat of bloody case? I stared at him, searching for any hint of sarcasm. But all I found was raw, genuine curiosity in his eyes. He wasn't joking. He meant every word.

"This is not the right time to talk about this, and besides i do my work alone," I said, though my voice lacked certainty.

"And I work in chaos," he countered cheerfully. "That's why we'd be perfect!"

I didn't answer. Okay right, i get it. I knew his useful. His mind saw angles I hadn't even considered. And that curious me about how did he get that good, it also thrilled me.

The real problem was, I wasn't sure which part of that thrill came from the case-or from him.

He laughed again and extended a hand. "Just think about it. When the next body drops, I'd love to have you by my side."

No way, he expect another one to die again? I can't believe this man! He's ridiculous. Despite every red flag waving in my brain, I took his hand.

Because in this line of work, instincts mattered and mine were screaming that this was just the beginning.