Chapter 2: Return of the Kanker*
Marie Kanker wasn't sure if she was angry or exhausted as she slammed her car door outside the sheriff's office. Maybe both. Moving back to the old neighborhood wasn't what she'd envisioned for herself when she'd joined the FBI all those years ago. Back then, she was the youngest profiler on the team—sharp, driven, and damn good at her job.
Until she wasn't.
Marie still remembered the face of the last serial killer she'd helped catch. Or rather, the face of the one who had nearly killed her. It haunted her every night when she closed her eyes. A constant reminder that even the best could fall. Her mother had convinced her to come home to Peach Creek, to "take it easy for a while." After everything, maybe her mom was right. Maybe Marie did need a break.
Except the so-called "break" was working for Sheriff Langley, an old-school cop who thought women belonged behind desks, not investigating murders. The only reason he'd let her on the force was as a favor to one of his old FBI buddies. Marie's former supervisor had vouched for her, and used his personal connection to Langley to get her on the force. But everyone knew Langley was only giving her busywork, something to "keep her occupied"—like the latest case that had landed in her lap: a string of murders no one seemed to care about.
Prostitutes. Homeless people. Beaten to death and left like trash in the streets.
The sheriff had handed her the file with a smirk and said, "Here's one for ya. Knock yourself out. If you get too scared, ask on of the real cops to help you out."
Marie had smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks," she'd muttered. "I'll let you know if I find anything."
He'd waved her off, like it was all a joke.
Now, days later, she was no closer to finding anything than when she started. The streets of Peach Creek weren't like they used to be. The cul-de-sac of her childhood had grown up, and so had the crime. The homeless encampments and alleys where the victims had been found were filled with people who'd long since lost faith in the police. They wouldn't talk to her. Every time she tried to ask questions, she was met with closed doors and suspicious eyes. She didn't blame them.
But it made things harder.
Marie needed a new angle, a different way in. Something—or someone—who could help her get closer to the truth. She sat in her car, fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel, and scrolled through her phone, trying to clear her head. That's when she stumbled across a podcast.
The Cul-de-Sac Chronicles.*
The title alone piqued her interest. A quick scan revealed it was hosted by three men, and they were talking about the very murders she'd been assigned to investigate.
"No way, the Eds," she murmured to herself, leaning in closer. The Eds, now hosting their own radio show and podcast, seemed to know more about what was happening on the streets than anyone she'd spoken to so far. They were convinced the murders were connected. They were convinced it was a serial killer. And the police? Well, the police weren't taking it seriously at all.
Marie almost laughed at the accuracy.
Her first instinct was to dismiss them as conspiracy nuts—she remembered what they were like as kids, even though she'd had a crush on Edd and teased him mercilessly—but the more she listened, the more intrigued she became. These guys weren't just talking out of their asses. They had listeners all over town, people who were feeding them information. Their theories were well thought out, even if they were delivered with a mix of dark humor and bravado.
Marie made her decision quickly. She'd talk to them—without revealing she was with the police, of course. Cops didn't have the best reputation in these parts, especially with people already on edge. The last thing she needed was to scare them off.
--
The next night, Marie found herself outside a small, run-down studio on the edge of town, where the trio of podcasters broadcast their show. It had been years since she'd last heard about the Eds—back when they were just kids, running around causing trouble in the cul-de-sac. The Eds. Of course.
Marie wasn't surprised they had stuck together. But what did surprise her was how much they'd changed. They weren't just running scams or pulling pranks anymore. They were digging into things that the police refused to. And they were taking it seriously.
She knocked on the door, keeping her posture relaxed. No need to look like she was here on official business. A moment later, the door swung open, and there stood Eddy. His hairline had receded a bit, and he'd put on some weight, but he still had that sharp, calculating look in his eye.
"Can I help you?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"I hope so," Marie said, putting on her most charming smile. "I've been listening to your podcast. You guys are talking about the murders downtown, right?"
Eddy's eyes narrowed slightly, but he let her in. "Yeah. And who might you be?"
"Marie. I've been looking into the murders, too." She chose her words carefully. "I used to do some investigative work. I think there's something more going on than the cops are letting on."
Eddy chuckled, leading her into the room where the other two Eds sat. "Well, you're in the right place. This here's Ed, and the one messing with the sound equipment is Double D—Edd with two D's. We've been at this for a while now. So, what brings you to our little corner of town?"
Marie took a seat across from them, her eyes scanning the room for anything that might give her more insight into the trio. Old audio equipment, scattered notes, a few empty coffee mugs. Nothing unusual.
"I'm trying to figure out what's really going on," she said honestly. "I've been down to the areas where the bodies were found, but no one wants to talk to me. I was hoping you guys might have some info I could use. You seem to know more than most."
Edd looked up from his equipment, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. "People don't trust outsiders. Especially not anyone who looks like they might be connected to the police."
Marie's pulse quickened slightly, but she kept her face neutral. "I'm not with the police. Not anymore, anyway."
Eddy snorted. "Doesn't matter. You ask too many questions down there, and people think you're either a cop or a snitch."
Ed, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, chimed in. "But you're right. There's something big going on. We've been tracking it for weeks now. The cops don't care, though. Think it's just a bunch of 'low-life nobodies.'"
Marie leaned forward. "And what do you think?"
"We think it's a serial killer," Edd said bluntly, his eyes locking with hers. "And we think they're targeting people no one's going to miss."
Marie nodded, her suspicions aligning with theirs. For a moment, she considered telling them the truth—that she'd been assigned to the case by the very police force they had no faith in. But something held her back. Maybe it was the skepticism in Eddy's eyes, or the cautious way Edd kept watching her.
Whatever it was, she wasn't ready to reveal her hand. Not yet.
"Well," Marie said, standing up, "I think we might be on the same side here. If you find anything—anything at all—you'll let me know, won't you?"
Eddy smirked. "Depends. You gonna tell us who you really are?"
Marie paused at the door, smiling slightly. "I'm just someone who wants to see this thing solved."
As she stepped out into the night, she felt a strange sense of relief. The Eds weren't involved in the killings. They were the only ones taking it seriously.
And for the first time since she'd moved back, Marie didn't feel quite so alone.
