The area was quiet, the houses either sleepy or locked up tight. Even a skeptical resident would find some excuse to be indoors. Rhiannon spotted something interesting in the high school parking lot and meandered over to it. Some of the spaces were brightly painted, creating a line of rectangular murals on the ground. It must have been a senior send-off activity. Rhiannon walked along each one, pausing on a carefully designed mandala, then turned down Mitchell Crest Way, the side street that led to an athletic field out back.
There was a nondescript car parked close to the baseball field. Rhiannon laid a palm on the hood and found it warm. When she cupped her hands and peered into the driver’s side window, Rhiannon could just make out a police radio. Maybe it was Tasha’s detective.
The hunter looked around, her boots scraping on the gritty blacktop. The school building was dark. The only noise was the whoosh of an SUV taking the beltway. The setting didn't scream 'headless horseman' to her; all she could picture was a black stallion with a cloaked rider galloping through a foggy forest or graveyard, thanks to literature and pop culture. Nevertheless, Rhiannon did have an uneasy feeling, one that she didn't think was coming from her memories of organized sports.
She headed onto the baseball field. When she spotted the detective, she said, "Do you think it's weird for them, too? Leaping out of a book into this?"