Ryan was walking away from the small restaurant he had spent his breakfast in. It was probably around nine in the morning and the small town was more alive with activity at this early hour. He crossed a road jogging slightly to avoid the oncoming cars and reach the opposite side. Starting down the road he dug into his pocket removing the cash he had left. The twenty-five he had left for the waitress he was sure was more than enough for his food and the crumpled up bills were the last to his name. He needed somewhere public somewhere that had internet access. A library was his best bet, chances were there were open computers he could use. Finding it was another story. Who needed to use a public library nowadays anyway? Books could be read online, read to you the internet had sources for all of that. The computers were no longer big black towers but smaller screens that could be left in the pocket and retrieved at the moments convince. No one needed to go to a library to find books anymore. He cursed under his breath. What else would have a public computer he could have access too? He couldn’t think of any and he turned the corner. Metal poles jutted out of the brick buildings displaying large hanging wooden signs. Crafted expertly each one displaying a different thing for a different shop. Cars were parked parallel up against the sidewalk. There was a small coffee shop he passed by. It wasn’t a mainstream place like Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks. The sticker on the glass boasting free WiFi for customers and the daily special. There was an antique store across the street from there, the sidewalk littered with displays of furniture and stands. There was a computer repair place with an open sign that was missing the light O. Which he found ironic that they could fix advanced computers but not the neon O in open. He started wandering by that point, not knowing fully where to go.

The crime scene was still fresh in his mind. She was executed, a bullet in the top of her head. He could see the scene as if he was there standing there near the counter. The man walked in just as he did, maybe he was weary or tired. Maybe not but that didn’t matter too much. He wore a coat, chances were he didn’t walk in with the gun in his hand. A gun out in the open anyone could see anyone would call the police. No, he was sure that he had a coat the gun tucked under his arm. Hidden from anyone who could see including the victim. Concealed he walked up to the counter. Where was she? He didn’t know maybe she was already at the counter or maybe behind one of the shelves restocking it. No, that didn’t matter because she did her job walking up to the counter when she saw him there. He stopped, he was thinking it was a man, but why? Experience told him it was but he also knew that women were capable of murder too. That and such a small caliber of a bullet. He cursed he needed to go back. See what couldn’t be seen. He would need a car, he couldn’t rely on someone to give him a ride. Chances were he could be IDd and that would just lead to more problems. His gut was alive again, this wasn't adding up. Nothing added up. Why kill her? The draw was open, but if she had opened it why shoot her in the head? Then there was the way she fell. As he walked his mind recreated the scene almost in real-time. He walked back into the rest stop and up to the body before he had moved it. Seeing her lying there in her own pool of blood.

She was shot in the back of the head, her back was to the killer. He walked to the other side of the body and knelt on the ground looking at the hole in her face. It was larger than the small entrance hole in the back of the head. Mentally he couldn't remember much more than that about her. He would need to see the body to make a better assumption. Shot in the back of the head, that was clear enough. Her back was turned, and she fell where she died. Forced to turn around? Maybe, the killer tried to force her into the back barking orders at her. So why not move her to the back? Better out of view of anyone entering. March her to the back put the gun to her head and fired once while she was on her knees. Much easier execution and quicker. The body may not be found until shift change in the morning. Why there, why upfront? More questions without answers. She was killed her back turned eyes wide. She never saw it coming. She had no clue the man had a gun no clue she was gonna die. He looked to the register nearby. An afterthought. He opened the draw after the fact. The murder was his goal and he achieved it quickly and efficiently. She had seen him come in that was sure. The man must have asked for something, something to have her turn around, her back to him. Then BAM. One bullet. That's all that would be needed. She wasn't moved or touched after she was dead. He stepped right over her and to the register.

He looked up to the ceiling for a second. It was blurry his head still piecing together the room but something was there. A vague black circle. A camera. It would have seen everything, the killer enters, the death, the subsequent robbery. Then Ryan showing up and finding the body. He needed to see those tapes, see the video from inside the store. He swallowed more air and looked into a nearby thrift store. He needed new clothes and a fresh shave. Then he would have to head back down the Highway to the store. The police would have made copies of the hard drives that the cameras were recording too. But they wouldn't have taken them, they couldn't have. The owners would need those copies for any insurance claim they would make. If he could get in there...He stopped himself and stepped into the store. There were dozens of racks of clothes, pants, shorts, shirts, jackets. On shelves were around him was other objects. Flasks, guitars, music instruments, books computers. There were old signs and signs with inspirational quotes on them that some family would hang in there home as decoration.

He used the last of his money to buy new jeans and a dark green jacket. He traded in his old pair of boots for black combat boots and outside on the curb he put the new shiner boots on. He looked down the road, he had crossed two streets in his aimless walk and could see down the road to where the detective was getting into his unmarked car. A black Crown Victorian with there being a push bar covering the front grill. Something he always wondered about. How did undercover cars get away with being undercover? Even with the newer chargers and mustangs, cops were getting, they were still that duller black grey color with the same bar in the front of the grill. He didn't know, maybe it was something people just didn't pay too much attention too. That was until the lights came on behind them and their hearts jumped up into their throat.

The car started and rolled down the street past Ryan who watched it pass. He didn't move from his position on the side of the road. He reached into the pocket of the jacket and removed the old flip razor he had bought from the store. He needed a shave, to get rid of the beard that was growing in. Ryan rubbed his hand on his beard tiredly again and letting his feet rest. He probably looked homeless. Not that that bothered him much, much easier to blend in. No one paid attention to the homeless man tiredly walking down the street. He started back down the road following the same path the detective drove off in and took the same turn. He still was following his gut as he walked. He then ducked into a McDonalds on the corner where two roads intersected. It was newer, being built with this white thick border that rant he top of the building then came down in an L shaped. The walls were this reddish concrete walls. He pulled his hood up to hide his face from the cameras and slipped into the bathroom. From inside he could lock the door with a top latch. The inside was just as new with white tile and grey walls. The stalls black with white dots, there were about six of them total. The sinks almost shined inside, much different from the normal dirty bathrooms you'd expect at a fast food joint. He ran the water knowing full well he wouldn't be able to stop it and pool it inside the sink bowl. Slowly he flicked it open and washed the blade under the sink. He would need to head back to the convenience store, but that could wait till the night.

Freshly shaven with a slight cut on his left eye he unlocked the door and stepped out and back outside. No one even noticed him come or go. He started looking for a park somewhere. Still, with his old sweatshirt he could ball up as a pillow he pushed on trying to find a nice quiet place to sleep. Eventually, he found a wooded area that he guessed also ran parallel to the interstate behind him. With the shade of the trees that judging by the angle of the sun wouldn't leave him until just about the end of the day. He collapsed onto the opposite side of a fallen down tree facing away from the road and slipped down so his back was more touching the dirt and grass then the wooden log. With the balled-up sweatshirt as a pillow, he looked around once more checking to make sure he was well concealed. Then he crossed his arms and closed his eyes for what felt like the first in days. Quickly Ryans breathing slowed and steadied as he fell asleep.