#cportevent

New beginnings. The promise of spring, and the steady shift from cold to a warmer, brighter weather was almost inspiring. It brought a renewed energy, and revitalized her sense of purpose. And even though the case of her untimely disappearance was seemingly stalling, it didn’t deter her. In fact, the roadblocks that Castleport police had encountered appeared to stump them completely, and it worked in her favor, motivating her to keep on task.

The first thing was moving. The dilapidated Harborside Motel had long lost its appeal, and Rachel saw no reason not to branch out. The quaint motel in Rock Harbor provided her with a much upgraded base of operations, with the same amount of necessary anonymity, thanks to its location, far enough from Castleport but close enough to keep an eye on the ins and outs. 

The little seaside towns that dotted the Maine coast were usually packed with tourists once the weather warmed and Rachel was grateful for the cover, allowing her to move around with ease. The dark auburn wig certainly helped, blunt cut shoulder-length bob framing her face and keeping her disguised.

She’d caught a stray conversation in the town’s bustling diner a few days prior between a middle-aged waitress and a man in overalls who obviously worked the docks, about that ‘trouble in Castleport’, and her lips had curved into the faintest of grins. The news was reaching no doubt, fanning beyond the borders of her hometown and perhaps the initial reaction should have been worry, but this, this had been her intention all along.

The Spring Festival would pack the Castleport streets with plenty of visitors and Rachel knew if there was any time to drop in and see her handiwork in action, it was then. And so she donned her wig and slipped on a Red Sox baseball cap and a pair of aviators to complete the look as she once again, slipped into town.

Packed as it was, and dressed as she was, in jeans and a hoodie--very much unlike her normal ‘Rachel’ attire’--she knew she was scarcely recognizable. The irony in blending in with groups of tourists and townspeople was almost laughable, considering how badly she desired to stand out. But this was the long game, one she was determined to win, and the outcome of the evening would be sweeter than any quick, momentary burst of thrill.

Hidden behind the dark shades and under cover of the cap, she kept her gaze shifting from everything and nothing. Few times she’d managed to spot several of her former classmates, watching them busy at their booths (or in Finn’s case, helping the elderly find a nice shady bench). Keeping a close watch on them had always been the plan, and that hadn’t changed, even with the arrival of Jesse.

His sudden reappearance was a curious thing, and though Rachel had to tamp down on her initial reaction of anger, reason kicked in and she decided to view it as an opportunity to use his self-serving knack for butting in to her advantage. They were already pawns, her old classmates. And he would be no different, however useful he was at the moment. Nowhere near as dependable an ally as Mason, but useful all the same.

Because there would be plenty for him to capture today, as hinted in the note. The plans were already motion with Tina, who--as she rightly predicted--had followed her demands the night before, no doubt not wanting to risk losing that shack of a family diner. And Rachel had all the video proof she needed. For Sam, who would simply be a casualty, just because. And her grandest finale, the pageant. Well-timed, well-deserved payback for those who ruined her golden moment.