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Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

She knows him. He shrouds bright blonde hair with dull gray, shining green eyes with a farce of crow's feet. He jams a nondescript faded baseball cap on his head, emphasizing the nonexistent shadows of his features. He lets his hair and beard grow unkempt, masking the roundness of his jaw. She knows him; because Uriah Heller is nothing but an alias. Uriah Heller is a middle-aged soccer coach, officially retired but still teaching kids out of the kindness of his heart. Uriah Heller has kind eyes and warm smiles for everyone, and a heavily-accented voice that could melt butter. Uriah Heller is a fake. Behind the mask lies Vance Simons, the rookie city cop on his first real case; five years undercover to make up for the five years of paper-pushing hell he'd endured beforehand. But the Valley holds secrets few know, and Vance was unwittingly offered to the sharks. Unknowing of the danger, he had thrown himself into his cover, replacing the naivety of youth with an affected air of experience. She had him pegged from the beginning. He may have the sleepy town of Ombre Valley fooled, but she knows him.

He knows her. She cloaks her graying hair in shades of vibrant auburn, moulds crow's feet she'd rather not have into young, pliable skin. She curls her hair and piles on makeup, smoothing away the evidence of her years. She parades eerily white teeth, perfectly shaped, while her ageing gums hide underneath. He knows her; because Katrina Rembrandt is nothing but an alias. Katrina Rembrandt is a young soul who takes advanced dance classes at a college just out of town, but she's also a local performer, both on the street and in the theatre. Katrina Rembrandt flits about town, never in the same place twice, intriguing locals with her ethereal air. Katrina Rembrandt is a fake. Behind the mask lies Olive Perkins, the small-town firecracker turned serial robber and arsonist of opportunity; the wisdom of experience and age turning her deadly. The Valley feels right at home for her, and she has no problem egging on the sharks. Flirting with danger, she had thrown herself into her cover, freely disrobing of expertise and respect to garnish herself with wide-eyed wonder and shy looks. He had seen through her upon first meeting. She may have the sleepy town of Ombre Valley fooled, but he knows her.

They play each other's games. Each chance meeting is either dealt with in purposeful silence or violent exchanges. Katrina and Uriah have never gotten along: one too mired in the past, one too dazzled by the future. Words fly between them, none of them pleasant, and so do the rumours. Townspeople are quick to substitute their own theory for eyewitness fact. Uriah is starting to slip. Katrina is Uriah's long-lost daughter. Uriah strangled Katrina. Katrina publicly slept with Uriah. No one can settle on a proper reading of the two, and so they remain the talk of the town. But talk also reaches the sharks, and the sharks begin to circle.

Vance has been waiting for this! Five years a grizzled old teddy bear and finally he's getting somewhere. His real case had been small-time. There'd been evidence of a string of robberies, but he'd already found the culprit. Now he was onto something big. This could make his career. He just needed an in, an offering to satisfy them.

Olive has been waiting so long for this. Countless years in small towns, pulling small jobs and now she's finally got their eye. Sure, it had been fun: learning the ins and outs, getting away with everything but murder. And she couldn't forget messing with Vance a bit. However, now she had the chance to spend her twilight years in infamy. This could be it. This could be it! She just needed an in, a tantalizing enough offer.

About town, they keep up appearances: arguments that come to blows, suffocating silence to match suffocating looks. The rumours keep flying, more and more fantastical. Uriah continues to teach kids and steal hearts; Katrina continues to learn and perform and dazzle. They circle dangerously, destined to crash.

When they get home at night, stripping lies like articles of clothing, there's always a moment. Their houses lie right across from one another, and they always arrive home around the same time. Somewhere between chores and relaxation, there's always a moment. Just before each enters their respective houses, there's a shared look. Just a glance, but it strikes its mark with perfect accuracy. In each other's eyes, they read three chilling words: "I know you."

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

She knows him. He shrouds bright blonde hair with dull gray, shining green eyes with a farce of crow's feet. He jams a nondescript faded baseball cap on his head, emphasizing the nonexistent shadows of his features. He lets his hair and beard grow unkempt, masking the roundness of his jaw. She knows him; because Uriah Heller is nothing but an alias. Uriah Heller is a middle-aged soccer coach, officially retired but still teaching kids out of the kindness of his heart. Uriah Heller has kind eyes and warm smiles for everyone, and a heavily-accented voice that could melt butter. Uriah Heller is a fake. Behind the mask lies Vance Simons, the rookie city cop on his first real case; five years undercover to make up for the five years of paper-pushing hell he'd endured beforehand. But the Valley holds secrets few know, and Vance was unwittingly offered to the sharks. Unknowing of the danger, he had thrown himself into his cover, replacing the naivety of youth with an affected air of experience. She had him pegged from the beginning. He may have the sleepy town of Ombre Valley fooled, but she knows him.

He knows her. She cloaks her graying hair in shades of vibrant auburn, moulds crow's feet she'd rather not have into young, pliable skin. She curls her hair and piles on makeup, smoothing away the evidence of her years. She parades eerily white teeth, perfectly shaped, while her ageing gums hide underneath. He knows her; because Katrina Rembrandt is nothing but an alias. Katrina Rembrandt is a young soul who takes advanced dance classes at a college just out of town, but she's also a local performer, both on the street and in the theatre. Katrina Rembrandt flits about town, never in the same place twice, intriguing locals with her ethereal air. Katrina Rembrandt is a fake. Behind the mask lies Olive Perkins, the small-town firecracker turned serial robber and arsonist of opportunity; the wisdom of experience and age turning her deadly. The Valley feels right at home for her, and she has no problem egging on the sharks. Flirting with danger, she had thrown herself into her cover, freely disrobing of expertise and respect to garnish herself with wide-eyed wonder and shy looks. He had seen through her upon first meeting. She may have the sleepy town of Ombre Valley fooled, but he knows her.

They play each other's games. Each chance meeting is either dealt with in purposeful silence or violent exchanges. Katrina and Uriah have never gotten along: one too mired in the past, one too dazzled by the future. Words fly between them, none of them pleasant, and so do the rumours. Townspeople are quick to substitute their own theory for eyewitness fact. Uriah is starting to slip. Katrina is Uriah's long-lost daughter. Uriah strangled Katrina. Katrina publicly slept with Uriah. No one can settle on a proper reading of the two, and so they remain the talk of the town. But talk also reaches the sharks, and the sharks begin to circle.

Vance has been waiting for this! Five years a grizzled old teddy bear and finally he's getting somewhere. His real case had been small-time. There'd been evidence of a string of robberies, but he'd already found the culprit. Now he was onto something big. This could make his career. He just needed an in, an offering to satisfy them.

Olive has been waiting so long for this. Countless years in small towns, pulling small jobs and now she's finally got their eye. Sure, it had been fun: learning the ins and outs, getting away with everything but murder. And she couldn't forget messing with Vance a bit. However, now she had the chance to spend her twilight years in infamy. This could be it. This could be it! She just needed an in, a tantalizing enough offer.

About town, they keep up appearances: arguments that come to blows, suffocating silence to match suffocating looks. The rumours keep flying, more and more fantastical. Uriah continues to teach kids and steal hearts; Katrina continues to learn and perform and dazzle. They circle dangerously, destined to crash.

When they get home at night, stripping lies like articles of clothing, there's always a moment. Their houses lie right across from one another, and they always arrive home around the same time. Somewhere between chores and relaxation, there's always a moment. Just before each enters their respective houses, there's a shared look. Just a glance, but it strikes its mark with perfect accuracy. In each other's eyes, they read three chilling words: "I know you."