Brisbane Murders: The Chilling Link to Storms

I watched the TV, barely breathing.

Sarah Harrington. Twenty-seven. Found dead near a Brisbane reservoir. The media had latched onto the “Storm Killer” label—again. Another body. Another storm.

I knew her. She’d posed for me once. One shoot, maybe two. She wasn’t close, but familiar enough to cause a twitch beneath my skin. Familiar enough to be remembered.

Police said she was likely meeting someone. I wondered if she had. I wondered if that someone was me.

The screen changed to a reporter, then a detective.

“We’re looking for anyone who may have seen a woman wearing a blue skirt and white tank top…”

I thought about deleting the photos. But didn’t.

I thought about wiping the drives. But didn’t.

Instead, I leaned back and let the hum of panic wash over me.

It wasn’t just Sarah.

Charlene. Sherie. They said there could be a connection.

Could there?

A pattern, perhaps. Or maybe just the media reaching for lightning.

I hadn’t even realized it was a storm night until they said it. The rain had always felt like cover. But now it was a clue.

That’s the thing about storms—they wash away evidence, but they also draw attention.

I’d always loved how thunder drowned out screams.

But maybe it echoed more than I thought.

[from SEETHINGS, downloadable and free for a limited time].