Marcus “Mack” Alexander had never been a fan of the spring break crowds in Biloxi. Every year, the coastal city became a hotspot for young college students, especially during Black Spring Break, a week-long celebration that drew thousands. The noise, the traffic, the chaos—it wasn’t exactly Mack’s scene. But this year, things took a darker turn.
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It started as an ordinary call from Camille. She’d been at the courthouse all day, busy with work, when she called Mack around 10 p.m. with a strange case—a hit-and-run that had left a local college student in critical condition. The victim, a 20-year-old from New Orleans, had been struck while crossing the street near the Biloxi Lighthouse, just as the Black Spring Break festivities were reaching their peak. Witnesses said the car had fled the scene without stopping, and no one had seen enough to identify it.
"We need to find out who did this, Mack," Camille said, her voice steady but urgent. "The victim's in bad shape. No one at the hospital knows what happened, and the police aren’t getting anywhere."
"On my way," Mack replied.
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When Mack arrived at the scene, the street was still buzzing with people, some partying in the bars along the beachfront, others stumbling toward their cars or huddling in groups. It was a nightmare for anyone trying to work a case.
Camille was already there, talking to a few witnesses, her professional demeanor cutting through the noise. She spotted Mack and waved him over.
"Thanks for coming," she said, pulling him aside. "We have very little to go on. The victim, Chris Daniels, is a local student. No history of trouble, just here for Spring Break with friends. He was crossing the street when the car hit him and took off. No plates, no description. Just a vague memory of a dark sedan."
Mack looked around at the crowd, his mind already ticking through possibilities. "Who’s in charge of the case?"
Camille motioned toward Officer Davis, a young cop who had been stationed in Biloxi for the past year. "He's been here since the accident, but he’s running into dead ends. No one’s talking, and the people who saw the car are too intoxicated to remember anything useful."
Mack surveyed the scene, taking in the brightly lit streets, the bustling bars, and the dark alleys where a vehicle could easily disappear. He had to dig deeper.
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The first step was checking the local surveillance cameras. Biloxi was a tourist city, and cameras were everywhere. They managed to get footage from a nearby hotel parking lot that showed the dark sedan just before the hit-and-run, but the footage was grainy, and the vehicle’s license plate was unreadable.
"You think it’s a local?" Mack asked, watching the footage replay on Camille’s laptop.
"Could be," Camille replied. "But the car sped off in the direction of the casinos. Not exactly a place someone would drive if they didn’t know the area."
Mack’s mind raced. Black Spring Break had brought thousands of people to the city. Tourists, out-of-towners, and college students all blending into the crowd. Finding one driver out of so many wasn’t going to be easy.
"I’ll ask around. You check the hospitals. See if any local drivers were involved," Mack said.
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Mack spent the next few hours canvassing the area, talking to people near the scene. He even approached a few street vendors and hotel workers who might have seen something. After a while, he caught a break.
A security guard from a nearby casino told him he’d seen a car speeding toward the highway just after the accident. "It wasn’t going that fast at first, but then I saw the car veer onto the highway like someone was trying to get away," the guard said. "I didn’t think much of it, but it was a dark sedan, maybe an Audi."
Mack made a mental note of the details. An Audi. That was a clue, even if it wasn’t a clear one. He turned to the casino’s security footage and scrolled through the cameras until he found the same vehicle speeding away. But this time, he managed to catch a glimpse of the logo on the car’s rear bumper. It was a dealer plate.
"Dealer plates," Mack muttered. "That’s something."
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While Mack followed up with the dealer plate information, Camille was at the hospital, checking in on Chris Daniels. He was still unconscious, and the doctors weren’t optimistic. Camille spoke to his friends, who were devastated by what had happened. None of them had seen the car, but they told Camille about Chris’s interactions with a man named Troy, who was part of their Spring Break group. Troy had left abruptly the night of the accident, claiming he was going to meet someone.
"Troy’s been acting a little strange," one of Chris’s friends said. "He’s from out of town. He was hanging out with this guy he met in New Orleans. I think they were up to something, but I didn’t really ask."
That was all Camille needed to hear. If Troy had been involved, he could have been the key to tracking down the driver. She shared the information with Mack, and they both agreed to dig deeper.
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By morning, Mack had tracked down the car’s owner. It wasn’t registered to anyone local, but it had been leased by a car rental service just outside of town. The car had been rented by none other than Troy’s friend, the man from New Orleans.
They found Troy’s apartment in a rundown area just off the coast. Mack knocked on the door, and when no one answered, they made their way inside. The place was sparse, but there was evidence of a hasty departure—clothes thrown around, a suitcase half-packed. It didn’t take long for Mack to find a stack of receipts for car rentals, and sure enough, one of them matched the vehicle involved in the hit-and-run.
But where was Troy?
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It didn’t take long to find out. The car had been abandoned at a nearby gas station, its tires slashed, as if someone had deliberately left it to be found. Inside, they found a duffel bag with a small stash of cash—enough to confirm that Troy and his friend had been involved in something shady.
Mack and Camille put the pieces together: Troy had panicked after the hit-and-run, realizing the severity of what had happened. He’d planned to run, but his guilt had gotten the best of him. They tracked him down to a local bus station just as he was preparing to leave town.
When Mack confronted him, Troy cracked. "I didn’t mean to hit him, man. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that. We were just trying to get some fast cash. I didn’t know what I was doing."
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With Troy’s confession, the case was closed. Chris Daniels, though still in critical condition, was expected to recover. Mack and Camille stood together outside the Biloxi hospital, both relieved that they had cracked the case.
"You did good, Mack," Camille said, giving him a smile.
"Couldn’t have done it without you," Mack replied, looking out over the Gulf Coast waters. "Just another crazy Spring Break."
As the sun set over the beach, they both knew that there would always be more cases to solve in Biloxi. But for now, justice had been served.
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