Mangled

by Zachary Prescott

  Hearing about the pictures his wife sent, Sean held his hand just slightly above the door handle and turned around, “She sent you pictures?”

  Mark looked perplexed but managed to nod his head. “Yes she did… the bunch of images just came through by mail one day and that was it”.

  Sean felt his interest piqued and he soon walked back into the room with a frown.

  “She even tagged it saying I should guard them with my life, which I felt was hilarious considering they were just pictures”, Mark continued before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out his cellphone.

  Sean watched on; wondering if it was exactly what he thought was going on.

  “How many pictures did she send?” he asked.

  Mark shrugged and toggled through his phone before coming across the folder in his mail. He clicked open the folder and scrolled downwards to get the count before looking up to Sean.

  “A thousand and fifty-one”, he replied, seemingly baffled as to why there were so many pictures.

  Sean snatched the phone from him immediately while Mark motioned to complain but held his words.

  ‘You could have simply asked for it though and I would have handed it over… “, he halted upon seeing Sean hold up his hand and asking him to stop talking in the process.

  Sean returned to the chair he once occupied, eyes glued to the phone screen and his finger toggling through the pictures as he zoomed in and out to get a perfect and overall frame of the pictures as a whole.

  “I’ll be damned”, Sean bellowed.

  Mark approached him, leering his gaze closer to the cellphone but unable to see anything of context. “What is it?”

  “She used it! She used it after all these years”, Sean smiled and mumbled in pride as he held the phone tightly in his hand.

  Getting back up and heading for the door immediately, he paused to look back at Mark but said nothing before turning around again and heading out.

  Mark raced after him and yelled, “That’s my phone… Can you please hand it back!?”

  Replying over his shoulder, Sean spoke, “Deal with it and get another one!”

  Sean stepped into the elevator thinking of just how much help he would need. He wouldn’t risk using any of his contacts in the CIA for personal reason, which left him with no choice but to ask one person and one alone.

  “I fucking hate this!” he muttered just as the elevator door shut close immediately.

  Chapter Ten

  F

  or the umpteenth time, Jake looked behind, trying to see if his cab was being tailed.

  With a sigh on relief, he stepped out as the cab pulled into his drive way and paid the cabbie, “Keep the change”.

  The thankful man bowed and waved his hand before speeding away. Jake turned back around and stared at his watch. It was almost nine already and he was meant to meet with the head of the forensic team for results as regards the lipstick he had given them to help him analyze. Unsure as to why he felt uneasy, his heart drummed hard and loud as he motioned towards his front door.

  Fondling his pocket for his keys and finding it, Jake slipped the right cut into the keyhole and felt it stiffen without turning as intended to have the lock unlocked. Stiffened in nerves and bracing himself for whatever madness had occurred in his house this time around, before gently pushing the door open and making his way in quietly.

  Absent anyone in sight, he could very well tell someone had been in his house; from the drapes parted open and his things arranged back into place just as they ought to be and not in the manner he had scattered them earlier, Jake couldn’t understand why the intruder was doing so much to mess with him. Still careful and vigilant of anyone possibly lurking around in his house, he approached the center table where a note lay.

  Picking it up and reading the words scribbled in pen with bewildered gaze, Jake heard himself read aloud;

  “I see you… I know every move you’d make before even making it… this isn’t payback but strictly business”.

  The words were clear as day and the writer definitely had some nous, seeing he or she had signed it with the familiar “smiley” face just at the lower end corner of the page. Jake held the thick paper in his hand and began to squeeze it gently until he could feel every inch of it collapse underneath his fist. His rage seemed inconsolable and his eyes watered with redness as he looked around for any more insensitive messages.

  “What games are you trying to play with me?” he asked in subtle tone before kicking against the table.

  Watching the glass layered table topple over and land with a loud crash didn’t bother him as his mind wandered on whether the perpetrator was coming back again to have it fixed or arranged where it ought to be.

  “Shit!” he yelled in exhaustion.

  Nothing about the cases made any sense to him now. First it was the murders being found and the inclusion of a strange body to his pile, and next their Captain was killed, sending the entire station into a state of pandemonium and unrest. The killer had an end game but he just wasn’t seeing it. The acts had not been taken without any underlying motive which was exactly what he continued to miss and it made him feel sickened badly.

  Hearing the sound of a ruck pull by, he hurried to the window to cast his gaze outside; it wasn’t the same one he had seen before over at Sarah’s place and it brought him a sigh in relief.

  ‘Sarah”, he thought.

  He gave a brief thought into the profiler he knew absolutely nothing about asides from the fact she got drafted in for the case as the professional who has a reputation with solving murder mysteries wherever she went. He needed help with a lot of things and asking for it has never been his strong suit but there was no doubt the need for it now.

  Reaching for his cellphone and punching in the digits he memorized one time after he feigned interest in saving Mike’s cellphone a year ago, Jake paused and took another look at his phone. He cleared the number out from the screen and attempted to dal it again slowly and this time, paying absolute attention to his thumb pattern across the touch screen.

  In gasp and widened eyes, he mumbled, “I’ll be damned!”

  Looking around his house and suspecting the perpetrator might have hidden cameras to monitor his actions, he kept his thought to himself as he attempted the dial pattern over and over and again until it etched perfectly into his head that he was right. His photographic memory had picked up that same hand pattern sometime earlier in the day.

  ‘Sarah dialed this same number”, he thought.

  He was certain of it and even went ahead to dial the digits so he could see it in entirety on his phone scree. It was without doubt a perfect match for Mike Rondon’s and it made him wonder if the two had something they were involved with or in that he wasn’t aware of. He had also heard her tell the caller she had things figured out while casting her gaze out the window and presumably towards the van he had noticed parked outside.

  “What are you two doing?” he thought.

  Falling back into his chair and rubbing his temple, he wondered if they were unto him as the possible killer they were looking for. He couldn’t understand why Sarah had chosen to bear an interest in him all of a sudden too and if they were indeed baiting him, it would leave him at a very bad disadvantage. Drained of any reasonable explanation, he closed his eyes and hoped for a brief nap before heading out again.

  “Stay away from those two”, he thought. “At least, until you know what the hell they both are planning”, he added.

  Nobody could be trusted currently and especially not after his house had become violated and lost its privacy.

  ***

  Wearing the perfect poker face and stepping out of the elevator on the fifth floor where the forensic team had their base, Jake walked around unnoticed before arriving at the third door to his right and with the name “Felicia Shirk Chief Forensics” etched into it. Taking in deep breaths and exhaling nervously, he tapped on the door and
reached for the handle before opening it.

  “Jake”, the slender, spectacled lady behind the ebony colored desk rested her back into her seat and smirked. “Who would have thought I’d be receiving you as a guest today or even ever again?”

  Jake chalked down some lumps of discomfort in his throat and nodded his head while gesticulating with his hands, “Felicia, before you say anything, I know I have wronged you and I messed up badly”.

  Felicia with a raised brow snorted derisively before drawing closer to her desk so her cleavage could be partly visible to him.

  “Allowing me book a flight to the Bahamas for both of us and only for the mighty Jake Sullivan to cancel and not even let me know about it”, Felicia raged on without showing any intent on forgiving him or letting the past be the past.

  Jake cleared his throat nervously and cut right in, “Yes, you have every right to be angry with me, but right now the department is a mess and I’m hearing they are bringing in some hotshot from uptown to find the Captain’s killer because they feel we here are slacking”.

  Felicia seemed to calm down a bit and sighed.

  “Now, I found something in that house which I have a feeling might come to help me on this case and I had one of your men analyze it which is why I’m here”, he explained and pleaded to her reasonable side. “I need the results on that lipstick”.

  Felicia mumbled incoherently and reached for her desk before pulling out a drawer and holding out a file which she handed to him.

  “That is one expensive lipstick”, she noted.

  Jake took a look at the brand and noted the words “Bel Air” printed underneath what the forensic team had found out about its make. He looked back up at Felicia who seemed interested in whatever he was getting from the report.

  “Are you sure this is related to the Captain’s death, or this is just some cheap excuse to locate your rich girlfriend?” she asked.

  “I promise you that women are the least of my worries right now”, he replied, looking sweaty but still good enough to hold his own.

  He took another good look at the image of the lipstick taken from the crime scene and wondered about the lipstick cover he had noticed in Sarah’s house earlier. It was distinctive and had some sleek cure to it which he wasn’t familiar with on lipsticks.

  “Can I use your laptop for a minute?” he asked Felicia.

  She frowned and reluctantly turned the computer his way before watching him grab himself a couch and begin to search through the web for what he needed. it took no more than a minute to find his pick of lipstick from the name he had searched for and right there was the exact match to the lipstick cover and body he had seen in Sarah’s house earlier and which he held in his hand respectively.

  “Shit!” he raged, ramming his fist hard into the table and getting up to begin to pace around the room.

  He felt used and absolutely blindsided which wasn’t something his ego had ever been dealt.

  “What do you know about Sarah Connell?” he turned to Felicia and asked.

  Felicia shrugged and replied, “The same thing buzzing around the office that she’s one hotshot profiler and detective that always gets her man… someone recommended her in on the cop case”.

  It was the same story he had heard and nothing else stood out as different. His insides felt mashed and his breathing changed in rhythm as he struggled not to have a panic attack.

  “Is there something bothering you?” Felicia sounded concerned.

  He wondered if he could explain to her what his disturbing suspicions were.

  “Letting her in on anything I know will only open me up to getting made”, he concluded.

  The entire ordeal was getting deeper than he had imagined and if his suspicions were right, then Sarah might have known who he was already and only befriended him in a bid to nail him hard and properly. There was the issue of his missing trophy box too, and the most disturbing part, Mike Rondon sniffing around for truffles.

  Calming himself and smiling mildly before collecting the entire information they had on the lipstick, he waved gently at Felicia, “Thank for everything… I owe you a lot and I know”.

  He had hoped his sudden calmness would toss her off her desire to know what was bothering him as he left the office and closed the door gently behind him. Taking a moment to lean against the door and recount his thought and intent, Jake understood he was in a game of cat and mouse and he had played the mousy part for too long already.

  “I need to find out what those two know”, he sighed and walked away towards the elevator like a man unburdened by anything.

  It was all he could do after all.

  ***

  “Jake! Hey Jake!” the persistent voice of Mike Rondon kept calling out.

  Jake cursed his luck and thought he had made the wrong choice by not going down the stairs instead of opting for the elevator.

  “Hey buddy… I’ve been looking all over for you”, Mike noted. “These cases are heating up and the Mayor is getting involved with some hotshot coming to take the reign of things around here”.

  Hiding away the file he had just received underneath his coat, Jake turned around and replied, “It means we have to find this killer fast”.

  Mike agreed with a definite nod and a soft sigh while they shared the awkwardness in silence for a few seconds.

  “By the way, have you gotten anything back from the forensics team or the coroner?” Mike inquired.

  Lying through his teeth, Jake replied casually, “No… not at all and in fact, I was just heading over to the coroner’s office right away”.

  Mike motioned towards the elevator and punched the key to have it open. “Let’s go see what they found out then”.

  Uncomfortable but very much in need to keep up his appearances, Jake agreed with a nod and an outstretched hand towards the open doors, “Sure… why not?”

  Stepping in together just while the doors slammed shut before them, Jake pictured every possible scenario of occurrence in his head while Mike seemed awfully on edge. His subtle stare in Jake’s direction while they listened to the opera music playing in the elevator’s background continued for the next minute before the elevator came to a halt and the door chimed open.

  Mike stepped out first and journeyed down the hall while Jake followed him.

  “My luck must be running high today”, the familiar feminine voice called out from behind, prompting both men to halt.

  Mike remained focused on the coroner’s office door ahead while Jake turned to greet Sarah, “This building is feeling smaller by the minute”.

  Sarah burst into laughter and ran her hair behind her left ear, “I got a call from the coroner working on the body saying he was done analyzing the body”.

  “Hey Sarah”, Mike finally greeted without looking back.

  “Detective Mike”, Sarah greeted before leading the line.

  Noting the awkwardness, he kept to himself as he tailed the duo and tried to watch out for signs that might help him understand what their objectives were with him. Something about them both definitely troubled him now and he needed answers more than ever but the Captain’s death also needed solving so his personal troubles had to be cast aside momentarily.

  “I’m glad you guys are here”, the coroner coughed gently. “I am really sorry for your loss”.

  Jake wondered why he had not seen the man before him at the morgue the other night he came to view the dead body of the police officer. Sarah had been there and she had given him the lowdown of everything he needed about the corpse.

  “What am I missing?” Jake asked himself.

  Stepping closer to the body, the coroner went about explaining all he had observed. “I was initially surprised by the manner in which the Captain had been killed, sighting there were no signs indicating he struggled while these cuts were made”.

  He pointed at the deep lacerations on the Captain’s neck as well as more around his wrists and other
body parts.

  “When I dug deeper into the body, I realized whoever did this poisoned him first, then set about carving his skin and gruesomely finishing the job with this deep cut to his jugular vein while he was still alive and aware”, the man explained.

  Sarah didn’t flinch but Mike seemed awfully uncomfortable.

  “You mean he was well aware of his killer carving him up?” Jake asked.

  The coroner nodded and went ahead to close the body.

  “One more thing”, the man cleared his throat and shook his head. “You might be looking for a left handed killer this time and unlike the previous body which I explained to my dear lady here when she arrived with the body, this killer is skilled and most probably the master and not the protégé”.

  Mike stepped forward immediately. “Could it be that he is showing his protégé how it’s done?”

  With a slight shrug, the coroner replied, “Yes… that might be the case”.

  The man walked out from their sight and left the three detectives with the dead body as they seemed unsure of what to do next. For Jake, the stakes had gotten higher and whatever he needed to do, he needed to get it done fast. The killer had made a very good copy work of his killing method and brought it out on display perfectly, thereby incriminating him this time around.

  “To what end?” Jake heard himself ask out loud.

  Alerted to his words, Sarah asked, “What?”

  “To what end are these killings?” he asked again.

  Mike slapped him on the shoulder gently and simply replied, “We will soon catch this killer buddy… I can feel how close we are and we’d get our break soon”.

  Picking a copy of the printed facts the coroner had left on the table for them, Mike walked out immediately while Sarah lingered her gaze on his back and waited for him to exit the doors before turning to Jake.

  “I was wondering if you’d be free for tonight”, she whispered before reaching for a printed copy too.

  Jake remained motionless and speechless momentarily. She was definitely asking for another night with him and he had to weigh things through properly.