by Tiana Laveen
“Did Owen tell you of anything going on? I know he had two other friends around here doing the same thing he was, but I haven’t been able to catch up with either of them yet.”
“Tony and Man?” Rick rolled his eyes and frowned. “Jayme, their asses been gone for weeks. Left down south. Everybody leavin’ who can afford to. Everybody scared. I don’t deal.”
“I know you don’t...”
“I never have. You see where it gets you? They killed my boy!” he screamed, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands.
Jayme continued to sit there, allowing the nineteen year old to lament, travel memory lane and curse the person responsible. People slowly drove up and down the street, some pausing at the protected crime scene, then carrying on their way. Car after car, she watched as they passed by. The prostitutes began to slowly migrate onto the street after an hour, as if the only crime committed were a child being robbed of candy earlier that day. They mewed down the pavement, coming out of the recesses of dark doorways and alleyways like wisps of colorful smoke. A depressingly surreal sight, and the traffic increased as bravado returned. Jayme continued to people watch as she spoke with Rick. He’d given her a little information to go off of, and she knew she’d be up for another day of calling and canvasing the area.
The way he took Owen down...What the hell? Who puts a perfectly drilled, circular hole in someone’s dome, with no bullet, then burns a star into their skin? Who the hell am I chasing and why can’t the FBI catch him? Shit is not adding up...
She quickly pushed the sullen thoughts out of her mind, needing desperately to stay on task.
This guy is good, that’s why. They need inside intelligence. I understand it, but...
She drifted away once more, her mind racing at the speed of light. Looking back into traffic, she met eyes with a man driving slowly past in a dirty white Honda Accord. His gaze made her heart pulsate. Dark, so dark, in an unnatural way and one sparkled, as if a tiny flash of a camera had come directly from the pupil. Jayme rubbed her eyes in disbelief.
“I’m tired. I am going to definitely have to go to sleep soon,” she whispered as she looked over at Rick, who was now half asleep himself, leaning back in the seat. She pulled away from the curb and made her way to his apartment complex, dropping him off. He disappeared into the building and thus blended in with the city surroundings. After waiting a while, making sure he was safely inside, she returned to Baltimore Avenue, and parked across from where she originally was. She looked back at the yellow tape, then turned away from that sight in angst. She spoke to a few local hookers she knew, one of which said she’d seen Owen the day before. Jayme continued to write notes, yawning occasionally, and there it was again...the dirty white car with the light-complexioned man. The dark eyes, matching thick eyebrows and one sparkling eye, looking as if it were filled with small black diamonds...
As he made his way up the street, Jayme pulled from the curb and followed him from a safe distance.
Either he’s looking for sex or drugs, but I’ve never seen him before until tonight... Right now, everyone is a suspect. Time to find out what he’s doing...
****
Xzion felt as if he’d lost his mind. He’d spotted the same woman from the strip club, the cop, as he searched in vain for his next hit. He’d come out to get his number two, and no one would think someone would be so brazen as to murder someone, return to the scene of the crime, and do it all over again. But he was. He’d done it before, many times, many places, and this was no different.
His target had vanished from the streets, however, like the coward that he was. Despite the situation, Xzion hated killing witnesses; it always made him more susceptible to police involvement. The neighborhood cried a bit more when some seemingly innocent bystander was mowed down, but the damn kid came out of nowhere, and brandished a gun.
The young man shot him, causing Xzion to have to duck. Bullets hurt, and though most shots were easily healed from, one in the wrong spot could cost him a lot of blood. In the best case scenario, they could slow him down, and he had shit to do. He was thankful for his fast reflexes, or he’d been dead years ago when he had to fight a pack of wolf like creatures on the planet Kizsute.
He shrugged, disliking the whole mess about the kid that shot at him. After apprehending the youth, he administered the small drill from his finger and bore into him rapidly. Despite what it looked like, under the conditions, it was relatively painless and quick. Finally, he left his star tag for people just like that boy...the regretted kills, the ones that had nothing to do with his mission, but had inadvertently made themselves part of the fabric. They weren’t law officials or agents, hell, not even security guards. As he lamented over what had transpired, he saw her...
She’d entered an apartment building. He was supposed to go home, let the scene relax then return, but instead, he dragged around, circling the blocks. After too much time had passed, he relinquished his quest, and returned to his house only to leave and finish what he’d started. The coast was clearer, there was a chance...but he knew he was only fooling himself. He wasn’t there for the goddamn dealer. He was there for her.
He hadn’t been able to get the cop out of his mind and it unnerved him. Now, here she was again. Certain that the universe was playing a cruel trick on him, he tried to look away, to not search for her gaze, but he couldn’t—and now, as he looked into his rear view mirror, he knew his newfound weakness aided in his undoing. She was on his tail, scoping him out. The hit wouldn’t happen tonight for she’d be on his ass all damn evening, and there was nowhere else to go but home.
Xzion turned down his subdivision and looked casually back into his mirror. She was a safe distance away, two cars between them, but still hanging on. He immediately opened his wrist, calling Aton.
“I have a situation.”
“Yes, what is the problem?”
“I have a Baltimore police officer that has been following me. I have seen her before, but not under these conditions.”
“Is she aware that you know she is there?”
“I’m not certain. This has been going on for over thirty minutes and she is now out of her jurisdiction. She’s a sex buster. She goes after prostitution rings.”
She must think I was searching for whores... That’s her job, to chase johns and pimps. Back the fuck off, lady. If you stay around too long, there will be dire consequences.
“What are your intentions?”
Xzion hesitated,uncertain what Aton meant. Fear washed over him—fear that he was becoming apparent, that this all had happened because of his own inadequacy. He’d become sexually aroused and semi-obsessed with her, and now an issue with no easy solution had arisen.
“I am going to play it cool...let her follow, act oblivious. However, my hit for Mr. Lennox will have to be postponed.”
“Fine. If she doesn’t disappear, make her disappear.” And the call went dead.
His eyes narrowed as he pulled into his driveway and watched her slow and pull over to the curb. Huffing, he got out of his car and slammed the vehicle door before entering the house to be flooded in bright blue light...
****
Jayme sat outside of the house, frustrated. She’d ran his tags, and he came up clean. The house was freshly built in the nice area of town, and according to the records, his name was Cristiano Hernández and he didn’t even have a parking ticket, let alone a history of buying pussy or dope.
What the hell were you doing on East Baltimore? What every guy like you is over there for, no doubt...or maybe it’s more than that.
He was all that she had and despite the disappointment of his stellar record, Jayme was not prepared to let go. She had a hunch, and she was going to ride it into the ground.
With all the crime going on there, the robbing and recent surge in murders, strangers aren’t coming there now...yet you risked your life, Mr. Hernandez. Strange...very strange indeed. You may be home now, but I’ll be back.
Jayme started her c
ar and drove away, feeling invigorated that she now had something to pour her energy into, someone that caused her radar to flash and zoom into overdrive. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach and her gut was never wrong. She would not tell the FBI just yet, and make more of a fool of herself with a false lead. That had happened several times before, when she’d been certain she had something tangible only to watch it fall to pieces like grains of sand in her palm. More information was warranted first, but this was not anything to chalk up as a fluke or to ignore, and she wouldn’t...not now, not ever...
****
“Well it’s about time,” Wanda teased as she laid out two outfits across her pink bedspread. “So what time is your date?”
“No, not that type of date.” Jayme grinned. “I’ve got a lead date. Please keep your fingers crossed. I’m going to scope this guy out and Wanda, if I don’t get something and soon, I just know the FBI is going to let me go and I’ll go back at the precinct with egg on my face. I can’t let that happen, so I have to handle this a bit outside protocol. This is important to me...I wish I could tell you more, but...”
“I know, it’s top secret.” Wanda rolled her eyes.
Jayme plopped down on her friend’s bed, looked indolently over her shoulder then pointed to one of the ensembles. “This one,” she said mildly.
“The yellow one?” Wanda reached for it, then looked back at Jayme, who was staring at the blank wall. “Jayme, I know you’ll get what you need. Don’t be so hard on yourself. This is a tough case and you expect to catch the guy after just a few short weeks.”
“It’s been almost two months...that is a lifetime when people are losing their lives.”
“And you aren’t responsible for that! I know you can’t tell me any details, but no one is expecting you to do anything other than the best you can,” she reassured as she reached for the yellow dress and slid it over her tan bra and matching lace panties.
“Well, the only problem with that is that he keeps killing at an exponential rate. Panic rules the streets. It looks like he is a vigilante killer, which doesn’t garner much sympathy from some societal factions and we need public support, not just from scared dealers and uptight users. Nothing ever gets accomplished out here without the public support.”
“Yeah.” Wanda sighed. “That’s true. It’s hard though, you know? I mean, all of us have dealt with someone that was on drugs, friends and family or even dated someone that was dealing or using. For most us, it really hits close to home and the people applauding this ‘XXX’ murderer, you know it’s because that is exactly what happened. Drugs destroyed their lives on some level, and they want these guys off the street, Jayme. You can’t expect everyone to be upset about this.”
“But that’s just the thing, Wanda. You know, as hard as I fight to help keep the streets clean, that I am not okay with this, but the way this guy is doing it—I’m swear, he is more dangerous than the dealers. I can’t tell you...the media doesn’t know yet...but...” Jayme looked away, trying once again to desperately tuck Owen’s dead image from her mind.
“But what?”
“He has gotten worse. I don’t know if he is feeding off the attention or not.” Jayme rose from her seat. “In any case, I have to get going. I hope you have a good time tonight.” She embraced her friend tightly, enjoying the comforting, sisterly warmth of the woman and needing the hug more than the chat.
“I will and I’ll let you know how it went. Can you zip me up?” Wanda turned her back toward Jayme. Jayme pulled the zipper up until her friend was put together and an image to behold. “Thank you!” Wanda smiled in the mirror, checking herself out from various angles.
“You look really nice...” Jayme said sadly as she turned to walk out of the bedroom to the front door.
“What was that about?” Wanda came after her, clutching a wooden bracelet and dangling gold earrings.
“Nothing, I’m just tired girl.” Jayme showed a weak smile.
“Well, I know you are.” Wanda patted her friend’s shoulder. “But knowing you, you will barely rest until you get this guy.”
“I know...I have to, it’s personal now.”
She turned the front knob, waved to her friend and stepped out the door, car keys in hand, along with determination and an iron-clad game plan.
****
Xzion rolled his neck slowly back and forth as the ice cold water enveloped his pores. He ran his fingers through his hair, saturated and cool to the touch. Finally, he was able to make his move. It had been a few days since he had to kill the boy, and now Mr. Lennox was wide open for his business. He’d found his whereabouts, and was excited to get him off of his ‘To-Do’ list.
She slowed me down...derailed things. Won’t happen again. I wasn’t born and trained to fail.
He exited the shower, his naked body gleaming under the sapphire glow of the expansive bathroom lights. He moved with firm steps on the cool floor to his bedroom and promptly reached for a long sleeved green shirt and a pair of black slacks. His hair had grown out quite a bit as he lay about, waiting, in the safe confines of his home for the pain in his ass to go away. That pain was in the form of a 5’10, slender, soft cocoa brown woman with a slightly muscular build, full lips he wanted against his own, an axe to grind and a chip on her shoulder.
He knew off the top that she was high off power and somehow, she’d been assigned to babysit him. He realized it as soon as he parked his car and noticed her sitting across the street after she followed him home. He also knew not to panic—they didn’t have anything on him, but he also understood she wanted that to change, and quickly. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. The cop had been to his house several times, and he fought the urge to blast her away. He let her follow him to the grocery store, to a clothing store, an art gallery and several cafes. He now expected her at every turn but then, she vanished. To say that he felt relief was an understatement. Aton kept repeatedly asking what was taking so long, and for the first time in Xzion’s life, he lied. It upset him for he’d lied to someone he trusted and respected, practically worshipped.
He almost lied to himself as well—trying to convince himself that the reason for the deception was because he disliked wasting ‘innocent’ people when the truth was, he didn’t give a shit. He didn’t want to do it, but he also didn’t lose sleep over it either. However, he was losing sleep over this cop, Officer Jayme Knight. He woke up in cold sweats, his body hot, his erection long, strong and hard as steel while realistic, intoxicant images of sex with her repeatedly haunted him. For sure, sex would take care of it. From all of his contacts over the past year, he’d ran into his share of escorts and the like, and in order to remove the cop from his system, he was certain a romp in the hay with some proficient pussy would take care of all of his woes. He was wrong.
He called the woman; she came to the hotel he’d chosen and as soon as he looked at her, he slammed the door in her face. From the hallway, she hurled colorful expletives his way, but he wasn’t moved or swayed. It wouldn’t help—nothing would help, except to get off the damn planet, but that wasn’t happening any time soon. He still had twenty-six hits scheduled for Baltimore alone and in typical fashion, he always had to slow down toward the end, as suspicion and paranoia grew.
He grabbed his duffle bag, dark coat that hung by the door and his leather winter gloves and negotiated his way through the cool snow, all the while, pretending to be back home...
****
Jayme sighed and leaned back in her car seat, the heat blasting. It was only four degrees and layers of treacherous ice covered the slick city streets. This slowed the crime quotient, but didn’t cease it all together. She’d seen her share of illegal transactions that evening while she laid low, waiting for her suspect to leave his house. She was following in a different car and a brilliant, brand spanking new disguise, feeling confident with the new game plan.
He wasn’t doing anything for quite some time, and it added to her frustration until she realized that he
very well may have been aware of her presence. Utilizing her theater make-up contacts, she was now a light-complexioned woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Though the skin tone was a bit off, from a distance, she was definitely believable. Her black Camry had been temporarily traded for a red Avalon...no one trailing anyone would drive a red car, or at least, she hoped he bought the new get-up. She watched as he wove in and out of traffic, taking his sweet time. This went on for over forty minutes while they travelled through notorious manufacturing areas, void of anyone, but perfect for a plot to kill...
****
Xzion was angry. Beyond angry.
She’s back...
He glimpsed in his rear view mirror, and then casually slid his arm over the passenger seat, as if a hot chick was sitting there and he’d been waiting to put the moves on her. The dark ripped leather of the seat bowed beneath his stiff body as he readjusted his weight. He slicked his tongue over his upper teeth, glancing at her once more.
Silly blonde wig...great make-up job though, almost had me fooled. Theater make-up no doubt, like actors in the big-budget movies. Good try. You’re not fucking this up for me, Miss Officer.
And with that, he suddenly took a turn against the curb, putting his car in reverse—and causing her to have to slam on her breaks. Acting on reflex, Xzion put the car in park, jumped out of his car, and raced toward her. The look of shock on her face as his shoes pounded the slick street without losing traction despite the ice, was priceless. There was nothing snow or ice could do to him—it was a welcoming reprieve and she was now trapped in his playground. Before he reached the car, he waved his arms in the air and put on a smile.
“Are you lost, ma’am, like I am?” he hollered out. “I’m trying to reach this address, and can’t find it.” He waved a piece of paper around in his hand. The cop just sat there, as if frozen. As she gripped her steering wheel, he sensed her anxiety.