The Rookie

by A J Kent

  “I can’t believe I am going to get to work on my first real case,” Rory says as she unfastens her seatbelt and looks out of the window.

  The sun is currently setting behind the clouds and the sky is full of red, orange and yellow hues. It looks mesmerising. Just like the pretty blonde sitting a few feet away from me.

  I chuckle, “You will be a natural,” I say.

  She will be. She’s well ahead of the rest of the class and her brain never fails to amaze me. She is probably the only woman, hell, the only person that keeps me on my toes.

  “I hope so,” she smiles, her beauty consuming my whole entire body.

  “Trust me.”

  She removes her shoes and pulls her legs onto the seat, crossing them under her body, “I do trust you Theodore, I always have, and I always will.”

  Oh fuck.

  She trusts me. She’s always trusted me, and she always will.

  Woman, I don’t think you would trust me with the thoughts running through my head right now. Being this close to Rory is making my body and mind want dirty things, naughty things. Things which involve my mouth on her, her mouth on mine, her screaming my name over and over as I make her come for the tenth time.

  Henley clears his throat, interrupting my very dirty thoughts, “So girls, I suppose we better give you some background information on the case. You can then get some shut eye as we are on here for the next six hours.”

  I adjust my pants before leaning over to my bag. I pull the case files out, handing Rory and Charlotte their own copy.

  The girls spend a few minutes reading the file, engrossed in the information in front of them.

  “This has been going on for three weeks?” Charlotte asks as she flicks through the pages of the file.

  Henley nods, “Three weeks and seven murders.”

  Rory interrupts, “So why are the FBI only getting called now?”

  “Because LAPD have only just made the connection, linking the murders to the same serial killer.”

  The Unsub has a type, women, mid-twenties, professional and beautiful. I count my lucky stars that the two women in this plane are not brunettes. So far Los Angeles Police Department have identified seven women, all with the same indicators, all with the same marks that point to the same person.

  “So how are they linked?” Charlotte asks.

  Henley clears his throat and looks at me, I nod, allowing for him to continue, “Each woman was raped, they had seven fingers removed and the killer left a message,” Henley says.

  “And what is the message?” Lottie questions.

  “Behold, all souls are mine; the soul of the father as well as the soul of the son is mine: the soul who sins shall die,” Rory says as she reads the words from the body of the victim in the file in front of her.

  Henley nods before blowing out a breath.

  This job never gets easier. Every case is different. Every unsub is different.

  “Do you think there’s more?” Rory asks, her voice almost a whisper.

  A chill shoots down my spine, I sigh before closing the folder in front of me, “I know there’s more. At least I think so.”

  Unfortunately, a case like this, a case where it has taken the LAPD three weeks to identify the women and connect them inevitably has more victims.

  “So, what do you want us to do?” Charlotte asks.

  “Help us and the LAPD find the son of a bitch and put him behind bars,” Henley bites.

  Charlotte nods before pulling a blanket over her body and closing her eyes. Jefferson spends a few more minutes reading through the file and makes a few notes before he puts his headphones in and closes his eyes.

  “Does it ever get easier?”

  Rory’s voice pulls my attention away from looking at Henley.

  I shake my head, “No. the day we find it easy is the day we need to walk away,” I pause. “Some of these cases will give you nightmares Rory, some you will never be able to get out of your head and some will break you but you just need to remember that you are here to make a difference. You are here to end these atrocities, to give someone back their life whether that is a victim or their family member.”

  She nods and gives me a brief smile before putting her file down.

  “Get some rest, Ror, you are going to need it,” I say as I pull a blanket over her body.

  What is this girl doing to me?

  Even in times like these, even in times when there’s so much horror, she makes my body and mind feel things I’ve never felt before, at least not the intense.

  She makes me want.

  She makes me need and I never need anything.

  At least, not until now.

  A few hours later the plane is landing at LAX airport and we are quickly ushered off the plane where a black SUV is waiting and ready to take us to precinct we’ll be working from for the foreseeable.

  “Fuck, it’s hot,” Henley says as he removes his jacket and pushes it into his backpack.

  Rory laughs, “What, did you think it would be cold?” She questions before jumping into the SUV.

  Henley grumbles something under his breath causing Rory and Charlotte to share a chuckle. I shake my head and hop into the car. Not too long later, thank fuck there wasn’t a lot of LA traffic, the black SUV is pulling up outside of the Police Station and we all quickly rush in.

  We walk through the glass double doors and head around the corner when we are greeted by two officers, a man and a woman. The woman is short with long black hair and tanned skinned and the man has blonde hair and stands a few inches shorter than me.

  “Welcome,” the female officer says as she holds her hand out for us to shake. “I’m officer Lucaris and this is Officer Meadon,” she says tilting her head to one side.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Agent Riley, that’s Agent Jefferson and this is Agents to be Holmes and Tipton.”

  Officer Meadon smiles, his eyes lingering on Rory. Can I get a fucking break? Is this guy for real? He’s basically stood here eye fucking a rookie with no care in the world. What a jackass. Henley eyes me and clears his throat, clearly trying to diffuse the tension and the urge for me to punch the fucker square in his smug face.

  Officer Lucaris smiles and rubs her hands together, “Well I guess we better get this show on the road. Follow me.” We all agree before following the two officers into a room that has been set up especially for us. The walls are white and are covered in boards with every possible piece of information available on the case we are working on. The images of the victims take up one whole board, their bodies exposed and on show for everyone to see. This is definitely one of the hardest parts of the jobs. I close my eyes before walking deeper into the room. The rookies and Henley do the same, reading through the information scattered on the cork boards.

  “So where do we go from here?” Charlotte asks.

  “Now you work your magic and try to come up with a clearer and more concise profile for our killer so we can make some advancements,” Officer Meadon says as he leans against the door watching us wander around the room.

  “We received a new piece of evidence whilst you were flying in the big bird,” Officer Lucaris says as she walks towards me and hands me a box.

  “What is it?” Henley says as he stalks over to where I am standing.

  She shrugs, “We don’t know yet.”

  “What?” Jefferson and I say in unison.

  Officer Meadon pushes himself off the door he was just leaning against and walks over to us, “There was a note attached to it,” he pauses, pulling a plastic bag with a note inside from his pocket, “We had strict instructions to not open the package until the FBI got here…or else.”

  “Or else, what?” Rory questions.

  Both officers hesitate, “Or we get another body,” Lucaris says sadness overcoming her face.

  I nod before sighing.

  I put on a pair of white latex gloves and place the package on the table, “Here goes,” I say before unwra
pping the cardboard box. My eyes double in size and I suck in a breath at the sight before me.

  “Fucking hell,” Henley says as he slaps his hand against the wall.

  Fucking hell indeed. I take a deep breath before removing the item from the box.

  “Is that a, is that a--,” Charlotte says, her skin turning a sickly green colour.

  “Yes, it’s a hand.”

  A fucking severed hand.

  Well, this case has just got a lot more interesting and a lot more difficult.

  8

  Rory

  I walk over to my bed in the hotel we are staying at and slump down onto it. We have only been here a few hours and I’m exhausted. I roll over onto my stomach and sink my face into the pillow. I cannot believe that some sick, twisted, vindictive psycho sent us a hand. A fucking human hand no longer attached to a human body. I knew this job would be difficult, I knew I would see horrible things, Theodore reminded me of that but seeing flesh and bones in front of you with no indication of where it comes from or who it belongs to definitely increases the stakes in our job. How am I, a rookie, an agent in training supposed to help them. Sure, Theodore’s training has been exceptional so far, but we still have a few months left.

  I sigh and close my eyes before the beeping of my phone is pulling me out of my own thoughts.

  Theodore: Meet me in the lobby, five minutes.

  I smile before quickly typing a response back.

  Rory: Got it, boss man.

  I could use a nap right now, but I am not going to say no to spending time with Theodore. I roll off the bed and put my shoes back on. Opting for a pair of black Nike sneakers instead of the heeled boots I was wearing earlier. I grab my key card from the dressing table and head towards the elevator before pressing the button for the lobby. A minute later the elevator dings and the doors open. I step in and the elevator moves, getting to the lobby within a few seconds. I walk into the lobby and search for Theodore. I turn around and my eyes are instantly locked on his.

  Like I said, we have a magnetic connection I cannot explain.

  He beckons me over with is hand.

  “Take a seat,” he says pushing the yellow, plush chair out from under the table with his left leg.

  I oblige and take a seat, “What’s up?” I ask.

  He looks down at the table before a small smile appears on his face, “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You rushed off quite quickly earlier and I didn’t have time to check in on you.”

  There’s those fucking butterflies again. I think I better go to the doctors when I get home to make sure that I don’t actually have some colourful, flying insect taking up residence in my tummy.

  “It was hard,” I admit, there’s not point hiding that. How is he supposed to help me if I am not honest? How am I supposed to learn and get better if I don’t own up to how it makes me feel?

  He nods as understanding flashes across his incredibly handsome face.

  “Like I said, it never gets easier, but you start to learn to deal, you learn to push it to the back of your mind. You learn to not let it to control your emotions. Instead you use it to fuel yourself. You use it to solve cases and save lives.”

  Well I hope it is sooner rather than later that I start to learn those methods because at the moment I don’t think I am going to be able to close my eyes without seeing those images and that, that hand.

  “So, what do we do now. What do we do with that hand?”

  He sits forward and crosses his arms on the table in front of us, “Jefferson and Tipton have gone to the coroner’s office to look at the latest victim to see if anything has been missed—.’

  ‘And us?” I interrupt

  He sighs, “We are going to take that hand to see if we can get any viable prints from it and start connecting some pieces together.”

  I guess I’ve got the better end of the deal here. I don’t know if I am ready to look at people’s dead bodies in the flesh. Dealing with one severed hand is enough to make me queasy.

  Thirty minutes later Theodore is ushering me into the genetics and DNA testing lab. We walk down the corridor which has whitewashed walls and white tiled floor. We get to a pair of large double doors that reads fingerprinting and identification and you guessed it, the doors are white.

  Theodore holds his ID card up to the scanner to the left of the door and the scanner beeps green before the doors unlock, allowing us entry. Theodore smiles, his way of telling me ladies first. He would never say it out loud as he is a feminist and believe women don’t need men to do anything for him, but he is also a gentleman and in his head, ladies always have to go first.

  I bet he makes women go first in more ways than one.

  I shake my head and smile before walking to a room with glass windows and scientific equipment that would blow any other laboratory to shreds. Theodore follows me in and takes in the room. Yeah, he’s definitely just had the same thought as me.

  The doors close behind us and a woman wearing purple glasses and a white lab coat approaches us.

  “You must be agents Riley and Holmes. I’m Dr Salay Errington,” she says holding her hand out for us to shake it.

  We both shake it and smile at her, “Yes, I’m Theo and this is Rory,” Theodore says, clearly not correcting the fact that I am not yet an agent. I may not be a fully qualified agent yet but nobody else needs to know that.

  Dr Errington removes her glasses and points down to the box that I am carrying, “Is that the hand?” she questions, no emotion evident in her face at all. She has clearly been doing this job for a while.

  “It is,” Theodore cuts in, taking the box from me, “Officer Lucaris said you had equipment that could get a print from this today.”

  She smiles, her eyes glowing as she takes in Theodore. I groan and roll my eyes. Theodore and his freaking handsome face and breath-taking eyes.

  “This way,” she says, beckoning us to follow her. “If this baby has something on it, we are going to find it.”

  This baby. This baby. Did she really just call a severed hand, that has been removed from a dead woman’s body, baby. That is sad. This woman has probably seen so many horrible things that it doesn’t even phase her anymore.

  Theodore eyes me, reading my expression and giving me a sympathetic nod before following the unfazed scientist to her workstation. Theodore places the box on the table and Dr Errington puts on a new pair of gloves before removing the hand from the box. She inspects it for a few moments before placing it onto the machine in front of her.

  The table is covered with three monitors and a scanning machine. Each monitor is running different statistics and algorithms. She types a few numbers and letters into the keyboard in front of her before flipping a switch. The room goes dark briefly, and my hand quickly reaches out for Theodore’s.

  He smiles and looks down at me, but he doesn’t release my hand. I apologise with my eyes before dropping my hand back to my side ignoring the overcoming urge and surges of electricity plummeting through my body not to break the connection between us.

  The scanning machine beeps, and a 3D image of the hand appears on the screen in front of us, rotating as hundreds of colourful lines point in different directions on the monitor.

  “What is happening?” I ask as I move closer to get a better look.

  “The machine is scanning the hand. We are not only looking for fingerprints or information on who the victim might be, but we are also scanning the bones. Each bone is unique, and this hand could hold information that could help us with the case.”

  I have no idea how someone’s bones could help us with that.

  “What do you mean?” I question.

  “The hand was severed so firstly we might be able to identify the weapon used and secondly, bones fracture when they undergo such intense trauma. These fractures could provide us with more information on the unsub,” Theodore says his eyed glued to the monitor in front of him.

  “What kind of information?”

/>   “For one, we might be able to determine when this hand was removed from the body, how much force was needed, the dominant hand of the murderer and we may even be able to get a location.”

  Okay, I am definitely out of my league here.

  I go to ask Theodore another question, but I am interrupted by the beeping of the scanner in front of us. The lights turn back on in the room and Dr Errington stops the beeping before reading the information on the screen in front of her.

  “Hmmm,” she says.

  “Hmmm. What?” Theodore asks.

  The Doctor turns around before handing us a piece of paper she just printed from the machines in front of us, “There’s all the information you need. Now if you excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be.” Errington bids us farewell before practically running out of the room.

  “What was that about?” I ask as Theodore ferociously scans the information on the paper in his hands.

  “Well shit,” Theodore says, finally looking up from the piece of paper in front of him.

  “Well shit what, Theodore,” how much longer is he going to keep me in the dark. I am itching to find out the information he has just read.

  He clears his throat before sitting on the stool in front of the desk, his eyes now locked with mine, “Rory,” he says, his voice soft.

  “Theodore,” I respond.

  “When was the last time you saw your Dad?” he questions.

  Why on earth is he asking about my family now? This surely is an inappropriate time to catch up on our family history. He knows my Dad left during Junior year. Or should I say ran off with a twenty-two-year-old.

  “Not since he left when I was in high school. Why?” As soon as my Dad left my Mom and I had to fend for ourselves and we had no money to our names. I vowed I would never speak to him again. It has definitely been made easier by the fact that the fucker has never even reached out to me since. He didn’t reach out when I graduated high school the top of my class, he didn’t reach out when I went to college and he didn’t reach out when my Mom died two years ago.

  The man may have contributed to me coming into this world and I may have his eyes but other than that, he is nothing but a sperm donor.