The Rookie

by A J Kent

“Harold Homes” I say.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “I’ve been hiding something as well,” I admit, “A year after my Dad left, he sent me a letter, it was more like a threat. He told me to do things and then told me to burn it so I can’t exactly remember what it says.”

  Liar, liar.

  Theodore rubs his hand over his face before shaking his head.

  “So where are the letters now?” Officer Meadon asks. I forgot they were still in the room.

  “They are in my safety deposit box back home. I wanted to keep them safe until you were ready to read them. I’ve only ever read the first one. I’ve just always intercepted them whenever they came on your birthday.” Lottie says.

  Wait, these letters are sent on my birthday. My birthday which is three days away.

  “Rory, your birthday is in three days.” Theodore says.

  I nod, “There’s going to be another letter.”

  He runs a hand through his hair, “I think these letters mean something Rory, I think there may be a clue or something in them. Just like there was probably a clue in the first one he ever gave you. There might be something in these recent letters that gives us information on the murders. They’re either a clue or a distraction.”

  That’s exactly what I thought when Lottie said that my father has been sending me letters for the past six years. Clearly, he’s an intelligent man and clearly, he’s been planning this longer than we thought. What I can’t work out though is why, what is his motive behind it. What is his reasoning. He didn’t know I was going to join the FBI, so how has he planned this.

  My thoughts are interrupted by Theodore talking loudly into a phone.

  “Thomas, you need to get to the bank. You need to go to Charlotte’s safety deposit box and get six letters from there. They will be addressed to Rory. You then need to FedEx them here as quickly as possible. Good, thanks man. Speak soon.” Theodore puts his phone down and walks over to me, taking my hand in his.

  “We are going to get to the bottom of this okay. We are going to work out why this is happening to you,” he says as his thumb circles the skin on my hand.

  My whole body relaxes, the tension quickly seeping through my pores as Theodore’s hand touches mine.

  “So, what now?” I ask him, as his fingers continue moving in circles on my hand.

  “Now we wait for the letters. We have his address, but I don’t think he actually resides there. Besides, we need to read the letters first. We need to see if they have any clues and we need to wait for the last letter. If they do turn out to be clues for this whole case, we will need to complete set. Until then we hang low and just continue investigating and putting pieces together.”

  Great. I know we need to keep our heads down and hang low until we get the letters, but I need the distraction. I need to keep my mind focused on something. This whole case is driving me insane. I’ve never struggled with working out the reasoning behind things. I’ve always understood people’s motives but this one has me stumped. I am completely out of my depth here. Joining the academy has brought me so much joy and happiness and I have met great people and rekindled my friendship with Theodore, but I never expected my training to go like this. I never expected that Lottie and I would be pulled from training in Quantico to get first-hand experiencing working on the front-line.

  Never in a million years did I think I would end up on the front-line, investigating the mass murders of one Mr Harold Holmes, aka my sperm donor, aka my freaking father. I want to help, I do. I want to take my father down and give the families of the victims who were murdered some hope and closure that the person responsible for taking away their daughters, sisters or wives from them is caught and behind bars, but I don’t know how long I can do it. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend that this is not having a toll on me.

  It’s stopping me being able to eat and stopping me being able to sleep. Whenever I close my eyes all I can see is his murderous eyes, my eyes and whenever I eat, I feel physically sick and instantly throw up. I’m not sure how much longer my body and mind can take. I know Theodore said it would be difficult. I know he said this job would be challenging and it would push us to our breaking points but I don’t think he expected that my first few months in the academy would consist of me hunting for my father, my father the serial killer.

  ◆◆◆

  Two days. Two long, tedious days is how long we needed to wait for the letters to arrive from Washington. Thomas had to pull a fair few strings before they allowed him entry to Lottie’s safety deposit box, even though she gave them written and verbal consent. Apparently working for the FBI doesn’t give you all the perks you would expect. Nevertheless, Thomas pulled through and sent us the letters as soon as he got his hands on them. That lucky day is today. The day before my twenty-seventh birthday. I walk into the conference room and sit down between Lottie and Theodore who are already waiting for me when I arrive. Henley is sat next to Theodore and Officer Lucaris and Officer Meadon sit opposite us.

  Theodore pulls the letters from the package next to him and spreads them out across the table in front of me. Six letters all addressed to Mallory Holmes. Great, now every single person in this room knows the horrific birthname I was branded with. I close my eyes and blow out a breath before picking up the letter with a number one written on the left-hand corner.

  Letter One: May 16th, 2013.

  My dearest button,

  Happy 20th Birthday. I hope you’re having a blast in college and keeping your head in those books. I want you graduating at the top of your class. I know you will, you were always so smart. My perfect little girl. I know you blame me for leaving your mother. I know you hate me for leaving you. But that does not mean I don’t love you anymore. That does not mean I don’t forgive you for your mistakes. I know it kills you every day not being able to communicate with me. But don’t worry, we may not be talking but we are communicating. I am watching you from a far. You may not see me, but I see you. I see everything you do in your perfect little world in your perfect little life.

  I am monitoring everything you do. Every person you talk to, every place you visit. I’m glad you are sticking to the rules. I thought you would have reached out to your precious Theodore by now. Good girl. I see you haven’t visited our favourite city yet, that’s a shame. We always spoke about it, didn’t we? If it wasn’t for your mother, we would be there now as happy as ever. Make sure you visit. I hear great things about the city of Angels.

  I will be sending you a letter every year on your birthday. Just so we can keep in touch. So, you know that my eyes are on you and when the time is right, when you are ready, we will meet again.

  ‘Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised’.

  Until next time my perfect child.

  Until you’re ready.

  HH

  15

  Theodore

  I down my fifth cup of coffee as I continue reading through the letters. Each one is as confusing as the next. Harold Holmes continues to call Rory his perfect little child, his perfect little daughter. He continues to reference that he is watching her, and he continues to remind her that they will meet again, one day. He’s not made it apparent when that day is, but he’s made it perfectly clear what his intentions are.

  “I still don’t get what the clues could be,” Lottie says as scans through the letters.

  She’s right. Apart from the letters being repetitive, they don’t directly reference or make a link to the seven murder victims.

  “This has to mean something,” Rory says as she writes something on the whiteboard “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.”

  “The quote from the first letter?” I question.

  She nods, “This quote is from the Bible, I’m sure of it. It has something to do with vanity.”

  Vanity. Why would Rory’s father be referencing vanity in his letters and how would this link to R
ory? Don’t get me wrong, Rory is a beautiful woman, but she doesn’t exactly go around flaunting her beauty and shouting from the rooftops that she’s every man’s fantasy. Even though she’s definitely mine.

  Henley walks over to the whiteboard and reads the quote, “Did we manage to dig up any dirt on the victims?” he pauses, “Surely, they don’t all lead perfect lives.”

  He’s definitely right. Everyone always has a skeleton or two in their closest that they’re hoping doesn’t make an appearance to tarnish their perfect reputation.

  Officer Meadon stands up and hands Henley a folder, “Victim number one, Donna Crystal, she used her son’s college money to fund several plastic surgery procedures.”

  What kind of parent does that? I know the woman has lost her life but that really is a low blow. Imagine having a college fund the one day and it being drained the next to give someone bigger tits or a flatter tummy.

  “Okay, so this woman clearly cared about vanity and her appearance,” Rory says as she adds this information under the quote she’s written on the board. “What about the other six, what dirt do we have on them?”

  Lottie and Officer Meadon grab the case files from the table and start combing through them looking for any important pieces of information that we might have missed that will help our case.

  “Henley, Rory, go back through the letters and see if quotes from the Bible have been used in all of them.”

  They both nod before they start scanning through the letters, each of them writing a quote on the whiteboard as they come across it.

  I walk closer to the whiteboard and put my hands on my hips, “Okay, so we clearly have a theme here. Each letter includes a quote. Each quote is referencing different things.”

  The million-dollar question though, is what do they mean and what the fuck do they have to do with Rory. It’s all good if we work out why they are important, but they mean nothing if we don’t make the connection to Rory. Clearly her father is trying to tell us something. Clearly, he is making a point but I’m just not sure what it is.

  “Okay,” Lottie says, “Each victim definitely has some dirty laundry they don’t want aired out for the world to see.”

  “What do you mean?” Rory asks as she turns to face Lottie.

  “Well we know victim number one used money to fund plastic surgery, it turns out that victim number two glassed a woman at a bar a few years ago. The women she glassed was a model and it turns out she got a modelling job victim number two wanted. Victim number three abused her child by constantly giving him food, he was so fat that he died, victim number four stole money from a charity fund and used it to buy a sports car, victim number five cheated on her husband with his brother, victim number six plagiarised certificates, saying that she had a degree to get a top job. She then sat around doing nothing, demanding and controlling everyone else and then took credit for things and unlucky number seven frequently abused her husband.”

  Well fuck.

  All of these women have clearly been killed for a reason. Each of them has done terrible things. Harold Holmes clearly thought he was making the world a better place by removing these women from it.

  “Is anyone not picking up on the theme here?” Rory asks.

  Theme? What the hell am I missing that she is picking up on. I’m usually quick and sharp with these things. Turns out that my head is not in the game as much as it should be.

  “What is it, rookie?” Jefferson asks.

  “They’re the seven deadly sins, don’t you see.”

  Shit. Wow. How the fuck did I miss that and how the fuck did Rory notice that. Her mind never fails to amaze me. Like I said before, Rory will be giving me a run for my money. So, Rory’s Dad has basically been cleansing the earth, ridding us of women who have committed unforgivable sins in his eyes.

  “Fuck, Rory. How did you get that?” Henley asks as he gets the names of the seven deadly sins up on the internet.

  She shrugs, “It makes perfect sense. My Dad was always obsessed with the Bible. Especially with passages relating to the sins. But he wasn’t obsessed with religion. He was obsessed with pointing out to me that people aren’t perfect. That people make mistakes. And he’s always been obsessed with the number seven. He has the number seven tattooed on his left wrist. Mom even told me that he wanted to call me seven. Seven, could you imagine. That would have been worse than freaking Mallory.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Harold Holmes is murdering women who have committed one of the deadly sins. To prove a point. To prove that women, that people aren’t perfect. Perfect.

  Fuck, I know why he’s dragging Rory into this.

  “Rory, I know how you are linked to this,” I say as I walk closer to her.

  Her eyes go big taking my breath away as the reflection of the sun makes them glow even more than usual. “How, Theodore? Please tell me,” she pleads.

  “Fuck, okay. So, your Dad is obsessed with proving that nobody is perfect right.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, so I’m going to go out on a whim here and say that he thinks you’re perfect. Think back to the letters and think back to when you were younger, he always made reference to you being his perfect little girl and never putting a foot out of line. In his eyes you act the complete opposite to the sins. In his eyes you think you’re better than everyone else.”

  She sighs, “I still don’t see the point here though Theodore, how does murdering women prove his point?”

  “Because they are practice runs,” Henley cuts in, clocking onto the point I am trying to make.

  “Practice runs for what?” Rory asks, hesitation in her voice.

  “You. They’re a practice run for you. To him all of those women represent you. You’re his next target. He’s trying to lure you in. he’s trying to get to you.”

  Rory’s knees buckle and her body starts to slump to the floor. I reach out my arms to catch her. I hoist her body back up and walk her over to a chair before putting her onto my lap. Her body starts to shake, and tears start to gush from her eyes. I knew her breaking point was near. I knew she was on the verge. I knew one more thing was going to push her over the edge.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s not going to happen. I’m going to make sure it’s not going to happen.” I whisper into her ear so only she can hear what I am saying.

  I can’t believe Rory’s father has been bating her for the last seven years. I’m glad that Charlotte hid the letters from Rory, if she found out about them a few years ago she might have plucked up the courage to go and see her Dad and would have walked straight into his trap. If that happened, she would probably be dead now. I firmly close my mouth shut as bile rushes from my stomach to my throat. I can’t even entertain the idea of Rory dying. She’s back in my life now, for good. I lost her once, there’s no fucking way that I am going to lose her again. I may not want to give her my heart, but she means the world to me and I will protect her with everything I have.

  “So, what do you think the last letter is going to say?” Charlotte asks as she flops down next to me grabbing Rory’s hand in hers.

  “It is going to say that I am next and that he’s coming for me,” Rory interrupts, tears still gushing from her sapphire eyes. This kills me. Watching her cry is breaking me. Rory has only ever cried a few times in her life, at least as far as I know. When she broke her arm badly when she was twelve, she slipped on a rock at the creek, I nearly caught her but I went down with her and knocked myself out so there was really nothing I could do, the second time she cried was when her hamster Herby died when she was thirteen and the last time was when her Dad walked out on her and her Mom. I’m sure she’s cried since the last time I saw her, but I’ve never seen her like this.

  “He won’t be able to get near you okay,” I reassure her as I wipe the tears from her flushed cheeks. “We are going to find him, we are going to bring him in, and we are going to make him pay for what he’s done okay. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, it doesn’t matter
how much man and woman power is needed, but he will not get his hands on you. I will make sure of it.”

  Rory sniffles and nods her head before resting her face on my shoulder. I love having her this close to me. I love my hands on her body, I love her holding me for comfort and protection and I love breathing in her scent. Fuck, did I just use the word love to describe things about Rory.

  I can’t love Rory. I promised myself that I would not allow myself to go there. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to erase her from my heart. To eradicate the memories of her that flooded my head day-in-day-out. I want to love her. I want to be with her. I want to wake up with her every morning but the cons outweigh the pros. Sure, it would be amazing, of course she would have to feel the same about me, but I’ve finally gotten to the point in my life where I can go a whole day without thinking about her, without wanting her, without longing for her, at least that was the case until her blonde ponytail swayed in the distance on the first day of the academy.

  “I know we have a job to do but Rory’s birthday is tomorrow, and I want to do something special for it,” Charlotte says with a big cheesy grin on her face.

  Everyone nods in agreement and Charlotte rushes out of the room stopping at the door to demand that I do not leave Rory’s side.

  I think I’ve got that one covered. This woman is not leaving my side until Harold Holmes is in custody and behind bars.

  Operation Keep Rory Safe, starts now.

  I may already be on a case, but this is now my new mission, protecting the woman I once loved.

  Stop lying to yourself and admit that you are still madly in love with her.

  16

  Rory

  I sink into the leather chair and buckle my seatbelt as tight as humanly possible without cutting off my bloody supply and allowing myself room to breathe. I close my eyes and position my arms firmly on the two arms rests that sit next to me. I know there’s some unspoken rule about only using one of them but right now I don’t care about following the correct plane etiquette. With Theodore to my left and a random woman to my right, they are just going to have to deal with my knobby elbows or risk getting a mouthful from me. It is my birthday after all, rules don’t apply to you when it’s your birthday.