by Tyler Porter
Maggie Wilson. I couldn’t wait to whisper her name as she took her last breath, me being the last thing she ever saw on this earth.
And she was a pretty girl, probably in her early thirties, and definitely kept herself in good shape which intensified the pleasure of this. At 5’0 she probably weighed no more than 110lbs. I had plenty of weight on her and quite a bit of height. To be fair, she put up a bigger fight than I expected, but it was no use. Now she was curled up next to the pole like all the other ones before her. She sobbed as I sauntered close to her, and she begged the same way they all did.
I cocked my head to the side to admire. “Aww, what’s wrong sweetheart? Aren’t you comfortable?”
“Please, I have two kids and I promise the police are already looking for me. If you let me go, I swear I will say that I got lost. No one will ever know what happened,” she said.
“Has anyone ever told you that you watch too many police shows?”
“No…”
“I wouldn’t think so. As a matter of fact, I would say you don’t watch enough of them.” My comment seemed to confused her because she squinted up at me and pushed her eyebrows together.
“Wh-what do you mean?” she stuttered.
“If you watched more cop shows, you would have seen that most of the time the person who gets kidnapped tries to reason with the kidnapper,” I whispered. “They try to negotiate their release, and if you watched more you would know that it never, ever works.”
Her eyes gushed more tears as she consumed my words. She had to know. She had to know she was going to die and there was just no way around it.
If her brain worked the same way as mine, she would have been flattered. I was going to use her for my latest experiment. At first, I’d intended to keep everything about my kills identical, but there was a certain rush that came from changing it up. Keeping the idiots guessing. I had something new in mind, and I was going to use Maggie Wilson as my Guinee pig. I had them exactly where I wanted them, and for an instant, I considered that maybe I should hold off. Patience is a virtue after all. I had been able to keep Shelby for weeks without trouble, and with more time to plan I could make sure that everything went perfectly.
I didn’t want to wait. I liked that sudden rush of blood through my body like something could go wrong. The guilt mixed with adrenaline that came with doing things out of impulse. I loved it.
Out of instinct. I wanted to kill Maggie. I wanted to watch the life leave her eyes and feel her spirit depart from her body. I wanted all of that and I didn’t want to wait for it. Screw patience and screw virtue. I looked down into her terrified eyes. I finally had the audience that I wanted. Now was the not the time to disappoint them.
Chapter 13: Becoming the Hunter
“Boss!”
The voice made me jump in my chair. I hadn’t slept much at all since Shelby’s body was discovered three days earlier. When I looked up, I found Detective Simmons standing in the doorway to what was once my office and was now Hunt’s.
“We have a lead on our killer and an address!” I nearly jumped out of my seat and followed him to the bullpen where my team was huddled around their desks.
They all stared intently as I emerged into the space.
“Alright, what do we got?” I asked impatiently.
It was Hall that answered. “Someone called in, they said they saw the press conference and they think our killer might be their neighbor. Guy says creepo has a beat up pick-up truck, an outbuilding and has always acted strangely about people coming near his house.”
“Good, let’s get moving on a warrant.”
“Already three steps ahead,” Cooper said holding up a folded document.
I nodded. “Perfect. Gear up let’s go.”
“I don’t think so!” The voice came from behind me and I turned to find a rage filled Captain Connors standing at the entrance of the hall. “What did I say Norris? I said you could assist with the investigation and that if anything went down, you could not be present. You’re a civilian.”
“That’s bull shit and you know it, Captain! This guy wants me. For some reason he is doing all of this because of me, and if that is true, then Shelby is dead because of me. This doesn’t end unless I end it.”
“Look, I know you’re still living in the glory days, but this isn’t your show anymore! Hunt is running this team and this investigation; he gives the orders and he is going to lead this raid. You will stay here, or I swear to God I will put you in cuffs for interfering in an ongoing investigation.”
He was right. This wasn’t my show and my time had passed. Maybe I was too close. I looked at Hunt, who was leaning against one of the desks with his arms folded across his chest and his head hanging staring a hole through the floor. I could tell he was conflicted. He was newly promoted, and the last thing he wanted to do was piss off Captain Connors, but he also knew that I was an essential part of this. Slowly he raised his head and met my eyes.
“Fine,” I submitted. “Let’s let Hunt decide then. He calls the shot. If he wants to bring the consultant along then I go, and if he doesn’t, I stay put.”
Captain Connors looked as if he was about to argue, but then he decided against it. I knew exactly what was running through his brain. Hunt had never defied him before and it was a safe bet that he wasn’t going to start now. Hunt, however, had always had a way of surprising you when you were least expecting it.
“I think Norris should come with us,” he said without breaking my gaze.
“What?” Captain roared. “Are you kidding me? You’re just as crazy as he is! I should have known he’d rub off on you after all those damn years. I can’t believe you are playing favorites with something like this Hunt!”
“It’s not about favorites Captain. He is the most experienced person that we have and the best resource available. This may not go down nice and easy and if it doesn’t, he is the guy that I want standing next to me to consult on what we should do next,” Hunt said.
“You know what? Fine! Take him with you, but I will tell you right now that if this thing goes south and he is involved somehow, it’s gonna be your ass not mine! You got that?”
“Loud and clear,” Hunt said softly.
I nodded in agreement and started toward the door. The group of detectives followed and we all got into unmarked sedans and started toward the address the caller had given. There were two of us in each car, and Hunt had decided to ride with me, probably for old times’ sake. The GPS said it would be a twenty-four-minute drive and for the first ten he didn’t say a word. I assumed he was thinking about the hell he would have to pay for going against Captain Connors.
“You alright kid?” I asked without taking my eyes off the road.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m glad your back,” he said.
“I’m not back, I’m just hanging around until we nail this son of a bitch.”
“I know, but I’m still glad. It was necessary.”
“Necessary?” I asked.
“Yeah, necessary. This killer doesn’t seem to be doing this for us, for the public, or even for himself. Everything about this seems to be about you. It had to be you to get involved.”
“Well, either way, I appreciate what you did back there. I don’t know, maybe Neil is right. Maybe I am too close to this thing,” I said.
“Of course you are,” Hunt responded. “But you have been close to a lot of cases. That has never gotten in the way of closing them down.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just hope this is a nice, easy take down. I was getting used to the retired life and being away from Neil. I’m ready to get back to that.”
“Are you relishing this at all?” he asked hesitantly.
“Relishing? That’s kind of a big word for a cop don’t you think Ivy League?” I joked.
He chuckled softly. “No, seriously. Isn’t this getting you
r blood flowing? I mean this guy picked you. He wants you to chase him, he wants you to challenge him. That has never happened in your time on the force. Hell, this might be the case that defines your career.” Hunt was still young, and he hadn’t seen enough shit yet to understand just how bad this thing was.
“That’s not the way I think of it,” I responded.
“How do you think of it?” he asked.
“I think of it as, this chicken-shit is no different than any other scumbag that I’ve taken down. He wants to believe he is different, that he is bigger or better somehow, but he isn’t. He is just one more nobody who thinks that killing makes him a somebody. That’s how I think of it.”
Hunt thought about this for a moment and even look as though he may argue, but he didn’t. We drove in silence for the remainder of the drive with only the faint sound of the radio in the background. Hunt called for the team to stop about a quarter mile from the house. It sure was out in the middle of nowhere which only made it make that much more sense. This guy would need privacy to do what he was doing to these women. We all parked and grouped up around the lead car. The team began putting on their vests and checking that their weapons were loaded as Hunt started to speak.
“Alright, everyone good to go?” He asked, looking around the group. “I’ll take that as a yes. As soon as S.W.A.T. arrives, we are going in. They will take the lead but we make the arrest.” He held up a picture of the homeowner. “This is our man, Frank Jarmin.”
Chapter 14: Finding a Killer
Jarmin was an older white man, probably in his early fifties. Much older than what we had originally thought. It wasn’t uncommon to predict wrong on age but it was uncommon to be so far off the mark. Fifteen to twenty-five years off the mark. I couldn’t tell his height from the picture but he looked thin and frail. Another surprise. I predicted our killer to be in supreme physical condition. All of the signs pointed to that when analyzing the bodies and crime scenes. Was it possible we had two killers? A team? It didn’t matter. For right now, we had reasonable suspicion and enough to take him in for questioning.
The black S.W.A.T. van pulled up next to our cars and stopped. The team leader, Eric Banner, got out of the passenger seat and approached us. Banner was an asshole, and I had never liked him. We had been at the academy together and had been, for lack of a better word, rivals during our early years. We had even gotten into a short fist fight one night at the local bar decades ago. We had also both been on the S.W.A.T. team years ago, but I decided that I wanted to solve the cases, not just carry a rifle and kick down doors.
There had always been a hostility between us. We had similar accolades and service records, but I had always received a little more praise and good press. I suppose I always thought it was a bit of a karma thing. Several times over our careers, I had gone out of the way to bury the hatchet and put the past behind us, but he would have none of it. Sometimes I considered that he liked the way things were.
He liked the animosity and confrontation. He wouldn’t have even stayed on my radar if it wasn’t for the fact that he wasn’t exactly a good guy when it came to the public. We had worked on several homicide cases together and he was always extremely blunt with the families of the victims with no sympathy or compassion. That never sat right with me. He walked up to our group with the usual smug expressions stretched across his face.
“Afternoon ladies, specifically you Cooper,” he said winking at the female detective. “You sure you guys don’t wanna hang back and let the big boys handle this?”
“Wink at me again and I’ll handle you, big boy,” Hall responded.
“Oh I bet you could. I’ve heard that’s exactly how you even made it to detective. Handling all the higher ups,” Banner said groping his crotch.
Hall went to take a step toward him but Hunt reached out an arm and stopped her.
Banner smiled. “There you go Hunt, take care of that little pest problem. Good boy.” He went to give Hunt a light slap on the cheek as a demeaning gesture, but as he reached out I slapped his arm away hard. He turned toward me in a fury.
“You’re here to assist, not fuck with my team,” I said.
“Your team?” he asked looking at me as if he had just noticed I was there. “I heard your old, wash-up ass had retired.”
“Either way I’m here. Now, are you done playing? We have a killer to take down.”
“Oh that’s right. The killer that dragged you out of hiding. The one that got under your skin, broke your ego. That is why you’re here isn’t it? Or is it because he cut your little girlfriend into pieces?”
For a percentage of a second, I lost control. Anger filled me to my breaking point and I reached to pull my Glock from the holster on my side. Perez grabbed my wrist and held it down. My eyes hadn’t left Banners. What kind of sick, twisted bastard could heckle someone about that? Hunt moved in front of me and squared up with Banner.
“That’s enough. We have a job to do here, now get your team ready and let’s do it,” Hunt said
Banner looked amused at Hunt’s attempt to take control of the situation, but must have become bored with the banter because he turned back and knocked twice on the door of the van. Seven officers dressed in black gear and holding rifles jumped out of the van. The huddled close behind Banner, waiting for instructions. Banner crossed his arms in front of him and responded to Hunt.
“Your show, sidekick. What’s the call?” he said.
Hunt was surely irritated by the comment, but he didn’t show it. “Alright, four of you go front, two to the back and two to the outbuilding,” he said pointing to the S.W.A.T. team, “Perez and Simmons, you go outbuilding. Cooper and Hall you take back. Norris and I go front. Any questions?” He looked around at the group of officers, all of them silent. “Good. Keep your eyes and ears open, this guy is extremely dangerous and most likely will not go down without a fight. Let’s go.”
The group of us moved quickly down country road. There were woods on either side which shielded us from being seen from the house. As we reached the edge of the property, we all stopped on Hunt’s signal. He turned back and nodded his head making sure we were all good. As we nodded back in unison, he gave the signal to move forward. We moved onto the property and separated into three groups. One group moved toward the outbuilding with Perez and Simmons in the back. Another group moved around the back of the house flanked by Hall and Cooper. Hunt and I were in the back of the last group and we were moving quickly toward the front door.
We arrived and waited as the front S.W.A.T. member whispered into the radio on his shoulder making sure everyone was in position. He got the okay and kicked the front door open. We moved inside the house and spread out on the first floor. The lights were out, but from the little bit of sunlight coming through the windows I could see the place was a mess. Piles of clothes and trash littered the floor. Pizza boxes and soda cans covered the furniture. It looked as if Frank Jarmin hadn’t left the house in weeks, maybe months.
I heard several voices shouting one at a time letting the team know that each respective room was clear and that they had found no one. It was time to move to the second floor. With my Glock held out in front of me, I slowly climbed to the second floor. It was not an open staircase; it was enclosed almost like a hallway going up. This was both good and bad. It was good, because I only had one area to be worried about someone shooting from. It was bad because that area was the best vantage point and there was nowhere for me to go if Jarmin jumped into the clearing guns blazing.
Fortunately, that didn’t happen. I reached the top of the stairs and had to choose right or left. The hallway extended in each direction. I moved up and quickly turned to the right then to the left, nothing. I moved in and out of each room finding more nothing. There was no sign of Frank Jarmin and so far, there was no sign that he was our killer. No body—no murder weapon, and no torture chamber. I yelled clear and walked back down
the stairs. The two groups in the house came together and no one had found anything. We all walked out the back and toward the outbuilding.
The smell was enough to tell us that we had definitely found something. The metallic tang and gag-producing stench of rotting flesh. The scent of blood and death lingered outside the building. The group entered and I was the last inside. Once there, I understood why the smell was so powerful and why we hadn’t heard reports from the outbuilding team.
The body was completely destroyed. There were long jagged cuts up and down each limb. Each major artery had been punctured with extreme precision. As I inched closer, I noticed that the fingers and toes had been smashed by some sort of heavy, blunt object. Maybe a hammer? Baseball bat? I couldn’t be sure. The genitals had also been mutilated. The face was the worst of it all. It had been all but ripped off and the eyes were missing. Blood was everywhere and the body now laid in a dried pool of the deep red substance.
I knew from the beginning, this killer was different than any I had ever heard of before, however, he had also not deviated from some of the norms. He had a specific type of victim, young, beautiful women. He had a signature, cutting them into three pieces, cutting off fingers, and stapling eyes open. He had always left the bodies in the open. Some easier to find than others, but never hidden away like this.
These thoughts were racing through my head as I looked over the scene in front of me. They pulsed through me because, although similar in brutality, this was very different from the previous killings. The first glaring and surprising difference was the victim was a male. Very few serial killers change victim preference in relation to gender. I was surprised when I first saw the photo of Jarmin because I couldn’t picture him subduing a petite female, much less an athletically built male. Secondly, not only were the eyelids not stapled open, but the eyes were missing completely.
This may have been an even bigger deviation than the gender. Our killer stapled open eyelids because he wanted to be seen, he needed it. This suggested that he had been overlooked throughout his life and that he felt inferior in some way. With this kill, he had taken them out which suggested that the killer did not want to be seen. The body was also in one piece, and the fingers, although smashed, were not severed from the hand. Lastly, the body was hidden away instead of out in the open like the others. This wasn’t just different; this wasn’t the same killer.