Kray

by Brooklyn Jones

  She knew that it wouldn't take long for her mom to bring that up. “I know. Work has kept me pretty busy.”

  Lindsay opened the fridge and brought out a pitcher of yellow lemonade. She didn't even bother asking Karen if she wanted any. She just poured two glasses and handed one to her. “Work. Work. Work. Don't you do anything else?”

  Karen took a sip and remembered the summers drinking lemonade in the backyard. “I like what I do, Mom. I don't need anything else.”

  “What are you working on now?”

  Karen knew this was a minefield. Not that she couldn't talk about it but more like she didn't want to talk about it. Last time they talked about her work, Karen's mom tried to convince her that her job was bad for her.

  “There's been a string of murders at the community colleges that I've been brought in to investigate.”

  “The news of that has been spreading around. It's just terrible what's been done to those young girls. I can't fathom a man or woman could do that to another human being.”

  Karen had seen it all too much. Humanity was capable of doing anything. “Do you know any information that might help me?”

  She knew the minute it came out of her mouth that it was going to be taken the wrong way.

  Lindsay put down her glass and scoffed. “Do you think I associate with murders and rapists?”

  “Of course not, Mom. I was just hoping you had maybe heard something.”

  “How long do you need to stay here?”

  That was it. It didn't take long for Karen to overstay her welcome. “I'm not sure. As long as the investigation lasts. But if you don't want me to stay, I could go to a hotel.”

  “Hogwash! I won't have it going around town that my own daughter is staying at a hotel. You can stay in your old room. It's just the way you left it.”

  “Where's Dad?”

  “On another of his business trips. Said he was going to be gone a few days.”

  Karen grew up believing that her father really was going away on business. She realized it when she got older that he was taking little vacations to get away from her mom.

  “Where did he go off to this time?”

  Lindsay left Karen alone in the kitchen to drink her lemonade. She knew that it was going to be tough coming back home and she was completely right.

  Karen lugged her backpack up the steep stairs and went into the first door on the right. Her mom wasn't kidding. The room hadn't been touched since she left. A movie poster of Silence of the Lambs still hung above her bed. It was the one movie that made her feel that woman were powerful and could accomplish anything. It was the movie that inspired her to join the FBI.

  And now she was on the hunt for her own serial killer.

  Chapter Four

  Karen crouched down in the hot sun and examined the pavement. A dark blood stain was the only thing left of Felicity Glen.

  She looked up at the large community college standing before her. The whole place had been built after she had left Jimstown. The town wasn't as small as she remembered. Students ran by, almost knocking Karen over.

  The file told Karen that the time of death was estimated around 8:30 pm. “What was she doing here so late?”

  The young cop didn't know if Karen was talking to him or was asking a rhetorical question. She looked up at him and Randall Hillsby knew he needed to answer. “I'm not sure,” he replied with a shrug.

  Randall was a fresh face on the police force. Barely out of the academy and the station pairs him up with an FBI agent on a big-time case.

  Karen knew what was really going on here. The local cops wanted to solve this case on their own. The only help Karen was going to get was from a rookie cop who was barely wet behind the ears.

  “Do you know when the last classes of the day end?” she asked.

  Randall scratched his goatee. “I believe 10:00 pm.”

  Karen stood up and stretched her back. “So it's entirely possible that she could've been here attending a class.”

  Randall nodded.

  “I'd like to see the body now.”

  “But the captain told me that nobody is to see the body.”

  Karen flashed her badge. “Do you see this, Officer Higsby? This is my I-Get-To-Do-Whatever-The-Fuck-I-Want Badge.”

  Randall didn't even try to argue.

  –

  The morgue was small and cramped with dead bodies. Even though the town had grown in the past years, the morgue had stayed the same.

  A short bald man with a gray apron on pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But Officer, I'm not allowed to let anyone in here.”

  Karen pushed past him and shoved her badge in his face. She did it with a smile too because this was the best part of her job. It made all the hard training at Quantico worth it.

  She squinted at the coroner's identification. “You're going to let me in, Mr. Kipper. And you're going to let me in right now.”

  The FBI badge did its job. Kipper took Karen and Higsby to a body draped with a white cloth. He flipped the cloth off the corpse and revealed a young girl with grayish skin. The smell was bad but Karen had been around enough dead bodies to be used to it.

  Higsby bent over and puked his breakfast all over the clean floors.

  “Well that wasn't very nice,” Kipper said.

  “Higsby, go outside and get some air.”

  He nodded, holding a hand over his mouth.

  Karen returned to the body and pulled the rest of white cloth off her. Felicity was skinny and definitely in shape.

  A dark purple slash across the neck was the only visible wound on the corpse. “What can you tell me about the victim?” Karen asked.

  The coroner walked to the other side of the table. “Victim was killed was a single slash across the neck.” He flipped over her arms and revealed black bruises. “The victim was being held against her will but there are no defensive wounds on her hands.”

  Karen looked closely at her hands and concurred. “What does that mean?”

  The coroner took off his glasses and cleaned them. “In cases like these where a knife is the primary weapon, the victim will put up their arms in defense to stop the blade.” The coroner put his hands up to mime the position. “The fact that she has no defensive wounds means that the knife was a surprise.”

  “Any signs of rape?” Karen knew that it was common in serial killers of women. Especially when they were younger.

  “Not in any of the victims.”

  Karen tried to picture what would've happened the night Felicity died. She imagined Felicity walking home after class ended. It was night time, not very many lights. A man in the shadows followed behind her. She turned to confront him and that's when they struggled and he bruised her arms. A knife came out of nowhere and cut her across the throat.

  She died almost immediately from bleeding out.

  “Is there anything you can tell me about the knife?”

  “This wound was done by a long blade. Could be a hunting knife or large kitchen knife.”

  “Seems more likely that the killer wouldn't be caring around a kitchen knife in the middle of the night.”

  “Is the school going to be closed?” the coroner asked.

  “That was going to be my next call. Four women from the community college are already dead. That should've happened before I even arrived here.”

  Chapter Five

  “I don't think you're understanding what I'm saying, Principal Reeves.” Karen switched the cellphone from one ear from the other. “Four girls from your college have died. There's no indication that this is going to stop.”

  “I don't think you understand what you're proposing. Closing the college down isn't something that can just be done with a flip of the switch. If we close the school down, students are going to go somewhere. Even the ones that stay are going to be afraid of returning. Not to mention, the school wouldn't get the money it needs to continue. It just can't be done, Ms. Taylor.”

  Karen pulled the phone awa
y from her ear and took in a deep breath. This guy was turning out to be a complete asshole. He didn't give two shits about the wellbeing of his students. He only cared about money.

  “Let me put it this way, Principal. If you don't close down the college, more girls are going to die. The newspapers would love to hear that you had a chance to stop it but instead allowed the killings to continue.”

  Karen could hear the man changing his mind over the phone.

  “I will notify the school that we will be closing tomorrow for just a few days. That way nobody will freak out. It will be easier to convince the parents.”

  “Fine do whatever you have to. But make sure the school is closed until this case is solved.”

  Karen hung up and collapsed onto her bed at home. The twin-sized mattress hadn't been changed since she was a kid. Even the flowery comforter with it's pinks and purples was the same.

  Her mom was already asleep for the night when Karen got home. The house was quiet and Karen was exhausted from the day but her mind was still running a mile a minute. She needed to get her mind of these girls. She needed a drink.

  Karen grabbed her purse and the keys to the rental car the FBI had provided her.

  –

  The only bar in town was the Eight of Spades. Karen had been too young to drink when she still lived in Jimstown. There was no better time than now to try it out.

  The parking lot was packed with trucks and rows of motorcycles. The one-story building needed to be condemned. The roof was about to collapse in on itself and many of the windows were boarded up. A neon sign with an eight of spades playing card blinked brightly. They definitely didn't have bars like these back in Washington DC.

  Karen was almost ready to turn around and go home. This wasn't her usual scene. But the heaviness of the day couldn't be escaped.

  She pushed through the creaky wooden door and was bombarded by the smell of cheap liquor and ear-splitting loud rock.

  The Eight of Spades was the only bar around Jimstown and was a safe haven for the criminal and undesirables. There were no tables or chairs, save the stools at the small bar on the far side. Everyone gathered around pool tables, holding large beer steins.

  Karen was definitely out of her element but nobody seemed to notice as she walked through the crowd of bikers with their leather jackets. Peanut shells crunched under her shoes. She shouldered her way to the bar and caught the attention of the blonde bartender wearing a short leather skirt and only a bikini top.

  The deafening music made it hard to hear but Karen understood that the bartender was asking what she wanted.

  This wasn't the type of place to order a cosmopolitan. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Whiskey on the rocks.”

  The female bartender nodded and got to work. Karen spun around and looked at the crowd. These definitely weren't the type of people that she normally would associate with.

  The bartender handed her a short glass filled to the brim with whiskey and ice. Karen took a sip and tried not to cough. She wasn't used to drinking straight alcohol and she'd have to baby this one or else she'd have to be carried home.

  Karen went to take another sip when a man bumped her arm and the drink spilled down her white blouse. The cold icy liquid was a shock to her system as it ran down her chest. She was about to curse until she saw who bumped into her.

  The man was huge with a closely shaved head and blue eyes. He had the perfect amount of stubble that framed his square jaw. A white wife-beater barely contained his bulging pecs.

  The man leaned over to her ear. “Sorry about that. Let me buy you a new one. What are you drinking?”

  Karen tried to speak but couldn't. Her brain wasn't sending her the right signals. The man just stared at her with a smile as he eyed her up and down. Karen gulped and replied, “Whiskey please.”

  The man snapped his fingers and the bartender was able to hear it over the music. She came over and the two of them shared some pleasantries. The bartender laughed and slapped his shoulder. Karen felt a jealousy that was foreign to her.

  How could she possibly feel jealous over someone she only knew for a few seconds? All she knew was that she wanted to know more about him.

  The man came back with a glass of whiskey and handed it to her. “Want to talk outside?” he shouted into her ear.

  Karen smiled and nodded. The unnamed man parted a way through the crowd and Karen followed. She took many sips of whiskey until they made it outside.

  The cold air and silence was a nice departure from the inside. The alcohol began to hit Karen right in the head.

  “What's your name?” he asked, drinking from his tall glass of beer.

  “Karen,” she replied, flushed from the liquor.

  He put his hand out. “Trevor.”

  Karen switched her glass to her other hand to shake his. She didn't need to do that and it led to an awkward moment.

  “You aren't the normal type of girl that walks into this bar.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  Trevor scratched his stubble. “Your attire for starters.”

  Karen swayed from side to side and looked down. “What's wrong with this?” she asked, pulling on her black blazer.

  Trevor laughed. “Nothing wrong. I actually like it. I'm sick of the women around here flaunting their tits all the time.”

  Karen smiled. She tried to think back at the last time she had a good conversation with a guy and she couldn't remember. Probably all the way back in high school when Jason told Karen he liked her right at the end of senior year. It was too late. Karen went away and never looked back.

  Trevor took a step forward. “I've never seen you around town before.”

  Karen was very aware that he was moving in closer. “I'm just visiting. Used to live here actually.”

  “Well I'm glad you walked in here.” He inched his way even closer.

  She knew what he wanted. Normally Karen wouldn't even let things go this far. She didn't have time for relationships. She didn't even have time for one-night stands.

  Karen tried to pump the brakes. She put her hand on his chest to stop him from invading her space.

  But that was a bad idea.

  Trevor was insanely in shape. His hard chest only made the blood pump through her faster. She could smell his manly scent as he wrapped his hand around the small of her back. Her lips parted and she closed her eyes.

  They kissed outside the Eight of Spades, their tongues dancing with one another. Karen felt like jelly in his arms as he held her close. Trevor reached up and tugged on Karen's hair, snapping her head to the side. He nibbled on her neck, leaving a bright red mark.

  Karen knew this was going to lead down a dangerous path. She was weak and it wouldn't take much to end up in his bed.

  Karen had bigger things to think about than Trevor's massive hard on beneath his tight jeans. She was able to push away Trevor for just a moment to catch her breath.

  Trevor wiped his mouth of saliva and revealed a cocky smile. Karen might dress differently but she was no different than the girls he always picked up at the bar. He knew she'd be moaning under his sheets to his touch soon enough.

  “Want to go back to my place?” he asked. It wasn't even really a question. More of a demand. So when Karen declined, he didn't even know how to process it.

  Nobody ever said no to Trevor Scott.

  “I'm sorry, but I'm working on a case right now. I don't have time for a fling right now.”

  Trevor took a step back. His face turned to horror. “What are you a cop?”

  Karen shrugged. “No, FBI.”

  “Son of bitch,” Trevor replied.

  Karen didn't know how to take that. “What's wrong with that?”

  “You trying to use me just to get close to the MC?”

  “I don't even know what you're talking about.”

  Trevor walked away without saying another word and left Karen all alone in front of the Eight of Spades.

&nb
sp; She walked to her rental and sat in driver's seat, thinking about the interaction over and over again. Even though she rejected Trevor first, she didn't like that it was ultimately something about her or something she did that turned him off.

  “When are you ever going to win, Karen?” she asked herself before turning the ignition.