Etched in Glass

by Nyxie Marrs

  I stop and turn to him. His broad shoulders block my view of the patrons around us and I notice his dark blue jeans. His tailored white button down shirt, with rolled up sleeves and a few buttons undone at the top, that snuggly fits his tight body. I'm sizing him up, to see if I can take him on when he becomes a problem. Right?

  “Yeah, actually. If you hadn’t intervened I'd be just fine and enjoying my night. Now this is all screwed up.” I blurt out. I probably shouldn't have said that. Was that too much information? He doesn’t need to know he messed up my night, hell at least he doesn’t know what I’m doing. I need to get out of here.

  “Are you by yourself?” He looks around the bar noticing no one with me. Great. He's going to think he should be a ‘gentleman’ and help me out.

  “What? You have a problem with a woman enjoying time to herself? Fuck off.” I say as I push the heavy wood door open and the icy breeze rushes in jolting my body. Damnit, I should have brought a jacket tonight. It wasn't this cold when I decided to wear this halter top, paired with a black skirt and boots.

  “Would you be offended if I offered you my jacket?” He follows me as I take a few steps out of the bar, the heavy door slams shut behind us. When I turn around, ready to tell him off, I realize he’s close, too close. “Maybe walk you to your car? I'd feel better at least, you know, my alpha-he-man brain wants to make sure the woman he saved is safe.” He asks charmingly. Why isn't this guy leaving? Why am I not leaving? 'Making sure I’m safe' what kind of comment is that?

  I laugh, involuntarily. “You're not going to stop, are you?” Where the hell did my aggressive tone go? “You want to end up receiving the punch asshole number one over there was going to get?”

  I laugh as he throws his jacket around me, drawing me close to him as he tugs on it. I didn't have time to reject it and my mind froze the closer his body gets.

  “What's that make me?” His eyes are sparkling with that husky voice, and his smile widens the longer he stays close waiting for my reply. The clear, dark sky fades from my mind and I no longer feel the breeze hitting my body.

  “Asshole number two.” I push his hands off the jacket and walk to my car.

  I didn't turn around, but I know he watched me. That feeling of eyes on my ass as I sauntered away only flustered me. Maybe he is trouble? Could he be the guy doing all of these abductions? I hadn't thought of that angle. Maybe meets a girl once or twice, tries to charm her and takes advantage of her at a weak point of their night. Possible. I get in and lock my car doors. He gave me his jacket though. Maybe he's tracked it and will know where I live? Why didn't I throw it back in his face? I should have. I check it over quickly before I drive off. I don't see anything weird, maybe I'm good.

  Chapter 6

  Miles

  Well she certainly is a strong and independent woman I never expected to run into. Definitely caught my interest, at first mostly because she was dressed like the previous victim with a similar drink. I was worried she would have been a target. She probably didn't think something like that would happen to her. But to be out alone at eleven in the evening? I couldn't see that, especially when that man started causing her trouble.

  No doubt she could have taken him, but she shouldn't have to. I’m surprised a woman like her is by herself. She rejected a few drinks and another guy that asked her something, flipping him off when he left. Obviously she wanted to be alone tonight. Definitely an attitude, which I enjoy.

  After I watch her drive away, I’m sure flipping me off for watching, I head home. This last week has been hell, and we've gotten nowhere with this last case.

  The last thing I want to see is another woman being abducted. We don’t have a clue to the motivation for these abductions, or how this person operates to begin a search. This case hasn't even been brought up as a serial abductor case. We haven't found bodies dumped, and we’re just starting to hit cold case files of other missing women. Why the hell hasn't the FBI been called in on this? I've got to put that in effect. We can't do this on our own, there are too many unknowns.

  As soon as I get home, I take my time to settle down and focus on rest. Trying my best to get this mystery woman out of my mind, but the image of her stays. The second I close my eyes, that annoying tone tore thoughts of my mystery woman from me.

  “Miles.” I answer my phone with frustration.

  “Hey. Have a good night?” Red asks with a hint of strain in his voice.

  “What happened?” I sit up. I know this isn't going to be a good call. A call this late is never good.

  “Body turned up. Could be our missing woman.”

  “Fuck.” I say as I rub my face. This is bad. We can now officially call him a serial killer. Sure, it's only been one body, but I know there's more. Especially if she’s numbered.

  “Yeah. Meet me at the scene. I'll send you details on your phone.”

  “Be there shortly.”

  Damnit. I don’t want to see any more women turn up dead. We need more people on this case, and for them to take it seriously. These women go missing for a reason. Not all of them have a lack of communication with their loved ones. They don’t disappear without there being a cause. So far our department hasn’t investigated a lot of these cases, they hit a dead end and give up. Red and I were finally handed these cold cases in hopes to make progress, but we shouldn’t be the only ones to do so.

  It’s a forty-five minute drive to the crime scene from my house. I can’t let this case sit unsolved.

  I arrive at a large park with a few nature trails running through it. Still in the city limits, but it feels like it’s in a different world. A few uniformed officers stand around chatting, and about time. FBI. There's four of them in a huddle about forty yards away from one person examining the body. That's where I need to be, with someone who’s actually working. I walk up behind her, taking in her dark, messy hair loosely tied back, with a few strands falling over her shoulders as she’s crouched down.

  “What do we got?”

  Her whole body jumps at my question. Standing and turning around immediately as she tightens her posture. Our eyes meet, and my mind goes blank. It's my mystery woman. What's it been? Three hours since the bar? She sees the recognition on my face and shakes her head while watching her partners. Obviously now is not the time to get into it. Okay then.

  “I'm going to need an explanation after this. I'm not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” I whisper as she continues to eye her group. Her face is pale and her eyes are watery with a hint of red around them like she’s been crying. That slight touch of sadness hitting her face has me worried.

  “Sick fuck. That's what we got. She's got a twenty-nine branded into her hip.” She wipes her face with the sleeve of- wait. Is that my jacket? Brushing away those tears I see building up as her body starts to shake. Her worried eyes dart from me to her group. For some reason she's afraid of them knowing something.

  “Are you okay?” I ask quietly, making sure no one else is around. She nods and turns away as the rest of her group walks up. There’s an obvious animosity in the air as they watch her turn back to the body.

  "Hi. I'm agent Rocky Hoss." This large, bald older man says as he holds out his hand. His brown eyes match his darker toned skin. The scowl on his face looks permanently placed. I look to my mystery woman and she takes another step away from them. Why is she here? Obviously she's with them, but she seems too uncomfortable around them.

  “Detective Miles Castor working at the PD around here. I was hoping we could get the FBI in on these abductions. Didn't think it'd take a murdered woman to bring you around.” I can't hide my sarcasm. They really should have been involved sooner.

  “Not my choice when to go out on a case.” He shrugs. “We'd like your help if that's okay. I hear one woman was taken a few days ago?” A cocky attitude like this doesn’t belong here. A feeling of hate rushes into me the longer I look at the uncaring smile on this man’s face.

  “Yes sir.” Red says as he walks up. “Detective R
edmond Stone. Or, Red. We have that new case, our current missing woman was marked thirty-nine. At least that's what we're thinking based on evidence.” Rocky stifles a scoff.

  “We'd appreciate any help and information you guys have. We want to keep this quiet, out of the news for now. Sometimes that's what gives the killer motivation to commit more. These are agents Brad Nicholls, Cole Warner, and Dante Torres.” All of these men are hefty with muscle and look like they mean business.

  Brad, the smallest of the four still has a good amount of strength to him. Cole not far ahead of him in height and power. Both of Hispanic descent. Cole with thick wavy locks brushing into his eyes, Brad with a short military cut. Dante has tanned white skin and blue eyes glancing towards my mystery woman every so often. I don’t like that look in his eyes.

  “That over there.” Rocky nods his head towards my mystery woman. He scoffs. “Is detective Vega Carson.” Detective? Not an agent?

  Vega, huh? Well now I've got her name. If I knew she was FBI, I would have let her handle that asshole at the bar. I can see how being around this group would make her feel like she needs to prove herself.

  “Good to have you guys on board.” Red mutters as he watches these men with the same skepticism on his face that I’m feeling.

  Forensics show up and I let these FBI men take lead on evidence and reports. Because this is our case Red and I are staying involved. Not a problem. Maybe we can get somewhere on this case and save these women now that the FBI is involved.

  “She's cute, isn't she?” Red mutters under his breath as we walk towards the body, and Vega who is focusing on this woman while making notes.

  “Sure.” I reply nonchalantly. There's no time to get into that right now.

  She bends down to take another look at the woman with long honey colored hair and icy-gray skin. Vega is definitely taking in the details of this woman’s features and marks on her body. Making a few more notes while looking at the woman's face. She lightly shakes her head and looks up at me quickly like she knew my eyes were on her. Guilty.

  Her- my black leather jacket falls open as she leans over, exposing a thin tank top. Now realizing she has ripped up jeans on and a disheveled appearance. It looks like she barely had time to get out of her bar outfit. Her eyes move to her team and then back to me. What the hell is going on? Something about them being here is making her uneasy.

  “Looks like there's not much for us to do here, ya?” Red mutters as he watches her.

  “Yeah. See you at the precinct, get a file started.” He nods and takes off, letting agent Rocky know what our plans are.

  I move closer to Vega, she stands up and squares off with me like she’s expecting a fight. “Think you can get a ride with me to the precinct? I'd like a chat.”

  “Depends.” She crosses her arms in front of her while staring me down.

  “On what exactly?” I try to hide the smirk attempting to push through my lips. By the look on her face, I don’t think I was successful.

  “How much of asshole number two decides to intervene.” That strong stance of hers is unmoving, and attractive.

  “Come on.” Is the only reply I can think of as I watch her defensive stare fade just the slightest.

  She sighs with disappointment. Maybe she expected a fight from me. “I've got what I need here. I'll let them know.” She quietly says as she closes her notepad, tucking it into my jacket pocket.

  I watch her aggressively speaking to Rocky, pointing at me the whole time. There’s no hiding the fact she despises those men. He waves a dismissive hand towards her and I swear she looked at the back of his head like it was target practice.

  “Everything okay, Vega?” The second I lightly say her name, her eyes relax and we walk to my car.

  Like the gentleman I am, I open and close the door for her before getting in, staring at me like I’ve just appalled her. I’m going to assume she’s not accustomed to gentlemanly acts. We've got about a twenty minute drive to the precinct, just enough time to get the information I need from her.

  “Okay. Spill it Vega. Just a few hours ago we were at a bar. You were dressed like the victims and looking for a fight, now your team is on the case with us?” She lets out a frustrated breath and leans her arm on the door.

  “Those dipshits don't take it seriously until a body shows up. I've been tracking this case since this killer was on number thirty.” She leans her head on her hand while watching the road.

  “So that is him keeping track of his victims. Obviously this one didn't make it. But we haven't seen any other bodies for this to be his twenty-ninth.” Her body shakes and she tightly closes her eyes.

  “Yeah. He's keeping track. I've been keeping track too. Didn't get more serious until his thirty-eighth victim.” She tries to clear her throat as a play to hide the tears I see forming. “My sister, Elara. So, I've been risking myself to catch this bastard since that night. Hence the bar tonight.”

  “Unsanctioned undercover?” She nods as she wipes the lone tear on her face. Her features still hold a strength she refuses to let go of.

  “I can understand the emotions behind that, but you shouldn't do it. There are protocols and you need backup. What's your plan if the guy actually takes your bait?”

  She sighs, nearly breaking down. A wry chuckle leaves her lips and she rubs her face.

  “No plan. I just want to stop him and get my sister. Those idiots I work with don't take it seriously until bodies start turning up. I am not going to let that happen, especially to my sister.” Her anger is definitely overpowering her emotions. I can feel the hate radiate from her words

  “Not smart Vega. I agree with you on their lax of an investigation until now, but risking yourself isn’t smart. Is Rocky the one to okay investigations?” Someone has to make the demands for this case. I would hope it’s her, but I doubt it since she’s doing this side business.

  “Yeah. He doesn't think too highly of me. But whatever gets me on this case I don't care what they say, I do it. I've got some information I've compiled on my own.”

  She says that like it’s nothing, like her work doesn’t matter. I suppose up until now no one really did care what she’s gathered. Well, that’s going to change. I can see her body tense and it looks like she’s holding her breath, while clutching my jacket closer to her body.

  “Oh, Vega. You're going to have to show me. My department’s lack of interest is pissing me off too. Anything you have, I'd love to see.” So it seems like mystery woman and I are on the same page when it comes to this case. However, I don't like the fact she's putting herself in the position to be abducted.

  Red already started everything and went home by the time we made it to the precinct. I don’t blame him, it’s late. Vega and I fill out what we need to. There wasn’t much to do on this case yet, so we didn’t have to spend a lot of time on this. Just finishing up what Red started.

  “Do you have a ride home? Don't tell me to fuck off this time.” I wink hoping she can lighten up just a little. Besides, I want to see the information she's gathered. Maybe my charming attitude can help me get on her good side, seeing how I’ve already started on her bad side.

  “No. I'll let you take me home. Don't make me regret it.” The smallest, microscopic smile emerged. At least she doesn't completely hate me.

  “You'll be fine. Promise. I'll take you home and we can meet up later. Get some sleep first. It's been a long night.”

  She nods and hides a yawn as we reach my car. “I’ve been operating on little sleep. I'm fine.”

  “Vega. Don't stress yourself. I'm sure you're doing all you can. But you need to be rested too. If he had bought your bait and you're tired as hell. It wouldn't work out well for you.”

  She’s pissed now. That same attitude from the bar is showing up and I don't hate it, but I thought we were moving away from that aggression.

  “I'm fine. Give me your number. I'll call or text you when we can meet.”

  She holds her phone ready to input my
number. Will she really let me see that information? I’m having a hard time imagining her letting someone in.

  “Fine. At least try and sleep? We'll figure this out together. Hopefully before it gets worse.”

  She sighs. It’s obvious, she doesn't want to work with anyone, especially since this isn’t exactly work. At least if we partner up she won't be alone doing it, and I can help keep her safe.

  “Fine. See you later. Thanks for not thinking I'm crazy.” Vega says as she gets out of the car.

  “Oh, Vega. I think you're crazy, I just happen to like it.” I say as she leans in.

  A sly smirk forms on her full lips making my mouth water and an urge to feel that softness hit me. That look is never leaving my mind. I watch her walk up to the apartment building, making sure the doors close behind her before I leave. I want to stay and wait ‘til I know she's in her apartment, but I don't know which one that is, yet.

  Chapter 7

  Vega

  Why did he have to be the detective on this case? He scared the hell out of me at the scene. I'm sure my face turned the shade of the body's color. Why would he help me? He knows what I'm doing is reckless. Why jeopardize his job too?

  Once inside my door I lock the multiple locks I had installed since Elara went missing. Yeah, I'm terrified of a break in, but I'll put my ass in the line of fire to save my sister. I shrug off the jacket and toss it on the couch as I walk by. I didn't realize it was his until now.

  I strip my way to the bathroom, throwing my shirt on the kitchen counter and my pants on the floor in the hall, undergarments soon follow. A nice hot shower should help me out. I didn't have a whole lot of time from coming home after the bar to having to go to the crime scene. Only because I stopped to look at my research.

  I let the warm water wash over me trying to drown myself with relaxation. I need to figure out what bar to go to next. I’m not deterred. I'm going to catch this bastard and save the women he’s torturing. Miles is right, there haven't been any other bodies turning up with numbers branded into them, or carved, or written. If this truly is his twenty-ninth, we should have found twenty-eight women. But we haven't.