by Aaron Riley
“Thank you,” Christopher replied. He took a slice and took a bite. PB&J always tasted better with the crusts cut off.
His mother hovered over his shoulder and looked at the photos. “Who is that?”
“It's one of the victims, Carolyn Mayne.”
“It's terrible what happened to her. I can't believe somebody in Jimstown could be capable of such a thing.”
“There's always evil in the world, Mom.”
“Well if it wasn't for these motorcycle clubs, this town wouldn't be so bad.”
Christopher was about to suggest that not all bikers were bad. But something clicked in his head. He fumbled through the files, searching for something.
“Is something wrong, honey?”
“I think I may have figured something out.”
“I'll leave you to it.”
Christopher pulled out a file from the stack. “Thanks again for the sandwiches.”
Lindsay closed the door behind her. Christopher took another bite of peanut butter and smacked his lips. He ruffled through the papers until he found the witness account for Teresa Cullen, the first victim.
Teresa was killed the same as the others, a large gash in her neck most likely caused by a long knife. But unlike the other victims who were found the next morning, Teresa was found right after she was killed.
The witness, Jennifer Skylar said in her statement that she heard screaming and rushed to the scene. She found Teresa lying on the concrete pathway bleeding from her neck. She called 911 but it was too late. Teresa had bled out before the paramedics arrived.
When the police questioned if Jennifer had seen anybody suspicious, she told them she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
But Christopher had a gut feeling that Jennifer might know more if she was asked the right questions. It was the only lead he had.
He found Jennifer's address written down on the statement. He knew exactly where she lived.
Christopher finished the rest of his sandwich and grabbed his black coat. He quickly realized that he couldn't talk to Jennifer in the middle of the night. That wasn't very professional. It would have to wait until morning.
He dropped his coat and collapsed onto the bed. The mattress springs creaked underneath. His eyes felt heavy. Christopher didn't realize how tired he actually was. His mind had been working so hard for days now and he barely had taken a break.
It didn't take long to fall asleep with the light still on.
–
Christopher woke the next day still wearing his clothes from the night before. He wiped the dried slobber from his cheek and checked his watch on the nightstand. It was almost noon.
He jumped out of bed and didn't even bother changing into a fresh pair of clothes. He went to the bathroom and fixed himself up before leaving the house.
Talking to the only witness couldn't wait a moment longer.
He drove to the outskirts of Jimstown where the trailers were parked. When he was younger it was a lot more common to see trailer parks all over town. Now they were relegated to the edges.
Kids played in the dirt road between the trailers as Christopher parked next to Jennifer's. He got out of his nicely air-conditioned car and began sweating immediately. Wearing all black in the desert wasn't the best choice for an outfit. Christopher took his sunglasses off and knocked on the front door.
A young girl in her early twenty's and long blonde hair answered the door. “Whadya want?” The smell of bubble gum and beer spilled out of the doorway.
“Are you Jennifer Skyler?”
The girl nodded and closed the door a little for protection, chewing pink gum.
Christopher flashed his badge. “My name is Christopher Taylor and I'm from the FBI. I'd like to ask you a few questions about Teresa Cullen.”
“But I already told the cops everything I saw.”
“I know but can I come in for a moment?”
Jennifer didn't want to but she knew she couldn't stop the FBI. The door opened wide enough for Christopher to walk through.
The trailer was even more cramped than it looked like from the outside. Empty beer cans littered the ground and the sink overflowed with dirty dishes.
Jennifer swept a stack of newspapers off a wooden chair and motioned for Christopher to sit down. Jennifer sat on the couch across from him. “Like I already said before, I told the cops everything I know.”
Christopher took out a small notepad. “I just wanted to clarify a few things.”
“You must not be close to catching this guy if you're back here talking to me.”
Christopher ignored the comment. “Can you describe what happened the night you discovered Teresa's body.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Fine. I was walking home from class when I heard a scream.”
“And what time was that?”
Jennifer blew a big bubble. “Whenever my last class ended.”
It didn't matter because he had the time from Jennifer's first statement. “Where did you hear the scream?” Christopher interrupted.
Jennifer closed her eyes. “I was walking out of the history building and I heard a scream come from close to the engineering building.”
Christopher wrote down notes. “And what did you do?”
“I ran to see what was going on.” Jennifer crossed her legs.
“Keep going,” Christopher said.
“I saw a woman lying in the middle of the sidewalk. There was blood everywhere.” Jennifer's eyes glazed over.
Christopher knew he was going to lose her. He needed to wrap this up quick. “Did you know she was already dead or did you check for a pulse?”
“She definitely looked dead. I didn't check for a pulse until I called 911 and they told me to. Then I knew for sure that she was dead.”
“And you didn't see anyone around?”
Jennifer shook her head.
“And you didn't notice anyone suspicious earlier in the day?”
She shook her head again.
“What about any noises?” Christopher asked.
Jennifer cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean did you hear anything when you found Teresa?”
Jennifer was visibly uncomfortable. She couldn't get the picture of the dead body out of her head. “No.”
“Close your eyes or a moment. Try to remember. Did you hear any cars leaving?”
Jennifer closed her eyes. “No but I think I heard a motorcycle off in the distance. I remember because it was crazy loud.”
Christopher smiled and continued writing in his book. “Did you notice any bikers that day at school. Someone who didn't belong.”
“Now that you bring it up. I did notice somebody in the parking lot when I was going to class. I mean we see bikers around town all the time but this guy was just sitting on his bike doing nothing. You don't normally see those type of guys going to college.”
“What did he look like?”
Jennifer concentrated with her eyes still closed. “He wore a leather jacket.”
“Any insignia on it?”
Jennifer shook her head. “I didn't see what was on it.”
“What did he look like?”
“I don't know.” Jennifer opened her eyes. “I can only see his shadow. I'm sorry but that's all I remember”
Christopher wrote it all down. Every word. “You did very good, Jennifer. Better than most eye witnesses.” He stood up and Jennifer opened the front door.
“I hope you catch this fucker.”
“Don't worry, I'll get him.”
Christopher finally found the break in the case he was looking for. He was finally on the trail of the killer now. It was only a matter of time.
Chapter Eight
Christopher parked at the Jimstown sheriff's office. Randall Higsby came running out of the small building, his holstered pistol knocking against his hip. He knocked on his car window. Christopher couldn't find the controls to lower the window and finally opened the
door instead.
“You told me it was urgent. Is everything all right?” Hisby asked.
Randall held a cup of coffee in one hand. The smell itself woke Christopher up a little bit.
“Yes. Everything is fine. I need every file on the motorcycle clubs in town and in the surrounding areas.”
“Every club?”
“Yes every club. And get me a cup of coffee.”
Christopher sat down at a desk in an interrogation room. It was the only place quiet enough to get some work done. He blew on the hot coffee and took a sip. It was no Starbucks but it was better than nothing.
Randall brought in stacks of files on a cart. “Here is everything we got on motorcycle clubs.”
Christopher stood up as he unloaded stack after stack onto the desk. “This might take a long time.”
“Tell me what we're looking for and I could help.”
Christopher flipped open the first file labeled: Dog Soldiers MC “I'm not sure exactly. I questioned Jennifer Skyler and she may have heard a motorcycle flee the scene.”
Higsby sat down at the table and opened another file. “And you think it was someone in one of these motorcycle clubs? Because I can tell you that there are a lot of people that ride motorcycles in this town and not all of them are apart of a club.”
“It's just a hunch I have.” Christopher knew it was a long shot but he had to try.
He combed through the files on the Dog Soldiers MC and came across Joshua Kent's file. He almost spit out his coffee when he recognized him as the man he made out with at the bar.
“Did you find something?” Higsby asked.
“Nothing yet.” Christopher tried to hide his face as best he could. He had worked on his cold expression while at Quantico to help with interrogations but he was never able to fully master it.
Higsby returned to his work and Christopher delved deeper into the file. Joshua Kent was twenty-six years old and had a rap sheet longer than most. The list of misdemeanors was almost impressive. The one that got him was armed robbery of a liquor store. He did five years in the state penitentiary for that one.
Christopher always believed he was a good judge of character. A quality he thought would benefit him at the FBI. But here he was sticking his tongue down a convicted criminal's throat. Good thing he was able to resist him.
But he couldn't help thinking about what could've happened if he went home with him. Christopher feeling Joshua's hard muscles over his tight white shirt jumped into his head. He imagined taking off his shirt to reveal a canvas of tattoos. Hsi heart skipped a beat.
“You all right, Christopher? You're just staring off into space.”
Higsby pulled Christopher out of his fantasy. Christopher rubbed his eyes and pretended he was tired. He took another sip of coffee. “Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night.”
“I'm not finding much here.” Higsby closed the last file in his stack. “We know who the major players are but we don't have anything beyond that.”
“That's not unusual for such a small town. You need a lot of money and manpower to put on big investigations.”
“How are you going to spot a serial killer among all these?” Higsby waved his hand across the files.
Christopher shuffled papers. “I'm not. We don't have enough information here to even get a list of suspects. I'm going to have to go straight to the source.”
“You think the serial killer is just going to make himself known to you?”
“Of course not,” Christopher said. “But some of these rival clubs might just have an idea who's behind these killings.”
Higsby stood up. “You're going to need my help. These guys are dangerous.”
“I can take care of myself. Besides, I need you here combing through files. There may be a diamond in there.”
Higsby deflated back into his chair. Christopher knew that this small town cop would only slow him down. And he didn't want him to know that he'd already been in contact with one of the members of the Dog Soldiers MC.
–
Christopher pulled up the Eight of Spades. The parking lot was devoid of the mass of trucks and motorcycles. In the light of day, the bar looked even worse than the last time he saw it. Almost like it had been abandoned for years. Vultures circled overhead looking for their next meal.
Christopher hoped he wouldn't be it.
He stepped up to the front of the bar and the rotted wood porch creaked under his feet. He tried to open the door but it was locked. He rapped on it lightly and waited in the summer heat.
Footsteps were audible from inside. A latch was undone and the door opened. Christopher recognized him immediately. The man from that night. The man from the files.
Joshua Scott.
“We're closed. Come back tonight.”
The door snapped closed in Christopher's face before he even had a chance to say a word.
Joshua didn't even remember him.
Chapter Nine
Christopher bit his bottom lip and took in a deep breath. Joshua was just like any other man he'd ever been with. One night was good enough and they were done.
He slammed his fist onto the door. “Open up.”
The door opened wider this time and Joshua appeared again. Christopher shoved his FBI right in his face. “I need to ask you a few questions, Joshua Scott.”
Joshua smiled. The appearance of a badge did nothing to change his swagger. “Well come on in Agent...”
“Taylor. Agent Taylor,” Christopher replied. He brushed past him and caught a scent of his cologne. But he was too angry at the fact Joshua didn't remember him to enjoy the smell.
The bar was empty and silent. Wooden chairs were turned upside down onto the tables. The pool cues were laid down on the green velvet. Everything looked neat and organized. He wanted to go outside and check the sign again to make sure that he was in the right place.
But the sight of Joshua took away that doubt.
Joshua closed the door and leaned against it with his arms folded. “And what do I owe the pleasure?”
Christopher wasn't used to ex-cons acting this way. Most of them were too scared of being sent back to prison to even speak a word to him.
“I need some information on some motorcycle clubs.”
Joshua walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. He set them down and poured two shots. “Care for a drink?”
Christopher rolled his eyes. “It's barely the afternoon.”
“Suit yourself.” Joshua grabbed a shot and downed it. He didn't waste a second, drinking the shot that was meant for Christopher.
Christopher looked away, unimpressed. Men were always trying to portray this macho image that they believed made other men go weak in the knees. Like being a drunk was ever sexy.
As Joshua wiped whiskey from his drooling mouth, Christopher wondered what ever attracted him to Joshua in the first place.
“So what can I do for you?” Joshua asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.
Christopher took out a photo from his breast pocket and threw it in front of Joshua. He looked down and saw the dead body of Teresa Cullen: the first victim.
Joshua let out a laugh. “Are you really trying to pin this murder on me? I've never even seen this girl before.”
Christopher knew this man wasn't the killer. Didn't fit the profile. He was too much like typical biker. They may be criminals but they didn't kill young women for the fun of it. “No I don't think you killed her but you might know who did.”
“Listen, I don't rat out my brothers. Just like I assume you don't rat out your corrupt FBI agents.”
He had a point. Christopher had met many FBI agents who did questionable things. He would never in a million years go to the higher ups and rat them out. It would be career suicide. In Joshua's case, it could mean his death.
Christopher pulled out three more photos of the victims and placed them one by one in front of Joshua. This was something he'd do in an interrogation room to make
the suspect feel guilty and maybe tell him something he didn't want to before.
“What makes you think that it was my club that did this to these girls?”
“It could be your club or any of the others. I don't know.” Christopher debated whether to tell him what the eyewitness had said . “All I do know is that a motorcycle was heard fleeing one of the murder scenes.”
Christopher examined his reaction but Joshua was stone cold.
“Will you help me catch this guy?”
Joshua looked closely at each picture on the bar and pushed them back to Christopher. “Sorry I can't help you.”
Christopher wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer. “These are only the beginning. These aren't just random killings. This man hunts women. It's all he thinks about. He's got a taste for it now and he won't stop. We have four victims already and that number will only get higher.”
Joshua could see the determination in Christopher's eyes. He wasn't going to let this go. “Have we met before?” Joshua asked.
A low guttural growl came from deep down in Christopher. The holstered gun on his hip was itching to be fired. He looked around for any witnesses. He could fire a couple shots into his chest and just walk away. Nobody would be the wiser. Hell, they'd probably call in Christopher to investigate it.
“Yes we met the other night. Do you remember out front?”
Realization hit Joshua but their was no sense of embarrassment in his face. Christopher had melted in his arms that night and he almost had him. “I remember now. That was really nice.” Joshua leaned over the bar, getting closer to Christopher's face. He stared deep into Christopher's eyes, searching for something.
Christopher's first instinct was to close his eyes and surrender to Joshua's lips. That's what a normal man would do when faced with such a man. But Christopher was unlike most men. It's what got him into the club that is the FBI. He was good at resisting temptation. Christopher took a step back and left Joshua hanging.
Joshua knew it wouldn't be that easy. He loved the chase. Easy guys weren't his cup of tea. He stood up straight and smiled. “I think I'm going to help you.”