Serial Volume Three

by Jaden Wilkes

  “I can do this, Donovan. And then when I’m done, we can have our own personal celebration. I’d love to be fucked in a bed for once. This case has been stretching us far too thin, if you know what I mean.”

  Continuing to play along, I agreed. “I do know what you mean and I’m hoping that we can put all this tension behind us and explore what it would be like to have a relationship that wasn’t strained by the stress of this investigation. Make him talk, Emily. If anybody can do it, you can.”

  Her eyes lit impossibly brighter. “I’m on it, boss.” Her tongue peeked out to lick along her glossed lip. “That bastard will be eating out of my well-manicured hand within an hour.”

  “We’re all done in the house and we haven’t found one thing that will connect Mr. Hollister to the crimes.” A uniformed cop interrupted us. “If you want us to have access to the locked room and his personal space, really tear it apart, you’ve got to get more than a preliminary warrant. As it stands, that’s all we can do, sorry.”

  Looking at the man like I was actually annoyed by his intrusion, I said, “Then pack up your equipment, we’ve got the car back at the station, go check it out. There’s nothing left here to do but continue interviewing Ms. Lapierre. By the looks of her, I don’t think there’s much she’ll be able to offer.”

  Emily laughed softly at my feigned insult of the witness – smug superiority apparent in her expression.

  In truth, Veronica probably knew very little, but that wasn’t the only reason for my visit.

  “Oh, Donovan, the girl is an idiot. After this little stint playing rich housewife to a serial killer, she’ll have to return to that dump of a restaurant where she worked. Poor thing. She really has the IQ of dirt. Have fun talking to her as I play with our real criminal.”

  Emily strode out of the house with wiggling hips, slowly trailed behind by the Portland PD as they removed their equipment. Once alone, I turned to look around the house and marveled at the immaculate beauty of the space. Fucker had way too much cash than any one person should have.

  Weaving my way out of the living room and down a hall, I located Veronica where she was still sitting hunched over the table. The image of her chained up and dripping in the shower flashed in my mind and my cock twitched with anticipation. Her body was magnificent. Full and supple. I wondered if her cunt was still tight after the pounding I’m sure it took from CK’s cock on a daily basis. A question ran through my head as I looked at her.

  Why hadn’t he killed this one? What was so special about the bitch that he resisted the urge to flay her open like he had all the others?

  “Ms. Lapierre?”

  She looked up, the skin around her eyes hot and swollen from her tears. As soon as she recognized me, she startled and wrapped her arms tighter around her frame. “Detective.” She answered.

  “Actually, my name is Agent Blake. Detectives are the police. I work for the FBI.”

  “Oh,” she said, unimpressed by my credentials. “Well, whoever you are, I’ve already told that woman who was here earlier all I know about Jude. I just want to be left alone.”

  Taking a seat at the table, I forced my tone of voice into a sympathetic caress. “I understand that, Ms. Lapierre, but I was hoping you would be able to help Jude. If you can give me more information…”

  “He didn’t do anything. If this is about Billy, then you need to understand that I only just heard about his death now. Jude saved me the night he brought me home from the diner, without him I surely would have died at Billy’s hand by now.”

  Her words connected the dots in my head and confirmed what I’d suspected all along. There was a connection between the deaths of the prostitutes and Billy’s, there had to be.

  “Veronica…” I started, “…May I call you Veronica?”

  “Yes.”

  I smiled kindly. “Veronica, I need to tell you what Mr. Hollister has been accused of. We’re not here about Billy. We’re here about the deaths of several prostitutes in the Portland and Seattle area. Additionally, two waitresses have disappeared.”

  “Two?” She asked.

  Realizing she was one of those waitresses, I backpedaled. “Including you, yes. Two. However, I believe you are now nothing more than a closed and solved missing persons case.”

  Her eyes sharpened, the desire to protect her man a molten heat in her expression. “I’m not missing, so obviously you have the wrong man. Jude has nothing to do with those other women. He’s been here with me the entire time. He rescued me and nursed me back to health. Why would he do that if he was only interested in killing women?”

  Sitting back, I crossed one leg over the other at the knee and steepled my fingers to my chin. “Have you heard of the Cascades Killer?”

  “Yes,” she admitted softly. “I saw something about it on the news.

  “Then you know that a man has been abducting women, carving them up and leaving them out like trash on the side of roads or abandoning their bodies in fields to be picked apart by animals.”

  “Jude wouldn’t do that.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  She steeled her expression, her eyes burning angrily into mine. “Because he’s been here the entire time fucking me. When would he have time for those other women.”

  It was time I broke her confidence. Emily was right about one thing. Veronica was not the brightest bulb in the pack.

  “I know you’re lying, Veronica.”

  She glared at me and I held my hands up in feigned surrender.

  “I understand your desire to protect him. I’m sure you love him and that he loves you, but we already know he hasn’t been here the entire time that these murders have been committed. He’s gone to work. He’s gone out to restaurants. I’ve seen him personally out and about.”

  It hadn’t been until we’d walked into the house to serve the warrant that I’d recognized him from the night Emily and I had eaten at the dive restaurant where Veronica had previously worked. As soon as I spotted the asshole, I’d realized my instincts had been well honed that night. We could have solved this case weeks before if I’d just ignored Emily and followed the son of a bitch home.

  “He didn’t do what you are accusing him of doing. He goes to work. Who doesn’t?” There was the hint of rebellion in her voice, but when I narrowed my gaze on her, she shrunk into herself, hugging her arms around her abdomen even tighter.

  My cock twitched again to see the submissive slut inside her shine through. Perhaps this is the reason Jude chose to keep her alive.

  What I did next was wrong. It went against every damn protocol in the Bureau and for that reason alone, it excited me even more. I was tired of the façade…tired of being a good guy in a world where the bad guys had all the fun. If this investigation had taught me anything, it was the fact that I needed control. I craved it like a desert traveller craves water. The need was born deep in my body and it set every nerve ending I had on high alert.

  And this girl was exactly what my body was craving.

  “Would you like to help your boyfriend, Veronica?” I asked the question lazily, pretending like her answer held no more importance to me than a stranger’s choice in bread type for their sandwich.

  She startled again, her body flinching with the discomfort of knowing that a predator lurked in her vicinity. Having been with Jude, she must have been aware of something being off with a man like me. She’d not only experienced it before, but fell in love with it.

  “Yes.” She finally answered the question on a whisper.

  “Do you know what you can do to help him?”

  Her eyes locked to mine as she stood up from her chair. “Are you like him?” She asked.

  I nodded my head; not feeling the need to put into words something that we both knew already.

  Her body was covered by nothing more than a thin t-shirt and black yoga pants. Moving around the edge of the table, she leaned against it, finally lifting her body enough so that she could sit on the edge next to me.
/>   “Spread your legs, beautiful.”

  I sat back in my chair and watched, my cock coming to life with the brilliance of her submission. Her arms moved as her hands gripped the bottom of her shirt. Within seconds, she pulled the cloth from her body and tossed it to the floor.

  Looking at me with soft eyes, she asked, “If I do this, will you let him go?”

  “Yes,” I lied. In truth, there was nothing I could do for the man if the State or the Bureau found something connecting him to the crimes. But she didn’t know that.

  Her head nodded in understanding. “How do you want me, then? Here on the table?” Her bare breasts bounced as she scooted closer to where I sat. “Or somewhere else? Jude has all sorts of toys we can play with in my bedroom. You may like some of them. You remind me of him.”

  It was scary that she was able to so easily see the predator inside me. It made me wonder if she recognized it because it frightened her, or because like can always recognize like.

  “We can start here. Take off your pants, bitch.”

  Her eyes came alive when I called her that and I thanked the poor bastard being interrogated at the station for having trained her so well.

  Sliding down from the edge of the table, she pushed the thin material of her pants from her hips, allowing it to puddle on the floor. Now completely naked, she looked like the girl I’d found a few hours before in the shower.

  She was magnificent.

  “Bend over the table, Ms. Lapierre.”

  She complied, but moved when I reached to touch her. Looking back at me from over her shoulder she asked, “How did you know it was Jude? Why do you think he could have killed those women?”

  I smiled. “Because Mr. Hollister is the only man in the Portland area driving the type of car that was used to pick up the last victim. He was spotted by a mechanic in the area who saw him with Noreen Hamilton before she disappeared. Now shut the fuck up and bend over the table.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ronnie

  Stroking his cock over the material of his pants, his omniscient eyes burned where they examined every inch of my skin. I didn’t want to cheat on Jude, but the idea of another man’s cock excited me. Would he stretch me, or would he be a poor second to the size of Jude?

  The surface of the table was cold against my skin as I bent over and pressed my body against it. Rough hands were on my skin within seconds, fondling my ass and coming beneath me to squeeze my breasts painfully. I could feel my body become wet and I tried not to think about how easy it was for men like this to take me.

  I was easy prey.

  And I liked it.

  He didn’t say another word and I listened to him removing his pants, the weight of his gun hitting the floor in his haste to free his cock. Is it weird I wanted him to fuck me with that gun shoved against my temple? The thought turned me on more. Giving up ultimate control twisted me up inside, making me hypersensitive to his fingers as they were shoved deep inside my body.

  I moaned and pleaded for more, my body writhing on top of the cold hard surface of the table.

  “You want my cock, you dirty little bitch? I’ll give it to you. Even better than you’re sick as fuck boyfriend can.”

  Thick and long, he shoved himself inside me and I cried out, my hips banging painfully against the table as he fucked me. I reminded myself that I was doing this for Jude, but in the back of my mind I knew I was doing this for myself.

  Fuck men. They all treated me like a cunt to use and a body and mind to control. But maybe it was me that was controlling them?

  “Fuck me harder, Agent!”

  He did and I felt empowered. Jude always fucked harder when I told him to as well. They thought they were proving their virility. I knew they were obeying the command I gave them.

  That’s the thing Jude never picked up about me. Sure, I’d cooked him his dinner and I’d played the captive in his games. He’d thought he’d outsmarted me, he’d thought he controlled me, but in truth, those lazy days spent luxuriating in the comfort of the room he’d given me had been a time to think.

  I wasn’t as weak as everyone believed me to be. I wasn’t as stupid either.

  But I’d let them believe that, because it put me in a position to reap the benefits of a kept woman. I didn’t have to work. I didn’t have to slave away in order to scrape together enough food to eat. I was kept healthy and clean. I was fucked any time I felt the urge.

  I was pampered.

  And I wasn’t about to give all that up.

  “Oh, that feels good. Harder Agent!”

  The man had a nice dick. I’d give him that. His hands gripped my hips and when his teeth bit down into the skin of my neck, I squealed in wanton delight. I’d let this asshole think less of me as well. Just like that pretty brunette bitch that thought she was so much better than I could ever be.

  The fucker released his orgasm inside me and I thanked God that Jude had the foresight to put me on the pill.

  I’d hate to have a child and not know if the father was a sick as fuck psychopath, or an agent who’d found a way to disguise that he was no better than the criminals he hunted.

  With his chest dripping sweat onto my back, Agent Blake gripped my hair between his fingers and tugged. “Now that I’ve had that sweet cunt, you’re going to keep your mouth shut about this, aren’t you? I’ll try to help your boyfriend, you dumb bitch, but you’re too stupid to realize that it’s out of my hands now that the state has him. You better hope for a fucking miracle if you hope to save Jude from execution.”

  I smiled, turning my head slightly so as to keep the Agent from seeing my grin. Jude would escape without being butchered for his crimes.

  I just had to figure out a way to ensure that he walked away from that jail a free man.

  ***

  The moment I was alone, I tore through Jude’s apartment. I knew he had keys to his office in the safe in his closet, and I’d snuck a peek at one time to get the combination. I opened his office and ripped apart every drawer I could get into.

  I’d finally located a receipt for a warehouse and a set of keys to one of his expensive cars. The police were such idiots for not thinking to look through his business records in search for any information about properties he owned. I guessed his money offered him some protection from their prying eyes. I wasn’t sure of the legalities of it, but man it was nice to have that kind of money at your disposal.

  I knew Jude pretty well by then. I knew he liked to take his time and knew he would need a place to hold these women he’d apparently used to cheat. Asshole. I didn’t give a shit if the bitches ended up carved up and rotting along a fucking road. They still served to turn him on, and for that, I’d get even.

  Speeding along the road, I didn’t worry that I was being followed. Everybody thought I was an idiot and I had no problem letting them think that. I was going to save my man. It was the only thing that mattered to me after plugging in the address to the warehouse hidden out in the middle of crack town.

  Why did he have to fuck prostitutes? Why did he have to kill a waitress from the same restaurant where he’d met me? I thought we were special. I thought I meant something to him.

  I guess it didn’t matter what type of guy you ended up with. Every single one of them was no better than a desperate dog wandering the streets in search of another piece of ass.

  Pulling up to the run down and discreet building, I pulled out a set of keys I’d found taped to the purchase receipt of the property. The sun was fading fast and the building was draped in shadow. Letting myself in, I first noticed the cold bite of the air inside the rooms. But my thoughts were quickly freed of that observation when I smelled shit and greasy food in the air.

  “Hello?” A weak female voice called out and my blood boiled over.

  “Hello?” I screamed back, weaving the halls in search of the sound.

  “In here!” She screamed. “Please help me!”

  Finally locating the room she was in, I was struck dumb b
y the horrible state she was in. I didn’t give a damn about the blood on her skin or the shit on the floor.

  The bitch needed help…and help was what I would give her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Patty Wilson

  She thought she heard something, like a door opening or maybe a car door slamming. She stood up and stretched, preparing for the rich guy’s return. She had her speech rehearsed, the things she’d say to tug on his heartstrings and get him to let her go.

  He hadn’t been back for a couple days, and she was starting to get worried. It was freezing in the warehouse, even in the smaller room she was in, and she’d eaten the last of the Chinese take out last night.

  The bucket in the corner really stunk and she couldn’t help it. At least she hadn’t had to poop all over herself again.

  She waited, eager to begin her campaign for freedom, but he never came. The chain around her neck wouldn’t let her reach the door, so she couldn’t even open it and see if somebody was out there.

  “Hello?” she called out and waited for a reply. Nothing. “Fuck,” she said and slid back down to the floor, hunched over and huddled to try and stay warm.

  The darkness is what got to her most. She might be able to handle the chain around her neck and the throbbing, most likely festering wound being rubbed raw every time she moved, but the darkness was the worst.

  She would kill for a room with a window, some way to determine what time it was.

  She laughed at her last thought, bargaining for an upgraded prison? How quickly she’d fallen.

  She started to cry again, but more of a weak mewling sound at this point. She didn’t think she had much more left to give. Her only saving grace was the sink being within chain length; at least she wouldn’t die of thirst.

  Last night she’d dreamt of Sarah. In her dream she was living in a little cottage near the edge of a forest. It was just her and her baby, alone and happy and healthy and safe.

  Sarah was older and was running, so Patty had made a game of chasing her around the little living room in their happy home.

  The last thing she remembered before she woke up was collapsing on the couch with Sarah, tickling her chubby legs and delighting in her joyful screams of laughter.