by V. F. Mason
“Why did they call us?” Jacob asks, as he zooms in even more on his iPad to study the details. “For us to take the case, we’d need more bodies than this one.”
“That’s the thing.” Preston clicks again and the screen changes to a few other slides that hold similar pictures, but the pieces on them look older, and the find consists more of bones. “They found one more body, several feet away from the first one.” He huffs in exasperation as several slides mix up before he settles on the right one. “They’re searching the place for more. Quite an odd place to bury your victims, but something must’ve driven him there.”
Jacob leans back in his chair, disgust written all over him. “We are dealing with a serial killer then.”
“A dangerous serial killer.” Kierian finally speaks while he points at the body. “Look at all this work. That takes time and dedication. He planned this. It’s not spur of the moment.”
“No sign of remorse either. He doesn’t respect the victims, based on how he threw them away. For him, they deserved it,” I murmur, making a mental note to myself.
A serial killer without remorse equals a smart serial killer. They don’t have emotions clouding their judgment, and everything is for their personal gain only. They will use everything from manipulation to torture to get what they want.
“Do they know how long ago the other crime was?” Andrea bites on her pen. “How did he escape our radar for so long?”
“The autopsy should be ready soon, but my guess? Around a year based on the condition of the bones.”
“Two victims at least in the span of a few months.” Noah finally speaks. “He is evolving.”
Preston nods. “And doesn’t think anyone can stop him.”
I agree with his conclusion, because he doesn’t even bother to hide the bodies properly. “Any information on the other victim? Are they connected in any way?”
Preston shakes his head. “Ken Aldridge was a middle-aged man who taught music at a school, and had a loving marriage and two kids. Thomas was a lawyer with a kid on the way. No mutual friends, hobbies, or anything else. Never crossed paths.”
“For a serial killer like this guy, there must be a pattern that triggers his MO,” Jacob muses. “He doesn’t randomly pick them. But what is it?”
“That’s why they invited us. Okay, get in the cars. We need to see the crime scene as soon as possible. Maybe we’ll find something useful. Andrea and Jacob, you go to the morgue and study the pieces. I’ll speak with the detective assigned to the case. Preston, check for similar crimes in any other cities or states. Solved or not. Kierian, take Ella with you and check out the crime scene. They’re still scanning the place.” Noah barks orders quickly and everyone spins into action.
Of all things, he chose for me to see the crime scene on my first day.
Why?
Psychopath
She nervously bites her nail as she gets her stuff ready to go, and I can barely contain the sinister smile that threatens to spill out at the prospect of her fear.
The wince, the horror flashing in her eyes during the presentation. I long to show her more, for her to see how a man can go insane.
And also pride… she needs to see what I’m capable of so she’ll forever understand.
There is no escape from me.
But first, she needs to know. She needs to show me she is worthy for me to spill my secret to her.
Unfortunately for her, it means solving a crime.
My fingers prickle as familiar excitement rushes through me, but I fist my hand and keep the indifferent expression, because the time hasn’t come yet.
Anniversary be fucking damned.
Chapter Five
Crime Scene
Richmond, Virginia
May 2007
Ella
“Ella Gadot!” the principal says into the mic as the audience hollers, clapping fiercely.
Chloe’s family gets up to whistle and send smiles my way as I go to get my diploma during graduation. All the teachers shake my hand while praising my intelligence and predicting I’ll make our city proud someday.
I quickly grab my diploma while winking at the principal, who is still disappointed with me for not wanting to give the valedictorian speech. He passed it to Kyle, who has a slightly lower GPA than mine and gets off on the attention.
For me, it means nothing, so whatever. Besides, the three most important people will never hear it, so what’s the point?
I look up to the sky, and murmur, “I did it, Mom… Dad… Sarah. I love you.” And although it’s been a year, the pain doesn't go away.
Not a raging inferno anymore, but rather a scar that will never heal.
I join Chloe back at the seat as she wiggles her brows. “Who are fucking college students now? We are!” She shoots her fist in the air in a victory gesture and then hugs me and Simone at the same time while we groan.
“We’re not even going to the same college, girl,” Simone says. I silently laugh while she shares my amusement, but Chloe just shrugs.
“Our colleges are only like a few hours away. So I expect you two to be there for me in case I have a crisis,” she warns, while I just roll my eyes.
“I’m studying in New York and you’ll be in Texas. How is that a few hours away?” I wonder sometimes if Chloe lives in her makeshift reality.
“I meant flying,” she says, wiggling her fingers at us while her shoe keeps digging into the chair in front of us.
Yeah, like that will be possible with my law degree while holding down a waitressing job. Although I have insurance money and a scholarship to New York University, for the past year, I’ve busted my ass at the local diner to have enough for my spending money. Chloe’s parents constantly try to buy stuff for me, but I refuse. They have two more kids to feed and clothe. I’m not their responsibility, although I will be forever grateful for this past year.
Never once have they made me an outsider. They’ve tried their best to integrate me in their family. But unfortunately, it didn’t change the variables in my life’s equation.
“News flash, we aren’t rich,” Simone adds, but Chloe has none of that.
“That’s not freaking true—” Whatever she says next escapes my notice as my eyes widen when far away, emerging from a car, I recognize Agent Bates.
The man who investigated my parents’ death.
I rise swiftly, ignoring the surprised looks thrown my way, and almost run to the guy who holds a box with a red bow.
“Hi,” I say, while he just nods and gives me the gift. While I take it, I can’t care less for it. “Thank you. Why are you here?” A year ago, they couldn’t find the person who killed my parents, so they wrapped up the case and left.
He told me there is just so much profiling they can do, and I hate knowing the monster is out there, terrorizing other families. Although I never found anything in the crime section of the newspaper, I still kept tabs on those constantly.
But he is here now, so it means something, right? No point in stalling.
“Yes, we found the man responsible for what happened to your family. And we are sorry.”
“Sorry?” I repeat like a parrot, confused as hell.
They should be proud and happy! Now I can finally spit in the face of that awful man for what he has done.
Before he can elaborate, chaos erupts around us.
A SWAT team surrounds us, and a moment later, I hear a scream behind me and spin quickly, only to see Chloe’s dad being held down on the ground as the officer recites his rights to him.
No.
No. No.
But Agent Bates doesn't let me live in denial. “He is the one, Ella. And I’m so sorry.”
This couldn't have been a bigger nightmare, could it?
But as I watch Uncle Benjamin get cuffed by the police officers while complete indifference is reflected on his face, the horror becomes my reality.
And I do the only thing I can think of.
I run in the opposite direc
tion before anyone can stop me.
New York, New York
May 2018
Ella
The car stops abruptly and I startle awake, sitting straight at once.
“We’re here,” Kierian says, while chuckling. “Partied hard last night, huh?”
Frowning at his humor, I just shake my head and check my phone along with my tablet to make sure I can snap pictures if needed.
As hot and man-whorish as the guy seemed back in the club, he hasn't spoken a word since we got the order. He just pointed at the car, telling me to hop in, and turned on classical music that immediately filled the space.
I find it weird, but then it seems everyone has issues in this job, so I’m not really surprised. I just wish I hadn’t slept with the guy two weeks ago, even if it was the best sex of my life. Maybe he doesn’t even remember us hooking up.
And at that, anger swipes through me, because the idea tastes bitter in my mouth.
Moving on.
I’m about to hop down, when his hand on my arm stills me. “Have you seen a crime scene before?”
“Yeah.” Back during my internship with the FBI and the police academy, the only reason I felt bad during the presentation of a case was because I’d never seen parts of bodies just randomly lying around. I think it can unsettle anybody.
“Dead bodies too?” He presses the issue and I nod, even though that’s only partially true.
While I’ve seen them, I’ve never come close or touched them willingly, but I know it’s part of the job. “You think we might find something?”
He shrugs and we get out of the car, while he murmurs, “You never know. I’m just making sure you know what to expect. This job won’t be for you if you turn green every time.”
I don’t have the chance to reply or defend myself against what feels like a personal attack, when a police officer greets us. “Agents.” He shakes our hands. “Thank you for coming.”
“Did you find anything?”
The man exhales heavily. “Part of the first victim, and the second, legs. But other than that, no. I think it was just these two bodies.” Kierian doesn’t seem convinced, though, as he grabs the gloves, gives me a pair, and puts on the other.
While he hunts for more clues, I look around the forest, registering several details in my mind, trying to build a complete picture that will give me better insight into the unsub’s mind.
The forest is located halfway up the hill, with the road several miles from here and the lake. Besides a few hunting shacks, the area is undeveloped despite being situated between two cities. However, it’s an open space and not a secluded area, so anyone passing by could have seen the person dropping bodies or driving up here.
So the unsub must have been strong, have a driver’s license, and good knowledge of the city and its outskirts. Not to mention he knew the exact place where wolves or coyotes would be searching for food.
But even those animals don’t typically feast much on human flesh, just destroy the bodies. It’s like the unsub punished the victims even after death, basically showing them one, giant middle finger.
Taking out my phone, I dial the shortcut for Preston’s number, and he answers on the first ring. “Yes?”
“Can you check something for me? What’s closer to the crime scene? New York or New Jersey?” Maybe we’ve searched in the wrong location, but we had to narrow it down.
If a different state seems like the stronger possibility, we’ll have to transfer the case. “One second.” Preston’s clicks on his keyboard echo in my ear, and in a second, he replies, “Definitely New York. It’s around an hour’s ride, give or take ten minutes. It’s around two hours to New Jersey.”
“The unsub is from New York.”
“Right, his MO shows no respect for victims, so he wouldn’t spend more time with them than necessary. In his mind, it means giving them attention they don’t deserve.”
At least we narrowed it down to the city. “Check everyone who recently got out of prison or a psychiatric facility, please.”
“Sure.” Then he disconnects the call, and I walk down the narrow path among dogs sniffing around for clues.
Kierian kneels, tracing his fingers on the ground and looking closely. I recognize the barely visible tire track. “Police cars?”
He shakes his head. “They won’t drive this close to a crime scene.”
“But it can’t be him. The bodies are several months old and we’ve had some heavy rains.”
“Unless he comes here on a weekly basis.” Sometimes serial killers love to visit their crime scenes; they get a special high from the place that fueled their sick desires. It usually works for them until the longing for fresh blood overpowers their pleasure in knowing someone lies in the ground.
That is usually the time they choose new victims, and it becomes a never-ending circle.
Except I don’t think that’s what drives our unsub; I don’t have an explanation for it yet, but something is not adding up for me.
Kierian rises, while shouting to the men nearby. “Check those tracks. We need information on them as soon as possible.” Then he briefly glances at me and resumes scanning the environment. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“It’s easier for him to kill than come here.”
“Why?”
“He clearly hated those men. He wouldn’t give them the time of day after the killing.”
“Interesting theory, but we shall see.” Narrowing my eyes on his dismissive tone, I’m about to speak a few not-so-nice words to him when we turn in the direction of a huge-ass tree that stands a few feet away from us, as a police officer shouts, “We found something.”
We rush over there, and when the criminalist scoots aside, scattered flesh and body parts come into view.
A festered leg and hand, smeared with dirt, have bite marks visible on the skin. The smell coming from them is so offensive stomach acid rushes up my throat. I count to ten in my head to control my natural reaction and then swallow back the bitter taste.
Kierian stands closer to me, bumping his shoulder against mine, and I blink in surprise at his silent support. He can’t do much else with his gloved hands. “Are these similar to what you found earlier?” The criminalist nods.
“Yes, they appear to belong to the last victim.” And the man proceeds to put them in a bag, while carefully preparing to take fingerprints in case he finds them.
Kierian dials someone, and in a second, Noah’s voice echoes between us on loudspeaker. “What is it?”
“We found two more body pieces, but they all appear the same. Looks like only two victims were here.”
Noah stays silent, and then asks, “Preston, do you have anything for me?” He is on the line too?
My brows furrow, while Kierian mouths, “Conference call.” And then we hear Preston’s voice. “No debts or loans, and no illegal stuff. So it’s not a revenge or professional kill.”
Well, we can cross mafia off the list, but it doesn’t suit the unsub anyway.
He won’t work for anyone else.
“Can it be Sociopath?” The notorious serial killer who cleaned up half the elite around seven years ago. “Maybe he’s back?” Noah asks.
Before any of the guys can reply, I pitch in, “He hasn’t been active in years. And the victimology is different.”
“I agree with Ella,” Kierian says.
Noah orders, “Come back here. We need to review the information before proceeding.”
Kierian nods to the police officer. “We’re going to head out. Thanks!” We remove our gloves and throw them into the trash. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me to the car.
“What are you doing?” I try to tug my arm away, but it’s useless. He doesn’t react except to press me to the car, blocking the view of me from everyone else.
“Are you all right?” He scans me from head to toe, and I blink, surprised at the surge of energy between us as he transforms from cold coworker to dominating man who awakens
my body with new desires with a single touch.
“Yes.” Licking my dry lips, I exhale heavily. “I just don’t see… well… that on a daily basis. But I’ll adjust with practice.” Not wanting to create an uncomfortable situation for both of us, I say, “Let’s just forget about it.” Stepping away from him, I go to my side of the car and get in as he does the same.
My hands freeze on the seatbelt, when he tells me, “You don’t run from dead bodies, but you do run from men.” Well, apparently, he does remember our one-night stand.
I don’t know what annoys me more, the relief flashing through me, or fear where this conversation might lead.
Or rather how I sneaked out of his apartment after he fell asleep, so I wouldn’t have to face him the morning after.
In one single night, he made me feel more alive than I’ve ever been. The emotions he awakened inside me have no place in my life.
“I didn’t run.” Clearing my throat, I add, “Even the term one-night stand means two people for just one night.”
“Thank you for explaining the phrase to me. Here I went through life, letting women walk all over me,” he replies cockily, and I want to smack him on the back of his head.
None of it is funny.
“This is not funny, Kierian.”
“I beg to differ.”
Huffing in exasperation, I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We work together now, so it’s better we never discuss it again, okay? There is no point.” Since he stays silent, smoothly navigating the car through different turns, I finish with, “We are coworkers.” Oddly enough though, the word tastes bitter in my mouth.
What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be this emotional over some guy I just met two weeks ago and shared a few hours of sex with.
Especially not when there are people dying because of a serial killer.