Serial

by Jaden Wilkes

  I was still in place when he returned. Stepping up behind me, his chest pressed against my back. Wrapping his arms around me, he took my hand in his, applying enough pressure to stop the flow of blood before wrapping a bandage over the wound.

  I was lost in his heat, shame freezing me in my place for having cut myself. I shouldn’t enjoy this moment, shouldn’t view his proximity as anything more than his desire to tend to my injury. I wanted to believe he was holding me close because he wanted me. But that was a silly thought.

  What would a man who had it all want with a girl like me?

  I had nothing. No home, no job, no family or friends. I allowed people to abuse me. I wasn’t strong or secure and because of that, I had nothing to offer.

  When he’d finished bandaging my hand, he stepped away from me. “Go sit down and finish. Be careful with the knife, Pet.”

  Taking my seat, I tried to explain. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. I was amazed by your skill…”

  He glared at me. “My skill?”

  “With the knife. I wondered if you’d had practice as a chef or something.” My words trailed off. I’d never seen him so angry.

  “Just chop the vegetables, Pet.” Dismissing me with cold words, he went back to slicing the meat and adding seasoning. By the time he threw it onto the hot pan, it sizzled and filled the room with the smell of rosemary and thyme.

  I finished putting together the salad and sat silently waiting for him to speak to me again. That moment never came. We ate dinner without a word and I was afraid to even compliment him on the steak. It was amazing. I wasn’t surprised, though. He was the type of man who would be gifted in whatever endeavor he decided to undertake.

  When we’d finished, he took the plates from the table and dumped them in the sink. He stood without speaking for a few moments, his head lowered as if in contemplation. The tension between us was thick and uncomfortable, but I remained in my seat feeling as if I should wait for his instruction to move.

  He had an air about him that held me in a place of submission, an aspect to his personality that commanded authority to which I was happy to release all control.

  “I’m going to take you back to your room now, Pet. I want you to get a shower and get some sleep. I have more work to do this evening. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

  I hated that I’d upset him so badly. I looked forward to this time together all day and, as usual, I’d done something foolish to ruin it. My concern grew that as soon as I was fully healed, he’d tell me to leave, no longer caring that a man was trying to kill me once the evidence of that man’s abuse had faded from my skin.

  After he walked me to the room, I sat on the bed and looked up at him. There was no emotion in his expression, no hint of the thoughts that raced through his head. I felt alone in the room even though he stood looking at me.

  Without speaking he moved through the door, shutting it and throwing the lock into place.

  One would think the metallic sound should bother me.

  But for some odd reason, it didn’t.

  Chapter Twelve

  Donovan Blake

  Portland, Oregon

  “Her name is Veronica Lapierre.”

  Placing the coffee cups on the table, the haggard waitress reached up to push her feathered bangs out of her eyes. The blue eye shadow she wore was far too thick and the makeup she used to conceal the bags beneath her eyes wasn’t working. It was obvious the woman was beat down and tired, most likely in need of a vacation or some other form of relief from her life.

  “Everybody calls her Ronnie. She hates her full name.”

  “Have you heard from her since last week, Miss…”

  “Aimee. My name’s Aimee. And no. I haven’t heard from her. I expected to because we’re friends and all, but I think she’s probably hiding out from that psycho she lives with.” She shrugged. “Or maybe she’s hiding from the cops. I saw on the news that Billy is dead. Guess he can’t hurt her anymore, so there’s really no reason for her to hide from him. Unless she doesn’t know.”

  “Did she have any friends other than the man she lived with or the staff here at the diner.”

  “Nope.” With a popping ‘P’ she gave that response before smiling. “She couldn’t go anywhere except to work. Billy controlled her like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Poor thing always came in with new bruises that she would blame on anything but the person who actually caused them. I asked her to go out a couple times, but she always turned me down. I guess Billy would’ve freaked if she wasn’t home on time.”

  There was nothing this woman was telling me that I didn’t already know.

  “Can you describe her for me? Height, weight…”

  “Ronnie was a beautiful girl. I never understood how she ended up in this hellhole. Shit, porn would be a better gig than this job.” She glanced back, her mousey brown hair bouncing over her shoulders as she checked for anybody within hearing range. “She was a smaller girl. I’d say about 5’4” maybe. She had pretty blonde hair and blue eyes. Tiny is the word I would use to describe her. I wouldn’t say she weighed more than 100 pounds at most.”

  “Thank you, Aimee. You’ve been very helpful.” Dismissing her with my tone, she took the hint without hesitation. I watched as she crossed the diner to grab an order of food and hustle it over to a waiting table.

  “So what do you think?” Emily’s voice broke through my thoughts.

  “I think we’re wasting our time here.”

  Emily chuckled. “I recall telling you that when you suggested we come here in the first place.”

  I couldn’t deny that she was right, but there was still something bothering me about the entire situation. “How big would you guess Billy was?”

  She shrugged, taking a sip from her coffee and grimacing at the acrid taste. “Couldn’t get a great look at him in the position he was in, but I would guess he had to be over six feet in height, maybe 250 pounds.”

  I was silent for a moment and she stared at me like I was insane. Maybe I was.

  “How could a small woman overpower a man of that size? Not only overpower him, but hold him in place long enough to cut his throat?”

  “Adrenaline can do amazing things for the body. It can cause superhuman strength in rare cases, or overpower a person entirely so that they pass out.” She looked at me like a doctor would her patient…analyzing me and making me uncomfortable in my spot. I liked that she could do that to me. She set me on edge; sparked life in a part of me that I thought had long dulled and died. “I think you’re seeing too much into this¸ Donovan. There’s no connection between this missing girl and the case we’re here to solve. It’s a waste of time and effort. I only went along with you tonight because I thought you needed to play this out and move past it. I know you can’t resist a puzzle, but this piece doesn’t fit into the larger one we’re putting together.”

  She was right. Choosing to drop the subject, I asked, “Where are we meeting the team tonight?”

  “Our hotel. They have a suite set up to act as a satellite office. We’ll have access to everything we’ll need from there.”

  Nodding, I glanced out the window. A man was approaching the restaurant. He was dressed well in a suit that fit him like it had been tailored. The shine of his shoes was pronounced against the filthy street. I was impressed by his stride, long and assured.

  “Does that man seem out of place to you?”

  Emily glanced out the window and back to me. “He looks normal enough. Why?”

  “Look at the way he’s dressed. He appears polished, the type of man that spends his time throwing money around to prove his accomplishments. Why would he be eating at a dive restaurant?”

  The bell above the door rang out as he entered. Without waiting to be seated, he moved through the cramped interior, heading into the bathroom.

  “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be back in a second. If the waitress returns, you know my usual order.”
r />   Emily’s forehead wrinkled with disbelief and suspicion. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Ignoring her quip, I crossed the room, throwing open the bathroom door and selecting a urinal next to the well-dressed man.

  “Evening.”

  He didn’t turn to look at me, instead choosing to nod in response.

  “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

  “Are you making an observation or trying to pick me up?” Shaking off, he zipped himself back in his pants and moved to the sink.

  I didn’t like him, my hackles rising to be near him. Something wasn’t right.

  Choosing not to respond, I finished, taking the sink next to him to wash up. He didn’t look at me or say another word as he dried his hands and exited the room.

  When I returned to the table, Emily eyed me. Sitting down, I noticed the man had selected the table directly behind her, his weary eyes glancing up at me just before the waitress reached his table.

  “What are you having tonight?”

  Drumming his fingers on the table, he looked out the window when he answered, “Same as usual. Omelet, no cheddar, whole wheat toast, cut diagonally and butter on the side.”

  She walked away without him ever having looked in her direction.

  Based on his response, I assumed he was a regular.

  Before I had the chance to speak, Emily complained, “What’s taking our food so long? We have a half hour to be at the hotel.”

  I continued to eye the man. He never looked up at me even though I could tell by the tension in his body that he was aware I was watching him.

  “Why don’t you just tell the waitress we’ll take the food to go?”

  Emily pulled her napkin from her lap, tossing it on the table as she stood. “It’s probably best. The team is restless and for all we know CK is out there killing another woman as we speak.”

  Her heels clicked as she walked away and when I glanced back at the man, he was staring right at me.

  ***

  “What more do we know with these last two bodies?”

  Agent Reynolds glanced up at the pictures before answering my question. “The mode of death is the same, but not exact. He slit one girl’s throat from ear to ear. The other cut was nothing more than a slight nick of the carotid. The way he removed the nipples is different as well. These aren’t ritual killings.”

  “Why a knife instead of gun?” I knew the answers to most of these questions, but I wanted to allow the team to formulate their own ideas.

  Agent Cartwright answered this time. “Less noise and more personal. It’s a slower death.”

  “What does that tell you?” Pacing in front of the task board, I wrapped my hands together behind my back. My focus was on the walls and door in the room, but in my mind’s eye I attempted to visualize the crime.

  “That he might be killing them in a public place. A bathroom at a park or some other place where he’s out of sight but still within hearing range of other people. To be honest, I don’t think that’s the case though.”

  Stopping in my tracks, I looked at Agent Ward. “Have we heard back from the labs? Were they able to find DNA on either of the bodies besides the victims’?”

  He shook his head with a grimace brandishing his face. “No. Nail scrapes, hair combs and vaginal swabs came up clean.”

  Smiling, I asked, “Does anybody else find that to be odd?”

  “The body was cleaned.” Emily finally comments. “It had to be. The victim was a prostitute. You would expect something on her…”

  “Unless it was her first client of the night.” Reynolds interjects.

  Rubbing my chin between my thumb and finger, I considered everything the team was saying.

  “Reynolds. I want you to canvass the neighborhood tomorrow where the last two victims were known to work. You have a way with people. Get in there, gain their trust and get them talking.”

  At 5’10”, Reynolds didn’t appear threatening. He never dressed in a suit and his hair hung down to his shoulders, making him appear less official. He looked up at me with friendly brown eyes and smiled in such a way that dimples indented his cheeks. “On it.”

  After some thought, I added, “Also, Reynolds, while you’re down there, a murder took place in one of the houses about a week ago. I want you to see if anybody can tell you about the man who was killed or his girlfriend, Veronica Lapierre. She’s been missing since the incident.

  “Agent Blake, I don’t think that’s a valuable use of Agent Reynold’s time,” Emily objected.

  My eyes shot to hers. “I’ll make that decision, Agent Chase.” There was no leeway in my voice for her to argue again. “A 250 pound man supposedly had his throat cut by a woman who, at most, weighs 100 pounds. Overpowering him alone is an incredible feat, but to also cut his throat? It’s doubtful. Considering the manner of death matches our perpetrator’s MO, I’d like to have it investigated fully.”

  Emily’s mouth pursed in objection, but she held her tongue.

  “Cartwright and Ward, I want you to speak with the Portland PD tomorrow regarding their search for Veronica Lapierre and obtain any information you can regarding DNA found at the scene of her boyfriend’s murder. I want everything. Witness statements, evidence, hair samples, fingerprints…whatever they have.”

  The men nodded. Looking at the rest of the team, I instructed, “The rest of you need to be at the dump site tomorrow. I want the grounds scoured. Gum, cigarette butts, animal feces, I don’t fucking care. If you find something that is not connected to the ground, I want it. I don’t trust the local authorities to have located everything.”

  Returning my attention to the board, I fixated on the lifeless faces of the victims. “That’s all I need tonight. Everyone get a good night’s sleep and we’ll reconvene tomorrow late afternoon.”

  As the men stood and gathered their belongings, I called out, “Agent Chase. Please remain in the room. I have something I need to discuss with you.”

  “Ooooh! Looks like someone is in trouble with the boss. Off to the principal’s office with you, Chase!”

  I ignored the men’s razzing and waited patiently for them to exit the room. Once Agent Chase and I were alone, I forced myself to look away from the task board and turn to her.

  She leaned against one of the tables, her sharp brown eyes burning into me with heat. “Am I in trouble, boss?”

  “What the hell was that, Chase? Don’t you dare question me in front of the team again.” Stepping forward, I stopped within arm’s reach. The palm of my hand brushed up her arm and shoulder, finally settling against her throat. Her eyes widened when I applied slight pressure.

  My other hand slid up her skirt, my fingers brushing over the end of her stockings and over the clasps of the garter that held them in place. “I think your misconduct cannot go without reprimand. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Forcing my hand up farther, I closed my eyes at the sensation of my cock swelling with need. My fingers brushed over her silk panties and I smiled to find them wet.

  Emily grinned, something mischievous and wicked. Her lips parted and her throat moved against the palm of my hand. “I agree, boss. I’m not sure I can learn my lesson without being punished.”

  Sliding her panties aside, I slipped one finger into the wet heat of her body. She moaned and I squeezed my other hand around her throat tighter. Stepping between her legs, I continued pumping my finger in and out, curling the tip so that it dragged across the sensitive spot inside her. My thumb moved over her clit and she moaned louder upon contact.

  I squeezed even tighter and her eyes flashed with need.

  “I don’t want to hear a word out of you, bitch. You understand me?”

  She nodded as she gasped for air and I removed my hand from her throat, quickly ripping open her blouse and unclasping the front of her bra. Her breasts bounced free and I mouthed one, allowing my tongue to circle the taut nipple. Her head fell back and her hips bucked forward begging for more than what my finger c
ould give her.

  Taking my time, I teased her, bringing her close to the edge of her release, but then slowing down again. She complained with small mewls and groans. I bit down on her tit, battling the images in my head of what CK had done to his own victims.

  I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that thinking of his crimes somehow made my dick grow harder.

  Pulling away from Emily, I stepped back and ordered, “Strip down to everything but your heels, stockings and garter. When you’re done doing that…” I moved around the table, taking a seat in the chair. “…You’re going to remove my cock from my pants and get on your knees to relieve me of the pain you’ve caused.”

  She smiled as she stepped in front of me, moving seductively as she removed her shirt, bra, skirt and panties. I nodded my head at her and she smiled again, reaching up to let her hair fall free from the tight knot. Once her brown hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, I hissed out a breath, nodding again to let her know she pleased me.

  Dropping to her knees, she crawled on all fours in my direction, holding eye contact as she undid my belt and pants and pulled my cock free. Her eyes never left mine as she slipped the tip of my cock in her mouth, humming as she took it in until the tip met her throat.

  My hips bucked up and she worked her mouth along the shaft, licking and sucking me off faster than I liked. I watched her as I reached out to take her hair in my hand and pulled her away.

  She looked at me in question.

  “Bend over the table. I feel like riding you from behind tonight.”

  Licking her lips, she stood up, bending herself over the wood surface, reaching out to grab on to the opposite edge. She looked back at me, needy and ready for what I would do to her.

  When I was behind her, I grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back as my lips traced kisses along her spine. After pushing one thumb in her ass, I circled it until her hips were moving in time with the rotations. Fuck, she was ready.

  Removing my thumb, I grabbed my cock, placing the head at the opening of her cunt before forcing myself inside. She moaned. My thrusts were hard and hurried, pushing both of our bodies to a peak of ecstasy that helped relieve us both of the stress and pressure of our jobs.