by Mitch Goth
During another long, monotonous morning at the office, a distraught Kellen sat behind her desk, fingers tangled in her unruly brown locks. It was all falling apart all over again. For a second, nothing more than a fleeting moment, every gear was in motion. It seemed like she was on the road to catching this guy before anything else happened. Then it all stopped. Just as suddenly as it started. All those well-oiled gears came to an abrupt stop and had stayed stationary ever since.
Like all the other days since then, she sat in front of her computer, trying to piece it all together. She needed to fix it all up. She needed to get those mechanics turning again. A young girl's life was in the balance, and the hourglass was pouring its sand all the while she sat. And all Kellen could do was sit and watch it now, wait for the knife to come down when the last grain of salt passed through the threshold of Megan Mickelson's hourglass.
The day had just started, but it felt like a full week had gone by. All the time spent just sitting at her desk, staring into the few clues that they had, trying to bring something useful out of it, something new that they could use. But no matter how long she sat, no matter how numb she got sitting in that desk chair, nothing ever came to her. It was all just the same stuff. They'd dug every bit of information possible out of it.
"Kellen, goddamn it!" Don boomed as he entered the room. "My office, right now!" Don trudged passed her and into his quarters.
"Shit." She grumbled to herself as she lifted her limp body up and shuffled her way to the office, eyes to the floor.
What did he have to say now? Did this Megan girl die already? Was that all there was? Did another life disappear while Kellen sat helpless at her desk? So many questions filled her mind, but at that point she wanted no answers.
"You are not gonna believe this." Don groaned, sitting down behind his desk as she entered. She went to sit across from him but he held up a hand to stop her. "Don't sit, you won't be here long."
"Megan's dead, isn't she?" Kellen figured.
"No, worse."
"Another disappearance?" Kellen found that odd. It wouldn't fit this killer to take more than one at a time.
"Worse."
Kellen was out of ideas. It had to be about this RV killer, it just had to be. So what was it? What was worse than what was in her mind? She looked to her boss, who let out a long sigh. What he was about to tell her was painful to him, which bolstered fear into her soul.
"Grazer got furlough," he said lowly.
Kellen's world stopped shifting. Her heart raced. She felt sweat accumulating on her brow. It couldn't possibly have been real.
"How? When?" Kellen couldn't speak fast enough. There was no time in the world for her to do anything anymore. It was fast forward and there was no possible way to keep up with it all.
"He got his old prosecutor to do it up for him a two days ago. It just got passed through the governor today. He's heading out the doors of that prison in a few hours."
"Carlton." Kellen growled. He was the last person she would expect to be helping out Ezra in any way. "How could this happen? How did the governor of any place, much less Texas, think this was okay?"
"It's happening on one condition. If Grazer can't find this girl before she dies, the state will find him liable for her death, and he'll have another go at getting the needle for it."
"Jesus Christ," Kellen couldn't fight herself anymore. Despite her boss's instruction, she tumbled back into the chair across the desk, floundering in disbelief. "What the hell happens now? He's got over a week before she dies. Are they just gonna let this fucking serial killer loose for that long?"
"No, he'll have an escort."
"Who?" Kellen inquired. "No." She shook her head, the answer coming to her head. "Don, you can't do this."
"I'm not doing it, the state of Texas is. Ezra asked for you as an escort, so that's what's gonna happen. They want this girl back alive, Kellen. No matter what."
"This is a nightmare," Kellen muttered. "This is a fever dream. I'm back at my desk with a case of avian flu or something. None of this is real. This is just my brain shutting down from stress. That's all it is."
"This is real, Kellen." Don raised his voice to snap her out of it. "There's a private plane waiting for you at the airport courtesy of the governor. I want you on it ASAP. Don't put up a fight against this. This is happening, and the more time you waste, the less time Mickelson has. Got it?"
Kellen's mind took over. She still wasn't quite convinced any of this was real. But she looked around and it all seemed solid, all seemed legitimate. Still, what was she supposed to do with him? Where were they supposed to go? She had a hard enough time encountering killers they had captured and put away. What on earth was she supposed to do with a killer let loose by the government, that she needed to watch? It was worse than babysitting. At least if she left a child alone they would only eat paste and draw on the walls. If she slipped up, Ezra Grazer could take another life, and it would be on her. She tried convincing herself further that it was all just a horrid dream.
"Got it?" her boss repeated, louder this time.
"Yeah, yeah." She nodded. "I got it."
"Get going. If you need anything, call me." He said as she left his office.
Kellen knew who to call, but it would not be Don, not by a long shot. She gathered some things from her desk and thought over what she needed from her apartment before heading to the airport. As she walked out of the office, she pulled out her phone and looked at the contact for Remi. It was at the ready and once she had a free moment to think and talk with her, that would be the first person she would call. This was a real life nightmare, and there was no waking up.
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