by Sheri Lyn
“Oh for fuck's sake, you two. Knock it off and be serious.” Walker demanded in a half yell. “We don’t have time for games.”
“No offense, Sir, but what do you want us to do? We’re waiting on the lab to process the clothes, blanket, and all the stuff from the dumpster, the letter is being tested for fingerprints. We’re kicking over every rock we can find.”
Walker sighed, “I know Remington, I’m sorry. I’ve been on the phone all morning getting my ass chewed out. I’m frustrated as hell; the reporters are hounding us too. They’ve already dubbed him the Professor. The fucking Professor for god's sake. This is already wracking up to be one hell of a shit storm.”
“This letter is postmarked yesterday from Mississippi; we’ll track it down. He mailed it in a sealed envelope with a stamp. That means there could be DNA and fingerprints.” Remi grinned, they may have just found their first break.
“Fine, get someone on it and find me some goddamn answers, and be prepared we have a press conference in an hour. Make sure you’re presentable and ready for this. And for the love of all that is holy, behave. That goes for both of you.”
As soon as they exited the Chief’s office, Knox grabbed Remi’s arm to stop him and nodded off to the side where Skaggs was standing staring at the ground absently. “Go talk to your friend. I’ll check in about the covens at your desk.”
Remi scowled and headed off to his friend. In all the years they’d known each other he’d never seen his friend look like this. The cocky, self-confident doctor was nowhere to be seen.
“Skaggs?”
“Hey Remi,” He paused and glanced around and nodded, “I... ah…. Shit, why is this so hard?”
“Not sure, honestly. Since I have no idea what’s happening right now.”
The doctor huffed out a small laugh, “yeah, look I know you two are a thing. I just wanted to ask…”
“We’re not a thing,” Remi interjected quickly.
Skaggs rolled his eyes, “Maybe not yet, but you will be, and that’s cool. I like him; I think he’ll be good for you. Smooth out some of those rough edges of yours.” He hesitated and smiled sadly, “I just wanted to make sure we were good. I know what we had was just physical, but I still consider you one of my closest friends. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Why the fuck would that change?” Remi growled and glanced over his shoulder to find Knox. “Hey, get over here.” He called roughly.
Knox cocked one eyebrow, set his phone down and moved to stand beside him. “You bellowed.”
“This idiot is afraid something has changed, and we’re not friends. Would you know anything about why he’d think something so asinine?”
Skaggs grunted in annoyance, “Asshole.”
“What’s your first name, doc? I don’t want to call our friends by their last name all the time. It gets weird, you know.” Knox winked at Remi and extended his hand to the other man. “No matter what, I’m not coming in between you two. I’d like to be your friend as well. You two care about each other, I get that. I love that actually. It’s nice to know someone was watching over my boy here until I arrived.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake. This isn’t happening.” Remi stormed off leaving an amused Skaggs to deal with Knox.
“I like him,” Skaggs called out to his retreating back.
“Detective Conahan, we got a hit on your fingerprints from IAFIS, they belong to a Caroline Mathers. No charges, but she was picked up as a teenager and fingerprinted. That was in Nebraska; it doesn’t say what she was picked up for though.”
Remi turned and thanked the officer before grabbing the paper and scanning it for himself. She was twenty-seven years old. Where had she been from when she was picked up as a teen and now? Was she new to the trade or had she just never been picked up by vice? That seemed odd; something wasn’t adding up.
He turned and headed to vice to check in again. With luck, he’d get some answers to who she was before the press conference. He walked into vice lost in his head as he tried to piece together the little bit of information he had.
“Hey Conahan, what brings you to our hell hole?”
Remi glanced up and smiled, “Hey Bas, how’s shit treating you and where the hell have you been. I haven't seen you around in awhile.”
“Undercover just got back. What can I do for you?”
“I left a pic here yesterday; a prostitute was dumped in an alley. I was hoping one of you guys might know who she is or where she patrolled.”
Bas grunted and began shuffling papers around on the desk he was sitting at, “I saw a picture here, but I didn’t really pay it any attention. Hold on.” A couple of seconds later Bas held the picture up with a grin, “Oh, yeah this is Chastity. She’s special. She somehow always escapes our stings, but we know she works the streets. It’s actually quite impressive.
“What can you tell me about her?”
“Not much to be honest, she’s been working around here for the better part of the last ten years. She had a run-in with drugs but cleaned herself up quick. She doesn’t have a pimp; she works for herself. Everyone likes her. Somebody killed her, you said?”
Remi scowled, “Brutally. We’ve got a press conference shortly about it as a matter of fact.
Bas frowned, “No offense but she was a hooker, why the dog and pony show?”
“You must have been under a rock. Killer left a note; he’s going to strike again. It got leaked to the media.”
“Well, fuck. Let me check with some of my contacts on the street, and I’ll get back to you. Maybe I can find out something for you. They may not talk to cops, but they’ll talk to us most of the time.”
“Appreciate that.”
Remi headed back to his desk and ran the name Caroline Mathers through every search he could. Twenty minutes later all he knew that he hadn’t before, was that she was not married and she had no living relatives on file.
“Babe,” Knox whispered by Remi’s ear making him jump. “It’s time for the conference. You ready?”
“Fuck no, I hate these things. They’re like scavengers, fighting to pick off the last bits of my humanity until I want to throw something at them.”
Knox bit back a laugh, “Why don’t you let me do the talking today. I got this; you just stand there and look sexy.”
They walked out to the front doors and stopped beside Walker. “What’s the plan?” Remi questioned as he glanced out to the sea of reporters.
“You keep your damn cool out there. Don’t let them rile you up for once. We’ll give them as little as we can. Without knowing how much of the letter was leaked, we have to be careful.”
“We just identified the victim.” Remi held out a sheet of paper with the pertinent facts on it.
“I’ll announce that if you want.” Knox offered with a wink. “Let’s keep Remi from talking to them if possible.”
Walker smirked, “I like him; he’s good for you, Conahan.”
“Not you too,” Remi grumbled with an eye roll. “Let’s just get this over with. So the nutjobs can start their calls and ruin my day.”
The press conference started out successfully. Chief Walker introduced them all and told the basics of the case. A body had been discovered, she was a known prostitute and she had been identified. They were searching for the killer and if anyone had seen anything around the time of the incident to please report it. Knox went next, he introduced himself only as Agent Knox Grayson and explained the few facts they knew about the woman, her name, street name and that she had no living relatives they could find. He also urged anyone with any information to call.
That’s when all hell broke loose. The reporters started calling out questions and shouting things. Remi could feel his temper fraying as he heard some of them. How in the hell where they getting their information?
Knox held up one hand, “Ladies and Gentleman, I’ll answer questions if I can, but please one at a time. We're civilized adults; let’s act like it if you please.”
Remi s
mirked at the dig and watched as he pointed to a reporter.
“Suzanna from the Herald, can you confirm that you’ve not only received a note with her body but that a second one has been delivered from the same guy.”
“You’ve all already written about a letter; that’s why you’re here.” Knox reminded the reporter. “But I won’t confirm or deny the existence of any additional letters.” He pointed to a man and gestured for him to ask his question.
“James from Channel Eight. Can you confirm that the Professor claims to be planning more murders and what are you doing to stop him before he does kill again?”
Remi ground his teeth at that stupid question. What in the hell did they think they’d been doing. Sitting around with their thumbs up their asses?
“I really can’t even begin to think I know what his plans are. I can tell you we are doing everything we can to catch him as quickly as possible. Hence, the reason we’re asking for the public's help with any information they have about our victim, her whereabouts prior to the murder and anything they saw around her or the alley where she was found.”
Remi tuned out the reporter's questions and Knox’s answers as he surveyed the crowd and tried to keep his patience. They just kept asking the same questions over and over in different ways. His attention was caught again when one young woman in the back of the room asked her question.
“There are rumors that The Professor has become fixated with Detective Conahan and you by association, is that true?”
Knox cocked his head and glanced to Remi, “Ma’am what’s your name and who are you with?”
“Jasmine, I write a crime blog.”
“I’m not sure where you got your information, but at no time has anyone said anything of that nature. Detective Conahan was randomly assigned the case, as was I. We’re doing everything in our power to catch him and put a stop to him though.”
Knox stepped back and moved to stand beside Remi, “Fucking hell, they are brutal as shit. How did they get so much information?”
“We need to put a tighter seal on all information from now on. This is ridiculous; no way should they know about the second letter.”
They turned to head back inside as soon as the Captain finished speaking and giving out the hotline they’d set up.
“This part sucks. We’re getting ready to be inundated with calls from well-meaning citizens that tell us jack shit.”
“Make it through this, and I’ll make it worthwhile for you when we get home tonite.”
“Oh come on,” Walker announced from behind them. “I’d tell you two to get a room, but since that’s what you want, I’ll just say get your asses to work and stop flirting on my time.”
Remi groaned, threw his hands up and stormed off muttering.
Seven
The Professor
He had never been one to require a lot of sleep, and it worked to his advantage now. After his last research project ended, he found a cheap motel and crashed for a few hours. He slept better than he ever had before, who knew killing would be such a stress reliever? He woke up early and headed back to Alabama to check in on his favorite cop and see how the romance was going. Maybe with any luck, he could get close enough to look him in the eye. He smiled at the thought, yeah it would be cool to walk right by him, make eye contact and Remington Conahan would have no idea.
He parked in the visitor parking lot outside the police station again and leaned back to watch for the sweet couple. He couldn’t help smirk at the thought, who knew taunting the police would be so much fun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull in the parking lot, and moments later Detective Conahan and the suit got out. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but he imagined it was a bit of flirting, and a bit of discussion about his murder.
If only they knew about the second body, he sighed, tomorrow he decided he would let them know about her. He could imagine what they would say when they got the report on her. She was intriguing, well not her exactly but what he could do with her body…. It made his head swirl with the possibilities he had yet to explore.
While he waited for something to happen, or the detective to leave he searched for his next game. He had enough funds to last a couple of weeks, but he wanted something to occupy his time. A few minutes later he found the perfect game — high stakes, big rewards and not too far away. Wouldn’t take long to get to Louisiana and the game wasn’t until tomorrow morning anyways. Plenty of time to hang around here and maybe pick up a friend for the night. The sound of car doors slamming around him had him looking up. Reporters filed out of their cars and vans heading for the steps leading into the station. He didn’t even notice they put a podium outside, must be time for a press conference. He would wait and join the back of the crowd; he wanted to hear what they had to say but stay hidden at the same time.
About thirty minutes later, he watched as Detective Conahan and the suit walked out and took their place. He tried to avoid staring at them, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away. They stood next to each other, but not inappropriately. When it was the suit’s turn to talk, he finally learned his name. Knox and Remi… yes, he liked that. But Remington didn’t like the questions at all. Why won’t they say yes they got another letter, yes he was helping their courtship along, yes he was going to kill again.
He tried not to get bored, but the crime blogger caught his interest. Somehow she had information no one else did; he may have to use her later. Would be faster than mailing letters to the station or waiting on a body to be found. Yes, that was an intriguing idea, she could get the scoop of a lifetime, and he could get instant gratification.
When Knox was finished speaking, he watched him walk over to Remington and whisper quietly. This time they stood a bit closer than before, Remington seemed to be fighting the pull. This was going to be as much fun as the killing was, how long would they hold out?
The press conference ended and he slowly walked back to his car listening to the reporters as they chatted to themselves. The more they spoke, the higher his anger became. He was not a psychopath; why must they keep using those terms. He was shaking by the time he got to his car and had to take some deep breaths before he could even attempt to drive his car. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel, in his head, he pictured himself starting the car and running them all over a few times. Fucking vultures.
He calmly pulled out of the parking lot, glared at anyone who glanced into the car at him. The last thing he wanted was to get pulled over outside the police station. He drove down the road and pulled into a strip mall parking lot. First, he ran into the gas station on the end and picked up a burner phone, one of those pay as you go things. He nonchalantly walked out to his car and drove to the other end of the lot.
The more he thought about the press conference, the more he wanted to TALK to Detective Remington. They had given out the number, he could call. Keep it short, and they can’t trace it right? He hesitated a few more minutes, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel, staring off into space.
With a sneer on his face, he picked up his phone and dialed the number he committed to memory. It was fate, he normally couldn’t recall shit, but that number was burned into his mind. Yes, fate was what it was.
He waited until a voice came on, the voice prattled off random shit, and he tuned them out. As soon as the words stopped flowing, he started his conversation. “My name is Professor; I would like to speak with Detective Remington Conahan and his love interest Agent Knox Grayson. To prove who I am, my fingers are still bruised from attempting to shove them into the whore's belly. Now pass the phone like a good little boy.” He leaned back in the seat and smiled; the rookie was probably shitting his pants. Rushing across the room to get Detective Conahan's attention and make him believe this was the call he had to take. He started to get impatient, shaking his leg and tapping his other hand on his thigh. How long does it take to grab the man and get on the phone? With an impatient sigh, he hung up. He would give them
a minute and call back. He wasn’t taking the chance they could track him down.
He pulled out of the parking space and looked around, no sirens heading his way, so they hadn’t tracked him yet. To be safe, he drove a bit farther away and pulled into a motel parking lot, into a space facing the road so he could see if anyone headed his direction. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat. Okay, Detective, this is your second chance, you better pick up the phone when I call, he thought to himself.
He dialed the number again and interrupted the voice this time. “I’m not a patient man, put Detective Conahan on right now, or the consequences will be on your head.”
“This is Detective Conahan, who am I speaking with?”
“Come now Detective; you know who this is.”
“I know you claim to be The Professor, but how do I know it’s really you and not so quack job looking for his fifteen minutes of fame?”
“I appreciate you not calling me the quack job. Would it help to remind you how bruised my fingers are? Or I could tell you how hard it was pushing my fingers into her belly. Her red top slightly pushed above her belly, my note tucked into her bra.”
Remi sighed, “You’re not a quack job; you’re so much worse. Why are you calling me? What do you want?”
He laughed into the phone “Be nice Detective; I might think you don’t like me. Can’t we be friends, I really only want to help you bag the suit you are waltzing around with.”
“I’m sorry I’m not friends with psychopaths, and I don’t need your interference in my life. If you want to help, turn yourself in and stop killing an innocent woman.”
“Tsk tsk Detective, it’s not your life I’m interested in but your romance. Why would I turn myself in? I’m not done yet. And these women are far from innocent.” He shook his head in annoyance, why must everyone call him that name. Don’t they know he hated the word with a passion?
“So, do you hate women in general or just the prostitutes who you have to pay to be with you?”