Serial Killer Strikes Again

[Tseranc]

It had taken only 45 minutes for the pizza to arrive, and less then that for half of it to be consumed. Nothing, not one damned new idea, angle or suspicion could had been drawn in his time spent sitting in a conference room. No calls from the others on this rag tag task force to inform him of new information. No calls from the Chicago office to hand over any more details from previous murders.

Nothing. And lots of it.

He rose from his seat, his legs and back stiff from sitting for far too long, and grabbed his ugly sport coat, and the box containing the uneaten half of his double pepperoni, olives, mushrooms and extra cheese pizza. He tapped a cigarette out of its pack and grabbed it with his lips. He’d light it it just steps away from the door, just to piss off the desk jockey again.

It worked, he pretended to ignore the shouts and curses from the sergeant behind the desk, but truly he was chuckling as he made his way to the car. A quick internet search from an unlocked workstation of some officer or another had shown a rather cheep motel just down the road from the station. He drove there and noticed it was about as run down and abused as he imagined, but it was still cheep.

In the tiny smoke stained room Bruce woods piled his luggage in the corner, kicked off his shoes and stripped down to just his undershirt, unbuttoned slacks and boxers. Flopping on the bed with the pizza box, he turned the TV on and searched for something to bore him to sleep.

 

[poohlive]

By the time Trevor made his way inside, he was already in a better mood. After speaking with an ex, and humilating her in front of all her friends, one could only feel elation. He came through the door with so much conviction that after he closed the door behind him, he even forgot where he was going.

The dispatcher at the front desk gave him an odd look, and then said in a pleasent voice, "May I help you?"

Trevor stopped, blinking. Had he forgotten why he was here, and what he was doing? He would be in a world of trouble if he lost himself now, lost everything with him.

Unfortunately he pulled out one of his badges, showing his picture and a small Xerox logo on it.

"Here to fix the copier."

"Ahh," the man looked down on a sheet. And saw there was indeed a call placed in for someone to fix the copier. And, of course there would be. He had a guy on his pay role, and was able to do things inside the police station. Not big things. He couldn't grab evidence or wipe away documents...

But he could erase parking tickets, and allow him to get inside from time to time.

The office where they kept all of the serial killer files was locked. They weren't with the regular open files, but their own conference room.

He ran through his ring of keys, finding the right one. He was humming to himself as he did it.

This should have been a super secretive operation involving the minor influences of breaking and entering that made it an art form. He had a badge on with his name and a picture of himelf, humming as he grabbed file after file, taking it to the Xerox machine and making copies.

It took him all of an hour, and he had a whole box of files to play with by the time he was done. Everything from pictures to eye witnesses, some theories and parts of investigations that have turned up leads, or led to dead ends.

There were no leads though, and even less theories. All they had was a bunch of dead bodies and even more questions.

All the files went back into the room, in a similiar place that he had left them. He locked the door once more, nodding at himself. Now, that was the crime of the century.

He put all the files in a Xerox box, and walked out to the front.

"Things are fine now," He nodded to the box, "Some excess paper, got ink spilled all over it. I'll take it back to the company, reimburse you."

"Oh... ok," The desk man nodded, signed him out, and then went back to work... Trevor was pretty sure he was playing poker online. Well, good luck to him.

What a day. Autopsy reports, police files and enough pictures to make even the hardest of men sick to their stomache.

He drove back to his hotel.

 

[jushorny]

Deb & Brian with Officer Smith

While Officer Smith checks the place out Brian sits with Deb trying to comfort and calm her. Brian tries his best to keep his head focused on Deb but thoughts of Angelica continue to push to the forefront. He knew she could be cold and vindictive but surely she would never go this far, would she? Deep in his heart he knew he still loved Angelica, it was the way she connived to get what she wanted that had turned him away. He pushed those thought deep down in his brain knowing he would never give the police any indication that he believed she could be behind this.

Luckily for Brian, Deb was the perfect one to help steer the police in a different direction. Her hatred for Marc was as strong as his love for Angelica. Brian tired to quiet Deb telling her she couldn’t let the officer know she thought Marc was behind all of this. He continued speaking quietly hoping his soft voice would somehow lower hers. You have no basis to know that Marc did this, no evidence. Secretly, he hoped the Officer would over hear their conversation.

“Its true,” Deb said, “He can be very ruthless, there are stories I could tell you that you wouldn’t believe. Did you know he spent time in prison?”

It was, of course, that statement that brought Officer Smith back into the kitchen. He immediately began questioning Deb about this guy she called Marc. Deb was only too happy to provide answers to his questions. She went on describing her relationship with Marc Jordan, how it all started very innocently, how he seemed like the perfect gentleman at first. How Marc had become quite jealous when he found her with another man. Deb even described, in a way that would favor her of course, the spectacle he made at the restaurant earlier that very evening. How her called her a hoe and a slut.

 

[Babette_____]

Angelica = January 4th, 2006

Angelica awoke with the sun and her thoughts not on work. She had the day off and she was thrilled. Already she was planning her day in her head. She’d head out to her parents’, clean up a few things, the order for the tarp was coming in and she knew that she’d have to shovel the snow from the drive, so it looked like the place looked lived in.

She slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight black sweater. Next, she combed out her long curls and settled behind the wheel of her car. As she drove out of the city, she thought perhaps it was time to change things. She’d left a lot of evidence at that last crime scene. . .well not a lot, just a boot print, but realistically a lot could be found out from that.

Her sight was on the greater picture. Perhaps she should lay low, maybe take a little vacation somewhere for the next week or so. She’d done a lot of damage at Deb the hoe and Brian the ass’ place too. That wasn’t smart, but she figured, they both deserved it. Actually they both deserved a lot of things. Plus with a vacation it would look like she was away when the bastard and bitch disappeared.

Her mind began to weave the plans of her mini-vacation inside her head. She wondered how the little reporter with the pictures were making out, not to mention the poem. She smiled happily to herself as she worked her way closer to her mom and dad’s and further into a world that only existed for her when she was there on their farm.

Once she arrived, it wasn’t long before she had her parents out of the shed and in the kitchen helping her prepare a nice home cooked meal. “Just think mom and dad. . .it can be like it used to, but you know. . .I may need a friend to keep me company.”

Angelica could feel the need inside her increase and she truly wanted to feed it. Besides there were a few people on her list, ones that were never found by the police, they were just another face in a mass of missing people. She thought of the young married couple who mysteriously disappeared two years ago. The man had been a great fuck, while his little wife, just lay there gagged and bound, taking it all in as her blood slowly trickled from her body.

 

[poohlive]

He read the book, Inside the Mind of a Killer as he read the police file. The book was filled with details, tidbits, ways that real F.B.I. invesitgators caught killers, how they tried to figure out the demented mind of a serial killer, and then predicted his movements, why he did what he did.

A crime scene, no matter how insignificant and stupid, was filled with clues about the serial killer and what they wanted to share with the police, or more importantly what they didn't want.

And these victims of Daddy's Little girl, they were all high priority places. All places where the body would be found easily, within hours. The bar and grill, the...

"But the warf?"

That didn't make sense. No one goes out to the warf during the winter. It would have been dead. Had his little border jumping buddies not come across it before the snow covered it up, they wouldn't have found this one until spring.

"But even then," He said, speaking aloud, it was better to think when he spoke it, and could hear himself, "It is a high priority in the spring. Once the snow melted, tons of people would be out at the warf, and all it would take is one guy to go take out the trash and realize."

So, she didn't want this lact victim to be found, not yet. She wanted him to be found in the spring. Why was that? What sort of game was she playing?

"Like Buffalo Bill," The Silence of the Lambs. Buffalo Bill weighed down his first victim so they wouldn't find it, and then began dumping his other ones later, so it would look like a random pattern.

This wasn't her first victim though, so why did she want to hide the body? Is she taking a break? Does she want to calm down though?

No, he read in the Killer book, most serial killers once they get their rhythm down they move fast and faster, they get sloppy, the need to kill drives them ever onward. She couldn't be taking a break.

It must be something though, he wrote it down on a piece of paper, along with several other notes he had. All of them important.

1. Check local porn shops. She might be a dirty girl.
2. She takes time to fuck them, and to kill them. She needs a place, by herself, with no one else around, farm, cabin? boat? Something isolated.
3. Why hide the fourth body? It deviates from her pattern. Is she getting sloppy, or taking a break?

He went to another page when a manila envelope dropped to the floor. It was still closed, and addressed to Michael Hallenbeck. Someone must have slipped it in here, hoping he would read it, seeing as how he was the lead investigator and all. It was still closed, so he must not have.

Oh, shit, speaking of which, Trevor took out his cell phone, and pushed Ivy's number. It got her voicemail.

"This is Trevor," He said, opening up the envelope, "I got the information you want. Tell me when you are free, we can make an exchange."

Inside was a piece of paper:

Bodies shake
as the marks of love roll over them.

Oh the beauty.
Their beauty.
My beauty.

To see them quivering
begging, pleading for more...

What?

Not more...

They want it to end.
To stop the pain.
Oh all right...

I'll end it.
I'll stop your pain.

Good night Daddy
Good night Mommy
Sweet Dreams


He read it twie before his mind even registered what it meant.

"Oh you fucking bitch."

Who did that? Who did that? He pulled open the book, looking desperately for the pages, the chapters. They did this, serial killers taunted the cops, they used notes, poems, little things... Where in the hell was it?

Here, The Zodiac Killer. He wrote to the police. Jack the Ripper wrote to newspapers, and the Son of Sam gave littles notes as well.

Of them, only Sam was caught, and that wasn't any good detective work, it was from a stupid parking ticket mistake, nothing more.

The rest of them got away, hell the Zodiac killer could still be alive, working his magic somewhere else.

"Daddy's little girl, who are you?" He stared at the note, it came from her, straight from her. This was evidence, this was fucking new line evidence straight from the horse's mouth. She was talking directly to him... because no one else was listening. The cops were out pretending to solve this case, the rest of the world was going mad with fear.

He was the only one here with her, the only one who understood.

It was like the footprint, the boot in the snow that could only have been made by her. He was following her footsteps once more, covering up information with her, playing with her, dancing with her.

He had to read more, he had to find out everything.

Trevor set the poem aside and continued.

 

[jushorny]

Marc & Samantha

Morning came much quicker than I had hoped. The sun was just beginning to show when I turned and saw Samantha’s relaxed peaceful face laying in my arms. I slid myself out from under her warmth, gave her a kiss on the forehead and headed to the bathroom. I knew Sam could sleep awhile longer before needing to get ready for the Library. I showered and shaved so that she could have use of the bathroom, wondering how long she would want in there. Probably not long I thought to myself, her beauty does not meed much primping.

As I stood under the steamy water I thought about Sam, about how our paths had crossed, about what we had shared last night. The curves of her body, the taste of her lips, the words she spoke, all amazed me like never before. I wondered how she would react to me leaving for awhile. Would she feel I had brought her home only to toss her aside, not believing I would return? I turned the shower off, dried my body, and wrapped the towel around my waist. I knew it was time to wake Sam and I knew it was time to tell her the news.

I walked back into the bedroom seeing Sam waking on her own. Her sexy eyes slowly opening, a smile slowly appearing on her face. I laid over her warm body, returning the smile and kissing her lips passionately. I lifted my body off as we both knew there was not enough time for what we really wanted. While Sam showered and dressed, threw on my work jeans and shirt before heading to the kitchen to make coffee and toast.

She walked in wearing the same clothes as last night but no one would ever be able to tell. She looked splendid and I smiled, wondering what her library friends would have to say. As we ate, I explained to Sam that I was leaving for a few days. I told her it had been a planned trip, one to see my sister whom I had not visited in over a year. I spent even more time explaining to her that now, that we had met, I wish I could cancel the trip. I promised her I’d call while I was away and I even offered to cook her dinner my first night back.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Samantha and Marc

Samantha had awoken that morning with a warm body and a hotter kiss. She felt wonderful inside as she showered, and when she had gotten dressed. The entire time thoughts of last night played in her mind. The morning after was just as wonderful as the night before, and it wasn’t because of sex, or the lack of it, but because of the company, then he dropped the bombshell. . .The “I’m heading out of town. . .I’ll call you. . .don’t call me” line. She sat there stunned, but hid it well with a smile and a reassuring. “Sure. . I look forward to hearing from you.”

In the meantime inside she felt like the stupid prom date who gets fucked by the quarterback, and finds out it was all for a bet. They agreed to dinner and inside she promised to make sure she was busy that night and to put the handsome man out of her mind. They parted ways and Samantha hurried off to work, refusing to let the first tear drop fall, because she knew there would be more.

He had kissed her goodbye. . .that thought did continue to run through her head. She saw herself in his arms, saw his body on top of hers. Felt his mouth on hers, eventually when she reached the library she was trembling.

She unlocked the building and went straight to her office where she sat down, placed her head on the desk and called herself a fool several times over and over again. It would be lunch time before she was able to make an official appearance to the patrons of the Library. She had managed to do some work between the “pity-party” she threw for herself. In the end, she looked at it with one solemn statement. . . “At least my dry spells over.”

 

[sharingfantasies]

"I wonder," Serenity thought as she turned away the fourth middle-aged, married shelving unit conventioneer, "what Emily Post would recommend as the requisite amount of time to wait for someone. Does it matter if that person is a police officer or not?"

She had been sitting there for over an hour watching the lights on the water, people watching, and glancing at her watch. She was really hungry and had she stayed home and ordered her pizza she would have been full and curled up in bed with a book. Instead, she was hungry and the waitress was refilling the water glass with huge doses of sympathy for someone that has obviously been stood up.

Staring out the window, Serenity reminded herself that Smith was a cop and not in control of his time. She could stay a bit more, he might still show up or he might not.

Either way, Serenity was going to eat now. The sound of her stomach audibly rumbling was just a bit too much embarrassment for her. The waitress approached again, "Didn't show up, Honey? The man is a loser."

Serenity sort of agreed but felt as if she should stand up for the missing dinner partner. "He is a police officer and was called onto a case at the last minute, he thought he would be able to get away, but... I guess he couldn't." Serenity grimaced as her stomach growled again. "I think I better order now though," she grinned. "Apparently my stomach has decided it wants attention now!"

A half hour later, Serenity had finished the Cobb salad, paid her bill and was on her way home. She wasn't sure if Smith was still on the case or had stood her up, but with her usual ability to push aside anything that she had no control over, she shrugged it off and slid into bed. "Now where was I in this latest thriller by Jance?" she muttered as she flipped through the pages to the last sentence she had read. Snuggling down under striped comforter, within moments, Serenity had pushed aside the rest of the real world.

Seven hours later, the alarm went off, and Serenity stretched before she began preparations for another day at work.
,

 

[Wyld52771]

"Well," Michael thought to himself, as he got back in his car, "that didn't go as well as I'd hoped. Hope Ivy isn't mad..." Looking back on the past couple hours, he couldn't exactly say they'd gone BADLY, but he doubted he'd been a very good first date...

After Ivy had given him permission to make use of her shower, he'd cleaned up and changed, still feeling somewhat awkward about his attire...a faded pair of blue jeans, and old pair of sneakers, and a t-shirt. He had kept thinking about the elegant dress she'd been wearing, and his face flushed with embarressment. Once he'd come out of the bathroom, however, he had gotten a pleasant surprise....she had went and changed into something more casual as well, probably to make him feel less self-conscious...and when he'd again apologized about his appearance and showing up early, she went out of her way to make him feel quite comfortable about what had happened, telling him not to worry about it.

They'd had a drink, and chatted about those awkward random topics that usually tend to pop up on first dates, while also testing the waters with a little light flirtation. The Chinese food arrived, she'd set the table, and they'd had a pleasant meal...the food delicious and the company even moreso.

He eventually had to bring up the business portion of why he was there...to find out how she'd come to the crime scene so quickly that morning...and it was like a steel wall suddenly dropped down between them. Sure, she had cooperated...to a point. He was pretty good at reading people...and he found he DID believe the things she told him...but he also wasn't foolish enough to believe she told him the full story. She'd said that she'd received an anonymous tip that had lead her there that morning. When Michael pressed her for more, she's balked, telling him that she didn't know more...but even if she DID, she couldn't reveal more without jeapordizing her job. he'd nodded, somewhat understanding that, although not LIKING it. After all, he had made similar statements to her in the past many times since this case had began, whenever she'd thrown a question at him.

He was about to bring up the issue with Trevor being at the crime scene, when his cell phone rang. Checking at the caller I.D. to see who it was, he looked at Ivy apologetically, and said, "I'm sorry, Ivy. I really have to take this call."

He could see the disapointment in her eyes, but she managed a playful smile, and casually gave him a dismissive wave. "It's fine, Michael. I understand...duty calls, and all that. I know I'VE done the same thing in the past chasing down a hot story," She paused, looking at him questioningly, and continued, "I'll step out of the room to give you some privacy." He'd nodded his thatnks, and once she'd left the room, he'd picked up.

"Hallenbeck here..."

Smith's voice on the other end of the line sounded nervous, almost excited. "Boss, it's Jerry. I think I have something you may want to see."

As Smith explained the situation he'd stumbled across, Michael found the excitement to be catching. "What's the address?

"1535 West Circle," Jerry replied, "kinda on the outskirts of town."

"I'll be there in 15 minutes, Jerry...make sure the folks who called this in don't touch ANYTHING, and try to keep the area secure. We need to keep the place pristine...nothing tampered with. We have to get the CSI boys in there."

"Way ahead of ya there, boss," Jerry replied. "I have the place cordioned off, and the residents are in the kitchen, away from the main mess. Also called the CSI boys already."

Michael mentally cursed. Jerry had done well, considering, but he was looking at things through the eyes of a beat cop. Putting up police tape was definitely going to draw unwanted attention. That he could deal with, though.

"Listen Jerry, great job, man. From this point forward, I want to make sure that our task force is first on the scene, without interferrence. Let's keep this under wraps....don't use the police band anymore. We don't know who is listening in. Think we're best off keeping this to cell phones. I don't wanna have another disaster like we had this morning, with a bunch of civillian gawkers and press trampling around through our crimes scene. We'd best notify Woods and O'Connell and get them over there too." He paused, thinking for a moment, and then continued, "Also, keep the two tenants under wraps for as long as you can. I don't want anyone questioning them, but the four of us. You got all that, Jerry?"

"Yes, sir...I've got it covered.," Jerry replied.

"Alright...again, nice work, Jerry. Hell, for all we know, we may be over-reacting and someone might just be using the headlines to put a scare into these folks, but we're better to cover our bets. I'm on my way."

*****

After apologizing to Ivy for having to leave so abruptly, Michael walked casually to his car, so as not to tip her off, and slowly pulled away. Once out of sight, he hit the gas..hard. He also placed his siren atop his sedan. He knew Ivy hadn't been fooled. Even now, he was pretty sure she was either following somewhere back there, or had called in to her superiors to let them know something was up.

Now he was rocketing down the road, red light flashing, his mind going over the current chain of events. Granted, it WAS possible that this was just a mean prank with someone who had an axe to grind with the couple living there, but his gut made him believe this was more than just coincidence. his mind began playing over the possibilities if the killer WAS the one responsable for the break in and subsequent vandalism.

If that were the case, it would mean a HUGE break in the case. First of all, the fact that the place had been vandalized suggested that the killer had lost the refined coolness with which the other crimes seemed to have had. the wanton destruction suggested that the perp had been in a rage. This worked to their benefit in two ways.

First, it suggested the possibility that the killer could very well be connected with one of the two people living there. They'd both have to be interviewed extensively, Secondly, in an enraged state of mind, the killer very well could have left a key piece of evidence behind. In typical profiling, research had suggested that anger normally tends to cloud judgement, and caused killers to become sloppy. He was counting on that...the meticulous precision of the other crimes, with both the bodies and the crime scenes revealing little to nothing, gave Michael the impression that the killer was normally very calm and collected. This might be just the break they needed. CSI would be all over the place with a fine tooth comb, looking for physical evidence. His task force would concentrate on interviewing...talking to the residents, and interviewing the surrounding neighbors, if there were any.

He pulled up to the address Smith had given him on the phone...1535 West Circle. He knew shortly that the others would arrive, and the sight of more than one police vehicle and a CSI van would quickly draw attention...the kind that ushered in the arrival of the press..so, with that in mind, he quickly got out of the car and approached the door and knocked firmly, pulling out his badge. He was determined to begin the interviewing of the occupants and get his questions answered before this became unmanageable again.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Deb/Brian/Hallenbach

Deb and Brian were huddled together on the couch, the officers having cleared the living room for their return, so they could take prints and process evidence in the kitchen where they had been standing. When the officer that Deb had seen appeared in her living room, she almost fainted or at least made it look like she did. Brian supported her and calmed her nerves asking her what was it, what had further upset her.

“That cop. He’s the one on the news and in the papers. You know the Serial Killer cop. . . the one on the Daddy’s case,” Deb whispered under her breath. . .barely.

Brian’s brow shot up and he started thinking about what this could mean for Angelica. If there was a way to protect Angel and get Marc out of Deb’s hair, he was going to take it. After all, it was the cops’ job to sift through misleading shit, but if he was able to convince them then that was all that mattered to him.

Brian stood up and took the officer’s hand. “I know you’ll let the evidence speak for itself Sir,” he stated as he greeted Officer Hallenbeck. “No need to introduce yourself Sir, I have watched the news. I just never thought I’d be talking to you personally.” Brian shuddered. “I thought this was just a random act, but when I saw the damage. . . well. . . I think it was Deb’s ex-boyfriend.”

Brian went on to tell about the incident at the restaurant, but eventually he had to turn the floor over to Deb, by then though Deb was itching to get in there and tell her side of the story.

“He called me a whore,”Deb cried. “Right where everybody could hear. And that woman,” Deb shuddered in disgust. “She was just as rude. The looks she gave me. Well. . . officer I have to be honest. As much as I hate to admit it . . . I did love Marc, but he was just so mixed up. He was going no where in life and I needed more. That and well. . .he served time and that scared me. Now after last night and this,” she looked around her home and all the police. “I’m scared of him. I mean this is so violent and I know things happen to a person in prison and well. . .he’s just not safe anymore.”

Big crocodile tears filled her eyes and dropped down her cheeks. “I’ve given all Marc’s information to another officer, but if there is something more you need to know I’ll tell you. And that woman. . . she was just . . .ewww.” Deb pushed her hair away from her face and looked up at the officer. “Will we be in the paper?” she asked.

 

[Wyld52771]

Michael looked at Deb, and said, "I can't say. The actions of the press aren't exactly something I can predict. I suppose it is likely they might try to interview you, but for your own sake, I'd avoid it." He paused, looking intently at each of them, in turn, and continued, "This could very well be nothing more than someone trying to scare you by busting up your place and writing stuff off the headlines to cause you panic. If this IS the case, by letting the press interview you, you may draw the ire of the killer. And not to panic you myself, but if the worst is true, and this IS the work of the killer...well, it's probably better not to antagonize the perp further by seeking publicity here."

Brian looked at him and said, "Detective Hallenbeck...the writing we found on the walls of the bedroom...do you think this has something to do with the murders I've been reading about in the papers?"

Michael decided to be honest, but in such a way that it would terrify the couple before him. "It is a distinctly remote possibility. I'm not saying it's the case, but it WAS the writing on your walls that brought me here tonight. It may turn out to be uninvolved with the case...but I have to investigate every tip, no matter how small or unlikely it may be."

Michael looked at the notes he'd written down so far...those gathered from Smith when he'd arrived, and what he'd gotten so far from the couple before him. Evidence of forced entry through the kitchen door. Nothing missing, but the house vandalized, and the walls of the master bedroom defaced with the words "Dad's mad, baby girl" written over and over again. Mention of a suspect...an ex-boyfriend named Marc Jordan, who supposedly had a criminal record.

He looked up at Deb and asked, "This ex-boyfriend of yours...what makes you think HE'S responsable? The altercation in the restaurant?"

Deb nodded, and he continued, asking, "How long were you two together?"

"Almost a year."

"How long ago did you break up with him?"

She looked thoughtful as she repied, "Probably close to three months ago now."

"In the past, had he ever gotten physical with with you in a hurtful way?"

Art first, Deb shook her head no, but then got a thoughtful look on her face, and nodded hesitantly, saying, "Well...not before last night. We argued a lot, but he never hit me...but last night he grabbed me by my face, and he also slapped me."

That raised Michael's eyebrows a bit. "So, would you consider him a violent person? Someone who'd be capable of doing something like this?"

"Until yesterday, I'd have said no," Deb replied, "but I'm not so sure anymore. He was acting pretty crazy at the restaurant."

"Is there anyone else either of you can think of who'd be capable of doing something like this? Either of you have any other enemies you're aware of?"

Deb shook her head in negation of that idea, and Brian said, "No, Detective...at least none I that I'm aware of that'd be capable of doing something like this." He noticed that Brian looked away when he said that, making Michael believe that Brian wasn't being fully honest with him...but he'd have another chance to interview the two of them after CSI came up with anything. He'd press harder then, after the shock of the night's events died down...

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

NPC's Brian and Deb

Deb and Brian answered the questions that the Officer presented to them. Brian said nothing about how vicious Angelica could be at times or how angry she was when something didn’t go her way, but he never suspected she was a Serial Killer, so he had no qualms about not mentioning her name. After all, Marc wasn’t one either, but if it meant getting any suspicions away from Angelica and feeding Deb the lines about Marc helped then he was taking the bait and running with it. Angelica had loved him and he loved her, but there were times she was to secretive to him and he wanted involved in all aspects of his life.

When the Officer shook their hands and left, Brian pulled Diane into his arms. “A hotel?” he said with a smile.

“Definitely,” she said with a smile all her own.

The got back in the car after being told not to leave town and to call the station with whatever information they think would be pertinent to the investigation as well as the number where they can be contacted. The house would be cleared for them to return to by the end of the week, for now they were asked just to keep the police informed.

Brian promised himself to make sure every encounter with Marc was one that would cause a scene and he hoped eventually the man would strike out at him. Angelica he decided, as Deb slept soundly beside him. . .he’d have to talk to her privately, he needed to make sure she hadn’t been the one to be so vicious to him and Deb. In time Brian to fell asleep and thoughts of vandals, Marc, Angelica and a Serial Killer were no longer on his mind.

 

[redbaron05]

As he is leaving the scene of the vandalized house Jerry glances at his watch, "Dang vandals almost midnight I'm sure Serenity is at home in bed asleep by now. Hope she doesnt think I deliberatly stood her up will have call her in the morning and let her know what happened. Maybe she will understand."

"Rumble" the noise of his stomach rumbling reminds him that it has been hours since he has eatten. Pulling into an all night burger place he grabs a burger and fries and heads home eatting on the way.

Arriving back his place he strips down and climbs in bed after setting the alarm to wake him early.

A few hours later the alarm awakens Jerry who gets up stretching hurrying to get dressed as he has a couple of stops to make before getting to the station.

 

[poohlive]

"Has there been anyone?"

The tall man bent over the counter, thinking about it for a moment. He had a small face, and his black spikey hair looked both fake and recently dyed. It was one of the typical looks of a man who worked the graveyard shift at the porn store.

The place itself was empty, except for an elderly man in a cowboy hat who was wandering around the leather clothing. Trevor didn't even want to know what he was doing.

The tall man behind the counter was thinking about what Trevor had just asked him. A very sepcific criteria. A woman, high class, very good looking, between 20 and 30, shy, quiet. She wouldn't have ever been in here before, and would be looking for bracers, clamps, handcuffs, and whips.

Jack, tha tall man with fake spikey hair, nodded his head.

"Yeah, a few women are like that. One came in, bought the love seat over there a few weeks ago."

Trevor looked at the box. It looked like a mesh of leather straps to hold a woman up, keeping her exposed and helpless. Legs spread, back arched, she would be ready, willing, and able for anything.

He was intrigued.

"You have any names or anything?"

Jack smirked, "What are you a cop now, Trevor?"

Trevor only smiled as he made notes in his new notebook. It was vastly filling with details. There was so much in here, so much he needed to do. If he had anything to say about this, he was going to find this girl.

"If i were a cop I couldn't ask you these questions, and you know it."

Jack did. Anonimity came with this place, everyone knew that. But, Trevor wasn't just anyone, and with the hundreds he slipped across the counter, it wouldn't matter too much anyway.

"I tell you what, if they paid with a credit card, I'll look up their information. Might be able to give you names and whatnot. I'll keep and eye out for you."

"Thanks," Trevor said, nodding as he left.

 

[Babette_____]

01/04/06

Angelica had spent most of the morning and the afternoon working on the drive-way of her “parents” home. She then had used up some time showering and getting dressed. She headed out to her van and slid behind the wheel. She was ready to enjoy herself and by doing that she needed someone boring. Someone she could enjoy for a while. . .she’d been rushed the last time, leaving evidence behind.

“Yeah, you stupid girl, you left evidence. You want caught? Do you? Do you want some freakin’ cop to come and haul your pretty ass away? Maybe you do. . .maybe if you are caught I won’t come and fuck you every night.” Her father told her.

With a shudder Angelica hissed back, “Shut-up. I’ll be careful. I’ll change things. They’ll forget about me. I’ll become someone different, Daddy. Just give me a chance. . .”

“That’s right sweetie. . .you catch the bad un’s. But right now you need to lay low. Get a playmate. A boyfriend.”

“Boyfriends cheat mom. . . just like husbands.”

“I fucked you good. Though... even if I was a cheating husband.”

“I’ll find a friend. You’ll see... someday I’ll find the right man and I’ll know he won’t cheat on me. You’ll see. He’ll love me. They all will one day, once they know I’m only cleaning them. You know. . . change is good.”

“Yes. Change is good. . .”

“Fucking your dry cunt, is good Angel baby. That will never change.”

The voices in her head continued as Angelica drove to one of the nastiest sides of Chicago and made friends. Ones she would keep for a while. Ones that would be reported as a missing persons, but never bothered with again. She and her “friends” found themselves talking in a seedy bar, where only the lowest of the low occupied. Her eyes roamed over the man in front of her and his girlfriend. “A threesome huh?” the girl asked.

“It’s a lot of money,” Angelica smiled softly. Her fingers running over the girl’s hand. “Just this one time. It’s my kink.”

“Condoms?” the man asked.

“Always. I’m a safety kinda gal,” Angelica said.

“Any other kinks?” the man asked.

“Just one. . .You’ll be Dad.” She looked at the girl. “You’ll be mom. . . and I’m your little girl. . .your Angel.”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Samantha spent her day at the library cataloging movies and books. . . and staring at her phone. When time slipped by and lunch came and went, so did all hope that Marc was going to call her. She felt awful. She felt like a fool. She'd fucked him, enjoyed him. . .hell she could have even called it making love, but she didn't want to say that word, so she swallowed it. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

She slipped into her car and headed to the grocery. Her cell phone tucked in her pocket, almost a desperate sign that she was wanting him to call her. She bit her lower lip as she shopped for one. It will never be the two, she told herself. Why? Why were women like that? Why couldn't they fuck and then leave it at that? She wondered that as she passed the magazine counter.

Several titles caught her interest and she plucked three magazines up and headed to the cashier. She made her purchases and slipped back behind the wheel of her car. She thought of driving past his place, but didn't want to be seen doing that incase he'd lied to her and his vehicle really was at his home.

When she got in she turned on her lights and set her purchase on the table and began to once again make her dinner for one. Her thoughts pushing away the man she'd spent a wonderful evening with the night before.

 

[redbaron05]

Leaving home on his way to the station Jerry stops at a small florist. Hearing the bell over the door ring the lady behind the counter smiles as she looks up and says, "Good Morning sir may I help you?" Returning her smile Jerry replies, "I hope so I need a bouquet of flowers to get out of trouble with a lady any suggestions?" Smiling the clerk asks "wife, girlfriend or stood up date?" Blushing Jerry replies, "Unintentionally stood up first date."

The clerk excuses herself and goes to the back of the shop and soon returns with a bouquet of roses handing them to Jerry and says these should do the trick." Looking over the beautiful arrangement Jerry smiles as he hands the clerk his credit card and says,"Thanks they are beautiful."

Paying and retriving his credit card Jerry writes a lil note on the card,"I hope these will help make up for my missing dinner last night... Jerry" soon he is pulling into the parking lot of Johannsen Imports getting out of his truck Jerry rings the bell and waits for someone to answer the door.

 

[jushorny]

Marc

I spent the day with my little nephew at the zoo, had dinner with both him and my sister. It seems my visit to my sister’s was more of a visit with my nephew. He was a cute kid though, so I didn’t mind terribly. Besides that, I knew, being a single mom, she had to chose her days off wisely. Plus I figured for at least a few days he would have a male figure in his life. Tomorrow I was taking him to the baseball game and he seemed way over excited about it.

That night as I laid on the sofa, trying to stretch out for some sleep I remembered the night with Samantha. I looked at the time and knew it would be too late and improper of me to call Sam now. I thought about the excitement she brought to me. The way we seemed to mold together so easily. I couldn’t remember any other lady who had made me feel so comfortable, so quickly. A lady that turned me on more than any other had as well.

It was early the next morning before I got any private time. My nephew was still sleeping and my sister was getting herself ready for work. I grabbed a cup of coffee and dialed Sam’s cell phone. I knew it was early but was sure she would be up getting dressed for work.

“Sam?....... it’s Marc”

I felt a sense of relief when I heard Sam’s voice. Now I just had to determine if she was mad that I had not called before like I said I would. It wasn’t because she wasn’t on my mind, far from it. She actually was occupying a lot more of my head than I would care to admit to anyone.

It took a few moments before Samantha seemed to warm up to my phone call. Eventually though we began discussing what had been going on in our lives since that night together. I filled her in on my nephew and the fun we were having together.

At about the time my sister came out from her bedroom Sam had said she really should be heading out to the Library. I reluctantly said my goodbye, reminding Sam that I would be home in a few days and still would be cooking the dinner for her that I had promised. I hung up my phone to see my sister staring at me with a big smile on her face. Her hand ruffled my hair as she told me she had to leave or be late for work but that she expected a full briefing on just who this lady was when we met up for dinner that evening.

 

[jushorny]

Marc & Detective

My nerves immediately became frazzled as I listened to the voice mail message. The police, a Detective Hallenbeck was looking to speak with me. What the fuck did he want I wondered, I had not been anywhere near any trouble in a very long time. Just knowing the fact the police knew how to get a hold of me sent a shiver down my spine, my trust for the law had long ago been ruined. The way they can twist things around to their benefit it unreal. I thought about waiting to call him until I returned to town but the whole idea of speaking with the police was turning my stomach in knots and I knew I would not be able to wait. I realized it would be best to make the call and get it over with.

Of course it took me time to get my thoughts together and to find alone time to make the call. Detective Hallenbeck was, of course, unavailable when I called him so I reluctantly left a message with my cell phone number. I was watching cartoons with my nephew when the detective called back. I told my nephew I had to take this call, it had to do with work and I couldn’t be bothered. I went into my sister’s room and closed the door as I answered the phone.

“Hello, this Marc Jordan” I answered, my stomach immediately beginning to churn. He announced who he was, just to make sure I knew and that he just wanted to ask a few questions. Yea, I thought to myself, that is exactly what the cop said when I ended up doing time. “Sure, detective ask away,” I said not really meaning that and making sure I was alert and paid careful attention to how the detective worded his questions.

At first I was completely honest with his questions. Explaining that the time I had spent in prison had to do with gambling and being an immature college athlete. That those days were far behind me now. I also was honest with him when he began to ask me about Deb. I wondered just why he was asking about that? It wasn’t until he brought up that night at the restaurant, when Deb was trying to weasel her way in to have dinner with me and Sam that I became suspicious. So it had something to do with that, but why would the police contact me about an ex girlfriend being rude to me in a public place?

“Detective, if you don’t mind me asking, why would you bother yourself with this call, I mean, if this is all about that evening at the restaurant, it simply was two ex-lovers having a minor dispute, that’s all?”

The detective of course continued on with his questions, completely ignoring the fact that I had asked a question. It became clear through his questions that he was fishing for something. It seemed we went through the entire history of my relationship with Deb including him asking me what I knew about her current flame Brian. It was when he asked what I had done that evening after the restaurant that I became nervous all over again, my stomach completely twisted. I knew how I answered these next few questions would be tantamount to not only where his investigation lead, but also to my budding relationship with Samantha.

“I went home detective, after the restaurant I dropped my date at her place and I went home alone. She had to be at work early and it was our first date, if you know what I mean.” I tried to keep it light and put a little humor in our conversation. “Is there anything else you need to know Detective?”

 

[sharingfantasies]

Serenity paused at the corner. There was a man at the door to the studio that wouldn't be opened for hours. She tilted her head slightly as she shifted the paperbag carrying her roast beef sandwich to the the other hand where her cup of rootbeer was wet with condensation. Rummaging in her purse she pulled out the keys to the studio door and slipped the largest one between her fingers. It never hurt to be careful, especially in this part of town, most especially with the killings that had been going on all over the place.

Walking the rest of the way to the building, Serenity thought there was something familiar about the set of wide shoulders on the man. She knew she didn't have an appointment with anyone, so there was no reason for someone to be at the door at this time of the day. When she was a few steps away, the man began to turn and Serenity tensed.

"Oh, it is you!" she exclaimed. The man was the policeman that had stood her up last night. In his hand was a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Maybe he was interested in her after all. With an inward sigh of relief that she wouldn't need to do anything more with her keys than open the door, she was able to smile at Officer Smith.

With her hands full of her lunch and keys, she moved past him and unlocked the studio door. He reached around her to pull the door open for her and for a moment she felt his body close to hers, smelled the scent of him, felt his body heat. "Thank you."

Instead of leaning back against him as she wanted to, she entered the studio and set down her things. Turning, she faced him, her arms in front of her, hands lightly clasped. "Play it cool," she told herself.

She would not take anything for granted. She would listen to what he had to say. Then make up her mind about what she was feeling, because right now, her feelings were all jumbled up inside.

"What can I do for you today, Officer Smith?" Serenity asked, pleased with the cool professional tone in her voice.

 

[redbaron05]

Having rung the bell of the studio and getting no answer Jerry looks at his watch and seeing that it is still early and he has time leans against the side of the building to wait. Hoping to see Serenity before he has to be at work.

Hearing footsteps behind him Jerry turns to se Serenity approaching, "Oh it's you" she says with a look of relief on her face as she steps around him to unlock and open the door. Holding the door open for her as she enters Jerry replies, "Yes ma'am it's me."

"Thank you" Serenity says as she enters ahead of him,"You're welcome" Jerry replies catching a whiff of her perfume as "MMM... she smells nice" Jerry tells himself as he follows her inside.

Setting her stuff down on the desk Serenity turns and coolly asks "What can I do for you today Officer Smith?"

Jerry decides the best way to do handle this is to come straight to the point. Clearing his throat he replies, "Ms Breecher uh Serenity I would like to sincerly apologize for standing you up at dinner last night. The call I called you about took a lot longer to handle than I thought it would. I had to wait for the detectives and the crime scene guys to arrive and by the time they all arrived and things were all wrapped up it was well after midnght, too late of an hour for a decent gentleman to call a lady. That is why I didn't call you again last night and the reason you find me on your doorstep this morning bearing gifts hoping you will find it in your heart of hearts to forgive me and give this poor dumb cop another chance to take you out." Jerry hands Serenity the flower arrangement after he finishes talking and waits for her answer poised to duck if she decides to throw the flowers back at him which he wouldnt blame her for if she did.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Serenity had to smile, she couldn't help it. The man had said all that without taking a breath. She didn't think she could ever remember anyone saying so much without breathing. Relaxing she looked the man in the eyes. He seemed sincere and it was his job and he was looking all cute and apologetic.

"Apology accepted Officer Smith."

Walking closer to him she reached out for the flowers, "Why don't I take this gift and put it in some flowers, and then you can relax a little." She smiled at the man who looked like he expected her to throw the flowers at him. "Don't worry, if I was really upset I would keep the beautiful flowers and throw you out." She laughed at his expression. Then carried the flowers to the backroom where she found an antique lead glass vase that was perfect for the bouquet. Returning to the studio she set them on a table, then she waved him into one of the two seats where the sisters had sat last night.

"Have you had lunch yet? Would you like half of my roast beef sandwich? I can find a glass in back if you want some of the rootbeer?"

He agreed to split the lunch and as they ate, Serenity asked a little about his family, why he became a cop, if he enjoyed it. Anything to learn a little about the man contentedly munching away on the sandwich.

 

[Babette_____]

Jan. 4, 2006 - April 3, 2006

Jan. - Feb. 2006

Karri Williams watched the blood slowly drain from her boyfriend. The woman. . . “her little girl” was standing over him. She kept whispering about doing things different. She kept saying it over and over until Karri had her voice memorized. At first Karri didn’t understand. She was suspended from a chain that hung from the ceiling her legs were restrained to the floor. She was spread eagle.

The woman had kept her like this for several days. She’d soiled herself. The woman had hit her. She wet herself. The woman hit her. She vomited and again was beaten. There was nothing left in her now. Nothing to shit out. Nothing to piss. Nothing to puke up. She was empty. There was a sound from the bed and Karri opened her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she had closed them. She shuddered as “her little girl” straddled her lover Derek and came over his cock.

Derek watched the tits of the beautiful creature bounce up and down. He was growing weak. She’d fucked him several times, always making Karri watch. She fucked him now as the IV emptied him. He couldn’t close his eyes. She’d sewn the lids open. He could speak, but he didn’t now. He was to scared. He just wanted to die.

He had been prodded with a hot iron through out the last few days. He watched Karri beaten, but her sex was never invaded. She’d been scrubbed raw. Her breasts. Her pussy. Her ass. There wasn’t a part of her that hadn’t been abused by the scouring pad. When the woman lifted her slippery come-covered sex off of him he watched her for what he knew would be the final time. His eyes moved to Karri. “I love you,” he whispered seconds before the long saber slit his girlfriend’s neck open. His words emerged as the last puff of air escaped his lungs.

Angelica smiled. She was changing. Growing. Deep inside something was blossoming. This had felt right. This had felt better. This was what needed to be done. She had purged the vile demons from the man. Drained them from him and the final words he had whispered were aimed at her, for saving him. She smiled.

She reached up and released the dead woman. She dropped. She was quiet as she stepped through the puddles of blood. It had been different this time. As if she were closing and opening a new chapter in her life, doing both at the same time. “How wonderful,” she whispered to the room. She had made plans to change things. Her mistakes last time had been small... but small meant big.

The gasoline was downstairs in the kitchen. It smelled horrid, but it would get the job done. It did. Angelica no longer needed mom and dad, she’d grown up. She’d matured. She was the Savior and it was her job to clean the world. The match flared in her hand and when she flicked it, the flame mingled with the fumes and ignited. She walked away.

The burning inferno exploded around her. She knew all would be left would have been teeth, but she had pulled those along time ago. There was enough fuel soaked into the house that nothing would be left. The house and land could not be traced to her. She’d already taken care of that along time ago, the names of the “owners” were those of a couple of dead babies in a cemetery. Angelica got in her van and drove off into the night. She had tasted the power of controlling two people and now she wanted more. Pairs. . .that was how to deal with cheaters and liars. . .pairs.

Feb. - Apr. 2006

Angelica quit her job. Her eyes full of tears as she hugged and kissed her friends and co-workers good bye. She was a new woman. She had surprised everyone by quitting, but her reasons were sound. She’d lost the thrill of her job. She needed something new and exciting. What? They had asked her. Angelica had grinned wide. “I’m opening my own antique shop.” She did too. Now she traveled... and she waited.... and she lurked.

She had met someone. Not anyone special to her, but for now he worked as a cover for her new lease on life. The "freedom" of being normal. Trevor was a great guy, at least he came across that way to her. A bit immature and most diffently not her usually "good" time fellow, but right now they were just swapping kisses, she hadn't bedded him yet. Soon though. She had to keep him around inorder to lead that "normal" looking life she wanted.

Deb and Brian were on top of the world. No one had violated their home. Deb was engaged and she was on top of the world. Brian was too. He’d been upset when Angelica admitted she’d done the damage out of anger, but she was sorry and was now okay. She’d paid for the damages and begged him to keep her out of it. He had.

Now she watched them. Just like she did everyday. She studied Deb’s movements, more then Brian’s. She knew Brian almost by heart. His patterns rarely changed. At the end of March she showed up to give Brian a box of things he’d left in her closet. Of course Brian wasn’t there when she got there, but neither did she have anything that belonged to him. What was in her box though was some things that would set up another to take the fall for the missing persons.

When Brian confronted her and told her he’d already covered for her, she had him explain. He told her of Deb’s ex-boyfriend and some chic he’d been seen with at a restaurant. Brian told her of the “outburst” and how he used that to make the police consider him as a suspect and not anyone else.

When pressed, Brian told her everything she needed to know about Marc Jordan and his oh so serious girlfriend the local librarian Samantha Cordial. She even had nail clippings and a hair sample from both him and her. . .only a couple of strands nothing else. She’d managed to get a bit of blood from some cut the woman had gotten during the last few week, scrapping it from a tampon.

When Deb opened the door and let Angelica in, she had felt safe, after all Brian hadn’t told her the truth and Angelica had been kind and pleasant ever since the break-in. So when Angelica offered a bottle of wine she’d brought to give the couple as a congratulations on the engagement it was easily accepted. The pills of course made them both think they were getting woozy and both agreed to let Angelica clean up the place, while they laid down. That was when she had fun.

When they woke up, they were still in their home. Deb had been tied to a chair and was forced to watch Brian who was on the bed with Angelica straddling him. He’d gotten hard and hated it. He’d come and hated it. His blood had drained freely into a bucket and when he died, the last thing he saw was a saber slicing open Deb’s throat. Then the fun began. Evidence was planted and Angelica slipped back into her quiet life as an antique dealer.

She wondered when they would find the bodies. Who would smell the decay first? The neighbor? The mail man? The UPS guy? Her eye shined brightly as she unwrapped her newest blade. Yes, she’d matured. Changed. Grown wiser. But some things hadn’t changed. The words were still there. Mom. . .Dad. . . but one more had been added to each Pure.

It had taken a lot of time to form the delicate word in antique font. She grinned as she looked at the three irons displayed openly in her shop, but so well hidden among the dust and dirt, no one would notice. One on the east wall, the Mom hidden from view. One on the left, Dad hidden as well. But the new one. . .Pure was proudly displayed over the front inner wall of her shop. Purely Cleansed Antiques

April 3, 2006

A call was placed to the police.

“There’s a smell coming from my neighbor’s place. . .been going on for a while now.”

“We’ll have someone come out and take a look around.”

“Well. . .hurry up,” the old woman cackled. “It sure does stink.”

An officer arrived and knew what he was smelling as soon as he reached the door. He broke in after calling for back up. What he saw would haunt his dreams forever. He immediately called Hallenbach and told him... “You better get down here and fast and you may want to call your Fed. friend too. Daddy’s girl is back. . .but she’s really fucked up now.”

 

[Wyld52771]

Detective Michael Hallenbeck

The past three months had been a blur of bad events to Michael. After visiting the scene of the vandalism at the young couples' home, he'd called up Marc Jordan on the phone. He'd asked a few probing questions, but nothing he'd discovered had pointedly convinced Michael beyond a reasonable doubt that Jordan was anything more than an ex-con trying to make himself a new life. Not that it wasn't possible that he WAS somehow involved, but there was not enough substantial evidence to bring him in. Since that time, the killer had gone underground, and Michael had been under fire.

Captain Morrison had criticized the way Michael had been running the case. He'd been putting pressure on Michael to bring Jordan in for a more thourough interrogation, despite the fact that Jordan had no obvious ties with any of the other victims, and the profiling work Michael had previously done. He recalled their last "conversation" with some irritation...

****

"Jesus H. Christ, Hallenbeck...how fucking inept ARE you! The only goddamn lead we have, and you fuckin' dismiss it!" Morrison glared at him, his jowls shaking in disdain and fury.

"Like I said," Michael calmly replied, "we didn't have enough reason to bring him in, and we still don't now. No ties to the other victims. No motive. Hell, even his past record says the time he spent upstate was not for violent crime. He doesn't fit the profile." He looked calmly at Morrison, his gaze turning to steel as he added, "If you want to bring this guy in to try to turn him into a scapegoat, find someone else to run this case. All we'd be doing is setting ourselves up for a lawsuit."

That took Morrison aback, but only momentarily. "He has ties to the vandalism, Hallenbeck," he shouted, "That is reason enough to bring him in!"

Michael's voice rose angrily in return, his calm finally swept away. "And THEN what, Jack? You'd have nothing to link him to the other crimes. He'd walk. And if he IS somehow involved, all you'd be doing is putting his guard up! If he IS involved, our best bet is to make him think we don't suspect him at ALL."

More words had been thrown back and forth, and Michael had ended up getting thrown out of Morrison's office. His suggestion to have a guard placed on Brian and Deb had been denied...he had been told it was because of a lack of manpower, but Michael suspected the REAL reason was because Morrison was carrying a personal grudge against him.

Aside from the pressure of the job, Ivy hadn't called him since the night he'd left her place so abruptly. He figured he'd blown it with her...he'd left a few messages, but none had been returned.

****

He walked down to the forensic lab, trying to get his mind around all the frustration he'd been feeling. He wasn't alone in that frustration...although the team had been in a bit of a hiatus, he knew that Woods, O'Connell, and Smith had probably felt similarly irked over what had been going on. The officers in the CSI unit were as well, and it was there he was headed, to speak to one officer in particular.

Amelia Rodriguez had been working the tech end of this case for as long as he'd been working it, and had been just as frustrated over the lack of credible evidence. She was CSI's top dog, heading up their unit...she was the best at what she did. A petite woman of hispanic origin, Amelia stood just shy of five feet tall, and the only way a scale would ever read over a hundred pounds, is if she were standing on it soaking wet. She was attractive in a bookish sort of way, her dark hair pulled back in a careless ponytail, her brown eyes slightly magnifed by her wire rimmed glasses. Her appearance always brought to mind a harmless diminutive librarian...which couldn't be further from the truth. Sure, she was wickedly smart...genius-level smart even...but raised as the daughter of an Army Ranger, she was one of the few cops outside of SWAT that could best Michael with a firearm, and could spar toe to toe with any man on the force, giving as good as she was getting.

Amelia looked up, and seeing Michael enter, smiled in greeting. "Hi Mikey!"

Michael smiled in return and replied, "Hiya Ames, how goes it?"

Amelia was going over the evidence at the vandalism again, and she shook her head in frustration, "Nothing we haven't already established, but I'll go over it again with you...maybe we can get a fresh perspective."

She looked down at her files, reading them to Michael. "Forcible entry by the back door through the kitchen. No blood or skin samples found, and the only prints found were of the two people living there. We DID find a few threads...some bit of fabric on the broken glass. Sample was analyzed and proved to be a common type of clothing material. I'm guessing a glove snagged when the window broke."

Michael nodded. "No surprise there, Ames. The killer has always been too savvy to leave prints behind..wouldn't expect to find then if this was our perp."

Amelia gave him an annoyed look for interrupting, and Michael raised his hands in mock surrender. Grinning, Amelia continued, "Looking at the angle and depth of the slashes in the furniture indicated whoever made them was using a long blade...something like a machete, saber, or sword. The cuts were too long and too clean for a small blade. No tearing at all, indicating the blade was razor sharp and finely made."

Again, Michael nodded...he was guesing that the killer was now favoring a sword of some type. he made a mental note to do some more research on blades.

Amelia continued, "The angle of the cuts suggests the the person who made them was left handed, which would definitely fit our killer's profile."

Again. Michael nodded, making a mental note...he thought he remembered seeing in Marc Jordan's police record that he was left-handed, but he'd have to double check that. His gut still made him believe that a woman was responsable for the killing...the sexual evidence in that regard had been highly suggestive...but he could be wrong. New precidents WERE possible. Plus he had to take into account that if Jordan WASN'T the killer, there was still an outside chance he might be involved...perhaps an accomplice. It would definitely explain the moving of the bodies if more than one perp was involved.

Amelia looked at Michael, setting down her files and said, "Michael, I know our evidence isn't conclusive...but if I had to lay odds, I'd venture a guess that this was our killer. If that couple had been home that night...well, let's just say that instead of seeing slashed up furniture and broken knick-knacks that night, I think we'd have been bagging up their bodies instead. The damage done there was just too frenzied and violent for me to believe otherwise. I think those folks are in danger..."

It was then, that Michael phone rang. He picked up, answering, "Hallenbeck here."

The voice on the other end sounded distraught as he explained he was a beat cop who'd been sent for a residential complaint. “You better get down here and fast and you may want to call your Fed. friend too. Daddy’s girl is back. . .but she’s really fucked up now.” When the cop gave Michael the address, his blood ran cold. "We're on the way," he replied.

He hung up and looked at Amelia, "We're on...get your team together." He told Amelia the address and her eyes looked pained.

He strode quickly out the door, leavin her to her preperations, starting to head quickly up the hallway that lead to the parking lot. He also began to dial each of the rest of the task force in turn, dreading what they would find when they got there...

 

[redbaron05]

Realizing he was holding his breath Jerry relaxes and takes a deep breath when he realizes that Serenity had accepted his apology and wasn't gonna throw the flowers back at him.

Excusing herself Serenity leaves the room to put the flowers in some water. Jerry can't help but watch the sway of her hips as she leaves the room. "She sure is pretty" he thinks to himself while she is gone.

Returning shortly she invites him to share her lunch with her and as he hadnt eatten anything since breakfast he accepts and joins her at the small table.

While sharing her lunch she asks him about his family and why he became a cop and if he enjoyed his job. Jerry tells her about growing up down in Texas with three sisters and how he followed in the family tradition of service, as his dad was a firefighter and his uncle was a cop down in Texas and that he loved his job because he loved helping people Turning the question around he asked her about her family?

Soon it is time for him to head out to work where he puts in another long day tracking leads trying to catch Daddys Baby Girl.