Serial Killer Strikes Again

[Steiner]

There was still a good 45 minutes before the press conference when Marc's lawyer contacted him. Martin toyed with the idea of blowing the creep out, but realised that he'd better stop playing stupid games and concentrate on his job.

Some things were really not adding up about this latest murder.

For a start, nobody had said anything about there being TWO suspects previously. No signs on any of the murders suggested it. Whilst we were on the subject of signs and murders, none of the other Daddy's Little Girl murders had featured so much as a cloth fibre or skin sample. Now we virtually had a full lab sample kit on both suspects.

What the fuck. It really sounded like a copy cat. A nasty, violent, brutal and amateur copycat killing. And that fit the profile of his suspects to a tee.

Martin headed downstairs to the interview room and idly wondered what time the Fed agent was getting here. Hopefully he'd be able to compare notes with the guy - but he wasn't looking forward to telling him that he might just have been dragged down here for nothing...

 

[Babette_____]

“Oh fuck, yes,” she moaned against his pubic hairs. Angelica lifted his cock and slammed it into her throat. She squeezed his shaft with her lips and rolled them further down his stiff tool. Her hips fell down against his face, dropping her pussy further against his tongue. Angelica started to rub herself up and down across his face, fucking him faster and harder as she began to suck him off with matching speed.

Moans and sighs of pleasure filled the room as Angelica was transported back to a time and place where only she and her father existed. She could smell him, see him beneath her. He’d often taken this position with her, making her suck him off while he forced her body to like what was happening. She could see his hairs in her face and she clenched her eyes shut on the memory, reopened them and saw the younger curls of her lover.

Her tongue moved over his cock and she placed one hand on his balls. She squeezed and rolled them while she took his shaft completely down her throat and felt his pre cum coat the back of it. Her sex was constricting around his tongue and she could feel the orgasm in her reaching its peak.

 

[Tseranc]

Some hours later, time being less important then the number of dingy gas stations stopped at to clean the windshield and take a piss, Bruce Woods pulled into the Plainfield police station.

He wretched himself from the black sedan that screamed FBI: right down to the tinted windows and exempt plates. He walked slowly, stretching out his legs from the drive, and enjoying the cigarette that dangled from his lips. This he extinguished with regret on the last step before the door, and let himself in.

“Where is Hallenbeck and the big case being worked on right now?” he demanded of the late night desk sergeant in the same breath as he expelled the smoke from the his long last drag on the cigarette. The disgusted look on the man’s face as soooooo been worth holding it in that long.

“Sir, Detective Hallenbeck is not in, Detective Martin Hollander is currently interviewing a couple suspects in that case.”

“Shut up, you damned fool desk jockey! How loud you gonna say that over the desk here to any jackass that hasn’t yet even shown you a badge?! Are you trying to inform the media of you’re every hope and dream?!”

No wonder this mental midget was left babysitting the desk on late nights! He stormed through the doors where he knew the interrogation….err interview….room was located, and ignored the objections from the desk jockey to show him ID.

Shouting down the hall, “Which one of you pecker-heads is Hollander?!”

Fuck I need a drink already…and the sun isn’t even up yet!

 

[Steiner]

Martin paused with one foot on the stairs and the other on the corridor to the interview rooms. The angry voice reverberated around the ground floor of the station, causing heads to praire-dog out of officers and over dividers.

Oh great. He wouldn't put it past the idiot on the front desk to have let in Sam's father or something similar. He idly wondered whether he was about to be shotgunned into oblivion.

Coming up behind the angry man in the suit Martin cleared his throat.

"I'm the pecker-head you're looking for."

 

[Tseranc]

Bruce looked up and down the young pup in the fancy, though wore far to many hours tonight, suit.

Great…a rookie…

“What the hell, is this career night? Are you sure you don’t need to run along and get your Daddy to talk, or are you really ready to play police man?”

Bruce help up his hand to stop any retort back, then dug out his badge, at this distance the only clear markings would be the big blue F.B.I.. “Bruce Woods, down from the Chicago office, why the hell are you on the serial killer case? Where is Hallenbeck? Who the hell are you interrogating already?”

A slew of further questions came to his mind, but then he got his priorities straight.

“Fuck it, never mind all that, where the hell is the coffee? Then you can fill me in. I just hope the rest of you aren’t quite as incompetent as you’re 24th rate desk sergeant.”

 

[Steiner]

Briefly, Martin considered punching the FBI agent out - but the little limiter in his head that all cops need for dealing with abusive suspects, members of the public, superiors and coworkers kicked in.

"Well, so nice to meet you, Mister Woods of the FBI. Let me guess, you're the agent assigned to work the Daddy's Little Girl case for the Government, right?"

He sidestepped the interview room door and led Bruce towards the lounge, handing him a file as they went.

"We pulled some tasty forensics off the scene at the Snyder crimescene. We have good DNA samples and those samples correspond with two locals here who had a bit of a grudge against the couple. They're playing innocent right now and thanks to a fuckup from our dedicated boys in blue here, we had to release one of them. She's under surveillance right now and I'll be bringing her back in once 30 hours have elapsed. Her bullshit lawyer won that concession. Good news is that I have her on tape claiming that she's never visited that place - in which case someone transported her hair, skin and blood over there in a little baggie - because she is ALL over that crimescene."


Martin poured coffee and passed it to Bruce, pouring himself a cup.


"The Male suspect is a better prospect. Him we won't lose - although I need you to sign off on getting his DNA profile from the Federal database. We've run a preliminary check and it's positive - he's our other mystery visitor to the scene."

Martin dumped cream and sugar into his coffee.

"Hallenbeck, I can't tell you about. I started here this morning and I've not seen him yet. If you wanted a summary from me, I'd tell you that I was working two angles on tihis case.

Angle One is that either Marc or Samantha is Daddy's Little Girl and this is the latest in the series of killings.

Angle Two is that Marc or Samantha planned this murder to look like a Daddy's Little Girl killing, but are fucking amateurs and left all this forensics at the scene."

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

For now... a temporary reporter.

Jennifer Blumquist sat in the front row, her mic out, her recorder ready and a pen tucked behind her ear. Her hair was piled in the official looking school marm bun and she looked very professional in her navy skirt, white blouse and navy jacket. Her eyes scanned the others and she knew she had the best spot. Rumor was there was an arrest in the Daddy’s Little Girl killings and she was curious as to who it was. Would it be a man or a woman? Would it be a hands down guilty plea? Maybe a bargain?

She could feel her excitement boiling. She had a list of questions, not to mention another rumor was spreading. There was a new cop in town and until she knew how to work him into her “pocket” of gaining information, she’d have to play it sweet and simple.

She unbuttoned two buttons on her blouse... sweet, simple, and a bit seductive never hurt, though she refused to let her long brown curls down or take of her glasses that were there just for show. She’d found out early in life that she was judged on her looks, so “nerding” herself up worked in her job and in her private life.

 

[poohlive]

"You are gonna cum all over Daddy, aren't you?" He paused just long enough to speak before plunging his tongue further into her, her soft folds spreading against his lavish assault. He could feel the heat radiating, the juices flowing. He was covered already with her wonderful juices, but it wasn't enough.

It wasn't nearly enough.

His tongue lapped and licked as his cock pushed further and further inside of her. She knew exactly what to do, and her mouth wrapped around him, worshipping his cock as if it were the only thing in the world that existed. And, that is all that mattered. His cock and her pussy, joined together throught their mouths.

He needed to fuck her.

He would, as soon as she came for him, and filled his mouth. He would then plunge deep inside her.

He spread her lips open, his rough tongue lapping at her juicy cunt.

 

[Tseranc]

It made him sick how nice this guy was. Either he was an amazing suck up, or very practiced at keeping his cool.

Either way, he had now become Bruce’s latest hobby. He’d crack the man, if for nothing else then the sheer amusement of it.

And what the fuck was with the cream and sugar?! At this hour all that is needed is straight, black, sludge that barely has the right to be called coffee, let alone some foo foo creamer bull shit.

“Look, maybe we got start off on the wrong foot here. I’m sorry. I’m sure you were really good back in school, top of your class even. I was just looking for some real answers. Little things like the murder weapon, method used to kill the victims, is it consistent with the left handed killer? Was chloroform used? While this department seems to make a hobby of giving the press everything they need, there are those few details left that haven’t been tossed to the masses…. details you can easily use to determine if this is a copy cat or the real McCoy.”

Bruce downed the coffee in his cup in a few short gulps…he’d need the caffeine to keep going, and the taste was perhaps more bitter then his attitude.

“So, what is your department’s plan for the case now? Reassemble a task force? Grab as many rookies as you can, throw them in the same room with some crayola crayons and see what they come up with? “

 

[Babette_____]

Angelica ground her sex against him. “Fuck, yes Daddy... I wanna come,” she screamed out and felt her body grow tight as her climax covered her. The walls of her pussy tightened and the fluids fell thick down her sides. They landed against him and she trembled when she felt his tongue licking at her folds.

She shivered, having released his cock, she now moaned and gasped for breath as she came. “Dad... oh fuck dad, don’t leave me,” she whispered and then licked his cock again.

“Do you want me to finish Daddy or do you want my pussy, next? I’m all yours. . .tell me Daddy, how do you want to fuck your little girl?”

Her mind was in a fog, thick with her father’s memories and only his cock would please her. Angelica waited, the little Angel inside the woman that no one understood, waited to please the only man who ever loved her, or so she thought.

 

[Steiner]

Martin actually blinked at the fury of Bruce's answer.

"Ahmmm... I don't actually know that stuff yet, Agent. Sorry - the lab boys and girls prioritised the DNA testing because we were kinda excited about getting some actual forensics this time, I guess."

He poured Bruce a refill without waiting for the guy to ask him.

"I agree that those kinds of details will help us work out whether we have a couple of serial killers or just some surprisingly morally ambivalent copy cats here. If you're all over that, I could leave it to you? I'm going to have a pretty full day making sure that the suspects slick lawyer doesn't spring them."

Actually Martin REALLY wanted to turn Bruce loose on the asshole. That might make him more appreciative the next time he and Martin talked...

"As for the strategic stuff? I don't really know what the Chief has in mind - or this Hallenbeck, if he's still running the case. I heard he and the Chief had a few choice words, so I'm not really sure WHAT the score is."

Martin sucked back some of his coffee and had a sudden thought...

"Say, if you're so unhappy with the way the department handles the press, why don't you give me a hand with the press conference in about a half hour? That way you could keep an eye on what they're actually getting and maybe answer a few questions yourself?"


Fucked if he was going to let this asshole shake him up.

 

[Tseranc]

“Ya know, I would just love to bail you out of that conference, and make sure the press is kept in check, however, I am under rather…specific…orders to not interact with the press in anyway. Orders both from my department head back at the Bureau, and your Chief. Seems my personality is a bit abrasive for public speaking….who knew?”

He took a sizable gulp out of his replenished cup….at least the kid knew his pecking order, and refilled it…he had that much going for him.

“Get me the reports, get an office or conference room – one that locks – and lets start up this bad boy from the beginning. Maybe fresh eyes from someone straight from school, all the rules and regulations they say I ignore still fresh in his ears will do us good.”


“Best get to your conference Detective…I’m sure you’d hate to keep the press waiting. Just let me know when those files are ready for me to review, specifically the coroners report.”

He handed Martin a card with his cell phone number on it, “Call me, I need to find a hotel and take a damned shower.”

 

[Steiner]

Martin nodded as the FBI agent left the room. Christ! This was going to be tough - a department that was clearly jaded and worn down from the work. A boss more worried about perceptions than progress. A Federal Agent who hated the work, the case, the department and more specifically Martin.

He stood, grabbed the case notes and walked back to Marc's cell, sticking his head through the door.

"Sorry to be delayed gentlemen, Federal Business. Now - how can I help you?"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Samantha woke with a start. She ran to the bathroom and threw up what little she had in her gut. When the dry heaves passed she sat against the side of the bed and buried her hands in her hair. Morning was approaching and she had awoken from a horrible night mare. She had dreamed of Deb and Brian, their lifeless bodies displayed in grotesque manners. She pulled herself up and stepped into the shower. The water flowed over her and she welcomed every spray that hit her skin.

When she was finished she fixed herself a glass of tea and set about answering phone calls. She explained to her friends and family and to her shock she was told to turn on the morning news. She did.

There her picture and Marc’s was plastered all over the news and a promising press conference was being expected any minute. Fear shot through Sam and she wondered what was going to happen when she tried to step out of her and Marc’s apartment. The answer came from a large bang on her door.

She jumped, unsure if she wanted to answer it.

She did and then quickly shut it. The throng of reporters filled the hallway and she trembled in fear. She wasn’t going to be leaving the apartment until it was time to go and then she was going to have to break down and get either her lawyer or a police escort.

It was going to be a long day for her.

 

[Tseranc]

Bruce checked into a Holiday Inn express; they had governments rates and it was nice enough in case Shelly ever did come down to see him. Personally he didn’t give a shit, so long as it had a bed, toilet and shower, but once women were in your life, shit got more complicated.

He tossed his suitcase on the low dresser, not one intent to unpack it, and headed for the shower. 30 minutes later her emerged and saw the welcome sight of the large bed.

9:00 AM. Shelly would probably be up. Fuck if it made any sense to him, but he knew if he didn’t call her, tell her what hotel he was in, and that he made the trip alright, then he would be in deep shit. Again.

“Damnit!” He muttered, as he grabbed his cell phone and dialed her number…. maybe he’d get lucky – she’d be out and he’d just leave a quick message.

Maybe…

 

[southern_pixie]

Shelly had tried desperatly to forget Bruce since he had left her that night. She had been keeping hersrlf "busy" but still found that when she thought abut Bruce she got that farmiliar dull ache between her legs that told her that she was not over him.

She had just sat down for her breakfast - double strong coffee and a superking menthol, when her phone rang.

She really didnt want to answer it but she couldnt help herself.

"hello" she questioned down the line listening to its slight crackle through the pause

 

[jushorny]

Jordan Whittaker & Hollander

Hollander seemed to be in a hurry as he entered the windowless cell, his eyes first on me and then on my lawyer. I wasn’t sure if his curt manner was a good thing or not. What did he mean by federal business, did he mean the FBI was involved in this too? That could not be good for me.

Matthew Whitaker began going over with Hollander the evidence, pointing out how each and every bit could have been placed by the real killer. While there may be no argument that Marc’s DNA was present at the crime scene, it was obvious to him that both Marc and Samantha were being framed.

Not letting the officer comment until he was through with his diatribe. Clearly, he continued, a little disagreement in a restaurant would not lead anyone to murder. Clearly the authorities could see through this ruse and had better get working on a different angle if they intended to find the real killers.

 

[Steiner]

"Well, you know, there IS another perfectly reasonable explanation for all that evidence. That your clients left it at the scene. I'm sorry, I've got NO evidence of a conspiracy to corrupt the course of this investigation."

But even as he said it, the wheels were turning in his head. There WAS something a little TOO cut and dried about this case. Too much evidence. Too many types in too many places.

"Why don't you tell me a couple of things, eh? Who could collect the samples we found, and why would they frame you and Samantha? Mister Whittaker, I'm going to subpoena your client so he can't leave town. Then I'm going to check up with associates of the other victims to see if there's a similar link with your client as our latest victims have. At the same time I'll ask the lab to check the DNA evidence again for signs it was tampered with or planted. I'm going to ask the chief to avoid charging both Samantha and Marc until that investigation is concluded. Depending on what the chief says and I find I'll have to charge your little friend here with the Murders unless we can find some big holes in the evidence. Now - there's a press conference in five minutes, so you'll really have to excuse me."

 

[Tseranc]

Shit, she answered.

“Hey there Babe, how are ya doing? I just called to let you know what hotel I am staying at, and that I got here alright. It’s the Holiday Inn express, pretty nice rooms….you should come down and see it sometime.”

He didn’t even know how or why that last part slipped out….but it had and he cringed. Oh, he wanted her to dome down, the sound of her voice alone was already giving him a chubby, but he didn’t necessarily want to make a romantic getaway out of a murder investigation.

Or really make a romantic getaway at all. But women were needy like that. They only went along with the idea of a good booty call so long until it had to become a ‘relationship’ – usually without the man being notified of this change in status.

Well Bruce knew the change had occurred, and he now had to dance to that tune as best he could to keep the part he wanted. The sex. She was good, really good. One of those girls that were a little shy about it, they didn’t know what amazing lovers they were. Bruce loved that type…mainly because the ones who knew how great they were didn’t stick around to put up with him.

“So how’s your morning going up there? Anything special planned before work tonight?”

There, he did it. He pretended to be interested. That had to be major brownie points!

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Jennifer Blumquist ... the NPC reporter.

“Five minutes,” the whispered words reached Jennifer’s ears. She smirked. “That meant ten minutes.”

She pulled out her tape recorder and slipped the black cord around her neck. She was itching to ask her questions.

If the “paid” contacts she had in the Station were telling the truth, the little librarian of Plainsfield was the accused along with some construction boy toy.

She’d knew of the Librarian. She was often there when Jen was picking up her nieces from the Kid’s Story Time.

It took all kinds to be a killer.

The announcement that the Officer’s were ready filled her with a sense of belly rolling excitement. She loved stringing cops up and catching them in little webs of foolishness.

 

[southern_pixie]

Shelly tried to hide the excitement in her voice when she reailised it was Bruce.

"i took some vacation to get some things done aound the apartment so im not at work tonight or for the next 10 days, i could come to Plainfield today if you are not to busy with your Murder case"

Shelly backed off not wanting to scare Bruce away by seeming over pushy she wanted to be mad at him for leaving her but there was something about his voice that made that ache between her legs thump along with her heartbeat, he seemed more genuine.

"Bruce?" she asked down the phone waiting for him to agree to her coming to Plainfield.

 

[Tseranc]

“10 days, wow.”

Wow indeed….he hadn’t even gotten started yet and she took leave. What the hell was wrong with this woman?!

“I haven’t slept yet – need to catch a few hours then get started. It’d be great to see you babe, but give me a day or two to get into this. These clowns down here don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground…such a damned mess.”

He signed.

“I’m sorry for venting, why don’t you come down tomorrow, or at the very earliest come save me from myself tonight. You should enjoy your days off, and this piss pot of a town isn’t exactly a tourist attraction.”

 

[southern_pixie]

Shelly felt like she had just pushed the wrong buttons with Bruce. She knew he wanted to see her but there was something in his tone that made her pause. Had she been too over powering too needy for his affection, deep down she knew she was.

"look, why dont i give you time to get settled, i really do need to get somethings done and that is truly the reason i took time off (and to try to forget you, she thought to herself) why dont i come come over in a day or two by then you should have a day off and you cans show me the sights and bright lights of Plainfield"

 

[Steiner]

Before entering the Press Room, Martin checked his teeth (nothing stuck on them) his face (nothing stuck on THAT) and his hair. His hair especially had to be neat enough for him to look disciplined and natural enough that he looked like a regular guy who was too damned busy to brush his hair every five minutes.

Phew. He looked fine.

Grabbing his folder he walked out to take the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming all the way out here. Okay, as you can imagine I'm running to deadline and I know you all are too, so I'll keep this short."

Martin glanced briefly at his notes.

"As some of you are aware, about 18 hours ago we brought two Plainfield citizens in for questioning about the dreadful murder up at the Snyder residence. There are press packs for you to take and we would remind you that no 'fact' can be considered such unless it comes from that briefing pack. Please refrain from speculation if you can." he smiled pleasantly.

"Now, about the people we brought into custody. One of them, Plainview librarian Samantha Cordial has been released with no charges to answer. Marc Jordan, the second person, is still in custody at this time - although he too has not been charged with any specific offences at this time."

Martin looked a little sterner.

"I know there's been some theorising as to whether these two murders are in any way connected to the serial killer going by the name of Daddy's Little Girl. At this stage we have no reason to believe that they are and, whilst nothing is being ruled out at this time, we would warn against dangerous speculation."


He smiled out at the press.


"Now, do we have any questions?"

 

[Tseranc]

“That sounds like a plan baby, I can’t wait. I’m gonna go pass out, you have a good day, alright?”

He mindlessly responded to anything else she had to say, his body on auto pilot headed for the bed. Once she was of the phone, his head hit the pillow and nothing else mattred. He was asleep almost instantly.


He awoke with a start, immediately thankful it had only been a dream. In his slumber he dreamt Shelly had finally left his sorry ass, realizing that he’d never stop drinking, or settle down again. They might both have their issues, but he dreamt she finally realized how much better she could do, and never looked back.

Only a dream.

“Fuck, now I have nightmares about being alone? I’m goin’ fucking soft,” he uttered to himself. It had only been 4 hours, but that would have to do. He quickly dressed, checked his weapon before holstering it under his left arm. On his way to the station he stopped at a local doughnut shop for some coffee. One in his car he added little ‘Irish’ to that from a flask he kept in his jacket.

“Ah, that’s the stuff.”

He was on his second cigarette by the time he reached the station. Maybe that kid Martin what’s-his-name had finally gone to bed. Woods wanted to sit alone reviewing the evidence for a bit…and more importantly that brat kid would likely not keep mum if he caught Bruce spiking his coffee at the office.

Damn Kids.