Her late husband had gotten just what he deserved when that whore had choked the breath of life right out of him. She’d often wondered if it was an accident or if the woman had enjoyed seeing his bound body thrash against the wooden chair she had tied him to. She wished she could have seen his eyes bug out of his head as he pleaded unintelligibly for mercy through his gag. It would have been worth all the embarrassment she suffered when the details of his death made the front-page news write up. The bell on the door alerted her to a patron’s entrance.
She looked up to view a young woman with what appeared to be scratches on her face, though she had made a valiant attempt at trying to hide them. The woman’s tremulous voice pulled her from her observations.
“Hello, I’m looking for Elaine Thompson.”
“I’m Elaine Thompson. What can I help you with, dear?”
She would never forget the look on the young lady’s face as she answered. “I think you might be my birth mother.”
Chapter Thirteen
Agent Turner opened the trunk so his partner could throw in a couple of overnight bags. They both wanted to make sure the bags, and their personal relationship, remained hidden from colleagues. She slammed the trunk and made her way to the passenger side of the car to get in.
She eyed him intently as she spoke, “This isn’t me moving in, David.”
“It’s Agent Turner,” he interrupted her, meeting her gaze.
“This isn’t me moving in, David,” she purposely repeated before continuing. “This is just keeping a few extra items at your place, nothing more, nothing less.”
“It really doesn’t matter because I already sent my assistant out shopping for you. I’m going to make sure you have everything you need to stay with me. I like having you around.”
“You are incorrigible, Agent Turner.”
“When it comes to you I am,” he answered.
“Okay, you win this round.”
His smile lit up not only the small space of the car, but her mood as well. In turn, she gave him her biggest, most genuine smile back. They gave each other a light heartedness that was truly a rare and special thing to enjoy, given their dark occupation. The job they worked could be an overwhelming force of darkness that hung heavy over the average agent but David and Rene weren’t average. They were two people who had found a way to deal with the horrors they witnessed on a day-to-day basis. Neither was willing to let the other go and risk losing the one bit of happiness they had found in their lives.
“Okay, we are headed to our informant’s house to get her set up on this chat room site.”
“Do you think she’ll do it?”
Agent Turner’s face turned impassive and his eyes went cold. “She doesn’t have a fucking choice.”
Yes, there was a big difference between the FBI agent at work and the sub at home. Being a sub didn’t make him weak in the least. In fact, it gave him strength and power. All he was doing when he submitted to Rene was allowing her to rid him of the toxins he faced day in and day out on the job. He was damn good at what he did and Rene was glad to have him as a partner. She would have his back to the death if needed and the same thing went for her.
They entered a seedy neighborhood in the west end, pulling up alongside a yard that was strewn with beer bottles and trash. There was a rabid looking dog tied out front that snarled and growled, pulling against his short leash as they made their way up to the door.
They looked up in time to see an older woman in a tattered dress meeting them at the door. She began answering their question before they were even able to ask.
“She ain’t here. She’s out in them damn streets.” The woman nodded towards Eighteenth and Wilson, the stroll closest to her house.
The woman continued talking, “You know her best friend got killed. Some of ‘em is sayin’ her pimp, Reginald, did it but I think it’s that serial killer runnin’ loose, killin’ all these girls. I told her she’s going to end up just like her friend. She sashayed out of here in slutty clothes like she didn’t have a care in the world. I don’t know what it’s goin’ to take to wake that girl up to how dangerous these streets are.”
“Well, we’re going to look for her on the stroll. Tell her to call us if she gets back before we find her.” Agent Turner held out a card towards the woman and she just walked away muttering, “Hell, she’s a snitch. She’s got your number in her cell phone.”
Agent Turner was shocked to find out his informant’s mother knew she was a snitch, but not much was kept secret in the streets. Even less could be kept hidden from the all-seeing eyes of a mother.
The agents made their way back to the car to go look for their informant. Agent Turner heard his partner as she spoke under her breath as if she had sympathy for the prostitute’s plight. “A girl growing up like that doesn’t have much of a chance, not with that many odds against her.”
Elaine placed a cup of coffee in front of Lisa and sat down in the library’s small kitchenette.
“I knew this day would come. How did you find me?”
“My husband’s a cop and I hacked his computer. It seems that he knew about you before I did, though he didn’t bother to tell me. I just guessed he knew who you were when he spewed out your name in a fit of drunken rage one day. I got curious after he let it slip and, after I got on his computer, I found you through some files that he had.”
Elaine’s hand reached over to cover that of her daughter’s. “It was never a case of me not wanting you. Your father made me do it. I didn’t argue because I believed it would be safer for you; he was abusive.”
“I know all about abuse,” Lisa stated as she turned towards her mother and removed the sunglasses she had been wearing up until this point.
“You’ll stay with me,” her mother insisted, willing to do anything to try and make up for her past decisions.
“It isn’t just me now.”
“I have grandchildren?” Elaine beamed.
“A grandson. Yes.”
“He’s more than welcome. I have an extra bedroom and there is no way I’m taking no for an answer.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Mother. I’m ready to leave. If I don’t, I fear I’ll kill him.”
“If I don’t first,” was the only reply her mother gave her.
Chapter Fourteen
Agent Turner and Rene sat in their car on a darkened side street and talked to their informant. Rene grabbed her phone and turned on the interior light so she could see well enough to make a fake profile for the girl who would be undercover in the online chat room they needed to infiltrate.
“Just scoot down in the seat,” Agent Turner instructed the young girl, who sat smacking on gum in the backseat as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Rene talked as she worked on setting up the profile, though she doubted the girl was paying attention to anything but ogling her partner. She pushed away the compounded irritation of knowing the girl was checking David out and the sound she was making, smacking on that wad of gum in her mouth.
She sounds like a fucking cow. She knew she was being irrational, hating the girl for the crush she clearly had on her partner. She knew David had no interest in the prostitute but it would be a cold day in hell before Rene even let her try her luck. She had mentally marked her territory and would obstruct any chance of another female even getting near him. Maybe moving in with him wasn’t such a bad idea. She just wouldn’t let him know that she was contemplating doing so.
The informant grabbed the gum in her mouth and twirled it around her finger as she batted her eyes at Agent Turner. “I don’t know what to say in a chat room. I might need to have coffee with you at an internet café so you can school me.”
Rene jerked around in her seat with her green eyes flashing. “That won’t be necessary!”
“I don’t have coffee with informants without my partner present. It keeps things professional. You understand, I’m sure,” Agent Turner said, hoping it would not only clarify that
he had no intentions of doing so, but it might keep him from getting his ass beat by Rene as well.
“Too bad,” she replied with a pout as she sat and stared at him while toying with the gum in her mouth, trying her best to look seductive.
Rene grabbed her business card and wrote on the back of it as she spoke, “Your profile name is Angel” of death she thought but didn’t say. It won’t be necessary for you to chat online; I’ll be doing that. It will be necessary for you to meet with the suspect and I’ll call you when I set that up.”
The informant gasped and fanned her face in a melodramatic manner. “I could be in danger?” David quickly moved his arm off the back of the seat as she reached for it.
Rene was the one to answer with a hint of sarcasm, “I highly doubt you have any need to worry. The unsub is a meek, mild-mannered librarian.”
“Unsub?”
“Unknown subject,” Rene barked out, trying her best to keep it professional and not be too much of a smartass.
“That’s all we need for now,” Agent Turner informed her, his voice laced with indifference.
“Okay,” she said swinging her legs around and getting out of the backseat. “Just call me if you need anything, Agent Turner.”
“Agent Murphy will call you if it’s necessary,” he retorted.
“Well… okay then.” She didn’t even try to hide her disappointment.
Rene waited until she turned the corner from where their car was parked. She reached up to turn the overhead light off and caught her partner by surprise when she roughly fisted a handful of his hair, forcing him in towards her face where he could clearly see her pinched expression. Her voice came out in a vicious growl as she addressed him, “If you ever call that bitch, or any other woman, I’ll beat your ass bloody with a cane. You would do well to take my threats very seriously. I have a sadistic streak, boy, and believe me when I tell you that you don’t want to be on the receiving end of it!” Her lips crashed down on his violently. Their teeth clashed as she roughly raped his mouth. Her hand reached down, firmly gripping his cock that was so hard from her rough treatment of him, that she was tempted to sit on it and milk him of every drop of come in his balls. She would definitely be going home with him when their shift ended.
Lisa tucked her son into the bed of the woman who was her mother by blood, but a stranger by all other accounts. She hadn’t known what to expect when she finally broke down and made her identity known. She had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised when the woman had offered her home to her as a haven from the danger of her husband.
She smoothed the blanket over her son as he squirmed, trying to get comfortable in the bed they would be sharing. She knew she was safe here because her husband had no idea that she knew the identity of her birth mother. She had actually been searching her husband’s computer for evidence of the affair she knew he was having when she found the files regarding her adoption. She never breathed a word to him about what she had found. Years of his abuse had taught her to be sneaky in order to survive. She knew all his well thought out hiding places. She knew who his mistress was. Hell, she even knew about his financial records that he had gone out of his way to hide from her. It was how she’d found out that he had a million dollar life insurance policy taken out on her. She wondered how long it would take for him and his mistress to come up with a solid plan to kill her. That is, if they hadn’t already.
Her need to survive wasn’t about just her anymore. It was about that precious, little boy tucked away in a stranger’s bed. After all, that’s what the woman was to them—a stranger. That little boy sleeping was her hero. He was the one who had not only given her the strength to leave her abuser, but also the courage to find the mother that her father had robbed her of years ago. Oh, she had looked him up too. She was beyond shocked when she found out that he had been killed in some seedy motel by some trite hooker while he played at his kinky sex games. How embarrassing it must have been for the woman who had been so subjugated by the man that she had given her own daughter away at his behest.
Lisa spoke softly to her son as she gently rubbed his cheek. “I would never give you away, my precious, little blessing. You’re the only good thing that has come out of my marriage. You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving you like she left me.”
She turned the small lamp on the nightstand off and made her way over to her side of the bed. She would be asleep in a matter of moments, feeling something that hadn’t felt in a long time—safety.
Rene stood behind David whispering threats in his ear as he stood, stretched out and tied to the posts, at the end of the bed. She had spread him out, up, and open but she had purposely kept him standing so she had access to all the parts of his body she planned on tormenting.
“Do you know why I enjoy inflicting pain upon you, David? That question is rhetorical in nature but I’ll be nice tonight and fill you in. Your pain enables me to feel. I have a tad bit of an addiction—a nasty little sadistic addiction to inflicting pain on others. To put it simply, I like to hurt handsome, attractive, strong, and in control men. Will you let me feel through you? Judging by how hard your cock is right now, I’m going to take that as a yes.”
The crop she swung through the air barely made a whisper of a sound but the bite it produced on his skin was effective in eliciting the groans she longed to hear. The sounds he forced through the ball gag placed between his lips were music to her ears. She spoke in between strikes, “I’ll be going through your phone and I better not have so much as a suspicion that you’re talking to any other bitch. I want every number of every woman you’ve ever fucked out of that phone.”
She struck down on his back hard, relentlessly unleashing the brutal bite of the crop to make her point. Over and over, she swung down on his flesh, now reddened with small squares from the crop. When she felt she had made her point, she untied him, laying him down on the bed and commanding him to lie flat with his arms and legs spread. She left him without restraints and made certain to remove the ball gag that had been in his mouth long enough that he had started drooling.
She leaned her nude body over him, purposely brushing a dusky rose nipple against his lips. She commanded, “suck, boy,” and he latched on like a baby animal sucking a tit for milk.
She leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I want to hear you beg, slave. You’re going to beg me to come and I may or may not allow it, but one thing is for damn sure. You better not without my permission.”
She made a show of spreading her pussy lips open and very slowly sliding down on him. “Such a meaty cock and it’s all mine.” She watched him as his head rolled to the side. She reached up and viciously grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Look at me,” she yelled at him as she slid up and down on him, rubbing her clit with her finger and never once breaking eye contact.
“Who do you belong to, David?”
“Oh fuck, ahh Mistress, oh you feel so good. You, only you, you fucking own me, girl.”
“Oh yes, I do. I most certainly do.” Her movements became more frantic as her core throbbed in need, taking her over the edge. “Come for me, David,” she moaned, riding him with vigor and milking him of all the pent up desire he held for her.
She fell down on his tight chest, rubbing her hands through his hair and crooning assurances in his ear that he was all she would ever need in a sub.
They took a moment to regain their strength before jumping in the shower and starting a pot of coffee. There was still a lot of work to do and the night was young.
David sipped at his coffee before he leaned down to kiss the most beautiful woman in the world and handed her the cup he had brewed especially for her.
“You make me so happy.”
“Well that’s good, David, because I’m not the kind of girl you can get rid of. I own your ass.”
“And it feels so good to be owned by you, Mistress.”
“Good boy,” she nuzzled back into his face that he had buried in her hair.
/> “I love that long, red hair of yours. Please don’t ever cut it.”
“There’s no chance of that. Now, let’s go see if our librarian has logged in. It’s hard to believe that a middle-aged, mousy librarian is our cold blooded killer, isn’t it?” she asked, easily switching into work mode.
“I’ve seen some crazy shit in the eight years I’ve been a special agent. It’s exactly what I told Herb; there is no rhyme or reason to the way a serial killer thinks. If they believe they have been wronged, or if they grew up with a fucked up set of parents, there’s no telling what they’ll do. I don’t know, Rene. There just isn’t any science to it. The professionals have extensively studied it and whether it is nature or nurture, they can’t conclusively say one way or the other; there just aren’t any absolutes. As soon as one promising study comes out, another is right behind it, disproving it. The one thing I have learned, despite the fact that science can’t back it up, is to listen to my gut.”
Rene listened as her partner talked. She was curious to see if The Librarian was in the chat room.
“She’s here,” Rene informed him. She began phishing to see if she could get a conversation started with her.
“Hello,” she typed in.
“Hi, are you new?” one of the regulars asked.
“Yes, my doctor gave me the site address and an invite.”
The Librarian immediately bit, “Would that be the Avenger?”
“Yes…”
“You must have been hurt pretty badly to be referred by him.”
“Yes, I’m terribly embarrassed to admit that I had to be hospitalized after my last beating.”
“Oh honey, you’re at the right place to get support from people who have been in the same situation and understand what you’ve been through.”
The Profilers Page 4
