by Jaden Wilkes
“My mom wasn’t always a drug addict. Not always. I remember a time when she was a normal person. She was sweet and kind, beautiful and strong. She would sing to me at night and help me learn to read. She was such a great mother, in fact, that she watched other people’s children as well. I can’t remember how old I was exactly, but at one time, we lived in a big mansion. My mom was the live in nanny and I was allowed to live with her in the house. It was like living in a castle and most days, I remember playing outside pretending I was a princess waiting for my prince.”
“Did you find him?”
“Hmmm?” I become so lost in my memories of the past, I almost didn’t register his question.
“Your prince. Did you ever find him?”
A chill ran down my spine at his words and I wasn’t sure why. Memories flooded me, images and thoughts that seemed foreign. They were fluid and not quite right, something that I’d long ago forgotten that was once again taking root in my mind’s eye.”
“No.” I closed off suddenly and no longer remained in the present with Jude. A nightmare was taking hold; dark clouds rolling in like a distant storm. I was helpless to it. My body began to shake and Jude held me tighter. He was my only solace at that moment and with him, I remembered.
“No, I found something much worse. The boy my mom watched, he was older than me by a few years. I can’t see his face and I don’t recall his name, but there was something about him that frightened me.” Like a phantom, the boy in my memories escaped me, appearing and then disappearing just before I could grasp his image.
“Something happened, something bad and my mom was fired as a result. We were kicked out in one night and I remember sleeping in shelters with her for a few weeks before she could find someplace to take me. She was never the same after that. After finding a new job cleaning houses, she was able to move us into an apartment. She wasn’t happy anymore and she stopped smiling. It wasn’t until I was older that I discovered she’d attempted to escape her own life through alcohol and drugs.”
“What happened with the boy?” His voice was cautious, on edge because of something I couldn’t quite understand. I hoped he was just feeling protective, that he was angry at the memory more than he was at me.
“I don’t know, Jude. All I know was that whatever he did, it was something that changed my life…and not for the better.
Chapter Seven
Donovan Blake
FBI
“Thank you for your help, Ma’am. If there is anything else, we’ll be in touch.”
The matronly looking manager of the Waffle House smiled at me revealing the fake gold cap inserted over her left front tooth. I cringed at the sight, wondering why any person would choose a metallic color and wear it so proudly.
“I hope what I told you will help. I feel so bad that Noreen went missing. I hope she turns up, although I highly doubt it with that crazy killer running around. Are you all close to catching him? We can’t keep living like this.”
Emily stepped up to field the woman’s panic while I inched away discreetly. Reaching the front, I opened the door and stepped outside. The air was wet with a foggy drizzle, the rain in this town was seemingly endless. I wondered if the planet, itself, was attempting to wash away CK’s evil deeds.
Emily stepped outside a few minutes later, simply nodding at me as she slipped around my body to head in the direction of the car. She was angry, I knew that by the guarded way in which she carried herself when she was near me. She never was good at hiding her emotions from my notice.
Once inside the dry car, she wordlessly clicked her seatbelt into place and focused her attention out towards the street beyond the windshield.
I couldn’t bring myself to start to the car. “How long are you planning on giving me the cold shoulder, Agent Chase?”
She didn’t need to look in my direction for me to know she was rolling her eyes.
“Like you don’t know, Agent Blake.”
Laughter escaped my lungs to hear the disgust in her voice; she hated referring to me with my professional name.
“I know several things that I’ve done that should have pissed you off; my question is simply which one angered you the most?”
A scowl crept over her face and I chuckled at the sight of it. “You shouldn’t display your emotions so easily, Agent Chase. A person in your position needs to hide her every thought. I don’t need an agent who’s transparent.
That got her attention. She head swiveled on her shoulders, her eyes locking to mine with all the heat and intensity of a raging fire.
“I didn’t appreciate the way you spoke to me in front of the other agents. Your lack of professionalism and respect…”
Catching her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I held her still and said, “I am nothing if not professional, Agent Chase. You of all people should know that, especially while considering the fact that your biggest problem with me is that I refuse to play Romeo to your pathetic fucking Juliet. I have no time for love, pet names or even fucking first names for that matter. The fact of the matter is that you are confusing my agreement to allow you to ride my cock with the idea that I care for you. What makes matters even worse is the fact that you are attacking my professionalism as a result of your misguided anger.”
They were spiteful words, spit from my lips without even a small hint of compassion or remorse. I needed to hurt her. She was getting too close and developing feelings for the situation between us. To me, it was a fun fuck every once in a while. I’d never intended anything more.
Her brown hair slapped around her face like a whip when she ripped her head to the side breaking my grasp and our eye contact. I’ll admit I expected tears. Most women couldn’t handle open rejection, much less when it was used to prove to the woman that she’d done something wrong.
“Just drive the car, Blake. I’m suddenly in the mood to be as far away from you as possible. Drop me off at the hotel and you can go meet Reynolds at Noreen’s house.”
Her voice was solid as a rock. With no hint of emotion, she’d blown me off completely. I’d be a liar to say I wasn’t impressed with the sudden control she had over herself.
Without another word, I started the car and drove the silent distance to the hotel. Dropping her off had been a relief, but before she could close the door, I called out, “Agent Chase.”
She turned to look at me with loathing hatred evident in her eyes. I laughed. Perhaps the control I’d earlier appreciated in her wasn’t as complete as I’d believed. She was still wearing her heart on her sleeve and I considered the fact that I’d made a mistake by including her on my team.
“I’ll be returning to the hotel in approximately two hours. I want the entire team gathered in the conference room when I get back.
“They’re out performing the tasks you assigned them…”
“Don’t give me excuses, Chase. I want the team here in two hours. You make that happen.”
Stepping on the gas, I laughed when the door of the car was ripped from her hand, slamming closed with the force of acceleration. I didn’t have to look in the rearview mirror to know that Emily stood on the curb, her eyes shooting daggers at my back window as I drove away. Two hours would be sufficient time for her to cool down and in that time, I’d focus on the case at hand. If I returned and she was still irate, I would consider replacing her with an agent who didn’t allow her personal feelings to get in the way of our investigation.
***
Two hours passed and in that time I’d managed to discover absolutely nothing about why CK had chosen Noreen as his next victim. Reynolds and two local detectives had gone through everything in her apartment searching for clues as to why two waitresses from the same dumpy restaurant had gone missing. As far as they could tell, Noreen was opposite in every way possible from what we knew about Ronnie.
Whereas Ronnie had come from a pathetic background, only landing herself in an even more pathetic life with Billy, Noreen appeared to have come from a good backgr
ound, but had chosen to live life on the wild side. With hair color that spanned every shade of the fucking rainbow, she’d cast aside the college and trust funds her parents had diligently squirreled away for her life in favor of a lifestyle living in a small efficiency apartment. When not working, she appeared to frequent local fetish clubs and would travel every so often to attend tattoo conventions and other comic book and horror conventions that were scattered across the country.
Strong-arming the conference room door so that it slammed open and caught the attention of the team, I strolled casually into the room with Reynolds directly behind me. Emily didn’t even bother to look up from where she sat and I smiled to think that, perhaps, the two hours had done her some good. As usual, I didn’t bother with pleasantries, choosing instead to bark out orders as quickly as I expected them to be followed.
“Agent Chase, please get the media on the line. I’ll be briefing them in one hour as to my findings regarding our perpetrator. Agent Ward, I want you to coordinate a team of local agencies to start scouring the Cascades for the bodies of both Veronica Lapierre and Noreen Hamilton. Agent Reynolds, I want you on camera with me in an hour.”
Reynolds took his seat and shot me the photogenic grin I knew would be useful on camera. Whereas I would be perceived as the tight-ass agent who only had a mind for the case, Reynolds would be more acceptable to the community as the friendly face of this investigation. As a result, I’d make him the contact point for the public.
“After contacting the media, Agent Chase, I want a tip hotline established so that we can provide that information to the public. I’m sick and tired of this bastard remaining one step ahead of us. It’s about fucking time we draw him out of whatever rock he’s hiding under. If we can get the public involved, that provides us with thousands more eyes and ears out there watching for CK.”
“And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?” Emily’s question ruffled my feathers a bit more than I would have liked. Following the news briefing, I’d be dealing with her continued displays of emotion.
My eyes locked on to hers and I grinned, noticing that she couldn’t hold my stare for long. “Let me worry about that, Agent Chase. At this point, the only thing you need to be worried about is why it is taking you so long to get up from your chair and follow my orders.”
***
The sound of constant firing camera shutters overpowered the stale night air. The sky was lit up by the flashing lights, every person squeezing in to get closer to the podium where I would soon be standing to advice the public about their resident serial. It was fortunate that the never-ending rain in the city had ceased long enough for us to hold the conference outside because I doubted the hotel lobby would have been able to handle the mass of the crowd that had developed on the sidewalk and had been pushed out onto the street. Roadblocks were quickly established diverting traffic away from the hotel.
“You’re on in one minute, Agent Blake.”
Kathy, our media correspondent, quickly reminded me of the time as she rushed past to interrupt a feud that was developing between the news cameramen vying for a front row position for the conference.
Reynolds was to my side and I was pleased that he’d taken the time to change into button down shirt and tie. Still wearing jeans, he wasn’t the poster child for the FBI dress code, but at least he would be taken more seriously wearing something other than the black t-shirts he preferred.
“You ready for this, Blake? I’m shocked you’re actually going to go through with it. It’s a risky fucking move.”
I considered his words for only a second before brushing them off and squaring my shoulders for what I was going to do. “The profile paints this man as overly arrogant, Reynolds. It’s about time we take away his status as something to be feared and reveal to the public his true shame. He hasn’t contacted the police or the media in an attempt to capture the spotlight. That tells me he prefers to remain in shadows, and if he’s hiding from us, then there is something about him that would be considered weak. It’s about time I put that weakness on public display for all to see. If nothing else, it will anger him enough to make him misstep…”
“There could also be more bodies popping up as a result…” Reynolds interrupted.
I turned to glance at the tight expression on his face. “I’m not concerned about additional bodies. Those are going to show up no matter what we do. But at this point, we need to show the public that we are dealing with an insecure castoff from society and we also need to make an effort to warn the public about their own activities until he is caught.”
“Five seconds, Agent Blake!” Kathy called out to me, still running around attempting to get the crowd under control.
Turning to Reynolds, I said, “Showtime.”
Walking at an even pace, Reynolds and I approached the podium and waited for the newscasters to take notice and settle down into a patient silence.
“Good evening, Ladies and Gentleman. As many of you know, I am FBI Special Agent Donovan Blake. Here with me tonight is a member from my team, Special Agent Marcus Reynolds. After I finish my presentation, he will remain behind to answer any questions you may have. I ask that you refrain from shouting out until I’ve completed what I have to say.”
Squinting my eyes, I glanced around at the anxious faces. Although they’d calmed to a point of rapt attention, the crowd still bumped shoulders in an attempt to squeeze even tighter against the well-lit podium.
“I’m sure you are all aware of a very real and immediate threat to the citizens of Seattle, Washington and the surrounding area. Over the course of several years, a killer has been living among us. He’s kept to the shadows for some time and as a result, his presence wasn’t discovered until just recently. He has been referred to in the media as the Cascades Killer, however I want to stress the fact that people should not believe that his moniker means he only kills in the Cascades area.”
Allowing the crowd time to take note of my warning, I paused a beat before continuing.
“I am holding this conference tonight to discuss and warn about a man for whom the local authorities do not have much information. My unit has been called into the investigation in an effort to establish a profile of the person we should be seeking. It is our hope that the information we give you tonight will be used in a diligent effort by the public to bring the Cascades Killer to justice.”
What I was about to tell the hordes of people that stood in front of me was against protocol. Typically these bits of information were kept quiet and away from public scrutiny, but this conference was more about angering CK than it was anything else. I didn’t beat around bushes either. I was a man who was all about the bottom line; there was no room for playing coy.
“I believe the man we are looking for is a white male between the ages of 25 and 35 years old. To date, we have not been able to procure a physical description, however, I can tell you that based on the CK’s methodology, I can almost guarantee that CK is impotent, meaning that he unable to achieve an erection or finish his desperate act to completion. As a result, he murders women to find some kind of physical release. He will appear agitated and possibly unkempt if seen in public. He will keep to the shadows and we do not believe he hunts during the day. Based on his choice in victims, I believe he is most likely unschooled, uneducated and lower class. To date, he has been preying on easy victims: prostitutes and waitresses, women who are often alone on the streets or in parking lots late at night. Due to his preference for simple targets, it’s obvious he lacks the charm and social skills necessary to attract victims of higher social status or victims of greater beauty. So far, his pattern has been to go for the low hanging fruit, so to speak. As a result I would consider him to be a consummate underachiever with a little man complex.”
Cameras flashed continually as I spoke and my heart raced to think that the man I was hunting might be watching the live broadcast.
“I’m asking the public to please remain aware of any strange men they know that
could possibly fit this description. We have established a tip hotline for which Agent Reynolds will be giving you the number once I’ve concluded. I advise all residents to remain indoors as much as possible in the evenings and for all persons to use a buddy system while walking the streets after sundown. Due to the fact that we have very little information regarding CK, I cannot stress enough that our profile is accurate only to the extent of what little pieces we know. Hopefully, as a result of this conference tonight, more information will be available in the near future.”
Turning from the podium, I motioned for Reynolds to step forward. He eyed me for a moment and leaned forward to whisper, “That’s it? That’s all your giving them?”
Whispering back, I responded, “I’m only here to piss off our killer. I’ll allow you to provide them with any additional information you deem necessary.”
Walking off, I ignored the shouted questions from the crowd. I had one other task to complete tonight and it was in the form of a spitfire brunette who hadn’t yet learned that sex and work were two very different playgrounds.
Chapter Eight
Jude
I crumpled up the newspaper and threw it across my desk. I stood up, paced back and forth, surveying my kingdom from the top floor of my office tower, and still felt red heat rise behind my eyes.
Pet had been intense, we’d lain together and touched each other like virgins, exploring and sharing in the single most intimate night of my life.
I’d come in to work this morning whistling. Fucking whistling. I’d never whistled a tune in my life, it was odd that I found myself whistling Beyoncé’s Single Ladies¸ but still. Pet did that to me, she made me…
