Can You Protect Them: Federal Paranormal Unit

by Sheri Lyn

  Can you

  Protect

  them?

  A Federal Paranormal Unit Story

  Sheri Lyn

  Jennifer Wedmore

  Can you Protect them?

  Federal Protection Unit

  Copyright 2019 Sheri Lyn, Jennifer Wedmore

  Published by MT Worlds Press, Inc.

  Winter Springs, FL 32708

  http://mtworldspress.com

  Cover Art by Glowing Moon Designs

  Formatting by Celtic Formatting

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  http://mtworldspress.com

  He was an ordinary guy, who had unusual desires, ones that would dub him a serial killer. Unlike most, he decided to act on his whims. The media dubbed him the Professor, it fit. He was determined to learn new things; stuff others would balk at. The Cops and FBI upped the bets when they caught his trail.

  Detective Remington Conahan was a little jaded and a lot dedicated. When the first body is found, he is called because everyone knows he will give her the justice she deserves. No one's life is worthless to him.

  Grayson Knox is the newest member to join the Federal Paranormal Unit. When he gets a call from an old friend that a witch was killed and there is a threat of a new serial killer, he agrees to help with the investigation. What he didn't expect to find was a man who made him lose sight of why he was here.

  When evil masquerades as a regular man and travels the country, can anyone protect them?

  Dedication

  Sheri Lyn and I have amazing street teams. They encourage us, they support us and are always there for a laugh. To Sheri Lyn’s Smut Bunnies and Jennifer’s Posse of Peeps… all we can say is thank you!

  To JC Layne, Faith Ann Bates thank you for reading through and giving us your honest opinions.

  Thank you to Belinda Kilby and Michele Zoutes for naming the professors real name.

  To you the reader for taking a chance on us. You are the best!

  As always to our family, Patti, Kristi, Paul and the kids. Love you guys. Couldn’t do this without you!

  And to all those who’ve asked who’s the good twin…. I guess now we know.

  One

  It started like any other random thought; he wasn’t sure what made this one different though. What made him decide to act on it. Lying in bed, next to the woman he picked up on the street last night, he thought how chilled his hands were. It always made him think of that Sci-Fi movie where the guy cut the animal's stomach open and crawled inside to survive the snow storm. What would it feel like to bury his hands in a body? Not like a mouth or another cavity, but slide them into a stomach. How much pressure would he need to exert to rip the skin, would he break a finger before the skin gave away? Would the fat be hard to push through? Would the blood trickle out or gush out? How long would it take for the person to bleed out?

  He watched enough crime shows to know prostitutes were often overlooked and most didn’t care if one went missing. He or she wouldn’t be easily noticed unless too many in one area disappeared. Why not find out the answers to these questions? He didn’t see any reason not to. It wasn’t that he wanted to kill her, or that he was compelled by some unknown reason. It was scientific; he wanted answers. Not that he really needed to rationalize his reasoning, no one would know it was him, and he just didn’t care.

  He looked around his hotel room, one of those pay by the hour, low budget rooms, faded wallpaper, cheap sheets and the odor that never really went away. He could kill her here, but what if the clerk remembered him? He’d looked at her a lot so he might remember her at the very least. See, he could think and plan ahead; he wasn’t one of those random thrill killers. He laughed at himself, already imagining a conversation with the cops when he got caught. He wasn’t stupid; one day he would be arrested. But, why not experiment and try new things in the meantime?

  So the hooker got to live for another day. He had to plan to hide his tracks as best as possible for as long as possible. Starting with going to the bank to withdraw cash here and filling his gas tank before leaving town. He would drive a couple of states away, find a woman and kill her. He would pay cash for anything he bought on his drive, and his car was older, so no GPS to track. Then he would go a few more states, get more cash and go somewhere else completely random.

  That was his key. Random. Nothing predictable, not his victims, not his route and not his method of killing and disposing of the bodies. The more he planned, the more his dick swelled. He was a bit excited about the thought of killing.

  He had an extra hundred on him, so might as well fuck the slut one more time. It could be his second gift to her, the first being her life.

  ****************

  After roughly an eight hour drive, he was in Alabama trolling for his first victim, having been in the Florida panhandle area earlier he figured it wouldn’t take long to get there and he was right. He was eager to find the answer to his questions and couldn’t wait any longer. He turned down a side street in one of the bigger cities. If you drove around long enough, you could find the slums in any town. The lower the income, the lower class people and the more crime you could find. It was a sad truth, but it helped him hunt tonight.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. Something about her literally glowed, and he wasn’t talking about a sign from God or an angel. Her skin actually let out a small glow, he had no idea what she was but she was unique, and now she was going to die. He turned down another street and parked his car; he didn’t want to take a chance anyone remembered it. It was nondescript, but you couldn’t be too careful. He got out and walked down the block to where she stood, and froze in his tracks for a minute, excitement flooding his system. He took a calming breath and moved toward her, trying to not draw attention to himself.

  “Hey baby, how much for a couple of hours?”

  The tramp turned and looked him up and down. He wasn’t against a woman using what she had to get by, but the look of contempt on her face pissed him off. Was she better than him because he wanted to pay for sex? She was selling it and therefore just as bad in his mind.

  “Hey, sugar, two hundred for an hour. No kinky shit though, that costs extra.”

  He didn’t care how much it cost; he wasn’t going to pay her anyways. “Perfect, my car is down the block.”

  She rolled her eyes and started walking toward the area he gestured to.

  “I just arrived in town; I don’t have a room yet. Is there somewhere you can suggest we can go?” He wanted seclusion, but he had some duct tape in his trunk so she wouldn’t be screaming loud enough for anyone to hear anyways.

  “Yeah, actually we aren’t too far from an empty lot, lots of trees and no one drives to the back. No lights either so completely private.”

  He smiled at her “Point the way love.”

  It only took a few minutes for them to arrive and he drove his car as far in as he could get. “I have a blanket in the trunk; I figured it would be more comfortable than these bucket seats.” Really he had duct tape and a knife, in case his hands didn’t work as he wanted. He also had the forethought
to line his trunk with a tarp to catch anything he didn’t want embedded in the carpet. But she didn’t need to know that. He chuckled to himself. Thank God she wasn’t a mind reader; she would be sobbing right now.

  “Sure, whatever. Just pay me up front mister.” He swore her words had the edge of a sneer in it. He was going to enjoy hurting her, hell he might rip out her vocal cords just to see if he could. Well if he knew what they looked like, he would have to Google that shit later.

  He got out of the car and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He counted out two hundred and handed it to her. “Don’t spend it all in one place.” He shut the car door and walked toward the trunk; he thought he heard her whisper “asshole.”

  Shaking his head, he popped the trunk and grabbed his knife, sliding it in his back pocket. It wasn’t anything big, just a normal switchblade he had since he was a kid. Then he grabbed the tape and a blanket, shut the lid and peered at her over the back of the car.

  “I am going to stretch the blanket out in front, just an added layer of privacy.” He walked around to the front of the car and started spreading it out, “Hey, darling, can you come grab the other side please.” When she walked by, he grabbed a rock on the ground, stood up and hit her hard enough to daze her but not knock her out. She landed on top of the blanket, and he smirked. Well if that ain’t perfect.

  He squatted down next to her and flipped her over. He grabbed the tape he had hidden under the blanket, wrapped it around her hands and then tore a piece off, to place across her mouth. She shook her head and started whimpering.

  “A bit slow on the uptake, aren’t you? Don’t worry this will hurt, a lot.”

  He scooted back and sat on his heels staring at her body. She was on the thin side, so he was worried it would be harder to pierce her flesh, but it was an experiment, so he was willing to try once.

  With a grin, he pulled her shirt up and her skirt down just a little. He really didn’t care to see her lady bits, just her fleshy stomach. He rubbed his hand across it and dug his fingers in just a bit. She whimpered and tried to squirm away from him. “Don’t make me tie your legs up.” He figured the best way to hold her was to straddle her thighs. That would limit her movements even more.

  He moved and put his hand back on her stomach. “Thanks for being my first experiment. I won’t ever forget you.” He curled his fingers into a claw and started pushing with all his weight. She screamed but it came out muffled, and he smiled. The tape worked well.

  **************

  He sat back and looked at his handiwork, yes this was much better than he expected. It didn’t go quite the way he thought it would, the skin was much tougher than he expected, but he got the answers he’d been searching for. He stood up and wiped his hands off on the blanket, and tossed the sides over her body. He wanted her to be found, and this was not the place for it. He picked her up, wrapped the blanket around her a bit more and walked back to his trunk. With her slung over his shoulder, he pulled his keys out, opened the trunk and dropped her inside.

  He looked around to make sure he got everything and spotted the tape; he couldn’t leave that behind. One day they will piece the ragged ends together and see his handiwork at its fullest. With any luck, it would be the only piece of evidence that ties them all together.

  “Thank you again, ma’am, I regret to inform you… your sacrifice was in vain. I didn’t yield the answers I expected so I have to try again. Maybe a heftier body frame, more fatty tissue would be easier. Anyways, thanks.” He shut the trunk and walked around to grab the tape and climb in the car. He pulled out and started driving, he wasn’t sure where to drop her body nor did he want to do it too early in the night. This couldn’t be just a random drop; he had to think it through. He knew the first kill, body and crime scene yielded the most clues to the cops.

  Ah, the cops, he really wanted to talk to them. Explain why he was doing this. He didn’t want to wait until he was discovered. He wanted to watch them flounder, search, and eventually one would be smart enough to catch him. That person would be his equal and deserve the recognition.

  He decided to find a place to clean up first, a rundown gas station with an outside bathroom would work. They typically didn’t clean them or lock them so it wouldn’t make any difference. After a few minutes of driving, he found the perfect place.

  He emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later wearing fresh clothes with no obvious signs of blood on him. Now he was on the hunt for a cheap motel; he wanted to write a letter to leave with the body. Maybe he would hang around for a bit and watch the action, very discreetly of course.

  He drove around a bit more, looking for the slummiest motel he could find. He got lucky when the clerk didn’t even look up as he paid cash. Just stared at the porn on his laptop, the moaning was quite loud.

  He drove around back and reversed into a spot with the trunk farthest from the building he could get. She wouldn’t be in there long enough to smell but better safe than sorry. He grabbed his bags and walked inside, straight to the table to write his love letter to the cops.

  Whoever gets this, my sincere apologies, I made quite a mess, and while it wasn’t my intention, I did learn quite a few things. Did you know the human body is quite amazing? I wanted to see if I could submerge my hand in the stomach of another person using just the force of my body weight. Would my fingers break before I got through the skin? The answer is no, but I thought they would. It hurt quite badly.

  Could my fingers pierce the skin? Possibly but it didn’t work on this body, maybe someone with more fat. That lead to my next question. How hard is it to push through fat, muscle, and tissue? Well, that I can answer. I finally cut her open but the least amount of layers I could. I then used my fingers to push through the fat; it was quite gross, much like chicken fat. The muscle I had to cut again and the tissue, well that was easy. I had always wondered if blood was hot when it first hits the skin, would it gush out or trickle? Well, the blood that welled up wasn’t but when I submerged my hand...yes that was warm. So toasty! Overall, I wouldn’t call this a flop.

  To answer your unspoken question… Why? I didn’t do this because something called me to it. I am not a psychopath, a sociopath maybe… I was never fully able to understand the difference or remember what they were. I didn’t kill her because she offended me (though she was rude before I killed her), and I don’t hate women. I was merely curious and wanted to experiment to find the answers.

  Consider me a man of science, not someone who theorizes but actually attempts things.

  This was my first kill, and I know you gather the most information from it. I am very curious to find out what you surmise about me. I won’t kill again here; this may be my only kill. I don’t know; I guess I have to see if I have more questions to figure out.

  Yours

  Yes, he thought, this will do nicely. He folded up the plain piece of paper and walked out to his car. It had grown quite late, and it was probably safe to dispose of her now. He popped the trunk and examined the sheet covered body. Where could he put the note to ensure it was found? Her underwear? No, they would say he had a fetish with woman’s genitals, so maybe just in the cup of her bra. Women always kept stuff tucked in there, and he imagined she did since she carried no purse and had no pockets. He gingerly unwrapped her and pulled her shirt up, he tucked it in her bra, wincing when the note scraped her skin. “I’m sorry, ma’am, didn’t mean any disrespect.” He pulled her shirt down, rewrapped her and closed the trunk. Now to find an alley with a dumpster close to full to drop her and watch.

  Two

  Remi

  “Detective Conahan,” A gruff voice called out from behind Remi startling him out of his thoughts.

  Remi turned and glared at the aging pot-bellied cop standing a few feet behind him with a smirk on his smug face. “What?” he snapped when the man continued to stand there without saying anything.

  “You got a body.”

  “Asshole,” Remi grumbled as he watched the sor
ry excuse of an officer waddle away cackling at the perceived slight he'd just given him. He turned back to his desk, mumbling under his breath as he began searching for his phone. Stupid thing was never within easy reach when he wanted it. He finally found it under a pile of case folders, how it got there since he hadn’t touched them in weeks, was beyond him.

  “Five missed calls, what in the hell!” He muttered to himself as he quickly scanned the call log and incoming text messages for information. Five calls in two minutes was a bit excessive he thought as he cleared the screen of the stupid icons that littered the top of the phone. Those things drove him insane; he hated clutter.

  “Conahan, I told you to get this shit cleaned up. Why does it still look like this?” Chief Walker bellowed from behind him.

  “It’s not a mess; I know exactly where everything is. It’s my filing system, and if anyone even touches one thing, I’ll know it.”

  Chief Walker cocked one eyebrow, “And that’s why I just watched you spend two minutes searching for your cell?”

  “That’s different; it’s a pain in the ass piece of technology that lives to make my life more complicated.”

  “That pain in the ass technology has been trying to notify you there is a body, and you’ve been assigned. Get off your ass and get to the scene.

  “I’m not up next on the rotation, Chief.”

  Chief Walker sighed and stepped closer, “I know, Pritchard is but, between you and me this isn't one he needs to take. He’ll …. just, please. Don’t fight me on this. Take the case, and I’ll pull you off the rotation for the next one, okay?”

  Remi nodded slowly in thought. Pritchard wasn’t a bad detective; he was just lazy and unfocused. “Where?”

  “Address is on your phone. Not the greatest of areas, not expecting anyone’s gonna be willing to talk down there either.”