by Hadena James
I just needed a dose of humanity.”
“My humanity?” I could hear the smile in her voice.
“I’m knee deep in dead bodies. My killer is probably out hunting at this very moment. I’m tucked safely away in my hotel room waiting for another woman to die and my only thought is, I wish he’d hurry up. Another body means more clues.”
“Yep, sounds like you need a dose of something. I know you want to capture him, but sometimes, waiting is all you can do. No matter how bad it is. Have you gone through the case files?”
“Yes, they were unhelpful. I think the locals are holding back from us. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“They called you in.”
“Actually, no they didn’t. The FBI did because the agent in charge up here felt like he was also being kept out of the loop. He used a breach by a reporter to call us in. Can you believe some idiot reporter found the body before the locals?”
“That’s not good.”
“How was your day?”
“Knee deep in killers and trying to figure out what sort of deals could be made. I had one of your cases come across my desk today. He plead out for a life sentence in The Fortress, but he probably won’t last long in there. They are moving him to the secure ward, but sometimes, things happen inside that place. I imagine he will have a nasty accident or something,” I knew she was talking about a child killer that we had caught a few months ago. He had molested all the boys before slicing out their tongues and removing their eyes. She was right, he wouldn’t last long in The Fortress. A needle in his arm would probably be a blessing compared to what the serial killers would do to him, even in the secure ward.
“Do anything not work related?”
“I went and had dinner with your mom. She’s doing good. Worried about you. She said you hadn’t called in a week.”
“Yeah, I rushed from one case to another. I’ll call her when I have a few minutes.”
“You won’t wake her in the dead of night then?”
“It’s only 9:40 here,” I smiled at the phone.
“Have you felt the calm lately?”
“Yes, but not often.”
“That’s good.”
“I suppose.”
“It is, Aislinn, it means that just because you let your humanity slip, doesn’t mean you are out of control.”
“Do I really value animals more than people?”
“No, you just have a different attachment to them. If you really valued animals more than people, you’d be tracking down poachers, not serial killers. Can you imagine yourself tracking down poachers? You’d be the scariest game warden around.”
“I can’t imagine being a game warden.”
“I can see you as a game warden. You’d be like Ranger Smith, talking to the animals and trying to ignore the humans. You’d drive a supercharged ATV with machine gun turrets to take out multiple poachers at one time. Possibly anti-aircraft missiles to take down hunting blinds that were illegally put up.”
“Would I have to wear the tacky brown uniform?” I asked.
“Everyone has to wear the tacky brown uniform, but you could liven it up with dead lichen and the pinky bones of poachers.”
“Thanks Nyleena. I needed that.”
“Aislinn, you may not always be on the same level as everyone else, but you’re dark moments are fleeting. You aren’t Malachi or the killers you track down. You do value human life, even if you don’t understand the human condition as it applies to the rest of us.”
“Thanks, Nyleena. Go back to sleep.”
“Will do, try to sleep, Aislinn,” she hung up the phone.
The conversation had lasted less than ten minutes, but I was feeling somewhat better. Perhaps I couldn’t relate, but I did believe life to be sacred. It was part of what motivated me to do this job day in and day out.
I pulled out the case files to see if I could glean anything new from them.
Prey
It was five minutes past ten p.m. when he looked at the desk clock. His wife and daughter were asleep, had been asleep for almost an hour now. The anti-histamine he had slipped into his wife’s glass of wine and his daughter’s glass of tea had been very effective tonight. Sometimes it took longer to work than this, but by nine they had been hauling their asses up the stairs, too tired to watch the movie he had picked out for family night.
He had kissed Grace good night and told her to stop apologizing for missing the movie. The interaction with his wife had been more stilted. She had pulled her hair out of her bun and kicked off her shoes by the door. This had irritated him. Why couldn’t she undress in her own space like other women? He had given her a quick peck on the forehead before shooing her upstairs. He despised the woman. He only stayed because of Grace, but Grace was getting older now. She’d be moving out of the house before long, going off to college to follow in the footsteps of her parents.
Within minutes of both ladies disappearing from view, he had heard gentle snoring coming down the stairs. It floated to him and made his heart beat faster. That deed was done; it was time to go hunting.
His first stop was the restaurant where he had enjoyed a slice of pizza with his daughter and her friends the night before. Henry watched for almost twenty minutes and never saw the waitress. It was obvious that she wasn’t working tonight. This gave her a temporary reprieve. He would find her another night.
He wound down the road, blindly wandering the streets. He saw several police cars. Few took notice of him, they were used to his midnight wanderings. He’d been doing it long before the murders began. Usually when he had a tough case on his slab.
Henry was lost in his own thoughts when he saw US Marshal Aislinn Cain. She was standing outside her hotel room. The door was propped open with a chair and she was arguing with Dr. Xavier Reece. Smoke swirled around her head from the lit cigarette she held. He watched with fascination as Dr. Reece took the cigarette and crushed it out. She lit another one in clear defiance of him. He threw his hands in the air and shook his head.
She was dressed in pajamas. Oddly male in style, they were pin-striped red, black and grey, including a matching robe and slippers. The robe was tightly cinched around her waist. The pants and sleeves showed creases from being ironed or pressed. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, not a single hair out of place. Henry wondered how much hairspray it required to get her hair like that.
He drove past without them noticing him. Watching her interact with Dr. Reece had infuriated him. How dare she talk down to someone as accomplished as him? However, Aislinn Cain couldn’t be on his menu tonight. Maybe later, but not now. Now her death would be suspicious and he’d be at risk of getting caught. Someone might hear her.
There was someone else though. He had discovered her some time ago and had put her on the list for a later date. Her name was Ginny. She lived alone and taught fifth grade. But she was one of those teachers that students didn’t like. He knew because she had taught Grace in fifth grade and Grace had hated her.
Carefully, he drove past her house. The street was dark. Everyone tucked safely into houses against the night and him. That last made him smile. If only they realized they could never be safe from him.
He parked in the driveway. Miss Ginny Jacobs didn’t have many visitors, his car might be noticed, but it was unlikely. She was thirty-six, never married, no children. Henry crept around to the back of the house. He knew she hid a key back here in a potted plant. Reconnaissance was everything. He found the key and slipped in through the backdoor. As carefully as he could, he relocked the door.
Quietly he moved to the front door and unlocked it. He would go out that way. The hallway was filled with framed portraits of smiling people. If they knew his plans, it didn’t show on their faces. They smiled with serene happiness eternally frozen on their faces. It made him mad to look at those faces. But he had a secret, the pictures would smile for eternity, but the people in the
m would not. Come tomorrow or the next day, they would huddle in groups and weep. They would curse and ask the important question: why her?
He could hear her in the bedroom. She also snored. Light and quiet, almost high pitched, as if it was coming out of her nose and not her mouth. Even in the darkness he could feel her, feel her life. The hole of bitterness in him opened wider, sucked him down even further into misery and despair.
Carefully, he switched on the small flashlight he had brought with him. He was careful not to turn it on her face, knowing the sudden stab of light would wake her. She lay nude in the bed, the sight transfixed him. It wasn’t her nudity, but her beauty that caused him to pause. All his victims were beautiful while they slept. Their skin glowing under the beam of light, their hair let down for the night, innocent as they dreamed. It was these moments that made him catch his breath and just wait.
Finally, she moved, just rolling over, but enough to break his trance. Gently he placed the flashlight in his mouth and moved towards her. He was on her, his hands firmly placed over her mouth before she woke up. She kicked and fought against him. Her fingers dug into the fabric, trying to tear at his skin. She moved, trying to dig into his hands, but the leather gloves prevented it. The terror in her eyes filled him with joy. He loved that she was afraid of him. Slowly, she stopped fighting.
He let go. She was still breathing, not dead, but the lack of oxygen had caused her
