The blood was splattered to the victim's right in an upward position, proving Dexter Morgan's theory that the Killer was slicing the victim in upward motions starting from the victim's bottom left. He stood studying the blood splatters in between snapping photographs, he looked at it with almost a genuine appreciation for it until he was snapped back to his surrounding with a shake from his new detective sister, Deb. "He Bro." she stood to his right studying the body with a disgusted expression, "What a psychopath … Who could do this the people?"
Dexter looked down at his feet with a grin. He looked back up changing his expression as quickly as it came, "I don't know..." His voice was perfectly innocent, completely unsuspecting. He took one last picture and sealed the camera in his side bag.
"What's the blood tell you?" Joey Quinn asked while he strolled up from behind Debra to stand next to Dexter. He looked at Dexter a conflicted expression across his features. It was a mixture of pity and confusion. Why does he look at me like that? Does he pity me because of Rita's death? Oh, I hope not… It's been years. But he always looks at me with the same sad expression.
Dexter continued in a face that didn't express anything in particular, "Well the killer was slicing her in an upward position. Like this," he gestured with his hands, quite precisely, "And this tells me that this murder is related to the one that occurred last week."
"A serial killer?" Deb asked sighing. The last one had taken a lot out of her, she didn't care to deal with another.
"Yes." Dexter replied flatly.
"Are you sure," Quinn asked. "You could be-," he was cut off by a glare from Deb's direction.
"I am pretty sure." Dexter stated it again.
"Hey guys!" Vince yelled finally entering the crime scene from with under the yellow tape, "What'd I miss?"
"Well," Deb filled him in, "Dexter thinks we have a Serial killer on our hands."
"Wow, Dextress." Vince replied, kind of bored.
"Why were you late?" Quinn asked curious.
"Well these girls were-," Deb coughed.
"Never mind," she interrupted, not wanting to hear another nausea inducing story.
They discussed the case but Dexter's mind seemed far away. His mouth moved to answer questions and he nodded at some inquires, but he was not really there. He was out hunting, in his mind, for his next prey. He had been taking care of things with Rita's kids, but their grandparents had took him. Now all who was left with him was little Harrison. He did live in his old apartment again with Deb, but he had less people watching him and needing him. Every one watched though, like Doakes used to. That man's 'disappearance' was just luck for Dexter and made his life a whole lot easier. They have to stop prying, and he needs to hunt or he's going to lose his cool. Like when Rita died, he killed that man. He let go. It was the best and most reckless murder he had ever committed. He smiled when he recalled on it but frowned about what Harry would say.
"I am going to go upload these pictures and start writing my report." Dexter said scrabbling out of the crime scene with as much 'cool' as he could muster up.
"Well... Okay." Vince replied, "Do you want me to go with you?"
"No, it's fine," Dexter smiled, "You can just meet me back up at the lab."
"Alright Dextress, see you there." Vince smiled unsuspectingly.
Dexter hopped into his car. He sat there for a moment taking deep breathes in and out before starting the car. He drove around a bit… he was looking for something. Someone in particular that he needed. He stopped across the street from an old ware house. He slipped on gloves and waited for the coast to be clear.