Not many people catch Clarice off-guard...but then again, Will Graham is not many people. No more point in keeping quiet. Clarice closed the front door, plopped her heavy backpack on the wood floor, and crossed over into the living room to collapse in a heap on the loveseat.
"How long you been waiting this time, Will?" Clarice said while turning around so that her head lay comfortably on the arm rest while she stretched her feet across the mans lap. She then closed her eyes to escape the glaring overhead light fixture that illuminated the room.
"Are the police going to find this one, or did you dump the body in the Chesapeake with bricks wrapped snug around his ankles?" Will asked. Clarice opened her eyes and propped her head up to look at him when she felt Will's thighs go tense beneath her stretched limbs.
Clarice narrowed her eyes at him, "Will one answer ease your conscience more than the other? You know that was a silly question, Agent Graham."
Will placed his trembling fingers over Clarice's jean-covered ankles and gave a warning squeeze, "Was it silly, Agent Starling? One call in to inform the guru on who exactly is killing these wanted criminals and it's all over."
Clarice barked out a laugh. "Then who will protect women like Abigail Hobbs? Certainly those other wonderful agents who place their oh-so-important political goals in front of actual justice?"
Will Graham pushed aside her legs and got up abruptly. Clarice inwardly winced and regretted mentioning the Hobbs girl.
"I can't keep pretending that I don't know what you're doing out there, Starling!"
"You have too. I'm sorry that what I'm doing is hurting you but I'm not sorry doing it. No one else will." Clarice got up and walked over to Will, "You are my good friend and the best roommate one could have and if you want, I promise I will now let you know when I...when I go out." She made an attempt at giving him her best smile before she leaned over to hug him.
"And what of your other roommate? Will she know?" Will whispered.
"Drop it, Graham."
Clarice shook her head at him and then said a quick goodnight before retrieving her backpack and heading down the hallway to her room. Clarice had the only room on the bottom floor while Will and her other roommate, Ardelia Mapp, had the two rooms upstairs. Once the door shut, Clarice opened her bag and extracted her illegal firearm she bought off the black-market several months back. One shot missing. That's all it took. Clarice was known throughout the academy as one of their best shots, someone the new trainees looked up too. Funny that she seemed to only use her trained skill outside of her job.
The next morning Clarice got up early to jog, this time with her friend Ardelia. Will liked to sleep in a bit more before they all carpooled to work. He was more comfortable jogging at night, something that women like Clarice and Ardelia were restricted from unless they carried protection.
"When did you get in last night, Clarice?" Ardelia questioned as they made it past the two-mile mark.
"Late. I got called over to the Justice Department by his royal asshole to help with gathering information on his drug suspect." Clarice told her truthfully. It wasn't until after that that she went on the hunt.
"Wait. Hold up." Ardelia stopped her jog and Clarice did the same. "You're still Krendler's lapdog?"
Clarice frowned. "I'm not his anything." Ardelia's eyebrow arched up and she stared silently at Clarice. "Really! It's just that Crawford asked me to help him on his case as a favor."
Ardelia laughed. "I'm sure you two are just the best of friends!"
Clarice smirked, "If the definition of 'best friends' changed to that of mortal enemies, then yes. He invited me to his river-front house again. Said his wife would be gone this coming weekend."
"Ugh," Ardelia wrinkled her nose in disgust, "his wife clearly needs a reality check. I kinda feel sorry for her."
Clarice grimaced. "I don't. I tried informing her myself a few weeks back only to narrowly miss getting hit by paper weight and called a 'red-headed bitch whore' before she slammed the door in my face."
"Jesus. Sounds like her and Krendler deserve each other then!"
"Alright Delia, enough gossip. We need to head back and get ready for work." Clarice flashed her friend a smile before turning around to jog back to the apartment.
Clarice took a quick shower and then got dressed in black slacks and her favorite ice-blue silk blouse that Will once told her she looked nice in. She dashed into the kitchen to grab a bagel along with her mug of coffee before joining Ardelia and Will in Ardelia's car. Will, who sat in the front seat, kept giving her looks during the car ride until Clarice kicked his seat and he switched to looking out of the window the rest of the way. They arrived at work five minutes early and headed to their respective stations. At one o'clock, just after her lunch, Clarice got called up and told to meet Crawford in his office immediately.
Clarice arrived promptly and gave a soft knock.
"Come in."
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, Starling. Please, take a seat." Crawford walked over to shake her hand before gesturing to the chair that sat in front of his desk.
Clarice kept her eyes on Crawford and noticed he looked tense as well as nervous. That was never a good sign. Clarice waited patiently for Crawford to speak first.
"We found another body in the river this morning."
"Is it...?" Clarice leaned forward in her chair, eyes trained on Crawford's tired features.
"It is. Same signature kill with the throat cut and organs missing."
"Jesus." Starling leaned back and began to worry on her bottom lip. This serial killer was giving a run for her money. This made it the eighth kill in just two months.
"And I'm sure it was another baddie?" Clarice gave a grim smile at Crawford. The serial killers victims always turned up to have a dark history. Sex crimes, drug addicts...the lowlife scum that Clarice had recently taken to dealing with outside of the bureau. Only, she hid the bodies well enough, she hoped, so that they wouldn't be found until at least a year later, if not ever.
Crawford got up from his desk and walked over to his filing cabinet. Clarice's eyes widened slightly as he picked up an evidence bag containing a piece of paper off the top and brought it over to her. She reached out slowly and gently took it and placed it on the desk.
Clarice let her fingers trail across the bag and her eyes skimmed over the written words. "The killer hasn't written a note since his fourth victim." Clarice retracted her hand and placed it in her lap.
"Yes. The first was a letter mocking the police and us, but this time it's different." Crawford looked steadily down at Clarice, "It seems we have another killer out there."
"What!?" Clarice sucked in a breath and picked up the letter, this time to read it.
'...Your yellow eyes burned beautiful with light: The dead man lying there quieted and white...'
Very fitting for you, my dear. I've seen your work just once and thought it proper to congratulate you. You hid the body well. Will we ever meet, do you think? A shame I know your false loyalties and yet you know nothing of mine.
Ta for now, Lion. H.
Clarice felt her chest tighten and she gripped the arms of her chair tightly before she quickly stood up on shaky legs.
"It's a puzzle on some of the meanings, for instance, when the killer writes 'A shame I know your false loyalties...' or calling the supposed other killer a lion." Crawford paced slowly back and forth behind his desk. "Someone down in forensics suggested that the 'false loyalties' could mean that the other killer may be in the police force."
Clarice ducked her head and stared down at her shoes. No. Not the police...someone closer to you Crawford. Someone right under your nose. Fuck! She had planned to go after her next target this coming weekend...should she hold off for a month? What if the this 'H' gets irritated that she stops and writes another letter that reveals who she is? Does 'H' really know her true identity, or just that she's in the FBI?
Clarice placed her hand over her FBI badge that she had attached to her pants at all times and bit the inside of her cheek. Why the fuck did she decide to let her sick sense of humor get the best of her and keep it on when she went after her targets?
"Starling? Are you all right, Starling?"
Clarice snapped her attention back from her thoughts and met Crawford's inquiring look, "Sorry sir, it's a lot of new information to take in."
"I didn't just call you in to let you know about the new letter. I wanted to ask you, well actually inform you, that I'm now placing you in this investigation along with two other agents. I want you to catch this 'H' as well as uncover the truth about the supposed new killer."
Clarice found herself both relieved and horrified to find herself on this case. Relieved because it gave her access and control over the information she turns in on the 'new killer'. Horrified because though she would like the FBI to finally catch this son of a bitch, who may or may not be eating parts of his victims, it will bring her dangerously close in allowing 'H' to unveil her identity if he gets wind of the new agents on his case.
"And who might the other two agents be?"
"I'll call them in and we can get introductions out of the way, although I don't think you'll need any." Crawford picked up his phone and called up his secretary, "Send them in please, Alana."
Clarice turned around to face the door and just a minute later in walked her two unwanted partners. Will Graham came through the door first and Clarice felt relief wash through her. Well that was one less partner she had to worry about turning her in. The second man to walk through the door, however, set her teeth on edge and she let out a hiss of anger.
"My, if it isn't little Miss. Starling. You're to be my other partner on the case?"
Paul Krendler closed the door with a kick of his foot and looked Clarice up and down, lingering on her chest before he finally met her eyes that simmered with anger and gave her a lazy smile.