Kismet pt.2
Natalie was tired. She just spent three more hours at the park, checking and re-checking everything they had found at the scene of that poor girl's death. She had been tortured. It was so much worse than the other two bodies had been. Why? Why now? The girl couldn't be more than 19, though she doubted she was that old. It was too hard to tell with her face in such bad shape. Natalie stalked into the police station, slamming the door behind her. Her officers saw her coming and quickly scattered throughout the building. They knew not to bother her when she was this angry. This guy, whomever he is, would pay. She saw her uncle in his office on the phone and decided to wait to see him. It would be better if she calmed down anyway. She went to her office and opened the door and froze.
"Make yourself at home," she snapped, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.
John McBain had his back to the door. He was sitting on the very organized desk and studying the enlarged photos that he had taken the liberty of hanging on the wall. She was pissed, and for some reason that made him want to smile widely. He fought the urge and slowly stood from her desk. "Detective," he spoke, staring at her a little longer than he intended. She was gorgeous. There was no denying that fact. In fact, she got hotter when she was angry. Her red hair was the color of fire.
"I'm pretty sure I locked this door behind me when I left," she pointed out, taking another step away from the door. Her green eyes scanned the photos on the wall, the papers spread all over the chair and even the floor. She met McBain's eyes again, trying really hard not to actually reach out and slap him. She watched him move from behind the desk.
"How sure?" he goaded. He knew he broke in here and set up shop, and she knew it too. He wondered where she would take this?
Natalie sighed. She was tired. She hung her coat up on the hook behind her door and walked past the agent. His eyes never left her and she found herself focussing on the disarray of her office. Anything to avoid those piercing eyes. He unnerved her and she hated it. "Weren't you going to find a hotel?"
This time he did grin. "I wouldn't sleep anyway." He came back to his original position, and sat beside her on the edge of her desk.
She looked at him for a moment and he looked back. This was weird. What was it about this guy, who she was pretty sure she didn't even like? They were still staring at each other when her uncle came into the room.
Bo stopped short, witnessing the closeness between his niece and the Federal Agent. They both looked at the photos on the wall as he entered the room. He smiled slightly. "When did you get in?" he asked quickly. He watched Natalie scurry over to him.
"Just got here," she mumbled. "You were on the phone." Natalie felt like an idiot. This was ridiculous! "So since we're ALL here," she turned toward McBain, "invited or not, why don't we get to work?"
Bo closed the door. He glanced at his watch. It was almost two in the morning, and his son's baseball tournament started in about seven hours. He walked over and shook Agent McBain's hand. "Why don't you tell us what you know? Why you're here?"
John liked this man. He was direct and honest. He had been with the bureau for a lot of years now, and was used to working with people who would sell their grandmother to move up the ladder. Bo Buchanan was not one of those men. "I stumbled upon this guy about two years ago in Ohio. He was working at a recycle depot and finding his victim's within a five mile radius of his place of employment."
"How many victim's?" Natalie asked, swallowing. Her throat felt dry. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
"There were five girls killed in Ohio, two more in Montana, and three in Texas." John paused, looking at the mutilated face of victim number thirteen. "We don't know nearly enough to identify this guy. He changes professions with each new location. He sticks to killing young women of various shapes and colors. All have been between the ages of fifteen and twenty-one." McBain reached into an army duffel bag on the floor and pulled out more files. He threw them onto Natalie's desk. The two Buchanans sorted through the information while he continued to catch them up. "We know from eye witness accounts that he is indeed male, but they are not accurate with height, weight, color. Everyone saw something different." He watched the redhead again. She was taking this case to heart. She was furious, it was coming off of her in waves and that would fry her out. He knew from personal experience that being too involved was a dangerous thing. "His job changes with each new location, which means his killing ground changes. He keeps to a five mile radius. We don't know how he chooses his victims, or what sets him off?" He paused again, running his hand over his face in frustration. He hated knowing so little about this creep. "Each victim has a scrabble piece shoved in their mouth, sometimes down their throat. It is always S3. No other alphabet or number. The girls are sexually assaulted only after death." John ripped the photo of the mutilated girl's face from the wall. "We know he's growing more violent with each kill. The three women killed here in Llanview have been more visibly marked and tortured before death. He strangles the girls with his bare hands, but has recently started using a hunting knife with a serated edge to play with them before strangulation." John laughed but it was a cold sound. "He's leaving them out in the open now, rather than conceilling them under brush or dirt or whatever. This bastard is going to kill more often now. No more waiting weeks or months between bodies."
Natalie stopped looking at the papers in front of her and started watching McBain. Something changed in him while he was talking? He was slightly more irritated. Not out of control, but...there was something? He was talking in absolutes. That was it. He was sure he knew what this guy would do next. Not guessing, or even reasonably confident, but absolutely certain. A shiver travelled her spine at that thought. What happened to him? she wondered for the second time.
"This guy is not going to stop. He'll get worse now. He's smart. There is never physical trace on the bodies. Not once. His only calling card is the scrabble piece." The room was silent for a few moments before Bo and Natalie realized that he was done talking.
"Alright," Bo began, hating this day more than anything. Why did this freak have to come to his town? He was worried, afraid for Llanview. "We can't do anything more tonight. The lab results will be in sometime in the morning." He looked at Natalie intensely. "Don't stay up all night. That's an order." He walked over to John and shook his hand again. "I realize that I have no authority here, but that goes for you too." John laughed. Bo shouted good night as he left the room and then the building. He was going home to see his son.
Natalie and John stood across the room from one another while it filled with tension. "So you never answered one question?" she asked boldly. She wanted the answer. John clearly didn't know what she was talking about? "Commissioner Buchanan asked you why you were here?" She paused, and he said nothing. "Why you?"
"I've been following this guy for two years."
"And that's it? It's your case?" She wanted the truth. The whole story.
John walked forward and stopped directly in front of her. He loomed over her and they were both affected by the closeness. "I'm here because I know how to catch these guys. I can help you."
She still wasn't satisfied. "Jerry said you had an intimate knowledge of serial killers. What did he mean by that?"
John wanted to kiss this woman. She was tough. The tougher she was, the more he found himself liking her. He crossed his arms over his strong chest, and was pleased by her involuntary intake of breath. He liked that he affected her, because she definitely affected him. "You don't happen to know where I can find a good hotel do you?"
He was changing the subject. "There's the Domino Hotel on the highway as you come into town," she offered, standing her ground. Truthfully, she was starting to enjoy this cat and mouse game of theirs.
"Yeah. I passed that dive on the way in."
She smiled. "Well, I thought it was more your speed, but you are an FBI agent so I'm sure you're capable of locating something more suited to your needs?" There was no way on this earth she was going to help him. This was too much fun. He leaned closer, and she forgot all about the fun she was having. His lips were so close she could feel his breath.
"I'll see you in a few hours," he purred, his voice low.
It was the sexiest sound she has ever heard. Then he grabbed his duffel bag and left without looking back. Natalie stood there for a moment, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. She shook her head. What just happened there? He was a complete stranger. An attractive stranger, but his instant affect on her was bothersome. She was just tired, that's all. She needed sleep, and maybe some food? McBain had flirted with her since he got here, so naturally she would be receptive but tomorrow they would get down to business. The bad guy was still out there, and she believed the agent when he said that there would be more bodies. She had to stop that from happening. She had to focus on her job...and not a certain pair of blue eyes.