Chapter 6:
The firing range was quiet and empty, save for himself. It was just how Amon preferred it. It's not that he particularly disliked it when others were there, but he always felt more comfortable alone. Too many times people had asked about his marksmanship skills, or his plethora of guns. His glare usually made them whither and leave him alone, but just often enough someone would truly not get it and he would end up leaving early.
The muffled sound of the gun was calming. After this previous week, he needed calm. Every day he could feel himself get wound tighter and tighter. Doujima's message seemed to have been the last. Perhaps it had been a prank after all, though if his messages and her message were from the same person, as it seemed, it was an odd prank. It would have made more sense if it had been Sakaki and Doujima or Sakaki and Karasuma to receive messages like those, or he and Robin for that matter. Those were the pairings, the first being a non-work relationship and the others being work related. He quickly shoved those thoughts aside.
As he cleaned his gun, his mind started wandering back to the messages. It was more than a little odd that there had been three in two days and then they abruptly stopped. They had had two hunts between the last message and today, so it was feasible that one of them had been the culprit in this game but not probable. The somber man sighed as he finished his cleaning. He didn't really have anything else on his mind, so obviously this annoyance was going to keep haunting him.
"Sir! Wait!" Amon turned around as he was leaving the building to see the owner running after him. Amon waited for him to catch up.
"Someone dropped this off for you," the man panted as he handed Amon a sealed manila envelope.
Amon glared at the offering. "Who brought this?" he sternly asked. Somehow, though, he already knew the answer.
"I don't know. I turned to answer the phone and when I turned back, it was lying on the desk."
Amon looked critically at the envelope, noting his name written in neat calligraphy across the front.
"Arigatou," he responded curtly while turning on his heel to stride off.
During the drive back to his apartment, Amon kept glancing at the envelope. It wasn't until he felt the knot in his gut that he realized how much he had hoped that the culprit had been caught already and these strange messages had stopped.
&&&
Amon dropped the envelope onto a nearby table before he removed his boots. Walking to put away his coat and gun, he kept glancing at the unwanted object. He suddenly realized that he was trying to delay the inevitable. The realization alone was enough to annoy him. Snatching up the envelope, he pulled out his knife and slit the top edge. Carefully, he pulled out the contents.
Ah, so the cold man's heart isn't truly made of ice. He does occasionally show concern for his 'family' though even they might not realize it.
Another brief message followed by pictures, all printed out from some computer. This time, there were several pages of the grainy black and white images. Amon felt his jaw drop as he recognized them. Some of them were several years old, for instance there was one that had most of the team from when Amon first arrived at the STN-J standing around a crime scene. Others were more intimate, such as the one of him carrying a former co-worker away from a scene. It was from one of the young hunter's first hunts with the team. Somehow the witch had been able to throw the other man against a wall, knocking him unconscious. Then there were others that could have been at any time, like the one of him sitting with his arms crossed patiently listening to (no, ignoring, he mentally corrected himself) Doujima who was being overly animated. The pictures seemed to span his entire history with the STN-J, including one of he and Robin on a stake out.
A shiver went down his spine. Whoever was playing this game with him had been playing it a long time. What's more, he never knew it. Amon prided himself with his observational abilities, but this proved that even he wasn't immune to distractions. His mind ran in several different directions at once, and all begged for attention. Closing his eyes, he willed it to silence and began to think of his options. He felt he no longer could hide this. He would have to bring it up to the entire team tomorrow. The volume of photos, and how old some of them were, demanded that everyone be told. Now that he had three of them, he knew that there was little chance that this wasn't someone intentionally trying to vex him. The real question was were they just trying to get to him, or were they really after everyone? In the back of his mind he hoped that Robin didn't get one of these, though it did still seem rather odd that Doujima had.
He was getting more than a little impatient. When one doesn't do much but live, eat and breathe work, waiting is annoying. Finally with a small growl, he grabbed his things, including the envelope, and headed towards the office.
&&&
"Hey, Amon. What brings you here?" Michael was sitting in front of his computer playing some game but had noticed Amon's presence almost immediately.
"Michael, I've got some work for you."
Michael sighed and tried not to look upset at the prospect. It had been some time since he had been able to just relax and game, but with Amon making the request, he knew he would have to put his play time aside.
"Sure, what is it?"
"Remember the message that Doujima got the other day?"
"Yeah. I've been looking into it, but there really isn't anything that could be used to track the person down."
"I'm not surprised. I received one this morning. I was hoping that maybe this might give you something to work with."
Amon handed an envelope containing copies of the original message, to Michael. The teen opened the envelope carefully, looking to examine what was inside. Seeing the first page, he took in a slow deep breath, causing Amon to glare at him. "Wow," was the stunned hackers only comment.
"We need to figure out who is sending these before they get threatening."
"Threatening?"
"Start seeing what you can find, Michael." Amon didn't even bother to see his reaction. He simply turned and went to his own terminal and started searching for information. There were so many pictures from so many places, there had to be some sort of connection that could at least help them figure out where they were coming from.