"Thank God we beat the press here," Blake said while brushing some raindrops off his leather jacket. "You never know where those little fuckers are going to show up…"
Norman nodded and pulled his shoulders in close, trying to keep warm. The journalists around here were pretty well informed, they seemed to show up at crime scenes the same time as the police. He reached out and knocked on Ethan Mars' front door. After reviewing his files, he found the piece of evidence Katie had been talking about that linked Shaun Mars to the Origami Killer. Blake had actually listened to his theory with interest and suggested himself that they pay a visit to Ethan Mars, who hadn't been answering his phone since Shaun disappeared. Letting Blake think that going to talk to Mars was all his idea seemed to be working out nicely.
Aside from that, what was I supposed to tell him? 'We should go talk to Ethan Mars because my dead partner told me to?' That's the last thing I need to be saying to this guy…
The pair waited patiently under the covered porch as Norman knocked again. There was no answer, not even the slightest rustling came from the inside.
"You think he skipped town?" Blake asked.
Norman shrugged. "I'm not sure, but something's not right with this guy. I think he knows more about Shaun's disappearance than he let on."
Blake reached down and turned the handle on the door, it clicked open.
"It's unlocked," he said to Norman, looking at him expectantly. "Let's take a look around."
"Blake," Norman rubbed his temples exasperatedly. "I don't know if you slept through the week during the police academy where they talked about entering homes without a warrant, or what, but allow me to fill you in: it's illegal."
Blake scowled. "I don't need you to tell me the law, Norman," he growled, letting go of the door handle and getting uncomfortably close to the young agent's face.
Oh for god's sake, here we go…
"We'll come back later, Carter," Norman said firmly. He turned away and started down the stairs of the porch towards the car.
"Think about it Jayden," Blake yelled after him, sounding curt. "One son died two years ago, now the other is missing. For all we know, he hung himself in there and that's why he's not answering our calls."
Norman stopped walking. He knew Blake wasn't the least bit concerned with Ethan Mars' state of well being, but he made a good point, an excellent point, actually. He turned around and headed back up the stairs.
"Fine," he snapped. "But if we search the house and there's no corpse, we're not sticking around to snoop, got it?"
Blake rolled his eyes and pushed the door open. "Whatever you say, kid."
The house was small and cluttered. The heavy scent of dust hung stagnantly in the air and there were boxes in the living room filled with objects that probably should have been unpacked years ago. "What a shit hole," Blake remarked.
And I take it you live in the lap of luxury, Blake?
"Well, it doesn't smell like someone died in here," Norman said, closing the door softly behind him. "Mr. Mars?" he called up the stairs. There was no answer, the house was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that made Norman's ears ring.
"You check the upstairs," Blake ordered. "I'll look around down here."
Norman headed up the stairs, feeling each step creek under his feet. His heart rate picked up once he reached the top of the stair case. What if Ethan Mars really was dead up here? Seeing bloated dead bodies was part of his job, but that didn't mean the thought couldn't make him anxious every now and again.
There was a door to his left, he pushed it open. It was the bathroom. He entered and cautiously pulled back the shower curtain, half expecting to see a dead body lying in the tub. His heart relaxed a little when he found the shower to be completely empty aside from a singular bar of soap.
Across the hall was Ethan's room. Norman looked around, only opening the closet and looking in places big enough for a grown man to hide, he wasn't interested in snooping around in Ethan's belongings. He wasn't about to let Blake catch him doing anything but searching for a body, he'd never hear the end of it.
Beside Ethan's bedroom was a very small, dusty room that looked like it was originally supposed to be used as an office, but it had since become a place to store boxes and house dust bunnies. There was an architectural blueprint on the desk and a small television with a VCR in the corner. The title of the tape on top of the TV said, 'Jason and Shaun, Fall 2008.' Norman felt his heart sink as he noticed it was the only thing in the room not covered in dust. Ethan Mars must have watched it recently… He was filled with a sudden, urgent feeling to leave the room, like he'd walked into something deeply personal he wasn't supposed to see. He turned around and quietly shut the door behind him.
The next room he peered into was a child's room, he searched under the bed, in the closet, and in the child sized teepee in the corner.
"Do you really think you'll find a body in a kid's teepee?" Blake asked from behind him, he hadn't even heard him come up the stairs.
Norman zipped the teepee shut and stood up. "I've found bodies in stranger places before," he said, resisting the urge to elaborate. "He's not up here."
"He's not downstairs either," Blake said, looking around the room, and then he got a very serious look on his face. "But I found something I think you should see…"
Norman followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen where Blake picked up a piece of paper from the table and handed it to him. Norman read it to himself.
'When the parents came home from church, all their children were gone, they searched and called for them, they cried and begged, but it was all to no avail, the children have never been seen again'
"Well that's twisted…" he examined the text, it appeared to have been written by an older model of typewriter.
"When I went to go talk to Mrs. Bowles, right after Jeremy went missing, she gave me a piece of paper with that exact poem on it," Blake said. "She told me it came in the mail addressed to her husband the day before her son went missing."
"So now we know for sure that the Origami Killer has Shaun Mars," Norman said. "We don't have a lot of time."
"We have to find Ethan Mars," Blake said. "See that drawer over there by the sink?"
Norman glanced to the other side of the kitchen, it looked like an ordinary drawer. He nodded.
"You should go open it," Blake said.
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Norman walked over to the drawer, not sure what he was going to find. Blake was sick enough not to warn him if there was something disturbing in there. He slowly pulled the drawer open.
It was filled with origami figures.
Norman reached into the drawer and pulled a few figures out to examine them. They were precise, like their maker was well practiced.
"What does your fancy psychology degree make of that, Norman?" Blake asked mockingly.
Norman didn't say anything for a few minutes, though he knew exactly what Blake was getting at, he just stood there and looked at the figures. He knew that something was up with Ethan Mars, he knew there was something he wasn't telling them the other night, but he didn't think it was this. Could Ethan Mars really have something to do with the Origami Killer murders? Having a drawer full of the damn things was definitely suspect...
After the sustained silence, Blake folded his arms and grinned smugly. "That's what I thought," he clicked on his radio. "This is Lieutenant Carter Blake, put an APB out on Ethan Mars, we've got to bring him in for questioning, it's urgent."
A crackly voice came over the radio. "Yes sir."
Norman was completely speechless. He honestly didn't know what to make of this. Finding origami figures in a man's house doesn't make him the killer. He was never one to jump to conclusions, but… but this was just too strange.
Blake put the radio back on his belt and turned to him. "Looks like we've got our Origami Killer," he said proudly.
Norman softly closed the drawer and laced his fingers together.
Do we?
Madison walked up the concrete stairs outside her motel room. Every once and awhile she'd check into one of these seedy places so she could sleep. Something about the unfamiliarity of a motel room could lull her to sleep with ease. She found her room, it was right by the stairs. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the keycard, she was about to swipe it when she noticed someone leaning on the railing a few feet away. She looked over her shoulder at him, and didn't think much until she noticed some blood dripping onto the concrete.
Oh my God…
She quickly slipped the keycard back in her pocket and rushed over to him. "Sir?" she asked urgently. "Sir, are you okay?"
He was gripping the railing and breathing heavily. She softly set her hand on his shoulder. "Sir?" she tried to get a good look at his face, but his head was bowed. "Are you hurt?"
Finally, the man cleared his throat. "I'm fine," was all he said. Madison looked him up and down, his clothes were torn and he was definitely bleeding heavily from somewhere.
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. "Let me call an ambulance."
"No!" He said it so urgently that she jumped and almost dropped the phone. He turned his head towards her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said. "I'm fine, really."
She put the phone back in her pocket and nodded. She examined his face, she'd seen it before. He looked so familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint who he was. "Do you need help getting to your room, at least?" she asked.
"I should be okay," he let go of the railing and went to turn and walk away when pain flashed in his eyes and he started to collapse.
Madison caught him. "Here, let me help you." She slung his arm over her shoulder and carried his weight. "Which room is yours?"
He pointed towards a door about ten feet away, his hand was dirty and covered in dried blood. They walked slowly to the door and he took the keycard out of his pocket and handed it to her. She swiped it and pushed the door open. She helped him to the bed, where he sat down and groaned softly, rubbing his ribs.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's nothing I can't handle."
"Okay," she put the keycard down on the table beside the door, he was in bad shape and she didn't want to leave until she knew for sure he was going to be okay. She stood there for a second.
"Really, Ms.—"
"My name's Madison," she said, softly.
"Madison," he painfully slipped his jacket off. "I'm fine, I appreciate you helping me to my room, but I was only in a minor accident and I'm going to be okay. Please don't call 9-1-1 when you leave."
This guy is completely serious!
There was no use trying to persuade him. "I won't…" she paused. "What's your name?" Maybe hearing his name would place where she knew his face from.
"Ethan," he said.
She felt her blood turn to ice. She knew she recognized him. She nervously cleared her throat and headed for the door. "Take care, Ethan," she said hastily and left the room, shutting the door tight behind her.
Ethan Mars! Holy shit, I knew I recognized him from somewhere! How could I have been so stupid?
His son had just gone missing, and the cops put an APB out on him only a few hours ago. A friend of hers from the news service, who had the bad habit of hacking police radios, had heard the original APB order from Lieutenant Blake.
He said the police think Mars is the Origami Killer!
She opened her motel room door and slammed it behind her, dead bolting it. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to collect her thoughts. She knew she should call the police and report that she'd seen him. She slid towards the nightstand, picked up the phone, and started to dial the tip line for the police station. But after the third or fourth number, something stopped her.
"You're not Mother Theresa, Madison, you're a reporter, and in the world of journalism, it pays to be a little cutthroat."
Yvonne's words played over and over again in her head. This could be the front page article that would jumpstart her career.
But he's a suspect, I have to call the police…
"You want to know why you've been working at the paper for over four years and you still get stuck with stupid stories like who won the high school football game?"
Yvonne was right. She'd never get anywhere if she kept playing it so safe. The Origami Killer case was the story of the decade, and if she was the journalist to cover it, her career would be set. Her boss would be asking her to cover top news stories instead of asking her to get him coffee in the morning.
She held the phone in her hands, it was waiting for the next number, waiting for her to dial the tip line and put the possible Origami Killer behind bars. Wouldn't that be recognition enough? She would be the person who helped bring him in…
That's not the same as covering the story…
She very slowly reached over and hung up the hotel phone. If she was going to help bring Mars in, she was going to cut a deal first.
She got up early the next morning and headed for the police station. She knew she wouldn't be able to make any kind of an arrangement with Lieutenant Blake, but maybe Agent Jayden would be willing to listen to her, especially if she let it slip that she knew all about the affair with his late partner. She felt slightly nauseated at the thought of trying to blackmail an FBI agent into letting her in on classified information, but maybe now was the time to start taking her job a little more seriously.
She walked up to the police station and carefully dried her feet off on the mat before she entered. Her heart rate picked up a little.
This is so wrong, what am I doing?
She hesitated for a second, standing outside the doors, barely shielded from the rain. This isn't the kind of reporter she wanted to be, but she didn't want to be the kind of reporter who covers useless stories for her entire career, either. She took a deep breath and entered the station.
She headed for the front desk, trying to look as calm and confident as possible. The receptionist was reading a book, and didn't look up when she approached. Madison cleared her throat. "Excuse me?" she asked politely.
The receptionist looked up and sighed. "There's no press conference today, Ms. Paige," she said flatly, and went back to her book.
Madison persisted. "I'd like to speak with Agent Jayden, is he in?"
The receptionist closed her book and set it aside, she looked irritated. "He and Lieutenant Blake just got back. Is he expecting you?"
"No, he's not," Madison said in a matter of fact tone. She refused to let herself be intimidated, she'd made a resolution to stop being a pushover and she was going to stick with it.
"I'm sure he's very busy, Ms. Paige–"
Madison interrupted her. "Please go tell Agent Jayden that I am here and I would like to speak with him, I'm sure he can decide for himself if he's too busy to see me."
The receptionist seemed taken aback, her face went from irritated to shock and she stood up slowly from her desk and headed for an office on the back wall. "Just give me a moment," she said softly.
Madison smiled to herself, pleased with her handling of the situation. You go girl!
She watched as the newly humbled receptionist knocked on the door, it opened and Agent Jayden appeared. They spoke for a second and he looked in her direction. He looked confused, but raised his hand and waved her back anyway. She headed towards his office, not looking at the receptionist as she made her way back to the front desk.
"Hello, Agent Jayden," Madison extended her hand for a shake. "We've met once before, I'm Madison—"
"Madison Paige, I remember you," he shook her hand. "What can I do for you Ms. Paige?" he asked.
"Well, I was hoping I could have a word with you, can we step into your office?" she asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.
Jayden glanced behind him and into the office, his face soured for a brief moment, then it went back to the icy, professional mask he'd been wearing moments before. "Of course," he said. He pushed open the door and gestured for her to come in.
She stepped into the office, it was tiny, dark, and so dusty that the air was slightly difficult for her to inhale. It was less than hospitable, and she understood why Agent Jayden had thought twice before inviting her in.
He shut the door and pulled up an office chair with wheels on it and brushed it off. "Please, have a seat," he said. She sat down, and he took up a spot on the edge of the desk. He looked at her expectantly.
"Thank you for seeing me," she said. He nodded. He looked sick, his skin was sallow, and there were dark bags under his eyes.
He looks completely exhausted…
"What do you need?" he asked kindly.
She clasped her hands and leaned back in the chair. "I want to cover the Origami Killer story, Agent Jayden."
"I'm sure you do," he said. "But so does every reporter in the state. Isn't this the kind of thing you should be speaking with your boss about?"
"I think you can help me," she leaned forward. "I want to make a deal with you. I've been doing some digging of my own, and I think I have information that may be useful to the case. I'm more than willing to share that information with you and your partner. The only thing I ask in return is exclusivity on the news article about the conclusion of this case."
He took a few breaths, like he was thinking about what to say, then he cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Ms. Paige, I'm not into politics. I'm here to catch this killer, and that's all. I'm not interested in making deals with the press," he almost sounded bored, like he was reading from a script he'd read a million times before. "Now, I just got back from a meeting with a psychiatrist that didn't go so well thanks to Lieutenant Blake, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to work." He stood up from his spot on the desk.
"Agent Jayden," Madison stood. "I think it would be in your best interest to appease me."
His brow furrowed, he looked stunned by the statement. "Excuse me?" he said.
"I have two possible stories in the works that would put my career on a more favorable path. The Origami Killer story is one of them, the other, well, I'm not sure how happy you'd be to see that one published," she was surprised at how matter of fact she sounded.
He stared at her for a second. His icy eyes, which had been so confident and cool only moments before, had become confused and slightly panicked. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"I have sources of information, just like any reporter," she began. "Your partner was a good cop."
He nodded slowly. "Yes, she was."
"She was an even better agent," Madison said. "I mean, she set an example for all women in law enforcement."
He nodded again, looking at her as if he was trying to look through her soul and see what she knew. His breathing had become shallow and his pupils dilated, a sign of stress. Madison felt remorseful for a minute, but she was so close to getting what she wanted…
"I know the two of you were having an affair. It would be unfortunate for her good name in the law enforcement community to be ruined over something like that."
He swallowed hard and kept his eyes locked on hers. "And you'll publish that article if I don't let you in on what I know about the Origami Killer," Jayden said, hardly above a whisper, it was almost as if he was saying it to himself.
"In a nutshell," she said.
He folded his arms. "Are you blackmailing me, Ms. Paige?"
Madison shook her head. "No."
"Really?" the agent asked. "Because this feels a lot like blackmail."
"I'm not blackmailing you, I'm just letting you know, that if I don't get the Origami Killer story, then the story about Katie Drescher's affair with you is the one I'm going to have to publish. I have deadlines to meet, Agent Jayden."
She could see something building in his eyes, but she wasn't sure what it was. Anger? Pain? She didn't know, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to know. He clenched his jaw tight and was quiet for some time.
"Fine," he finally said. "If I agree to keep you informed on this case you have to promise to bury that story. Katie died with a good reputation and I want it to stay that way. She doesn't deserve to be ruined."
Madison nodded and she stared at him. She took a small step back, afraid that he was going to explode any second. His lips were pursed and she could practically feel the animosity coming off of him.
"You said you had information about the case," he reminded her, not making eye contact anymore.
"Ethan Mars is at the Road Cross Motel, room 207," she said.
He turned to her. "How did you find him?" he asked.
"It was just luck," she said. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her card and set it on his desk. "That's my card, if you have anything you'd like to discuss you can call."
He agitatedly pulled a card out of his suit pocket and impatiently thrust it her way. "Likewise," he muttered. She gingerly took it from his fingers.
She slipped it in her pocket. "I'll be in touch," she said.
"I don't doubt that," he said.
She walked out of the office and into the police station. She didn't like how she felt. She was sweaty and nauseated.
What did I just do?
Maybe being a 'cutthroat' reporter wasn't worth the remorse…
~I wrote this really late so forgive me if there are typos! I just started a new job so I've had a hard time finding time to write :( However, I tried to add some scenes that weren't in the game, I hope they're not too terrible. I hope the characters are still sounding okay, it's been about a month since I wrote anything so I feel a little rusty... Thanks to everyone who read and to everyone who reviewed for my previous chapter! Those reviews keep me going! You guys are awesome!~
