The song used at the end of this chapter is Papercut by Linkin Park

Chapter 7

"The victim is a dirty platter after the feast and the washing up is a clinical ordinary task. Occasionally I hear a piece of music - of music which was playing during the time of the killings. Then I become extremely disturbed..." - Dennis Andrew Nilsen

'He's angry,' she thought and wrote something down. It was unusual to see him that agitated because Cody mostly stayed somewhere in the distance unreachable for anyone.

Victoria Varon sat at a small desk outside her testing room and was watching Cody through a small camera. Cody was thirteen and had been admitted to the institution three weeks ago. Because of an intense emotional outburst, his foster parents realized that they needed help. It had been three years since Cody was taken away from his father and his diagnosis was concerning.

Pushing her long reddish black hair back, she stared at the file in front of her.

'Patient suffers from various disorders including OCD, Panic disorder, and Nightmare disorder, Oppositional defiant disorder. The patient is traumatized and has trouble adjusting to reality. He has built up a fantasy world in his mind and rarely communicates on a clear-minded level.

His body has severely reacted to the lack of sleep and a mild eating disorder. Nurses reported mood swings reaching from aggression to indifference. Nervous habits such as chewing on his fingernails or self-mutilation due intense scratching have developed since his was released to his caretakers three years ago.'

Three weeks ago Mrs. DiDiase had caught the teenager masturbating, which as she stated during the admitting interview hadn't shocked nor surprised her. Since she has another son, she was angrier that she had walked in on him like that than the act itself.

It is a common thing in normal families. After all, the children grow up and there is no stopping that. Cody was utterly shocked. He reacted aggressively, angrily and irrationally. Mrs. DiBiase, although known to be a very caring person said that she was 'scared'.

Victoria had her suspicions about the reason behind that extreme emotional reaction but she hadn't reached a point to actually talk about that subject.

Her eyes were fixed on the young patient with whom she had spent almost every waking hour during the past three weeks. It had seriously tested her relationship since she'd barely spent any time at home. Mostly because she was fascinated. He still did not trust her when she started a few experiments with him. Cody almost complied in an odd submissive manner. Even though he acted hostile and annoyed, he still did everything he was asked.

On this day, she had him wait. He was sitting in that room for almost two hours now with nobody walking in or telling him anything. Victoria was sure that all this time Cody had not looked for a way out but for an explanation. He tried to figure out the meaning of this and since it seemed random and illogical he couldn't figure it out.

Cody had a brilliant mind. During various test results, his IQ was rumoured to be almost 150. His disorders however were preventing him from actually using that sort of intelligence.

It wasn't helping him. If anything, it made it all worse. Samantha had worked out a theory, something that comes naturally to a psychiatrist. To her Cody's mind seemed to work like a computer. It processed every fact given and transformed it to something logical.

Cody had trouble reading books because his mind was constantly tearing the sentences apart, structuring them together like he believed they would sound perfect. Every little thing in his life he takes apart, putting the pieces back together to receive a logical explanation. Unfortunately, life wasn't logical.

He wasn't receiving answers to his own questions. Victoria suspected that a lot of this was a direct result of the interrogation he went under after his father was arrested. She studied his file thoroughly and it gave away how much pressure he was under back then. The FBI was treated him like a suspect and expected answers he couldn't provide.

It wasn't surprising, given the circumstances of his childhood. From what Victoria gathered he'd been drifting through the country along side his father with little social contact. There was no one to answer Cody's question therefore he answered them himself. He was smart enough to know that he couldn't do that anymore.

Mostly he had it under control. Pushed it aside or made it better with some carefully mentioned lies. Nothing too extravagant, he never made his dad a spy but small seemingly normal things. Some of it might have been true but some of it was pure fiction.

Somehow, the world seemed a bit more logical to him when he did that. Victoria had learned very early on that there was no way to approach him about that. Therefore, she started to use other techniques. She tried to reach him on a purely logical base but quickly realized that Cody's logic was a unique one.

She sighed and looked at her watch. It was long enough, she decided and moved up.

Cody eyed her suspiciously. His arms were crossed firmly in front of his chest. It almost made him look like a normal angry teenager.

"Hello Cody," she started with a friendly voice and instantly earned a deadly glare.

"Very funny," Cody said making a face.

"What do you think is funny?"

"Letting me rot here for over two hours. What is that supposed to say about me?"

Cody was too young to notice that the game had already started.

"If you have patience for example," she said softly, sitting down and opened a folder.

"I don't," he snarled but swallowed down the rest of his anger.

It was always interesting to register that although he was such an anti-social character he seemed to be looking forward to the session. Maybe he told himself that this might help him to understand the world and most importantly his life. Yet, there was this little spot hidden behind his eyes. Awareness and caution. The boy was always in fear.

His fear had itself clawed deep into the subconscious and it was not letting him go. The fear had collaborated up with guilt and never went away. Cody never opened up about what he exactly feared but it was always there and put him in a constant anxiety.

Victoria really wanted to help him. Sure, she was eager to earn credits but she also wished that she could rid him of this sadness.

"Well, you stayed quite calm," she replied, deliberately giving him a compliment.

Only a little shadow of pride washed over his facial expression before it was filled with doubt again. "I guess. What are we doing today? Or was that the test?"

Sometimes she couldn't help but smile, amused. He could be surprisingly polite and sometimes read her and everything she attempted to do. Victoria knew that it was making all of this harder but she had to acknowledge that he was sometimes smarter than her.

"What do you want it to be?"

He shrugged and his eyes shifted. It was another unique characteristic. Sometimes he seemed like he had faded out. Victoria always wondered where his mind was drifting in those moments.

Cody was weighing up his options before he lifted his eyes giving her a blank stare. "I don't care," he answered truthfully because he probably didn't really care at all.

"You're still angry about the wait, aren't you?"

"No."

"Are you hungry?" She suddenly switched the subject, noticing his puzzled look.

"No," he croaked knowing that he was playing to her hand.

"You aren't hungry very often, are you?" Her voice sounded casual, as if she was interested in his secret to keeping his weight.

"What do you really want to ask me?" Cody had had enough. It was always him who would stop those little back and forth Q & A's. He felt uncomfortable. His nervousness was visible in his body language. His eyes moving slightly and he shifted around his chair.

"Would you answer?"

"Depends on the question," he replied with curled lips. His awareness was reflecting out of his eyes.

"Would you talk about the incident at home?" Victoria thought it would be best to be honest and blunt. Cody had a choice.

His face blushed and his body started rocking back and forth, as he thought about his answer. Samantha watched him closely, noticing every detail that would give away his state of mind. His hands were playing nervously around, his lips slightly trembling. He wanted to talk. It was obvious.

"I'm not…feeling okay with answering any kind of question about that," he suddenly said, sounding somehow like a politician.

"But you might answer them anyway?"

He shrugged lowering his eyes to the ground.

"You're thirteen years-old Cody. You're a teenager. There was nothing wrong with what you did. I believe you know that. So, I'm wondering why you became so angry."

Victoria knew that he wanted to back out. The puzzle pieces were frazzled and he couldn't put them together. Instead, he pulled back and became silent.

"Cody?"

"Hmm." He lifted his eyes gazing at her almost dreamingly. As if his mind had left him.

"It's natural to have these urges and fantasies."

Cody frowned the second she said fantasies and gave away a clue.

"I think we should call it off for today," he whispered wanting so badly to run away.

"Do you think of something bad when you do it?" The question was so bluntly asked that Cody stumbled for a second and gave her an angry look. Victoria knew she was right in her assumption.

It was nothing unusual and it wasn't unexpected. In his nightmares, he was haunted by his past and it created moments of a high adrenaline level. Fear, guilt even panic made him wake up soaked in sweat almost every night. The chemical reactions to that sort of high tense moments are similar to sexual arousal.

He was a young boy growing into a young man. The only problem was that no one had ever taking the time to talk to him about hitting puberty because everyone always focused on the child that was traumatized. She strengthened herself and very carefully chose her words.

"You don't have to be ashamed of your fantasies, Cody. They are not harming anyone."

"Yes, they are," he snapped and instantly sunk back into his motionless state.

"No, it's just imagination. You know many people have such fantasies. It's very common."

"I don't think so," he whispered and started to fight with tears of shame.

"What do you think about? You don't have to answer if you don't want to. It's very private."

"Blood," he growled and suddenly stared right into her eyes. She wondered if he was testing her.

"Yours or someone else's?"

Cody was 13. He had not made up his mind yet.


The second Cody spotted Agent Neidhart entering his room he felt uncomfortable. His mind had been working frantically for the last couple of seconds and he desperately tried to find a way out of this mess, preferably without giving away the details to his relationship to Jeff.

Seeing her made that much more difficult. She was trained to see through him and he was never able to be at ease around her. Cody swallowed and tried to hold her gaze but blinked after a few seconds cursing himself in the back of his head.

Like an image of his past she was carrying a yellow folder and placed it carefully at the table. Cody noticed that she had become older. Her movements weren't as slender as they were years ago. She wore her hair up and it gave away the slow aging of her skin.

"Hello Cody," she said and he felt like a ten year-old boy again.

"Agent Price, nice to see you again," he lied poorly and slid around his chair.

Nattie lowered herself into the seat and watched him closely. She noticed that he had really grown up. His cheekbones were giving away his poor eating habits. The paleness of his skin and the dark shadows surrounding his eyes confirmed his lack of sleep. Even though he was an adult now the scared little boy was still there.

"I was called this morning and luckily I was in the city," she said casually and opened the folder, adding, "You seem to be in a quite a mess here."

Cody smirked and lowered his eyes. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Are you going to tell me how your key card ended up in the victims back pocket?"

"I wish I could but I don't know," he snapped a little too hasty.

"You're a good profiler," Nattie suddenly said switching the subject.

"Apparently I'm not," he croaked quietly.

"I've seen your results. Your ability to put the pieces together is outstanding. You helped to solve some very complicated cases but I was surprised to hear that you left home, though."

Cody lifted his eyes and wondered if she was sincere.

"They ordered me here," he replied in a stern voice. It was his only defence so far. He didn't know anything about the murders before he got here and they had to believe him.

"Yes. You're right they did. I have to admit I was angry about that because I recommended that you would be given those kinds of cases solely in your home environment. But then you are the best the Bureau…"

Cody rolled his eyes, replying with a harsh tone waving with his voice, "You haven't changed at all. You are still searching for the hidden agenda. I didn't know anything about this fucking case before they sent me the file. I would have never opened the Fed-Ex package if I would have known. I didn't want to come to this city. I told them I rather stay home. Ask Agent McMahon why he persisted to get me down here."

Agent Neidhart couldn't help but being reminded of the young boy she had worked with six long weeks, which was straining for them both. His voice had an angry defiance to it that made him sound so innocent. Yet, this time he wasn't twelve; he was an adult. He had been trained by the FBI and he knew the rules that came with this job.

"Agent McMahon told me you've developed quite a love for the field recently," she eyed him curiously and Cody blushed.

"I know that was a mistake. But I'm here and I'm fine. I've read him wrong."

"Who?"

Fuck, he thought knowing he had giving away too much and there was no way to turn back.

"Jeffrey Hardy. He's working in a tattoo studio near the UCLA campus and since all victims had been inked I thought I should ask some question about the techniques and chemicals used in that field." His voice was shaking and betrayed his professional statement. He could read it in her face. She didn't believe him.

"You didn't believe that Mr. Hardy could be a possible suspect?"

First rule in investigating a crime. Everyone who shows up in the picture is a possible subject. Screw the innocent until proven otherwise statement.

Cody sighed and shook his head, "No, I didn't. He wasn't fitting the profile."

"Profiles aren't a certainty in this line of work."

He wanted to hit her or scream at her, anything to make her stop talking to him like he was too dumb for this job. Making two fists, he hid his hands under the desk.

"You're right. I jumped to conclusions and it wasn't my place to make that judgment. I was convinced he wasn't the one we were looking for."

Cody was smart and brought the 'we' into the picture. Making sure to mention that they were on the same side. It did not work on the female Agent.

"What convinced you?"

"He was very self-conscious and arrogant. You could use the word slick. I simply doubted that someone with such confidence would have done it. I may have been wrong but at that point of the investigation everything pointed out to a different person."

She flicked through the pages of her folder. "Someone like you?"

He couldn't control his temper and found himself angrily snarling out: "I didn't do it. Dammit, why would I? I admit that profile sounded a lot like me but it's not my fault that I'm fitting almost every fucking profile. He was too aware of his charm. Too aware of his attraction."

Nattie raised an eyebrow.

"You found him attractive?"

Go to hell, he thought and did the only thing he could think off he pulled back. He curled his lips and turned his gaze away becoming silent.

"Did you?"

Tiredly he rubbed his eyes before he answered in a very slow voice, "I considered him an attractive person, yes."

"What did you talk about?"

"Tattoos."

"Nothing more? Nothing more intimate?"

Even though his mind screamed to let it go he couldn't hold his anger back and with a rapid move he suddenly rose up and slammed his fist on the table: "No. Nothing. I made a bad judgment. That's all. I wanna go home."

The last words came out desperately and she gave him a compassionate smile, "I know. The faster you tell the truth the faster you'll get home."

Dammit, Cody thought frantically realizing that he wasn't to be let off the hook. They suspected what he was hiding and it made him feel sick. He wondered if they placed bets. Officer Jericho might be betting on the wrong horse, though. As much as he tried to deny it, he knew that what he was doing was wrong.

For all he knew Jeff could be the killer. There were other young men in jeopardy yet he was still withholding information.

He lowered himself back in the chair. Sinking into himself like a house out of cards that had just received a heavy blow. What was he doing? Why was the wish to see Jeff alone before the FBI so much stronger than anything else? He knew they wouldn't let him go unless he gave it up.

Either way Cody was out of the game. If they believe him they would send him home nonetheless because he was a liability and obviously unfit for duty. Somehow, the killer had gotten a hold of a personal belonging and that only proved his carelessness. Should he decide to keep his secret they would probably simply order him to stay here under observation or worse arrest him.

Agent Neidhart noticed the shadows washing over his face, noticing the trembling of his shoulders as he tried to set the pieces together in his head. Cody blinked when a sharp pain sliced through his head. Maybe she was right. The faster he confessed.

"I can't believe you don't believing me," he said to gain a bit more time.

"I never said that, Cody. Don't twist my words. From Profiler to Profiler let me tell you how I see it:

"You probably already felt uncomfortable when you arrived in this city. You're not used to a loud city like Los Angeles. But you were eager to solve this case because I believe you 'need' to solve those cases. Sort of like a road to redemption. When the media got a hold of your name and your story it all fell apart. I think you went to that Tattoo studio out of anger and to prove something to yourself."

"You've met this mysterious man, who as you said was very self-conscious and arrogant. The opposite of you I'd say. You were attracted to him and I presume you did give into a sexual indulgence. Now, you're ashamed and embarrassed and want to set things right. You probably think about seeing him alone again, which would not only be against protocol but also highly dangerous because you know as well as I do that the suspect has made a personal connection to you."

Cody hated to be profiled. He had always hated it. He dreaded the truth that lay in her words. Silently he listened to her giving a full and very plausible explanation for his actions and hated her with every fibre in his body. Another thing Cody hated even more than being torn apart by a psychiatrist was the feeling that surfaced inside him.

A strong urge to reach over the table, grab her by the sleeve of her neatly fitting white blouse, and crash her head against the wall. It waved over him like a flash and he winced under the image instantly feeling guilty for having such violent thoughts.

"I had sexual contact with him," he finally breezed out and partly imagined the Agents and officers starting to collect or pay the bets.

"More than once?"

"Two times," he lied because he wanted to keep something solely to himself.

"Was there any violence involved?"

Slowly he shook his head. It wasn't that sort of violence she was looking for anyway; he assured himself to keep his mouth shut.

"Are your feelings for the suspect of a romantic nature?"

After a long pause he let out a deep breath. "No. I barely know him. It was strictly physical contact. I really didn't know. I think he must have stolen my key card the last time I saw him."

Agent Neidhart closed the folder and gazed at him. "I believe you. You're right, Cody you really fucked this up. But I believe that you didn't know or believe that Mr. Hardy was involved in the crimes. Or maybe you didn't want to believe that he was capable of such a horrible thing. I'll talk to the bureau and suggest that you are allowed to fly home. You'll be under house arrest until the investigation is closed. I think that is in everybody's best interest."

There were several logical reasons why she would suggest that. It was obvious to her that Cody was struggling with an inner conflict, had barely eaten, barely slept and the stress was slowly tearing him apart.

She would make her case over the possibility that Cody might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown and was in intense need of familiar surroundings. A place he would feel safe. The Bureau would most likely agree because should Cody be the killer it would also pull the suspect out of his hunting ground.

It was over. He wasn't exactly sure how that made him feel, yet he moved up and followed her outside. As they were passing the interrogation room he gazed through the glass and narrowed his eyes.

"Who's that?"

Agent Neidhart couldn't hide her puzzlement as she answered. "Jeffrey Hardy."

For a moment Cody wanted to laugh but restrained himself. "No, he's not."

"He's got papers, credit cards and all the tattoos you described in your report."

Cody had stopped not really aware that Agent McMahon had also approached. The young profiler's voice sounded like drifting when he said, "He's got his haircut, the clothing is correct and yes those are the tattoos but I'm telling you that is not Jeffrey Hardy. Maybe you should check out the fingerprints."

"They are currently processed," Agent McMahon said and Cody flinched.

"Agent McMahon," he lowered his eyes and carefully added, "I'm sorry I let you down."

"It's okay Cody. It was probably my fault. I shouldn't have brought you here. Well, I see they are sending you home," he replied in a very sad voice.

"Yeah. I'm not much of a city person, I guess."

"Good luck, Cody and maybe next time be careful who to trust," McMahon said quietly.

"Seems to be I should stop trusting myself," Cody replied and nodded a goodbye before he turned around.

Cody wasn't sure if the older Agent was disappointed or angry with him. He didn't know him all too well but it still pained him to be such a failure. He cleaned out his office under the supervision of Officer Jericho and was surprisingly allowed to take some copies with him. Just as he was about to leave the office an annoying sound reached his ear.

Jericho gave him a nod of approval and Cody grabbed the fax.

Regarding: Jeffrey N. Hardy.

You are looking for background information on Hardy Jr. I'd happily provide them for you but unfortunately our computer system broke down a couple of weeks ago.

Almost all files were lost. However, we still have some handwritten files stored here and because of the severity of the Incident, we all remembered.

A number was printed under the fax and Cody turned around to Chris.

"Can I make a call? It will help this investigation. I promise I won't fuck up this time."

To the young officer Cody sounded sincere enough, besides Chris was against this witch-hunt as it felt to him and so he checked out the corridor and gave Cody a nod.

Two hours later Cody left the Travelodge with Officer Jericho and another young cop he hadn't seen before and sat in a car to the airport. The puzzle of this was unsolved and it was rattling on him. He had to take a sedative to control his blood pressure. On the other hand, he was about to go home.

That was the straw he was holding onto trying very hard not to think of Jeff. He had talked to the principal of Jeff's old high school and she promised him to email him the important facts. The tattoo artist was in his head and it didn't look that he had any intention to leave. Maybe it was best to leave this city, Cody thought and blinked the tiredness away.

LAX was surely one of the ugliest airports in the world but Cody didn't really pay any attention. His eyes were starring blankly at the carpet not really noticing the lack of taste that was used to put it there. Officer Jericho had tried to start a conversation but was quickly blocked by Cody's silence.

Cody let out a sigh after seeming like being in trance and opened his laptop. The small black board lay on his knees as he connected to the web. He patched his code into the window and waited anxiously for the emails floating in. His heart jumped when he noticed that the one he was waiting for was there.

He opened it and started to read. After half an hour, his profile about Jeff had changed. Cody hadn't been all wrong but he had missed a very important issue. He'd forgotten about time. Cody was pulled out of his thoughts when Officer Jericho softly touched his shoulder, "They're starting to check people in."

Cody turned it of and closed the laptop moving out of the seat with a small groan. His bones were aching from the stress and he said, "I have to use the bathroom."

"Yeah, right sure," The young cop said his eyes gazing over the crowd as if he could make out the terrorists just by observing.

Cody left everything back on the seat and lazily walked towards the restrooms. He released himself and moved over to the mirrors. The sedatives were kicking in and he yawned and stretched himself. He leaned down to the sink to swallow some cold water. When he moved up everything around him froze.

A tattooed arm was laid around his neck and he felt hot breath hitting his skin.

"Cody, I'm disappointed. You really wanted leave without saying good-bye."

Cody's mind started to race frantically with a way to escape. The cold blade of the small knife Jeff was holding pressed against his back made him inhale sharply and it took all his strength to say, "They are coming in here. There is no way to escape."

Jeff's cold laugher reached his brain shortly before he was dragged outside and pulled into the ladies room. With his arm tight around Cody's neck he was waiting. A few minutes later Officer Jericho passed them in order to check up on Cody. At that moment Jeff moved.

He was quickly out of the restroom and entered a storage room with stairs. Cody was surprised how well this was planned. His head was already carefully putting the pieces together in order to stop himself from panicking when felt something hard crashing against the back of his head.

Cody felt warm blood running down his neck before everything turned black.


"This is Officer Jericho," he almost shouted into his walkie-talkie.

His words splashed out of him like a fountain and he could not control himself. Agent McMahon was finally able to calm him down and ordered him to repeat the nature of this emergency call.

"He's gone. The profiler. Rhodes is gone. I have no idea if he was taken of if he fled. He was just gone."

I know I've got a face in me
Points out all my mistakes to me
You've got a face on the inside too and
Your paranoia's probably worse
I don't know what set me off first
But I know what I can't stand
Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is
I can't add up to what you can but
Everybody has a face that they hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face watches every time they lie
A face that laughs every time they fall
(And watches everything)
So you know that when it's time to sink or swim
That the face inside is watching you too
Right inside your skin

The sun goes down
I feel the light betray me


Thanks to my reviewers: Animal Luvr 4 Life, Tina and wrestlefan4

Loves ya!

Angel

xxx