Chapter 9

We were back under the scarecrow, our hiding spot as I was calling it. Jonathan had brought some bread and I had spirited some cheese and grapes. If you didn't look at the pictures of Heather's body, or the police reports, this would look like some romantic date. But the police reports was what we were focusing on.

Taking a sip of the coke I brought I picked up the first paper. The body had been in perfect condition. Heather didn't have any bruising, anywhere, even from where she tumbled with Jonathan when we first met. She hadn't been stabbed, cut, shot, or in anyway to damage her skin.

Jonathan was chewing on a grape his blue eyes locked onto the paper. He didn't look at the photo's. That was for the best I say. No need to have the images of her in his mind. He had bought my lie about how I got the papers, well maybe he just tolerated the lie. He got what he wanted, it's best not to ask how I got it.

"I don't understand it." He said finally after an hour of us reading and re-reading the reports. "How did she die?"

"They're saying she died from a." I paused figuring out the word. "A myocardial Infarction."

"Heart attack." Jonathan muttered looking over my shoulder. He was close in this moment. I kept my nerves down as I felt a bit of his head on my cheek. "How can a sixteen year old die from a heart attack, especially one that's healthy?"

"Maybe it was hidden? My mom…" I paused before completing it. Did I have to, yes I did. "My mom had a blood clot, arteries have clots too."

"No, not for someone our age, that's too… too convenient… and who buried her? I mean there was nothing wrong with the body."

I shook my head and looked at the file, then a word caught my attention. "Formaldehyde…" I said picking the file up. Her insides were filled with formaldehyde… I knew this chemical. I mean it's obvious right? But I couldn't place where.

"That's used in embalming." Jonathan said looking at the fille. "Someone embalmed her?"

"Preserved her." I said quietly. I tried to formulate why someone would do something like that. What kind of skill you would need to know how to embalm a body, especially embalming it so well. Someone would have had to learn how to use the chemicals, plus knew how to treat a dead body.

Jonathan scanned the file then picked up the pictures. I cringed watching him look at the pictures. How could he look at them? I rarely gazed at them and I wanted to throw up.

"He did everything... " He smiled and looked at me. "This sicko knows how to treat dead bodies. No scarring from the tools he used. Nothing. Just a clean body for him to… to what?"

"Jonathan." I said putting an arm around him. "You need to stop. You're going to tire yourself out."

"We only just started. I'm not tired."

"You're overheating." I said putting a hand on his temple, he pulled away from be creating the former barrier that was around us from before we knew each other.

"I'm not. Don't play Mommy with me." He shot.

When did he suddenly feel defensive about all of this? I could see the beads of sweat running down his face. If he wasn't careful he could get sunstroke out here. It was reaching a hundred degrees and I knew I was frying in my shorts and t-shirt.

"Lets go inside for a bit. I'll get you some sweet tea?" I said trying to pull him out of his rage.

His rage was all consuming. I guessed he never got ot indulge in his inner thoughts to anyone, well other than Heather, and now I was the willing listener. He rounded on me. Not physically, but with all his determination and sheer presence.

"I didn't ask you to join me in this." He started to put the file away. "You've done enough in getting the file, I didn't need anyone to help me."

I was offended by this, what did he mean he didn't ask for help? Okay he didn't, but it's not like I've been complaining? If anything I've been a good sport. I've let him drag me around town and sneaking into the police department. I let that creeper Crow into my room so I could get the stupid file that Jonathan wanted. I never said I didn't like it. I just thought he was going a little too fast too soon, and he did look like he needed a drink.

Did I say any of this… No. Why? Well maybe somewhere deep down I felt for him. I could see that he was in pain. Looking at this report could do that to anyone. So instead I reached over and took his hand. He was burning up.

"Jonathan." I said in the calmest most soothing voice I could muster. "I'm not leaving this. Heather was sweet, and I… I want to look after you."

Sure it's not the same as saying I wanted to make out with him. Heck it's been less than a month since we met, but it also feels like we'd known each toehr for longer than that. We'd fallen into a routine of friendship, it wasn't like being with my friends in Gotham, Jonathan and I could just sit in the grass and talk, or just read. I've never had friends like that. Having someone you're able to slip into and not fall out of step, it's like that whole hoaky love at first sight deal teens get shoved with.

I didn't love Jonathan Crane, but I was devoted to take care of him. It's who I was. Logan was fine, Dad was okay, I needed someone broken to hold and tell them that it would be alright. Maybe because I needed someone to tell me that, who knows, but in that moment I was determined to keep Jonathan as my life line.

He pushed away shaking his head. "People don't take care of other people. I'm not someone who gets taken care of. You don't know what it's like…" He stopped before he could say anything else.

"Then what's it like?" I said resting my hands in my lap. "Tell me. Maybe if you spoke about it it'll get better."

"It won't." He said. He picked himself off the ground. He wobbled in that moment making it clear that he was getting dizzy. He exhaled loudly and looked down at me. "Did you Aunt make the sweet tea?" He said, his southern accent seeping in around the last two words.

We got to the house and under Betty's constant watch we sat in the dining room taking timid sips of our drinks. Jonathan had a large glass of sweet tea, and I had ice water. We didn't speak. I knew if I brought up him needing to tell someone, to trust someone he would crack and we would fight again. I wasn't going to do that with Betty watching us. It was bad enough that she didn't like Jonathan, the moment she got a whiff that he wasn't nice to me she would kick him out, then he would have no one to talk to.

Once I got the drinks in us I heard Logan bound down the steps. He paused at the landing looking at us. I could tell he was planning something.

"Okay, who wants to come with me to get cell signal?" He said loudly. My brother the guy who might not be the brightest bulb in the box was able to read out situation. I needed someone who could listen to Jonathan and be away from Betty.

"Cell signal?" Jonathan said quietly.

"Yeah I was going to call some people from home. You can join us. I think they got those pictures of the city ready by now." He said at if it was a non thing. Thank god I have a brother as smooth as him.

The promise of seeing a large city was enough to get Jonathan to agree. After we had fully cooled off we grabbed our snacks from the tree and made our way to the field. I had an odd feeling that Logan was watching us, and my suspicions were confirmed once we were out of earshot of Betty's place.

"Okay, so are you two dating or something?" Logan finally said.

I had been eating some of the graps and almost gagged. Strangely Jonathan was at my side in a moment making sure I was alright. For a guy who didn't to be near people he sure wanted to take care of me. "No!" I finally said taking a deep breath. "W-why would you say that?"

"You two are around each other a lot." Logan shrugged. "I'm not judging. I'm over it, my sister gets to have a date while I'm waiting for the girls in town to call."

"They won't." Jonathan said, his voice was gaining more certainty as he spoke. "You're a Yankee. They won't want to have a roll with someone from the north. It doesn't happen."

"And you're different."

"I wasn't born here. Even if I did start living with my Great Grandmother when I was one it doesn't mean anything. I started my life in the north and the kids in this town hold it over me every day."

Logan's face no longer hand his chipper look. Nope. The guy was looking at Jonathan with new light. "So, you've always been picked on?"

"In kindergarten they would call me the Yank. I got the name of scarecrow after that when I grew taller. I've always had a nickname that I wasn't proud of. My mother named me Jonathan for some reason. I want her memory to live in that name."

"Hence why you hate it when Dad calls you Jon?" I asked.

"Only Heather could call me that, and she got my respect early on."

We continued to walk. Logan looked at me. "You two still act like a couple." He said quickly.

I was going to defend myself when Jonathan took control of the conversation. "I think we don't have much choice but to be around each other. It's that or your sister will be stuck in doors. You could always be around when we talk?"

Logan looked at me looking for confirmation. I nodded. Nope, no feelings at all. Okay maybe some, but I'm a girl I can get crushes on the nerdy guy next door. Not big deal! I fell in love with David because of gym class. Jonathan is just another side crush to my destiny with David… right?

"What do you two talk about?"

Time to come clean. "Heather's death." I said.

Logan blinked. "Morbid."

"We're trying to figure out who did this." Jonathan said. "I want to know who did this. I want to know so I can see their face."

I noticed the anger in his voice. I reached out and took his hand. He snapped out of it, his eyes blinking away the anger I could see behind them.

Logan shook his head. "And that's why I thought you were dating. Who holds hands but dating couples."

With that we both let go. Was he right? No! I didn't like Jonathan like that! Come on. Logan was just being jealous. That's all. I didn't even think about Jonathan at night… except when Crow was around. God what was I going to do about Crow?

As my mind started to spiral about the creeper that liked to stay by my window I was pulled out of it from two things. Thing one was Jonathan's hands on my shoulders pulling me back into him. The second was the bright yellow police tape that was all over the field.

The field where they found Heather's body looked like a war zone. There were a number of holes in the ground. The red clay soil was placed in little mounds around the area. it looked organized. It was organized on both ends. Who ever put the things in the holes placed them neatly in rows, then the FBI agents were taking great care in uncovering the graves. I was guessing they were graves. They matched in size and with the police finding Heather… this meant. Oh god, the man who killed Heather has killed others before. Which was-

"A serial killer." Jonathan said. His voice carried an edge of cold to it. His eyes locked onto an FBI agent that was moving closer. We were innocent. Logan wanted to talk to some people in Gotham. But that didn't mean I wasn't shaking like a school kid who pulled another kids hair on the play ground. It's my natural guilt, I should have been Catholic.

The FBI Agent on closer inspection was not that much older than us. He definitely rang the whole 'just out of college' look with his shaggy hair and slightly speckled skin. His thick rimmed glasses reminded me of the geeky guy from the nineteen fifties. Honestly, I thought he was an okay guy.

"Excuse me guys, but we have a federal investigation." He said. His voice was lighter than I imagined a federal agent to have. They can't all be Mr. Smiths.

"Sorry sir." Jonathan said cutting in. I could see it the nerdists attracting. The two of them were giving each other the appraising look that I saw the geeky kids at school give one the first day. Were they both on the same page? Did they both watch the same TV shows. The correlation being did Jonathan and the Not Mr. Smith read the same books.

"We were trying to make a call. See this is the only place close that has cell signal." Jonathan continued.

The FBI Agent sighed. "Alright, make the call quick. We have some work that needs done."

Logan was pulling out his phone as Jonathan kept speaking. "Strange, it looks like you've found more bodies."

The Agent watched Jonathan. "We did?"

"All female? About the same age?" he continued.

The agent turned to face Jonathan squarely. He was placing his hands firmly on each side and had a wide study stance. This form of posture was what someone of a weaker standing takes when showing they need to be in control. "How would you know that?"

"The first body…" Jonathan started. "She was my best friend… I want to know who is doing this. And it seems that the person has been doing this for a while. Which means you have a repeat killer on your hands, more commonly called a serial killer."

The FBI Agent stood there, his face looked amused. "Studying to go into the field."

"Just a regular student who likes to figure out how the mind works." Jonathan said.

Logan had gotten through to the other side and was talking farther away from us. I decided to stick by Jonathan.

"He's very bright." I said putting a hand on his shoulder. "Also he knows the town."

The agent smiled at the two of us. "If we have any questions we'll come calling. It's doubtful that the killer lives near by."

Jonathan blinked a few times, I could see the computer in his head ticking away. "But the killer buried the bodies in a place that only towns people would know isn't being used for anything. Some intimate knowledge of the party that Heather went to and where I'm guessing she was taken. Only the parents and adults in this town know about it. And by the number of bodies I would say this man's been doing this for a while. He didn't have anyone come out here because I've never wandered around this area and my neighbor doesn't have any kids who would look for cell signal."

I watched Jonathan a smile creeping onto my lips. When he became factual like that I just had to see him in proper clothing and giving a presentation in front of people who knew what he was talking about.

The FBI Agent smiled as well. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "I'll tell my superiors. what's your name?"

"Jonathan Crane."

The man nodded. "Call me if you think of anything else. Mr. Crane."

Jonathan took that card and as we slowly moved away he kept looking that the vanilla card. The dark lettering was in a sterile print that said:

Agent Morgan T. Coldwell

Profile FBI

His phone number was on the opposite side. Jonathan held that little card like it was made out of gold. I couldn't stop smiling about it. He got noticed by an FBI agent. That's like a normal person getting noticed by their favorite actor. The guy could walk on clouds the rest of the way home.

But my mind was thinking back to those other bodies. Several other girls had died and were now being found. It wasn't right. Those girls deserved to be put to rest with their loving families.


Author's Notes: So I finally got to see Age of Ultron! I really want to work on a marvel fanfic (which I would do after this and my next fanfic are done and posted). I've always been a Batman fan, but in recent years I've been enjoying what Disney has done with Marvel. I'm just hoping some of my more favorite Marvel characters end up over at Disney soon. I don't know, what do you guys think of the new Marvel movies?