The Surf Leash Strangler

Chapter 2

The flight from Washington, Virginia, to San Diego, California, was a 6-hour flight. Veronica made herself comfortable on the small jet they had been provided with by kicking off her shoes and rolling up her sleeves before pulling out the case files. She had her work tablet open to one side; a recent update from Agent Walsh with more details about Shelly Pomroy was open. Veronica also had papers spread out in front of her as she read them.

Pierce was sitting directly across from her. He had tied back his shaggy blonde hair with a band and was biting down on his fingernails as he stared – or glared – at the report in his hand. He cleared his throat, then said, "All of these women were missing for at least forty-eight hours before they were found. So the unsub is comfortable with his set up to spend time with them before he kills them."

Veronica nodded. They had been running through the case facts making sure they knew what they were heading into. "There is almost a full two week cooling off period between victims, so either he doesn't need to kill often, or he also enjoys stalking his victims beforehand."

Pierce flips the page. "It's interesting that his victims were found spread along the coast. Could mean that he travels for work."

"Or he is just careful," states Veronica. The reports were full of details about the victim, their last steps, and the crime scenes. But the details about the unsub were lacking. "Any sexual assault?" she asked.

Peirce nodded. He reached for another document and held it out to her. "Yes, but not for every victim. The first victim, Ashley Black, suffered bruising on her wrists – Coroner noted it was most likely from some form of binding. She also had bruises all over her upper arms and thighs. There were traces of semen on her lower body but no evidence of sexual assault. The second victim, Franny Hector, was the same. Bruises and traces of semen, but she also had trauma to her throat. There was a copious amount of semen in her throat as well. The third victim, Rebecca Coleman, was the first one who had vaginal tearing as well as the bruises and traces of semen on other parts of the body."

Veronica nodded. "He escalated. Started off by pleasuring himself with Ashley Black. Forced Franny Hector to orally satisfy him. And then with Rebecca Coleman, he found what he really wanted."

Pierce cringed. "Sick fuck."

Looking over the other victims, it was more of the same. The unsub found his pattern after Rebecca Coleman and seemed to be sticking with it.

"Do you ever get used to it?" asked Pierce.

Veronica wanted to say 'yes'. And you did, in a way. "The pictures become easier to digest with time. It becomes less shocking what someone will do to another human being, but you never get used to it." She picked up Shelly Pomroy's picture and looked at it. "And the victims stay with you too. It helps if you catch the person behind it, get them justice. But this is what we signed up for."

Pierce frowned but nodded. Their cases hadn't been overly grotesque since he had joined the team. In fact, Veronica found their cases to be rather straightforward and what could be considered 'normal' for hunting serial killers. Then again, she could be so jaded at that point that she wouldn't know.

"You keep looking at Shelly Pomroy, something bugging you?" asked Peirce.

Veronica sighed and placed down the photo. "I knew her."

Peirce's face turned pale, and his eyes twitched. "Fuck! Really? Are you okay to work on this?"

Veronica was almost touched at his concern. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I hated the bitch. We went to high school together; I haven't seen her in nine years."

The colour returned to Peirce's face. "Oh."

"Yeah, I'm all good. It's the reason Hitch sent me. I grew up in Neptune, so he thinks that will help." Veronica reaches for her tablet and starts to scroll through the latest details.

"Well, I guess it will be nice to be back to your old stomping ground." Pierce reached for a document but kept his eyes on her.

Veronica thought 'stomping ground' was rather accurate. She had stormed around a lot, trampled over those who got in her way or hurt those who couldn't fight back. She knew that she had been a force to be reckoned with, and it had caused a lot of hurt for too many people. "Not really. I left for a reason."

"What's the reason?" Pierce asked, a smirk touching his lips. "Did you kill someone?"

Veronica offered Pierce a wide smile but didn't answer his question; she enjoyed the curiosity flashing across his face. It reminded her of her own need to knows things, and when she couldn't find out, it could drive her nuts. Veronica was interested to see if Pierce was the same. And besides, there weren't many people she would open up to about her reasoning behind leaving Neptune. It seemed, in the end, there was no good reason to stay. And thinking about why she left was painful, and she'd rather not dwell on it.

"Okay, fine," said Pierce. He leant back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me."

Veronica just shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

The jet landed at a private airport in San Diego. Agent Walsh, the agent in charge of the case, was standing on the tarmac waiting for them as she leant against an SUV. Walsh had confirmed with Veronica that while they were still on the flight, she would meet them and take them straight to the latest crime scene. And as Veronica climbed off the plane, slid her sunglasses on to cover the bright sun, she remembered how warm it was in California. It felt strange to be back.

Walsh stepped forward and held out her hand to greet Veronica and Pierce. She was different from what Veronica had picture; Walsh was slightly taller than Veronica, with dark olive skin and black curly hair that she had twisted up on the top of her head. The firm grip that Veronica received when they shook hands and the grateful look in her eye made Veronica relax; this woman was glad they were here. There few always a few occasions when the local agents or police departments weren't overly welcoming of her team; they didn't like to admit that they needed help.

"Mars, Pierce; I cannot thank you enough for coming to help." Walsh placed a hand on her hip and smiled.

Veronica nodded. "Glad to be of assistance. Hitch said you guys are short-staffed out here at the moment."

Walsh nodded. "Yeah. It seems the higher-ups are doing some rearrangements of the LA and San Diego offices, and it's a bit of a mess."

"Perfect time for a serial killer to pop up, hey." Pierce offered an awkward smile but dropped it and took a step back when Veronica frowned at him.

"Don't mind him; he's still fresh," said Veronica.

Walsh waved her hand. "No problem. Did you want to stop at your hotel first?" she asked.

Pierce looked keen, but Veronica shook her head. "Pierce, you happy to set up at the office while Walsh and I check out the crime scene?"

Pierce nodded. "Sure."

Walsh turned on her heel and headed back to the waiting SUV. "Alright. The office is on the way to Dog Beach, so we can drop you off on the way."

Pierce was dropped off at the San Diego field office ten minutes later; he was escorted inside by another agent, leaving Veronica to turn to Walsh and start asking her personal thoughts on the case. Thirty-five minutes later, they were pulling up at Dog Beach.

Shelly Pomroy had disappeared four days prior. The last time anyone had seen her was on Friday night at a club called the '09er' in Neptune. Veronica cringed, knowing that some moron had taken one of her most hated things about her high school and made a profit off it. According to eyewitness reports, Shelly had been celebrating with her friends. She was seen dancing with an unidentifiable man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties and good looking. The surveillance footage tracked Shelly as she left the club with the guy before disappearing. The next time anyone saw her was two days later on Dog Beach. She had been left naked, the surfboard leash still around her throat.

Veronica had always had fond memories of Dog Beach. The many afternoons spent playing fetch with Backup, flying planes with Wallace, and building sandcastles with Darrel. Many other memories consisted of the car park and a certain boy, but she tried not to dwell on them.

Veronica stood on the sand and looked over the area. Half of it had been taped off since Shelly's body had been found. "Who found her?" asked Veronica as she moved away from the particular stop that marked when Shelly had been left.

Walsh flipped open a small notepad and looked through it. "A surfer by the name of Richard Casablancas. He had just pulled up and was about to go out when he noticed her."

Veronica frowned. Of course, it couldn't be some random surfer; it had to be Dick.

"Mr Casablancas also happens to be the owner of the club that the victim was last seen at. It seems they knew each other," explained Walsh.

Veronica nodded. "Yeah, that he did."

Walsh frowned.

"Something you should know," Veronica said, "I grew up in Neptune. I went to school with Shelly Pomroy and Dick Casablancas."

"Oh," said Walsh. She tilted her head to one side. "That why they sent you down here?"

Veronica nodded again. "Yep."

Heading away from the water, Veronica moved back towards the car. There was nothing on the beach that could help them. The tide would have seen to that by now.

Walsh followed and asked, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Sorry because I knew them or sorry that I'm from Neptune?" Veronica asked, a smirk touching her lips.

Walsh gave her a confused look.

"It was a joke."

Walsh shrugged. "Sorry, not great with humour."

Veronica sighed. "That's alright. I'll teach you." Looking across the street, Veronica noticed a familiar restaurant. A place that she had visited more than once throughout her years but had learnt – while discussing a case with her father – that it had recently been up to some side business that wasn't typical of such an establishment.

"We spoke with all of the businesses along here; no one had camera's that caught anything, some of the camera's don't even work," said Walsh.

Veronica nodded. "Yeah, they don't work because they don't want to record their own crimes." The front of the restaurant wouldn't have any operational cameras, but there was a small alley that faced the direct spot where Shelly had been dumped. "Come with me," she turned to Walsh.

They crossed the street, and instead of going inside, Veronica went down the alley. It was narrow, not wide enough to fit a car, but a motorbike would be able to slip in one end and drive out the other, and there was only one door.

"Back door to the restaurant?" asked Walsh.

Veronica nodded. She looked around the door and saw no obvious camera. She checked behind the bins that sat against one wall, ran her finger against the cracks to see if she could feel anything.

"What are you looking for?" Walsh took a step back.

"A camera."

"What makes you think there would be one back here?"

Veronica paused when she heard it. The soft buzzing sound of a camera adjusting its focus. She turned and looked up. Connected to the gutter of the building was a small camera. The angle was pointing down slightly, but it might have picked up something on the beach from its spot.

"How did you know?" asked Walsh.

Veronica smiled. "My father is a P.I. He was tailing a guy for a client and noticed the unusual deliveries that this restaurant gets. He had a theory that they have a little side business going. It would make sense that they have a camera to see who is outside before they open up."

Walsh smiled. "You live up to your reputation. I'm impressed."

Veronica paused. "You looked me up?"

Walsh shrugged. "I like to know who I work with."

Veronica couldn't fault her. She sometimes did the same thing, but only when she had a bad feeling about someone else. "Well, shall we go have a talk with whoever is on the other side?"

Walking back around to the front, Veronica stepped inside first and smiled at the young hostess who was standing at the front. "Table for two?" she asked.

"No," said Veronica and pulled out her badge. She flashed it at the girl and said, "We'd like to speak to whoever is in charge, please."

The girl nodded and quickly turned to dash towards the back. Veronica glanced at Walsh, who nodded, and they started towards the staff door. Not a moment later, the girl came back with an older man, an annoyed look on his face.

He glared at both Veronica and Walsh. "What do you want?" he snapped.

Veronica held up her badge and said, "Special Agents Mars and Walsh, we'd like to have a look at your security footage."

The man scoffed. "I already told you, idiots, that our cameras don't work."

Veronica smirked. "Not the mains ones. Just the one that covers your back door."

The look of panic that filled people's faces when they got caught always gave Veronica the satisfaction she craved when hunting down criminals. It helped when she was allowed to slap cuffs around their wrist and smack them against a hard surfer too.

The owner, who had tried to deny it, ended up cuffed and sitting on the ground along with a chef that had swung a large knife at Walsh only to end up with a dislocated shoulder. Veronica had checked the office and found exactly what they needed, along with a book containing a few details that would shut down the additional business that had been run through the back door.

The San Diego field office was very different from the Headquarters in Virginia. For one, the view was amazing. It looked out of the beach and showed a lot of the city. Veronica could find herself getting lost staring out the windows. Inside the building, it was rather quiet. Walsh had mentioned them being short-staffed, but it was rather shocking to see many empty desks.

Walsh gave Veronica a quick tour on their arrival before leading her back to a conference space where she had been working out of. Inside the room, on one wall, Veronica recognised Pierce handiwork. As they stepped in, Walsh paused and looked impressed. Along the glass walls of the room, Pierce had laid out the details of each victim, crime scene details and a timeline. Then on another spot, he laid out the unsub's timeline and anything else they knew about him – which wasn't much.

Pierce greeted them with a smile as he took a sip of his coffee.

Veronica asked, "Found a good coffee stop, did you?"

Pierce shrugged. "Agent Seber – the one who showed me around – she was happy to show me to this place around the corner."

Nodding, Veronica started looking over the details.

"How did you go?" he asked.

Walsh held up a box she had been carrying that contained the restaurant security footage. She said, "We have some footage to watch, and considering these aren't dated, it may take a while."

"As long as I have popcorn, I'm happy to scroll through it," said Pierce.

Veronica agreed. She was used to snacking and watching endless hours of useless tape. In fact, sometimes, it was a nice reprieve from all the running they did.

"It looks like you've been busy," said Walsh.

Pierce smile turned into a goofy grin as they looked at his layout. "I work better when it's all laid out. Helps me notice things."

"Find anything?" asked Veronica.

Pierce shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was having a closer look at the evolution in the unsubs actions that we spoke about on the plane." He turned towards the board. "He built up his sexual actions with each of the victims."

Walsh nodded. "Yeah, building up his confidence."

Pierce said, "Normally, that is the case. Many rapists have confidence – sometimes performance – issues, and it seems like our unsub built up to his first sexual assault. But I noticed something about the victimology." He pointed towards the picture of the third victim. "Rebecca Coleman was the third victim, the first one that the unsub sexually assaulted. She is within the age bracket, same colour hair, height as the first two, but she was the first victim who had a tattoo." Pierce tapped on Rebecca's shoulder in the photo.

"Why is that important?" asked Walsh.

Veronica had experienced unsubs that could be very particular. They could pick their victims because of the smallest details. "Did Rebecca Coleman only have one tattoo?"

Peirce shook his head. "No, she had a few, but every victim has had at least one tattoo since then."

Veronica nodded. "It could be another detail that he is fixed on."

"What am I missing?" Walsh leant against the table.

"Instead of having a preference for brunettes, this unsub could be seeing another woman when he rapes and kills; these women could be replacements for someone who he knows in real life," explained Veronica.

Walsh cringed and pushed away from the table. "So he is raping and killing other women because he can't have sex with someone he sees every day?"

Veronica nodded. "It could be a woman that has rejected him or someone who he sees as unattainable."

"It could also be someone who he has lost; a girlfriend or a wife," added Pierce.

"Pierce, I want you to go through the victims and check the reports. There should be a list of all body markings, tattoos, piercings, etc. I want you to compile every detail these eight women have in common; it could be the smallest thing. See if you can find anything else that pops out," said Veronica.

Pierce nodded. "No problem."

A knock on the door made them all turn. Walsh stood straighter and cleared her throat. She said, "Agents Mars and Pierce, allow me to introduce you to Special Agent-in-Charge, George Whitaker."

The man in question, George Whitaker, looked like all the other suits that Veronica had met. Whitaker was at least in his fifties, with thinning grey hair and a perfectly trimmed moustache. He held out a hand which Veronica shook and then said, "I appreciate you both coming down so quickly."

Veronica nodded. "Of course, sir. We are glad to be of assistance."

Whitaker smiled. "If you need anything, let me or Walsh know. The faster we can get this solved, the sooner you can get back for some much-needed time off."

Veronica frowned. It seemed like Hitch had been walking to Whitaker, but she didn't comment. No need to upset the man in charge within her first day.

Another agent appeared at the door behind Whitaker; it had been the one who Pierce had been shown around by, Agent Seber. She stepped in and said, "Apologies for the interruption, but Agent Walsh, Madison Sinclair has just arrived."

Walsh nodded. "Thanks, Seber."

The name was enough to make Veronica want to vomit. Madison Sinclair was one person that Veronica would have been happy to never see again, but it seemed that she would have to suffer through one last meeting. Veronica turned to spot Madison being led towards an interview room; Madison defiantly hadn't changed. Their last meeting had been in the lingerie shop when Madison had dropped her bomb about sleeping with Logan, and Veronica had been glad she had never seen her again. The fury that had once consumed Veronica whenever she heard the bitches name seemed to have faded with time, but the idea of sitting across the table from her turned her stomach.

"Madison Sinclair was the last person that Shelly Pomroy was with," explained Walsh.

Veronica nodded. "Of course, had to be her."

"Know her too?"

Veronica sighed. "Unfortunately."

Pierce piped up. "Already reuniting with old friends?"

"Madison was never a friend, more like the person I hate most in this world."

"I'm happy to talk to her on my own," said Walsh.

"No," said Veronica. "I'm here to do a job, not argue with people I disliked in High School. Just know that if this investigation leads to us dealing with a lot of Neptune High Alumni, then we will probably deal with a few people who don't like me." She gave Walsh a smile and pulled off her jacket. She hung it over the back of a chair.

"I trust that any personal feelings will be kept separate," said Whitaker. "Hitch assured me that you are good at your job, Mars; I would hate for him to be proved wrong."

Veronica nodded. "You have my word, sir."

"Good."

Walsh smiled and said, "Shall we?"

Veronica nodded and took a deep breath. "Let's go talk to Madison Sinclair."

I would love to hear what you think. Even if it's as simple as a 'can't wait', all feedback is appreciated.

See you soon with the next chapter.