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Bella sat with her teacher's notes from the board already scrawled onto her notebook. She was doodling on the margins as she listened to Hannibal's voice drown out the world around her. And damn, he did know her. His voice had calmed her enough to rely solely on herself as she studied the people around her. Legs bouncing, hands flying across paper, complete lack of attention to the board as some passed notes or discretely hid their phones behind the person in front of them.
"I am curious as to how you perceive the world around you. For seventeen, you are more mature than the average person your age. When you walk through the halls, do you find yourself drawn to a certain crowd or do you walk the halls in subtle observation? I, myself, was of the latter. To associate with a clique would also attach a label to myself, and that is never my intention. I believe the saying is the walk of the lone wolf. Do you feel as though you are a lone wolf in your own environment, Bella? That outside of your mother and I, no one else knows the true you? It's a rather eye-opening discovery, isn't it?"
Bella cast a glance up to her teacher, seeing that he was still in mid-rant, something that often happened during his lectures. What should be a three day chapter to study often ended up as five because of his lack of filter on the topics being discussed. Most days, it was rather amusing, and it made the weekend homework nonexistent. Now, the wayward spouting of unrelated topics seemed like a total waste of time. Twenty minutes of her life just today that she would never get back because Mr. Kenzie had a beef over the equations of physics and his potential to be a great scientist when everyone knew that potential was minimal at best.
"And, the real you. . .I imagine you are still discovering her. Fun, isn't it? Testing your limits and trying new and exciting things helps guide you into figuring out who you want to be as a person compared to who you actually are. Who do you want to be, Bella?"
Bella sighed and closed her eyes. At the moment, she didn't want to be Mr. Kenzie.
Clarice sat in the dark basement, pen between her front teeth, as she went over the case file again with Lecter's notes in her lap. He had purposely thrown off his handwriting so analysis wouldn't bring him up if the file was ever tested. She was glancing through the pages when she heard clicking of heels. "Ardelia, please tell me you have coffee."
"Piping hot coffee." Ardelia smiled as she sat down next to Clarice with the evidence surrounding them. "Chuck says hi."
"Tell Chuck I say hi as well." Clarice hummed as she took the cup of coffee. "How is that husband of yours anyway? I haven't seen him since our last dinner at your place."
Ardelia shrugged as she sipped at her own coffee. "He's busy at work. Might as well be. I've barely been home to enjoy anything remotely homey since this case came in." She sighed looking back at the file. She noticed the legal pad in her friend's lap. "You made progress over the weekend."
Clarice smirked. She had help. "Yes, and I was half asleep, so I'm just looking back over the notes." She couldn't make her and Hannibal's discovery on her own. She needed Ardelia to make it for the FBI. "I could hardly look at the files of the younger girls. Every photo just made me think of Bella. Took everything in me not to burn them."
"Especially the first girl. She was the youngest." Ardelia breathed. "I can't stand either of them. The young victims remind me of Bella, and the older victims remind me of you. Some of them could be your twin, girl."
Clarice waited, casting brief glances to her friend's face before taking a moment to look back at the file.
Then, her eyes widened with a gasp on her lips. "What if they're targeting you?"
"Me? There's no evidence of that. None of the victims knew me or were related to me. The same goes for Bella." Clarice stated, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her stomach. "What makes you think that?"
Ardelia pulled out a few of the victim pictures. "Clarice, look at these. It can't just be a coincidence that the killer is targeting two types of women who are mother and daughter. These women led lives like you and Bella too. Single mothers, workaholics, straight-A students. It's a profile of the perfect victim for this guy." She slapped a photo down of one of the victims that resembled Clarice and pointed to bloodied and mangled skull. "These women were scalped. Could it possibly be a message from Lecter?"
Now, we're off the tracks.
Clarice sat upright, eyes wide. "Lecter? Delia, you can't be serious. Lecter eats his victims. He wouldn't stoop as low as to use a beer can. It would make him appear less of a gentleman to even hold a beer can. I'll give you the scalping thing, but Lecter doesn't even know about Bella. He's not a sexual predator either, and the victims who look like Bella died when their killer shoved a sharp beer can edge inside them."
"Who else knows about the scalping thing? Paul has the scar, but the details of what happened that night weren't released to the media because of his pride to be the macho man." Ardelia questioned. "That would only leave Paul's family and FBI agents who were in our unit at that time."
Clarice bit her lip, pretending to be lost in thought. She could only lead so far before it was out of her hands. Hopefully, Ardelia wouldn't jump off the tracks again like she did thinking Hannibal Lecter would come back just to carve up the women of D.C. to mess with her. Even if Delia didn't work with Lecter, she knew his profile. He was a straight shooter, and he knew all of his victims at some level.
Ardelia pulled out the victims' pictures of the younger girls. They looked mauled from the belly down to the knees. "It would have to be someone with an axe against Bella too. That's a lot of rage for someone not to have a problem on a personal level with her."
"The only person she's ever complained about is Chet Krendler." Clarice breathed, meeting her friend's eyes. "He's been trying to put moves on her since they were five. He tried to kiss her during nap time and she kicked him where it hurt most."
"This is a big accusation, Clarice." Ardelia whispered, her eyes wide as she looked over the files. "We can't just go with this like with any other suspect. Paul has a personal beef with you. If we go after him without hard evidence, he won't stop until you lose this job."
Clarice exhaled slowly. "I know." Honestly, Paul and Chet made the most sense, but something was still tugging her away from them. Something just wasn't adding up. Paul and Chet both had made sexual innuendos about getting into her and Bella's pants. Neither set of the victims were sexually assaulted other than the beer can. On the victims that looked like her, there was no sign of sexual motivation on them. She didn't know how sick the Krendler's were, but she wouldn't put rape past them. She was sure there were a number of women out there who had fallen victim to the two.
Ardelia bit her lip. "If I investigate this avenue, I have to recommend that you be removed from the case, Clarice."
"If that's what you have to do, I'm okay with that." Clarice whispered. "You'll keep me updated though, right?"
Ardelia closed the file. "I'll go make copies for you now."
Hannibal adjusted the hat on his head before he walked into the small flower shop on a corner lot. He walked over to the counter with a small box in his hand. A woman in her late fifties stood with a polite smile of ruby red lips. She wore an animal print dress that was tied closed with a knot just over her right hip and a neckline that was much too deep to be considered ladylike. "Hello, how can I help you?"
"Hello," Hannibal smiled, masking his accent with a southern drawl he picked up from listening to Clarice. "I was hoping to send some roses to my daughter this Friday along with this small box." He placed the item on the table and opened it, showing her the four horse chariot jewelry box. "She has a ballet performance Friday night, and I'm afraid I'll miss it."
The woman beamed. "Of course, we can help you with that. What color roses would you like to send? I would recommend pink if they are for your daughter."
Hannibal nodded. "Alright. Let's do six pink and six white."
"Excellent." She smiled before pulling out a cardstock paper the size of a postcard. "Here's the card if you'd like to write something to her. Will this be cash or credit?"
Hannibal pulled out his wallet and flashed a smile. "Cash, please."
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