Chapter Three: A Skulking Killer
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Greg: Give them back.
Why?
Greg: *uncomfortable shift* *whisper whisper*
Oh! *giggle*
Greg: It's not funny! It hurts!
It "rubs you the wrong way?"
Greg: Hey! You said you wouldn't tell!
I didn't, you did.
Greg: Damn you.
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"It's getting colder." she sighed blissfully, wrapping her bare arms around herself as she looked toward the nearly full moon.
"Mm…" he mumbled, digging around in his pockets for his car keys.
"I always loved when the weather got like this; Chill in the air, moon and stars shining, and such a clear sky. It makes a person feel alive, you know?"
He fished the keys out from his back pocket. Damn cargo pants. "I can see why," he answered as the doors unlocked, "It's beautiful."
"Greg," said Kitty, as she shoved her briefcase into the trunk of the 1970 280SE, Greg's converted pride, complete with custom flame paint job and tricked out sound system, "I've been thinking about the evidence, and I'm a believer that it actually could be a serial killer. I went and pulled up more cases that fit the criteria for the recent ones and found some going back as far as five years. It all makes sense, and, to tell you the truth, I started to look into each case with a magnifying glass and found more similarities, which modified as the killer matured. The first kill was really sloppy, almost a desperation kill. These latest ones are done with such skill and care, almost. Of the Las Vegas area, there's about twenty cases that match up. I think we've got an organized serial killer out there."
"Shit." Greg whistled, as he slid into his car, turning the key in the ignition.
"Yeah, can you believe that?" answered Kitty as she settled in on the bench seat, taking care to not kick ay of Greg's CD holders scattered about the floor.
"Wow. Oh, sorry! I meant to clean up, but I wasn't expecting the company."
"Sorry."
"Don't be, it's infinitely better than my usual."
"You talk to yourself?"
"Only in the morning."
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So, you found out, eh, lovely?
I knew you would. It's your job, it would only have been a matter of time. However, I was not expecting you to hunt down other, older cases. That is a pleasant surprise, and yet terribly dangerous for me. So, lovely, I'll have to visit you and let you know my plans. I've got to keep you silent. We'll see if your friends can find you before it's too late.
I've been waiting for you… I've waited years for you, my love, and I can't wait any longer to see you…
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A few moments after Greg's vehicle pulled out of the parking lot, a dark colored car turned on its engine from the empty business center across the street and slowly coasted off in the direction his car was going. The figure inside seemed anxious, and yet calm. A slow grin stole across his lips as he tailed the car ahead of him, occupants unawares of him.
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Squee! Another chapter finished! *dances*
Greg: Whoa. Hold on. You wrote but I still don't get my boxers back?
Fine, take them.
Greg: Thank you. *changes behind desk*
Aw, I couldn't see anything from here.
Greg: You'll stay super-glued there until you stop stealing my boxers!
*puppy dog eyes* But… but I… *whimper pathetically*
Greg: I smell trouble.