Chapter Four: Silent Screams in the Night
Greg: Don't do it! Please! I'll do anything!
*sniffle* Any…thing?
Greg: Yes, just don't use the sad puppy eyes!
Unglue me from the chair?
Greg: As long as you don't try to snatch my boxers again.
Done!
Greg: Alright.
Yay! Thank you, Greg.
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He dropped her off at her apartment complex, waiting for her to be let into the lobby before he drove off. His mind was heavy with the information Kitty had given him. It appeared as if his instinct was right.
During the ride, Kitty had told him about her latest case for Grissom. They enjoyed griping about cases that were driving them insane with the complex specifications, which most all Grissom's cases entailed. She was dealing with a nightclub slaying, and, since there were so many different bullets discharged, she was having difficulties matching every bullet to an individual weapon in the time frame that Griss had set up for her. And, since she took classes on digital reconstruction, he also wanted her to create a computer simulation of the crime scene from the blueprints and bullet trajectories she calculated and documented while doing field research, to compare to eyewitness accounts and the suspect's stories. Typical caseload for her, but it was about four cases combined into one high-profile case.
Good thing she loves what she does. Otherwise, where would we be without her ballistic expertise? Rich is brilliant, but not quite as well-versed as Kitty. She took courses from Quantico, for Christ's sake. Can't get much better than the FBI training. Greg mused.
Satisfied she was safe, his mind now secure, he continued on home.
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However, back at the complex, all was not well. The unknown vehicle was partially concealed behind a weed infested back alley, lights and engine off. The lock on the front entry had been expertly picked, and the door was left slightly ajar.
Kitty, utterly unawares of the approaching danger on the stairs, had turned her stereo on to some meditation music and had changed into loose yoga garb. She was stretching and practicing her breathing. Her briefcase -she occasionally brought her work home, and the computer simulation was no different- was discarded in her bedroom, on the swivel chair.
Finding her center a few minutes later, Kitty began to go through the positions, but was interrupted by a knock on her door. Eyes snapping open, she sighed, rolling back into normal upright posture. She called out, "Coming!" and crossed over to the door, her hand on the doorknob.
"Nowicki Kobayashi?"
"Yes, who is it?"
"I'm one of Captain Brass's men, miss. He sent me here to check on you."
"May I inquire why?"
"There was a threat by an accosted criminal, that you helped put behind bars, on your life. He just wants to make sure your location is secure."
She peered through the peephole. The man was holding up his identification, and appeared to be legitimate. "Okay, just a second."
She slid the deadbolt out of place, removing the three other locks she had put up on her doorframe and turned the handle…
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Ah, lovely, your voice is just as I thought. Suspicious and polite. It's like terrycloth; comfortable, soft, versatile and soothing. You followed procedure perfectly, love. Only thing you forgot is how easy it is to falsify police identification, especially for a 'plain clothes officer.'
You're so close lovely, I can touch you in just a few moments. Just a bit more… And then you're mine, and your friends will need to find you. Before I claim you. Forever.
I'm ready lovely, just open the door…
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Well, this is just the right place to leave off. Cliffhanger! ^ ^
Greg: What happens?
I'm not telling!
Greg: Curse you!
The next few chapters are all you, how about that?
Greg: Deal.
Oh, and a clarification. Italicized words are the killer thinking. Bold words would be everyone else. Comprende?