DOUBLE DECOY
Chapter 2: The Decoy-Op
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"Alright, Sidle," Culpepper instructed her, clipping a miniscule microphone on her tanktop just under her jacket, "This'll be just like the last time. You're just gonna go in and browse. We'll let you play for a bit, and see what we come up with."
She nodded once in understanding, and glanced to Nick, finding his eyes already cemented to her. She smiled teasingly, images from their brief encounter in the van floating through her mind. She held her arms up slightly, doing a little twirl for him. "Like my outfit?"Knowing he'd been caught staring, Nick rolled his eyes to cover his embarrassment, and nodded slowly. "Nice... very nice."
Another knowing grin emanated from Sara, followed by a light, teasing, "Thank you."
Culpepper rolled his eyes disgustedly at their banter, and sighed. "Alright Sidle, we're just about ready for you to head in..." He gave her a look while he nodded toward Nick. "Unless you wanted to pass him a note before we got started."
The two CSIs met each other's gaze, and, like earlier, a blush colored their cheeks and they looked away, Sara clearing her throat loudly before sputtering out a hasty, "Let's go." Then, tossing one last glance at Nick, she headed into the store.
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The store they'd chosen to scope out this time was a Borders bookstore, which, according to Culpepper, got a lot of foot traffic day-to-day. To him, that seemed the next logical place to look for their serial killer. Once inside, Sara took a first glance of the patrons, clusters of people milling about in every direction she looked. Some looked up to acknowledge her presence, and others didn't... and none looked suspicious.
Pursing her lips, she shifted her purse to her other hand and began casually strolling up and down the aisles of books, absent-mindedly skimming the titles while still trying to be alert. She saw everything from Tolstoy to Tolkien... and it wasn't until she reached the 'mystery' section that she saw him. Immediately she straightened her posture, a rush of adrenaline flooding her system.
She touched her fingertips to her ear lightly, and the ear-piece they'd clipped on her, and turned away for a moment, speaking softly so as not to arouse suspicion. "I think I got one," she murmured. "Five-eleven, dark hair, green eyes."
Culpepper, from his spot in the van outside, nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the monitors set up, where they were catching everything the security camera was recording. "Don't approach him, Sidle. See if he comes to you."
Sara nodded her understanding minutely, though she was well aware he couldn't see the gesture, and continued pretending to browse the books. It didn't take long before she caught him moving closer in her peripheral vision.
Nick, his eyes glued to the monitor, gripped Culpepper's arm. "Hey..."
Culpepper jerked his arm out of his grasp, shooting him a look. "Don't get jealous, Stokes. Just let her play for a bit." He shook his head at the CSI. "This is a high-profile case. Had I known you and Sidle had some weird little 'puppy love' thing going on, I never would have allowed you to come with."
Nick glared at the FBI agent. "Sara and I are not--" But the voice coming through the speakers stopped his argument cold.
"Excuse me..." The dark-haired man stepped up to Sara, drawing her attention. "You wouldn't happen to live around here, would you?"
She chuckled slightly. "I beg your pardon?"
The man smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry, that probably sounded really creepy, I just..." He shrugged. "I-I'm looking for an apartment, and was just wondering if you knew of anyplace around here that might have an opening."
"I'm sorry, I guess I really don't pay much attention to that kind of stuff," she replied, putting on an apologetic smile.
"Oh... that's okay, don't worry about it. Just thought I'd ask."
She nodded in response and smiled at him... then began to grow wary as his eyes stayed on her, seemingly taking her in. His next words brought on an overwhelming sense of deja-vu... "You're cute."
She smiled nervously. "Thanks."
"Would you like to... head over to the coffee-shop with me? Maybe grab a cappuccino?"
"Oh! Thanks, but... I actually just got out of something really serious," she lied. "I'm really flattered, but I'm sorry... I'm gonna have to pass."
In the midst of Sara turning down the suspect's date offer, Nick's eyes wandered to another figure that had come on-screen, and he narrowed his eyes, leaning closer. Culpepper eyed him warily. "Something interesting you, Stokes?"
Nick tapped the monitor. "That guy over there, in the corner... he looks familiar." His eyes narrowed practically to two thin slats as he pondered where he'd seen him before. After a moment, it hit him. "Eileen Snow..."
This caught Culpepper's attention. "Huh?"
"That guy was a security guard at the apartment complex where Eileen Snow was killed, wasn't he? Syd-something?"
Culpepper shrugged. "How should I know?" He gestured to the screen. "Besides, it's not illegal for a security guard to visit a bookstore. There's nothing criminal there. I think the guy we're looking for is the one Sidle's talking to right now."
"I'm sorry," Sara apologized again.
The suspect held up his hands, as if gesturing that it was no big deal. "Hey, don't worry about it. I understand."
She nodded, smiling, as Culpepper's voice filled her ear-piece. "Walk away now, Sidle."
She threw a pseudo-wave in the suspect's direction. "I really should get going, but it was nice talking with you."
"Yeah..." He eyed her strangely, "You too."
Nick grabbed Culpepper's arm again as he watched the suspect continue to stare at Sara after she'd left the camera's view. "Culpepper..."
The special agent once again yanked his arm away. "I see him," he snapped. "Quit touching me."
Moments later, they watched as Sara emerged from the bookstore, and tossed a quick glance in their direction before heading for her Tahoe. Nick smiled, knowing nothing bad would've happened to her with all those people around, but still relieved to see that she was okay. When he looked toward the doors, however, his smile faded. "Culpepper..." he murmured once more, reaching for him.
Culpepper's head snapped up, following Nick's gaze. "Keep an eye on him," he instructed his men, and as Sara started the Tahoe and drove off, they remained in place, watching their suspect head to his own car, get in, and follow her. "Let's go," he whispered, and they rushed off.
Speaking toward his microphone, he said, "Okay Sidle, just to give you a heads-up... our suspect is following you. Don't panic, just continue toward your house... we're following right behind him."
When he received a response from Sara, he nodded, and turned back to face a very irate-looking Nick. "To her house?! You're gonna let this guy see where she lives?"
He held up a hand to calm him. "Just relax, Stokes, we've got it under control."
"Yeah... right," he muttered sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest in a purely childish fashion. "And she almost got mugged last time because....?"
Culpepper didn't respond in words... just with a sharp, menacing glare... before both men turned their attention back to the task at hand. When Sara had pulled into her driveway, they hung back a ways, keeping their eyes on the suspect's car. Nick's heart bumped into his throat as the suspect slowed to a crawl, inching past Sara's house and down the rest of her block, before turning out of sight.
"Alright," Culpepper muttered, nodding to his men. "Get the bugs and head inside."
"The bugs?" Nick repeated incredulously. "What do you need bugs for?"
"Not insects, Stokes. We're 'bugging' her house... just to be on the safe side. Then we're gonna stay out here tonight and keep an eye on things."
"Like a stakeout?"
He nodded, gesturing for his men to head inside. "Precisely."Nick, still not understanding just how a stakeout was going to keep Sara Sidle out of danger... just sighed and shook his head, praying for her safety.
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Sara hummed to herself as she got ready for bed, brushing her hair, and then her teeth, before slipping into one of her silky, summery nighties... perfect for the hot, muggy Vegas night that it was. Then, upon remembering her house was bugged... and that Nick and the Feds could hear her humming, she stopped, and flipped on the ceiling fan before turning out the lights and slipping into bed.
Nick smiled inside the van, noting the abruptness with which Sara's humming had ceased... then listened to the sounds of her climbing into bed... the ceiling fan humming its own tune in the background. He glanced at the darkened street... the street-lamps the only source of light on the unusually dark night... and kept his eyes peeled for their suspect's car. "Culpepper, it's been an hour," he murmured, breaking the silence, "And he hasn't come back. Hasn't even driven by again. Are you sure that was our guy?"
"Yes, Stokes, I'm sure," he replied monotonously. "He's probably waiting to come back. The coroner's reports for the last three victims placed their times of death around the same time... three a.m."
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Glancing at his watch to make sure that he was on time, the figure quietly slipped through the open window at the back of the house, being careful not to make a sound. He'd seen them. He'd seen the Feds in their little gray van... and he knew what they were up to. He wasn't going to let them spoil his fun. He knew they'd bugged this one. They'd be listening for him... but he knew they wouldn't hear a thing.
He tip-toed down to the basement and headed for the circuit box, tripping the circuit breaker. No way would the Feds out-smart him.
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Nick felt his stomach somersault, and he glanced up toward the clock. Two-thirty. "Any sign of him yet?" he asked of Culpepper.
"Nothing yet... but I'm sure he'll be dropping by again soon."
Nick paused, listening for the sound of Sara's ceiling fan... listening for Sara's breathing... but hearing nothing. "It's quiet, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's quiet, it's the middle of the night. What do you expect for the middle of the night?" Culpepper snipped, keeping an eye on the house through his infrared binoculars.
"No, but I mean... it's TOO quiet. You can't hear her ceiling fan or anything."
Culpepper shrugged this off. "It's cooling down now. Maybe she got cold and turned it off."
For some reason, that didn't ease Nick's anxiety one little bit. His stomach began to twist in knots. Something was wrong... something was very wrong. Trouble was, he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
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Satisfied in knowing that the clever Bureau of Investigation would be none-the-wiser to his presence, the figure crept upstairs... to the bedroom of his next 'damsel.' He'd seen her in the bookstore... and she was perfect. Just his type. He grabbed the curling iron sitting on the bathroom counter, yanking the cord from the electrical outlet. This one was gonna be the best one... he could feel it.
Stealthily creeping toward the open bedroom door, he paused, listening for signs of alertness from the girl. Upon hearing nothing but steady breathing, he crept inside. The creaky floorboard, however, gave him away... and as she gasped and sat up, his grip tightened on the cord, and he swung the curling iron straight at her head.
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TBC