Nate winced at the metallic smell of drying blood that hit him as soon as he stepped into the doorway. His vision was still adjusting to the light but the scene unfolded itself. His eyes went to the droplets of blood. Why would someone do this? Nate thought. He took one last look at the empty chair. But when he looked down, the woman was in the chair, and she was staring back at him. Her blonde hair scattered over her face, covering the makeup that was beginning to smear from her tears. A dark entity hovered over her. Straining, Nate tried to imagine 'It's features, but 'It' only appeared as a shadowy figure towering over Aimee.
"Please. . . don't do this."
But the shadow ignored her. 'It's body extended itself to her temple as the woman trembled. She shook her head in hopes it'll deter what they both knew was coming. A click echoed and her fingertips gripped the arms of the chair.
"Will Eliot be okay?" Parker interrupted, her eyes peered at him innocently.
He blinked away his distortion, dismissing the previous recollection as a fabricated confabulation. Compiling his thoughts, his full attention went to Parker. "Yeah. It's Eliot," he said more as reassurance, but they both doubted its validity.
She gave a plain nod and then went back to scanning the cramped office. It wasn't distraught like the crime scenes she would see on TV. Fictionally there were always signs of a struggle. However, that wasn't the case here. Books were neatly stacked, and knickknacks still remained clustered around the desk. She sneered at the realistic horse figurine. She turned its beady eyes to face the wall.
This killer wasn't an amateur. He was organized and didn't leave a mess. Professional? Eliot Professional? Or worse? Her body shivered at the thought of someone worse than Eliot. She continued her scan until she found herself at the nightstand. On top were two pictures of smiling people. Parker picked up one of the frames. In the photo, Aimee had her arms protectively wrapped around a young boy. For a split second Parker saw herself and her little brother Nick. The corners of her mouth moved slightly. Even if it was for a moment. It was nice to think of him. She shook off the sappy feeling and placed the object back down.
Her brows furrowed at the collection of dust. There was something missing. The photos were off by a few inches as if another frame used to be there.
"What was here?" She turned to face the mastermind but he was blankly staring at the floor.
She frowned. His mind was always scattered when he was hungover. She reached into the opening of her leather jacket for her phone. As she snapped a picture of the missing item, a soft knock came from the door. Detective Patrick Bonanno strode in with a hand in his pocket.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice. We wanted fresh eyes," Nate mentioned.
"Of course, how did you get the cops to. . ." his voice trailed as his eyes went to the bloody wooden chair. It stood center stage like the killer was setting a scene for a captivated audience. "I don't understand how another human being could do that to someone. To someone's kid, my daughter."
The two thieves followed his gaze to the splintering object, each of them forming their own opinions. Nate opened his mouth, hoping words of comfort would escape; however, there was nothing but an awkward pause.
The brief silence was broken by the sound of dirt scuffing against rubber as Willie Martin returned home. Taking it as their cue to leave, Nate gave a dismayed smile to the detective and nudged Parker out the door. Detective Bonanno on the other hand used the time to case the scene, searching for anything whatsoever that could help differentiate what was off. On their way out they caught the disheveled father. His whole body was hunched over as he carried inside a prepared meal a neighbor made him. Parker stood in the man's pathway and flashed him an awkward smile, unsure how to comfort him. She pulled out her phone and then showed him the photo taken inside his study. "What's missing?"
He jumped slightly not noticing her there then turned his attention to the touchscreen phone. He looked over the image, the center of his forehead creasing with perplexity. "Hm, it was an image of Aimee and Eliot. She always hated the photo. She said it reminded her too much of what she. . ." His voice cracked and Parker looked up to see tears streaming down the man's face. "Of what she lost. However, after you guys helped us and Eliot came back she moved it center stage as if she was proud to know a man like Eliot."
Parker sighed, putting the phone away. "I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. We're going to find out who did this and make them pay."
He finally looked up from the ground and met her gaze. "Thank you."
Parker said her goodbyes then joined the mastermind in his small Mercedes. She is on the passenger side, and Nate is behind the wheel. Even with Nate hungover, he knew not to allow Parker to drive. The entire car ride back to headquarters was quiet besides the occasional coughs and braking of tires. Both of them were lost in their thoughts. Parker couldn't get the words of the detective out of her head. How could another human being do that to someone? There were only two reasons for someone to take someone's life with such heinousness. Detachment or sadism. Either it was merely a job, something that had to be done. Or this person took pleasure in causing as much pain as possible. Parker grimaced at the latter. If this person was a sadist, a sadist after them, then they were screwed.