"What have we got, Alexx?" Horatio asked. He took off his sunglasses and examined the body with a grim countenance. Another female victim, as was expected of Miami's newest serial killer.
"Poor baby…she probably never even saw it comin'. Take a look at these odd perforations in her chest. I can't identify what made them. Nothing at the crime scene matches the wounds." Alexx gently held down the skin to get a clearer view of the gashes in the victim's chest.
"But it matches the wounds from our other female victims of roughly the same age, correct?" Horatio confirmed. Alexx nodded slowly, quite intrigued.
"I'm going to put every available agent on this case, Alexx. We'll find him." He said, ready to call in his team to put in a few emergency hours.
"Mom, Dad, this is Esteban Lodovico Jarvis. The guy I want to marry." Sloane presented her little Hispanic sweetheart to the family. T.C. Remington cleared his throat and glared at Esteban.
"I think it would have been more respectful if you'd asked me first. I'm not exactly impressed with you, kid." He grunted. Sloane's face dropped.
"Daaaaaddy! You promised you wouldn't!" Sloane whined. Simone lit a cigarette and shared it with Wyler, who was apparently enjoying the entertainment.
"Dad…for real. You said you weren't gonna mess with the guy." Harvey jumped in. Keats and Sloane gave Harvey a grateful look.
"That was before I got a good look at the punk. He looks like a drug dealer. What kind of father would I be if I let my daughter marry a drug dealer?" He replied, edging closer to Esteban. Sloane carefully maneuvered herself in front of Esteban, blocking him from her over-protective father.
"He looks okay to me, baby." Tina-Shelly said, winking at Esteban. In all truth, Esteban was quite handsome, but he did have an aura of…sleazebag.
"Did anyone ask you?" Glenn shouted. Glenn hated Tina-Shelly more than any of the original Remingtons. It had everything to do with the fact that Tina-Shelly dated his best friend before moving on to his father.
"Watch your mouth, Glenn. This is none of your business." T.C. barked when Tina-Shelly made a childish pouting face. Glenn popped his knuckles furiously.
"It's none of her business, either, Pop." He retorted. Sloane grabbed the nearest waiter and wrestled a gin and tonic from his hands. She swallowed the entire thing down in five seconds and tossed it back to him. The glass sailed through the air and the waiter ran to catch it, bumping into Simone.
Simone spilled her Cosmopolitan into the ashtray and fixed the waiter with an icy glare. She turned around and stubbed her cigarette into the same ashtray, gasping as a tall flame rose.
"Tobias, stop yelling at your son!" Selvia screamed, anxious to end the fight. Keats nudged Cecily and Lavinia, pointing out the fire that had spread to the floral centerpieces.
"My God, you morons. We are in danger and all you can argue about is the Mexican man with the funny hat?" Wyler said, his eyes stuck on the burning blossoms.
Suddenly all eyes turned to the center of the table. The smoke was rising as the flames continued to climb higher and higher.
Selvia blinked a few times and passed out, falling out of her chair noisily. T.C. groaned and attacked the flame with his jacket. Tina-Shelly followed suit, pouring her daiquiri on top of the crackling embers.
"No!" Glenn and Harvey yelled. A mini-explosion occurred and Simone whimpered as the ash settled on her white silk gown. Sloane slapped her forehead and crossed her eyes.
"Whoa, action city!" exclaimed Miles, who had been taking it all in for awhile. Keats gave a sardonic laugh and grinned at her half-sisters.
"Now isn't this better than launching a rocket?" She thumbed the current bonfire behind her and nodded. Cecily and Lavinia burst into furious giggles.
After showering in her apartment, still chuckling over the fiasco with Sloane's engagement dinner, Keats checked her voicemails on her cell phone. Horatio apparently needed every available body working on the latest case. She dressed and immediately reported to the Miami Dade P.D. Crime Lab.
"What's going on?" Keats entered the Lab to find Calleigh and Eric running tests on the victim's clothes. The crime scene had been scant in evidence, so the only thing they could go by was whatever the victim had on her person at the time of her murder.
"The papers are calling him the Ladykiller." Eric said with scowl. Keats rolled her green eyes and gave a slight twitch.
"That's awfully original…" Keats said, surveying the blood-soaked bikini.
"The autopsy report revealed no tearing, so the sexual activity was consensual. As is customary of his victims." Calleigh murmured, sifting through the report disconsolately. More women were falling prey to the Ladykiller, but there was no cold hard evidence to convict anyone.
"Cooper, how are ya? Gotta favor to ask. Can you look up a guy named Esteban Jarvis for me?" Keats asked, putting an arm around him deceptively.
"I feel so cheap, Skeeter. I let you use me too much…I'll get right on it." He sighed and immediately began typing the name into the search engine. Keats leaned over him and gazed intently into the computer screen. Dan Cooper sat rigidly in his chair, allowing himself to inhale the sweet scent of Keats' hair.
"Cooper, what are you doing?" Keats raised her eyebrows.
"Nothing. Um, Esteban Jarvis…31 in the greater Miami area. How old is the one you're thinking of?" He asked, hoping she wouldn't remember that he'd smelled her hair.
"Mid to late-twenties." She replied, her eyes glued to the screen.
"That narrows it down to 20." He said. Keats gave a painful sigh.
"Look up, uh…Esteban Lodovico Jarvis…" She tried to refine the search.
"Nope. No results match that name, Skeeter." Cooper said. Keats felt as if she'd been tossed into a freezing cold pond.