Unwritten Chapter 22

Being an author is having angels whisper in your ear – and devils, too. - Terri Guillemets

Christina tried not to think of the fear that undoubtedly consumed this young woman as her last minutes were in the hands of this monster they were nowhere close to finding. She knew of this fear, the exact way your voice vanishes and your breathing burns your own throat. She remembered feeling fear as it traveled the length of her body, until the pain gave in to complete surrender. She was not afforded a loss of consciousness, not at her husband's hands. Her fear prevented her from realizing the pain that would later consume her entire being. She focused on Nathaniel's eyes as they came closer to her own, refusing to look away at the knife he held just out of her line of sight. She tried to plead with him, but her voice refused her and the violent shaking caused his grip to tighten.

She cringed at the way Nathaniel smiled at her. She was well aware of the fact he was enjoying the feel of her shaking underneath him as he positioned himself over the top of her. She held her breath, praying she would pass out before his steady hand holding the sharpened knife made contact with her skin. Christina remembered turning her head away in a futile attempt to block out what was to come only for him to place his fingers gently on her jaw, bringing her back to face him. He was enjoying the way she begged him with her eyes, the way she accepted her fate with her breathing and the way she cried without a sound. She felt the point of the knife as it penetrated her skin; he was in no hurry but she was as she prayed for a quick death. She could hear him laugh when she finally closed her eyes.

"Detective? Detective, are you okay?" Christina looked over at the young officer who was crouched down at her level, yet far enough away for his own safety.

"Why are you not canvassing the area? There's a good chance somebody saw something." Christina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She hated how she must have looked to the young officer.

"With all due respect, I was sent over here to make sure you were okay." Officer Brian White handed Christina the wet cloth he had been holding. He read her mind it seemed as he quickly offered up an explanation. "I used some snow to make sure it was cold and wet. I know when I barf..."

"Officer!" Christina used the wet cloth to wipe her face. "Please, get with your partner and check out every business on this street. Every restaurant, every building. It's not that late. Somebody saw something."

"Yes, ma'am. Detective. Yes, Detective."

Christina watched as the officer replaced his hat as he turned to walk away from her. She called out to him and almost smiled when he quickly turned to make his way back to her. "Thank you."

There were plenty of officers and detectives already on scene when she had arrived with Randy close by her side. He had refused to go to Springfield until he knew she was safe, leaving her to feel both guilty and thankful for his presence. She had to take a moment to get her footing as she was immediately treated as lead when she arrived. Christina's eyes scanned the surrounding area even as she was being filled in by the first on scene. It was when she knelt down to get a look at the victim that she was the most grateful for Randy being there. She quickly stood and took a step back losing her balance only to be steadied by Randy's strong stance behind her.

Christina's eyes fell onto the slash across the woman's chest. Her chest immediately began to burn with every breath she took and she could feel his eyes on her. There was no doubt in her mind he was watching her just as he was talking to her through this young woman. She took a deep breath and knelt back down to look again. She concentrated on everything but her chest and realized the small, precise cut on the woman's neck.

"Chris, come on." Randy gently tugged at Christina's jacket sleeve.

"It's him. It's been him all along." Christina carefully placed her hand over the woman's eyes allowing her palm to close them for good. "Randy, Nathaniel is here somewhere."

Randy pulled again getting Christina to stand and step away. He knew she wanted to say more to him but was suddenly backing away. Randy knew she needed a few minutes and he turned away when she had managed to make it to her car where she promptly began to throw up. He wanted to go to her, but knew she needed this time to herself. He immediately offered himself as a member of service on the job and helped coordinate a thorough and extensive search of the immediate area for one Nathaniel Davies.

Christina leaned up against her car, her body shaking from the cold, her head burning from the heat. She closed her eyes tight, hoping but knowing she wouldn't be able to erase what she had seen, then or now. She felt a sharp chill travel her spine as she quickly snapped her eyes open. She looked down to the end of the alley where the media was already beginning to gather. Reed sat on the hood of his car which was parked intentionally away from the other vehicles. It was an invitation as he made no attempt to hide and every attempt to stand out.

"You got something to say, say it." Christina's stance forced Reed to stand and face her.

He stared at Christina hard for a few seconds before offering her a cigarette. He had just finished his own and held out his half empty pack to her. She accepted and he immediately produced his lighter. He watched as she cupped her hands around the lighter to protect the flame. He then watched as she inhaled heavily, her eyes never leaving his. He liked he way she held onto her smoke, he recognized the controlling way she held her breath. "I don't have anything to say that I haven't already." Reed didn't bother to move when Christina expelled the smoke through her mouth when she prepared to speak to him. Most would consider such an act rude, but he rather enjoyed the way she taunted him with such subtle actions.

Christina simply raised an eyebrow before dropping the cigarette onto the ground where she immediately used her foot to ground it out. "Humor me."

"Detective Regan, I could sit here and share with you the numerous facts on serial killers that I am sure you're well aware of, but somehow I don't think that's what you want to hear." Reed looked up then as the snow began to lightly fall. He watched as Christina looked back toward the gathering around her victim. "I'm sure they know to cover her to preserve your evidence."

"Reed..."

"You want me to tell you this is your ex-husband and I just don't think so." Reed let his eyes take in Christina's shaking body. "I also don't think your body is reacting to the cold right now."

"Thanks for the smoke." Christina's frustration was clear as she turned to walk away.

Reed watched her, he liked to watch her. Finally he called out to her and was surprised when she didn't turn around. "Regan, many serial killers start to tire of their missions. Deep down, they want to be caught." He knew that would get her to at least turn around and he smiled at her when she was back in front of him.

" No games, Reed. No words games, no head games, no time wasting fucking games." Christina was sweating now and she wanted to swipe at it as it formed under her eyes but didn't want to give Reed anything else to focus on.

"There is no stereo type with these killers. Some may say you can look in their eyes and see the devil, but yet some look as innocent as you and me and they look as if they could be the person next door. Either they start slipping and making mistakes deliberately or they are just worn out." Reed lit another cigarette offering one to Christina. She refused this time so he continued. "Some serial killers will feel it's a challenge and also a game to taunt law enforcement. This is when many will start to leave letters, clues, phone calls, or changing their style of killing. This is eventually how they're caught."

Christina stared Reed down. "Why do you insist on telling us what we already know?"

"Why do you insist on ignoring the obvious?" Reed took a step closer to Regan before blowing smoke gently into her face. "What had you losing your dinner over there, Detective. Surely it wasn't a gruesome crime scene. You've been around way too long for that."

"I think this one is Nathaniel Davies. He's throwing off your Cayden Kyle, much like Jerome Mathis did." Christina wanted to trust Reed, but she eyed him suspiciously when he smiled at her theory.

"You go with that if you'd like. You are the detective and a mighty fine one at that." Reed reached out to brush away the snow that had settled on Christina's shoulder. "I need to go before she realizes I'm here. I refuse to spend any more time at the Boston Homicide Hyatt. The accommodations there suck."

Christina turned to see Russo approach the crime scene. She had hoped she would stay away as there was no way she was ready to return to work, but deep down she wondered what had taken her so long. She heard Reed start his car and realized he wanted nothing to do with Russo, at least not tonight. She watched Russo as she made her way back to the scene. She studied the victim with no reaction, no emotion at all. She spoke a few words to Mary before giving the okay for the body to be removed.

"You shouldn't be here." Christina waited until Russo's attention was solely on her.

"Yeah well you shouldn't be smoking. It'll kill you." Rachele looked Christina in the eyes when she spoke. "And smoking with Reed will kill me."

"Do you ever listen to what he has to say?"

"Every word. He's throwing us a bone now." Rachele studied Christina carefully. She could tell she was unsettled and nervous.

"Reed?"

"No, he just gets on my nerves. Our Boston Killer is talking loud and clear to us now." Rachele kept her voice low and controlled as she waited for Christina to follow her line of thinking.

"I'm thinking this is Nathaniel. He's doing this to torment me." Christina raised her hand to her chest only to drop it when she realized what she was doing.

"There's your bone, Regan." Rachele refused to let Christina look away. "Stay with me on this."

The snow began to fall harder but Christina barely noticed as she watched Russo walk away with a quiet determination. She commanded respect wherever she went and tonight was no different. It was clear Russo knew Davies was out there, but she didn't believe him responsible for tonight's victim. Christina believed her husband not only murdered three detectives, he was responsible for this girl as well. She also believed he was here, watching her as she worked. His gaze was so often heat and once again tonight it burned her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

So beautiful. The way the snow fell, highlighted by all the lights now that they had arrived. There was something about the way the red and blue lights announced showtime. There was something about the way she stole the scene when she entered it. So beautiful. He could tell she was looking for him, for him or something he may have left. She wasn't expecting to find anything but still she scanned. It's what they did, what they all did on the approach to a scene.

He remembered her well, the way she carried herself bigger than she was. She was a strong woman, yet her quiet demeanor often gave her that element of surprise. He could see how she probably not only used that a time or two, but counted on it as well. It was a strategy that worked for her, although he knew it was not natural. She had to work to become who she was, he knew this. She knew this. She wasn't always this confident, this sure of her abilities. She was now and he liked that about her. Made her worth his time, his trouble. She was definitely worth his trouble and he knew he would take his time with her. She deserved no less than that.

She was cold and tried to ignore the way the damp weather made her bones ache. She walked with a slight limp and he wondered why he hadn't noticed that before. This disturbed him that he would have missed something so crucial to his operation. He wondered if she was injured recently or just suffering from an old war wound that was responding to the weather, the stress of the case, her nerves. She was nervous, he could tell by the way she walked, the way she kept her hands close to her body and by the way she kept her head down but her eyes up. Yeah, she was ready, but she was scared. She feared her ex-husband and she was failing miserably at hiding that fact.

He felt slightly remorseful as he witnessed her reaction to his message. He didn't try to suppress his feelings, actually taking pride in the fact he was not the average psychopath. It bothered her to see his victim slashed the way she was, and for a brief moment he felt for Detective Regan. He could tell she felt every bit of what she saw and her reaction confirmed it. That was his intention and he smiled as his planned played out to perfection. He wanted to comfort the beautiful detective as she worked to get herself under control but he also wanted to engage her in a way where she would challenge him. It was a fine line falling in love with and controlling a female detective. Tough cop and vulnerable woman. He would have both but when the time was right. Control was the ultimate power and it killed them to know and then admit that he had it over them. Sometimes life just wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Then he had to force himself to relax. As expected, Detective Russo arrived on scene. She showed up angry, the fiercely intense look on her face telling anybody that dared talk to her that she was pissed to have been called late to the show. He knew she would show and if she were hurting, nobody would know. She immediately made her way to his victim and he watched her as she had the opposite reaction. She simply stared at his message before checking out the rest of the woman. She moved her coat to get a better look and pointed out a few things to those that studied with her. She didn't wear gloves and he knew this was so that she wouldn't be handicapped in any way. She was in control, in command, but she was nervous as well. He could tell, probably nobody else could.

Then she headed toward Regan and this was what he wanted. To see them together and it was indeed a most beautiful sight. He had to physically calm himself as they stood together with the snow falling heavy around them. He liked the way Russo talked to Regan, she didn't use her hands like when she talked to the others on scene. She was aware they were both being watched and she knew better than to give him too much. He loved how she played him hard, refusing to give away her hand. A good strategy on her part, but little did she know he could read her better than what she offered him. He could tell she felt responsible for Regan now despite her being an equal. It was a personal responsibility that was disguised by professional seniority.

He watched the way Detective Regan fielded her colleague's words. She stood tall and held her own while taking in what Russo was saying to her. He couldn't suppress the laugh that forced it's way out as he knew he had succeeded in dividing the two. Russo knew it was him, Regan sure her ex-husband was responsible. There was too much respect between the two women for either of them to dispute each others theory. Russo knew where Regan's head was, there was no doubt about that fact, but she also knew the danger in letting her emotions play a part in their investigations. You feel you fail. It really was as simple as that.

He kept his eyes on Rachele Russo as she walked away. She had no interest in checking out the scene, she had no interest in standing in the cold. She left as angry as she she arrived and he considered that a victory. He had played his hand perfectly. He knew if he called she'd come; and she did. He knew she was not yet at a hundred percent physically, but it wouldn't be long. His timing was always spot on and he had no doubt it would be again.

Detective Regan stood in the snow without much effort to block it from falling onto her hair and coat. She was getting wet, but didn't seem to care. She kept her arm resting on the butt of her gun as she searched the darkness inch by inch. He was sure she wasn't seeing him, but he was certainly seeing her and it was doing a number on his self-control. He doubted she feared his knife, just like he doubted Russo feared his gun. He knew these women well and he took pride in the fact that he did. They both only had one fear and he even knew that. Detective Russo feared the unknown as did Detective Regan. Fear was a disabling emotion that was so very hard to control and he couldn't wait until he was able to witness them both experiencing it at his hands.

He watched as the older detective wrapped his arm around Regan's shoulders. He walked with her toward her car where they prepared to leave the scene. He hated to see her leave but it was necessary for he needed to make sure his plan was in place for the final showdown. He wanted both, but he'd take either and if he played his cards right, he'd have both beautiful detectives. He was sometimes afraid of the unknown as well, but he knew it wouldn't matter which woman he had in his grasp next, he would emerge victorious. They were both good, both strong and both tough. But they were both women and they always gave in to him in the end. Even the women cops, for they were only women with a badge, a gun and a false sense of security when in possession of both.