Agent With a Shotgun

Nine

"Okay so let's work this angle," Amelia said as they stood around the round table back at the police precinct. Once finished at the crime scene, both Amelia and Colton drove to the precinct to meet and discuss their finds where they could lay out all of the photos and files for the case, "say he does have a partner. What type of person would help a man like Wilkins?"

"Someone who thought the way he did about women and their place in the world," Colton hand both of his palms set on the table in front of them, leaning forward, "it must be someone he obviously trusts. I mean to bring someone in while you murder these families in their homes, you wouldn't do that to just anyone. So who is there around him that he would trust enough to work with him?" Amelia thought for second, trying to recall everything she could remember from the original case.

James Wilkins was a man who from a very young age was troubled. His mother had abandoned him at the age of 7 and left him to live with his abusive father. However his father was only abusive to his mother, James was only forced to watch. His father was where he got his views on women from. He would yell at his mother every day and night about how much of a waste she was and she should be in the kitchen making dinner for everyone instead of working a regular job. He would tell her she was only good for his pleasure and nothing else, at times raping her with James in the room. His father drilled into his head that women are at the mercy of man and the ones who work the streets were abominations.

By the time James was 14, he had raped his first girl.

It only got worse from there. By the time he was 23, there were at least four girls he had raped, and two he had killed.

He never had any friends growing up or anyone close him. He always believed in working alone because a partner would get in the way or mess something up for him. He had worked a number of odd jobs, the last one being an in home repairman. People could call this service for any type of repair job they needed to be done, this service did it all. Wilkins took most of the calls for this service, going out to multiple people's houses over the course of the years before being forced to go on the run from the FBI.

Amelia wracked her brain trying to think of everyone they had spoken to during the original case. Countless number of people were brought in for questioning on either the whereabouts of Wilkins of if they knew of anyone he would go to for help. Her eyes widened when realization set in.

"Dickens." She said, whipping around to face Colton.

Coltons' brows furrowed, "Who?"

"Dickens," She repeated, walking around the table to stand closer to him, "he use to make calls to Wilkins job for repairs in house almost every week, and he would always request Wilkins be the one to do the jobs. He said it was because Wilkins did the jobs best but when we went to his house, there was never any evidence that any repairs had been done to anything in the house like he said. He claimed it was because the job had just been done to well that you couldn't tell. There was never any other probable cause to keep him in holding or suspect him of being involved but now, it makes sense."

Colton thought for moment, "Dickens was a truck driver, he had properties along the east coast thanks to his family. They provided places for him to be able to sleep when he had long transit trips."

Amelia nodded, "Exactly, that would give him places to hide Wilkins where no one would look."

"You might be onto something," Colton said, picking his jacket back up and sliding it up his arms, "we can work on tracking down Dickens back at the cabin, for now, we can talk to Roberts about taking these files for this case with us. We can add these to the others and see what else we can find. Come on."