The Sunflower Killer

Chapter Three

Edward Merriweather was an idiot, Loretta thought to herself. Not only did he befriend the detective's son, but he was being chummy with her bicycle-stealer as well? It was ludicrous.

Loretta knew Valentin. Or rather, she knew of him. The boy was a walking catalyst. His father was the city's head detective, while his mother was a forensics officer. His entire family was, quite literally, out to get her. On top of that, he stole her brand-new bike; Loretta knew that she was rightfully furious with the boy.

She had placed her two-wheeler in front of Lauzon's Pastry Shop and wandered inside for some apple tarts. Loretta was delighted to visit Madame Lauzon, who was the elderly shopkeeper with a hearty laugh and a knack for making sweets. Her eyes crinkled up with smile lines whenever she saw Loretta, and she would come out of the shop with a ridiculous amount of desserts each time.

A bouquet of sunflowers nestled inside Loretta's pannier, waiting to be burned when Eloise announced her next target. It was a small ritual that she found comforting. One thing that she discovered during the years, was that burning flowers before her killings made her feel more at ease. The sunflowers she bought last Wednesday were specifically for Sebastian, but she wasn't able to light them as they were taken along with her bicycle.

When Loretta stepped back outside with a pastry box tucked under her arm, she found that both her bike and flowers were nowhere to be found. She immediately interrogated nearby pedestrians, asking if they had seen it, but all of them shook their heads 'no'.

It was by chance that she bumped into Anna—a fellow classmate—that she learned that her bicycle was stolen by a slender brown-haired boy, wearing a dress shirt under his sweater vest. What a peculiar clothing combination, she thought to herself, and was vexed that he had run away with her bicycle. It had cost nearly half of her savings, which further fueled Loretta's determination to take her bike back.

Anna had told her that the boy also attended Blyth Academy, so the girls waited outside the school on Friday afternoon to catch the culprit. She quickly pointed out Valentin Locke as the perpetrator, which left Loretta in shock. She knew that Valentin was from a well-respected household, and didn't think that he'd be the kind of person to steal. He was also a close friend of Edward's, so she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Although she hated his family, Loretta held no ill-will towards the boy himself. That is, until he nabbed her hard-earned bike from right under her nose. She was never going to forgive him now.

After the dismissal bell rang, she seized Edward's collar and dragged him out into the hallways. He had mumbled protests, but grudgingly followed in her footsteps. Loretta was sure that steam was coming out of her ears when she whipped around to face him.

"Etta, before you kill me—figuratively of course—please let me explain."

Loosening the grip on his collar, she huffed and crossed her arms. "It better be a pretty darn good explanation."

Edward raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Look, I know that Val is a nice guy." When he saw Loretta roll her eyes, he hastily continued. "Constable Locke may be his father, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends with his son!"

"His son literally wants to be a detective as well."

"Maybe he'll change his mind in the future."

"I highly doubt it."

"But what if he does? Val isn't a monster. He won't go around trying to tail civilians and lock them up in jail for the thrill of it. He wouldn't frame innocent people."

Loretta gave him a dry smile. "Edward Merriweather. The problem here isn't that Valentin frames innocent people like his damnable father. The issue is that he wants to lock up guilty people. Like us. We are evidently guilty under the law. The criminal law. Do you not see the... dilemma here?"

"I still don't think he took your bicycle on purpose."

"Stole. He stole it."

"Where's the evidence?" Edward harrumphed and pushed out his bottom lip, crossing his arms like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

"I'm not the judge nor the jury, I don't need evidence, save for my own two eyeballs. He practically admitted to it! Did you not see the guilty look on his face when I questioned him about my bicycle? My bicycle, which cost more than half of my savings?"

"Loretta, please calm down. I know that bike meant a lot to you, but please stop making such a fuss. I'll ask him to bring it back, and then it'll just be water under the bridge, alright?"

"Easy for you to say—it wasn't your bike."

"Pfft. This is exactly why I told you to buy a lock. And now because you didn't use a lock, your bike was stolen by a Locke..."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Hey! You have to admit, it was funny."

"You're going to die."

"I know you won't kill me."

"Oh? And why is that?"

Edward batted his eyes. "Because you love me too much."

"Because I wha—" Loretta's eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. "Why do you flirt with everyone?" she asked, sighing in fatigue.

"I only flirt with you," he winked, offering her his arm. "M'lady?"

"You have absolutely no shame do you, Mr. Merriweather?" But she took up on his offer, and the two strolled on towards the cafeteria.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Loretta and Edward had parted ways for the second half of class, where she had Biology and he had World History. Edward was always fascinated with patterns and the past. This obsession of his was also the reason why Eloise had taken an interest in the two of them in the first place. His impressive collection of antique weapons caught her eye, and she had trained them ever since.

Loretta idolized Eloise. She was an agent who was working with the government to hire and recruit assassins. To protect the city, they were essential in eradicating outlaws, embezzlers, and those who abused their power and status. They were doing good in the world, but Loretta always found it ironic that in the process of ridding the city of criminals, she became one herself.

However, as much as she disagreed with the methods, she had to prove herself to be worthy in order to become one of her disciplines. And to be worthy, she had to kill. Eloise had picked her and Edward when they were only children, training them ever since. They had wandered onto the streets in pursuit of one of Edward's trinkets one day, (he had dropped his butterfly knife) and would have nearly been run over by a carriage if it weren't for Eloise's quick reflexes. From that day forth, Loretta and Edward owed her their lives, and in exchange, they offered to become assassins for her.

Edward became the mastermind—the brains behind the operations. His hands were smooth and unblemished, while Loretta had to clean hers raw with bleach and scars. He created the plan once Eloise found the target, and spent endless nights mapping out their activities and potential hindrances. The clean-up after the operation was also up to him. Loretta on the other hand, was left to do the dirty work and the actual killing.

She was quite good at her job, which wasn't that surprising, considering the fact that her parents had taught her martial arts from a young age. 'It's for self-defence,' they said, and so she bowed her head obediently and trained. She never thought that her years of practice would eventually lead her to take other people's lives.

Loretta didn't take any thrill in the murders themselves, but she did believe that the killings were justified. Some of the targets had killed people themselves. Others had damaged their victims to the point of self-destruction. It was a cruel world, and she was there to serve justice on a silver platter.

Coming to a halt in front of the door of her Biology class, Loretta noticed that today's lesson required them to dissect a swine. She frowned. The lifeless eyes of the pig reminded her of the ones on Sebastian Torres's when she had slit his throat the other day. And just as she had predicted, the school had barely spoken a word of his death. The Dean hadn't even bothered to hold a vigil. It was truly a pathetic way to go.

She exhaled and took a seat near the window of the classroom, as the morning's memories came flooding back in her mind. Loretta unlocked the latch of the glass. She hated the smell of blood, but she hated thieves even more. Valentin Locke was going down—six feet under.