Idyllic | Evan Buckley

Catfisher

She was the fourth body in a slew of murders. The poor woman wasn't any different from the others: same blonde hair, blue eyes, and a skinny frame. She looked like she just walked out of a magazine.

"Strangulation. Same as the others." The Coroner's assistant pointed out the marks on the woman's neck.

"Still no fingerprints?" Cara asked.

"None." He shook his head. "The only thing different about this attack is the victim has a broken toe. Her big toe."

"Can you tell how she broke it?"

"My best guess is something heavy fell on it. Her bone wasn't just fractured; it was crushed."

Cara-Maria sighed. Fore bodies, and they were no closer to finding this bastard than they were three fucking bodies ago.

"Okay. Thank you." She handed the man a card. "If you find anything else, let me know."

He nodded, and they bid polite goodbyes. She drove her way back to the precinct in silence. Mulling over in her head, what could they be doing wrong? What have they missed? And where the hell is this man?

"Detective?" A voice called from behind her.

She turned to see Officer Grant. Someone she'd worked with a few times. The woman had a reputation very similar to Cara's. Dedicated, hard-working, and beyond terrifying.

"Officer Grant?" She smiled. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"The man used to catfish the latest victim in your case?" Cara nodded.

"Evan Buckley, 26-years-old, resident firefighter. Seems like a decent guy."

"I know him," Grant stated. "He does seem to be a good guy—a little overzealous but genuine nonetheless."

"Most of the men this guy is choosing seem good people," Cara said. "Do you think that could be purposeful?"

"If it is, that means he's probably stalking them. At least in some capacity."

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about."

-

Cara walked into the 118, file in hand. Glancing around, she noticed two firefighters leaning up against a truck.

"Can we help you?" a nice-looking woman asked Cara as she approached."

"I'm looking for Evan Buckley?"

The two firefighters turned to each other, wondering if this was going to be a repeat of what happened a few days ago.

"Sure, he's upstairs."

She followed the two firefighters to a large loft area. A man was cooking something that smelled amazing. Two men were playing what seemed to be a very intense game of goldfish at the table, and another was playing Mario Cart on the couch.

"Buck. You have a visitor." The woman said.

The man on the couch paused his game, facing the three of them. When Cara and Buck locked eyes, his own widened.

"Listen, if this is about dating apps, I'm not him!" He exclaimed. "That isn't me. I swear!"

"You know about the catfishing?" Cara asked.

The man looked confused but nodded.

"I'm Detective McCoy - the lead detective in the recent catfish killer murders. I'd like to speak with you."

The loft went quiet. His eyes broke her heart. They were wide and teary when he asked, and the look of heartbreak was evident. He knew what was going on.