Stalker

Chapter one~ first glance

Yellow police tape blocked off the house. I bend over and swing myself under the plastic tape into the crime scene.

Ahead of me was a fairly large two story house with a one car garage. The color of the walls was a shade of tan. Two rock pillars rise to support the roof that covers a 12 ft by 6 ft front porch. Two windows view into the top floor in the front while another, next to the blue front door, views into the living room.

I glance around to the crime scene investigators. "What do we have?"
A man with brown hair and a backwards hat that says "CSI" on it walks to me, his hazel eyes dim with the restless nights we've had. "A woman was found in her bathtub by her sister." He points over to a young woman sobbing on the porch.

"Any leads?" I turn back to the man.

He shakes his head. "None. The woman has multiple stab wounds on her torso and arms. Her face was left untouched."

A woman, who has a dim red hair and tired blue-green eyes, walks to me and the man. "The victim's name is Angie Tyler. She is 38 years old. No criminal record." She looks through a few papers she has clamped on a clipboard. "But, she does have some of the same descriptions as the victims from the other cases this week. Brown hair, brown eyes, late 30s."

I nod, solemnly. "Serial killer?"

The man speaks up. "It appears to be so."

I rub my goatee and walk through the open front door. "What have we found so far?"

"Gabi and Connor have told you about the victim, right?" A middle aged woman walks up to me with a camera.

"Yes. What evidence do we have?"

"All we have is what's upstairs in the master bathroom. Whoever did this is skilled with not being noticed."

I adjust my hat. "I'll go take a look. Is Doc here yet, Anne?"

"Not yet. I got a call from Hector. He said that the traffic is terrible."

I laugh. "I wouldn't expect anything less from rush hour."

I look around. The living room has two leather couches and a coffee table. Next to it is a formal dining room with a wine bottle and two half drunk glasses. I walk to the kitchen. Dishes pile high on the counter and in the sink. Everything else seems spotless. The family room has one flat screen tv, a surround sound system, two reclining chairs and another couch is the only furniture. I head up the stairs, which is next to the family room but you enter it through the kitchen. Upstairs is a loft. Hunting trophies mount the walls and form tables and chairs. The master bedroom is to my right and I enter.

The bed is sloppy and unmade, the short dresser is covered with bills and unopened letters. A walk in closet is to the left and the bathroom is to the right.

In the bathroom, the young woman lie motionless in a tub full of blood and water. Multiple lacerations show on her shoulders and neck. I glance around the bathroom. Blood splatters the walls and mirror. A slight gasp escapes my mouth as I realize that the splatter on the mirror is note written in blood: "go to sleep." I pull out my camera and start taking pictures of the blood splatters and the mysterious note.

"Zach, the chief has been trying to get ahold of you." Connor holds up his old fashioned flip phone to me. "It's urgent."

I sigh and take the phone. "Yes, sir?"

"I have a serious question for you." The chief's voice is stern.

"Shoot."

"On a wall or somewhere, does it say 'go to sleep'?"

I nearly drop the phone. "Y- yes, sir. How'd you know?"

The chief lets out a long, frustrated sigh. "I know who the killer is."

"Really?" My eyes light up. "Who?"
Silence.

"Sir?"

"I'm sorry." He says finally. "This man killed my wife."

"If you tell me who it is, I swear, I will catch him." I nod firmly as I look at the mirror.

"No. Zachariah, I don't want you to go after him. It's too dangerous."

"But-"

"No butts! Zach, I won't be able to live with myself if my only son was killed by him."

"Him?"

"Jeff the killer."

My fingers loosen and the phone slips and falls on the floor.

Connor bends down and grabs the phone. "Boss, is everything okay?"

My body trembles and my faces burns red with anger. "This guy killed my mother..." I close my teary eyes as a droplet of water slips down my cheek. I open them suddenly and fury burns within them. "I swear, I'm going to catch him."

"Do we know who it is?" He closes the phone and slides it back into his pocket.

I take a shaky breath before replying. "Jeff the killer."

"Jeff... Jeff..." He ponders his memory. "I don't recall anyone titled 'Jeff the killer'."

I shake my head. "That's right, you're new here."

Connor nods. "I've lived here for a little over two months."

"Well, it's a case that's two years old. This kid was burned in a fire, he went mentally insane, and you can figure the rest out yourself."

"How old?"

"As far as we know, early teens. He went off and slaughtered a lot of people." I sigh. "Poor kid went through a lot." I glance at the body. "I wish I could've helped him out. I was on the case when the fire started."
Just then, a man in his late 50s walks in followed by a man just out of college. "Jeff was a... Very troubled kid." Doc sets down his equipment and inspects the bodies. "Everyone wanted to help him."

"Jeff...?" The young man cocks his head slightly.

"Hector, you won't know the story." Doc studies the wounds on the woman's arm.

I smirk, "We could put you and Connor-" I jerk my head to Connor, "in a room together. Neither of you were here during that incident."
Doc chuckles. "Okay I need help lifting the body out of here."