Wolves of Haven : Lone

No Rest for the Wicked

"Hey," Damian said, turning the water to the shower off with one hand while holding his cell phone to his ear with the other. "Is everything okay, Latria Mou?" he asked; he had been waiting for her call.

Akia sighed. "No, not really," she eventually said after a long stretch of silence before popping a pill in her mouth.

He wrapped a towel around his waist then headed into the bedroom. "What's going on? Is your father okay?" he asked, greatly concerned.

"You'll most likely get a call from an annoying and inept Inspector from the Haven Police Department," she mumbled.

Damian groaned; that was never the start of a good conversation. "What'd you do?"

"Stumbled into the middle of a serial killer investigation," she said as if it was obvious, and he laughed, thinking she was kidding. "The perp is trying to disguise each kill as if they're animal attacks, taking one out of the Kodiak Killer's book."

That stole the mirth from him. "You're serious?"

"Sadly, yes. The bodies are being dumped on the beach just outside of my family's estate," Akia explained as she made herself comfortable in Faelan's oversized bed. "Possibly it was a counter forensics measure initially, or simply a body dump of convenience since the first was accidental, that was more than obvious, but now I fear that it's personal. Father or the family is being targeted."

Damian pushed his hand through his wet hair in frustration; if they were targeting her family that meant they were targeting her, and that he wouldn't permit. "How many?"

"Five that have turned up," she said. "The most recent was discovered less than forty-eight hours ago, that was when Varg called."

Softly he snarled under his breath.

"The perp has a taste for the kill now," she continued as she absently twirled a damp lock of her own hair around her fingers.

Damian shook his head; he knew where this was going. "Progression?" he asked.

"Escalating quickly," she said, sounding exhausted. "From point of first kill to most recent, is countable in weeks. Time between kills is getting shorter with each victim. I fear that if he continues at this pace, he'll have a victim or more a week, and that's only because he's learned to keep them alive for fun before he breaks his toy. The fourth was captive for approximately five days before breaking... Something doesn't feel right about it," she admitted, finally speaking her concerns aloud to the one person she trusted and respected more than any other in the world of criminal justice.

He sighed, kicking himself in the ass for not going with her to Haven since she needed him in more than just the physical sense; she needed his expertise as well. "I'm listening," he said.

"The first three were sloppy," Akia said, struggling to explain what she saw in front of her when it pertained to the case, but no one else apparently saw it. "The fourth, the jump from savagely attacking without a sense of purpose to the refinement that the fourth presented, was much too quickly of an escalation for the perp. He went from toddler with a loaded gun, in a sense, to a kid with a knife, then a teenager with a hatchet, to a master with patience, knowledge, and skill. That rapid escalation doesn't make any sense, and it shouldn't be possible...unless he got guidance."

Damian's eyes widened. "The most recent?" he asked, taking notes in his head and fighting the nausea that nearly had him doubling over.

"Gruesome even for my experience," she admitted. "I'll text you a picture of the three Does, but it won't be helpful for the fifth; he took his frustration out on the body. If guidance was suddenly given, the teacher was apparently absent for the temper tantrum that ensued."