Tortured Dreams

Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

At ten in the morning, there was a knock on the door. I hadn't slept well the night before, but I hadn't slept well in almost twenty years. It is a side effect of my life.

McMichaels and Reece came into the apartment. They returned to the seats they had vacated the day before. Nyleena sat down next to me on the couch. She took hold of my hand.

"There's something I should tell you, before I get involved in this case," I took a deep breath. "I have a 'fan' for lack of a better word, although, 'creepy stalker' might work. I don't know who it is or where he is or much about him. He sends me letters on my birthday, a Christmas card at Christmas and once or twice a year, I get an extra letter from him. He signs his letters 'The Butcher' and describes his latest kill in graphic detail. It started right before I left for college. There was an incident that local reporters found newsworthy. I got the first letter about two weeks after that incident. By then though, I had moved to Michigan, so I don't know how he got my new address. He always seems to have my address. I reported it to the FBI, but they didn't have any victims matching his description, so they wrote it off as a hoax. My friend, Malachi Blake, works for the FBI and he now collects the stuff The Butcher sends me. Malachi has been trying to get a fix on him since the FBI wrote it off. It's a spare-time thing. Nyleena sees the letters and works on them from her end. So far, nothing has popped up on him."

"How many people know about it?" Reece asked.

"Including the people in this room?"

"Yes," Reece answered.

"Seven. The four of us, the original FBI agent, Malachi Blake and the guy who sends the letters."

"Are they threatening?" McMichaels asked.

"No, just twisted," I frowned. "I'd give you copies, but I don't keep the originals or any copies. I hand them all over."

"We will talk to someone and have them look more thoroughly into the matter," McMichaels answered.

"Ok, not sure it will do any good, but feel free to dig."

"How many victims would he be up to if he really is killing them?"

"It's been ten years, so ten birthdays, ten Christmases and a handful of others..." I shrugged. "At least twenty-one, but some years, I get two letters besides the usual."

"This year?" He asked.

"I've had only one besides the one on my birthday."

"I see," McMichaels seemed to think for a while. "Any connection to this case?"

"Only me, I just thought you should be aware of it."

"Well, I don't see that it will hinder anything," Reece joined back in.

"What now?"

"Now, we officially make you a consultant. Our unit is a trial unit; we've been together about three years. None of us could pass a psych test, so they didn't bother with that. There are four of us total, you will be working mostly with Xavier and myself, simply because Alejandro doesn't like consultants. He's a bit of an ass, but he's good at what he does. We have a geek, his name is Michael Giovanni. He does all our roving tech support. Xavier is our on scene medical examiner. I'm the pyschologist. I have a degree from Yale in psychology. Xavier and I both served as SEALS, not sure how we slipped in, but we did. Alejandro has a last name, he refuses to use it. We won't bother to tell you what it is because he'll yell loudly if you use it."

"An entire unit of head cases?" Nyleena raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, who better to track serial killers than functional monsters just one step away from being one themselves?" McMichaels looked at her. "Hence the word 'trial'. We've had good success so far, almost 100% on cases we've worked. Usually, two months is the average time we work a case. This one isn't average and isn't making us look very good."