Isla (ON HOLD)

Fourth One in a Week

Slamming his head on the table in frustration, Detective Lucas Canzanelli groaned and rubbed his eyes. This was the fourth missing persons case to come in in a week, and knowing the pattern, they would turn up dead in a couple of weeks.

Dealing with distraught families and friends of the deceased was most certainly not his forte.

A knock at his door brought him out of his thoughts.

'Detective?'

'What is it now Brenda?' he whined at his assistant.

'Director Webb is here to see you.' Great. Another high up lackey to pester him about this case.

'Send him in,' he sighed.

'Detective,' he nodded in acknowledgement, 'I'm gonna get right into it. Have you done the report for the latest missing persons file?'

Dang it! He completely forgot about that part.

'I'm judging by the look on your face you haven't got round to it yet?'

'Yes sir. There's just been to many of them this week,' he sighed out of frustration.

'He's been picking up the pace?'

'Fraid so sir.'

The killer had only been taking one girl a week, until now. Recently, they had been upping the momentum and taking one or two girls a week. Today was the first time there had been four taken.

'What do plan on doing about Canzanelli?'

'I'm working on it sir.'

That's the best he could offer at the moment. He really needed coffee to get his brain into gear.

'That's all I'm asking of you son, just don't let my daughter get taken and everyone will be happy.'

'Yes sir, I know how important she is to you.'

'Good to see we understand each other.' With that he turned and left.

'Good to see we understand each other,' He imitated in a deep voice. Jeez man yes it's your job, but no need to harass the man about your daughter. Especially if they've never even met each other.

Rubbing his temples, he could feel a headache coming on.

He really needed to get that coffee.

*****

Planning to surprise her dad, she was waiting at his house, but her father came home from work exhausted, his limp really showing, which could only mean one thing.

'Another one's been taken, haven't they?'

He froze.

Sighing, he rubbed his hands over his face, his tired blue eyes closing in a grimace.

'Yeah,' he whispered.

She sighed, she knew how much of a toll it took on his body, and his mind. He hated not being able to stop the killer from taking the girls, so he blamed himself.

'It's not your fault you know.'

'I know but... I feel like I could be doing more, or could've done more.'

'Dad, you're doing everything you possibly can. The killer will get tired and will start leaving clues, they all do.'

'That's what I'm worried about. If he gets tired, he might just start killing anyone, anywhere, not caring about leaving clues.'

'It won't come to that.'

It looked like he was going to argue further, but instead he just took a deep breath and sighed, 'Ok, I'm going to bed now, goodnight sweetheart,' he leaned in and kissed my cheek.

'Night dad,' I kissed his cheek in return.

*****

Calculating.

Cold.

Cruel.

Those were all the words used to describe him.

Others included,

Murderer.

Bastard.

Unforgiving, son of a bitch.

Well, they're all true. Especially that last one, his mother was a bitch.

He's relentless in his search.

They'll never find him.

They'll never know who he is.

They'll never catch him. Even if he was right in front of them.

They will never stop him from doing what he must do.

He's so close. Even if it means killing the person that mean the most to him, he must get what he wants. They'll realise eventually. Then everything will go back to the way it was.

He always gets what he wants. No matter the cost.