The Face Book Killer Caylin Christo Book 2.

The Facebook Killer Chapter 11 Gone to Ground.

After the devastating events at Fat Sam's nobody felt hungry. Caylin, Tony and Amy, along with Hector and Grace had headed back to Caylin's house for coffee and to talk about the night's events.
They would be buried in paperwork tomorrow.

Special Agent Sharon Dugan was regretfully informing the BAU Chief Agent about the sting gone awry. Already her ears were aching from him yelling down the phone at her.
Worse still, her heart was breaking for his poor victims and the many more that would surely follow because she had missed something.

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He drove like a bat out of hell away from New Orleans. He was headed to a little hamlet a few miles away where Grampy Fred's fishing lodge was situated. He was gritting his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache. Things had been going so well! Why did that FBI bitch have to spoil everything?
He was living back in New Orleans, back near Willie and the home he had grown up in. He had a job he liked, and one that no one paid him much attention considering the size of the place.
And his girls. He'd have to leave them. No time to transport them to Grampy Fred's.
Grampy Fred's. The thought of the old place made him smile. Especially when he remembered he had friends awaiting him there as well. Not just six, oh no! There were at least sixteen girl soup's in a can stashed near the old boat house. He could hide out there for a few days, he could call in sick for work, then he could maybe slip back when the heat was off.

But first, he needed a new appearance.

He slowed his pace, mindful that getting a speeding ticket right now would not be in his favour.

He stopped at a strip mall just outside New Orleans. Whilst there he bought some spare clothes, blonde hair dye and a self tanning kit. He also bought a pair of prescription look glasses and a ball cap. When he was done he tossed the credit card in the nearest trash can, then used his cell to cancel the card as stolen and get a new one.

As he got back in his car and drove he counted what was in his favour, 1. They didn't know his name or where he lived. 2. They still had no proof. 3. By the time became back to New Orleans no one would recognize him.

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In the days following the disastrous sting, there hadn't been so much as a nibble from their killer. After much consultation within the NORPD and FBI, they finally decided to go against the grain and out the killer in the media. And the media lapped it up. Particularly when Agent Durant named him The Facebook Killer.
They were hoping to draw him out by either incensing him to make a mistake from the unwanted attention, or make him so cocky he might contact them. However like everything else they tried it failed.
Caylin had been sleeping like a stone at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. No dreams, visions or ghostly visits.

Time was going on, perhaps the killer had killed himself? He sure was quiet. A worse thought was he had gone to ground else where and was setting up a new life and would soon resume activites.
No new reports of similar deaths or disappearances were coming in from any where.
Had he just disappeared off the face of the Earth?

Six weeks had gone by with agonizing slowness, Agent Durant and her team were packing up shop, ready to head back to Quantico, when a very interesting phone call from Det. Hines stopped them in their tracks.

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Frannie Weatherstone was at her post in the lobby of The Magnolia Grove retirement home. Although only nineteen Frannie loved her job. She adored older people, she loved their stories and old fashioned manners.
She had been busy organizing some Doctor appointments for some of the residents when she saw Willie Edwards approaching the desk. As soon as she saw the cute little old lady she felt her heart break a little. Willie was coming to ask if her grandson had been in touch.
"Good afternoon Frannie dear!" She said shuffling over to greet the young woman.
"Hello Mrs Edwards." Frannie said gently.
The old lady raised her eyebrows, "Anything?"
"I'm sorry honey." Frannie replied, "May I get you a tea?"
"Oh no thank you sweetie. I'm worried about Larry, he's never been away for so long."
"Perhaps he's ill, there is a nasty flue going around." Frannie offered.
Willie nodded, "Would you try his number again?"
Frannie obliged, the old lady's eyesight made it hard for her to dial, the phone rang and rang.
"Sorry Mrs Edwards." She said hanging up.
"Thank you dear." Willie said and shuffled away.
Poor old dear thought Frannie, she was broken out of her thoughts as Trisha her superviser asked if she would like a tea break.
Frannie nodded and went to make herself some Chai and grab a couple of cinnamon cookies.
She took her snack into the TV room to watch the 4:30 news with some of the residents.
She was just finishing her tea, and thinking about what she would wear for Halloween tomorrow, when a story came on the news about the Serial Killer police were still looking for in New Orleans and how it had been six weeks since he had been spotted.
It was at that moment Willie glided into the room and sat down, chatting away to her friend Mrs Beecher.
It was at that moment a bell went off in Frannie's mind. Didn't Larry go missing six weeks ago? Her first thought was maybe that he had run foul of the killer as he made his escape. But no, he only killed young women.
It was the next view on the news screen that made her hear beat speed up and her palms sweat. There, on the screen was a composite of the killer. He had longer, darker hair than Larry, but the same piercing blue eyes and squarish jaw. But what really tipped Frannie off was the family crest that hung on a thong around his neck. The Edwards' family crest, a reminder of long ago Scottish heritage. Frannie looked over at dear sweet gentle Willie laughing over something Mrs Beecher was showing her in the paper.
An identical charm hung around Willie's neck on a fine silver chain.

Frannie bolted out of the chair and ran to tell Trisha she needed to call the police.

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Six weeks. Six weeks of working from home, calling in to tell his boss he was sick with a bad flu, but could he work from home? All he needed was a phone and his lap top. His boss was so impressed he said sure!
Six weeks of disappointing his grandmother, he had yet to call her. He couldn't think of a way to lie to her. Nobody ever lied to Willie. She would be frantic by now. It was time to go back.
Besides, the rage was reaching boil over point. He needed the release of hot squirting blood and terrorized screams. The release of ridding the world of another bad woman.
Since the cops and Feds had ratted out his modus operandi on the news he had, had to stay away from Facebook. The chickens were aware of the fox in the henhouse now.
However he was not without a thought of whom he would go after next. That slut Donna Louise had a sister. A sister who no doubt was just like her. Leanne.
Leanne perfect name for a slut. And better yet, he already knew where she lived, and that she, like her sister was alone. He had gotten all of that information from Donna's pocket book. An old school girl, Donna still kept an address book in her hand bag.
Larry liked to keep a bird in the bush in case situations like this arose and he was unable to meet his next victim through the usually channels.
Although loathe to deviate even more from routine, he smirked thinking that the law would never see him coming this time.
A good old fashioned snatch and grab.
He cracked his knuckles and stood up. He went out to his car, noticing the icy chill in the air and the thick clouds that were scudding across the sky. The cold front coming down from the North.
Looked like the prediction of snow for Halloween was right, however improbable for the usually sultry climate of New Orleans. Global warming they all said. Well if warming, why so cold? Funny how the experts were always such dumb asses. He shook his head as he climbed into the vehicle. Smiling at the jingle the snow chains made as he drove out of Grampy Fred's old garage.

First a visit to Willie,  to explain his absence. He decided to go with a white lie and tell her he had an extreme throat infection and had been unable to talk.
Then he would pay a visit to Miss Leanne Louise.

As he drove out into the night, the first few flakes of snow began spiraling out of the cold Louisiana sky.