Big Book of Little Stories

Killer: Part Two | Catching a Killer.

Three days after Jill's funeral, Victor managed to get out of bed. Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he looked much older than his thirty-five years. His dark hair had a good shimmer of silver through it now, and since he hadn't shaved for nearly a week, those pesky strands of age now littered the starting of his beard too.

He'd dedicated so much of his life to catching the worst of the population and where did that leave him now?

No where.

Years of hard work were for nothing as he had become the one responsible for so many deaths. it was more than a game of catch me if you can. He'd done that before, but this was different. It was personal and had been since Carlee was dragged into the game and then the others after her.  

Why?

He had no idea and it was eating at him nearly to the point of insanity. Every case had a reason, a clue; but this guy? He was like a ghost. The only evidence he existed at all was due to the victims he left behind.

The victims. 

The pattern was easy to see now and going into his office, Victor found the list of places he frequented. He was onto something with this. He could feel it. It was going to get him that one step ahead and at the prospect of finally turning the tables, Victor managed to smile. That soon gave way to hysterical laughter, which lasted until he finished his shower.

Getting control of himself, he knew he had  found a way in. He was going to end it. After finding clothes that didn't need washing, like everything else in his home after days of abandonment, he was on the phone to his director as he rushed out the door with the same enthusiasm of a child getting out of class early.  "Leo, I have an idea. See you in twenty!"

                                                                            -x-

 No one spoke once Victor revealed his plan. The director and two of the other agents that sat in on the meeting were in agreeance with Victor, yet Carla sat there stone faced and unwilling to go along with the idea of setting up a possible target. The killer was always a step ahead of them, they were literally grasping at straws so what's to say this wouldn't end up as nothing more than another dead end?

"Vic, you're too close to this case! Are we really contemplating putting another woman's life at risk?" She snapped, glaring at the three men.

"I don't think we have any other choice," the director said, leaning back in his chair. Pulling out a white hanker-chief, he dotted his forehead and the fever from his cold left him aching to return to bed. He wanted this bastard caught more than anyone, the pressure he was under probably what bought on his illness in the first place. Victor's plan made sense and he was going to support it.

"Seriously?" Carla whined, looking at the other duo for the support she wasn't going to get.

"Do what you need to do Victor."

 So he did. A new girl was hired at his favourite lunch bar. An extra effort went into talking back to her, two weeks on you'd think they were friends. She started to draw a smiley face on his sub wrapper, which was always ready for him to pick up. They'd share a laugh, and she'd shamelessly flirt with Victor. Keeping true to character, most of it was lost on him as it always had been until one Friday.

"It's probably not very professional, but maybe we could grab a drink after work?" Larissa smiled, her cheeks warming as she blushed.

"Ah," Victor hesitated. "No. Sorry."

He told Carla later that afternoon; confused more than anything else. "You have to be the thickest man on the planet! They all flirt with you. You just don't see it."