New Game

Another Kidnapping

(Michael is not mentioned in this chapter. This chapter is shorter than usual.)

It was only now, eight months and two more victims later, Harold thought he may have made a huge mistake joining the Finger Fetcher case. They were no further than they had been and two more people were dead.

Harold had been pouring over the most recent victim, a mare named Callie Gil. She had been missing for three months, until a week ago when a young man working part-time at a deli, came across her corpse lying next to the dumpster while taking out the trash. The woman's body had been pulverized. His hands were so chipped that the bone was exposed. Both of her legs had been broken and were arranged at unnatural angles. Her fingers had been removed. The young man had been utterly traumatized. His parents hadn't been able to get him to speak for days.

They had zero leads. Not so much as a single person had seen Callie Gil since she had left her job as a bank teller at five on the dot the night she disappeared. Harold was about to give up on ever finding the Finger Fetcher.

Harold glanced at the clock, it was almost four in the morning. He had to go home and get some sleep. He had been studying the case file for hours and his mind was numb. He brushed his hair from his tired eyes and pushed himself up from his desk. Quinn shoved some papers into his bag and threw it over his back.

Harold walked out into the hallway of the BI and directly into a large figure. He looked up into a set of familiar eyes, "Oh hey, Gloria." he greeted the older woman with a small smile, which she returned. She was some good inches taller than Harold and wore her badge on a chain around her neck. He and Gloria had been roommates when they were in the academy and equally competitive nature with a shared love of excitement had forged a lasting friendship.

"Hey Quinn, are you leaving?" she asked. Gloria sipped at the cup of coffee in her hand and offered it to Harold who shook his head. No amount of caffeine would be able to help him at this point, he was beyond repair.

"Yeah, I've hit a wall with the Fetcher case." Harold confessed, "I really need to catch a few z's and look at things with fresh eyes in the morning. How are things in narcotics?" he asked Gloria, leaning against the wall in the hallway casually. It was more to keep him upright than anything since he thought he might fall asleep on the spot.

"It's tough being undercover."

"Yeah?"

Suddenly, a blur flew into the hallway and slammed directly into the wall. A picture crashed to the floor with a giant clatter. Startled, Harold and Gloria stared as the other individual struggled to his feet. Breathless and wild-eyed, Marley managed to right himself. "Quinn!" even under pressure, his voice was soft.

"What's wrong Marley?" Harold rushed to his side, his voice filled with concern. Gloria was at a loss. She had gone into narcotics because she was terrible at dealing with victims. She tried to hand Marley her coffee cup, hoping the warm beverage would calm him, but the man ignored the gesture.

"Quinn!" Marley cried, "There's been another kidnapping!"

Harold gulped.