The Symbologist

Chapter 9

Four women stared down at him. A strawberry-brunette, a brunette, a blonde, and an albino. They all wore smiles that had been turned upside down with the help of a black sharpie. Below the row of women, a lone woman sat in a picture. She was a noirette with eyes so dark they looked black. She wasn't with the other women because she was a fake, not worthy of fitting in with the other women.

He held up a picture of a woman, the same as he had done for the picture of every other woman pinned to his cork board. The difference was, this woman was above all of the previous women, this one was special. She had the hair of the strawberry-brunette, the freckles of the brunette, the eyes of the blonde, and the lips of the albino.

She was the grand kill.

...

It was considerably late when Sergeant Carla Lostin made it back to the station. Her unexpected encounter with Hayden didn't go too South. Carla was ready to fight him even though she was sure she would lose when Hayden started laughing and let go of her hand.

"I'll let you go this time," he had said, making chills run down Carla's spine.

Could she even report him? It wasn't like he'd really done anything....well, yet, she thought.

Could he be their killer?

Sergeant Carla took out her notepad and decided she'd add Hayden to her list of suspects.

She wrote:

Suspect: Hayden Lemming

Lied about knowing victim Jillian Han.

Alibi: unknown

Motive: psychopath...?

Opportunity: unknown

Carla let out a frustrated sigh and buried her face in her hands. Everything was unknown, nothing was known, she was getting nowhere, absolutely nowhere! Think, she told herself. She would go over what she did know.

Hayden lied about knowing Jillian. She never asked him if he knew the other victims, but did he? If he did, would he tell the truth? Did Jillian displease him in any way? Did he abuse her? According to Trinity, Simon abused Suzanne. Unfortunately, Trinity was killed not long after she told the police Simon was abusing Suzanne. Did Simon kill Trinity because she told the police? It seemed too obvious yet so plausible....Then there was Jessica, who knew all of the victims through drug dealing with them. Was it all just a coincidence that the victims all did drugs and they all had Jessica as their supplier? Wait...Jillian didn't do drugs...and Carla had no idea if Trinity did, something she should've probably looked into. If all the victims but Jillian did, could that mean that Jillian had committed suicide after all? And back to Jessica, Sugars and her seemed to have some beef or...history together. What was that all about? And furthermore, what did all the murders have in common? Purple crop tops, strange symbol carved into stomachs. Wait...Jillian's crop top was from a different store than the rest. But if she had committed suicide and staged it as murder, does that mean she carved the symbol in her own stomach before she died? The thought almost made Carla gag. Her thoughts just kept rambling on and on and on and there seemed like no end....

After an hour or so, Carla decided to head home. She wasn't the last person at the station as there were still a few officers working. Carla voiced her goodnight and headed out to her car. She was exhausted and needed to catch up on missed sleep. Knowing a serial killer was on the loose was enough to have anyone feeling unrest, especially women.

Sighing, Carla set her bag down on the front passenger seat and started the car, rolling down her window to feel the autumn breeze. Too bad such a beautiful, elegant season could be ruined by something so dark.

...

The man sat on his bed, thinking about absolutely nothing, his mind blank. It was something he had been practicing recently, emptying the mind, finding peace with the subtle comfort of nothingness. It was helpful for sleep, when his mind would race the most, but it also brought him a sense of calmness and relaxation, something he had been missing in his life recently.

Zoning out of his empty state of mind, he walked over to his rocking armchair and sat down, letting his thoughts wander. He supposed he was a good actor. He had always fantasized being one and he considered himself a creative soul.

It was a typical autumn night and the man decided he'd head over to the bar just across the street. So he grabbed his keys and slipped on a pair of sneakers before walking out the door. He was going to celebrate tonight, celebrate another successful mission accomplished.