“Did you get it?” Filip asked for at least the fourth ti in the past fifteen minutes.
The woman sighed deeply and turned to him slowly.
“There were fifteen minutes left when you asked five minutes ago. Now there are ten. Let work,” she said and turned back to the computer screen.
They spent the next ten minutes in tense silence. The mont the clock’s minute hand ticked over to the next number, Rey could see Filip draw in a breath—but before anyone could react, a short table popped up on the computer screen.
“Got it,” the woman said.
“You’re a genius,” Filip said excitedly as he looked over her shoulder.
“Hm. My skill at using table filters is unmatched within the FBI,” she said slowly.
As she spoke, she got up from the chair, moving it aside so Rey could wheel Josh closer. They read the short list of nas, and all three stopped at one in particular.
“Richard Strauston,” Rey read aloud, and Elen—the young woman who helped them with the search—clicked the na. A sizable rap sheet showed on the screen.
“Six feet, 250 pounds, arrested twice for inappropriate behavior towards minors, but his lawyer got him off in both cases. A whole list of complaints and reports, but nothing concrete for the police. The FBI had him on a list, I see,” Filip said. “Reported missing two weeks ago. It has the veiled man all over it.”
Rey and Josh nodded.
“Okay, so what’s your angle?” Elen asked, curious about their reactions.
“We’re checking multiple theories,” Rey answered almost on instinct.
“Hm. I’ve been feeding you information for the past two weeks, and I’m starting to think I should just take it all to Dwayne.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Josh said from beside her.
She turned to him with raised eyebrows, sizing the n up.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “But still—you owe an explanation.”
The three n looked at one another for a second before bringing their gazes back to the woman.
“We have a theory,” Filip said slowly, carefully choosing his words. “The unsub chooses his victims very carefully, but we believe that there are actually two types of targets. One is the typical criminal, usually related to so sort of violent criminal organization. Those he mows down and moves on. But usually, there are missing-person cases that can be tied to those cris. They aren’t obvious at first glance, but at the recent gang killing, one of the gang leaders was missing…”
“Soone mowed down his entire operation in one night,” Elen said, skeptical of the theory. “He’s probably hiding. Or he’s dead like the rest.”
“He’d be the only one who got away from the hideout?” Josh asked, but his words only deepened Elen’s frown.
“We didn’t have him listed in the report. Why do you think he was there?” she said, and Josh winced.
“His n were there,” Rey cut in. “So the leader should have been as well.”
“Or they went there to change sides, and the boss got betrayed and killed,” Elen repeated Dwayne’s explanation.
“Sure,” Filip cut in. “That’s why it’s only a theory. But bear with us. At each cri scene, you could find a person who fits the following description—soone with fouler cris, usually sexual in nature, and at the sa ti physically fit. Not like a runner, but strong, muscular n. For four of the six cri scenes we have, there was always a person who could reasonably be associated with that cri scene, fit the profile, and is now reported missing. For the fifth cri scene, an unrelated man went missing the next day. A local P.E. teacher fitting that description. And for our sixth—well, I think you just found him.”
“Okay.” Elen slowly nodded. “Let’s say you’re correct. So what does this give you?”
“They were separate targets. It seems that whenever he goes on a killing spree, he also prepares transportation—or whatever it is he does with them—for one additional living target. But in these two cases, no one at the main location must have fit his criteria. And that ans separate stalking of the victim. Separate approach and attack. More opportunities to make a mistake. All we need is one clear shot of his face on so traffic cara.”
“Well, I’m not entirely convinced… but good luck.” Elen looked back at the computer screen. “Jorville. Sounds like a lovely place.”
After gathering all the necessary information, they set out the next day for Jorville, as Rey read through the case docuntation. According to it, it was a mid-sized town in Florida. Far enough from the main highway running across the state to be considered quiet and off the grid, yet relatively close to civilization and well connected to the bigger cities. That was also what made it a perfect spot for an illegal prostitution ring. The organization used the town to keep trafficked won and then ship them to clients in Jacksonville and Orlando. That was until almost all of the main mbers were found massacred one morning.
“I don't see any reasonable connection to that Strauston guy,” Rey comnted after skimming the docuntation for anything new.
“Good, so it should be a separate target, right?” Josh said.
“Right, but I don’t see anything on the guy either. His local records are surprisingly clean for soone with that reputation.”
“Read the local chief's surna,” Filip said.
Rey finally found the information and groaned when he saw the na Strauston written across the paper.
“The only other local ntion we have is an article,” Filip said, pointing to one of the hastily printed docunts, “by Lan Emt.”
“I hate reporters. Can’t we go to his father right away?” Rey said.
“I’m sure the local police chief will love that inquiry. ‘Hey, we heard your son’s a massive fucking pervert—could you tell us more about it, and how he went missing?’” Josh said, to which Rey chuckled.
“If she stuck her nose into the local chief’s family, then it’s our best shot,” Filip comnted. “And judging by her track record, there’s a good chance she did just that.”
“Let’s hope so,” Filip said with a sigh, taking a turn off the highway and onto the road leading towards the town.
“Lan…” the man behind the desk spoke in an even voice, his brows drawn so tightly together they almost rged into one unibrow. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, waving a stack of papers.
“Look, I’m telling you—there’s sothing going on,” Lan pressed on, ignoring the papers in front of her face. “They are hiding sothing from us. The cri rate is skyrocketing across the world. There are people going missing and—”
She was readying an entire speech about her career case, but her boss interrupted, reading an article out loud.
“‘Local mafia ring killed by a vigilante, case swept under rug.’”
“I’m telling you. This slls, it—”
“‘Unanswered killings in Bay Harbour.’”
“The explanation they gave is—” she began, but got cut off once again—this ti the man’s voice was even louder and more strained.
“‘Burned bodies found near giraffe enclosures all across the country.’”
A small stretch of awkward silence blanketed the room before she broke it.
“I an, two zoos have the sa reports. It’s weird, and if—”
“Lan. I… you’re talented, you really are. You have a way with words, but this…” He took a deep breath before continuing in a heavy voice. “Look, when you fucked with the local law enforcent, I covered for you. I sent you out of state. I gave you a chance. And this is what you give in return? Unanswered killings and… giraffes?”
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Lan stared, silent.
“I don’t want to do this, but after your last stunt… you’re a liability.”
“Wait, you can’t fire .”
“I—” The man started speaking in a heavy voice, but the sound of the office door opening cut him off.
“Ummm, sorry,” the secretary said, popping her head into the room. “There are three n downstairs.”
“Tell them to wait,” the man barked.
“They are saying they’re from the FBI.”
“My contacts,” Lan blurted out without thinking.
Her boss looked at her with a frown.
“Yeah. They’re about a case I’m working on. Just give a chance, eh?” She went on. “It’s a real Pulitzer in the making.”
The man was clearly struggling with the decision, but he had always had a soft spot for the girl, so he relented and nodded. “Don’t fuck this one up,” he called after her.
Lan bolted down the stairs to look for her saviors, thanking her lucky stars for the interruption. Making her way to the door, she stopped. Then, quickly using a small handheld mirror she pulled out from her purse, she adjusted her hair, trying to make herself look as professional as possible. That turned out to be a hard task. What the mirror showed her was an image of a woman who might have just gotten out of bed. Her long black hair was all over the place, matching the dark circles under her dark brown eyes.
After adjusting her white shirt up and then back down to hide a stain behind the belt of her trousers, she finally decided it was the best she was going to get.
Stepping outside, she saw the three n in question: one older gentleman wearing a coat despite the Floridian heat, one large, military-looking middle-aged man, and one younger man in a wheelchair.
“So what case can I help you with, gentlen?” she asked, approaching with what she hoped were sure, even steps as she stretched out her hand for a greeting.
“Hello, Miss Lan,” the older one greeted. “Are you aware of a man by the na of Richard Strauston?”
At those words, she almost tripped.
“Oh fuck,” she groaned.
They moved to a café to get out of the sun, and after ordering, the ti finally ca for the talk Lan was dreading.
“Look,” she said slowly. “I’m not supposed to go near his case. I already got a warning the last ti and—”
“Miss Lan,” Filip cut in. “We’re not so local cops, and we’re not afraid of the chief. Let assure you, he can’t squash an FBI investigation or bother FBI personnel. If you were to help us with this, we can prevent any fallout.”
She sat there in silence, calculating. But even if she got caught sticking her nose into the Richard case once again, what was the worst-case scenario? Would they fire her? She was pretty sure her boss was already trying to do just that.
“Okay. But I want rights to the story. Full rights, and everything related to it.”
“There won’t be a story.” Filip shook his head.
“Then there won’t be any information.”
“We can pay you,” Rey said, but she shook her head.
“I’m not interested in money. I need an article,” she said.
The two n looked to the one in the wheelchair. Lan noticed he had been looking at her with a growing frown for the past few minutes, and as the two gazed at him, he finally nodded ever so slightly.
“Okay,” Filip said. “You get the story.”
Lan was taken aback. Law enforcent rarely agreed so easily, but she was not about to wait for him to back out of the idea, so she pulled out a recorder to get a verbal confirmation just in case.
“Okay,” Filip said, getting to the point after promising her exclusive rights. “I need to know what he was doing before the disappearance. Where might he have been on the night of the second?”
“Wait, he went missing at night?” the woman asked, frowning. “The police have a large window. My contacts said at least a few days. The night of… wait. You think he was involved with the prostitution ring killings?”
Filip winced slightly.
“We’re just following up on leads. There’s nothing concrete.”
“Ooooh, that’s cop speech for when you hit the nail on the head,” she said, shifting in her seat with excitent. “So why would gang dealings be related to our local predator, huh?”
“Miss Lan—”
“You promised the story, rember?”
“Yes,” Rey cut in. “And for now, we gave you what seems to be at least an interesting lead, while you haven’t provided anything in return.”
The woman looked at him for a few seconds before nodding. “So you know about that disgusting little pig, right?” The three nodded. “So when I was, um… ‘obtaining information,’ I found out he’s a stalker with a long history. There had been no assault in our town, but I dug up his father’s papers, and they moved from town to town across state lines twice. In the last town, they moved the mont there was a story about two young girls being assaulted. When I got caught snooping around, he was getting closer to Diana, a twelve-year-old girl from the town. Nothing dangerous had happened so far, but the kid told the mother. The mother went to the police, but ‘they can’t do anything about him being in public spaces.’”
“Okay, so you think he was sowhere near them when he went missing?”
“Oh, not just around. The two cases from the previous town they had lived in—they never caught the guy, but the victims complained about a stalker looking into their windows at night.”
“You think he was at their house when he got taken?” Rey said.
“Yes.”
After a short drive, they arrived at a sizable house a few minutes away from the town center. It was a two-story building with a well-kept garden in front and a small forest behind it.
After they knocked, a middle-aged woman opened the door. She imdiately recognized Lan, but then frowned upon seeing the three n behind the reporter.
“Hello,” Lan greeted. “Can we co in?”
“Ummm. I’m a bit busy—” the woman started, clearly uncomfortable, but Lan cut her off.
“It’s okay, they’re with ,” she said without hesitation, which made Rey’s eyebrows shoot up. “It’s about the chief’s son,” she added in a conspiratorial tone.
“Yeah. Sorry, I’m really busy and—”
Rey frowned at that. His instincts were tingling at the woman’s reaction. Would a mother whose young daughter was getting unwanted attention from a stalker refuse any help? Lan spoke about her as if she were almost a friend, and there had been no hostility when she opened the door and saw Lan—only awkwardness.
“Miss, we’re from the FBI. I assure you, you are in no trouble, but we do need your help,” Rey cut in. “We would like to talk about Richard and offer protection if needed.”
Lan turned to him with a strange look, and Filip frowned at his approach, but his words just caused more hesitation in the woman. Rey’s theory was confird when he noticed Josh was also frowning deeply.
“I’m very thankful, but please, there is no need,” she said awkwardly, closing the door. “I’m busy, he's missing, and there were no more incidents. I would really like to go and—”
“He’s missing for now. He might still co back… Unless you have a reason to believe otherwise?” Rey asked.
The door stopped closing. He hit the nail on the head.
“I assure you, we aren’t here to judge. We just need information. Your na won’t even be anywhere near the case,” Filip caught on.
“Please,” Lan added.
The woman finally relented, letting them inside. After getting them seated in the living room, she disappeared up the stairs and then ca back down carrying a laptop.
“Look, I didn’t want to obstruct any investigations or anything, but he’s the chief's son and—” She took a deep breath before steadying herself. “Miss Lan told about the possible stalking. So after that, I installed so caras,” the woman spoke as Lan nodded. “But we didn’t want anyone to know about them, so we bought a few toys with hidden caras and put them on the lawn.”
“My idea,” Lan piped up.
As the woman spoke, she opened a folder on her computer and brought up a video.
“Well, we actually caught footage on the second night,” she said, and then pointed to the screen.
There, they saw an image recorded by a cara in night mode. The footage was grainy and not much was visible, but it was clear there was a silhouette near the back of the house by the trees.
“I wanted to go to the police right away. I an, with footage, they had to act—chief’s son or not—right? But my husband said that we can’t see his face here.” The woman took a deep breath before continuing. “So we moved the cara closer to that spot and…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she just played another recording.
On it, once again, footage of the forest at night showed. The woman sped it up until a silhouette could be seen. The toy with the cara had been repositioned, recording the man’s vantage point. With the focus on the right spot, the silhouette was fully visible—and with it, the face.
“That’s Richard,” Lan said, looking at the scene. “So what—” she began speaking, but then stopped as another person showed on the screen.
They could first see so movent behind the stalker, and finally the cara focused on another silhouette erging from the darkness behind the man. They all watched in tense silence as the new arrival got closer and closer behind Richard.
When he was close enough to almost touch the predator's back, he attacked. In one sudden movent, he wrapped his hands around the victim’s throat. Despite the clear weight difference, the chief's son looked like a child caught by an adult as he helplessly struggled against a clearly stronger opponent.
The fight lasted just under half a minute and reminded them of an animal caught in a snare by its throat, unable to do anything as it thrashed. Once the body went limp, the man simply bent down and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then disappeared into the darkness of the forest. The entire operation took barely a minute.
“Holy fuck,” Lan said, looking at the footage.
“You think that’s him?” Filip asked, eyes glued to the screen.
“You saw that forest—it’s dry as hell out there, yet he moved in without alerting the target. Enough experience to crush the blood vessels in the throat, not just the windpipe. Enough strength to hold down a larger opponent. No hesitation in his movent, the target picked and stalked beforehand—yeah, that’s him,” Filip said, analyzing the footage.
He then clicked the back button a few tis, bringing the silhouette back onto the screen.
“That mask is strange,” he said, looking at a mask that was reminiscent of branches crossing over the face.
“Creepy,” Lan said.
“Let’s get you to the spot,” Filip said, looking at Josh. “And I’ll have Elen start digging for that mask. It looks unusual and wraps around his whole head while still allowing him to fight. It could be custom-made. It might pop up with other unrelated cris.”
He then sighed deeply, sitting back on the sofa before speaking with a half-smile on his face. “I think we finally got a lead.”
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