01 Serial Killer (FBI Paranormal Casefiles)
Serial Killer
by
Sabine A. Reed
Cover Design by Melody Simmons
Amazon Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Serial Killer
Copyright © 2017 by Sabine A. Reed
Amazon Edition – License Notes
All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Serial Killer
Murders are a bitch to solve.
But Cleo Mathews loves her job with the Paranormal Defense Intelligence (PDI) unit of FBI. When a serial killer decides to prey upon mages and werewolves, she knows trouble has hit her precious town. Aaron Fine, the supremely rich and insanely arrogant mage, inventor of strange and quirky gadgets, successful businessman, and a confirmed breaker of hearts is an obstacle in her path.
Either he needs to move out of her way or get trampled; she knows no other way to remove distractions.
Sparks fly, and he wrangles a date. An attack by assassins, clues that lead the murder trail right back to Aaron, and a visit by the dreaded White Council’s representative puts a cramp in her style. Aaron Fine is impossible to ignore but Cleo isn’t sure if she wants the complication in her life – and in her heart.
Table of Content
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
Chapter One
It was a gorgeous, sunny day but the corpse was a real mood killer.
Birds chirped in the trees, the grass was green and a bit wet from rain last night, and the oak trees were tall and wide. A squirrel ran down the trunk, glanced at me, and trundled back up at top speed. It was one of those days when the air was fresh and chilly, the light was bright, and one could have a picnic right under the shade of a tree. Spring was right around the corner, but the promise of it didn’t fill me with ease.
I had work to do.
A death demanded closure for the loved ones, but for this person, who met her untimely demise surrounded by all of nature’s glory, it demanded justice.
My gaze took in the sight of the young woman who sat cross-legged as if contemplating deep secrets of life. If it weren’t for the dark, wooden cross that held her upright, we would have assumed she was merely sleeping. She was dead. Her blonde hair swung forward to cover her face that tilted down. A sunny, plain yellow dress covered her from her neck down to her legs. Her hands were in her lap. For a moment, I simply stood and observed the scene.
Death was always unpleasant, and the younger the person the more shocking it was. The man next to me held up a black, square device that blinked and showed numbers. “There is a strong presence of magic,” he murmured in a voice laced with anxiety. “We might be in danger of an attack. I read someone who can pack a good punch.”
I didn’t bother to sigh. “You’re reading me.”
Imbecile.
Yes, he was in real danger from me. I wanted to kick him on the butt and tell him to go back to the academy, but then it would be a waste of time. The FBI academy didn’t teach people anything about the Paranormal Defense Intelligence unit, or PDI for short. It was only when the special agents were recruited into PDI did they learn whatever there was to learn about magic – and since that education was on the job, it took them years to fully understand all that encompassed a magical investigation.
Training the newcomers was hell for us, but we needed them for tactical support. But the young kids who got in sometimes got a shock that lasted for a while. Magic packed a punch, and if it was used by someone on the wrong side of the law, it could get nasty.
It was a good thing that FBI had us, an elite team of mages, trained to find other elite mages who were hell bent on creating mischiefs. My first job was to determine if this was the work of mage. If yes, my second and primary job was to catch him or her and hand over to the FBI. My team and I got paid a good amount of money to do, but more than that, it was about ensuring that humans and mages lived in peace in a world that we shared.
“Sorry. I’ll just move closer to the corpse to take the magic reading,” he said.
“Don’t bother.” I waved a hand. “She is a mage, alright.”
He frowned. Kind of cute he was, with his flaming red hair that was cut short, probably so that he could look older. Not that the trick did anything. The light gray eyes showed an innocence that told me he still believed in the goodness of people and the rightness of what he did. “How can you tell?”
I snorted. Really, did he think I wouldn’t recognize one of ours? “It’s like a beacon. We can read it. Her magical energy is low, but it’s still humming around her. It will completely disappear in a day or two. But until then, it can tell us a lot.” I bent low so that I could study the victim. Taking my recorder, I switched it on to preserve my initial findings. “Young female. Caucasian. It seems she sat down herself. No signs of struggle on the surrounding grass or elsewhere in the clearing.”
“Why would someone sit down so that she could be tied to a cross?”
Grr.
That was the whole purpose of the investigation, wasn’t it? We had to figure it out. I wasn’t employed to give him lesson 101 in basic FBI paranormal procedure. Sometimes it was hard to believe that I was working with the FBI. Me? I was the original, rebel child, but then even rebels had causes, and mine led me to the FBI.
I was using them to figure out who killed my family, and they were using me for my talent in magic.
It was an even trade.
More or less.
“I’ve no theories regarding that,” I admitted in response to his question.
Taking out the latex gloves, I pulled them on. Gently, I brushed aside her hair so that I could lift her face and examine her features. She looked peaceful, almost as if she was sleeping. The serene look on her face scared me more than the cross that depicted a sacrifice.
Someone thwarted her will to live.
Someone decided to end her life.
That someone would have to pay.
Lifting her hands, I examined them. No scratches. No broken nails. Nothing to indicate that she fought off the person who brought her here. After checking her legs and arms, I moved towards the back. The more clues I discovered now, the greater the chance that I would be able to find the murderer sooner. But so far, there was zilch, nada.
Damn it.
There were days when I hated my job, not because I didn’t like the work, but just because seeing evil up so close and personal made me wish I had chosen to be a teacher, or a banker, or even a gardener. But of course, I didn’t have the patience to battle with weeds each day. If I didn’t do this, Augusta, the leader of the commune where I lived, would put me to work taking out weeds from the garden, and I certainly didn’t want to do that.
Anything to avoid gardening.
I would find this killer, and when I did, it would be his or her last day of freedom.
“Looks like he tied her to keep her from falling down.”
“She was already dead when he tied her,” I answered as I brushed back the tendrils of her hair from her neck.
“How do you know that?”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.” I rubbed my finger over the twin marks on the side of her neck. Interesting. “If he tied her when she was alive, he would have put the rope around her middle. She would have been closer to the cross, but he brought the ropes under her armpit and tied her to the cross so that she wouldn’t fall. It was definitely done after death.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“To set a stage, to tell us something?”
“Tell us what?”
Why was I assigned all the new agents? It wasn’t fair. Perhaps it was time to complain to Jones that I required someone a bit more experienced. Some of these kids were really too green.
“That’s what we have to figure out.”
“But…”
“Shush.” I traced my finger over the twin marks once more. The wound was small, tiny even. It was clean, and the edges of it were straight. “Something doesn’t feel right.” I stood. “We need to untie her.”
“Jones is coming. He wants to examine it himself.”
Grumbling under my breath, I stood. “In that case, why did you call me?”
“He wanted you to confirm if this was done by magic. There is still some magical activity in this place,” Agent Greenhorn declared as he stepped away from the corpse. Ok, so that wasn’t his actual name. What was it? Gordon? Gray? Gary? Oh yes, Grover.
What a name.
“That’s still me.” I sighed. Clearly he wasn’t trained on how to use the thing he held in his hand. “As far as I can tell, there is no residual magic in this place. Whoever did this didn’t use magic.”
Jones walked into the clearing. “What is the cause of death then?”
He was a man who didn’t like to waste time, but rather than answer him, my attention strayed to the man who walked behind him. My nostrils flared at the sight of him. Special Agent Bryan was probably the same age as Agent Greenhorn, and maybe he was just as innocent. But he was also the man I was attracted to not too long ago.
Attraction?
Lust?
No way.
It was just a mild crush.
Whatever it was, I was definitely over him. But it was still too early to start working together. At least I had hoped so.
Jones cleared his throat. “Cleo? Any theories?”
My mind was in an overdrive. What was Bryan doing here? Was he assigned to this case? If so, it wouldn’t work out so well. Our relationship frizzled out before it had a chance to get off the ground because he got pissed off with me after I bound him with magic while we were fighting evil minions. It was for his protection, but the idiot man refused to see it like that.
“I found twin marks on her neck. It looks like a vampire bite,” I said.
Jones frowned. His eyes clouded. “A rogue vampire is not a good sign.”
Bryan moved closer to the corpse. It was almost as if I didn’t exist. Ignoring me with an ease that irritated me, he looked at the dead woman.
“A rogue would have taken out more than one victim,” I said in response to Jones’s comment. “She has been dead for at least a day. If it were a newborn on a rampage, you would have heard about it by now. The FBI would have been scrambling to cover his or her tracks so that the public could live with the illusion that they don’t exist.” The spicy scent of Bryan’s cologne hit my nostrils. Enough of this childish game. “Hi, Agent Bryan. Nice to meet you again.”
“Same here.” He looked distant as he gazed at me. “So this is the work of a vampire?”
“Looks like it. But somehow…it feels wrong.”
Jones crossed his arms. He didn’t like ambiguity. “What do you mean?”
“A vampire would have sucked all the blood out. If he was determined or crazed enough to breach the treaty with humans, why would he have done it for a few pints of blood? She is not dry. So why did he stop? And why the elaborate setup? And how did he get her to sit meekly while he sucked her?”
“Maybe he told her that he was going to convert her?” said Agent Bryan.
Ok. So he wasn’t so naïve anymore. His last case with me was the first one ever for him. It was merely a couple of months since we parted, but it appeared he used the time to hone up on knowledge about magic and magical creatures. “Possible. He might have told her that he could turn her into an undead. Some people love the idea of immortality. But then how did she die?”
Jones blinked. “She was bitten. Didn’t you just say so?”
“A normal vampire bite wouldn’t kill someone, not unless a significant portion of their blood was drained. Hers wasn’t.” I ran a hand over my jaw and turned to study the corpse. “I’ve not been able to find anything, but I think she might’ve been drugged, before or after the bite.”
“The autopsy would uncover any drugs in her system.”
“We would have to wait for the results.” With luck, we might get answers within a week, but the killer would be free until then. Not good news. I didn’t like my cases to take so long, but there was not much to do. This required teamwork, and I would have to wait for their verdict. “In the meantime, we could look into her background and see if she was known to associate with vampires.”
Anything to get out of gardening duties back at the commune. Augusta, the self-styled Hitler who was in charge of administration, didn’t like anyone to sit idle. If I didn’t have a case, I was fair game for any and all mindless, boring chores that would suck the life out of me.
No pun intended. I sent an apologetic glance at the victim. She deserved to live, and no one had the right to decide that her life was at an end. I would find justice for her.
“Fine. You and Agent Bryan work on this. Keep me posted on all developments.”
Wait. Back up there.
“Sir, I…would prefer to work alone.”
Jones pinned me with his stare. His eyebrows joined to form a frown. “No one works alone.”
He wouldn’t budge. Damn. “How about I work with Agent Greenhorn…I mean, Agent Grover.”
“Special Agent Grover is new, and he needs to be given a crash course in all matters pertaining to magic. He is going back to the office where he would learn all that he needs to. Perhaps you can work with him on some future case. For now, you and Special Agent Bryan are paired together. As I recall, you gave excellent results in the last case, and I hope to see something similar.” Jones’s lips stretched in a smile. “Is there a problem with this?”
I gulped. Well, we were stuck. A quick glance told me that Agent Bryan didn’t seem to care either way.
Whatever.
If he could deal with it, so could I.
“No, sir. It’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll see you soon.” He turned and then looked back at me. “Follow the rules, Cleo. This time I don’t want to make an exception to forgive you for transgressions you can easily avoid.”
I nodded. Hell. It would take him months to forget that Special Agent Bryan and I blasted all rulebooks to hell the last time we worked together. He risked his job for me. And his life. But this time nothing like that would happen. Special Agent Bryan and I didn’t share the same camaraderie. We weren’t friends anymore, and there was no chance in hell that he would risk anything for me anymore.
No chance at all.
Chapter Two
The case was a bitch.
Not much data, zero evidence, and no witnesses.
Zilch wasn’t what I liked to begin my day with.
Jeremy hunched over the laptop. His dark hair were cut short, almost military smile, and there was a hard edge to his jaw line. A couple of years older than me, he was good-looking, smart as a whip, and genera
lly more amiable than me. We’d kind of grown up together in the farmhouse so it was nice to work with people I trusted.
“There must be something in her background that would lead to her killer,” I said.
“He could have been a stranger,” said Agent Bryan.
I shrugged, not looking at him. My mind worked as I replayed the scene at the clearing. Did I miss something vital? We had worked through the night and found nothing to show for our trouble. It wasn’t a good sign. The older the case got, the less chance we had of catching the bastard.
Something on my face must have shown because Jeremy paused. “We’ll find the killer, Cleo. He or she won’t get away.”
“She deserved justice,” I said, walking over the window that overlooked the large, well-manicured gardens at the farmhouse. We lived in a commune, a farmhouse that was both home and a workplace. I barely remembered the house I grew up in. Some people might call us a coven, but we weren’t. We were a bunch of people who lived and worked together and called each other family. “No one deserves to die like this.”
“We have a hundred percent success rate,” said Jeremy. “You’ve never lost a case.”
“That’s because I’ve the best team.” I smiled. “You guys always find what I need.”
Jeremy grinned. He was part of my team whenever we worked with FBI. The other member was Mark who was away on leave for a couple of days. They had both joined the commune when they were in their late teens, and while they were passionate about what they did, they didn’t have the emotional entanglement I felt whenever the case got too personal. This one threatened to engulf me if I didn’t solve it quickly.
Murder was unacceptable.
A long time ago, my life was destroyed when someone murdered my parents and siblings and left me as an orphan who was forced to come to the commune. I was a mess, and Augusta saved me. Now it was my turn to serve the girl who deserved a life that someone took away from her. Emotions swirled through me. I gasped, trying to fight the memories that were never more than a hair breath away from escaping the lockbox I kept them in.