Gone After the Wind

Chapter 41: Miscalculations

There's a buzz of activity that followed after the appalling discovery of the flower. To keep track of every movement around was in vain. Cara felt as though she was up in the clouds, floating and swaying as the whole team flipped the house over and over again, hoping they would find something new that might have been overlooked.

Everything was upheaved in chaos and urgency. Officers dashed around, CSI personnel filled every corner, and onlookers outside barked requests to see the cause behind the sudden shift in the air. Everybody was too busy to provide answers, though.

Cara could barely felt Faucalt and Moore's presence after they exited the room earlier. Upon seeing the new addition to evidence, Faucalt's initial reaction was to see the CSI head right away. Either to cast suspicion of their work or lash out at them for surrendering it too late. No matter, he looked sulky, not daring to meet their gazes as he backed away and disappeared into the hallway.

Cara would say he's embarrassed but considering his ego, it'll be a stretch to assume so. Moore, however, looked defeated and unsure. It took her seconds before following Faucalt without a word, head sinking to her chest.

If that was horrifying for them, no one would dare to imagine how deep Cara fell from sanity. It was as though some beast punched her in the gut, twisted her stomach and shoved up a fist inside her heart. She wasn’t sure which emotion should dominate her chest. Repulsion, fear, excitement, gratitude, and contempt; all battled furiously to be in control.

As a result, she looked like a ghost trailing behind a walking flesh--Eric, who can’t seem to know how to handle her silence and disappearance of her usual self. He tried to talk something out of her. While Cara understood every word falling out of his mouth, she can’t fully command her mind into submission.

In a blink, she went from standing in the room to getting led into the car.

“Are you okay?” Eric asked as he settled onto the driver’s seat.

Blinking away from reverie, she latched the seatbelt across her body. “Yeah… I think.”

Eric sighed and geared the car into life. “You need to take some time off. I’ll drop you off in your house--”

“No.” Cara shook her head. “I’m good. I just… I need time to think.”

“You’re in shock, Cara. It won’t do us any good if you come back to field distracted and half-conscious--”

“I said I’m fine,” she insisted, getting annoyed at the tone of his voice. Does he think I’m a child? “And I’m not distracted, okay? It’s… I need a f*****g minute to process it. Can we do that? Without you, nagging and treating me like a child?”

Eric stared at her for a moment, contemplating if that would be a good choice. Jaw locked, he nodded, grunting as he pushed the gear stick with unnecessary force. He swerved the car to the left and they drove off.

Guilt prickled her back as Eric went deep into silence. There’s so much thoughts running around her mind that self-control was impossible to attain. It wasn’t her intention to shut him up, turn down his concern. Her welfare is the least of her concern. How could she think of herself when Alex is out there, exposed, unguarded and clueless of the danger lurking by?

It didn’t matter the flower proved her right. It didn’t matter the note was addressed to her, the killer speaking to her directly. It didn’t matter they’re on the upperhand, that they have the most useful advantage ever date in the case and for the first time, there’s a crack in his so-perfect killings.

All of it proved to be weighless compared to the heavy, nerve-wrenching knowledge that he indeed knew where she lived. Despite originally believing it was him, the mysterious shadow from that night that attacked, she held doubts, nonetheless, he hasn’t yet determined personal information about her.

He may have confirmed it through the only commonground both of them shared, the peace of not fully accepting it had been dangerously addictive. She stayed skeptical, calm, and confident of their safety at the expense of denying the reality.

Now the price of doing so had stumped her, turning the shock and horror nine times greater, heavier than what it could have caused at the beginning.

“I don’t see the point,” she spoke aloud. “Why is he so eager to make contact? And how the hell did he know so much about me?”

From her peripheral vision, Eric peeked at her, almost looking startled that she broke the ice. Adding pressure to the gas, he shifted on his seat. “To taunt you, perhaps? Communicating with us is about publicity and control. He knew he’s gonna instill fear and panic if he managed to break your privacy. More so, if you’re aware of it.”

“I don’t understand. How the f**k did he know where I lived?” she asked, breathless. Her exhausted mind couldn’t provide any answers, in spite being worned out everyday for the best thing it can do--thinking critically. “I’ve never told anyone about it. Did you?”

Eric’s head snapped to her. “I’m the last person you should ask that.”

Cara ignored the hurt in his voice. “Who else knew about my address, apart from you?”

“Just me and the Chief. You made it very clearly that no one should bother you months ago and Chief took your word at heart. We put up false address and contact information to mislead anyone and hide it successfully.” Eric flinched. “You know how bad it got when you got suspended. Everyone was out to dig information about you and Chief was the only one who had the power to deflect them.”

“That doesn’t mean someone didn’t leak it.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of who’s behind it. The question is ‘how’ . What did he do to attain such information? Has he been following you since the murders begin? If he’s that dedicated, we have no way of knowing what he’s gonna do next.”

Cara dropped her fist on her thighs, enraged that the only faculty she gets comfort and security from has been disgustingly infiltrated. “It’s not enough that he took three lives. Now he’s prepared to ruin more.”

“Which gives us more reason to be vigilant. This is getting serious, Cara. You cannot just take this as mere stalking and a crazy idolization. His threats needs to be addressed and if we don't do something about it now, there's no guarantee you'll remain safe until this case ends."

Cara replied none, her heart completely taking Eric's side. Alex's safety is the priority over anything. She'd choose him anytime if the circumstances forces her to.

But something faint dangles in front of her mind, teasing her, and baiting her to go completely feral.

Eric noticed the sudden shift on her aura. His head flicked to her several times before he understood the ease and clarity of her expression.

"Oh, no, no, don't f*****g think about it. That's not gonna work. You, of all people, should be aware of how risky and dangerous it would be. Stop it now. While I'm still sane to not report you as mentally incompetent to Alman," Eric warned.

"It's a good opportunity," Cara debated, voice hoarse and cranky, brushing off the finality of his voice. "We have to consider it–"

"No, Cara. There’s nothing to consider. Whatever you say, it’s never gonna happen. Alman won't approve of it, anyway."

"You can't be sure. Judging how things are escalating, he's gonna examine every bit of solution we'd offer. We're in a tight situation, Eric. I don't see why it should not be brought up."

"It's f*****g dangerous, that's what. Do you hear yourself? You're asking me to assist you into baiting him. Him, who slashed and made fun of several women for his gratifications. Him, who’s been the prime suspect of your husband’s death not long ago. And him, who brought downfall on your career.” Eric scoffed. “It's not just an insane idea; you’re proposing your own suicide. Look, if you don't want to be in this world anymore, just say so. I have a gun that is barely used. Tell me when I should lend it to you.”

Cara couldn’t help but chuckle on his silliness. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? I didn’t know looking out for someone is such a ludicrous thing to do.”

“Cut it off, will you?” Cara warned, looking at him sharply. “I understand where you’re coming from and I’d be a hypocrite if I pretend I don’t feel the same way. I’m more than scared as you are, Eric. Just the thought of not getting out of it alive frightens me. I don’t wanna leave yet. But if this is the only chance I can make the world a little bit safer for Alex and for the women, then why should I not risk it?”

Eric fell into immediate silence, biting his bottom lip. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel and stared out in front. Cara studied his face, hoping she had reached his understanding. There wasn’t a single lie in her words. It was true that she was afraid. It was true that she wasn’t sure the plan would even work. It was true that she intend to risk her life in order to end the suffering once and for all.

What was left there to do than resort to the most extreme measures? She can’t just sit back and allow the perp to have his way again. Under all risky circumstances, they can never deny it’s a good—no, rather, the best opening that unknowingly drifted their way.

For months, they searched relentlessly for any breaks, any inconsistencies, and any opportunity that might offer them a glimpse of success. It took some painful scouring and leg-breaking door-to-door before they excavated new, significant clues. As promising as they might seemed, though, chasing them still didn’t bear useful results.

Apart from the perpetrator’s fascination with dolls, there hasn’t yet been any tangible leads that would immediately shepherd them straight into the his identity.

Until today. Until the CSI showed that flower and left them all speechless.

“It’s your life, that is. For f**k’s sake, quit treating yourself a hero. You’re not and you will never be. Your life is as precious as the victims and Alex’s safety. The case might get done once you do that but there will be no glory in it if you end up going down with him,” Eric replied. His voice was soft and understanding. “Don’t look at yourself like you have no value, Cara. You’re important. To Alex. To the department. To society. To me. How can you think of sacrificing yourself when you have a good life ahead of you?”

Cara swallowed hard, her throat suddenly got itchy and constricted. She looked outside the window when her traitorous eyes watered. She didn’t notice she was breathing heavily. Biting down her cheek, she fisted her trembling hands.

“Don’t do that to yourself. Please,” Eric added. “It’s been hard, I know. You’ve gone so much suffering in less than a year. No one would have been able to survive that. But you did. And you’re still fighting. You’ve come so far from. Why would you even think of giving up when you’re already halfway through?”

“I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Sit still, and trust us.” Eric reached for her hand on her lap. “That’s all you need to do. We’ll think of something. Your plan is promising, if it doesn’t include dressing you up as a bait. Alman will definitely know what we can make out of it.”

Before the tears rolled down on her moving jaw, she immediately looked to the window. The stubborn part of her wanted to refuse, to insist that it’s the easiest and fastest solution. Why should they bother spending time, resources, and manpower on creating a plan that can be done with a simple invitation to the perp?

Her mind kept digging on that idea, but Eric’s words never stopped making noise. It got louder and louder until the urge to continue resisting was drowned. One second, she was insulted by having to depend on them. The next thing she knew, she was relishing on the idea that she didn’t need to carry the burden of everything alone anymore.

There was an enigmatic relief on the idea that Eric harbored the same fear and the same sentiments regarding the outcome of the case. It was a selfish, calming feeling that for a moment, provided temporary stillness to her mind.

She thought she was a solo traveler on the raging land of regret, terror, and desperation. For months on end, she believed she was the only one who felt the immense pressure breaking her back. It never dawned that a stoic, apathetic man like Eric would confide in vulnerability.

She deemed everyone much stronger and tougher than she was. Having a personal attachment to the case, she assumed she got it harder than everybody else. It was hypocritical to look at the force, including Eric, and looked at them without compassion. Even think they never had taken anything seriously.

Hearing Eric’s input and witnessing the tiredness and anxiety covering his face, she felt seen and validated. Because for the first time in years, she wasn’t alone in the battlefield.

Silence ensued. Cara preferred to let the matter rest and let Eric’s advice to sink in, and calmed her raging mind and heart. Eric sensed her hunt for comfort, and through keeping his grip on her hand, he managed to help her jumped through the hoops of her bothered soul.

Time caught up on them quickly as they feared. They left Candy’s residence with the setting sun still hooked up on the sky. As they plunged deep into the respective townhouse where Candy’s lover and recent boyfriend lived, the light has already thinned out.

The sky switched into a dark blue hue, revealing blinking stars, and a half-moon peeking at the side. Cold, icy air whisked away the warm temperature they were only complaining about an hour ago. Enveloping the inside of the car like a dripping blanket and rendering the use of AC completely insubstantial.

Cara huddled up to the side, and rolled the windows up.

Christian Parker lived a considerable mile away from Candy’s house. The residence appeared gigantic and much more affluent. The houses doesn’t shy away from boasting the weath of its occupants.

Unlike Candy’s residence, the security in the village was taught and no-nonsense. It took almost half an hour before they were granted permission to visit a resident. What’s even surprising, the security guard alerted Christian about them, notifying him of the intent behind their visit, and how long should he make a room for them.

Although the practice didn’t surprise Cara, nothing stopped her from growing annoyed and irritated. If Christian carried important details that he didn’t want the police to know, he’s got time to hide the truth and come up with a lie.

His guilt will twist the truth in his favor. If he’s indeed had something to do with Candy’s murder or if he’s at fault of even heinous crimes.

As they drove nearer, Eric began to apprise her with tidbits of information about Christian. He’s the manager of an accounting firm where Candy currently worked. He’s thirty-nine year old, unmarried, and originally came from Rosegold.

He had no records. No DUIs. No misdemeanor or anything. He’s clean, as far as the documents tell. He looked like the straight up definition of a bachelor—flourishing and without any kids to worry about.

He knew that at heart as the moment Eric parked the car in front of his two-storey house, two Mustangs and a black bike huddled nicely in the driveway. Someone trimmed the lawn with perfection. The grass were thinned out and greener than his neighbor.

“You think he can tell us something?” Eric pondered as they both stared off into the house.

Cara adjusted the hem of her jacket, tucking them until it reached her elbows. She pulled the elastic on her wrist and tied her hair, leaving some to cover her hair and allowing the know to hang loosely. “We’ll see.”

Eric watched her with scrutiny. The recognition already clouding his eyes and ticking his mouth to speak. He hesitated but quickly got over it. “What are you doing?”

Cara smiled and scrunched up her uniform and trousers to appear she has been walking, running, and rolling over on the ground for hours. “If he’s the kind of man like what I assumed, looking fatigue and worn out will help us edge him. Once he sense our urgency, his brain will fizzle and the only thing he will do in return is mimick the mood and the energy we give. That’ll give us the advantage to take the mask off. If he’s wearing one.”

“Okay, I know what’s it’s for, and I understand the motive. But how is that necessary? We’re already looking short of two nights sleep, mind you.”

“Just get along.” Opening the first two buttons of her polo shorts as the final touches, she clicked the door open, and jumped out. Eric did the same and the door thudded as he followed her from behind.

“How do you want to do this? Are we gonna be direct or let him play the ball first?”

“I need to see him up close to pick what strategy to use. And for f**k’s sake, cut off the ominous tone. You looked tense and awkward. He’s not a suspect, he’s a civilian. Drop it before he hushed up.”

Eric clicked his tongue. “Not yet a suspect. Don’t blame me if I don’t trust Mr. Bachelor right away.”

Cara wished to press the matter even further. But as soon as they reached the porch, the front door clicked open, and the rounded face of a man peeked out.

“Are you the state detectives?” he grumbled, his low-pitched resonating the empty porch.

“We are. Mr. Christian Parker, is that right?” Cara took a step forward and showed her badge. “You don’t mind if we go inside?”

His cautious eyes roamed around, still holding the door for the small gap. Then his eyes rested on Cara for a second before he broke a faint smile. “Not really. Come on in.”

Glancing at Eric whose eyes were narrowed and skeptical, Cara accepted the invitation. And without waiting for Eric’s footsteps to trail her, she made her way in.