Gone After the Wind

Chapter 12: Help

ERIC FELT THE MUSCLES of his back slowly stiffened as he fumbled with the files at hand, particularly with the crime scene photos that had become more definitive now than when he had peered onto it. His haywire mind continued accumulating the swerving thoughts he acquired while examining the images. Although it has been two hours since they left the crime scene, the uneasiness and eerie sensation that was brought by Cara's discovery still lingers on him like a potent thickening agent.

It wasn't the first time that Eric had experienced such an inexplicable sensation around Cara. For the years that he stayed under the roof of their partnership, he encountered all sorts of unusual circumstances that, if he scrutinized each one, it would appear that some weren't actually emanated from the complexities of the cases they had investigated. Most had been caused and manufactured by Cara and her abstract ways of approaching them.

Lying under her unsystematic strategies was a distinctive skill that only one percent in every hundred people has the chance to develop in their lives, either genetically or by rough practice. He wasn't acquainted well with its whole design and origin, but the things he had witnessed were enough to tell that somehow, it enables Cara to slip into the killer's mind as though she's a clairvoyant with natural psychic powers. Using her senses and impenetrable instincts, she could identify what kind of thoughts or feelings a criminal would have before, during, or after the crime they chose to commit.

But in order to fully activate it, there are a lot of factors that Cara must consider first. Firm concentration and abundant physical shreds of evidence aren't the only things that she must seek. The presence of the crime scene always topped the list; no matter what, her head must not be clouded with unrelated issues. Because if not, the results would defy reasons, and her mental being would be put at greater risk.

Although there has no known record that it had been classified as a reliable tool for investigations and other real-life situations, Eric still found himself unconsciously leaning onto it whenever a case went through some challenging phases, and they were left with nothing but desperation. And instead of restricting Cara from doing it, he always ends up supporting her.

Well, what could he do other than that? There's no way he could rebuff that it had caused them a lot of favors for the past years and their entire career. Had helped them solve almost half of the mind-wrecking cases across the state and has provided them the ladder of success. From mere state troopers monitoring burglar cases, they had risen to high-profile detectives and moved under the well-respected department of Albreska State PD.

But behind its beneficial impact, there's a threatening cost to Cara. The kind of world she had sought and explored revolves around all the darkest stuff that humankind could ever come up with it. He feared the possibility that if she continued dipping her toes on its slippery surface, it might swallow her whole and, worst, destroy her ethical principles.

That's why every time they investigate a case wherein such measures are the only left choices, he had always been torn between saving Cara from any emotional wreckage to wishing the cases meet its end.

One of those instances was today at the forest park. The moment Cara had begun verbalizing her insights, his mind had been fast to succumb with shock, resulting in numbness and disabled vocal cords. He was right to suspect Cara wouldn't handle it, especially since some characteristics on the scene were similar to Marco's murder. But he was absolutely wrong on the part that he anticipated she would lose it eventually. Never did once she show any sign of distress during the time duration they stayed there. Sure, she had spaced out several times, but it did not affect her way of thinking. And just minutes after standing there, she made a groundbreaking discovery without consulting her particular skills.

Eric wouldn't want to know or even speculate whether it was because of her transcended determination or some sort of excitement towards her job that she had been able to produce such a result. He dreaded what could be the truth behind the sudden change of her heart.

He knew the wounds of the disrupted woman he saw last night were not amendable. It would take so much time, he thought, to rebuild the confidence she had lost two months ago. Given that, isn't it a bit surreal to see the same woman show up in the station, looking resolved and hungry for retribution?

Something was going on. He was sure of it. Something occurred that pushed her to set aside all those traumas and pain. He only hoped that she was not mistaking this case over Marco's that haunted her even in her dreams. Otherwise, everything might go terribly wrong, and he couldn't afford to see her partner fall into pieces once more.

Filling his lungs with artificial air induced by two aircon in the conference room, he massaged his temple and leaned back against the chair. His eyes stung, his back throbbed with intense pain,, and his legs felt as though he had been standing for hours on a flat, solid rock surface. The hours he consumed sitting there, exhausting his mind on testing Cara's theories, had been rather excruciating. It was so much easier to accept it than make sense of why the killer had chosen marionettes as a reference to his sick work and why the hell did they had not figured that out within the weeks they spent investigating the first murder?

Stuck by the train of his thoughts, his shoulders jumped a bit when the glass door burst open. He looked up, unsure of what was going on or who would come in with such aggressiveness. His expression tensed when the squared face of Wilson Faucalt glowered at him like some tight businessman who just lost a multi-billion dollar deal, carrying almost nothing, only a small pad of paper and a thin pen. Appalled that he was the one to show up, Eric stood abruptly, his eyes going beyond the doorway. He blinked when Faucault shut it, cutting his line of vision.

He's alone, he thought, anxious.

"Chief Alman won't make it. He's en route to the Mayor's office, so I'll be the one to hear the main purpose of this out-of-the-blue meeting. I badly hope this is not a waste of time, Sautney," he said, walking swiftly across the room, ending his steps in front of the white projector screen. Wearing a tight blue collar polo and brown wool trousers, he leaned against the edge of the squared table, arms drew open and shoulders squared in the most annoying way. The way he exhibited the authority he has over him gave Eric the impression that this wouldn't be that easy.

Well, he's Faucault. When did he ever display cooperation and interest whenever we spoke to him?

"So, what did the almighty Cara Black discover that you plucked up the courage to ask for such an exclusive time? Hmm?"

Eric glanced back at the door, ridiculously wishing it would open once again and reveal Chief Alman, delayed with his meeting and ready to hear what he had to say. He then shook his head fervently. It seems he had no choice. Even though he could be viewed as frivolous after presenting this, he wouldn't let the chance slip away. The time is ticking fast, and very hard to catch up. If Cara bravely set aside her personal turmoils, he would make the same effort.

Brushing off the condescending comment, he gathered the photos he had put aside earlier and displayed them on the table, arranging them by the the number printed at the bottom. "As you may have probably known, we revisited the crime scene two hours ago hoping to find anything that we could have overlooked. At first, we were inclined to believe that we had already gathered all the evidence we could find. Until Cara noticed this," Eric explained, picking up the most recent capture among the series of photos he collected. Unlike the other five, it was the only one that was vibrant in colors and had no gruesome subject. "I know these marks might appear as not essential, Sir, but if you'd look at the scene closely and the way the body was displayed, you'd come up with only one connection."

"I don't speak gibberish, Sautney," Faucault retorted, not even attempting to look at the photo for more than two seconds. "Make it clear, and don't steer away from the topic."

"I'm only implying that we had examined everything at a wrong angle, Sir. Our perpetrator didn't kill out of compulsion and pleasure. In every murder, he had an inspiration, some sort of display that we had unfortunately discounted before."

Faucalt's slim eyebrows were knitted. "What kind of display?"

Swallowing hard, he looked Faucalt straight into the eyes. "Marionettes, Sir. He was creating them to pose as marionettes."

His somber voice echoed louder than what he intended as the chilly silence embraced them like an old friend. The room suddenly felt cold. His spine tingled.

Faucault's eyes narrowed into slits. He shook his head, scoffing as though Eric told some awful joke. "Marionettes? Are you kidding me, Sautney? You requested a meeting because of this?"

"Let me explain it—"

"Well, you better do," Faucault cut him off. "Because I can't wrap my head around that idea. It's too shallow and illogical. Imagine if Chief Alman was the one who participated in this meeting and heard you. You'd definitely waste his time and make yourself a laughingstock."

Why can't he ever tone down his narcissistic voice for one time and listen to someone without being an arsehole?

"And it's impossible to discard it either way," Eric emphasized, the range of his voice going high as the frustration of being ridiculed prickled his head. He pointed his finger at one photo where Sandy Hupman's body was shown at complete angles. "We can't just deny that they have no resemblance. It's all in here, Sir, we just have to open our eyes and look carefully. That's exactly what Cara did. The pose, the artificial hair, eyes, and these marks created by the ropes all didn't appear as mere physical evidence to her. She examined them in a sense that her thoughts had become limitless. If you really want this case to reach its conclusion, then isn't it just right to explore all the ranges of possibilities?"

"Are you suggesting that I should follow the word of an almost convicted woman who got diagnosed with extreme PTSD just recently? To an unstable officer who almost imprisoned someone because of her incompetence?" Faucault retorted, completely silencing Eric. Sighing heavily, he touched Eric's left shoulder and gripped it slightly. "Look, I understand where this is all coming from. You're enthusiastic and very high-spirited at everything that involves Black. And it's blinding your judgment, Eric. I get that her coming back was the most anticipated event in your life. But we're dealing with a serious case here. Innocent lives of two women had been taken, and who knows when there'll be a third victim. We have no time fooling around because there are so many factors at stake. So, no. I deny to acknowledge this idea," he continued, feigning disappointment and sympathy. Eric knew well what was behind that grimace.

There was a menace in his voice that didn't escape Eric's ears. He opened his mouth to say something in return, but the waves of rage crashed onto him violently. If only Faucault was genuinely concerned about the possible consequences of Cara's insights, Eric would gladly accept the refusal. But his actions showed no sincerity at all. He didn't even try to be convincing nor present facts-based argument that didn't involve faulty criticism towards the author of the idea.

He rejected it not because it was theoretically unfit for the case but because Cara was the one who discovered it. Had it been someone else, he'd definitely reconsider. What a freaking clown.

Using Eric's silence as an opportunity to end the conversation, Faucalt removed his hand from Eric and backed away from the table. "Better present something not stupid next time, Sautney. You completely wasted your time and mine."

"Well, it's better to follow such ludicrous lead than sit around and pretend we have everything under control, isn't it?" Eric insisted. Faucault stopped in his tracks and looked at him with knitted eyebrows. "You know we don't have anything solid at this point. There are no leads, no suspect that we could chase. We could exhaust ourselves going house-to-house all day and painfully interview each witness we could gather, but the chances of finding a connection would not appear to us because we're doing it wrong. But with this." He raised the photo of Sandy Hupman. "We could cover a lot, and the scope of our investigation would grow wider than we have now. Does that not look promising to you?"

Faucault held his gaze for a moment. The stillness in his eyes foretold how he was weighing his options. Eric wanted to save his chance, so he immediately spilled out the phrase that could overly change his supervisor's mind.

"If you still doubt this won't work, then we should probably consult the FBI and ask for their help," Eric said. Only then did Faucalt show his true emotions. From deliberately masking an unmoved expression, his face adopted the rightful emotion of a conceited man. Contemptuous and sourly disgusted.

Cara's hunch turned out as dead-on. She was right to insert the FBI if the ending of the meeting wouldn't go their way. She warned him before. That to be able to break Faucault's imaginative, tough mask, one must attack the weak spot of his heightened pride. Involving any person or agency that has more control, and more authority above him would, no doubt, cause its collapse.

"I'd accept the rejection, but you must consider our request and bring the FBI in," Eric bargained that made Faucalt extra furious. "Let them take the lead. That way, all your expectations would be met, and we'd have extra manpower. We'd get insights from the capable and expert individuals in this field, just like what you wanted."

Faucalt could only stare at him, stone eyes and teeth gritting. His last sentence may seem sarcastic, but Eric meant it well. Cara's brilliance isn't enough to catch the killer. At any angle, they badly need someone's help and enriched resources that could speed up the investigation. And the FBI could only provide that. So even though it might piss off the hell out of their supervisor and their request might attract unpleasant feedback, Eric won't back down. For the case, the victims, and for Cara, as well.