In Cold Blood

Chapter 1: The Case Of Leah

At exactly 5:03 am. FBI Special Agent Jane Peters rushed out of her apartment to the address her Chief order her to investigate. Her pulse hammering with the urgency she had felt for the past four months. There had been another murder.

For ages cases like this has never been heard in Long Beach. A small town in Sacramento with population less than two thousand, located at the end of the Country. It remained a peaceful town—safe even.The kind of place where people left their doors unlocked, kids biked to school, and neighbors held summer barbecues. People came here to live simple, quiet lives.

That was before the killings began. First came Lara John. Just 27. Bright future. Strangled. Eyes gouged out. Black cloth shoved in her mouth. And a note left in her bra. Then Elise Carter. Then Priya Daniels. And now… a fourth. All are based in the town. Which had caused a lot of commotion. And though rumors spread, no solid leads had emerged.

Jane fished her keys out of her bag and maneuvered to the address Chief Frank Longmont have given her. It was now 5:15, yet she had to drive a approximately 2 kilometer distance after a deep sleep of only four hours.

She parked in front of Barkers street. Yellow tape marked a forty yard perimeter, and within it several uniformed officers where at work. Gathering pieces of evidence with labeled tags, stacked in neat piles on a flatbed truck to be transported downtown.

The crowd had grown to well. At least one hundred onlookers had gathered behind the police line, bewilderment fixed on their faces. The news crews were set up; sending live feed across the country. Both Fox News and CNN were undoubtedly running alerts.

Her partner, Agent Malik Perez, approached her quickly. "The body has already been taped by the police. No ID. A woman walking her dog found her this morning. I tried talking to her, but… she’s too shaken up. Couldn’t get anything useful. I think what she saw really messed her up. We did find a cellphone near the body. Still nothing. Just a photo of the victim. I’ve sent it to forensics to check for fingerprints. We tried to stop people, just in case the suspect lingered, but nothing suspicious so far." He handed her a pair of latex gloves and led the way.

"Anything else?” She asked, her voice hoarse.

“Yeah. A liquor store camera caught something. A figure. Dressed in all black. Hat pulled down. Couldn’t see the face. Time stamp says 3:17 a.m” Malik answered.

Jane’s jaw clenched. That meant he’d been here just hours ago. Malik gestured toward the scene.

The scene stood before her like an abstract painting come to life. The smell of metallic blood, something rotting hit her. The victim, a woman, was crumpled against a brick wall, covered by garbage. Limbs bent unnaturally. Half-dressed. Blood soaked the pavement around her. Her skin pale like snow, lips tinted blue from the cold. Eyes frozen open, staring into nothing. Same brutal signature.

Jane snapped on her gloves and scrutinized the body. Judging by the discoloration, she guessed the woman had been dead for a few hours.The person behind this is definitely a demented lunatic. The victim was killed cervix up to her throat. An Atrocious crime. she’d been strangled. The cut between the victim’s legs made her stomach churn. A calculated mutilation.

The murder weapon was missing, but from the precision of the cuts, Jane guessed it was something small and concealable. A sharp object. Most likely a pocket knife, the kind a man could carry in his boot or coat without anyone noticing.

“Where’s the witness?” Jane asked, still wanting to try her best luck. Malik motioned her to the back of the police van. There a woman sat shaking from her head to her feet. Her eyes were blank.

Jane slowly approach the woman. She managed to calm her voice. Flipping out her badge.

“Hi ma'am, I’m Agent Jane. FBI. I just need to ask you a few questions, alright? Don’t worry—just talk to me. Did you see anyone ?”

A pair of brown eyes looked up at her. She hesitated. She was really shaken, but nevertheless managed to speak.

“I—I did… I heard footsteps. M-man. Long black coat… and a black hat. Knife tattoo on the hand. Song," the woman said. After she said this, a tune suddenly played out of nowhere.

*Hush now, little baby, don’t you make a sound. The monster's creeping closer, crawling on the ground. If your heart is pounding and if you try to flee. The monster’s gonna find you—just like it found me. If you scream or struggle, try to turn and run, Mama’s little lullaby will never be done.*

The woman flinched. "That's... that's the song."

Then, a deep chuckle of a man followed. It sent shivers through Jane. she looked back at the woman, she didn’t say a word. She was too shaken to speak. She figured the song had scared her and didn’t push further. She gently handed her a contact card. “If you remember anything else, please call me.”

Soon after, paramedics arrived and took the body away to the morgue.

**********************************************

Jane woke up alarmingly at 2:30 pm feeling the way she always since the day Chief Longmont gave her the case to investigate. She had barely rested, and yet she was haunted by bad dreams. It seemed real but she remembered there was no way the victim could survive from death knowing she also have checked the pulse. Dead.

She'd been rolling from side to side on her bed almost throughout the afternoon the thought of nailing the mysterious case was what filled her mind.

A knife tattoo. she could understand the witness fear of such a traumatic location. The killer had a knife tattoo on his hand–not exactly something you see in the vicinity. Twenty-three agents and police men were quietly working the search.

She stumbled out of bed, had a quick Shower, put on her short gear, locked her apartment and went to the gym to clear her mind.

As usual she got to the gym and went to the treadmill, as she exercised the sweat just added to the bad feeling she was having. Thinking of that she tried to contact her cousin, Jennifer, to at least tell her what happened. But to her dismay the call routed to voicemail.

“Hi... it’s me, Jennifer. Can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a message after the beep.” Beep.

“Hey. I was just hoping to talk. It’s been a while. Call me, okay?”.

A few minutes later, her phone rang. It was a number she didn’t recognize. At first, she didn’t want to answer, but then she thought it might be something important—maybe from work or a family member. So, she picked up the phone and held it to her ear. For a moment, there was only silence. She said hello to the caller.

"Good afternoon ma'am, This is Mrs Ijeoma John, your sister's course adviser. I just thought to let you know that she didn't attend her classes again today. I also want to ask if she's in your house right now," Mrs John notified.

"Good afternoon ma'am. No, she isn't at my place. I actually tried to contact her but it went straight to voicemail. Which is odd. Don't worry I will call my Auntie to see if she is there," Jane answered and hung up the call.

She punched digits and dialled her Aunts line. After a ring, Mrs Samantha answered.

"Hello, baby. How are you?” her aunt asked in her soft voice. Mrs Sam is the only family Jane had got since her parents passed away. From the sounds in the background, Jane could tell she was watching a soap opera. She was a big fan—never missed an episode.

"I'm okay, Auntie. Thanks for asking. I was just wondering if Jennifer is at home. I tried calling her, but the call didn’t go through," Jane said, trying to stay calm.

"No, sweetheart, she hasn’t come by," her aunt said. "Maybe she’s at a friend’s place? You know how she is—she keeps things to herself sometimes and might just need a little break." Her aunt tried to comfort her.

Jane let out a sigh. Still didn’t feel completely assured. “Okay. I’ll wait until the end of today. If she still doesn’t answer my calls by then, I’ll report it. I have to hang up now. I love you. Bye,” Jane said.

"I love you too baby, bye." Her aunt replied and hang up.

Jane set her phone down, and sat on the floor in the gym. It wasn’t long before another number called her. 'What’s with all these calls?' she thought to herself. She checked the caller's ID. it was Malik.

She snatched it up. “Talk to me.”

"Hi. We found out who the victim is. Her name is Leah Henderson. She's 23 years old and studied journalism at Sacramento Community College. She moved to this town two years ago but went missing six days ago. Here's the interesting part—her professor said she was working on a secret investigation, but she never told anyone what it was about," Malik notified.

Jane sat up straighter. "She was investigating something?"

"Seems like," her partner replied.

"And the phone?" Jane asked.

"The only prints we have found so far belongs to the victim. Guy's like that isn't stupid enough not to wear gloves, but you never know. Even the smartest makes mistakes eventually."

Jane took a deep breath and put her hand to her face. "I hope he made one. This whole thing is crazy. What about her parents?" Jane asked.

"Alive. But divorced. Her mom lives two towns away from Long Beach. What do you suggest we do? Should we go talk to her in person?" Malik asked.

"We should if we want information. Do you have the address?" Jane asked.

"I do. Just sent it to your email." her partner replied.

"I am coming down. I will be there in an hour," she said in a solemn manner and hung up the call. She freshen up, signed out of the gym and drove straight to the victim’s house.