The Sinner's Den

Chapter 4 Elodie's POV

I opened the case, just like David said it landed in my inbox at 5pm sharp. I read my freelance contract first and frowned at the pay for this. It was triple what I get a month for the station. No doubt David’s doing. He was dangling the carrot in front of me. He was saying,“ Look what you could have."

I had also had an email from my Captain while I was out. He has asked me to transfer all work and note on the current case I was working on to Joshua. He was in the same job as me. But I hated to say it, he wasn’t as thorough as I was. He didn’t scale every detail like I would. I had helped solve more cases than he has, yet he had been in the job a year longer than I had. I hated this. I had been working on this case for over a month. It had consumed so much of my life already, and now I had to just pass it off because David had to stick his nose in my business.

The case I had been making for the station was a murder between two rival gangs. I was tasked to pull out all the connections that would make this case iron-clad. They were finally going after the leader of the west side gang. He had always eluded them. But I had linked evidence to prove he was there for this murder. He was most likely the one that committed the act. And I was now going to let Joshua take the glory.

But what could I do ? David made sure there was nothing I could do.

I open the case notes , evidence packs and sample reports.

I shouldn't be looking at this now. I was still rattled that my stalker was now upping his game. Has he just come across me at that bar ? Or did he know I was there and followed me there ?

I had made first contact, I was the one that invited him to make contact back. It was me who changed the rules. But now I wish I hadn’t. What if my stupidity gets me hurt? I mean he did say he would hurt me, and now he is saying he will see me soon.

Yet I still had yet to do anything.

The alcohol buzzing in my system is another reason I should leave this for tomorrow.

But I was also looking for a distraction from the predicament that had found me. I certainly didn’t go looking for it.

My eyes go back to the screen, coming back into focus after dazing out. I lick my dry lips and take a drink of my water. The alcohol was making my mouth feel like cotton from all the sugar. I see a picture of a bar. Well, I believe it to be a bar. It states on a sign, “ Sinners Den“ But the rest of the building didn't look anything fancy. It looked run down if anything.

The case is about a missing person, a man by the name of Trevor Vickers. He’s a local politician. The crime scene didn’t have a body , but at his home there was a mess and lots of it, like there had been a murder or a severe beating. His phone was discarded on the floor along with his wallet. The blood was smeared like he had been dragged out of the house. The only thing believed to be evidence that was left behind was a business card dropped into the blood like it was deliberate and the sign pictured on it was a skull with blood running from its eyes and a red rose clamped between its teeth. A crown of barbed wire sits on the skull's head. The same symbol that was above the door at sinners den. Just above the writing that looked like it dripped on the wall.

But so far besides this business card there were no other connections, no other evidence , no finger prints, nothing. The card could just be circumstantial , maybe placed there to lead the investigation astray. Of course I knew who this symbol belonged to. No cop or civilian in this town didn’t know who The Sinner’s were. They were known to be a motorcycle club. A gang of individuals that believed they were above the law. In all honesty most of the time they were. Around eighty percent of cold cases all have the The sinners down as the suspected culprits. But it could never be proved.

It would be easy for someone to lay this card down in the blood and most would then believe that they were involved. It was an easy way out. But The Sinners had also sued the cops and the FBI for harassment before. Always being dragged in for questioning on any crime with no real evidence they were involved. They claimed they were being profiled , and laughed in court when they said they were just motorbike enthusiasts and nothing more. Everyone knows its bulls*t. Everyone knows what they really are even the judges that had no choice but to rule in their favor. No evidence no crime and therefore it did look like harassment and profiling.

They’re run by a man they call ‘ c*****e’ real name is Daniel Walters. His father ran the club before him and his father before that. But he was more ruthless , more destructive; he was exactly what his nickname described him as. But he was also f*cking smart under his watch. Not one of his guys has ever f*cked up. Not one of them was ever convicted or sloppy enough to leave a trace under his rule. They had become untouchable.

I remember seeing his picture in the station, they were all up on the wall. They wanted every cop to know their names , memorize every detail about them. They were just waiting to pounce at their first mistake.

He is tall , dark brown hair shaved at the sides and left long and shaggy on top. Muscles and lean a prime killing machine. Chiseled jaw and he had a faint scar along his cheek bone. But what had always made me shiver when I had gone into the station and walked past his photo was his eyes framed with dark lashes. They were piercing blue, and I don't know whenever I looked at his picture, I always felt like his eyes read into my soul. Crazy, I know it was just a mug shot, but I imagine the person who took that photo was petrified because his stare was terrifying.

I had a fleeting thought once or twice that my stalker was one of them. But I had never seen him wear their signature jacket that they all wore with the bleeding skull on. They rode different bikes to my stalker too. The one my stalker rode was more sporty. I had looked into bikes and the one I think it most resembles is a Yamaha pedigree R series, but I was no expert on bikes, it could be something different. They rode round town on Harley's; it was what they were known for.

My head starts to buzz, and I find myself squinting at the screen. I sighed and turned the screen off. I was useless tonight , there was no way I was going to be able to concentrate. I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself if I wasn’t working. But I did find myself at the window looking out and looking up and down the street. Nothing. Picking up my phone I head to the bathroom and place it on the counter beside the sink and look at myself in the mirror. I looked tired.

My mousy brown hair was in a messy bun on the top of my head. My face had no make up on , I was pretty, I knew that. The reason why I knew it was because I looked just like her and she was beautiful. Diminishing my own looks would be me diminishing my mum's. And I couldn't do that. She was stunning. My skin was pale , almost porcelain. My dad always said I needed to see more daylight , but It was just who I was , my mum was the same. No amount of sun gave us a tan. My lips were red and plump , my eyes an emerald green. I had often been referred to as snow-white. You know the whole“ skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood."

I stepped back and began to strip off. My figure was slim with round perky breasts not overly large but big enough. My hips are slim and my stomach is toned. My thighs were a little thicker but it was due to muscle due to all the dancing and I had that to thank for my perk bum too. When I did drag myself from work, I still danced and stretched in my living room. I had a bar that ran along the back wall. I didn't dance anymore to an audience but it was still engrained in me.

Stepping away from the mirror I reach into the shower and turn it on steam fills the small room pretty quick and fogs up the mirror removing my reflection from my sight. As I go to step into the shower my phone lights up and buzzes on the counter. I frown when I look and see a blocked number.

I ignore it and step inside the shower. No doubt it is a scam caller. But as soon as it rings off it starts again. I look out of the glass of the shower stall and at my phone and frown. I watch it ring off and ring again , so now I'm curious. I open the door and step back out grabbing a towel to dry my hand and pick up the phone.

“ Hello “ I whisper into it , my stomach already for some reason jittery, my heart already picking up on something I wasn;t yet aware of with how it had sped up.

“ Elodie “ comes a dark growled whisper.

My heart stutters , my eyes widen and my hand begins to shake.

“ Who … who is this ? “ I ask shakily.

A small dark evil laugh comes down the phone to me: “ Oh, you know who it is , well you don’t know who I am actually, Do you Elodie ? But you will soon“ I gasp at his words. It’s him.

“ Elodie“ he says my name in a way that it sounds like it drips with sin.

I don’t answer. I can't. I am frozen. But my ragged breathing tells him I am still here.

“ I will only hurt you in a way that you crave Elodie. You don’t know it yet but you do, I see you “ he states before the phone clicks off and the line dies. He wasn’t referring to actually being able to see me. I was in a windowless room. No, what he meant was he sees me. And what the hell did he mean by that ? What does he see ?