Two Of Hearts

3.1 - The Killer

No one's POV

"I didn't expect you to visit me." An old man sat at a desk, facing a beautiful woman dressed elegantly but with a detective's ID clipped to her lapel.

The tension between them was palpable, heightened by the thick glass partition with a hole in the middle, allowing their voices to carry through despite being in separate rooms.

"Do you think your relatives will visit you?" Skyler remarked sarcastically, her voice cold and devoid of any warmth or emotion as she stared at the inmate in front of her.

The man smiled, a twisted expression of amusement spreading across his face, seemingly pleased by what he heard.

"You are my child, my second one even," said the old man, his tone dripping with a perverse sense of pride.

At his words, Skyler almost drew her gun, her hand instinctively reaching for it, but she restrained herself, forcing her emotions back under control.

"I'm not your child and will never be your child, Red Bull," she replied, her voice shaking slightly with suppressed rage.

Red Bull laughed hysterically, his heart racing with joy at being called that again, a name that seemed to feed his delusions.

"How I missed being called like that," he said, his grin widening.

Skyler was irritated by the smile painted on the old man's face, but she managed to maintain her composure, though it was a struggle.

"I'm not here to be your entertainment. I'm here to tell you again that I'm nothing like you," Skyler declared firmly, her eyes narrowing as she leaned forward, her face inches from the glass.

"I don't care. I still have children that I know are like me. We both know they grew up to be like me," the old man replied mockingly, his words calculated to provoke her.

His smirk deepened as he watched her jaw clench in anger.

"And I will search the whole world just to find them," Skyler whispered fiercely, her voice low and dangerous.

Her glare was intense, filled with a promise of retribution, but the old man continued to grin, unfazed by her threat.

Her eyes showed no emotion, only darkness, a reflection of the grim resolve that had taken root in her soul.

She knew the man before her was beyond redemption, a monster masquerading as a father, and she was determined to ensure his influence would never corrupt anyone else.

"Wala ka ng kapangyarihan, isa ka na lang dagang na-trap sa isang kahon. Once you die, I'll laugh at your funeral, b***h!" Skyler showed the man her middle finger.

"Try me..."

---

Seyren's POV

"Oh my god--" tumalikod ako at tuluyan ng sumuka sa tabi ng isang puno.

I just saw the corpse of a middle-aged man.

Nasa bukid ako where a crime took place unnoticed by anyone.

The quiet and isolation of this place make the scene even more eerie.

Detective Guerrero and I found the corpse kneeling as if praying, a rosary was tied in his clasp hand while he faced the void, an unsettling image that will likely stay with me for a long time.

Since this is a field, there aren't many houses around.

However, there is one house or more like a garage filled only with luxury cars, standing out starkly against the otherwise rustic backdrop.

The body remained kneeling due to metal supports that kept it from falling over, a macabre setup that suggested a level of premeditation and cruelty.

"You know, Seyren, just go search in the garage for any possible clues" said Detective Guerrero, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

I composed myself and refused to do what he asked.

"I'm fine here, kaya ko 'to." I stood up straight, feeling a mix of defiance and determination.

As I looked for my handkerchief, which, of course, was missing when I needed it, I realized how much this scene was affecting me.

"Oh, heto, use this. I have water in the car, rinse your mouth. I also have mouthwash, so use that too," Guerrero said, handing me a handkerchief.

Hindi na ako nakipagtalo. I thanked him, grateful for the small act of kindness amidst the grim surroundings.

I excused myself and went to his car to get the water and mouthwash he mentioned.

As I rinsed my mouth, my eyes wandered around the area, trying to take in every detail, every potential clue.

The land was vast, but there was no one around.

There was one house at the edge of this hectare of land, but it was small.

A couple lived there with their eight children; I had seen them earlier when we were on our way here, and they had looked as ordinary as any family could be, making the discovery of the body even more jarring.

When I returned to the crime scene, the body still hadn't been retrieved.

The ambulance hadn't arrived yet because we were far from the city, adding to the sense of isolation and urgency.

I grimaced when I saw the victim again, the grotesque sight challenging my professional composure.

Detective Guerrero noticed my discomfort and stood in front of me, blocking my view.

"Don't push yourself too much, Detective Valencia. Just take a stroll nalang ang look for evidence. Baka mamaya hindi kana naman makakain ng hapunan dahil diro." he said, his tone unexpectedly gentle.

I decided not to argue further.

I gave him a wide smile and started to walk away, but when I saw the corpse again, I covered my eyes and ran.

When I felt I was far enough away, I started walking again with my eyes open.

I headed straight for the house-like garage.

My eyes roved around like a cautious lion, examining the surroundings.

I felt a heavy weight on my chest, an inexplicable pressure as if something was weighing me down.

As I walked, I calculated everything-the size of the field, its distance from the city, where the victim was found, and why only this garage stood here.

I stopped walking when I saw what looked like footprints.

There were only a few prints, but they seemed to be of the same size, so I squatted down and tried to measure them.

Kinuhanan ko na rin ito ng litrato.

I compared them to my shoe size, which is 24.5 cm.

The footprint was slightly larger, so I measured it using the lines on my fingers as if I were measuring water for cooking rice.

27.6 cm.

Tangina, ang laking paa naman nito.

As I entered the garage that resembled a house, I was greeted once again by an impressive display of various kinds of luxury cars, each one more opulent than the last.

The gleaming surfaces and immaculate condition of these vehicles suggested wealth and meticulous care, but the atmosphere felt hollow and eerie.

I carefully examined the entire room, my eyes scanning every corner and crevice for anything suspicious, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

The garage was as pristine as a showroom, and it was hard to imagine that anything violent or gruesome had taken place here.

However, if I thought about it carefully, the victim couldn't have been killed outside.

There was no blood where we found him, and the scene was too clean for such a violent act to have occurred there unnoticed.

It also couldn't have happened in this room because, despite the clean surroundings, there were no signs of a struggle or violence.

What was it about that man that got him killed? It couldn't have been a robbery since the room was filled with cars, and there didn't seem to be any space indicating something was missing.

The entire scenario felt off, as if there was something I was missing, some crucial piece of the puzzle that hadn't yet revealed itself.

As I passed by the window where the sunlight streamed in, I was momentarily blinded as if there was a strong light on the floor.

The intense glare drew my attention to something unusual.

When I looked to the side, I saw a car with a body that was like a mirror.

The highly polished surface reflected the sunlight in dazzling patterns, creating a play of light and shadows on the garage floor.

It was then that I noticed something shining under the car.

Curious and cautious, I lay down to peek under and found gold bars stained with what seemed to be blood.

The sight of the gold, combined with the bloodstains, sent a chill down my spine.

My eyes widened, and I quickly put on gloves to avoid contaminating the evidence. I reached for the bars, feeling the cold metal and the sticky residue of blood.

Carefully, I placed them in a zip bag labeled "unknown items."

My mind raced with questions.

Why were these gold bars here, and how were they connected to the murder?

The presence of blood suggested a violent encounter, but the pristine condition of the garage contradicted that.

I needed more information, more clues to piece together this bizarre scenario.

I searched the entire room, meticulously going through every inch, but found nothing else that stood out.

With a mix of frustration and determination, I decided to return to where Detective Guerrero was, hoping to share my findings and get his input.

As I stepped outside, I noticed tracks in the dirt, as if something heavy had been dragged across the ground.

I followed the trail, which led me back to the crime scene.

The tracks ended at the same spot where we had found the victim.

This suggested that the victim had been dragged from another location and positioned here, adding another layer to the case.

I took photos of the tracks for documentation.

At the crime scene, the body was gone, and an ambulance was just leaving as I arrived.

The paramedics had worked quickly, and the area was now cleared of the immediate signs of violence.

"You're quick. What do you have there?" Detective Guerrero asked when he saw me. His eyes were sharp, taking in the zip bag I was holding.

I approached him and handed him the gold bar. "Do you think this is real?" I asked, noticing his surprise as he examined it.

"What the shit... Where did you find this?" His eyes widened in shock as he looked at me, clearly taken aback by the unexpected find.

"Under one of the cars parked in the room. I also found a shoe print," I explained, opening my phone and showing him the photo I had taken of the footprint.

"Do you think this belongs to the victim?" I asked, hoping he might have some insight.

I compared my foot to the footprint, showing the difference in size. It was clear that the footprint was significantly larger than my own.

"The victim's foot wasn't that big," said Detective Guerrero, his tone confirming my suspicions.

"That means it belongs to the killer?" I asked, the pieces slowly starting to come together.

He nodded, a look of intense concentration on his face.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, the weight of the case clearly taking its toll on him.

"Let's head back to headquarters. I need to file a report," he said, and I followed him.

The urgency in his voice was mirrored by the determination in my steps.

When we returned to headquarters, I went straight to my desk, the adrenaline from the day's discoveries still pumping through my veins.

I started writing my report on the evidence I had gathered, carefully documenting everything that could be used against the criminal.

Each detail was crucial, and I knew that our report needed to be thorough and precise.

This criminal was exceptionally skilled, just like before.

Clean in execution, leaving no fingerprints or anything that could reveal their identity.

It was frustratingly perfect, a testament to their experience and cunning.

Since there were no houses nearby, we had no witnesses.

Someone had simply reported seeing the man to us, but without witnesses or additional evidence, our task was daunting.

The location's isolation had worked in the killer's favor, allowing them to commit the crime without fear of immediate discovery.

---

"The victim we've identified is Mr. Kim Legazpi, 45 years old," Detective Skyler began, her tone serious as she addressed the team.

"The cars you saw, Seyren, belong to him and were stored on his property. However, the issue is that these cars are not registered, and most of them were bought second-hand. But right now, that's not our main focus."

She paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in.

"Our major problem is that we don't have any substantial clues about the identity or gender of the killer. We're back to square one, completely clueless for the second time."

Detective Skyler's frustration was palpable as she continued.

"We can't rely on the footprints left by the killers at the crime scene since they don't give us enough information. Therefore, I'm splitting the team. Half of you will spend the entire day investigating the field to look for additional evidence or clues. The rest of you will investigate the hotel where Mr. Legazpi lived and worked. This division should help us cover more ground."

Her authoritative tone left no room for questions. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, Detective," we all responded in unison, understanding the urgency of the situation.

With the plan set, we quickly went about organizing ourselves.

I was assigned to the team investigating the hotel, and we prepared to dive into our task.

Detective Guerrero would lead the investigation of the field, focusing on any possible evidence that might have been overlooked.

At the hotel, my team and I began our investigation by thoroughly examining the first victim's living quarters.

Simultaneously, Detective Guerrero and his team worked tirelessly in the field.

The split in our efforts was crucial, as it allowed us to approach the case from multiple angles.

As the day progressed, we remained hopeful that our separate investigations would yield valuable information, bringing us closer to solving the case and identifying the elusive killer.

Unfortunately, our search yielded no results-no fingerprints, no other clues. The investigation seemed to be at a standstill.

As my team continued searching the hotel, I took a moment to reflect by standing on the mini stage.

From that vantage point, I looked around, trying to piece together the events of that night.

I had performed as a pianist wearing a black mask, a choice I made to keep my identity hidden as the adopted child of the Camerons.

Standing there, I tried to vividly imagine myself back in that moment.

The room had been filled with elegantly dressed individuals, their attire reflecting the sophistication of the evening.

Faces were fresh and radiant, each person contributing to the grandeur of the event.

The last time I saw Mr. Alvarez, he was positioned near the stage, his gaze fixed intently on me.

I distinctly remembered feeling the weight of his stare that night, which made it hard to forget his presence.

Behind me, I visualized Elowen, skillfully playing the violin, adding to the ambiance of the event.

The entire scene replayed in my mind like a film, capturing the atmosphere and the people who were present.

As I reviewed these memories, it felt as though my mind was functioning like a CCTV, documenting every detail of the evening.

My photographic memory allowed me to recall specific faces and events with remarkable clarity.

In the midst of this mental replay, I recalled a tall man I had seen at the hotel entrance.

Right, How can I forget about him?

He was dressed entirely in black, including a mask, which made him stand out among the guests.

My concentration on these memories was abruptly interrupted when Detective Skyler's voice broke through my thoughts.

"What are you doing?"

xxxxx

To be continued....