Chapter 11

“You guys suck.” Will flicked the lights in his office on and set a cup of hot chocolate on his desk. Ryan and I followed suit, sitting in the chairs across from Will. We both held Starbuck's coffee.

“So,” Will began. He pulled something on wheels into the middle of the room, “Rose has connections to two of the three vics, right?”

The thing Will had brought to the centre of the room was a board. One half was dry erase, the other cork. Will reached for a black marker and a box of tacks.

“Yeah,” Ryan began. He took a sip of coffee, “Stupid b***h is a pretty good liar.”

Someone was cranky.

Will turned on his heel. “Agent Carr, are you showing hostility towards Ms. Rose? Why would this be?”

Ryan sighed and set down his coffee. “Look, kid. I'm not here to be examined. I'm here to find out what the hell is wrong with this woman's brain, and why, if she is the perp, she would kill her psychologist and customer.”

Will looked a little bit taken aback. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Will, ignore him. He's cranky because I woke him up for this.”

“I am not. I'm just tired in general. And I'm sick of this case.” Ryan said, turning his head to look at me. I gave him a look that screamed 'shut up'. He shrugged. Will grabbed some pictures off of his desk and tacked them into the corked side of the board. One was Olivia Rose. He placed it at the very bottom. The other three he was holding went above her. Remy Hadley, Robert Nichlson, and Pablo Tacolini. He turned back to us.

“So Olivia is currently our prime suspect, right?” Ryan and I both nodded, “Okay, so, she's at the bottom. What connects her to the victims?”

I crossed my legs. “She's connected to Tacolini because she went home with him. She danced for him at La Skratch, took him home, obviously slept with him. That's their connection.”

“Nichlson was her therapist,” Ryan began, “According to Nichlson's secretary, Olivia had been directed to the place by her boss, Colin Jackson.”

I looked at him. “Why was Colin getting therapy in the first place?”

“Some sort of masculinity thing,” He shrugged, “Anyway, apparently he told Olivia the guy worked wonders. Thought maybe she should see him. The secretary said that she came in there initially for anger management problems, one session a week, which makes sense, because she's also in the system for an assault charge. Anyway, she ended up coming back for more classes. Seems Nichlson thought there were more than a few anger problems wrong with her.”

Will nodded, taking in the information. “Did Nichlson ever write down what he thought was wrong with Rose?”

Ryan pulled out his phone. “Uh...he said that she exhibited the beginnings of an psychopath. Apparently said some pretty creepy things to him.”

“Does it say exactly what she said?”

Ryan checked the phone again. “Nope.”

Will nodded. “Well, even the anger management issue is a clue. Anger problems usually cause aggression towards people. The pent up anger is expressed towards others. Definitely a warning of a serial killer or psychopath.”

“So does she fit the actual profile of a serial killer?” I asked, picking up my coffee cup and drinking.

“Well, serial killers are usually very low in self esteem. They kill to make themselves feel more powerful and more prominent. They do it to feel good about themselves. That really what makes most do it again. You kill once, you get this rush of power, being able to control the fate of your victim, it's addictive. Almost impossible to stop. It's like drugs. You said yourself that Olivia Rose is a stripper. Strippers tend to do what they do because of low self esteem. They offer themselves to men for money and it makes them feel loved, even if it's only for one night.”

“Most strippers come from broken families, right? Ones torn apart by drugs and abuse?” I asked.

Will nodded. “Yeah, usually. But then again, there aren't very many serial killers that double as strippers.”

Ryan sighed loudly. Will put his hands up, “It's still a possibility, don't worry,” he said. Ryan calmed down, “Promiscuous sexual behaviour also is a warning sign of a psychopath. It's just the combination of stripper and serial killer is uncommon. Not that it can't happen or anything.”

I nodded and took it in. “So you think Olivia could be our killer?”

“She very well could be. Olivia Rose is an intelligent woman. Most intelligent psychopaths don't end up in jail. She was in therapy, which in the situation of a serial killer isn't going to be helpful either way. Psychopaths tend to commit crimes sooner after receiving counselling. And she fits the description for a female serial killer. A white woman, between the ages of 25 and 35 with high intelligence.”

Ryan stood quickly. “Okay, so she fits the profile. We know what she may or may not have done. Now I want to know why,” He began. He started pacing, “I need a motive. Why did would she kill Nichlson? Why would she kill Tacolini? Why would she kill Hadley? She didn't even know Hadley.”

Will sat. “Serial killers choose most of their victims at random. Hadley could have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. As for Nichlson, he was her therapist. We know she had an anger management problem. She could've snapped and came after him. With Tacolini, there's no clear motive, other than the power. I just mentioned, once you kill, it's like drugs. It's tough to quit. Rose could have gotten caught up in the exhilaration, the adrenaline. Killed Tacolini on instinct. After getting his money, of course.”

Ryan stopped pacing. “Okay. Okay, maybe you're right, but I need evidence! I mean, the murders don't even match up! Hadley and Nichlson were stabbed to death and then decapitated. Tacolini was only decapitated. One similarity. Not gonna cut it.”

“Maybe someone walked in on her when she was killing him. Had to finish quickly.” Will suggested. I said nothing. Something was pulling at the back of my mind. I shrugged it off.

“Maybe.” Ryan nodded, “We have to talk to Rose again anyway.” He looked to me.

“Ready to go?”

I nodded and stood, grabbing my coffee. Ryan and I left Will's office. I saw the poor guy sigh, flop down in his chair, and put a hand over his eyes.

“You were kind of mean to him.”

Ryan looked over at me. “You think? I don't think I was mean enough, personally.”

I reached over and punched him in the shoulder. He looked down at me, smirked, and raised an eyebrow. I grinned.

“Who are we speaking to first?” I asked. He looked at his watch.

“Jackson.”

We walked to interrogation, a place I'd been to much too much lately. Ryan pulled the black door open for me. A familiar, white suited man sat in the interrogation chair. Ryan and I entered, joining Jackson at the table. He looked up.

“Hello, Agent Carr, Dr. Amos. Pleasure.”

Ryan nodded, as did I, “Thank you for coming to see us so early, Mr. Jackson.”

Colin nodded. “No problem. Always here to help.”

Ryan placed an elbow on the table and rested his face against his palm, “Mr. Jackson, I thik you declined to tell us something at the club yesterday night.”

Jackson looked surprised. “I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Carr. I told you everything about Olivia Rose that I know yesterday.”

Ryan sighed. “You told us about Olivia Rose, but you didn't tell us about yourself, Mr. Jackson. You didn't tell us you were seeing a therapist. The same therapist as Olivia, who, coincidentally, was killed less than three weeks ago.”

“Robert's dead?” Jackson's eyes widened.

“Yes.” Ryan said bluntly. “Now, care to tell us why you forgot to mention your little secret?”

Jackson sighed. He looked to me and then to Ryan, looking for the words to use.

“Look, I didn't tell you for the same reasons I go to the shrink in the first place. I'm...very unsure of my masculinity. That's why I bought La Skratch. And that's why I didn't tell you about the shrink.” He said, looking down at the table. He glanced up at Ryan, “Not only that, but you cops always assume things. If I'd have told you this last night, you'd have arrested me! Face it. You don't care who goes to jail, as long as the case is done and you can go home.”

Not the smartest thing to say to Ryan. He stood up an placed his hands on the table.

“Excuse me?” He began. I knew a rant was coming, “I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I am an American citizen who is working with specialized agents to solve murder cases so families can rest easy knowing the people that killed their loved ones are locked away. I make sure that killers do not go free. I make sure that the people I lock up will never kill again. Never cause the same grief that they caused others. See this woman sitting beside me? She's an even better person than I. Dr. Katelyn Elizabeth Amos makes sure that these people do not die in anonymity. She is the reason these families know what happened to their loved ones. Without her, there would be a lot of people out there wondering where their mothers, daughters, sons, fathers, even their god damn grandparents were! Neither of us appreciates your disrespectful comments. Keep them to yourself, and keep your trap shut. And Mr. Jackson, I advise you to think before you speak to me in such a way. I am not going to just sit there and take it. I do carry weapons, sir.”

Jackson surprisingly burst into laughs. “That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard in my li-”

I didn't expect Ryan to punch him in the face.

Jackson fell from the chair, holding his jaw in pain, “What the hell?”

“What the hell? What the hell did I just tell you?” Ryan exclaimed. I could see him cracking his knuckles under the table. I could hear his teeth grinding together. He was truly pissed off.

“Whatever, man. This is police brutality!” Colin said, picking himself up off of the floor. Ryan snorted.

“Call it whatever the f**k you want, buddy. I'm done with your bullshit.” Ryan said viciously. I watched as he started to leave the room. I quickly followed. When we were outside of the room, Ryan placed his head up against the wall and inhaled deeply. I bit my lip.

“He really pissed you off, didn't he?” I asked quietly. The head turned to look at me.

“Yeah. He really did.”

I tilted my head to the side and sighed. “You know, what you said in there...it was sweet. Thank you. Not that many people respect my profession.”

I saw one side of his mouth twitch. “It's true. What you do is amazing. These people don't die anonymously because of you. And you know what? These b******s...they kill. They hide out for a bit. The years go by, they think they've gotten away with it. It's like they don't even care that they spent another person's life to get what they wanted. They think they're safe. You make those b******s unsafe. That's why I'm nice to you.”

I smiled. “You know I wouldn't be able to do it without you, Ry.”

He grinned at my use of his nickname and held out his arms. I buried my head in his chest and let him hug me.

“Thank you.” Emotion. Breath rustled my hair. We pulled back.

“Let's go have another chat with Ms. Olivia Rose.”

Author's Note

Heyaa. So, just so you know, I did in fact, paraphrase a quote from the the FOX television drama Bones. Which I DO NOT OWN.

Don't sue me.

Otherwise, enjoy!