with her again. That woman had no problem going head to head with me, not a feat most would try, but hell if that didn’t turn me on even more. She was a spitfire, tied up in a sweet little package. Now all I had to do was get her to follow a fuckin’ order. I was almost back to the station, when I saw Barry sitting in his patrol car just off main. Deciding that a conversation needed to be had, and not wanting to do it at the office; I pulled over and got out of my truck, walked across the street, pulled open the passenger door and then bent my body into the unit. Barry looked at me and said nothing for a moment, then laid it out for me.
“You fuck her over; I’ll be waiting in the wings.”
“Christ, twice in one day I get shit about breaking hearts.”
“You’re not known for sticking it out.”
“I’m not known for putting up with bullshit either, but it happens.”
“So you're saying it’s different this time?”
“I’m saying it’s already different, she’s not like the others, she pisses me off.” Barry’s head snapped back when I said that, the confusion clear. Join the club. So I tried to explain.
“Women don’t piss me off, they annoy me first.” He still looked confused.
“Jesus, I’ve never been with a woman who pisses me off because she won’t listen.”
“How the fuck does that make Jennifer different than all the other women whose hearts you’ve broken?”
“How the fuck do I know, I’ve never been pissed at one! Jenn pisses me off enough to arrest her ass, just to keep her safe. Does that tell you something? ‘Cause if it does, enlighten the fuck out of me, I’d really like to know why a woman who pisses me off, turns me on.”
“Jesus, Jack, I’m not gonna interpret this shit for you. You like to fight with women, fine, just don’t fuckin’ string her along while you’re having fun.”
This was getting us nowhere; Barry wanted Jenn, and I wasn’t about to let him near her. Where the hell these possessive feelings for a woman I met yesterday were coming from, beat the hell out of me, but I learned a long time ago to trust your gut, and it’s never let me down. I opened the door to get out and then turned back to Barry, who was still pissed off. “I’m not backing off. You got a problem with that, fine. I can respect that. But in the future you keep your shit together and don’t bring your feelings for Jenn and me to the office.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond; I got out and headed to my truck. I had a killer to find, and I needed to focus on that.
Chapter Six
A Gift
“Ok, guys, I spent last night going over profiles of serial killers. The FBI said that serial killers usually aren’t loners, are gainfully employed, have families in many instances and almost never come across as creepy.”
Sitting in the back of McGill’s with Rosie, Ben and Gerry as my audience, I laid out what I’d researched about serial killers. To say I was creeped out is an understatement, but you can’t choose your subject matter in journalism, it picks you. The amount of information that can be obtained on the Internet about these monsters is staggering.
“I was under the impression that serial killers are almost always white males, but my research cleared up that point, and I found they span all racial groups. The motivation behind serial killings is not always or for the most part even sexual in nature. Financial gain, attention seeking, or just for the thrill of the kill, just to name a few, are more likely. They operate within a comfort zone, anchor points close to home. They very rarely travel the interstate; unless they are so comfortable with their expertise they do it to avoid detection. Their IQ ranges from borderline to extremely smart, most don’t consider themselves invincible but as they get comfortable with killing, becoming more and more brave. This usually makes their kills sloppy and helps lead to
“You fuck her over; I’ll be waiting in the wings.”
“Christ, twice in one day I get shit about breaking hearts.”
“You’re not known for sticking it out.”
“I’m not known for putting up with bullshit either, but it happens.”
“So you're saying it’s different this time?”
“I’m saying it’s already different, she’s not like the others, she pisses me off.” Barry’s head snapped back when I said that, the confusion clear. Join the club. So I tried to explain.
“Women don’t piss me off, they annoy me first.” He still looked confused.
“Jesus, I’ve never been with a woman who pisses me off because she won’t listen.”
“How the fuck does that make Jennifer different than all the other women whose hearts you’ve broken?”
“How the fuck do I know, I’ve never been pissed at one! Jenn pisses me off enough to arrest her ass, just to keep her safe. Does that tell you something? ‘Cause if it does, enlighten the fuck out of me, I’d really like to know why a woman who pisses me off, turns me on.”
“Jesus, Jack, I’m not gonna interpret this shit for you. You like to fight with women, fine, just don’t fuckin’ string her along while you’re having fun.”
This was getting us nowhere; Barry wanted Jenn, and I wasn’t about to let him near her. Where the hell these possessive feelings for a woman I met yesterday were coming from, beat the hell out of me, but I learned a long time ago to trust your gut, and it’s never let me down. I opened the door to get out and then turned back to Barry, who was still pissed off. “I’m not backing off. You got a problem with that, fine. I can respect that. But in the future you keep your shit together and don’t bring your feelings for Jenn and me to the office.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond; I got out and headed to my truck. I had a killer to find, and I needed to focus on that.
Chapter Six
A Gift
“Ok, guys, I spent last night going over profiles of serial killers. The FBI said that serial killers usually aren’t loners, are gainfully employed, have families in many instances and almost never come across as creepy.”
Sitting in the back of McGill’s with Rosie, Ben and Gerry as my audience, I laid out what I’d researched about serial killers. To say I was creeped out is an understatement, but you can’t choose your subject matter in journalism, it picks you. The amount of information that can be obtained on the Internet about these monsters is staggering.
“I was under the impression that serial killers are almost always white males, but my research cleared up that point, and I found they span all racial groups. The motivation behind serial killings is not always or for the most part even sexual in nature. Financial gain, attention seeking, or just for the thrill of the kill, just to name a few, are more likely. They operate within a comfort zone, anchor points close to home. They very rarely travel the interstate; unless they are so comfortable with their expertise they do it to avoid detection. Their IQ ranges from borderline to extremely smart, most don’t consider themselves invincible but as they get comfortable with killing, becoming more and more brave. This usually makes their kills sloppy and helps lead to
Similar Books
