saw the silhouette against the side of the house two doors down. He removed his hand from his penis and began slowly moving toward the intruder in his territory.
Another predator was in his hunting grounds. A tall, well-built, young man peeped into the window of two adolescent female sisters. This was unacceptable. These were his streets, his girls. They were not to be used by some young developing pedophile with a hard-on. He thought about calling the police. Wouldn’t that be ironic? But, he’d hate to be caught up in the arrest. His cell phone number would show up on the emergency operator’s screen. How would he explain his presence? It would lead to his name on a report and linkage was everything. Stay off the radar, he decided.
Instead, he followed the young man back to his home. He read the name on the return address labels neatly stickered to the mail the young man had already put out for morning pickup.
“Ummm, interesting. Good to know.”
He would keep an eye on this peeper from a distance. He’d learn his habits and the houses he hit, and if need be, pin his crimes on this budding sicko. He could drop a few dozen pairs of stolen underwear in this guy’s garage, slip a hard drive with incrementing images in the heater vent, and watch the cops eat him alive before they figured out his DNA didn’t match the evidence. Even then, the prosecution could claim contamination at the lab, throw out the DNA, and convict on the possession of the stolen items and pictures. That would be fun. The future looked bright as he wandered back home through the woods. Yeah, that would be fun.
#
7:15 AM, Saturday, February 14, 2015
Colfax Park Drive, Chatham County, NC
“Holy shit, Sheila, my house is less than three-quarters of a mile from here.” Rainey pointed over her shoulder.
“I know,” Sheila said. “I’m sure it’s disconcerting.”
“Disconcerting? I’ve never been so glad to live in a fortress with redundant security systems in my life.”
Sheila laughed. “I thought you pretty much lived in a state of euphoria over that virtually impenetrable wall you’ve built around your family.”
“It’s the virtually part that keeps me vigilant,” Rainey said, in all seriousness.
“So, let’s catch this creep.”
“That’s not going to be so easy.”
Sheila looked around the latest victim’s room. Paige Jeanerette was an eighteen-year-old high school senior. Her room reflected her bookish, introverted personality, and she seemed to have dedicated her life and much of her wall space to the Hunger Games.
“What’s he doing, Rainey? Why is he back to fetish crimes? And what the hell is this all about?”
Sheila pointed at Paige’s laptop on the desk in the corner. A word document left open on the screen contained a message to the young woman who occupied this room.
The note read, “I seen you at school in class. I think your pretty. I’m scared to talk to you. I hope you don’t be mad I took the panties. Its cause I like you.”
“He’s just playing with us and terrorizing her. Bad grammar and spelling—he’s trying to mimic a teenager, make her look over her shoulder.”
Sheila slapped the laptop closed with her latex-gloved hand. “I hate this guy. I mean I really, really hate this guy. I want his balls on a plaque in my office.”
“Sorry, but that isn’t going to happen,” Rainey said, looking out the window to the woods behind the house.
“You don’t think we’ll catch him?” Sheila questioned, incredulously.
“We’ll catch him, but you won’t get his balls. When he’s cornered, he’ll come peacefully. He’s too smart to go out in a blaze of glory. No, the guys at the BAU will be talking to him for years to come, albeit from death row.”
“Maybe he’ll hit the wrong woman, someone like you who’ll put a bullet in his ass, save the state some money.”
“You do know I’ve never actually killed anyone. I’ve had opportunities, but nope, not a one. I’m
Another predator was in his hunting grounds. A tall, well-built, young man peeped into the window of two adolescent female sisters. This was unacceptable. These were his streets, his girls. They were not to be used by some young developing pedophile with a hard-on. He thought about calling the police. Wouldn’t that be ironic? But, he’d hate to be caught up in the arrest. His cell phone number would show up on the emergency operator’s screen. How would he explain his presence? It would lead to his name on a report and linkage was everything. Stay off the radar, he decided.
Instead, he followed the young man back to his home. He read the name on the return address labels neatly stickered to the mail the young man had already put out for morning pickup.
“Ummm, interesting. Good to know.”
He would keep an eye on this peeper from a distance. He’d learn his habits and the houses he hit, and if need be, pin his crimes on this budding sicko. He could drop a few dozen pairs of stolen underwear in this guy’s garage, slip a hard drive with incrementing images in the heater vent, and watch the cops eat him alive before they figured out his DNA didn’t match the evidence. Even then, the prosecution could claim contamination at the lab, throw out the DNA, and convict on the possession of the stolen items and pictures. That would be fun. The future looked bright as he wandered back home through the woods. Yeah, that would be fun.
#
7:15 AM, Saturday, February 14, 2015
Colfax Park Drive, Chatham County, NC
“Holy shit, Sheila, my house is less than three-quarters of a mile from here.” Rainey pointed over her shoulder.
“I know,” Sheila said. “I’m sure it’s disconcerting.”
“Disconcerting? I’ve never been so glad to live in a fortress with redundant security systems in my life.”
Sheila laughed. “I thought you pretty much lived in a state of euphoria over that virtually impenetrable wall you’ve built around your family.”
“It’s the virtually part that keeps me vigilant,” Rainey said, in all seriousness.
“So, let’s catch this creep.”
“That’s not going to be so easy.”
Sheila looked around the latest victim’s room. Paige Jeanerette was an eighteen-year-old high school senior. Her room reflected her bookish, introverted personality, and she seemed to have dedicated her life and much of her wall space to the Hunger Games.
“What’s he doing, Rainey? Why is he back to fetish crimes? And what the hell is this all about?”
Sheila pointed at Paige’s laptop on the desk in the corner. A word document left open on the screen contained a message to the young woman who occupied this room.
The note read, “I seen you at school in class. I think your pretty. I’m scared to talk to you. I hope you don’t be mad I took the panties. Its cause I like you.”
“He’s just playing with us and terrorizing her. Bad grammar and spelling—he’s trying to mimic a teenager, make her look over her shoulder.”
Sheila slapped the laptop closed with her latex-gloved hand. “I hate this guy. I mean I really, really hate this guy. I want his balls on a plaque in my office.”
“Sorry, but that isn’t going to happen,” Rainey said, looking out the window to the woods behind the house.
“You don’t think we’ll catch him?” Sheila questioned, incredulously.
“We’ll catch him, but you won’t get his balls. When he’s cornered, he’ll come peacefully. He’s too smart to go out in a blaze of glory. No, the guys at the BAU will be talking to him for years to come, albeit from death row.”
“Maybe he’ll hit the wrong woman, someone like you who’ll put a bullet in his ass, save the state some money.”
“You do know I’ve never actually killed anyone. I’ve had opportunities, but nope, not a one. I’m
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