threshold. “Damn it Gabe, can’t you knock?”
Shit.
I drop my head in to my hands and hold still for what feels like hours. Guess I don’t need to apologize for being an ass, as I have a feeling Gabe is about to beat me to the punch.
“Jesus, Syd. Why didn’t........”
“No, Gabe. Let it go. You know more now than I ever intended for you to know. It’s the past and......” I drift off again, cause I don’t know what else to say. Gabe now knows why I lost it earlier in this very office, and again at the deli. Damn it. I was hoping to keep my past in the past and not let it interfere with this investigation. Now he’s going to be watching me like a hawk.
I shake it off and grab the files on Chuck’s desk, fingering the pages and sorting through the photos. I move over to the conference table in the corner and start spreading out the photos.
Chuck and Gabe are still sitting, watching me. I can tell they are wondering what I’m doing, but I keep silent and go about putting the puzzle pieces together. I take the photos of Samantha Brockman and Sophia Fishman and lay them out, side by side in the best order I can see. Both are brunette, similar features and obviously related.
With my hands on my hips, I stand over the table staring. “Chuck, do you have a magnifying glass?” I don’t look back at him, but I hear his desk drawer open and close. Within seconds I feel him standing to my right, and another warm body to my left. I don’t look up from the photos because I don’t want to miss what I think I might be seeing.
“What is it Syd?” I feel his warm breath in my ear, almost intimately. Shivers run up and down my spine, but I brush it off and get back to the task at hand. I know now I am going to struggle through this investigation, for more than one reason.
I take the magnifying glass from Chuck and lean into the photos, my eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. Sophia on the right and Samantha to the left. Both bodies in various states of decomposition and rot, but their features still show. Their hair is matted and clumps of it have been pulled out, leaving bare scalp showing. Samantha has one eye missing, but you can see the deep brown of the right one. Both of Sophia’s eyes are closed, so I can’t see their color. I scan the puncture wounds from the barbed wire that was tightly wrapped around their necks, severing the carotid artery. They both bled out from their wounds. My eyes scan their chest and the ripped clothing and travel down to their wrists, both bound with barbed wire. I can feel the bile rising in my throat as I remember my past, knowing these girls went through something amazingly similar.
I feel a warm hand press to my lower back and I relax, but only a little. I lean in with the glass to my eye and scan the photo of the first victim, Samantha Brockman. “Tell me about her.”
I say, as I peruse the photos one by one.
“Runaway, found on th e banks of the East River a month ago. No immediate family that we could locate, though we do know who her birth mother was. She was adopted, but was living in a half-way house.” Chuck tells me as I continue scanning the photos. I move over to Sophia Fishman and begin the same process.
“And this one?” I ask, not looking up.
“We have a bit more information on her. She’s the daughter of a high profile bank exec, disappeared a few days ago and then washed up on the banks of the Hudson.”
“Hmm. Both tossed in the river, eh?”
“Yeah, bodies in similar condition.”
My fingers trace the photos when something spots my eye. “Look at this.” I say I as go back to the first set of photos and zone in on the same area, the right hip. “Both have a tattoo here.” I whisper as I get closer to the pictures.
I take the magnifying glass from him and get closer to the pictures. My body starts shaking as I flash to my own kidnapping where I was strapped down and a tattoo carved in to my skin.
“It’s him, Chuck. It
Shit.
I drop my head in to my hands and hold still for what feels like hours. Guess I don’t need to apologize for being an ass, as I have a feeling Gabe is about to beat me to the punch.
“Jesus, Syd. Why didn’t........”
“No, Gabe. Let it go. You know more now than I ever intended for you to know. It’s the past and......” I drift off again, cause I don’t know what else to say. Gabe now knows why I lost it earlier in this very office, and again at the deli. Damn it. I was hoping to keep my past in the past and not let it interfere with this investigation. Now he’s going to be watching me like a hawk.
I shake it off and grab the files on Chuck’s desk, fingering the pages and sorting through the photos. I move over to the conference table in the corner and start spreading out the photos.
Chuck and Gabe are still sitting, watching me. I can tell they are wondering what I’m doing, but I keep silent and go about putting the puzzle pieces together. I take the photos of Samantha Brockman and Sophia Fishman and lay them out, side by side in the best order I can see. Both are brunette, similar features and obviously related.
With my hands on my hips, I stand over the table staring. “Chuck, do you have a magnifying glass?” I don’t look back at him, but I hear his desk drawer open and close. Within seconds I feel him standing to my right, and another warm body to my left. I don’t look up from the photos because I don’t want to miss what I think I might be seeing.
“What is it Syd?” I feel his warm breath in my ear, almost intimately. Shivers run up and down my spine, but I brush it off and get back to the task at hand. I know now I am going to struggle through this investigation, for more than one reason.
I take the magnifying glass from Chuck and lean into the photos, my eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. Sophia on the right and Samantha to the left. Both bodies in various states of decomposition and rot, but their features still show. Their hair is matted and clumps of it have been pulled out, leaving bare scalp showing. Samantha has one eye missing, but you can see the deep brown of the right one. Both of Sophia’s eyes are closed, so I can’t see their color. I scan the puncture wounds from the barbed wire that was tightly wrapped around their necks, severing the carotid artery. They both bled out from their wounds. My eyes scan their chest and the ripped clothing and travel down to their wrists, both bound with barbed wire. I can feel the bile rising in my throat as I remember my past, knowing these girls went through something amazingly similar.
I feel a warm hand press to my lower back and I relax, but only a little. I lean in with the glass to my eye and scan the photo of the first victim, Samantha Brockman. “Tell me about her.”
I say, as I peruse the photos one by one.
“Runaway, found on th e banks of the East River a month ago. No immediate family that we could locate, though we do know who her birth mother was. She was adopted, but was living in a half-way house.” Chuck tells me as I continue scanning the photos. I move over to Sophia Fishman and begin the same process.
“And this one?” I ask, not looking up.
“We have a bit more information on her. She’s the daughter of a high profile bank exec, disappeared a few days ago and then washed up on the banks of the Hudson.”
“Hmm. Both tossed in the river, eh?”
“Yeah, bodies in similar condition.”
My fingers trace the photos when something spots my eye. “Look at this.” I say I as go back to the first set of photos and zone in on the same area, the right hip. “Both have a tattoo here.” I whisper as I get closer to the pictures.
I take the magnifying glass from him and get closer to the pictures. My body starts shaking as I flash to my own kidnapping where I was strapped down and a tattoo carved in to my skin.
“It’s him, Chuck. It
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