Chapter 12

Trigger warning: This part contains explicit descriptions of murder, rape and/or torture, which may be disturbing or triggering for some readers.

I pulled at the blinds and peered outside. Just to make sure nobody was out there watching me. Waiting. But I saw no flash of dark hair ducking out of sight or a grin punctuated with deep dimples peering at me from the bushes out front. All appeared normal, but then again, what did I know? This wasn’t exactly my area of expertise. Searching for signs of danger, that is.

Apparently I had no concept of what that entailed.

I punched the last of the series of numbers into my phone and then continued to survey the courtyard as it began to ring. Just as I was about to hang up, there was a click on the line and then a few quick breaths before a voice finally said, “Agent Walker.”

“Er, Agent Walker, this is Emmy. Emmy Bryant?” I said, thinking he must interview dozens of people every day for his job and therefore couldn’t be expected to remember every single one of them. “You came by yesterday with your partner to talk to me about—”

“I remember,” he said, cutting me off. His tone was light but professional.

“Right. Anyway, you said I could call if I needed anything? Well, I need something,” I said. There was silence on his end. “I need more information.”

“What kind of information do you need?” he asked me curiously.

“Look, something’s happened and…well, I’d rather not do this over the phone,” I said, trying to take control of the conversation again. “Can we meet?”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

“Yeah. Well, not exactly. I have a serial killer courting me, after all,” I said. “But it’s not like I need you to call in the cavalry. You’ll do just fine. So, can we meet?”

There was a pause on his end of the line. As I waited for him to respond, I looked down at the business card he’d given me. It was simple, basic. Just his name, division and phone number.

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION

NATIONAL CENTER FOR THE ANALYSIS OF VIOLENT CRIME 

Special Agent Julian Walker

804-261-1044

“Yeah. When and where?” he asked. I could hear noise in the background, a subtle buzz of chatter. I wondered where he was. If he was at the office or out in the field.

“Well, I have to work the graveyard shift at the station, and then I have class tomorrow afternoon and work again after that…” I said, trying to figure out a time that I could actually meet with him.

“I’ll meet you at the station,” he said, making the decision for me.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I know it’s sort of late and all…”

“Yeah, no problem,” he said easily. “I need gas anyway.”

“Okay. Er, thanks,” I said. “If you come by anytime after midnight, it should be pretty quiet. I’ll have to duck out if any customers come, but for the most part we’ll be alone. Do you need directions?”

There was a rustling of papers.

“Nope. Got it right here,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

How did he know where I work? What other details of my life did he have in his little file?

I pulled my hands around my body in an attempt to comfort myself, but it did nothing to get rid of the feeling that I was being stalked by more than one man.

*          *          *          *

The sky seemed darker than usual. Outside the station the air was dead silent. And it was never quiet around here. Being located right off the highway made sure of that.

I’d started my shift at eleven and hadn’t seen a single car since my co-worker had taken off. Under normal circumstances, I’d spend the night alternating between stitching up my ballet gear and choreographing. But tonight I had other things on my mind, so I just sat and watched.

I looked around as the lights inside the booth flickered, giving off an eerie, strobe light effect. It made my eyes feel funny, like I was missing something in those brief moments when it was pitch black. But then they’d come back on and everything was exactly as it had been before. Still, my heart beat just a little bit faster because of it.

Had the lights always done that or was this something new?

Logic told me I was being silly. That I was just shaky after reading Kyle’s letter and then getting his message. Even so, my stomach felt the same way it did before going onstage to dance. Nervous. High on adrenaline. And fear.

I went to check my phone again, to see if I’d missed a call or text from Agent Walker. He still hadn’t shown and it was almost 1am. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. Or been called in to another case that was more important than meeting some teenager in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, to answer her questions.

The phone slipped out of my sweaty hands and landed with a thud on the floor. I’d seen it as it was happening, but it was still shocking when the noise reverberated throughout the tiny office.

Hopping off the stool, I pliéd my way down to the ground, keeping my eyes fixed on the plexiglass window above me. It was filthy. Smudges danced across the surface, both inside and out, lines of dirt and grease leaving proof of those who’d been here at one time or another.

Someone should clean that window.

My fingers swept blindly along the floor underneath the desk, as I tried to find my fallen phone. But they were only met with dust and wood.

Shit.

I didn’t want to look away from the window. But I wasn’t going to find my phone by searching around blindly, and I needed it in case Agent Walker called.

Or if I needed to call someone.

Frustrated, I leaned down, placing my face as close to the floor as I could get it without actually touching anything. It was even more disgusting down here than the window was. How had I worked in this shithole for so long and never found it repulsive before?

It took longer than I would’ve liked for my eyes to adjust to the darkness below, but I finally made out the shape of my phone far in the back. Accepting the fact that I was really going to have to reach in order to retrieve it, I took a deep breath before letting my arm disappear underneath the old metal furniture. I had the urge to cough, but knew I’d end up with a face full of dustballs, so I held it in even as I ran out of breath.

I grasped the cool plastic in my hand and pulled it out from where it had been hiding. Making a face, I brushed off the dust and hair and God knows what else that was now covering my phone, and stood up. Firing up the screen, I saw that there were still no new calls.

Frowning, I looked out the dirty window again, silently cursing Agent Walker for not at least giving me a heads up that he was cancelling on me.

As I did this, my eyes fell on a car parked in one of the spots furthest away from the office and pumps, and I froze. I was almost positive it hadn’t been parked there before. The lamp above that area was blown out, leaving the space mostly in shadows. I couldn’t tell whether someone was sitting inside it or not. I couldn’t even make out the license plate from here.

If someone had driven up, I would’ve heard it, wouldn’t I? It’s not like the booth was soundproof.

I sat stone still for fifteen seconds, waiting for someone to get out of the car. Then thirty. A full minute went by before I allowed myself to move again, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. Someone had probably just parked there for a few hours, as they went into one of the nearby bars.

“Emmy,” a voice said behind me.

My head jerked around to find the door to the office open and a man standing in the doorway. I jumped backward on the stool, knocking it over and barely catching myself before it clanked to the ground.

And then I screamed.

“Whoa…I thought dancers were supposed to be graceful,” Agent Walker said with a smile.

“What are you, a freaking ninja or something?” I shouted, simultaneously angry and happy to see him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!”

He raised an eyebrow at me as I scolded him. I had a feeling people didn’t do it very often.

“Sorry. It’s sort of a habit,” he said carefully. “As an agent, you learn to be stealthy. It’s easier to assess a situation that way.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” I muttered, still clutching my phone in my hand. I was gripping it so tightly my knuckles were turning white. Noticing this, I placed it on the counter and righted the stool before sitting on it.

“Is it okay if I come in?” Agent Walker asked.

“Could I stop you if I wanted to?” I snapped back, feeling stupid for being so jumpy before.

“No,” he said, still not moving. “But it’s still polite to ask.”

I opened my mouth to say something snarky, but saw that he was being sincere. The fact that he could go from sarcastic to professional at a moment’s notice was unnerving. It meant he could adopt any emotion a situation called for, which made him excellent at manipulation. Was that a government thing—something he was taught to do? Or was it a special talent that only he had? The reason he’d been recruited in the first place?

Studying him carefully, I motioned for him to come in.

“Sorry. There’s not really any place to sit…” I started.

There was only ever one attendant in the office at a time, so there wasn’t any need for two chairs. We probably weren’t even supposed to have visitors while we were on a shift. Another thing I hadn’t thought about when I’d invited Agent Walker here to talk.

“I don’t mind standing,” he said, leaning against the counter just a few feet away from me. There wasn’t much space in the office and it was impossible to ignore how close we had to be to fit inside. How close I had to be to this man I barely knew.

Agent Walker seemed comfortable though, like our proximity didn’t bother him at all. I studied him as his eyes wandered around the office, taking in all the little details of where I spent most of my nights. As I watched, he touched a place on his hand over and over again. He’d been doing the same thing at my apartment. When he saw that I’d noticed, he stopped the motion, and placed his hands back on the counter behind him. It was then that I saw the ring on his middle finger. And he hadn’t been rubbing it; he’d been turning it. Spinning it around and around methodically.

“So, you wanted to talk about something?” he asked, pulling my attention away from his jewelry and back to why he was there.

I blinked and then focused my eyes on his.

“Yes,” I said. “You and Agent Landon sort of surprised me the other day when you showed up at my apartment and told me about Kyle…and everything he’s done.”

Agent Walker nodded.

“Well, there was so much to take in at the time that I didn’t get to ask you any of the questions that I had,” I said.

“It doesn’t really work that way Miss Bryant—” he said.

“Emmy,” I insisted, cutting him off. I wasn’t sure how far I could push him before I pissed him off and landed myself in trouble, so I tried to keep my voice level. “And with all due respect, I need it to work that way.”

Agent Walker pressed his lips together tightly, like he was trying to keep himself from saying something. Finally he said, “And why’s that?”

“Because now I’m in this. I’m involved,” I said, angrily. “You’ve all forced me to be.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Well, first you and your buddy came over and interrupted my life by telling me about Kyle. Guess what? People don’t always need to know everything that happens in this world. Some of us are happy living in our own reality. Where serial killers don’t exist,” I said, my voice taking on a slightly hysterical tone. “Then, I get a letter from Kyle, saying all this stuff about how he’s innocent, and that he wants me to come and visit him. Still, I think maybe I can just ignore it all, go back to my life. That he’ll get the hint and forget about me. But then he called me. From prison.”

“He called you?” Agent Walker asked, frowning.

“Yeah. So now, it’s becoming annoyingly clear that this isn’t going to go away unless I make it,” I said. “And to do that, I’m going to need more information. I need to know everything he knows, so I can make him finally see the truth. The actual truth, not his version. That I’m not interested in him. That nothing ever happened between us. That he needs to leave me alone. That I want my life back. So, I need to know everything. Everything you think he did. Everything he said we did. Everything.”

He remained silent as I pushed through the speech I’d been working on since that morning. I’d forgotten a few points—I was sure of that—but the gist of what I’d wanted to say was there. And by the look on his face, Agent Walker had heard me loud and clear.

“You finished?” he asked when I was quiet again.

I nodded.

“Okay. First off, I’m sorry if our presence in your home popped the Disney princess bubble that you live in, but this case is bigger than the comfort of any one girl. We’re trying to save lives here and find justice for dozens of others whose lives have already been stolen,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his finger to quiet me.

“Second, I empathize with what you must be feeling after Kyle contacted you while in custody. I even understand your interest in having all the details of the case, but don’t forget that this is a serial murder investigation. And a very brutal one at that. You can imagine how motivated we are to nail this guy to the wall for what he’s done. It might not make sense to you now, but that means we can’t show our hand to every person who pops up in the duration of this case.”

The pride I’d been feeling after giving my speech began to slip away.

“Now, with that said, I’m going to answer some of your questions—the ones that I feel won’t hurt the case for you to know—because as much as I want to tell you that Kyle will never be able to bother you where he is, I can’t promise that. The system isn’t perfect and people have a way of getting messages out even when they’re not supposed to. So, sadly, I think you may be right. If he’s fixated on you, I don’t see him leaving you alone on his own accord,” he said grimly. “But I would highly recommend that you not go and visit Kyle in jail. Even though he’s locked up and there will be guards around him, he is still a violent killer and a sociopath. If you make him angry, there’s no telling how he’ll react and what he’ll do. If you think your life has been interrupted so far…confronting him could be worse.”

I hadn’t thought this conversation would end with me being more fearful than before, but none of this was making me feel empowered. Quite the opposite, actually. Now I was just plain scared.

And Agent Walker wasn’t finished.

“Now, from what I’ve gathered, you’re someone who’s used to being in control. You don’t like it when people get in the way of what you want, and when you’ve put your mind to something, it’s damn-near impossible to steer you from it. So I know that even though I’ve warned you about how dangerous it is for you to get in the middle of this, you’re probably not going to listen to me,” he said, crossing his arms and placing his hands underneath his armpits. “All I can hope is that after you have more of the facts, you may be less likely to do something stupid like get yourself killed. At the very least, you’ll know what you’re getting yourself into, and I won’t have to feel guilty over whatever happens if you choose to ignore my warnings.”

This time when he finally stopped talking, I had nothing to say. I was stunned. What he’d said had been mean and totally harsh…

But also probably true.

Sure, there were certainly better ways he could’ve said it, but I had a feeling Agent Walker was being one hundred percent honest with me now. His job was to focus on catching the guy who’d butchered seventeen girls. Girls like me. Not to cater to the whims of a teenager with control issues.

But he’d also admitted that I was right. About Kyle not leaving me alone, at least. So as scary as it was to go down this rabbit hole and possibly let more madness into my safe, comfortable life, it was the only answer I had right now.

“I didn’t mean to…be insensitive about the situation, Agent Walker. And if I came off that way, I apologize,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “You’re right. This isn’t just about me. And I certainly don’t want to get in the way of your investigation. But those girls aren’t the only victims here. I need to be able to move on and have some semblance of a life. I’m just trying to make sure Kyle doesn’t ruin my life, too.”

The warmth from our breath had made the temperature inside the booth rise and a light layer of condensation was building up on the mucky window. As if he’d just realized this too, Agent Walker ran his hand through his hair and began to pace the tiny room, helping to circulate the air as he moved.

“Self-preservation,” he said, his voice back to normal. Then he stopped and looked at me. “I can respect that. And you should have a healthy dose of that if you’re considering getting involved in this. In the end, your focus should always be on staying alive. If you keep that at the forefront of your mind, at least you’ll have a chance.”

The advice seemed a little dramatic to me, but instead of telling him so, I let it go. For the moment, we had an understanding. He would let me in on the parts of the investigation that involved me, and I would try my best not to mess up his case. It wasn’t everything I’d wanted, but it was enough for now.

When Agent Walker finally stopped pacing, he returned to his place near the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, calmer than before. Now that we’d both laid all our cards on the table, we could finally move forward.

I swallowed hard before pulling a notebook out of my bag and opening it to a page that I’d ear-marked. Once I found what I was looking for, I glanced up to see Agent Walker smiling at me again, his lips pursed together while one corner of his mouth pulled up with glee.

“What?” I asked, demanding to know what was so damn funny.

“You wrote your questions down?” he asked, not laughing though I knew he wanted to. “In a notebook? How very Nancy Drew of you.”

I squirmed as he teased me. He didn’t realize that this was what I did. I obsessed. Even though I resented having to get involved with this whole thing in the first place, once I decided to do something, I went after it with the same zeal I did everything else: seriously and single-mindedly. I didn’t do anything half-assed. Nothing ever got accomplished that way.

“I didn’t want to forget anything. How do you keep everything straight if you don’t take notes?” I challenged.

He pointed up to his forehead. “Photographic memory,” he answered.

“Fine. Whatever. Not everyone has that superpower,” I said, losing patience again. “Some of us have to write things down. Can we move on?”

Agent Walker chuckled and then nodded.

I consulted my list. It was long. Longer than I’d expected it to be when I’d first started. But once I’d begun to write, it was like I couldn’t stop. They just kept coming, some questions building off of others, while a few were so long and detailed, you’d think I were doing a research paper.

I started with the first one. The most important one.

“Are you sure you have your guy?” I asked flat out.

He flinched and then narrowed his eyes at me. It wasn’t the reaction I’d been expecting.

“Jumping straight into the deep end, are we?” he said. “You’ve got bigger balls than I thought.”

I was tired of being teased.

“You have no idea how big my balls are,” I responded, my comeback more comical than impressive. “Just tell me the truth. Are you positive it was Kyle?”

He cocked his head to the side and I heard his neck crack three times, like he was getting ready for a run—or a fight. It was intimidating, but I refused to let him know it.

“Without a doubt,” he answered. “Between the diary and the other evidence we have, it couldn’t be anyone else.”

“Then why haven’t you announced it to the public yet?” I asked. “Let everyone know that you’ve caught him? My friend Zhara said the murders have been all over the news, but there’s been no mention of the killer being taken into custody.”

“Because we’re not in the business of getting ahead of ourselves. Like I said, we’re in the middle of talking to people who might have information we can use against him. Until we’ve got an airtight case, we’ll be keeping his arrest under wraps. You should too, by the way,” he added, jutting his chin in my direction.

I hadn’t even thought about what my telling Zhara would do to the case. But in my defense, Agent Walker and his partner hadn’t said to keep quiet. And Zhara was my best friend. There wasn’t much that I kept from him and I wouldn’t be starting with something of this magnitude. I’d just have to tell Zhara not to discuss it with anyone but me and enact the Partner/Partner confidence he’d mentioned before.

“What exactly did Kyle say about me in his diary?” I asked, moving on. I wanted to know how much of it was true or made up. Whether he mentioned the other people in my life, like Zhara, or my parents. Did he ever break into my apartment? Follow me to dance class? Watch me as I undressed…

As scary as it was, I wanted all the details. I wanted to know what he thought happened between us, so I could set him straight.

“I had a feeling you were going to ask about that,” Agent Walker said, pulling some papers out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handing them to me. I unfolded them to see handwriting scrawled on the pages. There were about twenty sheets in all. “You can’t take them with you or anything—I could get in major trouble for that—but you can read them while I’m here. Let me know if the entries spark anything I should be aware of.”

I shivered. In my hands were the secret thoughts of a possible murderer. A serial killer. My stalker. I almost didn’t want to touch the pages for fear that his sickness would somehow seep into my skin and poison me, too. But the papers were only copies, black lines decorating the edges from having been Xeroxed.

“Thanks,” I said, though now that I had them, I was kind of scared to read them. “I guess I’ll read them in a little bit? Unless you want me to read them now.”

“You can read them later,” he said, shrugging. “I mean, if you have more questions to ask me.”

I nodded. “There were seventeen victims?” I asked.

“Only seventeen vics have been tied to this string of murders, yes. But Grafton’s not talking, so there could be others we don’t know about yet.”

“What did he do with the…ice pick?” I asked, my voice coming out smaller than I’d intended.

Agent Walker shot me a pained look, like he didn’t want to be the one to put the image in my head. But it was already there. Waiting in the dark recesses of my mind until it could be confirmed.

“He impaled his victims with them. Straight through both ears,” he said, with a sigh. “They were dead instantly after that.”

Jesus.

“But not before he strangled them, beat them and sexually assaulted them,” he added solemnly.

I swallowed hard to keep myself from throwing up. But I needed to push forward. Get all the details, no matter how much I didn’t really want to know.

“Isn’t that a bit…overkill?” I asked, not realizing the pun until it was already out of my mouth. Neither of us laughed. “Go on.”

He gave a slight nod. “He’d rape them first. Then move on to using a wire coat hanger to choke them. He’d use pliers to tighten it like a noose around their neck until they’d pass out. Once they were unconscious, he’d rape them again, and then revive them with blows to the knees, ankles and elbows. Sometimes they’d endure this torture for up to six hours before he finally got bored of them and brought out the ice picks. The physical stuff was bad, but the mental stuff—it was almost worse. With physical trauma, your body can go into a sort of shock where you don’t necessarily feel everything that’s happening. But the emotional stuff—the fear, the terror—that’s harder for a person to block out.”

He said all of this with an almost clinical tone. Like he was just a computer-generated voice relaying simple information. Not like he was talking about actual human beings who’d been robbed of their lives.

Everything he’d described was just so horrible, unthinkable even, that it was hard to believe there might be more. But there was. There was so much more that I didn’t want to know…yet had to know.

“What made you think Kyle was the guy?” I asked. I knew about the diary of course, and Agent Walker had mentioned having other evidence, but I didn’t know how they’d found it. What had finally given him away? Had he left evidence at one of the crime scenes? Had he been arrested for some other offense? “How did you finally catch him?”

Agent Walker went back to pacing the room. He seemed almost uncomfortable. I waited quietly as I watched him walk a boxy figure eight. Finally he spoke.

“I wish I could say it was good detective work, but catching these guys is sometimes a bit of a fluke,” Agent Walker said, scratching his head absently. This didn’t make me feel better. “About a week ago, there was a brush fire up in a nearby mountain range. As emergency responders attempted to evacuate houses in the vicinity, they stumbled on a cabin that fit the description of the suspect’s kill house.”

I was confused. “It fit the description?” I asked. The blood seemed to drain out of my body as I realized what this meant. I looked down at the floor to steady myself, because it was suddenly spinning. “In order to have a description of the place, there’d have to be…a witness.”

The office grew silent as I took this in. When I dared to look up again, Agent Walker was watching me closely. By the look on his face, I knew I was right.

“One of Kyle’s victims survived.”