"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. My only question is: how did you know?" he inquired, not an etch of concern written on his face. Circling her in the same manner, he allowed her to speak.
"Of course, sir, I question my theory then I remember something. Something I had heard a long time ago back in grade school."
"What was that, dumplin'?"
"There was this handsome 28-year-old that would play basketball with the juniors and seniors at the middle school's basketball court. Every time, when I had to cut through that court, they would send jeers in my direction and cat-called at me. The one I remember the most is that the 28-year-old called me was dumplin'. His reason being? 'I looked soft and squishy.' His friends and teammates called him 'D-man' or 'D.M.', which stood for a name I had forgotten until now. One day, he got into a fight with one of the guys there that said that he was going to do 'freaky things with me tomorrow', those things involving making me do things he knew a girl like me wouldn't do. D.M. was so beast-like that he earned himself a new nickname: 'Wolf Man'. Although he nearly killed the kid, he was let off in the manner of self-defense or 'defending the weak' as the case put it. I barely remember what made him so handsome, but I do remember those cold eyes watching a pair of hands burrow themselves deeper and deeper into that guy's chest, stomach, and skull. And that smile. That same, empty, manipulating smile he had is the same one that you have now," she said, her voice cracking toward the end.
"Hm," he hummed. "What was the name of that man you had forgotten 'till now?" he said, stopping behind her.
In fear, she couldn't turn or she wasn't going to keep her life, she responded, legs shaking, " David. David Miranda."
"Hm." he hummed again, not moving for him to see her face. Her legs shook so much, she thought that the people that lived below could hear their roof vibrating. "What evidence do you have pointing towards me?" he whispered in her ear, grabbing her waist to steady her as he could see her nearly collapsing in fear.
"N-none y-y-yet. But I will eventually!" she said, gathering her courage and turning to face him. However, she lost balance and fell backward. Trying to steady herself, she looped her right leg around his waist, pulling him forward and stopping herself. Then she felt it.
Unhooking her leg and attempting to move, he let her go and turned to the side. "Sor-"
"Don't bother," she interjected disgustedly. "We are at a crime scene where someone decided to play surgical malpractice and you have that?"
"Sorry, the thought of how she screamed made me… you know… And then, you were scared so it got worse..."
"That is embarrassing as hell. Why- You know what, I won't ask."
"Yeah, don't," he said, walking to the door. "Follow me."
"Of course, sir," she said, drawing out sir in a way that made David whimper internally. She wouldn't be being a smart ass when I fuck her throat raw, now will she? he thought as he opened the kitchen door and led her to the bedroom down the hall from the kitchen. Pointing to the crumpled bedsheets, he smiled and winked. She grimaced. Picking up the camera on her hip, she snapped a few pictures and, with purple-latex gloved fingers, pulled back the sheet. Clear-ish stains splattered here and there and the tell-tale triangular-shaped cluster of blood.
"Well-"
"Shush," she said, trying to concentrate on the images. It clicked. "It wasn't you."
"Ca-ching! You've won yourself a raise! How could you tell?" he said, clasping his hands together in excitement. I like her. She's quick even without a push, he thought, wagging his imaginary tail.
"Your style of artwork leaves the victim in multiple pieces and having several deep bite marks on the collarbone. No bite marks and the body is still intact," she said while looking at the picture she got earlier and from previous victims. "You've got an admirer, pendejo."
"¿Qué te hace pensar que?"
"Can you stop asking that question? I think that because they keep signing your name. They just don't have the stomach to chop their victims to pieces. And don't do it-"
"Neither does that woman. I guess both the perpetrator and the victim are… gutless," he joked, earning himself a death glare. "What? It's funny!"
"No, it's not. I'll go get these pictures over to the rest of the on-site forensics team and will tell you by Wednesday who our suspects are-"
"Yours not included."
"Mine included."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"You're stubborn, aren't you?"
"I'm not stubborn, just cautious. Remember, you tell anyone anything you know," he started, grabbing her wrist and squeezing tightly, "I will make sure that that is your body hanging up next. Got that?" Emilia felt fear creep up her spine again as she saw those cold eyes gaze upon her so promisingly.
"Yes sir-" the grip on her wrist became tighter. "Yeah. I got it."
"Thank you," he said, losing that sociopathic smile and replacing it with an angry look. The heat radiating from those eyes left Emilia feeling funny like she was burning but she liked the burn. Shaking her head, she followed him out of the room so she could give Gonzolez the camera.