~~Carson's POV~~
"Another serial killer?" Sawyer asked, thinking aloud.
We were in the middle of analysis, our investigation board stuffed with new details about the most recent death in I.U.C. For the past forever, we'd been trying to piece THIS puzzle together, but it was anything but easy. Nothing about this one fits with the others.
A different M.O.
No traumatized female survivor.
No writing on the wall.
Was there really another serial killer on the loose?
"Death by strangulation. Bashed forehead on the mirror." … "A grown-ass man found almost dead in the bathtub. No bloody inscription on the wall." Their voices swirled in my head but I was more preoccupied with my thoughts, peering at the board while desperately trying to look for connections. Accepting there was another serial killer would be a little… too much.
"There must be a clue somewhere…" I mused, stressing in undertones while impulsively advancing toward the board. I then picked a marker and used it to write "Two stab wounds" separated from "Death by strangulation" by a hyphen.
"Two stab wounds?" Griffin echoed.
I nodded absentmindedly, still studying the board with squinted eyes.
"Another serial killer?" came Sawyer's voice from the other side, beside me.
"No," I mused aloud.
"Then how do you explain this?"
"He lost his knife," I deduced low-pitched before supriseful exclamations from both sides made me relisten to myself. That sounded absurd but was plausible thanks to the insane theory that just bloomed in my head.
I swayed my head sideways to hold their stares brimming with questions.
"Two stab wounds," I started, using the marker as a pointer to take them through the journey around the board. "He stabbed her twice in the abdomen, business as usual. Unfortunately for him, she had a guy in her room. Her boyfriend perhaps. He obviously was trying to stop him and a fight broke out. Considering the bruises all over his face, it wasn't as easy but this psycho managed to tame him and dumped his body in the bathtub," I explained slowly, mostly to myself as though I was just pouring out my thoughts.
"After successfully subduing him, he went back to complete what he came for – killing off his target. But thanks to the power tussle, he lost his knife but didn't give up and decided to strangle her instead. The forehead bashing was probably to relish her getting killed by watching her suffer in the mirror," I concluded, inducing a pregnant pause that I used to think of possible answers to questions they could ask. I wasn't even one hundred percent certain. Could probably have just been me refusing to accept it wasn't Daniil this time.
"Is he losing his touch?" was Griffin's first question.
'I know, right?' For someone whose signature was a flawless murder, this was quite sloppy.
"My hunch tells me he didn't know there was a guy in her room," I said.
"Is it possible he expected someone else to be there at that time?" Sawyer asked, leading me to my next theory.
"Bingo!" I affirmed, snapping my fingers at him. "We need to find out who."
"It's very possible he also tried to scare the shit outta her," Sawyer deduced. "She could also provide us with details we can use to know how he operates."
"And the knife?" Griffin posed, calling my attention.
The look in his eyes suggested a different reason other than him merely asking to feed his curiosity. "We have to find it as well," I answered expectantly.
"And if he has it already?" Griffin asked.
I pinched my view scrutinizingly, a newfound fear kicking in. A day had passed, giving him ample opportunity to alter the crime scene. If he did, that'd be bad news for us especially because finding the knife could get us closer to the end of this horrendous tunnel.
"Can I see the list of evidence collected?" I asked rather, eating the food for thought he served.
"Umm… sure?" said Griffin, hesitation dragging his reply before going ahead to bring it. "Here you go," he said, handing me the slate.
Skimming through, there wasn't any knife found. I felt a tinge of relief mixed with anxiety, subconsciously hoping that if we revisited the scene, we'd find it there. But what if we didn't?
"The guy had no stab wounds," I mentioned, referring to the "survivor" barely hanging on for his life in the hospital, probably in the theater by now. "This killer definitely lost his knife," I stated, the conviction in my tone growing.
"And we need to get it before he does," I added solemnly.
• • •
"Mmm .." Vaulting up the stairs, a rash shoulder brush with a strange hooded figure alighting at the same time, pushed a slight groan out of my throat. I paused, leaning by the rail while staring at the strange folk who wouldn't even bother to stop and apologize.
"Carson?" Griffin's voice snapped me back to reality, calling my attention to my colleagues already at the landing. I was ahead of them and now they ran past without my notice.
"Are you okay?"
I shrugged. I had an urgent search to carry out, and besides we had limited time considering it was a school environment. Obviously not the time to start sulking over some jerk with no manners.
'He looked familiar,' my inner voice noted when I was back with the lot, on our way to the student's room – the crime scene.
Quite a mess in there, I must say. But right now I was grateful that the cleanup team were lagging, leaving the scene untampered.
Gearing up with our gloves and masks, we began rummaging through her things. Our aim was to find the knife but whatever could serve as clues would be plenty.
The chairs and tables were jumbled all over, the bloody mirror was still there, untouched, and a couple of other stuff displaced all around her living room.
I left this area to my colleagues and headed to the bathroom instead. For some reason, my interest was latched to that place.
The bright red color blared through the moment I stepped in, the bloody tiles and handprints around the tub filling the atmosphere.
I made to scour through the scene, rummaging through the cupboards and drawers, tossing the towels and toiletries aside, and stuffing the air with clatters, to give me ample room.
I was about to search the toilet tank when …
"Captain!" Sawyer hailed, bursting through the entrance behind me.
I returned the lid and then turned around to him.
"Look what I found," he said, extending what looked like a photograph to me.
I didn't respond immediately, taking only the second needed to confirm it was indeed a photograph before swiftly crossing our distance and retrieving it from him.
It was a studio-taken photo consisting of five girls, the aura oozing friendship amongst them.
But that wasn't the concern that formed thick writhes on my forehead.
"Isn't that Makayla?" asked my company after perusing in silence for a few seconds.
Yes, it was. From the left were Makayla Palmer, Anna Donovan, Louisiana Reggie – the girl recently murdered – and two other girls, of which one looked unusually familiar.
I could already deduce what the murdered shared in common now. My silence was a result of surfing through my memories for the fourth girl in this picture.
Sucking my teeth, 'I could have sworn I've somewhere,' I mumbled inwardly.
"Isn't this the connection we've all been looking for? We can narrow our investigation to these five and see what we can get. I think we should also call Knox – " I raised my eyes sharply to him. Until now, I only let his voice float, engulfed in the trip around my head for the girl's memory.
"Is there a problem?" he asked, unsure of the reason I stared so intently at him.
Knox was the trigger. I was searching for answers, getting lost in his view because I felt I could remember something if I tried a little harder.
"That's it!" I exclaimed out of the blue, snapping my fingers. I finally recalled.
She was the same lady in the clip Knox sent to me on the night Daniil took Ashley out for a date.
Roping Sawyer with confusion, I dashed out in urgency.
"Did you see the pho – "
"Don't bother waiting for me when you guys are done," I cut Griffin off on my way out, my strides never slowing down. "I'll explain everything once I get back," I concluded, dashing out of the room.
Out of earshot, now approaching the stairs, I hastily dialed Ashley's number.
It only took two steps down before the call tone got swallowed by her smooth, silky yet dull voice.
"Carson, I want to – "
"I also am on my way to you. Let's meet at the cafeteria," I rushed to say my mind.
Hanging up, I took a different route contrary to the message I just passed. I was gonna breeze in and out of her class while she waited in the cafeteria.
The bastard who brushed shoulders with me earlier was Daniil.