Part 5: Another Victim

I look out the window of the cafeteria. It feels calming to see raindrops falling down the glass. Everyone seems to be busy walking down the street. And here I am, sitting across someone I genuinely dislike, trying to avoid his gaze every now and again. 

"We should start." Clayton sighed. "It's been thirty minutes, Samara. The rain wouldn't go anywhere." 

Now a bit embarrassed of the immaturity I've been showing him, I turn to look at him back and finally open the folder that's lying down the table this whole time. 

"Fine." I said. "I'm sorry." 

He took out a pen from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to me. 

"So this murderer," he began. "His main targets are usually those who live in secluded houses---where neighbors are practically nonexistent." 

I nodded. "Yeah. And... it says here," I flipped a few more pages. "He's killed five victims so far. No clear signs of motive." 

It's been a week since Officer Rankin gave me no other choice but to take Clayton Jones as my partner. He and I needed to finish our minor cases last week so we could finally focus on this one. And I must say, handling something like this somehow intimidates me. 

This is my first time to handle such case. And Clayton's been doing it since his career began taking off. So as much as I hate to admit it, he knows better than I am in this position. 

But I'll make sure to work hard and show to everyone at The Detective Tag firm that I'm capable. That's the only goal, after all. 

"This is what we're going to do," He turns to his back to get something from his backpack. "Visit all the places where past victims were killed. The police are still guarding the houses. No objects were touched or used after the murders happened..." 

Clayton's voice seems to suddenly fade out as I find myself staring at him. I was once told by Dad that you can tell someone about how passionate they are about their job if they speak straightforwardly about it. He's the epitome of my father's belief. 

He keeps talking and talking. I can barely catch up the words that are coming out of his mouth. I only notice how veiny and pale looking his arms are as I watch him write down the specific details he sees on the folder. 

"Hey." His finger snaps in front of me. "Are you listening?" 

I rub my eyes to take my mind off the fact that I've probably been staring at him this whole time. I gave him a slight nod. 

"And when exactly do we start?" I asked, now focused. 

"We'll start tomorrow, if you're up for it." he said as he keep writing something down. 

I nodded and didn't say anything more. 

- 

As soon as I got home, the first thing that went to me is to take a quick shower and sleep. But as much as I am tempted to do just that, I figured that I can't. 

There's so much to do that I haven't fully done yet. And one of them is studying the case thoroughly. I only scanned it this morning with Clayton but I never really get to know so much about it. 

As I put my pajamas on, I got on the bed and open the folder we've discussed about earlier. 

Apparently, as it states here, the murderer already killed five people. And if one is to trace back the similarities with all those victims he killed, they all lived alone. Alone in their own houses where no one would usually pass by. 

Of course, one can just say that the murderer does that to avoid any witness for the crimes he committed. He's a bit clever with that. 

But what I don't understand is his motive. He can't just kill five people for fun. And as much as the other detectives know, these victims did nothing to him. So there's no sign of revenge coming from the killer. He's never even met these people he stabbed repeatedly to death. 

There's just no way that they were killed for nothing. There has to be some sort of a rationale behind the killings. 

- 

I got a text from Officer Douglas as I lay down the printed information and pictures of the murders on the small desk of my bedroom. 

He says that we should do everything low-key. The media, photographers, reporters, and paparazzi are usually hungry for cases such as this. I'm not going to let them meddle with what we're working on now. 

Especially because this is my first case and I can't afford to fail it. 

I've always thought that this is my first chance to make my father proud. I know that he's retired and living his best life in Switzerland. But I want to show him that I could be as good as he was during his prime years. 

And though we only talk during the weekends, he knows just how much I miss him. Yet no amount of video calls and surprise texts would make me miss him less. It's always different when he's here. 

I almost drop my cup of coffee as my phone rings on my pillow. I took a quick sip and run towards it before the call ends. 

It's an unknown number. 

"Detective Culkin speaking," I put the phone to my ear as I walk back to my desk. 

"Hey," 

My eyebrow raised when I hear a familiar voice from the other line. 

"Who's this?" 

There was a period of silence. I can hear him arranging some sort of papers and scribbling away. I took another sip as I wait for the voice to reply. 

"This is Clayton." 

I accidentally spit a bit amount of coffee on the floor, while my eyes remain completely wide open. 

"Is that The Beatles?" he asked. 

As quick as I can, I run towards my vinyl player and shut the music off. It pains me to stop Revolver from playing but this Clayton guy just can't stop bothering the life out of me. 

"Why are you calling?" I asked. 

"You could've played Taxman," 

Annoyed and surprised as I can be, I took a deep breath and look around the walls of my room. I didn't know anyone would listen to the Fab Four like I do. I formed a half smile. 

"No," I replied, firmly. "Is there anything I can help you with?" 

I return to my desk and swiftly grab a tissue to wipe the drops of coffee on the floor. 

"You need to get to this address I'm about to text you," he said. 

"What?" I asked, now standing up. "What's going on?" 

"Another victim was killed. Officials believe it was the same killer." He breathes heavily. "It'll be a two-hour drive, at most. Can you get here?" 

"What? Wait... At this time?" 

"Yeah," he said. "While the evidences are still fresh. There's police everywhere. I'm writing down details." 

I run towards my closet to check if there's any outfit that I can wear right away. Suddenly, I can hear my heart pounding faster than ever. 

"Can you make it?" Clayton asked. 

I've never been called in for an investigation at this time of night. Nor have I ever experienced being needed for something I can do. This should be the challenge I've been craving for from the very start. 

And another way for me and Clayton to easily track the killer and get this over with. 

"Yeah," I replied. "I'll be there."