Page 9

Chapter 8

Eve

Eve was busy spreading her favourite cream on her legs, savouring the familiar ritual and the lavender smell, only to have her peaceful moment disturbed by the ring of her phone. With a mixture of annoyance and excitement she read the name on the screen. Cyrus.

She sighed, twisting her lips into a conflicted grimace, playing the game of seduction while hiding her passion for murder would be a bit tricky to handle. But to her demise, there was something in Cyrus that drew her in. “You mean besides his biceps and that tight little ass?” she spoke to herself; the man was for sure a treat for the eyes. Not to mention how agile his fingers were.

She grabbed the phone quickly before it stopped ringing, no way she would call him back on her own.

“Allo?” she tried to answer in a detached voice.

“Hello my beautiful Goddess.” Cyrus’s voice resonated in the phone. “I'm taking you to the Opera in two weeks, next Saturday. Book your evening.”

Eve rolled her eyes, she wasn't sure if she should feel flattered that Cyrus wanted to see her again, or worried. But the thought of his hands on her body… And weirdly enough, the evening had been quite pleasant. Her mind quickly went to Erik, and how much trouble she could be creating for both of them.

“Hello? Did I lose you?” the deep voice interrupted her hesitation.

“No no, I was thinking,” Eve replied, gathering her thoughts. “And perhaps, you know, expecting some kind of politeness, like basics stuff, ‘how are you?’ ‘please?’ ‘thank you Goddess of my heart.’ You know Cyrus, the kind of words civilised people say on the phone when inviting someone.”

She had to move the phone away from her ear when Cyrus's thunderous laughter echoed in her now-deaf ear.

At least he thinks I'm funny.

“Darling, sorry, I’m used to getting what I want… So? Opera? Saturday night, next week?”

She laughed slightly; Cyrus was Cyrus after all.

“Which one?” She did love Opera, and who didn’t love the beautiful dress and the occasion to get out of the house for something other than murders.

“The Traviata. That’s…”

“I know what it is. Unfortunately for you, I'm not as stupid as your usual conquests.”

Cyrus laughed again. “You mean luckily for me.”

Eve blushed like an enamoured teenager, and she glanced at her reflection in the mirror witnessing it, the shame of the girly-girl-oh-my-god-he-is-so-hot. Her cheeks were red and glowing under the light, this was not good at all. But the Traviata had always held a special place in her heart, God knows why, because it was rather depressing.

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Just a detail.” There was mischief in his voice.

“Yes?” Eve had come to expect the worst when it came to Cyrus.

“Even though I loved your outfit from the other night, I don't think my sanity can handle a second date with you dressed like that. Try something less seductive… unless of course you enjoyed our sweet moment at the restaurant… and in the lift. And outside.”

Man he was good, here she was again, on fire, the bare memories of his fingers teasing her were just enough to light her.

“Well, I'll take out my pyjamas and unicorn slippers.”

“Perfect, we will make the pages of the magazines I'm sure,” Cyrus laughed.

“I’d rather not.” The last thing she needed was her picture in the tabloids. He laughed again, causing Eve to raise her voice to be heard over him.

“I will see you then Cyrus, properly dressed and all, have a good day. Don't come and annoy me at the station.” She hung up before he had time to say anything, hoping her tone would be enough to convince the man not to come by.

A frustrated groan emerged from her throat; she was already regretting her decision to give in to temptation. Showing up with Cyrus was not the brightest idea of the century, maybe not even of the year, but it was so difficult to resist him.

Not to mention he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway, soooo she may as well deal with it, right?

Eve’s thought drifted towards the serial killer wreaking havoc in Dublin. Not herself, the psychopath. The one killing innocent women. Eve had never considered herself a psychopath and she never killed women.

She was now pretty certain Cyrus had nothing to do with the killer. She could feel it from the beginning, but just in case, had kept a little doubt in her, after all one can never be too careful.

Maybe she should give up her own nocturnal activities for a while, let the police search for the killer and forget about her pieces of art. Her Guild wanted her to lie low for a while anyway, still growling at her about “discretion.” The Guild had learned about the slashed penis, and was not happy about it. Even if there were no witnesses.

“Discretion blehblebleh,” Eve mumbled, finishing her beauty ritual while cursing her Guild and their boring rules. That’s when it hit her. She stopped breathing, straightening herself she talked to her reflection.

“Oooor, even better, maybe I should try to find the psychopath first.” She laughed with excitement, standing up, after all he was the pinnacle of what she was fighting. And with Cyrus’s help and means she could surely find him faster. Eve placed the pot of cream down and grimaced, it wasn't her favourite solution, but this guy had to be stopped. Sighing, she stretched her legs, their once bronzed complexion now faded to blend in with Ireland, and made her way to her computer, determined to investigate.

The sound of an incoming message on her phone stopped her. She sighed, certain it was Cyrus, either saying something naughty, or better, sending some naughty pics. Catching her annoying device nonchalantly, her face froze as she read the message from the giant .

“Btw, there was another murder, I’m sure you’re gonna get busy at work so if you feel like you need to release some tension…?? I’m your man.”

First, how amazing was it that someone like Cyrus used emojis? Second, for fuck’s sake, another murder? He didn’t need to give details, she guessed it was a murder from the psychopath, the only thing she could hope was that this time her colleagues would get some clues. And let’s be crazy, maybe the acknowledgement from their superior about the whole serial killer situation.

The thought of Cyrus knowing before her was disturbing, especially seeing he was still kind of the prime suspect. But then from what she understood, he was also responsible for many secret pay-checks in the department.

It was with a fearless and decided step that Eve entered the police station the next morning. It was only mid-week but the last few days had become somewhat irritable and rumours at the station were running wild about Cyrus’s possible involvement. Eve didn’t really care about those rumours though.

Cyrus was big enough to take care of those accusations himself, as long as they didn’t interfere in her nocturnal activities. Including her possible future date with the Golden Boy.

Upon entering the main room, she felt cold, hair on her arm spiking. Something’s going on for sure. She had hoped the new murder was something entirely new, mostly because she hated when Cyrus was right, and that he knew before her. She spotted Erik, Andy, Bonnie, and Mark, who was eyeing her bottom as often as he could. They stopped the conversation as she approached and she raised an interrogative eyebrow towards Erik without a word. Erik put his hand over his face, she knew this gesture having seen it unfortunately twice already, and she knew what it preceded.

“There was another murder.” Eric’s usual happy wrinkles at the corner of his eyes were not showing today, and for one second Eve found him old.

“Obviously.” She shook her head.

At the suspicious glances and questioning eyes, she reacted fast. “I mean, just look at your faces.”

Erik coughed and raised his voice to address the whole team on the floor. “Everyone in the meeting room now!”

Everyone grabbed notepads and coffee before heading for the meeting room. Eve settled in her favourite corner, the one where she could look at everyone and watch the front door, habit. She crossed her legs, adjusted her skirt, and got ready to take notes for her future minute report.

Erik started. “It's official, we have a third murder on our backs.”

Angry murmurs ran through the room, before the boss could put a stop to it.

“I know, I know,” he calmed in a loud voice, his hands in the air as if he was taming a wild animal. “But good news is we finally have permission from our gentlemen superiors to open a special investigation for this serial killer.”

Murmurs of approval replaced the growls, many nodding. Bonnie especially had closed her eyes, a smile so faint on her lips you could barely guess it was there.

Erik turned to his computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He clicked a few buttons, way too slowly for Eve’s taste, and the photos of the new body materialised on the white screen in front of the group. As the images appeared, a mixture of reactions spread throughout the room. Some turned their heads away, unable to watch, while others casted their looks towards their notepads. Eve, however, always confronted the brutality, forcing herself to look, reminding herself why she had chosen her particular hobby.

“The body was discovered yesterday evening by a bunch of kids, hidden amidst the garbage cans, two streets away from the previous one.” Erik clicked another button scrolling through the horrors on the screen.

“The victim has been identified as 30-year-old Emily Stones, barmaid.”

What looked like a recent photograph of Emily appeared, captivating the room. A beautiful woman, a delicate face, her raven dark hair was almost as long as Eves and a little wavy, and topping it all off, hypnotising green eyes. Eve felt the anger in her rising. One more victim to the madness of men. It reaffirmed her decisi on to involve herself in this shit one way or another. The guy was like her, he was enjoying it, and he would never stop.

“Irishtown,” someone whispered, enticing more murmurs throughout the room. Cyrus’s neighbourhood. Eve grimaced.

Johnny, the fish looking guy scoffed. “The killer must be living in the neighbourhood huh?”

To Eve’s great pleasure, Erik held back a sigh. “Not especially, he may well have chosen a place he knows without necessarily living there.”

“Or just because it's convenient,” Eve added, thinking out loud while clicking on her pen too many times. Heads turned. She sure hoped she didn’t look like a deer in headlights right now, eyes wide open, frozen.

“Proximity to his workplace, or to some warehouse or garage he has access to. A place where he can keep them alive… you know, for a few days.” She shrugged.

The weight of the looks on her made her panic a tiny bit more. “I happen to live in this neighbourhood and the small alleys are so dark they are perfect to dispose of a body.”

Silence.

“Not that I know anything about dropping bodies in the wild,” she hastily added with a smile she hoped looked innocent.

The policemen exchanged glances, and Eve rolled her eyes feigning nonchalance, pretending to return to her notes.

Eric cleared his throat. “Thank you, Eve, for the intervention,” he said, giving her big eyes. Turning, he addressed the room. “Andy and Bonnie, you're in charge. Take all the files we have and METICULOUSLY review all of them.”

The Duo nodded.

“Joy, and Isabelle, you've already worked on some of these murders so you're part of the team. A closed knit team. Hear my emphasis on the closed here? I'm already going to have the press on my back so let's give them nothing but the bare minimum. No leaks. No talking about the case outside of this station. Clear?”

A few nods of approval followed, enticing Eric to continue.

“Mark, I know you’re on the Saviour, but if the team needs you, you’re on call.”

Mark grumbled but didn’t dare protest out loud.

Eri k continued. “Our primary focus is to find a common point between our victims. We need to know how the hell he picks them.”

He sighed. “Eve, I would like you to contact Ian Rocfield”

Eve’s eyes widened.

“He’s the only profiler in Ireland, we need him. Thankfully he’s good at it.” Before Eve could say what she thought about this, terrible, terrible, terrible, idea Andy spoke up.

“Erik? Seriously? Ian? We’re gonna have freaking McRory on our backs already, we don’t need his best friend hanging out around here.” A few murmurs of agreement ran through the room but were quickly silenced by Erik’s firm voice.

“There is no discussion to have, we are running around like headless chickens. We NEED this profile, we need someone with new eyes.” He sighed, this particular point was going to be tough. “Besides, I have worked with Ian in the past, before the war. He is pretty good at separating his work and his… attachment to Cyrus.”

Eve pulled a face, even though Ian seemed quite serious compared to, well, Cyrus, she didn’t see how he could stop the giant reading through all the files. But maybe he had more will than she did to resist the Golden Boy’s charms.

Erik continued. “Room number 3 on my floor, only the people whose names I just mentioned are allowed access. Clear? If necessary, we will extend the team.”

Nobody said a word, but everyone knew. They’ll expand the team once another murder or two was committed.

Eric paused. “I know you are all worried about Cyrus sniffing around. I am asking you to please trust me, I will have a talk with Ian myself.”

He was more talking to himself than the room when he muttered, “I’m gonna try to distract Cyrus on the Saviour instead… keep him busy…”.

Erik stopped his look turning to Eve and she could not stop the blush reaching her cheeks, quickly burring her head in her notes. Having Cyrus on her back was the last of her wishes. Having him on his back though, ideally naked while she could mount him, now that was another story.

“ Please make sure you don't leave anything lying around, you all know Cyrus,” he sighed. Some nodded, others grumbled, Andy whispered “sneaky son of a bitch.”

Eve nodded lost in her thoughts of a naked Cyrus answering all of her desires. His body pushing her against a wall, his fingers rising dangerously towards her warm entrance… She bit her lip, trying to focus.

“We know very well he will get his hands on information, so we have to be careful. Especially if you see Zorfield hanging around, that one is a freaking sneaky one. Let’s not put our killer in Cyrus's hands.” Erik levelled them all with a glare.

Mark grumbled. “For once I'll agree to let him do it.” Murmurs of approval rose in the room.

Erik shook his head. “We represent justice, we cannot afford to let him do his own justice. Clear?”

Eve laughed internally. Erik really loves the word “Clear?”

Johnny, the pervert fish, rose his hand to speak. “But chief, should we not investigate Cyrus? After all, the murders were in his neighbourhood, weren't they? Commander Cragnum wanted us to look into it.”

A few laughs emanated in the room as Eve’s disgust for the pervert fish deepened, perhaps because his gaze on her had thickened, he just did the irreparable, already replacing Erik as Commander.

“After all, he knew the first two,” Johnny continued. “I bet you he knew this one too, he has the means to attract these women, not to mention enough power to silence us. That’s all I’m saying.”

That was the most ridiculous theory Eve had ever heard. Not only was Johnny ugly, but he was stupid as well. No wonder he was jealous of her Cyrus.

Erik held out his hand. “The women were abducted from their homes, with evidence of them putting up a fight.”

“Do you know many women who would resist Cyrus Fucking McRory?” Andy looked to Johnny and Eve realised in that moment he had no fondness for Johnny either. She made a mental note to ask Bonnie about the reason why Andy was so anti-Cyrus.

“Interesting theory Johnny ” Erik said.

“Or not,” Eve muttered, starting to scribble a grouper amid her notes.

“But having known Cyrus since birth, I can assure you he is many things, but certainly not a rapist, or a murderer… Of women.” He cleared his throat, everyone knew the McRory son didn’t mind a kill or two from time to time, he was a gang leader after all. “Keep an open mind, yes, check his alibis, check his… acquaintances of those women, but I would rather us not lose our time on him.”

Not a rapist, good to know . Though she kind of knew that already.

As the officers prepared to leave, Erik spoke. “By the way, don’t forget we have the Gala this Saturday.”

Grumbles and protests erupted from various corners of the room, this time getting everyone to agree.

Erik raised his hand to stop the movement. “I know, I know! But it would be appreciated if most of you could attend, and be on your best behaviour, and absolutely no getting drunk!”

A moment of silence followed, broken once more by Erik. “Clear?”

Eve had completely forgotten about the Gala. She realised with anticipation she would need to buy a new dress. The sexy one she was planning to buy for her date with Cyrus to the Opera might be a bit too revealing for a charity event.