Page 36 of Vengeance of Childhood Proportions (Till Death Do Us Part #7)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Mal

It was official: there was a serial killer in Atelihai Valley.

I was standing over the third body in three weeks.

Missing person reports were also starting to come in from family members of people who had grown up in Atelihai Valley.

Carr was calling an official meeting this afternoon and Mira was pushing for me to lead the task force.

Her continued insistence as we stood over yet another DB had pissed me off so much that I had sent her off on crowd control just to get her away from me.

No agent, regardless of career ambitions, should be happy while standing over a corpse, just because it might cause them to be the second lead on a serial killer task force.

I hated the term ‘serial killer’. It had been monopolized by the media and Hollywood so much that it brought out excitement instead of horror. Someone had died today. Three someones had been found dead, though based on the missing persons reports it was likely that more were about to be.

In the 1970s, it was estimated that there were over three hundred active serial killers in the United States.

Today, that number was around fifty. Documentaries about killers and the psychology behind what drove them made everyone and their brother believe they were an expert on serial killers.

Additionally, fictional crime shows and movies ‘based on true events’ gave false expectations or data about how the FBI and local police handled serial cases.

As soon as the term ‘serial killer’ is said, all the bloggers, influencers, and news stations started lining up without any respect for law enforcement or the deceased.

There was a reason law enforcement referred to them as ‘roaches’; they just keep popping up.

I’ve already had to push the perimeter back three times, though the third time was really to give Mira something to do that wasn’t near me. Two birds, one stone and all that.

Fuck, it had started out as such a good morning.

My little owl and I had met up last night for the fifth time in a row.

After a very long discussion on hard and soft limits that I had Valentino sit in on so we didn’t get distracted again, I was even more confident in my decision that my little owl was a pure submissive craving a guiding hand.

I had every intention of being that hand.

We gave ourselves two weeks to continue to learn about the other while meeting exclusively at the club before we would have a talk about a contract and moving outside the monitored safety of the club.

She was practicing the positions I had shown her—including the fifth one that I had unintentionally skipped over in my eagerness to get back inside her.

We were still using the scrunchies, though Master David had suggested hot stones since they had more weight to them.

There was a lot about my little owl that was different.

For instance, I learned during our discussion that Valentino witnessed that the oral sex we’d had the night before was her first experience as a recipient.

My mind, and my tongue, were having a hard time grasping that. What fools men were to let such a wondrously sensual creature pass by unnoticed without worshiping the very ground she walked on. I would not be so foolish.

My little owl had given blowjobs before but wasn’t well practiced. A very dangerous and primal part of me was grateful for that. I’d never been a jealous man before, but I was learning very quickly that I was when it came to her.

Last night, after she’d danced for me, which was becoming my favorite activity outside of actually being inside her, I had her hold a pipe behind her back with both hands while she sucked my cock.

I drew it out as long as I could, showing her what I liked, where I was sensitive, how I liked just a bite of pain with the slightest scrape of her teeth…

All while she held the pipe to keep her hands from me.

My little owl on her knees with my cock in her mouth was one of the fucking hottest things I’d ever seen in my life.

Since we’d gone over hard and soft limits, I knew she allowed pictures and videos, for my eyes only.

So I’d called the club’s photographer to come in while my little owl was sucking me to get some pictures from my point of view.

Master Kade had met me at the club as I’d requested.

While the man was still just as much of an asshole as me, I felt we’d come to an understanding.

He’d acted as protector for my little owl, whom he referred to as ‘Dani’, for years.

I did not ask, nor did he offer, the details about what had happened to her.

I wanted my little owl to tell me when she was ready.

I was appreciative for all Master Kade had done for her, but I also made it clear that I was her protector now.

He just shrugged and wished me luck. I knew the two were living together, so it wasn’t like he was washing his hands of her, but I still found the way he acted odd. Like he found it amusing that I thought what my little owl and I were growing could one day be permanent.

Since exchanging numbers, I’d woken up each morning with a picture of any body part she desired as well as an affirmation. I let her choose what she wanted to say, though I did give her a variety of examples. So far her three messages have been:

Little Owl: I am beautiful, I am strong, and I am submissive.

Little Owl: I will strive to serve Sir to the best of my abilities and no more.

Little Owl: Kneeling is a gift I give willingly to Sir.

The last one from this morning was my favorite, and not just because it was accompanied by a picture of her nipple pinched between a clothespin.

Now I was standing over a John Doe who was surrounded by taxidermied dogs and staged to look like he was being attacked.

The one good thing about Carr creating a task force would be the additional funding, manpower, and resources. It was just unfortunate that it took three people to die.

Dr. Robinson was bent over the body, doing his thing, while I studied our surroundings. We were in a dog park. It was public, easy access, and had limited lighting. As in, the perfect place to stage a body to look like the victim was being attacked by dogs.

Whistling, I got Mira’s attention. She came running back.

“Pull up the report on Christopher Harrow,” I ordered without looking at her. The dogs meant something, clearly.

She got out her tablet and scrolled through a moment before asking, “What is it you’re looking for?”

“Dr. Robinson concluded that the bites on his body were made from a non-poisonous tarantula, correct?”

“Goliath bird eaters, yes.”

“What about Amber Jamison?” She was the second victim; the one found in the back of the police cruiser. “Any animal bites?”

She pulled up the next report, tapping on the screen. “No. Just,” Mira made a face, “a lot of damage, like she was being cooked alive before her throat was slit.”

“There’s only an animal connection with the male victims then,” I concluded.

“’fraid not,” Dr. Robinson said as he stood up. His old knees cracked and he stretched his back with a groan. “This man did not die by dog, nor does he have any bites on him.”

“Then what’s with the dogs?” Mira asked.

“That’s your job, Agent Barnes,” Dr. Robinson told her sternly, “not mine.”

At least Mira had the good grace to blush. I got his attention back. “No bite marks at all?”

“I’d have to get him on my table to know for certain, but no. I can tell you he was tortured, though. Rope burns on both wrists and one ankle.”

“One ankle?” I asked.

Dr. Robinson nodded his head in confirmation. “We’ll get him on my table as soon as possible. All I can tell you for now is an estimate that he died between ten to twelve hours ago.”

I glanced at my watch, noting that there was a possibility that John Doe was being murdered while my little owl was sucking my cock.

I might be an asshole for that thought, but at least I had the sensitivity to keep my mouth shut about it. Unlike my partner, who was really starting to get on my nerves ever since we’d missed that morning meeting due to her ex.

“SSA Carr is in the process of setting up a task force,” she informed Dr. Robinson with far too much zeal. “You’ll have additional support and our John Doe will move to the top of your caseload.”

Dr. Robinson looked over the rim of his glasses at Mira.

“I am aware of the procedures, young lady. A word of advice, if you hope to advance in this field, grow some tact—or at least fake it better. None of your superiors want to see their special agents smiling feet away from a dead body.” He gestured to the perimeter with tens of cameras pointed directly at us.

The coroner nodded to me, to which I nodded back, before walking off.

Mira was still frowning as we got into the car minutes later. At least she kept her mouth shut until we were out of earshot of everyone. Perhaps she was learning, after all.

“Who does he think he is, speaking to me like that?”

“A very experienced coroner who’s been doing this job longer than you’ve been alive?” I shot back at her, turning the engine over.

“Of course, you would take his side.”

Before I put the car into Reverse, I turned to her.

“Whatever bug is currently up your ass, take a laxative and shit it out. I do not have the time, the energy, or the patience to deal with you right now. In case you haven’t noticed,” I pointed out the windshield, “this isn’t fun .

This isn’t good . You have no idea just how complicated our lives have gotten, and I don’t just mean our work lives.

You better make up with your ex because you’re going to need the free babysitting.

You’ll be lucky if you get to see your kids in the coming weeks.

Whatever is happening up here is just getting started. ”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“These bodies were staged , Mira. They were not killed and dumped, victims of opportunity. These murders are specific . You need to get your head out of your ass long enough to realize that instead of worrying about being the second lead on a serial case. And if you even think about naming this guy, I will personally see to it that you are reassigned elsewhere. Do you understand me?”

She grimaced, but nodded.

I sat forward, put my seatbelt on, and then reversed out of the parking spot. We were silent for nearly ten minutes before she spoke again.

“You’ve been different the past couple of weeks. I don’t know what’s going on, if it has to do with that Phoebe-woman who called, but I?—”

I slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. The car behind us blared their horn and then drove around. I ignored it and turned towards Mira again. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Look, maybe I’m out of line, but you told me that partners always need to communicate. That we aren’t a team unless we can rely on each other and I?—”

“I don’t care about that. What did you say about the woman who called?”

Her blonde eyebrows drew down. “That you’ve been different since you started seeing her. At least, I assume you’re seeing her.”

“Her name,” I said through gritted teeth. “What did you call her?”

Another car blared their horn and sped around us. Still, I did not move the car to the side of the road.

“Phoebe?” Mira questioned. “I think that’s her name. She was telling me who called when you came back into your office.”

Phoebe. Her name was Phoebe.

Holy fucking shit.

I finally had a name for my little owl. Yet, I felt no victory for this information. Because she hadn’t given it to me. She’d given it to Mira .