Chapter Fifty Maria felt a little different reading the letter this time. She knew so much more about Lorelei and her past than she had before. A pang of guilt shot through her knowing that she had helped break Lorelei Govern's secret to someone who had loved her. To Michael. She flipped through the letters; each one began with 'Agent Guerin'. No changes, nothing different. Throughout the two years, he never deviated from addressing them to 'Agent Guerin'. In the actual poems he'd called him 'Agent Guerin', 'Agent dear' and 'Michael', once. Maria shook her head trying not to get ahead of herself. She looked at the man beside her and started taking notes on a legal pad. Suddenly falling back into high school mode, she drew a heart around Michael's name. She was an angel Tried and true You lost her to the devil Now what to do? More will follow Is that a dare? How will I vanish? Into thin air. Agent Guerin can you find me? Agent Guerin can you care? From what Maria had learned from Michael about Lorelei, she was indeed an angel. To him, she had been an angel. To David Laws she had been one figuratively before he turned her into one literally. "Michael," she said the name of her lover as she adjusted her side holster. "Yes," his hands paused over the keyboard and he looked at her. "Never mind," she smiled and unfastened the holster. She took it off and laid it on the table in front of them. She shook her head suddenly feeling inadequate. An intense feeling to talk about a future had struck her out of nowhere but with inner restraint, she fought it down. Not here. Not now. Tonight. She smiled at his bewildered expression. "Go back to work." She waited until he had resumed typing to go back to what lay waiting in front of her. She closed her eyes and prayed that she'd be able to see something. That she'd be able to put it all together and break the case. That she'd be able to establish a link between the victims and get to the next one in time, get to the next one before David Laws did. The next letter was the one with the rules. As vague as they were, Maria understood them. Work alone; get some help from some Podunk Sheriff's department who doesn't know anything. No help from the bureau or city or state police, only local. She felt as bitter about it now as she had the first time she'd read it. Screw him, she thought, this stupid Deputy will be the one to bring you to your knees. She fought the urge to shred the letters as she read them. Anger welled up from deep inside of her. The two letters before her already didn't give her much hope for finding anything she hadn't seen before. She kept her fingers crossed on the wish that she'd see it. That she'd see it and could find the killer before it was too late. I think my eyes will be deceived or Are you as smart as you believe? I promised, did I lie? I told you more would die. Your life is marred Your soul is ripped Will you let me win? Will you make a slip? Go to Billings, Agent dear The answer will soon be clear. She sighed. "I don't think that he knew exactly what he was going to do when he killed Lorelei." "What do you mean?" Michael gave her his full attention. "I mean, I don't know if he knew what he going to do or if he was even going to be able to do it in the beginning. I mean, this was a plan of his, and it seems in the start he had an idea but wasn't quite sure if he could follow through with it for whatever reason." She shook her head and tried to collect her thoughts. "Again, I'm going on theory here, nothing concrete." "You've been right so far," he urged with a nod. "Maybe," she shrugged. "I want to see so bad what I missed the first time through that I hope I'm not just grasping at straws and making shit up." He smiled at her and reached for her hand. "You're smart Maria, brilliant actually. I believe in you, I have since the moment I met you." "Yeah," she smiled remembering how she had acted in their first meeting. "Anyway, I'm only through the first three letters and I'm not even counting the second one. It's just rules." "Lorelei," he said the name in a way he hadn't been able to before. No emotional baggage came with it. Not hurt, no pain and no anger. Michael knew in that instant that he had moved on permanently. The woman sitting next to him had filled a void in his life; he didn't need to live for the dead girls anymore. He had a living, breathing one now. Maria nodded and heard the difference in the way he said her name. Again, the rules had changed. "There's a link Michael, I can almost feel it now." She nodded with her eyes wide. "I don't know if he knew the link when he started or not, but there is definitely one and I'll find it." He nodded and let go of her hand. "I know you will Maria, I know you will." Maria turned back to the letters and decided to try a new tactic. Read them all once straight through; no note taking, just reading. Ivy Mason came next. Sweet Ivy from Montana with the horse named Red. Told you once Told you twice More to come So please play nice You are the smart one You are the savior Cards will fall Will they be in your favor? Agent Guerin this is all for you Agent Guerin, what will you do? Maria shook her head and scrapped her idea about reading them straight through. She knew by the end of the day she'd have read and reread them each a thousand times. It had to be in the letters. There was no other explanation, it was in the letters but they couldn't see why. Written in blood and lots to see. I've thrown it all in your face. Lives for them but you can't see why. Words from a dream flittered in and out of her conscious mind as she doodled the words on the legal pad. It's in our face; she closed her eyes and tried to pull an idea from any place her brain would let her access. Written in blood. Her breathing became shallow; her eyes seemed too heavy to open. She rested her head on her arms; her face hovered inches above the letters. She breathed them in and wondered that if she slept on them the information that she needed would seep into her brain by osmosis. "Are you falling asleep?" Michael leaned in close to her, his face inches away from hers. "No," she smiled keeping her eyes shut. "You didn't give up already, did you?" He asked and poked her jokingly in the side with his finger. She grinned and opened one eye at him. "Haven't I told you before I don't know how to give up?" He scooted his chair closer to her and covered her body with his. He pushed her hair to the side and inhaled the nape of her neck. "You always smell so good." He slid one hand around her waist under her tank shirt. "And your skin is always so soft." Maria smiled and closed her eye again feeling the warmth of his hand on her stomach; the warmth of his body over hers. She sighed and wondered if it'd always feel like this. He kissed the back of her neck and sat back in his chair. "You'll see it Maria. I know you'll see it." She nodded as she sat straight up. Looking at Michael, she saw a man who'd been tortured for two years. She couldn't imagine what he'd gone through. After only a few days, it seemed like forever to her. She progressed to the next letter, Veronica Page from Michigan. Three little maidens all in a row I can't stop now I'm on a roll Won't stop until you realize Everything I know. Don't know what It means Can't see through the rain I'm going to make you witness The heartache and pain. Agent Guerin is your heart still dead? Agent Guerin can you put yourself in my head? "He's a freaking lunatic." Maria sighed. She remembered the picture of Ronnie Page posed in death in front of her stuffed animals. "Fucking animal." She whispered. Michael touched her bare arm. "Maria." "Find him Michael," she looked to him with pleading eyes. "Find him before he does this to someone else. Find him before he destroys another family." * * * Chapter Fifty One Agent Michael Guerin made Maria a silent promise. Without words, he promised her he'd find the killer. He promised he'd find David Laws. It was a promise he knew he was damn well going to keep. Maria understood the silence and turned back to her letters. Her letters, she mused. For so long they had been 'Michael's letters' and now they had become hers. The confidence Michael had in her was almost unnerving. If she didn't feel it too, it would have been worse. Today. Today she was positive she was going to find the link to the victims. Today. Today was going to be the end of the reign of terror that David Laws had bestowed on Michael Guerin and eleven innocent victims and their grieving friends and family. She nodded to herself and picked up the next one of her letters. Troubled but trying to clean up her act, Elizabeth Randolph. Betsey. Minds are weak Wasn't she fun? Time is still of the essence I think I've won. Taste of the sorrow Hear the shouts and cries Yesterday is history The future means she dies. Agent Guerin attempting to link. Agent Guerin is your heart where you think? Maria read it again trying to take a different slant on it. She was stuck on the last line of the second stanza. The future means she dies.She rubbed her arms trying to chase away the constant chills she got from the son-of-a-bitch and his creepy rhymes. "How can he say that?" She whispered the words but wasn't expecting an answer from Michael. "How can he say that 'the future means she dies'? She's already dead, hence the whole shebang! I hate this guy!" Her voice rose with each word. She grimaced at Michael who had stopped tapping on the keyboard to look at her. "Sorry, but I think some of this is going to be out loud." "Do you want me to leave?" He raised his eyebrows. "Hell no," she rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'll try to stay quiet." She made the motion with her forefinger and thumb of zipping her mouth closed and went back to the letter. Attempting to link. Trying to link. Trying to link because there is a link, but Michael couldn't figure it out. Maria whipped out the next letter. Sara Finely, who thrived on numbers and lived in Florida with her family. Disciples of theory Tight around the knob Are you still trying Is it more than a job? Can't replace what's gone Won't try to think why No time to get attached Still a few more to die. I am here with you always Agent dear. I am here with you always; I can smell her fear. "You know Michael, I don't think you're supposed to figure out the link or what the hell these letters mean until the end." "Really?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah, really." She shrugged. "He says there's clues and everything is right in front of you, but unless you’re a freaking mind reader, I don't think you're supposed to get it until the end. He said it again and again that it's in your face, but until he's finished, I don't know if we're going to see it." "I won't let anyone else die Maria. I can't." She nodded and turned back to her letters. Filled with grief, she looked over her shoulder at the wall of victims and made a silent promise of her own to each of them. A promise that she wouldn't quit on them. Alone at this passing Forever in your heart? Nearly the core of my duty And you can't make a start. Straying by thinking Alone in your quest Who's my next victim? Who's your next guest? Agent Guerin alone with your dead heart. Agent Guerin lives for them not knowing his part. Nothing. After eight letters, Maria had nothing. No brilliant thoughts that would help them zero in on David Laws. No rhyme or reason to apparent random killings. No obvious link in the victims, or for that matter she thought, not a hidden one either. Not yet. These women were as different as night and day, but they were all murdered for a reason. Maria licked her lips and crossed her legs; the forgotten ankle holster made a surprising reminder when she lifted her leg and felt the weight. "You know, this ankle thing is bad ass, seriously, I feel all 'Vice-like'. But man, how do people wear these all the time?" "You get used to it," Michael replied, the corners of his mouth began to turn upwards. "Uncomfortable? Try walking around some more. Get a feel for it." "How about I just take it off and put it on the table with the other one?" "No," he shook his head and wondered if she could see his nerves bouncing inside of him. The feeling of being on edge all morning was destroying his ability to concentrate. "Keep it on. Walk around for a minute. If you don't wear it, you'll never get used to it. Just like you should be wearing the other holster too." She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. "Why are you being all artillery gung-ho?" She stood up and stretched, her tank shirt riding high on her abdomen. "Seriously. Do you think we're going to have a shoot out in the Sheriff's Station?" He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. He didn't know what to expect anymore. His plans were a blank page in front of him. He felt as if he was writing his future every minute of each passing day. Sometimes Maria would surprise him; other times he thought he could read her like a great novel. Most of the time, she surprised him. She had an edge to her that he'd never found in another person. An individuality that he knew couldn't be matched. So strong, so bright. So beautiful. He watched as Maria walked the length of the room; he smiled as she over exaggerated the extra weight on her leg and then marveled how she exuded confidence. She stood on the other side of the table from him, her hands on her hips. "Well? How did I do? Did you notice it? Was I walking like Quasimodo?" She cocked her head to one side and waited for an answer. "I think you walk entirely too erect to be Quaismodo," he stood and leaned forward resting his palms flat on the table on either side of the laptop. "And I think you did a beautiful job of carrying concealed." She bat her eyelashes at him. "You say the sweetest things." He sat back down and shook his head unable to wipe the sudden smile off his face. Maria took her seat next to him and went directly to the next letter. Frances Lewis. Party girl from Rhode Island who dreamt of being a singer. Maria paused before she read and became slighted unsettled that she was able to remember so much about each victim. All it took was her name and she could recall the tiniest of details about her. Sings of the Angels Traces lines in the sand Not a super hero Just merely a man. Nightshades are on At the core of my delight Will you understand why? Will you catch me tonight? Agent Guerin, a man and a mountain. Agent Guerin, can you move it to see? He was halfway through when he murdered Frannie. Maria closed her eyes and counted to ten before reading the letter again. He knew he was going to kill six more before he was done. She felt the anger inside of her reach the surface. She laid her head back down on the table and closed her eyes trying to block out the ugliness in front of her. * * * Kyle Valenti drove absently down the streets of Roswell. A sinking feeling in his gut told him something was going to happen but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. His hackles had been raised since Maria had walked out of his office that morning and his training as a law officer told him to trust his instincts. "Shit!" He punched the dashboard making the crack from when he punched it after finding out about Liz into a hole. He shook his head and punched it again. * * * Chapter Fifty Two As her mind began to drift, Maria DeLuca's body gave in. Resting her head on the table, the letters underneath her, she drifted off to sleep. She perked her head up and looked around, the war room. She looked over her shoulder at the wall of victims and noticed the pictures had changed. Each girl now wore a red scarf around her neck. The fabric pulled so tight it cut into their skin. "It's all for her," Michael whispered in her ear and pointed to the portrait of Lorelei. Maria studied her face; her mouth opened in a silent scream as Lorelei's face became her own. Her flaxen hair spilling over the vibrancy of a red scarf. She turned to Michael and he was smiling. "She was an angel." Maria stood up and backed away from him, her eyes wide with fear as he followed. "Tried and true," he whispered as he closed in on her and backed her against the wall. Maria held out her hands in defense as Michael grabbed them and held them over her head with one of his own. His other hand grabbed the hem of her tank shirt and lifted it up above her breasts. "Can't see through the rain," he whispered leaning in to kiss her. Maria waited for his mouth to reach hers, but it never did. His lips clamped on her nipple and sucked. A moan escaped her lips, her pelvis bucked outward. She felt his tongue swirl around her hardened nipple, the cool air hit it as he lifted his head. "Lives for them but you can't see why," his words were low in her ear. He unbuttoned and then unzipped her jeans forcing his hand inside. Inside the black bikini underwear, feeling her wetness. Thrusting fingers inside of her, staring into her half-closed eyes. "Just as clear as the rain." "Michael," she moaned his name as he brought her to climax. She watched as he backed away from her in a blur of motion. The room was no longer defined, just a whirl of colors and vague shapes. Michael was gone but she could hear his voice. "Lives for them but you can't see why. Lives for them but you can't see why." She looked down and saw her shirt was gone, the telltale red scarf was around her neck, the tails of it resting between her breasts. "Michael?" She called out into the nothingness of the room. "Lives for them but you can't see why." "Michael?" She screamed his name as a figure appeared in front of her. "Liz?" Liz Parker stood before her, her big sorrowful eyes pleaded with Maria. "I'll get it Liz. I'll get it." Maria promised the ghost of a friend. Maria opened her eyes slowly hearing the tapping of the keyboard. She raised her head and looked around. Still in the war room. She looked down at herself, still clothed and no red scarf in sight. "These dreams are killing me," she yawned and wondered how long she had been asleep. "What kind of dreams?" She didn't want to tell him how sexual they were; she had never had such sexually vivid dreams before. She didn't want to tell him that she couldn't remember much about them except they all had to do with this case. She didn't want to tell him anything. "Oh, just stupid dreams, you know?" She shrugged and picked up the next letter as thunder rolled across the sky. "I wasn't asleep that long, was I?" He shook his head. "No, maybe an hour." "No kidding," she nodded realizing what she had mistaken for a few minutes had been an hour. She glanced to the window as lightning zipped into her view. The sky was darker. More storms were on the way. "It's not raining yet." "Nope," he followed her gaze to the window. "But I bet it will be soon." Maria nodded and stepped away from anymore conversation. Lives for them but you can't see why. She looked to the letter in front of her. Olivia Marsh. Maria knew Olivia had been different from the others. Too much was put on the line for Olivia. There had been too much of an opportunity for him to be caught with Olivia. Olivia was important, but why? 'Twas a night of mystery Unbridled passion on a lark Taking from the owner Leaving a sallow mark. Slaps in your face Arise to the occasion Blind to the obvious Lost in the abomination. Agent Guerin, little boy lost in the woods? Agent Guerin, you're really not all that good. Two more letters after Olivia. Why the hell was Olivia so damn important? Maria flipped to the next one and wondered if Olivia was a key or if she was grasping at those straws again. Oh my can you see it? Can you live it can you breath it? Written in blood and lots to see That love is blinding I know you agree. Will I finish my quest? I think I might win Will you figure it out? Not with the sigh or the grin. Agent dear, do you rest easy tonight? Agent dear, can you read between the lines? Maria noticed the watermarks on the window. After a promise, it had begun to rain. It wasn't heavy, soundless against the glass. Written in blood and lots to see. She recalled the phrase from her dream and tried to dig into her brain again to pick the rest of it out. Was that one line important? Was the whole damn mystery solvable around that line? "Lives for them but you can't see why," she murmured the words Michael had said to her in the last dream during her name. "What did you say?" Michael turned his attention to her. "Maria?" "I told you some of this was going to be out loud, didn't I?" She arched her eyebrows at him and adjusted the hem of her shirt so it met the top of her jeans. "I'm just trying to read between the lines." So to speak, she mused. "I'm trying to see something I missed before. I'm trying to pin down what he wants you to know, what he implies you should have figured out." "Do you think…" he shook his head and changed his mind in mid sentence. "What?" "Do you think the letters could be a red herring?" As he said it, he didn't believe it. "No, that wouldn't make sense." "They're not a red herring," she said adamantly. "Not a chance in hell. The answer might not lie within the letters, maybe they're more of a guide…" She looked towards the window at the brilliance of lightning. "But they're not the infamous red herring. It's like I explained to you before about throwing in an unknown killer at the end. That's what makes bad movies and bad books. Same with red herrings. You can't follow something the whole time and then have it deemed completely unimportant. Although it may not be what you thought it was..." "You read too much," he smirked. "I know." She turned back to her letters as new theories formed on the outskirts of her mind. "Anything on Mr. Elusive?" He shook his head and sighed. "Nothing. Just gone. I've been digging through every known database in the world and it seems Mr. Elusive just vanished into thin air." He laughed bitterly. "I have to find him Maria. I can't let him kill again." He met her eyes and tried to hide the fear. She stared into the fearfulness of his eyes she knew he was trying to hide. She didn't know what he was afraid of. Was it that another death would be on his hands, another innocent girl? Or did he fear for himself and her theory of him being the final prize? Or was it something else altogether? She didn't respond to him. She didn't have to; she was confident he knew how she felt about it. About everything. She decided on reading a few more letters then she was going to have to make some coffee. The dream made her want a cold shower and some iced tea. But coffee would be the beverage of choice. Another letter, another chance to read in-between the lines. The last one after Olivia. Read and write by the pale moonlight Night spells fall on the prayers Are all the words not lining up right? A cause and a care are you still there? Trial and error until you can see Write and read until you see me Toss and turn throw the first stone Knight at hand, are you ready to atone? Agent Guerin do you sleep alone at night? Or Agent dear, do they haunt you? A glance at the clock let her know that she'd spent a good percentage of the day going through the first twelve letters. There were a total of twenty, only eight more to go. One for Rachel LeBeau, one for Theresa Newlin, two for Hannah Lampe and the rest came after Liz. Liz. She glanced over her shoulder at her friend. Always for Liz. A new idea began to trickle through her as she turned to the next letter. This one came after Rachel LeBeau. Rachel the Cajun girl who helped out her father and took care of her little sisters. Night on a rooftop Easy to absorb Lucky ladies waiting Do you know how many more? Forever in darkness Forever in my dreams Tied to the memories Lost always in the seams. Can you feel my breath Michael Guerin? Does it keep you awake at night? A tickle at the back of her throat reminded her she was thirsty. Thunder rattled and reminded her it was still crappy outside and that she'd probably be spending the rest of the day and most of the night stuck in the war room. She looked at her partner and smiled. Not everything was bad. * * * After the coffee had been made and most of the pot was gone, Maria returned to her letters. She held a Roswell Sheriff's Department mug cupped in her hands. She remembered when she had talked Kyle's dad into selling the mugs when he had still been Sheriff. A Silver Star badge with the words 'Roswell Law' written on it. Crawling out from the sides of the star were green alien fingers and two antennae peeking out from the top. She had designed the mugs herself and they were a big seller at a few of the community festivals. Now the department was still stuck with about five dozen. Wondering what had happened to lunch and when dinner might be in sight, she picked up the next letter. Theresa Newlin, the one who tried to fight back. What a chance what a fright A lonely room on a weepy night Battling with frustration Will you find me soon? Ages to conquer still above ground Miles to wander will I still be around? Ocean to ocean dusk to dawn Inflicting my cause with a subtle yawn. Agent Guerin, do I have to spell it out for you? Oh Agent dear, what do you harbor, is it love or is it fear? She looked out the window and rubbed her bare arms. A lonely room on a weepy night. The sky began to weep. * * * Chapter Fifty Three Michael watched Maria out of the corner of his eye while the last taken driver's license picture of David Laws filled his screen. He didn't like to see the worry lines in her forehead or the torment in her eyes. Unexpected guilt swept through him as he realized he had done this to her. He had brought her the pain and distress, although not intentionally, it was still because of him. Maria slipped her denim shirt back on and moved to the next letter. After Hannah Lampe. Posed Hannah on her kitchen counter, the local model who wanted to be an actress. Hannah, the other victim Maria deemed important. So talented to watch So delightful to taste Giving up on a future The life was such a waste. Tell the dead I walk alone On paths of broken bones Clear as crystal rolled into fun Even if you catch it, I can't stop until I'm done. Oh Agent dear, I thought you'd be so smart. Oh Agent dear, I was wrong and now you live in my art. The words were in front of her, but Maria DeLuca felt a million miles away. The letters weren't adding up for her. Something was off. "I don't know if they were to you. I mean all of them…" She looked at Michael as a spark filtered into her eyes. "All of what?" Michael turned away from the clean-shaven face of David Laws completely and focused his attention solely on her. She shook her head admonishing herself. This new idea of hers wasn't ready yet and she didn't feel like sharing its incompleteness. Not yet. There would be plenty of time for that later. Maybe tonight, after they were snuggled in at the B&B and the discussion about their future was over. Then she might bring up work again, maybe by then her half thoughts would turn into whole ones. "Nothing, just a half thought." She smiled sweetly at him and turned back to the letters in front of her. Her mind began to drift from the task at hand and towards how she was even going to bring up the subject of a future together. Virtual strangers. Strangers who had met, fallen in love and thrown caution to the wind. She glanced at his profile and knew right then that it was a face she could look at forever. * * * Kyle Valenti slammed the windshield wipers on high and swore. It was late afternoon and the roads were full of people scurrying home like cockroaches. The weather report on the radio was calling for rain and a chance of thunderstorms. "Right," he murmured as lightning flashed across the dying sky. "Chance of storms." Without thought, he dialed Maria's cell phone number and waited for her to answer. Why he was calling her, he wasn't sure. The nagging was still there and still strong. She answered and he heard the apprehension in her voice. "Is everything okay there?" He asked as he pulled over to the side of the road. "Uh…Yeah." "Okay, it's going to storm tonight," he felt foolish as the words tumbled from his mouth. "I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." He closed his eyes and listened to her rattle on about how everything was going just great and they'd be careful driving in the rain. He hit the off button and looked at the silent phone. * * * Maria stared blankly at the phone in her hand. "That was kind of bizarre." "Who was it?" Michael asked. "Kyle," she shrugged and set the phone down on the table. "Just wanting to make sure everything was going okay and to let us know it was going to storm." "Well, that was nice of him." She raised her eyebrows and looked down to the next letter after Hannah Lampe. Frothy glass you can't see through Ruminating for an implication Tempting others if you only knew Waiting for the time, you've shown your dedication. Lounging about in the shadows Lingering on the gone Wanting spaciously for closure Leading up to the song. Are you thinking of me always, oh Agent dear? Can you feel me hovering, can you feel I'm near? Her scattered idea began to come clearer. She was confidant she was on to something. Everything was so close she could almost taste it, almost touch it. She tried to make a deal with her brain to connect the ideas and theories and solve a mystery but she didn't have much to offer it, not much except the promise of a vacation when it was over. She knew the poems for Liz Parker were next. She wanted to skip right by them, but knew she couldn't. Liz was a piece of the puzzle she was trying to solve. To her, she was the biggest piece. A sense of longing took over her as she reached for the first letter after Liz. Liz had wanted them to get closer again and apologized for deserting her for Max. Liz had asked her to be her maid of honor. A maid of honor to a wedding that never would have the chance to happen. She blinked back tears while images of Liz clouded her mind. Michael touched her hand; she immediately jerked it away. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" "No. I'm not okay," she rubbed her hand where he had touched her. "My friend is dead." Michael didn't respond; he only nodded. He knew the pangs of hurt and guilt would float to the surface at any given time. He glanced at the letter in front of her and knew she was on Liz's. She was near the end. "I'll be fine," she sat up straighter and slipped her denim shirt off. "I'll be fine." She wiped at imagined tears and nodded. "We'll be fine." "Yeah," he took her hand and squeezed it. "We'll be fine." She nodded once in confirmation and let go of his hand. With a glance over her shoulder at Liz, she continued. Eleven muses eleven minds Time's running out for you to find I give you hints but you're not so bright And I know where you are this very night. Time is of the essence But you're dying of thirst I can feel your breath on my neck But you can't get past the first. It's all there in black and white. Goodnight dear Agent, goodnight. Black and white, Maria repeated to herself. Black and white. She read on, the sooner she got to the end, the sooner she could try to make sense of things and put her theories into action. Wasting your time Do my eyes deceive? Playing in forbidden forest No time to grieve. I thought you were smart But you proved me wrong I thought you'd have found me You can see I'm not gone. Tick tock, Agent Guerin find your man. Tick tock, Agent Guerin I don't think you can. "Fuck you," Maria said under her breath. "Fuck you." Anger raged through her and it felt good. "I'm pissed." "So I hear," Michael swiveled in his chair to face her. "No really, I'm super pissed." She shook her head. "Maybe getting mad will help…" "That's what I'm banking on," she gave him a wicked grin before turning away. The next letter was delivered to the Station. She shook her head; this bastard had the audacity to deliver one of his sick poems to the very place designed to find people like him. Don't forget your manners You have so much to do. I've told you times before But you're still feeling blue. Can't get past the meaning Won't get past the pain. It's all right in front of you Just as clear as the rain. Tick tock dear Agent goodnight. Tick tock dear Agent will you get it right? Yeah, she said to herself in a strong voice, we'll get it right. One more to go. This one bothered her and she knew it bothered Michael a little more too. She didn't like being mentioned in the letter at all let alone being called a bitch. But she knew this one was the most telling of them all. I never meant to start this But you left me no choice Began as one to take away When you left me without a voice. I've thrown it all in your face And now I've almost won the race Lives for them but you can't see why Time's almost up, not many more are going to die. Agent Guerin, can't you read it still? Agent Guerin, maybe your new bitch will. Michael stood up and stretched raising his arms high above him. "Dinner?" "Yeah," she looked at the clock and was amazed by how much time she had poured herself into the letters. They were complete now. Now it was time to put the pieces together. "Chinese?" "Thai?" He shrugged. "That's fine. Do you have the number?" "There's a place about five miles from here that's awesome but they don't deliver," she let out a deep breath. "But the Chinese place down the street does." "I can go get Thai," he leaned over her and kissed her lips gingerly. "I won't melt." Her eyes lit up and she wrote down what she wanted. "Are you sure you don't mind?" "For you? Anything." He took the paper from her and slid it into his back pocket. He listened to her directions and then kissed her forehead. "I won't be gone long." "Promise?" She stood up and leaned into him. "Promise," he met her lips again and tasted her. He kissed her neck and smelled jasmine. She licked her lips and took a step back from him. "You know Agent Michael, you're pretty amazing." "Oh yeah? Well, I think you're amazing." "Dedicated," she grinned playing the game she called their own. "Enthusiastic." He raised his eyebrows. He was playing too. "Passionate." "Stimulating." "You better go," she placed her hand on his chest and smiled. "You're right," he kissed her lips again. "Hurry back?" She tried to hide the pleading from her voice as she watched him put on his navy FBI windbreaker. He cupped her chin in his palm. "I'll be back before you have time to miss me." She nodded and kissed his hand. "Bye." She watched him leave and took a deep breath in the silence of an empty room. * * * Chapter Fifty Four Maria DeLuca walked around the silent room as the rain began to pelt the windows with little clicks. She faced the wall of victims and walked down it slowly looking into the eyes of each woman. Each woman who was so different from the others. Each woman who seemed to not have anything in common with the others. "There's a link," she whispered to Lorelei's face. "There's a link and it started with you. I'm not mad at you, although I guess technically I could be, Liz was my friend. Maybe you should have told Michael the truth about the husband…Period. You should have told him, but I guess you had a good reason not to, we'll probably never know either way. "Well, I'm going to get back to work and find this guy and figure out why the hell he's killing all of these innocent women." Maria looked over her shoulder then back to Lorelei. "Michael said he was smitten with you and I know you loved him. And now I love him Lorelei, and I promise I'll take care of him." Maria turned away from the picture as a sense of calm overcame her. She wondered if it was a blessing from beyond or her own clouded mind being slowly uncovered. She paced the room and compiled the letters in her head. The theory she hadn't divulged to Michael was nagging her. The theory that the letters weren't completely to Michael. Too many things were mentioned that couldn't be directed at Michael to make any type of sense. Maria believed that David Laws was writing the poems not only to Michael, but sometimes to himself and possibly Lorelei as well. It was just a theory, she was perfectly aware of that, but the more she thought about the inconsistencies the more she leaned towards her theory. "Inside the mind of a madman," she shrugged and continued to pace. "He's freaking nuts, so anything's possible. I hate that I'm talking to myself." She smiled and sat back down at her work area, her letters in front of her. As she skimmed through them, she wondered if she was latching onto something. It was a stretch, but so was everything else connected to this case. Certain phrases were jumping out at her. She recognized some of them from reading them during the day, and some shot through her brain straight from a dream world. Agent Guerin lives for them not knowing his part. Written in blood and lots to see. Agent dear, can you read between the lines? Read and write by the pale moonlight. Write and read until you see me. Maria shuffled the letters as they fell out of order. She was onto something, what exactly it was she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Agent Guerin, do I have to spell it out for you? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; her heart was racing uncontrollably. She knew she was close, she was so close she could almost taste it. She licked her lips and reached for her coffee mug. It was cool to the touch. She set the letters down and opened her eyes; she felt the excitement in them. Felt the fire behind the green. With butterflies in her stomach, she was confidant she was on the verge of cracking this bastard wide open. She walked to the coffeepot and filled her mug only stalling for a few seconds near the window. The parking lot only held a couple of cars and she longed to see Michael's Mercedes pull in. She knew he'd be awhile and came up with a fantasy in her mind of being able to show him exactly what was going on when he walked in the door. She wanted to be able to sit down and eat dinner over the excitement of figuring out what David Laws was trying to tell him. She wanted to see how proud he would be of her. She longed to have him hold her and tell her she was smart. Then, she mused, they would go back to the B&B and spend a romantic lust filled night planning their future together. "Enough with the daydreams DeLuca," she chastised herself and sat back at the table. "First things first." It's all there in black and white. It's all right in front of you Just as clear as the rain. "I almost have you David Laws," she whispered and took of sip of steamy coffee. "I almost have you." Agent Guerin can't you read it still? Agent Guerin, maybe your new bitch will. "That's right asshole," she muttered to herself. "The new bitch will. Oh yes, she will." Maria stood and began to pace in front of the table, the mug in her hand. "Think DeLuca, you can do this. You can do this. He's not that smart, it's just a game to him." She ran her hand through her hair. "It's a game that he has to finish. There's another piece to the puzzle, the end game piece, and I have to figure this out before he comes for Michael." Convinced Agent Michael Guerin was the ultimate prize, Maria shuddered. She wouldn't let anything happen to him, she promised herself in the lonely room. A lonely room on a weepy night. "That's it, scare the crap out of yourself Maria. That will get a lot accomplished while Michael's gone." She rolled her eyes and sat back in front of her letters. * * * As Kyle Valenti stood in the rain outside of a dark green Taurus station wagon, his mind was preoccupied. He wrote the speeding ticket out and handed it to the overanxious woman while she screamed at her two kids in the backseat. He stepped away from the station wagon and kicked at water that had pooled into a puddle in broken asphalt. He watched the taillights of the wagon until they were just a red blur on a rainy night. Another hour to go on his shift and the nagging feeling he'd carried with him all day was still there. He wasn't exactly looking forward to a lonely night at home, but if it would shake the feeling, he was up for it. He made a decision in the rain that he was feeling this way for no reason; his shift was almost over and his town was peaceful. * * * Agent Michael Guerin drove slowly over streets that were becoming familiar to him. The radio was turned down low and the rain hitting the metal roof was increasingly close to becoming deafening. He was surprised he was smiling and attributed it to Maria DeLuca. The woman who he met by happenstance and who turned his world upside down. A woman he could see himself spending a lifetime with. He knew she'd keep him on his toes and he couldn't wait. The plans for the evening began to cement in his mind. Eat dinner, work a few more hours and then retire to the B&B. After a few minutes of kissing, he would undress her and hold her hands. Before he made love to her he wanted to make sure he told her how much his life had changed in the past few days. How she had brought happiness and joy into his dark world. He didn't want to sound too corny about it, but she had brought sunshine to him in threefold. After the anguish of Lorelei's death, Michael was sure he would never love again. He hadn't wanted to, but now, he couldn't help himself. The way he loved Maria was unlike anything he had ever experienced. She was so different from other women, so different from Lorelei. Maybe that was why he loved her so much. He pulled off the main road into the parking lot of a drug store. A few necessities. He smiled as he ran from the car to the building thinking about how Maria had joked that she could run in-between the raindrops. When he got inside, he reached in his pocket for cash and pulled out Maria's order for dinner. He noticed at the bottom of it that she had added something. What he read made his head swim. 'Owner of your heart - Maria.' He put the paper back in his pocket, more carefully this time; he wanted to save it. With a spring in his step he picked up a box of condoms and wandered around the store aimlessly for a few minutes. He wanted to buy Maria something, just anything. Anything to let her know that he's thinking about her. Something brown and fuzzy caught his attention halfway down an aisle. Without hesitation he walked to it and picked up a stuffed dog with pick tongue hanging out of his mouth. "Perfect," he smiled to himself and walked down the card aisle. He grabbed a gift-card sized envelope and convinced the woman working in the aisle for a piece of ribbon. He laid on the Guerin charm and she walked away to find him one from behind the counter. She returned with a length of pink ribbon and a smile. He paid for his purchases and darted back to his car. Inside, he stuck a pen through the envelope and strung the ribbon through the hole, tying it around the stuffed dog's neck. On the envelope he wrote four words: I'm smitten with you. He started the car and was on his way to the Thai restaurant. * * * "He's a poet and he said Michael is now living in his art," Maria stood in front of one of the dry erase boards, a marker in one hand her coffee mug in the other. She had arranged her letters on the table next to her and had them laid out in rows. "He's playing a game and keeps saying that it's all right in his face." She began to take the stanzas from the letters and play around with the words, putting them in different orders and interchanging lines all of which gave her nothing. It was only minutes before she had almost the entire board filled with what she was calling 'useless crap.' She let out a muffled scream and closed her eyes counting to ten. No, she changed her mind and counted to eleven. After each number she said each victims name. "Liz," she shook her head and moved over a few feet to the next dry erase board. Do I have to spell it out for you? She started at the top of the board and listed each victim's name one underneath the other. Lorelei, Ivy, Ronnie, Betsey, Sara, Frannie, Olivia, Rachel, Theresa, Hannah and finally Liz. She looked at the names, a sinking feeling deep in her gut made her eyes water. She changed the names of Ronnie, Betsey and Liz to their given names; Veronica and two Elizabeth's. She dropped the marker on the floor and with the palm of her hand she erased all of the letters in the names except for the first letter in each one. L I V E S F O R T H E "Lives for the." Maria's voice came out in a cracked whisper. "Lives for the…" "M," a voice from behind her was followed by a cloth-covered hand over her mouth and nose. "Lives for them." * * * Chapter 55 Agent Michael Guerin turned up the radio as he cruised back through Roswell. The rain was still steady, but had lessened since he had left the drug store. He glanced at the clock on the dash and figured it would take him fifteen minutes to get back to the station. In fifteen minutes he was going to see Maria again. Fifteen minutes. "I'm mad about you. You're mad about me, babe. Couple of fools run wild aren't we…" he sang along with Belinda Carlisle and didn't get embarrassed. In an action so uncharacteristic for Agent Guerin, he daydreamed. As he passed by semi-familiar sites he envisioned walking into the war room and having Maria race into his arms. He wanted to sit down and eat dinner while they talked about what she accomplished while he was gone. He saw them holding hands walking out of the station and then at the B&B where they'd have a wonderful discussion about their future. Their future together. He knew he wasn't leaving Roswell without Maria DeLuca. It wasn't an option. If she didn't want to leave, then he'd stay with her. Anything for Maria. The smells of dinner were infiltrating him and he realized he was starving. After reading Maria's order at the restaurant, he decided on the same thing. Pineapple Fried Rice. The thought alone of eating fried rice out of a pineapple shell was enough to convince him. With a side of deep-fried wonton skins, Michael couldn't wait to get back to the station. To eat dinner and to see Maria, although not necessarily in that order. It hadn't been that often that they had been apart since they met and he didn't like the feeling. He glanced at the stuffed dog next to him and smiled. He never thought he'd be buying presents for anyone again, he had never been so happy to be so wrong. Deep in the crevices of an unnaturally happy moment, fear struck him. Out of nowhere, gooseflesh broke out on his skin. * * * A weeks worth of beard growth. Dark brown, almost black, hair long enough to be pulled into a small ponytail on his neck. Khaki pants and a button down white shirt. A red scarf dangling innocently from his back pocket. David Laws picked up Deputy Maria DeLuca's limp body and carried her out of the war room, his arms held her underneath her knees and back. He stole down the shortened hallway with only socks on his feet, looking over his shoulder every few seconds until he came to the fire exit. The alarm had been disarmed the day before and the door opened without incident. Into the steady rain, he carried her to a waiting car, a rented green sedan. He opened the backdoor and laid her gingerly on the backseat. He slammed the door shut and looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes was the safe amount of time before the chloroform wore off. Fifteen minutes before she'd wake up. He got into the driver's seat and started the engine. * * * Kyle Valenti looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes. That was all the time he had left until he could check in at the station and then go home. Home to nothing, he mused. He'd get used to living alone; it would just take time. His thoughts became lost as he drove towards the station. He still couldn't shake the sensation of dread no matter how hard he tried to talk himself out of it. Nothing was happening in his town tonight. Nothing. This was Roswell. A week ago he would have been the first to tell anyone that nothing too bad ever happened in Roswell. That was before Liz Parker had been murdered; now he didn't know anything anymore. Crime had reared its head in a sleepy desert town and now Kyle Valenti was expecting the unexpected. The unexpected that had recently fallen into his lap was enough for a weaker person to break down. Kyle never thought of himself as weak. The loss of a friend to a serial killer and the loss of a girlfriend to a federal agent. Kyle let out a deep breath. "Damn, this week has sucked." He drove slowly and barely had to step on the brake as a green, maybe black, sedan turned in front of him. "Freaking people," he muttered under his breath. "Don't they know it's raining? Can you say hydroplane?" He wanted to get in and out of the station as quickly as he could and hoped nothing needed attending to that couldn't wait until morning. He didn't want to see Maria with Agent Hot Shit. Not again. Not tonight. He didn't want to see the happiness in her eyes knowing that they were together. Time, he reminded himself. Everything takes time. * * * Michael drove as fast as he could while still staying in the safe range. He slowed as the light traffic came to a near stop. Moving forward slowly he saw a minor fender bender and cursed the parties under his breath. He wanted to see Maria. He had to see Maria. Once he was past the accident, he picked up speed. He tuned out the radio and drove less than cautiously with an unexplainable urgency to get back to the station. * * * Deputy Maria DeLuca was slowly swimming back into consciousness. With the tip of her tongue she tasted fabric in her mouth. A gag, she realized as the events before her mysterious blacking out came slowly back into focus. She took a deep breath through her nose and opened her eyes. Darkness. She tried to stand and couldn't. Panic washed over her as she tried to move each limb to no avail. She controlled her breathing and listened for any noise in an utterly silent room. She heard the occasional ping of water hitting metal. A whir was somewhere above her, maybe a ceiling fan? Nothing else. Fuck, she swore to herself and kept her eyes wide open and wondered if the gag in her mouth was a red scarf. * * * Kyle Valenti pulled into the parking lot at the precise moment he didn't want to. He saw the Mercedes in his rear-view mirror and cringed. "I can't escape," he muttered and pulled into a parking place. "I can't freaking escape." Kyle watched as Agent Michael Guerin parked the much-nicer-than-his-own car. He turned off the engine and waited. He didn't want to walk in the station with Michael pretending to be friends. They weren't friends. He watched as Michael grabbed a bag from the front seat. Dinner, he guessed. His eyes narrowed when he saw Agent Hot Shit tuck a stuffed animal under his windbreaker. "He's buying her presents, that's great." He opened the door shaking his head. "Just freaking great." He trailed behind the Agent at a safe distance. He followed him into the building and ducked into his office when he saw Agent Guerin stop to tie his shoe outside the war room. * * * Agent Michael Guerin tied his shoe and gathered up the bag of food and stuffed dog. With hidden apprehension and a smile on his face he pushed open the door to the war room and stepped inside expecting to see Maria. The room was empty. After a second thought of her maybe being in the restroom, he stepped further into the room and looked around. He narrowed his eyes at the writing on the dry erase boards but had to walk closer to read it. He shook his head as he stepped on something and heard it crumble underneath his boot. He looked down at broken ceramic in a pool of coffee; a large broken piece that read 'Roswell Law' identified it as Maria's mug. He spun around and saw Maria's holster on the table. His heart began to pound in his chest as he turned back to the board in front of him. He read what Maria had put together and felt the bile rise in his throat. Lives for the. "No," he whispered as he put the last piece of the puzzle in. "No." He shook his head and knew what David Laws had been trying to tell him. Lives for them. He dropped the bag of food on the floor. Michael swayed and the dog fell from his hands to the floor. "No!" He screamed and fell to his knees, his hands covering his face. Lives for them. * * * Chapter Fifty Six Kyle Valenti was standing in his office door when he heard the scream from Agent Hot Shit down the hall. Unknowing terror ripped through him. Without hesitation, he pulled the gun from his holster and ran down the hall. He burst into the war room and saw the Agent on his knees. Michael stayed on his knees; his hands covered his eyes blocking out the undeniable truth in front of him. The killer had Maria. Kyle scanned the room with his gun raised in front of him before his eyes settled back on the Agent. He noticed one thing missing from the room. One very important thing. Maria. "Guerin!" He shouted as he approached the fallen man. "Guerin! What the fuck is going on?" Michael didn't respond. He stayed on his knees, his head lowered. Kyle swore and kicked at Michael's legs. "Where's Maria?" Michael shook his head and lowered his hands before he looked up into the accusatory face of Sheriff Kyle Valenti. He wiped at his dry eyes and took a deep breath exhaling slowly. He stood up and motioned to the dry erase board. "He has her." Kyle's brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at the board then back at Michael. "He has her? Who has her? Where the fuck is she?" Michael swallowed audibly. "The killer, David Laws, he has Maria." His voice cracked. Kyle half-smiled and holstered his gun. What he was hearing from Agent Guerin was ludicrous. "Maria?" "She completed it," he walked to the board and tried to regain some of the composure he had lost. He pointed to the line of letters that Maria had figured out. "Lives for them. She was the 'M'. I don't…" Kyle walked closer to the board as the realization settled in that a serial killer had Maria DeLuca. He stepped towards Michael and pulled back his fist. His knuckles connected with Michael's jaw. Michael fell backwards taken by surprise at the violence. He stabilized his footing and rubbed his face. "You did this," Kyle rubbed his hand as minor pain shot up to his elbow. "It's because of you." Michael nodded and accepted his guilt as the trained FBI Agent filtered back into his soul. "It's not too late." "Am I going to find her outside the station with a fucking red scarf around her neck?" Kyle tried but couldn't keep the emotion out of his voice. "No," Michael's voice held authority. "No you're not. We're going to find her and get her back." "We are," Kyle nodded in resignation even though a hint of doubt lingered. "You can bet your life on it," Michael raised an eyebrow at him and hoped no one was seriously betting their life on anything. Kyle looked at the ground and saw the broken mug and spilled coffee. He bent down and stuck the tip of his finger in the brown liquid. "It's still warm." Michael nodded and knew he should have done that. Mentally he stepped aside from the man in pain and stepped completely into the Agent's shoes. Taking deep breaths, he walked to the coffeepot and felt the sides. Warm, but not hot. "It hasn't been that long. Maybe fifteen minutes." Fifteen minutes. Kyle fought the urge to vomit. Fifteen minutes ago he could have been here. He could have been waiting around the station for his shift to end; but because of the jealousy factor he had stayed away. Fifteen minutes ago he was driving very slowly. Fifteen minutes ago a dark sedan turned in front of him. Michael felt the toll of fifteen minutes as well. He was on his way back with a sweet stuffed puppy for Maria and Thai food. He was daydreaming about the rest of the night and the future and listening to Belinda Carlisle while Maria was being stolen. Stolen. The word shot through him as he remembered one of Maria's theories. She had told him that David Laws felt he, Michael, had stolen Lorelei from him. In turn, he had stolen her back and then stolen the last two years of his life. And now, Michael lamented, he had stolen Maria. This time was different. Michael studied the letters on the board. The letters that held the key, that were the key. Maria had been right about so much. David Laws had no intention of stopping until he was done. "What now?" Kyle asked shifting his weight nervously from one leg to the other. Michael faced him and a new bond was formed. It wasn't friendship and there was no camaraderie. It was a bond forced together by two people who had the same goal: To get Maria DeLuca back alive. "She wouldn't have left with him on her own." Michael began to pace and ran his hands through his hair. "Not a chance of that." "You got that right," Kyle smirked. "Maria never does anything that she doesn't want to." His gaze fell on the holster on the table. "Her holster. She doesn't have her gun. Damn it! Why did she take it off?" Michael's eyes lit up as he bent down and looked under the tables. He smiled as he stood back up. "Ankle holster." "What?" Kyle's attention snapped back to Michael. "She has on an ankle holster," Michael let out a slow breath. "I don't see it here so unless he found it, she still has it on." "Where'd she get an ankle holster?" "It's mine, she wanted to try one out. The shoulder one chafed." Michael said and recalled the conversation. "Okay, well let's keep our fingers crossed that he didn't find it." Michael went back to pacing as everything he had ever learned at Quantico flooded him. This was still a case. "Back to what we were saying before, he had to have drugged her. Chloroform. It works instantly; if he came up from behind her she'd never even know what hit her. But it doesn't last long. Twenty-five, thirty minutes max." He looked down at the broken mug. "She was here in front of the board, probably had just come up with that," he raised his eyebrows at the words that made his heart ache. "Fifteen minutes. They couldn't have gotten far in fifteen minutes." Kyle looked down at his watch and cursed his ego. "No, he wouldn't take her far. It's not the way he works. He leaves them close to home…" As he said the words guilt ravaged him. "He's close by. They're close by." "Home," Kyle picked up the pacing where Michael had left off. "My home?" "No, the B&B. He knew we were together and this is all for me." He didn't take Kyle's feelings into consideration. There wasn't time for that. "Fine, let's go." Kyle walked from the room not looking back to see if Agent Hot Shit was following or not. As he heard the quiet squeak of boots on linoleum he knew he was. He turned away from the entrance and walked down a deserted hall. He unlocked a door at the end of the hallway and stepped inside. A few feet into the room he came to a gated fence and unlocked it as well. He looked at Agent Guerin over his shoulder. "You armed?" Michael nodded and checked the clip in .9 millimeter. "I could use more." He made sure the safety was off. Kyle nodded and handed him a .9 millimeter that closely resembled the one he had just re-holstered. Michael helped himself to ammo and loaded it. He switched the safety to off and slid it in the back of his jeans. "Let's go," Michael walked from the room as Kyle locked the gate. Kyle followed him into the hallway and closed the door behind him. "Where do we start?" "It's your town Sheriff, you tell me." Kyle nodded and the two men walked side by side with purpose down the hallway to the entrance. * * * A flicker of light in front of her made Maria scream. The scream was muffled by the gag and caused her to cough. She closed her eyes as nausea washed over her. Chloroform, she thought, chloroform makes you nauseous. She bit back the queasiness with determination. Now was not the time to get sick. She was acutely aware of the fact that if she vomited, she'd choke herself and die that way. Maria DeLuca knew it took a lot more than a little sick feeling to bring her down. She opened her eyes and let them adjust to the dim light of a lantern just off to her right. Taking in her dimly lit surroundings she had no idea where she was. "You're up." An unfamiliar voice came from the shadows to the left of her. "That's good." Maria narrowed her eyes and began to talk into the gag and wondered if he could understand her well enough to know she was cussing him out with a vengeance. She made up words as she went along. "What a temper," the voice was close. "What a little spitfire, so bold and bright. I wonder if Agent Guerin misses you tonight." Maria rolled her eyes and heard him laugh. She watched as he stepped out of the shadows into the dim light of the lantern. His hair was different, longer and darker but she recognized the face from the honeymoon picture and the old driver's license. That's when it became clear to her that if she didn't do something she was going to die. * * * |
| Parts 50-56 |