“Something must have triggered him,” Robin whispered.
“On that note,” the Captain said. “Did we find a message this time?”
“Yes,” Kyle said, throwing a look toward Robin. He clearly felt hesitant about showing it to her.
“What is it?” Robin whispered.
He put the note down on the table, and Robin slowly read it.
“Be scared not of the monster that haunts you. Be scared of the one that resides within you. A small gift for you. You might have forgotten me, but I will never forget you.”
“Gift?” Robin asked.
“There was a body of a mangled cat lying right next to it,” Kyle said. He put the picture of the cat down on the table, and Robin suddenly felt a wave of nausea.
“What? What did you do?” She gasped out, horrified.
“Don’t you like it?” A voice whispered next to her.
“No! No!” Robin shouted. “Take it away!”
The Butcher stood in front of her, laughing.
“Really? I thought you might like it. There was much thought put into it,” he said. “Well, if you don’t like this one, I think I have another gift for you.”
He held up his knife and grinned, “I think you are going to enjoy this one.”
“Robin?” She heard voices calling her name. “Robin?”
Her eyes shot open, and she looked around, panting. She was lying on the floor as the concerned faces of her team gazed down at her.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“You fainted,” Kyle said softly.
Robin sat up, her head was throbbing and she felt as if she couldn’t stop shivering. She could see the pity in the eyes of everyone around her, and she hated it.
“Are you alright, Matthews?” the Captain asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Robin said, forcing herself to stand up even though her head was spinning.
“I have another question.” She heard Andrews’ meek voice behind her. “All the previous locations were something that was somehow or the other related to Detective Matthews. What about this one?”
“That construction site used to be a group of small houses before they were demolished,” Robin whispered. “And one of those houses was mine. I was born in one of those houses. For a very short period of my life, that was my home.”
Chapter Three
“The police still haven’t found leads regarding this serial killer, the Executioner,” the reporter said. “Three women have been found dead so far, which begs us to ask the question, what are the police doing? How many more women lay dead, waiting for the police to bring them justice? The public is riddled with fear and paranoia as the very streets they live on have become hell for them.”
The camera cut to the image of a man on the street, “I don’t know what to do anymore. These streets aren’t safe anymore. My daughter goes to school, and I am scared of what might happen to her. The police need to get their stuff together.”
“I can’t even explain how horrible this all is.” The screen changed to a woman. “I think of those poor girls, just lying there. Those poor women. Who will protect them? I don’t trust our police to get anything done. The only thing I know is that I am going to be staying home as much as I can.”
“This is all just bullshit,” Kyle said, switching off the TV.
“Calm down, will you?” Robin said absentmindedly. She was busy scouring old cases to see if she could find any similar ones. “If you keep watching the news, you are going to end up becoming an angry, old geezer.”
“Oh, as opposed to just a tired old geezer?” Kyle asked.
“Hey, I am just looking out for you,” Robin said. “Did you find anything in the old newspapers?”
“No,” he said, balancing his pen on the tip of his finger.
“Did you try to look?” Robin asked, sighing.
“Can’t say I did,” Kyle said. “Going through old, dusty papers is not my thing.”
“Oh, really? What’s your thing?” Robin asked.
“Beating your ass, apparently,” he said. “You have been slacking off, Detective. I caught two criminals yesterday. No, I have more arrests than you do. Keep up this pace, and I will have won that bet before Christmas.”
“Good to see you so passionate about your work, Detective Grange,” Robin said, laughing.
“Don’t look now, Detective Matthews,” Kyle muttered. “But it seems we have the feds in our midst.”
Despite his warning, Robin looked up, and she found herself gazing into a pair of dark brown eyes. They belonged to a rather tall, muscular man, whose black hair flopped on his forehead, and a light stubble covered his jaw. His face looked as if it was sculpted from marble, his jawline sharp and prominent. Robin felt her heartbeat pick up, and she swallowed. He smiled at her charmingly before walking off, and Robin took a breath to steady herself.
“So, it would seem,” Robin said, controlling herself. “Wonder why they are here?”
“Probably to take over the case of some poor soul,” he said. “Lecherous, aren’t they? Hunt out the smell of a good case and then just take it?”
“Detective Matthews,” the Captain said. “Detective Grange, this is special agent James Carrow from the FBI.”
Robin’s eyes met his once again, and he smiled at her.
“Pleasure to meet you, Detective,” he said, his deep voice resonating. Robin shook his hand, and her skin started to tingle where it had touched his.
“He is here to help us with the Executioner case,” the Captain said. “I suggest you share everything we have with him and that this will be a courteous team effort and there will be no problems.”
“You are Robin?” James asked. “The one that the killer is obsessed with?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Robin said, blushing for some reason.
“Well, I
