Chapter 11

Gabe watched through the two way mirror as the boy, his father sitting next to him, worked with their best sketch artist. The kid was trying, he had to give him that, sitting there studying each sample nose, ear, eye and mouth before choosing one, and then giving the artist extra, as if it just wasn't quite right.

He could see the picture of their killer, he watched it take shape and form under the artist's pencil.

The only problem, their witness was a boy, he saw with the eyes of a child. What he saw looked like a monster or the boogeyman with wild eyes and dark skin. It had also been dark, on a dark street. How correct the sketch was, well that was going to be a matter of interpretation.

He waited until the artist was through, standing outside the door and smiling at the boy as his dad ushered him out. Then he went in.

"The kid was a wonder," Gabe said, standing beside the artist as he finished a few more lines on the face.

"Yeah, he was real specific about every feature. I think we got a budding cop on our hands," Jean Peters, the artist said. "He was actually easier to work with than some of the adults I've had to deal with. He blew on the sketch to rid it of some eraser marks than lifted the paper. "Ta da! Gabe, meet your Red Ribbon Rapist."

Gabe chuckled, taking the paper and staring at the face. "You know, I'd really love to know who comes up with some of these names they give killers."

Jean laughed. "Yeah but it sure as hell sounds better than 'unsub' or 'unknown perpetrator'. Everyone knows who you're talking about."

He handed the sketch back to Jean. "Get me a couple hundred copies of that, okay? Have it sent out state wide, especially county wide. And I need some real clean copies to hand out to the press. I guess it's time to call a news conference."

"Yeah, guess you should go make yourself pretty," Jean said, standing up and slipping the sketch into his folder which he tucked into a case that held all his equipment. "Better you than me," he said, slapping his hand across Gabe's back.

"Not me, I don't deal with the press, that's the Captain's deal. He plays with the politics, I do the cop work." He watched as he picked up his samples, putting them back in their folders, cleaning up his space. "As soon as possible, Jean?"

"You got it," he said, picking up his case and heading out of the room.

Gabe's eyes narrowed, staring blindly at the dull gray wall. He could almost feel the collar, the satisfaction he would derive from putting this one behind bars for the rest of his life. He was close, now for a bit of luck on top of his police work. He was due.

Tina woke slowly, keeping her eyes closed as she listened for any sounds that might indicate he was around. She heard the sound of breathing from the girl who was sleeping on the small cot with her, a feat she didn't know how she'd managed. Not after everything she'd had to do to get her there.

She hated to think of the begging and placating, the kissing ass almost literally she'd had to do last night to get him to loose the poor, frightened girl from the chair. By the time he'd been through playing with them, the girl's arms and legs had been bloody from those damn plastic zip ties. So she'd begged to be allowed to release her, promising to share her bed and the cubicle with her, to take care of her and to not try to escape. As if either had believed she meant the later.

Her name was Michelle. She was barely twenty, new to town and hadn't given much thought to the curfew when she'd left her place the night before to run up to the store for a pack of cigarettes. She'd had the innocence of the young, bad things wouldn't happen to her, they happened to other people, people you hear about on the news.

She knew differently now.

Tina lifted her head, opening her eyes and glancing around the dark basement. There were small night lights set up now, something he had done for her. She hated the dark, was terrified of it and had only just conquered her fear, in the safety of Angie's arms.

Now Angie was dead and Tina would be in the dark forever. A tear gathered on her cheek as a vision of her pretty blonde girlfriend came to mind, smiling sweetly at her. It was superimposed by a vision of blood, a vision that he gave her.

"Is it safe?" Michelle asked, her voice so small as to almost be heard.

"Yeah, he's at work," Tina said, sitting up slowly, her abused body protesting every movement.

"I need to thank you, Tina. What you did for me last night, what you let him do to you for me, oh my God. I never expected that." Michelle sat next to her, snuggling close in the cool air of the basement.

"It's okay," Tina said, glancing down at her. Though in all honesty, Tina didn't know if she was. She'd never hurt this badly before, ever. Her pussy burned from his cock and his fingers that he'd forced inside of her. But worse, so much worse was her ass. She'd never taken anything there, not even the smallest of the dildos that she and Angie had played with. Not ever a finger before last night.

He'd forced her to bend over, her face buried between Michelle's legs while he'd pushed into her, his cock forcing through the tight ring of her anus, making her feel as if he'd split her wide open. She hadn't been able to stop the cries of pain that had escaped her as he'd wiggled his way into her dry opening until she took him all.

Then he'd taken her hand, making her feel his cock buried so deeply in her ass, wiping her fingers through the blood caused by his abuse, smearing it over Michelle's thighs. He'd fucked her long, though not as hard as he could have, actually gentling his movements when she begged him to.

But now she hurt, and she hurt badly.

"Would you like me to look to see how bad it is?" Michelle asked softly.

"How did..."

"I knew a girl once whose boyfriend raped her like that. She was torn up afterwards, but didn't want her parents to know what had happened to her. They would have forbidden her to go out with him again. The stupid twit. I'd have cut off his dick myself."

Tina went to lie back down on the cot, on her stomach, trying to relax as Michelle moved down the cot towards the curves of her ass. She felt her fingers on her butt cheeks, carefully, and gently, pulling them apart.

"There's a lot of blood," she said, grabbing one end of the small sheet that was on the bed and ripping off a piece. She wet it in the sink and brought it back, sitting down and looking up at what little she could see of Tina. "I'll try to be careful," she whispered.

Tina cringed as she felt the water against her swollen and cracked flesh. Michelle was doing her best to be careful but the pain was intense. Tears started in her eyes. She didn't know how much more of this she could take, how much more she would want to take before she finally gave up and begged for him to kill her. If he planned to fuck her ass more, she didn't think it would take long. Then she would be another statistic, another girl murdered. She'd be a notch on whatever this sicko notched to keep count of his tally of bodies.

"I'm sorry, Tina," Michelle whispered, feeling the girl flinch. "I feel so bad about..."

"Forget it," Tina said. "I hurt you, too, last night."

She could still hear his voice in her ear. "Fuck her with your fingers; rip open that pretty little cherry. I want to hear her scream." She might have been gentler with Michelle, but he'd grabbed her ass, pushing in deep, his hip bones digging into her ass cheeks. "Hurt her, Tina, or I'll really show you what getting your ass fucked is like."

God forgive her, but she had, not even giving the girl warning before thrusting two fingers inside her cunt and spreading them wide, feeling the thinness of that membrane that covered part of the outside of her vagina as it split and tore. Michelle had screamed, the sound seeming to disappear in the room, as all screams seemed to. There was no echo, nor reverberation.

"It could have been worse," Michelle stated, matter-of-factly. "He could have fucked me before he woke you. I thought he was going to when he forced me into that chair and cut my clothes off of me." She didn't even want to think of the humiliation she'd felt as he'd brought out a razor and shaving cream, or the way he fingers had felt, smoothing over her skin as he shaved away her dark fuzz.

"I'll try to protect you, Michelle," Tina said, the thought of having someone to watch out for actually making her feel stronger. She flinched as the girl's soft fingers touched a very tender spot, and then relaxed when she got up to rinse out the small rag, coming back with it to start over, cleaning off his filth and her own.

"I don't know how I would handle this without you," Michelle murmured.

"It's handled," the captain told Gabe as he walked into his office, a copy of the killer clutched in his hands. "We've got the call out to all the news stations and the papers. They'll be here at 4:00, which gives them all plenty of time to get it in their early evening editions."

"Great, Jean's supposed to be sending up about forty of these to hand out to the press, I'll make sure you get them as soon as they show up."

"You keep them, Gabe. You're talking to the press. It's your case and I want your face on it." The captain sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers before him.

"You want me to deliver the release?" Gabe took two steps inside the door, found the chair in front of the captain's desk and sat down in it heavily.

"Yeah, you got any problems with sending out a challenge to a scumbag killer?"

"No, no problems, Cap. Are you sure you don't want Kaylee up there with me?" he asked sarcastically.

"Think she'd go for it?" the captain asked seriously, sitting forward suddenly. "It might be what we need to have this guy finally try again for her, somewhere where we can control it. She'd be perfectly safe," he finished.

"I wouldn't go for it. Come on, Cap. You're talking about a victim here, not another cop. We can't ask a civilian to get involved and put herself on the line for this."

"What if I don't want to be a victim anymore?" Kaylee said, stepping in from the doorway where'd she'd been listening. Her face turned red as she realized she'd just given away her eavesdropping but she refused to back down. She was tired of bad dreams, of not being able to walk to the bathroom on her own, of not having her car or her life. The only thing that came out of this fiasco that was worth anything was her relationship with Gabe.

"Kaylee, this isn't your decision," Gabe said, getting out of his chair and going to her.

"Why isn't it her decision, Hampton? She's the one that's been under protective custody, it's her life that's been disrupted and torn to pieces. Why shouldn't it be up to her whether or not she wants to fight for the freedoms that this scum bag has ripped away from her?"

Kaylee gave Gabe a look that as much asked him the same question before coming in and sitting down before the captain's desk. "So what did you have in mind, Captain?"