Arctic Storm

I watch as Kensey throws her dark red hair up into this intricate bun. I think that’s what it’s called. In a move typical to her she places her hands on her hips and stares at the fence with a scrunched expression. “Kensey… what on earth are you doing?” I glance past her to inspect the fenced off building currently surrounded with crime scene tape.

“What’s it look like?” She sasses as she glances over her shoulder with a cheeky grin. Her stark blue eyes glitter mischievously. “I’m exploring- duh.” I glance behind her at the building.

“You are aware, this isn’t a good idea, right?” She just laughs and rolls her eyes at me.

“No good idea is fun.” She tries to point out, making me frown in confusion. What on earth? I have to shake my head at her.

“You know this is a crime scene right?” She just shrugs as she climbs the fence to pause and look over her shoulder once more at me.

“It’s not active, no one has been out for months.”

“And? It’s still no trespassing.” She just laughs and shakes her head with a grin.

“Jack, give it up! Don’t act like you’re this big goodie two shoes!” She laughed as she threw her leg over the chain link fence. “Live a little! Show the world those horns you’ve been hiding from the world.” I roll my eyes even as I struggle to fight the lopsided grin that stretches my features.

“I hide it with my barbed wire halo.” She throws her head back to give a carefree laugh, her eyes twinkle as she gives me a wink, dropping to the opposite side of the fence.

“Come on Jack- join the dark side, I have cookies.” She taunts, her blue eyes heat with the double meaning making it impossible to refuse her. Why do I let her drag me into this shit?

“You’re no good, Kensey.” I sigh, pulling myself up and over the fence as she grins, fake tossing her hair with her hand.

“I’m good at being bad.” You’re something Angel eyes. She trumps over the decaying overgrowth, stomping down brittle briars as she heads towards the large decrepit building.

“What’s the story behind this anyway?” I use the toe of my boot to nudge one of the forgotten number markers for evidence seeing the lack of anything besides dead foliage.

“Do you want the facts or the rumors?” She asks over her shoulder as she brings out her pen light, glancing over the boarded windows, crossed with the obscene neon yellow tape.

“There’s rumors already?” Kensey looks at me with a smirk.

“The devil loves to whisper gossip you know?” She grabs a stick knocking out the remaining shards of a broken side window to the entryway. “Seriously though, I hear it was a double homicide- have you heard of the Spectator?” She segways, stepping through the clear space, glass crunches beneath her boots.

“The Spectator?” I ask skeptically. What kind of name is that? Kensey nods, pausing to scan her light over the darkened room.

“Yeah… He was an active killer ages ago, it’s said he killed upwards of thirty people.” She points her light in the room behind her before a grin blossoms. “Wow, look at this! The stains are here still.”

“What’s with the name?” I follow her into the room, watching as she points her light at the stains with a wide grin.

“The reports I got were true! My first real informant!” She squealed and jumped up and down like a giggling clown gifted a perfect balloon animal. “I’m getting somewhere- Jack, do you know what this means?” She spins around to face me and the look of unadulterated excitement makes me want to smile as my heart does a funny tweak. This girl will be the death of me.

“What does it mean?” I ask to amuse her as she dances around in a circle again.

“I’m in the big leagues baby!! This is gonna be my first big story! Just wait- I’ll be on the front page, biggest headlines- all over the world!” She gushes with a dreamy sigh.

“What’s with the name?” I ask again, watching as she stops and looks at me with this sheepish smile.

“Right- the Spectator, his whole gig was stalking and watching. It’d take him a month to select a victim- always a couple. They had to fit his perfect story. Over the next few months, weird things would happen. A note would be dropped off, flowers and gifts. Small things, while strange, could be played off.” I nod slowly watching as she starts to look around with this small grin.

“So he was a cuck?” She snorts as she looks at me with a pointed stare.

“It’d escalate to break-ins, when they weren’t there, to later down the line when they were home, at night.” She waves off my next comment, knowing me well enough by now. “Then, he strikes. He spends the weekend with the couple, locking them inside to do what they always do, being watched. The police speculate that when the man doesn’t pass his test, he kills them to ‘step’ into their role.”

“So he’s imponent to boot.” She snorts laughter, covering her nose at the sound with a glare at me.

“Stop it!” She shakes her head as she fights a smile. “The coroner’s report was never conclusive if there was sexual trauma. There were signs of consensual sex, but a lack of DNA to prove if it was the killer or their partners.”

“It sounds like the man had a fantasy of a happy relationship. I’m sure in some cases there was an agreement, the women probably thought they would live if they agreed.” She pauses and nods as she points at me.

“Good thinking, I’d love to bring this case before a psychiatrist to see what their thoughts would be of the complexes of the Spectator.” She hums softly before shrugging.

“What does this have to do with that guy?” Kensey gives a wide grin as she points at the dried stains.

“The reports were scary similar to the Spectator’s. It was a couple who was killed, the male died here over a day prior to the female. Similar to the Spectator’s linked cases.” She waves me forward as she heads towards the stairs on a mission.

“What happened to that guy?” Heading up the stairs, she flashes the light around, pointing towards the empty walls.

“They had to take pictures down, and said it was a massacre with the arterial spray.” Her light scans the wall and the rust brown stains, some moved to drip onto the floor. Looks like it was brutal to say the least.

“What happened to the Spectator?” I reiterate as she stops on the top step to stare at me with a smile.

“That is where it gets interesting.” I arch a brow at that as she turns around with a devious snicker. “Follow me to hear the tale that has become of the Spectator.” She mocks an accent as she waves her arms around with a glitter in her eyes. She is something else. The older house creaks as she walks along one of the boards, listening to its groans as she heads towards what I can guess is the master suite.

“You’re having too much fun with this.” I point out to her while she pushes the door open, the room looks much like the rest of the house. Abandoned, left to the wilderness and would be detectives.

“They arrested a man, Jeremy Wilkers as the Spectator- yet this, proves they got the wrong man.” She waves her arms to the cut apart bed with a smile.

“This is proof they got the wrong guy? That the cops mutilated a mattress?” I question sarcastically earning a huff from her.

“No, This is the same M.O. Exactly the same M.O.” She smirks, planting her hands on her hips. “My theory is Jeremy Wilkers admitted to crimes he didn’t commit to get good standing in prison. I personally think that the man who killed Amber Greene and Rex Harold, is the real Spectator.” She nods her head as a definitive. “I just know it and I plan to solve this crime.”

“And why do you want to do that?” She grins at me.

“Because I’m an investigative journalist, duh, the more cases I solve, the better rep I’ll have. A name is important, I can’t have a tarnished name and no rapport for solving crime.” She points out as she looks around the place, before nodding towards the headboard. “Now help me, I’ve been studying old cases- if this is who I think it is. He left a little something.”

Kensey stands on one side, holding the edge of the head board with a grin as she bounces on the balls of her feet ready.

“How much reading have you done about this guy?” I ask as I move diligently to the opposite side to help her pull the bed out. A piece of paper flutters to the ground, slipping from the board as a light item thunks to the floor.

“OH MY GAH!” She screams jumping up and down.

“Score?” She does know what this means right? I stare at the charm that looks like a magnifying glass as she grins up at me, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I could get Jeremy out of jail with how much I know about these cases- this? This proves I’m right. The Spectator was never caught. And he’s active again.” I stare at her shaking my head as she reaches for the paper.

“Woah- don’t touch that Kensey. That’s evidence, if what you’re on about is true. This is not good- at all.” She pauses half bent down before she gives me a dirty look.

“I know better than to touch it, I wanted to see what the note says. He’s never left a note, just a charm that looks like the same one. This is crazy.” She crouches by the paper reading over the note quickly, her eyes scan the page a mile a minute.

“We have to call the cops and report this.” She waves a hand at me as she finally glances up at me.

“Try again. Watch and learn. Reverse your errors or let hell rain down on all that have stolen my glory. Vengeance will come to those ignorant to reality.” She reads it before glancing at the charm, her eyes glittering.

“More reason to call the cops and stop more massacres.” I point out as she practically crawls over the silver magnifying glass.

“I’ve only seen pictures of it, I thought it would’ve been smaller.” She awes over it before glancing up at me with a frown. “Do we have to? They’ll get pissy we tainted a crime scene, especially since we’ve found evidence.” I stare at her silently watching her lips pinch before she groans standing up.

“You know we have to- this could be what stops more deaths, if it takes him months to find his next target.” I pause watching as she nods understanding.

“Fine, but I’m taking pictures and you’re gonna call the tip in, anonymously.” She sniffs making me roll my eyes at her.

“Are you going to cooperate with them for the investigation?” She sighs as she looks at me.

“If they ask for help- yes. But I want to break the story. I’ll get my theory out there and point out their mistakes-”

“Kensey.” She stamps her foot as she pulls out her disposable camera with a pout.

“Jack-Jack, you’re no fun! Stop trying to steal my thunder, I have to get my name out there and this is my big ticket. I already have it drafted for my blog, I won’t post the pictures until the case is in the works.” She started snapping pictures from different angles, making me shake my head at her. What will I do with you?