They don’t know it’s me. They’ll never suspect it’s me. I made sure of that. But I am tired of waiting, sick of watching from the side. No, not tired, not sick. Bored. It’s almost time to introduce myself. Show them the game I’m playing. Let them know I’ve been watching. Waiting.
I look into the mirror hung on the wall in front of me. “Special Agent Lacey Locke,” I purr at my reflection. That’s who the FBI knows. That’s who they think I am, who I told them I am. But I know the truth, I know who I’m hiding.
With my fiery red hair and electric blue eyes, I look exactly like my back-stabbing runaway sister. And the Girl that this special gift is for. The two of you are connected. The Girl is her mother’s daughter – my sister’s daughter – and that’s as close as I’m going to get.
I desperately wanted to tell her. I have so many things I want to ask her. To teach her.
But patience is also a player in this game. So, for now, this special gift will have to do.
The box is black. The tissue is white. And the present – the present is red. I lay it gingerly in the white tissue paper and put the lid on the box. I washed my last victim’s blood off of my scissors and used them to cut a long, black ribbon – silk.
Special.
Just like the Girl is.
No. I think, picking up the present and stroking my gloved thumb along its edge. I don’t have to call her the Girl. Not anymore.
I’ve seen her. I’ve watched her. I’m sure. No more copies. No more imitations. It’s time she got to know me, the way I knew her mother. I put the card on top of the package. I scrawl her name on the outside, each letter a labour of love.
C-A-S-S-I-E.
Now, I wait.
It only took a day for the gift to arrive. For her to open it. I got a call from Agent Briggs to get back to The Natural’s house ASAP. Time to play again. Time for them to make their next move.
When I arrived at the house, all the Naturals were in the kitchen. The box was on the table, and a very pale and shaken Cassie was in a seat eyeing it, as if afraid it would explode or burst into flames if she got an inch too close.
Agent Briggs was barking orders at the team of agents that he’d brought with him. “Bag the packaging, the box, the ribbon, the card, everything – if there is a speck of evidence on any of it, I want to know. Starmans, track the box – how it was sent, where it was mailed from, who paid for it. Brooks, Vance, we need DNA on the hair and we need it yesterday. I don’t care who you have to threaten in the lab to get it done, rush it. Locke….” Briggs trailed off. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a look. To his credit he lowered his voice to a more reasonable tone and pitch.
“If this is our UNSUB (Unknown Suspect), it changes everything. We have no evidence that he’s ever made contact with a target prior to killing. This may be our chance to get ahead of him.” He explained his thoughts as if he knew he was right.
I played the familiar fake role of FBI Agent Locke, even though deep down I enjoyed seeing the others dash about in flurries of confusion and panic, knowing full well that I was the mastermind behind the murders and riddles.
I don’t remember the conversation that followed, or how I replied to the various yet unsuspecting questions shot at me. There was a whole lot about it possibly being a prank. Even more questions aimed at Cassie about who she has spoken to since arriving in the Naturals program. And an interesting confession from Dean about him and Cassie working on the case in secret, and agreeing that this was definitely the work of our UNSUB.
I remember using male pronouns when mentioning the UNSUB.
As if a woman can’t kill like a man. As if a woman would never be behind bars for bloodshed.
The thought made my own blood boil.
The shrill ring of Brigg’s phone snapped me back to the present. He picked up and turned away from the group, his body going rigid. I already knew what he was going to say before he turned back around to face everyone once again.
“We have another body.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Locke, with me. The rest of you,” He looked at each one of the Naturals in turn. “Stay put here. Judd,” He addressed the Natural’s caretaker and guardian. “Don’t let anyone leave until I give permission. This is taking a dangerous turn, and I can’t risk having anyone in range of fire.” He then left the house, me close at his heels.
I watch the FBI agents scurry around the crime scene like ants. This particular corpse is not my best work. I killed her last night, and already her screams have faded from my ears. Her face is still recognisable – more or less.
I used scissors instead of my knife.
But that’s not the point. Not this time. This time, the point is the gift I sent sweet little Cassandra Hobbes.
The pathetic girl lying lifeless on the pavement is just a part of the plan. A piece of the jigsaw. I abandoned her body at dawn, knowing that it wouldn’t be discovered immediately.
I’d hoped – prayed, even – that Cassie would be there when the agents got the call. My wish had been granted.
Did you scream when you opened the box, Cassie? Did you think about me? Am I the thought that keeps you up at night? There is so much I want to ask her.
So much I want to tell her.
To teach her.
The rest of the world will never understand. The FBI will never know the inner workings of my brain.
They’ll never know how close we are.
But Cassie – she’s going to know everything.
The game will continue. But I know what moves are going to be played. I have it all mapped and planned out. Like a blueprint plan of murder.
I know I am going to win. I only have to be patient.
I just like the thrill of the kill.