Chapter 1: Killer
I never gave much thought to my future, when it came to where I would end up in life. All I had cared about, or worked towards, was my career, but even that was beginning to crumble around me. It was my own fault, because of my obsessions, but it's not like I could help it.
I stubbed my cigarette out and took another shot of whiskey, welcoming the burn it brought to my throat. I looked back down to the papers that littered my coffee table and floor, and let out a defeated sigh.
My mind was sick of seeing strangers, wishing to see someone familiar. A face that would stand out and scream to me that he was who I was looking for. I knew it was here before me, because I had dozens of pictures sent over from the University of Tennessee to look through.
Maybe my killer would be in here, saving me from my depression, induced by my obsession. My colleagues thought I was insane, but I knew I was right. The first thing they teach you at the academy is to always trust your instincts, and until now, they had never failed me.
I had a way of reading people, feeling their emotions, and knowing when they were telling a lie, but this killer was untouchable. With no evidence, and very few leads to go on, he was a ghost.
Fortunately, to me, other things stuck out about his hideous crimes. Why did he only choose brunettes to kill, and why were their bodies found in new places, nothing ever repeated twice? He was careful, and he knew I was onto him.
The Bureau thought the killer was a male in his mid to late thirties, but I disagreed strongly. This murderer was young, with a fresh mind, who probably led an ordinary life, living among friends, and excelling in all he did, including killing women. That's why I knew the man that I was looking for, was a student.
There were thousands of women to choose from at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, and he chooses them carefully, each one unique and on a path to greatness. He worked alone, and probably didn't have a motherly figure growing up. Quite possibly, someone he knows, or is related to, has been or still is in law enforcement. Maybe he himself was majoring in some line of law enforcement.
He knows what cops look for at a crime scene, and his tactics go way beyond watching too much CSI or Law and Order: SVU.
My iPhone rang from the coffee table, startling me.
"Masen," I snapped.
"Hey, man," Emmett boomed loudly. "Wanna grab a drink?" I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"No, thanks. I'm working," I said. Emmett chuckled.
"Still staring at those fraternity profiles?"
"Give it a rest, Edward," he said, softly.
"Not until I find him," I replied firmly. Emmett sighed in defeat. He knew me well, knowing me most of my life. We both started working for the FBI together after our years spent in the Navy. Because of my obsession, I was pushing him away, too.
"Alright, man," Emmett said.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Em."
We got off of the phone, and I felt even more like a shitty person than I had before the call. How pathetic I was, sitting in my small apartment every night, the walls covered with crime scene photos and nothing to eat but saltine crackers and whiskey. I used to cringe at the sight of a dead body, but now it was as simple and normal as seeing a living one.
Once again, I sighed in defeat, and chugged more Jack Daniels before looking back to my task. I spread the profiles out, some of them falling to the floor. Students, both male and female from dozens of different sororities and fraternities, stared at me in question.
I almost gave up before brown eyes suddenly spoke to me. I moved a few other pieces of paper away from the profile, and picked it up. A young, smiling, and beautiful brunette stared at me, almost as if she was speaking directly to me.
Sadly, her profile matched my killer's motive almost perfectly, but her hair had a slight red shine to it. Isabella Marie Swan was twenty three, and she was smart, majoring in Civil Engineering. The girl came from a small town not far from the city here, right next to my hometown, and she was flawless. Her long dark hair was the same color of her eyes, causing her porcelain skin to stand out even brighter than it probably was. She took residency in the largest sorority that the college held, Alpha Omega Pi.
If my killer wanted any girl, it would be this girl. Maybe she would be the key that led me to him. I frowned, and got off of my small couch, walking over to the window still holding Miss Swan's paperwork.
Some say, if you want to catch a killer, you must become one yourself. To an extent, of course. I needed eyes on the inside of that school, so that I could surely find him. I looked back down to Isabella's face, and smiled almost wickedly.
This serial murderer wouldn't get away unscathed with Edward Masen on his ass. I would make sure of it.
YAY FOR ANOTHER NEW STORY! FBIward is one of my favorites ;)
FYI- This story is NOT Beta'd, so read at your own risk. There will be no "set schedule" in posting. I wanted to post something for y'all to read in-between Swinging Love. This story will be told in both Edward as Bella's point on view.
So, rec it, enjoy it, and I'll give more super soon since this chapter was just a little taste :)