Killer Instincts

Chapter Six

Bailey's removal from the case cut deeper than any words could convey. The ache of unfulfilled duty and the lingering questions surrounding the unsolved mystery weighed heavily on her. The case had become a part of her identity, and being pulled away left an indescribable void.

In the quiet moments, the frustration and sense of injustice resonated within Bailey. Each piece of evidence, every lead left unexplored, felt like a personal affront. The inability to see the case through gnawed at her, and the unspoken emotions stirred a storm beneath her composed exterior. Determination ignited within her like a smoldering flame refusing to be extinguished. The sense of unfinished business fueled her resolve.

Despite the official detachment, she couldn't shake the responsibility she felt for solving the case, even if she was only an intern. The case had become deeply personal to her, and she wanted to see it through and was going to one way or another. 

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The media had named the offender The Phantom Ripper due to the nature of their kills, but it was their elusive nature that taunted her. Everything about them was a taunt. The masks left behind being the biggest taunt of all. 

Bailey sat on her bed, the little paperwork and evidence from the case she had aquired possession of was spread out across the comforter. The victims' lives: what they did prior to their deaths, who they were with, who had last seen them alive. It was all printed out on eight by eleven white paper, highlighted to hell, for her to read over and over again. Amidst the mess were pictures of the only evidence ever found on the scenes. The white masks. 

Bailey picks up the pictures and stares at them, her eyes scanning the images for anything noteworthy.

"Why do you leave these?" She mutters to herself as she lays the photos back down on the bed. Bailey lets out an exasperated sigh and flips through the papers until she finds the short text conversation the Phantom Ripper had with Khloe moments before her death.

The number the ripper used had since been disconnected, which meant a burner may have been used. Sergeant Rodriguez attempted to go through the phone records for the number but had come up empty, and without the device, she wasn't going to be able to determine if the ripper was talking to anyone else after Khloe. Carlos and Mia seemed to be completely unplanned, which meant it could have easily been someone else lying in a puddle of their own blood. 

Bailey lets out another exasperated sigh and throws the paper back onto the bed, then gathers all of the papers and forms them into a semi-neat pile. She had her head buried in the case long enough for the night and felt it was time to put it to rest until she could get a clear head.

Bailey slides off her bed, the pile of the papers pressed against her chest. Bailey tightens her arms around it and walks across the room to where her desk sits and sets the pile down next to her laptop. Her eyes lingered on the photo of Khloe. It was a recently taken photo that was warm and inviting and captured her beautiful personality perfectly. Her blue eyes held so much life, and her lips were curled into a genuinely happy smile. Bailey brushes her fingers over the picture and holds back tears.

"I will find out who did this to you, Khloe. I promise." She whispers as a single tear rolls down her cheek and onto the photograph. Bailey sets the papers down and wipes the tear away with her sleeve.

With another quick glance at the photo, Bailey then opens her door. Max, who was lying in front of the doorway, looked up at Bailey before standing up to properly greet her. Bailey smiles warmly and scratches the dogs head. "Come on, Max. Let's get some dinner." Bailey steps out of her room and closes the door behind her, then slowly makes her way into the living room.