*7:55 PM*
“So you’re telling me that just this early afternoon, he killed again and rather than the typical family, he murdered a woman who lives alone?” Art nodded solemnly, presenting the crime scene photos to the woman who was already looking through her previous files. Pushing her lips together in a straight line, (Y/n) was speechless as she flipped through the pages. “Umm… am I crazy, or does she…”
Art nodded and interrupted (Y/n). “Yup. She has the same features as you do. You could practically be sisters.”
“Huh.” (Y/n) continued to flip through the photos with a blank mind until reaching the end, before formulating her thoughts. “So, I think the message is pretty clear. His M.O. is drastically different, especially the main message. He carved a frown instead of a smile. He’s probably pissed at our encounter?”
Art sighed deeply and nodded before furrowing his eyebrows. “Yeah, but didn’t you say that he seemed happy to fight? I mean with the laughing and smiling.”
“Well… yeah, but now that I’m thinking about it more clearly without the extra adrenaline clouding my judgement, he seemed less than happy as time went on. Especially when he was leaving the factory. I yelled out to him that I would stop him no matter what it took, and he just stared at me… almost like he was… maybe, afraid? No, that can’t be it.” The woman began to chew her fingernails as the two racked their brains for ideas in silence. “We know I made him upset somehow, but how and why?”
Art clicked his tongue in annoyance as he took the crime scene photos from (Y/n) and looked at them once again. “You know what’s really bugging me, is why would he not kill you if he was as strong as you say he was. It sounds like he barely left a mark on you compared to what he was capable of. Does he know about the connection of the symbol with your brother?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t told anybody about it except for you all these years, not even our parents before they passed. So unless my brother is alive and came across this killer, the chances of that are slim to none.” The woman stopped biting her fingernails entirely. “If I think back more to when I first stepped into the van that took me there, he was very adamant that I look at him, which I thought was odd. I refused to look at him and told him he’s nothing but scum to me and that really seemed to make him upset. He really wanted to make the whole situation personal. That’s not entirely abnormal for a psychopath of his nature, but for him to have not killed me or punished me further as a result of that is unusual.”
“I read your statement on the driver as well. Are you sure you can’t remember any specific details about him?”
The woman adamantly shook her head. “None, only dirty blonde hair and an extremely small stature. They didn’t even talk whatsoever, but the driver definitely wasn’t a hostage being threatened. That part doesn’t make sense either. His M.O. doesn’t permit him to have a partner in crime because he’s too dominant for that. The driver also didn’t seem to care about where we were going or what we were doing, either.”
Squeezing his temple, Art felt himself getting more frustrated by the minute as he tried to piece together a puzzle that seemingly didn’t add up. “So, he wasn’t a partner in crime, then. Could just be a confidant that our unsub trusts.” The more they discussed the matter, the more confusing it got. That doesn’t add up… in fact, none of it does. As of now, I’m the only connection between what we know and what we don’t know, and I can’t comprehend any of it. His motive is still in question as well. Originally, we thought it could be familial issues since only families were targeted, but now that me and my personal life have been targeted, it makes even less sense.
Plopping the file folder down onto Art’s desk, the woman found herself feeling entirely hopeless and defeated. “We’re not going to get anywhere at this rate other than more dead bodies. Dammit, this is fucking impossible!” Rolling her neck and rubbing the tense tissue, (Y/n) carelessly spoke her thoughts out loud. “He was very upset that I did not want to personalize the relationship between him and I. It was like a game to him, that much is clear. So, he thinks of our relationship as a game rather than me trying to hunt him as a killer. So, to keep the game going, he keeps the fight going even though he could’ve killed me. He attacks Sam to mentally get to me, that’s another part of keeping things personal. So… is it possible he did that so I would let my guard down? Absolutely.” Standing up from the chair and pacing back and forth around the room, the woman continued. “The driver is someone that knows the killer and his intentions but doesn’t ask questions. Not likely to be a confidant, necessarily. Maybe someone who owes the killer a favor? Then he goes on a hiatus from killing at the same time as mine from work. I went on mine for my mentality to be cleared, but he probably enjoyed our fight to some degree, even if I made him upset, leading to his M.O. changing in both type of victim and signature. Even if we can’t fit together all the pieces, I would say the main wire I can semi-confidently connect… is the fact that his hiatus was because he was waiting for me to make the first move.”
Art processed the woman’s words as he looked at the ground. “That would make sense, but if he was waiting for your move, why’d he strike before you came back?”
“He was likely too impatient to wait any longer. If we make that assumption, then he should be waiting for me to speak to the public once again. So, how can we react to that in a way that benefits us?”
The two remained silent for several moments as they used as much brain power as they could muster. At last, Art had an epiphany; rather, a calculated risk that may be worth taking. "I have an idea." As (Y/n) gazed up at the man with hope written on her face, her expression turned to one of shock and dread.
*8:30 AM*
Rubbing his eyes after getting adequate sleep, Jeff smiled peacefully as he turned on the TV, waiting for what he had hoped was the investigator's first press conference in nearly two weeks. Luckily for him, the investigator was walking up to the microphone as soon as he flipped to the channel, prompting Jeff to feel giddy as he giggled. Let's see what you have to say about this one, (Y/n).
As cameras flashed and murmers were heard throughout the presumed sea of reporters, the investigator walked up to the podium quickly, wearing a dress. Jeff cocked his head at the unusual change in attire. "I'm (Y/n) (L/n), lead investigator on the serial killer case currently ongoing within the city. I'm here to address the rumors about the killer's hiatus and most recent activity." Jeff found himself practically drooling in anticipation of the rewarding praise she was about to give him indirectly. Give me my credit... tell them everything that's happened.
"It is true that our unsub took a hiatus for 10 days up until yesterday afternoon. I am here to confirm..." yes... YES. Say it. Tell them I've become even more unpredictable! Jeff unwittingly sliced his palms with sharp nails as he sat on the edge of his seat. "There has been another family murdered as of yesterday afternoon." Jeff's breath hitched in the back of his throat, making him joke at the sudden change of air. WHAT?! "Details of his hiatus aren't entirely known at this time, but we believe he is now in his early to mid 30's with a family of his own. Because of these new developments and needing to update our team on new strategies and possible motivations going forward, I will not be taking questions at this time." As the investigator made eye contact with the camera, she continued to speak. "If you know anything at all, please reach out and I will take your call personally. That is all." The news station went as blank as Jeff's face, which looked absolutely bewildered as his mouth remained wide open, unblinking eyes staring at the static.
Although the time elapsed was perhaps 20 minutes, it had felt like hours before Jeff found himself able to move and close his mouth, but still maintaining a state of shock as he glared at the bedroom floor beneath him. He could not feel anger, confusion, rage, bloodlust, pain, sadness. He could feel absolutely nothing at all, numbness ensuing as he attempted to process the unraveled events before him, still being unsuccessful. Jeff remained barely existent as he continued to allow the static to fill his senses; insanity provoking his ego as if there were no tomorrow. And so, Jeff continued to sit and sit, realizing that through all of this, the one who ended up the most mentally damaged was himself. She had dominated. He had lost.
Author's Note: So, (Y/n) lied to the press about the victim, as well as the profile of Jeff. Why would they do that? Any ideas? The point of Jeff's change in MO was to cause more police and public panic, as it would show he's not limited to killing just families (that and he also purposefully killed someone who looked just like (Y/n)).