Categories > Original > Drama > Dance With The Devil

Breakdown

by gnrgirl 0 reviews

In which Katelyn gets a surprise.

Category: Drama - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2010-05-12 - Updated: 2010-05-12 - 1840 words

0Unrated
I was almost at Ryan's door when a voice called out to me.

"Katelyn! Kate, wait up!"

I turned. Running at me from down the hall was my best friend, and intern, Jessica Demille.

"Hey Jess." I said, waiting for her to run to my side. She caught up with me and smiled.

"So like, wanna help me with all my reports?" She asked me sweetly, clasping her hands. I rolled my eyes.

"You're my grad student, I can't help you with your reports." I replied as sweetly, clasping my own hands. Although we were the same age, Jessica was my youngest grad student. She was very much so into Forensic Anthropology, but she just didn't really...get it.

"Ugh, please Kate? I don't understand anything!"

I sighed. "Fine, bring them by my place tonight. We'll work on them and watch some TV and talk."

"And drink?"

The question didn't surprise me. I started to turn from her.

"Hey, where are you going anyways?" Jessica asked, looking ahead of me, "Oh, Ryan's office. He's a beast, don't you think? I mean, those eyes? And that body? Jesus Christ."

I rolled my eyes and walked to Ryan's door. In the distance, I heard a 'bye!'. As I pushed open the door, I saw Ryan sitting in his office chair, eyes pasted onto a hockey book.

"I'm here."

He looked up, smiled, and gestured to a seat in front of him. I sat.

"So, Katie, decided to join me to grill the suspect after all, huh?"

"Katelyn. My name is Katelyn." I snapped. He was really starting to get on my nerves.

"Oh, come on, Katie. You can't tell me your parents never called you that."

"They called me Katelyn."

"I'm calling you Katie. Deal." He said, green eyes sparkling with playfulness. I shook my head.

"Whatever."

"C'mon, Katie! You can call me by a nickname!" He said, lower lip pouting. I sighed.

"Ryan, you can't have a nickname, it wouldn't make sense."

"Call me Ry-Ry!" He laughed. I took him seriously.

"Okay, Ry-Ry."

"Deal. Sounds good to me."

Ryan got to his feet and walked around to my chair. He held out a hand. Sighing dramatically, I grabbed it, and he helped my to my feet. We walked side by side to the interrogation room, Ryan all smiles, me all frowns. As we reached the black door, Ryan pulled it open and allowed me to enter first.

Inside the room sat a man at a single, metal table. A glass of water sat in front of him. Pablo Tacolini. Ryan ushered me to one of the two seats in the room, his hand brushing the small of my back. Goosebumps raised the hair on my arms. I internally growled at myself. I wasn't supposed to let Ryan the jackass get to me.

As we sat, Tacolini looked up to us. He smiled a smile I won't soon forget. His two upper incisors were missing, as were another two of his bottom teeth. His eyes tilted at a funny angle, lips a little lopsided as they curled up. I shuddered in my head.

"Mr. Tacolini, I'm Special Agent Ryan Carr, and this here is my partner," I shook my head and rolled my eyes, "Dr. Katie Amos."

"Katelyn. My name is Katelyn." I whispered exasperatedly. Ryan gave me The Look. I shut up. Tacolini smiled again.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Agent Carr, Dr. Amos." His accent was so heavy, I could barely understand him. Ryan nodded.

"Mr. Tacolini, you do know why you're here today, right?" Ryan asked, opening a file he'd brought on the table in front of him. Tacolini let out a chuckle.

"Of course, Agent Carr. You people believe I killed this Remy girl." He drawled, placing a hand on the table. I felt like screaming in disgust. This Remy girl. Was that all she was? Just another casualty? Ryan nodded.

"Mr. Tacolini, we have reason to believe that prior to Ms. Hadley's death, you had spent a lot of time around her home. Is this true?" He asked, titling his head while he waited for an answer.

Tacolini shook his head. "This is not true. Where you learned this from, I do not know, but it is a lie."

"Mr. Tacolini, we were told by Remy's mother herself that a man matching your physical description was seen lurking about their home for two week's prior to her death." Ryan said. I could tell his patience was already wearing thin.

"Agent Carr, there are plenty of people matching my description here in Canada. You are a multicultural country." Tacolini shrugged. I sighed. Ryan dropped the nice cop routine.

"Where were you the night of April 8th, 2010?"

"I believe I was at home, reading To Kill a Mockingbird."

Ryan jotted something down on a notepad. "Is there anyone able to confirm your whereabouts that evening?"

"No. But I'm sure, Agent Carr, that you believe me."

Ryan nodded his head dramatically. "Oh, Mr. Tacolini, I can assure you that I have complete faith in your ability to tell the truth."

Tacolini smiled. "I'm glad." He said, equally as dramatically. He turned to me, and my breath caught in my throat. I was facing a possible killer, "And you, Dr., what do you have to ask me?"

"Sir, I'd appreciate it if you left my partner alone." Ryan said, suddenly protective. I held up a hand to stop him.

"Mr. Tacolini, did you know Remy Hadley at all? Go to the same church as her, go to the restaurant she worked at? Anything?" I asked. There had to be some way that these two people knew each other.

"No, Dr. Amos. I do not believe I have ever seen this woman in my life. She is not familiar at all."

I sighed and looked to Ryan. He nodded.

"Mr. Tacolini, that you for your time. We'll be in touch."

When the door closed behind Ryan and I, he looked at me.

"He's bullshitting us. He does know her."

I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

Ryan looked at me. "I just know. My gut says so."

I rolled my eyes. Ryan's gut told him lots of things. Especially when he needed to go to the bathroom.

"Whatever. You can't prove anything based on what your intestines say."

Ryan shook his head at my usual joke over his 'gut', "Hey, wanna go grab some dinner, Katie?"

I was about to respond with a scathing 'no' when my phone buzzed. I looked down at the screen to read the text.

"Katie? Anyone in there? I asked if you wanted to go grab some dinner."

I looked up at him, "It's going to have to wait, Ryan. They found another body."

x-x-x

Richard was looking over the remains when I entered Autopsy Room 4 decked out in blue scrubs. I pulled on a pair of latex gloves as I spoke.

"Hey Richard."

Richard looked up, "Hey Katelyn, I'm just looking over the remains. I'll have Cassandra clean them and remove the flesh for you when I'm done."

I nodded. "Mind if I watch?" I asked, gesturing at the other side of the autopsy table. Richard smiled.

"Sure thing."

Richard Carlisle was technically my boss. A forensic pathologist for the FBI, he'd been working here for just about the same amount of time as I. I'd known Richard for high school, and when he'd come to work for the Geffersonian, I was pleased to work with him. He was an extremely nice guy, and was very good at what he did, something I respected. The one thing I hated more than people chewing with their mouths open, was people who didn't know how to do their job properly.

I walked to the other side of the table, glancing down at the body. Laying there was an extremely decomposed corpse of what I could only guess was a woman. Rags of clothing lay across the body, covering pale, decomposed flesh. The smell, though not as overbearing as I thought, was fetid and sickly sweet, a sign of recent death. I watched as Richard took skin and DNA samples. And then I saw it.

Like Remy Hadley's body, this one was missing its head. One thing ran through my mind.

We have a serial killer on the loose.

"There seems to be some stab marks around the ribcage and the collarbones." Richard said quietly, looking up at me. I leaned over to take my own look. Sure enough, several stab marks were placed randomly about the victim's upper torso. Just like with Remy. I could see the little ends of the ribs peeking through the bits of flesh remaining on the body.

Richard carried on with the autopsy while I thought things over.

Did we really have a serial killer on our hands? Or was this case and the Hadl\ey case just a crazy coincidence? It didn't seem likely that two women would show up dead in two weeks with the same injuries, and just be coincidental. Then again, I hadn't yet had a chance to look over the bones. I'd have to wait before I determined what we were dealing with.

I looked up and Richard's eyes met mine, "I'm positive that cause of death was due to these stab wounds."

I nodded. "So you're done?"

Richard nodded in response. "I'll get Cassandra to clean up the Bones."

I stripped my gloves of and threw them into the waste basket as Cassandra walked in. Cassandra was one of my more...peppy interns. I loved her to bits, but sometimes she was a handful. She caught my eye and smiled.

"Good morning, Dr. Amos!" She said sweetly. I smiled back, trying not to let my growing concern over my victim's connection show.

"Good morning, Cassy."

"How would you like the flesh removed?" She asked, looking at the corpse. I looked at it myself.

"Boiling would be best, I suppose. You can page me when the bones are ready."

Cassandra nodded and zipped up the body bag that the remains were lying in, and pushed the table through the morgue doors and into the anthropology lab. I looked to Richard. He looked back.

"You've got some similarities to the Hadley case with that one." He remarked. I nodded.

"I know. I just hope we're not dealing with a serial killer here."

"I agree." He said solemnly, "Serial cases are...spooky. People get hurt."

It was true. A year ago, the Geffersonian had lost one of the best interns we'd had, Stephanie Murray, to a serial killer that we'd let get too close. I wasn't prepared to make that mistake again.

"Watch yourself, Katelyn. If this is a serial case, we can't loose another one. Keep yourself safe." He said. And with that warning, he pulled off his gloves, waved, and left the morgue, autopsy report in hand.

I grabbed my own form and headed to my office, getting ready for the job that would soon await.
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