Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Miss Jackson
Chapter 3: Jenny Was A Friend of Mine
Leaning against a bumpy, red brick wall with a cigarette between her lips, Valerie blew out a cloud of cobweb smoke that lingered in the air for only moments before dissipating and forming part of the air we breathe carelessly every day.
Gazing out at the street with emerald-washed eyes, the woman felt something beyond sorrow for the young girls that were leaning into the windows of cars, dressed skimpily. A pang of empathy struck her right through, reminding her that once upon a time, she had been one of those girls who sold herself for money.
Valerie had let herself drown so deep in the melancholic, silent bubble she had formed around herself, she didn't even feel her cigarette slip from her fingers.
"It's heartbreaking, eh?" Mat's voice rang in Valerie's ears as he slumped back against the wall.
"I hate seeing them like that. Their lives are handing their bodies over on a silver platter to some pervy 40-year-old for drugs and booze. What's the point, Mat? What's the point in living such an awful life?" Tears were glazing the woman's eyes as she stared pensively out at the smoggy road, biting at her nude lip.
"They have nothing left, I guess." Letting out a held breath accompanied by a plume of smoke, the elder shrugged.
"Anyway, the boss lady wants us all back inside soon." Forcing a half-smile onto his lips, Mat looked down, trying to avoid the urge to wrap his arms round Valerie and tell her everything was going to be alright when he saw a single crystal tear slide down her cheek, bringing along some mascara and eyeliner for the ride.
"You okay?" Tone softening, Mat brushed the tear away, pad of his thumb sliding gently across the younger woman's pale flesh. Shaking her head, the walls Valerie had built up around herself collapsed.
Exposing her torn-up, scratched interior had never been easy for the 20-year-old FBI agent. Often enough, Valerie had a hard time coming to terms with what she had done. When she looked at the prostitutes that hung in the corners, Valerie Middlesboro saw herself, dressed in fishnets and thigh highs, doing filthy things for equally filthy money, passed from hand to hand to hand without a second thought of where it would end up. A chill ran through her spine when she thought of the lines of cocaine she had snorted, and for what? What was the purpose of damaging one's life in such a way?
Valerie's seams were being broken apart as she sobbed profusely into Mat's coat. All the male could do was wrap his arms round her frail form, enveloping her in the warmth he always seemed to possess. Pushing a lock of her fuchsia-dyed hair back behind her ear, Valerie glanced up at Mat, face a contorted concoction of pain and hatred, biting at her lip.
"Val, tell me if something's wrong, okay? I don't wanna see you hurting anymore." Running his fingers through her messy hair, the elder sighed slightly, one hand moving down to grip Valerie's. The woman wiped away her tears, and together, they made their way to work, hands entwined.
**
"Well, well, well, THIS is fucked up." Shaking his head, Nate crossed his arms over his chest as he flicked his gaze round the theme park, groaning none-too-quietly. Elbowing his brother in the ribs, Mat stepped forward, shaking his head as his eyes fell upon the body.
"Jenny Donahue," Jay read from a clipboard, shaking her head before letting off a soft, almost inaudible sigh laced with the telltale signs of exhaustion. "Porn star."
"So our unsub is definitely targeting porn stars," Mat commented as he pulled a pair of latex gloves on, nibbling at his lip.
"Clearly," Valerie nodded, surveying the grotesque scene laid before her.
Jenny Donahue's body was sprawled in a brightly-colored Ferris Wheel car, legs spread to expose her naked flesh to any passers-by. Her throat was slit, crimson blood spilling down her pale skin and pooling beneath her lifeless frame. What made the scene so grotesque, however, was the slit in Jenny's stomach, and how her intestines had been pulled out and unraveled to wrap tightly round her neck.
"Totally sick," Nate hissed, shaking his head furiously.
"Agreed." Stepping back, Mat's eyes widened before a smirk formed on his lips. In moments, the male had bent down and now had a black guitar plectrum clutched between his fingers.
**
"If it's actually him killing, he's one sick fuck," Valerie growled. Her emerald eyes shone with a dark fury, hands clenching and unclenching. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks embedded in the pale skin.
"Val, calm down." Peeking at the woman over the top of his sunglasses, Mat let a low chuckle escape his lips.
"There's a murderer on the loose, and you're laughing."
"I'm laughing at you."
"Piss off, York."
A moment of silence ensued - anyone could tell that both offending parties were holding back laughter. He gave out within seconds, and the hearty sound of Tasmanian laughter filled the black car the pair were travelling in. Scowling, Valerie threw a punch at the clothed skin of Mat's forearm.
"I hate you, y'know that?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Valerie rolled her eyes lightly.
"Didn't say that when you were hugging me, now, didja?" One eyebrow raising, Mat cast a sideways glance towards the pink-haired woman.
"A-about that." Valerie's voice faltered, breaking just a little on her first word. "Please don't tell anyone about that."
"The crying?"
"Not the crying."
"The fact I hugged you, saw you crying and actually had an emotional moment with a usually cold-hearted bitch?" An air of amusement hung in Mat's voice.
"Bingo, you're a winner."
**
Knocking at Alex Alberts' door, Mat had formed an image of his unsub - beyond tall, muscly to the point of looking creepy, crew cut, weird and meaningless tattoos. The Tasmanian was pleasantly surprised when a wiry, lanky man yanked the door open. With a quick glance, Mat could tell this guy hasn't been reading the paper before they knocked - with messy hair, his shirt on backwards, a faint smear of something round his blown-up, shiny lips, Alex looked like he'd been having a fun time.
"Alex Alberts, this is the FBI, I'm Agent York and this is Agent Middlesboro. We'd like to ask you some questions." As he spoke, the male dropped the pitch of his voice, almost as if to appear intimidating. Apparently it worked, if the flash of extreme fear that flitted in Alberts' eyes was anything to go by. Nodding, he pulled the door open, allowing the two BAU agents inside.
His house was, to put it simply, a mess. With guitar plectrums, sheet music, and empty take-away containers littering the floor, Valerie was almost certain that this was the unsub they were after. The only thing that still bit in the back of her mind was, those murders are too clean and organized to be done by a guy like this, his home is so messy and untidy.
As Alex lead the pair into his living room, a distinctly male voice echoed from the bedroom.
"Who is it, kitten?"
Eyes darting back over to the agents, Alex bit at his thin lip, shaking his head for a moment before sprinting back up the hall, and into his bedroom. Quietly closing the door behind him, he made a quick advance towards the man spread out on his bed.
"Babe, it's the FBI."
"Shit! You didn't kill anyone, did you?"
"This is me we're talking about, I couldn't kill a fly." A frustrated huff accompanied Alex's words.
Pulling a blanket over his boyfriend's body, Alex took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He still had no idea why the FBI were currently sitting on his lumpy couch, he hadn't done anything wrong - had he?
Slowly but surely, he made his way back to the living room, body shaking violently. When he reached the living room, he let the muscles in his body relax, falling back against his chair with a thump.
"Mr. Alberts, did you know Victoria Brooke?" Holding up a photo, Valerie raised an eyebrow. Alex looked up from his lap to the photo, and let out a gasp.
"T-that's my ex-girlfriend. U-um, we broke up when she found out I liked dick." A nervous chuckle tagged along with Alex's statement as he brushed his hand nervously through his hair.
"Did you know Jenny Donahue?" Mat held up a photo this time, to be met with the same response.
"Jenny was a friend of mine," he murmured, eyes wide and fearful. "Has something happened to them?"
"Alex, I know it may come as a shock, but Victoria and Jenny are dead, and we need you to tell us about them, so we can find whoever did this." Leaning forwards, Valerie searched the male's eyes for clues - she came up empty-handed, all she found was sorrow, fear, and extreme shock in his plain green eyes.
"Well, uh, Victoria's current boyfriend got real mad when he found out what she did for a living.. He beat her up for it. He said if she ever did it again, he'd kill her, but he can't be serious, right? Please t-tell me I'm right! Vicky can't be dead!" With tumultuous words escaping his lips, Alex looked every part the deer caught in the headlights. Biting hard at her lip, Valerie stifled a soft sigh.
"Victoria is certainly dead. Did she have any enemies, anyone who wanted her gone?"
Alex took another few deep inhales.
"Well, after we broke up, she stayed in contact, and she kept telling me about this chick who really didn't like her, at all - um, shit, I can't remember her name. There was her boyfriend, and, uh, that's it." Wringing his hands, Alex tried to stop the flood of tears springing behind his eyes.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Alberts." Standing up, the pair left, a wide grin stretching out over both their lips.
**
"Not gonna lie, you looked pretty hot back there, telling a guy his ex was killed," Mat commented cheekily as the two made their way back to their vehicle. Rolling her eyes, Valerie paused, fishing a box of cigarettes from her pocket.
"No biggie," she chuckled, leaning back against the wall to light her cancer stick. Smirking just lightly, Mat stood in front of her, hand pressed flat against the wall. His nimble fingers wrapped round her cigarette, yanking it away before pressing his lips none-too-romantically to hers.
It wasn't a sweet, romantic, lovely kiss where Valerie's foot popped and love hung inevitably in the air, it was a hot, desperate, needy kiss. Mat's lip ring clashed against Valerie's own as the two let their minds drift away. Just as Mat had allowed his hands the freedom to travel to Valerie's hips, her phone rang, and loudly too. Pulling away, she groaned.
"What is it? Another- fuck, okay. We'll be back in 10 minutes, tops."
As Valerie shoved her phone back into her pocket, she pulled Mat in for another searing kiss, before murmuring.
"Two more bodies, loverboy."
Leaning against a bumpy, red brick wall with a cigarette between her lips, Valerie blew out a cloud of cobweb smoke that lingered in the air for only moments before dissipating and forming part of the air we breathe carelessly every day.
Gazing out at the street with emerald-washed eyes, the woman felt something beyond sorrow for the young girls that were leaning into the windows of cars, dressed skimpily. A pang of empathy struck her right through, reminding her that once upon a time, she had been one of those girls who sold herself for money.
Valerie had let herself drown so deep in the melancholic, silent bubble she had formed around herself, she didn't even feel her cigarette slip from her fingers.
"It's heartbreaking, eh?" Mat's voice rang in Valerie's ears as he slumped back against the wall.
"I hate seeing them like that. Their lives are handing their bodies over on a silver platter to some pervy 40-year-old for drugs and booze. What's the point, Mat? What's the point in living such an awful life?" Tears were glazing the woman's eyes as she stared pensively out at the smoggy road, biting at her nude lip.
"They have nothing left, I guess." Letting out a held breath accompanied by a plume of smoke, the elder shrugged.
"Anyway, the boss lady wants us all back inside soon." Forcing a half-smile onto his lips, Mat looked down, trying to avoid the urge to wrap his arms round Valerie and tell her everything was going to be alright when he saw a single crystal tear slide down her cheek, bringing along some mascara and eyeliner for the ride.
"You okay?" Tone softening, Mat brushed the tear away, pad of his thumb sliding gently across the younger woman's pale flesh. Shaking her head, the walls Valerie had built up around herself collapsed.
Exposing her torn-up, scratched interior had never been easy for the 20-year-old FBI agent. Often enough, Valerie had a hard time coming to terms with what she had done. When she looked at the prostitutes that hung in the corners, Valerie Middlesboro saw herself, dressed in fishnets and thigh highs, doing filthy things for equally filthy money, passed from hand to hand to hand without a second thought of where it would end up. A chill ran through her spine when she thought of the lines of cocaine she had snorted, and for what? What was the purpose of damaging one's life in such a way?
Valerie's seams were being broken apart as she sobbed profusely into Mat's coat. All the male could do was wrap his arms round her frail form, enveloping her in the warmth he always seemed to possess. Pushing a lock of her fuchsia-dyed hair back behind her ear, Valerie glanced up at Mat, face a contorted concoction of pain and hatred, biting at her lip.
"Val, tell me if something's wrong, okay? I don't wanna see you hurting anymore." Running his fingers through her messy hair, the elder sighed slightly, one hand moving down to grip Valerie's. The woman wiped away her tears, and together, they made their way to work, hands entwined.
**
"Well, well, well, THIS is fucked up." Shaking his head, Nate crossed his arms over his chest as he flicked his gaze round the theme park, groaning none-too-quietly. Elbowing his brother in the ribs, Mat stepped forward, shaking his head as his eyes fell upon the body.
"Jenny Donahue," Jay read from a clipboard, shaking her head before letting off a soft, almost inaudible sigh laced with the telltale signs of exhaustion. "Porn star."
"So our unsub is definitely targeting porn stars," Mat commented as he pulled a pair of latex gloves on, nibbling at his lip.
"Clearly," Valerie nodded, surveying the grotesque scene laid before her.
Jenny Donahue's body was sprawled in a brightly-colored Ferris Wheel car, legs spread to expose her naked flesh to any passers-by. Her throat was slit, crimson blood spilling down her pale skin and pooling beneath her lifeless frame. What made the scene so grotesque, however, was the slit in Jenny's stomach, and how her intestines had been pulled out and unraveled to wrap tightly round her neck.
"Totally sick," Nate hissed, shaking his head furiously.
"Agreed." Stepping back, Mat's eyes widened before a smirk formed on his lips. In moments, the male had bent down and now had a black guitar plectrum clutched between his fingers.
**
"If it's actually him killing, he's one sick fuck," Valerie growled. Her emerald eyes shone with a dark fury, hands clenching and unclenching. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks embedded in the pale skin.
"Val, calm down." Peeking at the woman over the top of his sunglasses, Mat let a low chuckle escape his lips.
"There's a murderer on the loose, and you're laughing."
"I'm laughing at you."
"Piss off, York."
A moment of silence ensued - anyone could tell that both offending parties were holding back laughter. He gave out within seconds, and the hearty sound of Tasmanian laughter filled the black car the pair were travelling in. Scowling, Valerie threw a punch at the clothed skin of Mat's forearm.
"I hate you, y'know that?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Valerie rolled her eyes lightly.
"Didn't say that when you were hugging me, now, didja?" One eyebrow raising, Mat cast a sideways glance towards the pink-haired woman.
"A-about that." Valerie's voice faltered, breaking just a little on her first word. "Please don't tell anyone about that."
"The crying?"
"Not the crying."
"The fact I hugged you, saw you crying and actually had an emotional moment with a usually cold-hearted bitch?" An air of amusement hung in Mat's voice.
"Bingo, you're a winner."
**
Knocking at Alex Alberts' door, Mat had formed an image of his unsub - beyond tall, muscly to the point of looking creepy, crew cut, weird and meaningless tattoos. The Tasmanian was pleasantly surprised when a wiry, lanky man yanked the door open. With a quick glance, Mat could tell this guy hasn't been reading the paper before they knocked - with messy hair, his shirt on backwards, a faint smear of something round his blown-up, shiny lips, Alex looked like he'd been having a fun time.
"Alex Alberts, this is the FBI, I'm Agent York and this is Agent Middlesboro. We'd like to ask you some questions." As he spoke, the male dropped the pitch of his voice, almost as if to appear intimidating. Apparently it worked, if the flash of extreme fear that flitted in Alberts' eyes was anything to go by. Nodding, he pulled the door open, allowing the two BAU agents inside.
His house was, to put it simply, a mess. With guitar plectrums, sheet music, and empty take-away containers littering the floor, Valerie was almost certain that this was the unsub they were after. The only thing that still bit in the back of her mind was, those murders are too clean and organized to be done by a guy like this, his home is so messy and untidy.
As Alex lead the pair into his living room, a distinctly male voice echoed from the bedroom.
"Who is it, kitten?"
Eyes darting back over to the agents, Alex bit at his thin lip, shaking his head for a moment before sprinting back up the hall, and into his bedroom. Quietly closing the door behind him, he made a quick advance towards the man spread out on his bed.
"Babe, it's the FBI."
"Shit! You didn't kill anyone, did you?"
"This is me we're talking about, I couldn't kill a fly." A frustrated huff accompanied Alex's words.
Pulling a blanket over his boyfriend's body, Alex took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He still had no idea why the FBI were currently sitting on his lumpy couch, he hadn't done anything wrong - had he?
Slowly but surely, he made his way back to the living room, body shaking violently. When he reached the living room, he let the muscles in his body relax, falling back against his chair with a thump.
"Mr. Alberts, did you know Victoria Brooke?" Holding up a photo, Valerie raised an eyebrow. Alex looked up from his lap to the photo, and let out a gasp.
"T-that's my ex-girlfriend. U-um, we broke up when she found out I liked dick." A nervous chuckle tagged along with Alex's statement as he brushed his hand nervously through his hair.
"Did you know Jenny Donahue?" Mat held up a photo this time, to be met with the same response.
"Jenny was a friend of mine," he murmured, eyes wide and fearful. "Has something happened to them?"
"Alex, I know it may come as a shock, but Victoria and Jenny are dead, and we need you to tell us about them, so we can find whoever did this." Leaning forwards, Valerie searched the male's eyes for clues - she came up empty-handed, all she found was sorrow, fear, and extreme shock in his plain green eyes.
"Well, uh, Victoria's current boyfriend got real mad when he found out what she did for a living.. He beat her up for it. He said if she ever did it again, he'd kill her, but he can't be serious, right? Please t-tell me I'm right! Vicky can't be dead!" With tumultuous words escaping his lips, Alex looked every part the deer caught in the headlights. Biting hard at her lip, Valerie stifled a soft sigh.
"Victoria is certainly dead. Did she have any enemies, anyone who wanted her gone?"
Alex took another few deep inhales.
"Well, after we broke up, she stayed in contact, and she kept telling me about this chick who really didn't like her, at all - um, shit, I can't remember her name. There was her boyfriend, and, uh, that's it." Wringing his hands, Alex tried to stop the flood of tears springing behind his eyes.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Alberts." Standing up, the pair left, a wide grin stretching out over both their lips.
**
"Not gonna lie, you looked pretty hot back there, telling a guy his ex was killed," Mat commented cheekily as the two made their way back to their vehicle. Rolling her eyes, Valerie paused, fishing a box of cigarettes from her pocket.
"No biggie," she chuckled, leaning back against the wall to light her cancer stick. Smirking just lightly, Mat stood in front of her, hand pressed flat against the wall. His nimble fingers wrapped round her cigarette, yanking it away before pressing his lips none-too-romantically to hers.
It wasn't a sweet, romantic, lovely kiss where Valerie's foot popped and love hung inevitably in the air, it was a hot, desperate, needy kiss. Mat's lip ring clashed against Valerie's own as the two let their minds drift away. Just as Mat had allowed his hands the freedom to travel to Valerie's hips, her phone rang, and loudly too. Pulling away, she groaned.
"What is it? Another- fuck, okay. We'll be back in 10 minutes, tops."
As Valerie shoved her phone back into her pocket, she pulled Mat in for another searing kiss, before murmuring.
"Two more bodies, loverboy."
Sign up to rate and review this story