Chapter 3: The Criminology Student
The high from saving Janice Culverwell didn't last as long as I'd hoped. A little over a week had passed before I found myself staring out of windows as dusk turned to night, which I only ever did when thoughts of Cindy overtook my brain. She had loved sunsets. She used to practically yank my arm out of its socket in her excitement, pulling me onto her perch on the roof most nights to watch the purple and orange clouds give way to the handful of stars that were visible from our suburban backyard. I bit back a scream of frustration. I couldn't let myself get distracted like this.
It was the Pickering girl's fault. Ever since Jon told me about his adopted kids…about Cindy…I couldn't stop wondering if anything could have been done differently. If only, if only. If only the one person in the world who loved me hadn't had to die. I hated the "if only" game. My brain liked to play it when I was most vulnerable and if I didn't head it off, it would take months before I was "normal" again. I couldn't help but chuckle at the notion that I had ever been normal.
The front door slammed open into the wall. "Loriiiiiiii," Faye moaned. "Heeeeeeeeelp."
I couldn't be maudlin around Faye. She didn't know anything about my past. Or my present, really, but that's beside the point. I shook my face and arms like the warmups from my high school drama class and took a deep breath before stepping into the entryway. "What's up?"
The words were halfway out of my mouth when I realized the problem. What little was visible of my roommate could barely be discerned from behind a giant stack of boxes.
"Take something! Anything!" she begged. "My arms are about to fall off!"
I swooped in to relieve her of half the boxes. "What is all this stuff?"
"You know how I'm getting my master's in criminology?" she puffed.
"No, Faye, I had no clue you were studying criminology. It's not like you ever talk about it."
She shot me a look. "Don't give me that sarcastic eyebrow, Loretta Latham. That is a perfectly normal statement for someone to make when giving background info."
I leaned against the table, made a placating gesture, and indicated that she should go on. That many boxes had to have a good story.
"Anyway, I'm working on my thesis about the rising crime rates and during my research I noticed something suspicious. Well, a few suspicious things. More criminals than regular people are getting mugged and murdered!"
My heart rate spiked and I almost lost my grip on the table. "What?" I croaked.
"I know! First I noticed that there were a whole lot more muggings over the past few years compared to other cities around Richmond's size, which was weird on its own, but then I checked into the victims' backgrounds and found that almost all of them were criminals! Sex offenders, drug addicts, you name it. What are the odds of so many types of criminals getting killed in back alleys? I thought it might be gang-related but there aren't any reports indicating changing gang activities…"
A dull roar in my ears blocked out most of her words. My breath hitched in my throat. HOW?! I almost screamed. I had been so careful! Of all the things that could possibly nail me, how could it be my best friend's master's thesis? I couldn't have possibly left enough evidence to tie me to the murders. I never used the same gun or even same type of shot twice and occasionally switched it up with stabbing or strangulation. My alibis were airtight. I had no connection to any of these people, none! Except…Cindy. I had a connection to Cindy. But that had happened thousands of miles from here! They couldn't possibly link me to the scum who hurt Cindy.
"…there have also been a weird amount of people dying during surgery in local hospitals, but I only take note of that because most of these people are criminals too. Maybe I should include something in my thesis about how crime rates are increasing even though the criminals seem to keep dying…"
I was two seconds from hyperventilating. Breathe…BREATHE. Blood oozed from punctures in my palms. Fingernails. I dug my fingernails in too hard. I couldn't wipe the blood on my pants, Faye would see. Faye. She had to keep talking. If she stopped, she would notice I was freaking out. Breathe. Breathe. Focus. You can focus. You are safe, I told myself sternly. You are perfectly fine. My heart rate slowed a little.
"…I don't know if this is related, but there have also been a lot of cat burglaries in big office buildings. The businesses are taking huge hits but there aren't any suspects because the businesses are all so different. There isn't any overlap. If I were with the police I'd start looking…"
She doesn't know. She couldn't know. I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe. "That's fascinating, Faye. Where did you find this stuff?"
She paused in her monologue long enough to see what I hoped was a convincing look of nonchalance on my face. "The police department lets criminology grad students look at some of their data. I think some of the professors have friends on the force." A note of pride crept into her voice. "I'm the only one who noticed any kind of pattern though. My adviser was so impressed she let me take a bunch of these files home to keep looking."
If I destroyed the files, Faye would get in trouble. Or they would trace it back to me. I needed a plan. I could come up with a plan! I was good at plans. Usually.
"You go girl," I feigned happiness at her success. Why did she have to be so clever? Why did my best friend have to be the one who almost figured me out?
"I know, right? I'm so excited to dive into these boxes! I'm sure I'll find something to help the police. I might even get extra credit or be able to add it to my resume or something." Faye rambled on happily while my world fell apart.
What could I do? If I killed Faye to get her off my trail the police would certainly question me first, as her roommate. If they dug too deep…kill Faye?! What was I thinking? I couldn't kill Faye! She was the only person in the world that even fractionally mattered to me. No matter what happened, I could never hurt Faye. I'd die first. But if I was dead, who would carry on my mission to save children?
Something clicked in my brain that hadn't before. More criminals than usual were dying. Even in hospitals. I had nothing to do with that. All of my victims were gone long before they could make it to a hospital. Was this a coincidence or was it possible that there was someone else like me out there? Someone getting rid of the scum of the world? Someone who cared about protecting others? Whoever that someone was, they needed to be warned. Maybe we could figure out how to redirect Faye and the police together. A plan. At least, part of a plan. I could go from there. My heart started beating normally again.
"Faye, I'm really interested in your research," I said convincingly. "Could you tell me more about those hospital trends?"
That was the easy part. Faye was blessed with the gift of gab and when someone showed interest in something she had to say, she could go on forever. Two hours later, I had the information I needed to get started. Dates, times, locations. Whoever this was clearly didn't spend all their time in the same hospital because the trend popped up in three different medical institutions across the city. I would need to cross reference people who worked at all three places on the dates and times in question. Hopefully then I could find my ally. Finding him or her before Faye was the real problem.
Weekly Power Status
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