"Merv,” Nancy replied, "I have it on good authority the FBI has brought in their own crime units for this one. Through cross regional analysis, they are able to identify similarities between crimes scenes dating back several decades. They think the Jackie O killer has been killing far longer than originally believed. One agent, FBI Special Agent Robert Weathers, has been tracking cold cases and trying to link them by several modalities to crimes all over the United States. He believes she has been killing for at least the last 5 years, and he suspects much longer. He is working closely with a criminal profiler to try to compile a suspect list. As of this moment, there are no leads."
Once inside, he pinned me against the wall, lifting me up and against him at the same time. He entered me with force, and I thrust against him with the same intensity. He kissed my neck and I came to him almost immediately. That was all he needed and when he climaxed I felt the force of his ejaculation inside of me. It was so thrilling an orgasm waved through my body so quickly I couldn't breathe. It was everything I could do not to scream out. He held me tightly and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me into the bedroom. He laid me down gently as if I weighed nothing at all. He pressed a button and some soft jazz decorated the room. He covered my face in butterfly kisses, stopping on my neck. His tongue licked the bottom side of my neck, sending tremors throughout my body. He caressed my skin, undressing me as he went. I was so relaxed I could have fallen asleep. He was a patient and tender lover. I returned his touches, undressing him, too.
We made love a second time, slowly, each searching the body of the other, finishing in each other's arms. I felt at complete peace, a feeling I have never experienced before. I felt safe in his arms, yet saddened knowing this night would be all I could have. I needed to finish the evaluations for tomorrow and return the body to her. I couldn't let her know him as I have; he would not live when she was done with him. I didn't want to leave. I savored the moment as long as I could before I rose to get dressed. Landau was sound asleep. I guess it's for the best, the goodbye would be awkward. I stared down at his beautiful face, dusted in the moonlight. My heart ached for him. I have to leave, I know I have to leave, but I don't want to. Never have I felt such longing for one more touch. I bent over him and stroked his hair. If this is love, then maybe I'm glad I'm not a real person after all. If it hurts this bad to leave him after a few hours, imagine how it would hurt to lose him forever. I gathered up my things, leaving the bedroom. The flowers he sent me were in the sitting room, perfectly arranged. I never saw the staff deliver them. I paused at the vase, inhaling their fragrant aroma. I picked out the prettiest ones so I could enjoy this night a while longer. I still had her body until tomorrow night. With that, I slipped away, away from Landau, away from love, away from a life I could never dare to dream.
I walked through the hotel in a daze. This wasn't right! It didn't feel right! I was the one who knew how to live life, she ran away from it. If anyone deserved happiness it was me, after all I have done to protect her and the others over the years. She kills people! Who have I harmed? Doesn't good triumph over evil? Am I not good? Even as I knew the reasons why I had to return the body to her, I couldn't help but to lament my so called life. Life isn't always fair, and when you have only a fraction of a life it is even less so. Worse, there was not a soul I could share my sorrows with. I had no friends to call. Suddenly, I felt more alone than I knew her to be when I set up her Facebook page. By the time I reached my car, tears were streaming down my face. I sobbed the rest of the way home.
Landau Wakes Up Alone
He stretched out all the way to his toes. Late nights are getting harder to wake up from the next day; he's not twenty anymore. Landau let out a bear yawn and inhaled the musty smell of sex into his lungs. A morning hard-on sprung to life as he thought about last night. There was the hint of her perfume lingering just over the musty air. It was a sophisticated scent with floral overtones and earthy undertones. Complex, just like she is. He stroked himself as he stumbled into the bathroom for a morning piss. The $300.00 a bottle champagne he drank last night forced its way out in a steady stream to the toilet. Morning hard-ons aren't like they used to be when he was twenty, either. One piss and it's over. Getting older is a bitch and then you die. What a life, what a mother fucking life this is. He stepped into the shower and cranked up the ice cold water. Whoa! That is one way to wake up and kill any thoughts about sex. His skin bubbled up into a carpet of goosebumps, and he shivered as the beads of water hit him like tiny soft ice cubes. It felt good, invigorating. The cloud in his head was starting to clear and his mind came back to the work at hand.
Landau finished with a warm shower, stepping out into the cooler air in the bathroom. He started to dry off when he heard his phone ringing at bedside. His heart leaped, maybe Sherrie is calling. It was a stupid, silly thought, the thought a giddy school girl would entertain and not the thought of a world traveled, high profile criminal behavioralist. Sherrie couldn't possibly have the number. Still, he remained cautiously optimistic until he saw "Stormy" written across the cell. She has gotten under Landau's skin. Let the games begin, he thought.
"Fuck, can't you let a guy finish his shower?" He grumbled at Stormy. "Jesus Christ, I haven't had my coffee yet." Disappointment edged his tone.
"Landau, when did you turn into a pussy? We have work to do and no time to waste. I've found more victims, and I worked half the night putting together a timeline of her work. You won't fucking believe it, I'm telling you are going to be fucking blown away. This is bigger than anything we have ever encountered before and I have it going back ten years. Ten fucking years! She's been killing at least ten years!" There was an excitement in Stormy's voice Landau knew well. This was the man he knew, the man he once respected. He has come back to the land of the living. Now if I can keep the political vultures from claiming the investigation as their own, there might be hope for my old friend yet, Landau thought with satisfaction.
"All right, Stormy, hold up. You say she's been killing for ten years?" All the cobwebs were gone and his mind sprung into a honed clarity, focused and narrow in scope. "Really? Are you sure? What do you have?" Landau fired back.
"Landau, open your door." Stormy said.
Landau pulled the towel around his waist and went through the sitting room. Her flowers were still on the table. He paused to inhale the fragrance, as if to capture the feeling of her silky skin against his body once more. He noticed an empty spot slightly off center. She took a couple flowers with her. Maybe she didn't blow him off after all. She took something to serve as a reminder of last night. He wondered if she was thinking of him.
"Landau! I'm not waiting here all day, open the door!" Stormy was getting impatient.
"Goddamn Stormy! I'm coming." Landau barely unlocked the door before Stormy barreled in the room, carrying a case file box. Stormy set it on the table, knocking the flowers off to the side. They teetered a moment and Landau reached to steady them. His towel fell to the floor.
"Landau, Jesus Christ man, put some clothes on. We sure as hell haven't grown that close. I'm just not feeling it. All these years I thought you were a ladies man. I didn't know you played for the home team." Stormy chuckled as Landau grabbed his towel, glaring back.
"Keep talking while I get dressed, will you?" Landau walked off into the bedroom. He didn't want Stormy to see he was upset with him for almost knocking the flowers over. It was the only reminder he had that Sherrie was really here last night. He made a mental note to check with the bartender to see if Sherrie might be a regular downstairs at the bar. If she was, he could catch up with her later.
Sherrie Wants Her Own Life