Silent: A serial killer story

Collins sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. The missing persons' reports from the past month didn't reveal any clear leads. No other victims seemed to match the gruesome M.O. of "The Owl."

His office was dimly lit, the only light on his face was the laptop and from a lamp on his desk. Stack of paper and files were scattered all around the room.

The door opened. Hensley came in with coffee and a bag of one donut. He placed it on Collins' desk and sat down beside him, looking at one file.

"Did you sleep?" 

Hensley asked as he flipped through the pages of the file and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Not really. I looked through seventy-six missing cases and whenever they were found—dead — it was suicide or it didn't match the M.O.," Collins said, clearly tired of a night's worth of research. 

"I brought you a coffee and donut from 'Lay's Coffee'. It's cheap and quality," Hensley pointed at the paper bag with the donut. "Hope you're not allergic to nuts." 

Collins glanced at the bag, a faint smile tugging on his lips. "Not allergic, thanks for the heads up though." He takes the bags and opens it and the aroma of a freshly baked donut hits his face like a truck.

"Lay's coffee you said? Never heard of it," Collins remarks as he takes a bite of the donut.

"That's because you aren't a true Ridgewood local yet," Hensley replies with a smirk. "When you become a local, you know exactly where a eery cheap place in the city is."

Collins chuckles as he placed the donut back in the bag and took a sip of his coffee. "I've found something interesting about the murders of Mia Carter and Bob Grant."

"And what is that?" Hensley asked, leaning in with curiosity.

"On September 15th 2014 which was last month Mia Carter and Bob Grant apparently met each other outside the coffee shop where she worked." Collins turned to his computer and showed him the footage. "It was caught on the CCTV..."

Hensley looked closer and saw them talking to each other. "Looks like they're talking about something and they look... worried."

"Yes, but unluckily, the footage did not capture any audio and we can't really read their lips." 

"So they knew each other at least briefly." He squinted at the screen, trying to see if he could find anything. "Now the million dollar question is why were they so worried?"

"We don't know. I went through all their call records and they have talked only a few times. From what I have seen and heard they were romantically attracted to each other," Collins said as he leaned back.

"We only have that lead?..." Hensley sighed. "We better dig deeper into both of their lives before that Owl kills more people."

Elli from forensics the burst into the room with a file, he rushes to Collins and Hensley and slams the file down of the desk. 

"The blood splatter on the plastic wrap was from two different sources," Elli announced, her voice urgent. "One belongs to Bob Grant, the victim. The other? It's from an unidentified individual—possibly the killer or someone else involved."

Collins leaned forward, grabbing the file and scanning the pages. "Unidentified... Do we at least know their blood type?"

"Type AB-negative," Elli replied, crossing her arms. "It's rare. Only about 1% of the population has it. This could narrow down the suspect pool significantly."

Hensley whistled low. "Well, that's something. Have we run it through CODIS?"

Elli nodded. "Already in progress. If this person has a record, we'll know soon enough."

Collins frowned, flipping through the report. "This could mean two things. Either the killer got sloppy and injured themselves during the murder, or there's an accomplice we don't know about."

"An accomplice?" Hensley raised an eyebrow. "You think 'The Owl's got a squirrel?"

Collins leaned back, tapping the file with his pen. "It's possible. The precision of these murders suggests someone meticulous—someone who plans every detail is a mastermind. But even the most careful masterminds make mistakes. This blood might be a slip up from the f***ker."

Elli added, "There's one more thing. The plastic wrap used to cover the body—it's industrial-grade. The kind you'd find in construction sites or warehouses, not something you'd pick up at a grocery store."

"So they have access to a warehouse or work in construction," Hensley mused, his mind already running through possibilities. "And there's a chance 'The f***ker' has business."

Collins stood, grabbing his coat. "Elli, keep us updated on the CODIS results. Hensley, let's check out the café from the CCTV footage. If Mia and Bob were meeting there regularly, someone might have noticed them, a coworker or another regular."

"And what if they didn't?" Hensley asked, grabbing his coffee.

Collins paused for a moment. "Then we go back to square one and keep digging. But something tells me there's more to this than two random victims. If they were romantically involved, as the call records suggest, we need to find out who else knew about them."

Hensley smirked, following Collins out the door. "Always the optimist, huh?"

"More like a realist," Collins shot back. "But if we don't act fast, this Owl will keep killing—and I'm not about to let that happen."

As they exited the precinct, Elli called out, "I'll let you know the second I have a match!"

The two detectives headed for the café, their minds racing with questions. They would not let 'The Owl' kill another innocent person again.

******

Daniel was sitting as usual at the middle front desk, to his left Ronnel Banks and to his right, Aren Greene, the black-haired and green-eyed, stupid one of the group.

The cops should have found out about their connection, probably already on their way to the café. How delightful. Daniel thought with a subtle smirk and was barely noticeable. 

"Dude... did you do your homework?" Aren said, leaning into Dan's side. Daniel gave Aren an amused look with a smirk.

"Of course I did." Daniel pulls out his homework sheet from the bag and placed in neatly on the top-left side of his desk. "You didn't as expected."

Aren rolled his eyes at Daniel and looked at Ron. "How' bout you?"

"What do you expect, mister Greene?" Ron pulled out his homework sheet and showed to Aren and placed it on the table.

"Dude, what the f***k Mrs McCarter always gives us homework I can't finish it."

Daniel leaned back in his chair, amused at Aren's frustrated self. "Well, if you didn't send the entire evening and night playing COD and focus on your homework, you could finish it."

Aren groaned, slumping dramatically over his desk. "It's not my fault Mrs. McCarter is out to get me. Who assigns a six-hundred word essay for one night? That's borderline criminal!"

Ron adjusts his glasses, his expression slightly amused. "Try to not play video games until 4 A.M. I mean, yesterday you slept today because you slept in 4 A.M."

Daniel chuckled at the Ron's jab. "Ron's got a point. If you keep going like this, there is the slightest chance you'll drag us down with you."

 "I will drag you two down?" Aren asked in disbelief. "That's like saying you two are cannibals, which is not true."

"I said the slightest chance, which is one percent with a few dozen zeros in front of it." 

As Aren opened his mouth to retort, the classroom door creaked open, and Mrs. McCarter strode in with a file and laptop in her hand and her signature smile.

"Good morning, class," she said, placing the file and her laptop on the desk and scanning the room. Her gaze lingered on Aren for a moment, as if she already suspected his homework wasn't done.

Aren sank into his chair, muttering under his breath, "Here we go."

Mrs. McCarter began her usual routine, collecting homework sheets row by row. As she approached their desk, Aren hastily scribbled something on a blank sheet of paper, hoping it would pass for an attempt.

Daniel watched the pathetic effort with mild amusement, sliding his completed homework toward the edge of the desk. "You're really not going to get away with that, you know," he whispered.

Aren ignored him, offering Mrs. McCarter a sheepish grin as she collected his "work." She didn't even look at it before sighing and moving on.

Ron smirked at Aren. "Another zero for the collection, huh?"

"Shut the f***k up," Aren hissed, slumping further in his chair.

Daniel looked around the place and saw someone outside a tenth grader. He looks about 17, has curly brown hair and a slight beard. He looks about half American and half Arab and he is quite tall. I wonder how long he will take to die; he thought to himself 

His eyes lingered outside on the boy for a good while, looking at all of his friends and all his actions before turning his head back to the class, a faint smile tugging on the corners of the lips.

Something terrible but very fun is going to happen as soon as the bell for lunch rings.