Portion of Chapter Six

Part of chapter six of the ole novel. 

Chapter Six: Acheros

Acheros felt the cold steel rip and tear its way through the object, and it was only a few moments longer before the last strand in the rope was slit, the former bonds falling to the ground in a heap, useless. “Alright, you listen very carefully now, understand?” Acheros waited a few moments before the woman-- arms still tightly contorted behind her back, mouth held firmly shut by the thick tape draped over her face-- nodded her head in frightened assent. “Okay,” Ro spoke with sincerity and calm, his voice taking on a personality all to its own. “I’m going to let you go. Not here, that would be foolish, but I’m gonna take you out to my car, we’re gonna drive somewhere far off, and I’m gonna let you go.”

The woman began to cry, her entire body shaking. They were not tears of grief, but happiness. She was more happy than Ro had seen any woman, in a long long time. And why was he sparing her anyway? He never spared the women he kidnapped, it was stupid, foolish. The authorities would be on him in an instant. Even if he threatened and promised death if they were to talk, the women would talk anyway. He was being brash. But perhaps he couldn’t do it anymore. For nearly two years, he had been doing the same thing. Hoping against hope that it was her, only to find heartbreak after heartbreak. And each new one tore out another piece of what was left of his tortured soul. 

But it wasn’t this pain that made him decide to free this woman. It was Her. Cecilia Beck. The woman he had loved more than he had ever loved anything his entire life, and the one person he knew on the Earth better than he knew himself. She would be ashamed of him. She would hate him. “Ro. Dear, Ro. What are you doing? What have you become? You were so much more than this, a better man than this.”

A better man. Better. Ro wasn’t sure what he was anymore. Maybe he was a monster, like his family had always assumed. Maybe Cecilia had been the only thing preventing his full fall, and with her gone, there was nothing left but his inner evil. What had he become? 

Acheros still could recall the day he had asked Cecilia to marry him. he could remember it like the countless facts and definitions he had memorized over his years of schooling. Nearly three years ago now, he guessed. Three years sounded like an eternity, but for Acheros, every day had passed in the blink of an eye without the woman who had been his all.

It had started out as a normal day, those three years ago. The sun was shining, though by no means was it the perfect weather for what he intended to do. It had been fairly cold-- it was an October morning-- and as the day dragged on, more and more clouds began to dot the sky above, blotting out the dimples of sunlight that drifted between the trunks of the myriad of trees. Acheros had asked Cecilia to accompany him on a walk through the estate’s grounds, but more specifically to his favorite spot in the vast land his father owned. His father was a wealthy man, and the estate on which Arthur Edgerton had built his home was nearly seventy acres, fifty of which was situated in a dense, beautiful forest of trees. Far back in the woods, Acheros had discovered a small pond when he was a boy. It was barely more than a pool of water, but it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen in nature. Ro must have been only eight or nine when he had found it, but he loved it from that moment on. It was surrounded by trees on all sides, tiger lillies shooting up around its edges. In the cool, dim light of the evenings, Acheros used to lay down by its side and listen to the frogs sing their songs to each other. It was the only place Ro had ever found peace and tranquility on the estate, and it was truly his. 

Finally, after a long trek through the grounds marred by Cecilia tripping over a root and splashing mud all over her frontside, Ro led the two of them to the side of the pond. At that moment, the weather had been perfect, Ro could recall. He couldn’t have planned it any better had he tried. Two dark, foreboding clouds high above had parted, and the sunlight shined down perfectly above the clearing around the pond. Leading her gently to the side of the water, Acheros had dropped to one knee, fishing the all important piece from deep inside his suit’s inner pocket. 

She had gasped, Acheros remembered with a smile, her hands covering that beautiful, impossibly perfect face as she realized just what was happening. “Cecilia Beck,” Acheros had begun a little nervously, his voice catching on her name but gaining strength as he continued. “I love you. And the past seven years of my life have been the best by a long shot. You took me from the edge of a dark, deep abyss, and gave me a reason to be hopeful in life again. You are the single greatest part of my life, and I would be remiss if I couldn’t spend every moment of the rest of it with you. Cecilia,” Acheros had gently raised the top of the ring box open, revealing a beautiful, glittering diamond ring, “Will you marry me?”

She had simultaneously begun to laugh and cry, throwing her head to the side and closing her eyes tight as a single tear slid down her cheek. She nodded vehemently after a few moments of stunned indifference, “Yes. Yes of course I will, Ro. I’m so happy.” Acheros’s eyes had nearly bulged out of his head, the blue in them swirling. She said yes! He couldn’t believe it. He slid the diamond onto her finger, noting with excitement how dazzling it was in the sunlight. He felt an uplifting chuckle escape his lips, and he bounded to his feet in an instant. Sweeping Cecilia into his arms, he remembered-- even three years later-- how perfect those thin, vibrant lips had tasted and felt. He had kissed her for only a moment, but it was as though time had frozen. Just the two of them, alone, together in the forest by his favorite place in the world. It was a moment he would relive countless times over the next year, and countless times since, though with an entirely different emotion.

The realization hit him once more that Cecilia was unalterably gone. She was dead. She would never come back, and every happy memory and every enjoyable moment was tainted with the knowledge that it was all his fault. That somewhere, Cecilia hated him for what he had caused her, and for what he had become in the years since she died. Wrenching himself back to the present, he resigned himself to what had to be done.

Part of Chapter Eight

**Picks up in the middle of the chapter

Chapter Eight: Kallan

“Excuse me, sir!” Kallan flagged down a man in line, and he quickly sidestepped the jumbled mass, standing next to the agent with a bright, beaming smile on his face.

“What can I do for you, friend?”

“I’m a special agent with the FBI, names Kallan Dale.”

“Oh, FBI? That’s interesting. Wouldn’t be about the Kansas City Darling would it?”

That was what the locals and the rest of America had taken to calling the serial killer. The only thing known about the case was the type of victim taken, and America had grown fond of using the moniker almost instantly. Kallan nodded slowly, and the man’s blue eyes widened behind his wire rimmed, golden glasses. “That’s right. I was just recently assigned to come down here and see if I can find any more details or evidence, though God only knows it’s gonna be a hell of a time.”

“Wow.” The man looked the three agents up and down, still wearing that stupid, idiotic smile on his face. Kallan began to feel a strange, tugging sensation in his gut about this particular man. “The Kansas CIty Darling. I really hope you catch the bastard. You know, my girlfriend was taken by him. Killed her. I would do anything to get my hands on him myself.”

“Well, sir, all respect to you, but if all goes well in our investigation, you won’t need to. But I am sorry to hear about your girlfriend. We’re here to prevent any more deaths like that. Now, I do have a question for you, if you don’t mind. Could you put us in the direction of the InterContinental hotel?”

The man’s eyes brightened, and leaned backwards the slightest bit, “Of course! I know right where it’s at. Actually, if you head out that door right down that way,” He pointed to the end of the terminal where four double doors marked the exit to the rest of the world. “ Take a right as soon as you get out there and keep heading straight, you’ll walk right into it. It’s located in the plaza, you can’t miss it.”

Kallan threw up his hands, happy to have an end to his exasperation. “Ah, thank you so much, Mr....”

“Edgerton. Acheros Edgerton. Though my friends call me Ro.” The man stuck his hand out, and Kallan gripped it firmly, wearing a smile of his own. 

“Acheros, huh? That’s a hell of a name. Latin?”

Acheros nodded, cocking his head. “Yep, it means sorrow, actually. My dad named me after my mom died when she gave birth to me. So I’m stuck with a name that means sorrow and a father who hates me. But that’s a story for another day! I hope you all enjoy your stay in Kansas City and you find that killer. I think we will all be at peace when you do.” 

Kallan nodded, chuckling. “Look, you and me both, buddy. You have no idea the kind of heat I’ve been getting from my boss. The moment we catch this guy, all of America’s gonna breathe a sigh of relief.”

“I sincerely hope you do, but I have to be off. I’ve got a flight to catch. I apologize.”

Kallan stepped back, his arms spread wide. “No, no, I’m sorry for keeping you. Have a safe flight, and thanks again!”

The man nodded in response, drifting back into the crowd. In a moment he had disappeared into its midst, and Kallan was left alone with the agents once again. “Alright, you heard the man. Let’s get going, shall we?”

The three of them began the last leg of their trek to the hotel, but Kallan couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the man had stood out, or had been curious at the very least. He had seemed genuine and honest, but there was something about him that gave Kallan pause. Glancing behind his shoulder, he tried to locate the man’s brown hair, but he was long gone. Kallan shrugged, probably just the jet lag playing hell with his senses. In any case, the hotel was just around the corner, and he would have a few moments of precious rest before embarking on his fool’s quest. 

Part of Chapter 3

First portion of chapter 3 in the novel.

Chapter Three: Kallan

FBI special agent Kallan Dale leaned back in his plush, leather seat, gazing intently out of the window on the side of his office to the street four stories below. Even from this height, he didn’t need to imagine the frenzied pace of traffic. There had been countless times in his career when he had counted himself lucky to be seated four stories above that chaos than to be located in it. But not today. Today, he gazed out the window in the hopes that somehow, someway, he could leave his office behind. Hell, leave the FBI behind, and live somewhere far, far away. But it wasn’t possible. Not yet, at least. 

“You have any idea what we’re dealing with, here, Dale?” Kal, as everybody called him, flicked his blue eyes to the face of his boss, Agent Levi Ross. On any other day, Kallan actually liked the man a great deal. He took no bull shit, didn’t bat an eye at chewing out an agent who was out of line, and generally did good work around the bureau. But that was any other day.

“Sir, I told you. I’ve been following this guy for almost two years, and he’s just too damn clean. I’ve got nothing, and the scrubs don’t find anything on the body or at the scene to point us in the right direction. He’s a ghost. He’s been a ghost for two years. What we’re dealing with is an unprecedented son of a bitch.” Ross bristled at this, but Kallan didn’t give two shits how the agent felt. He was tired of being chewed out on a bull shit, going nowhere case. “The only thing I know for certain is his M.O. He obviously takes women, all of the same average build, height, and features. Brown hair, green eyes, young. Smooth facial features, long wavy hair, natural tan hue. But there are no connections between victims, no obvious signs pointing to someone connected to each of them. Nothing. They’re simply all from a relatively close area, about a twelve mile radius involving Kansas City and the surrounding area. We can’t simply put out a bulletin warning women of a certain archetype to hunker down and seek shelter until this blows over. We don’t even know if this will blow over. The minute we send out warnings, the killer will up and leave, and any hope of following a trail will be cold. I’m telling you, sir, until something new comes through, I can’t make any headway in this case.”

Ross leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his fist supported the weight of his head. Staring straight back at his boss, Dale noted for the first time the way his lip curled back in contempt at the first sign of displeasure. His grey eyes were as hard to read as a tinted pair of glasses, made even harder by the strained look on his face. “Are you telling me you can’t do your job, Special Agent Dale?”

Dale threw his arms upwards in exasperation. “Jesus, Levi, you know damn well no one could do my job! I’m tired of this bureaucratic bull you’re always pulling. Your strong man lectures might work on some of the younger guys, but I’ve been here a while longer, and a few tough words aren’t going to coax a magical solution out of my ass to end this case. What I’m telling you, sir,” Dale was drifting into dangerous territory, here he knew, sneering his words with a snarl, “is that I’m not going to be of any use to this department unless you get me on a different case. Nothing’s doing on this one.”