xseen2muchx:
“Makes sense right? I mean how long does it take people to check across townships, much more country codes. The world globalizes but law enforcement doesn’t seem to. I mean just how long it took to get those backpackers out of China, or those Journalists out of the Andes.” She said it casually, with a shoulder shrugged up as if it was just quoting a news story. “If someone was traveling for work or something, who knows if anything is even under their name. Come to a different country, try on a different identity with some local girl, get out before the blood has even set into the carpet to stain.”
She glanced up at him and couldn’t help but grin as he told her he was no angel with the joint dangling from his lips. “Ya dont say?” She snickered, unable to help herself. She held out her hand for a hit of her joint before he smoked it all the way down. “Of course they can. If there is one thing my kind likes more then a good story, its a good puzzle.” That was true for sure. She loved his part. Always had. The slow sliding together of the puzzle pieces. “I’m not going to stay what its for. I’m just going to ask if there have been any unsolved stabbings of-” She broke off to look at the file. “Females in between 25-45, in their own apartments, posed like a porno.”
She sent the message and looked back at him. “And dont worry…I always ask weird random questions. He’s used to it. It wont even seem remotely out of the ordinary to him.”
Pausing it seemed like she was debating for a moment. Debating far more then she had when she had looked at the file, passed a cop a joint or sent a very disturbing text message around the world. Finally she closed the file. “I’m Alex.” Really? Did she even want to know his name or his rank or would even that be too personal?
That the killer came from outside of the city had already crossed his mind – but Per had still hoped desperately that it wasn’t the case. It would only complicate things to an extent he didn’t even want to know about. Fucking bureaucracy. Now that the woman was basically pushing his nose into it, he was pretty sure it was the case, though.
What did occupy his mind now, however, was the fact that she knew an awful lot about the world – and then there it was. My kind. She was a fucking journalist, wasn’t she? “Fuck…” Per muttered, sucking in a deep breath as he handed her the joint back. “Of course you ask weird questions – you’re a journalist. Right? Fuck.” Oh, he should have known better! Now she had the case files, the insights, and she could use it against him. Plus, she had witnessed him smoking a fucking joint. He glanced around. Where were the fucking photographers?
A scoff escaped him when she was telling him her name. Was that a real one? “And I’m fucked. You want my name, number, and rank? Should I pose for a photo outside?”






