Thread: Farewell, My Lovely (Quix & Xana) - Completed Story

RE Farewell, My Lovely Quix Xana Tom occupied himself for the remainder of the afternoon with face-to-face interviews of acquaintances of the third victim, starting with her ex-boyfriend, Steve Harmon. As he'd suspected, the man held no knowledge of the crimes, and had a water-tight alibi for the night she'd been murdered. Tom then spoke to her best friend, and gathered that the incidents had started four months previously ago and gradually increased in intensity, however had not been reported to the Authorities. He eventually prised from the woman that this had been because the stalker had blackmailed Stephanie into silence by the threat of emailing a stolen explicit home-video to her co-workers and acquaintances, and uploading it to the internet. A woman's pride could sometimes be her downfall, and Stephanie, convincing herself that she could handle it alone, had subsequently moved to a double-deadlocked apartment, and had a high-tech security system installed. Still, the killer had breached her defences, and Tom recalled Lila's words. The man was intelligent and cunning. On the way to the interviews, he'd called Jarrod and requested his partner arrange for the three dead woman's phone logs and information obtained from their computer hard-drives to be delivered to his office. The advantage of Seniority was that he could keep the other man out of the loop, and order his mouth to stay shut, whilst still using his help for menial tasks. As long as he promised that he'd received part of the credit when the serial-killer was captured, Jarrod would play along, and for the moment, as far as his Superiors were aware, Tom only worked the one homicide. Shit. So engrossed had the Detective been as he'd reviewed the records on his return to the office, that he hadn't realised night had fallen until he'd stopped momentarily and glanced at his watch. Nine O'clock. He should have been home three hours ago, and hadn't even called Lila. That wasn't unusual, it was part of being of being a Detective and, for her, a Policeman's wife. Tom swiftly bundled the documents away, and departed, hoping to arrive before Lila went to bed, and briefly wondered if she'd found time to work up a full profile. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The killer had returned to his place of employment for the afternoon, once Tom and Lila had gone their separate ways. There was no need to follow either of the two, as the man had placed a tracking bug under the side of both their cars. Lila's vehicle had been easy to locate, it was the one she'd driven from her practice, and as for Detective Reilly's Department issued Ford? The internet was a wonderful resource, and no data was safe if you knew where it was stored, and how to gain access. As Nine O'clock struck, he sat at home and scrolled through images of Dr Lila Ross obtained from Google, some of which she may not have known had even been taken, then his head shot up at the sound of a beep that told him one of their vehicles was on the move. It was the husband's, and he tracked it on the global positioning system application downloaded to his cell-phone, until the blinking red dot came to a stop outside Tom and Lila's residence. Two minutes later, he switched to the Settings app, hit Phone , then slid the Show My Caller Id setting to Off , so that her cell wouldn't recognise his number if she'd blocked it after the initial text, and messaged Lila for the second time that day. It'd show up as from an unknown caller, and sit in her received items until either read or deleted. The man hoped she'd display enough curiosity to do the former. You don't respond to your text's, Lila? Tut, tut, that's rude. Tell me, does Detective Reilly always work so late, or was he really working? I have my doubts. No harm in creating a touch of friction between husband and wife. The message sent button lit up the man's screen just minutes before Tom stepped through their front door. Hey honey, sorry I'm late. Got caught up with the case, and lost track of time. How was the rest of your day?