*She had so much coffee over the past few days that there was probably more caffeine in her system than blood. There was no time to sleep, to rest, to eat a decent meal. There was only clues to find and a killer to bring to justice. Whether that justice came from a courtroom or a smoking gun was irrelevant, the killing -had- to stop. Once again, the video screen flared to life. Claire didn't even look up from her paperwork at first.*

Yes, Annie?

~No Hi, Hello, How are you doing? No, thanks for putting your life on hold for the past two week-~

Annie! What did you find? *Across the videoscreen, Annie smiled, pigtails bouncing.*

~I now have a name for all three victims at the boat.~

That's great, Annie.

~The face and spinal column belong to Annabel Fields. She was a New Orleans police officer.~

Damn. *Claire was not looking forward to revealing that bit of information to Officer Dauterive, that they'd lost one of their own to the psycho.* What about the others?

~Annabel's roommate Trish Perkins and her fiance Carl Weatherly.~

Her fiance?

~Yeah, her engagement ring was still on her hand. Sewed to it, actually.~

So, maybe -that's- why he placed them that way. It also means that this wasn't a spur of the moment thing. He planned this one very carefully. The victims weren't chosen at random.

~Definitely not.~

He had to have them under observation for a while. Where did they live?

*It was at that time, Tim walked back into the room reading from a notebook.* \They lived in the Riverside Gardens apartment complex. They were in apartment 1021, which was../

Let me guess, right by the bayou.

\Yep. You could see the complex from where we found all the blood once the sun came up./

Get a team out there, -now-!

\Already done, boss./

Then get out there and supervise, Tim. I want that place gone through with a fine-toothed comb.

/Right away./ *He left as quickly as he entered, and completely missed Annie waving at him through the screen.*

Anything else, Annie? *Claire took a long drink of her coffee, which had gone cold.* ~The cap, iPod, and other junk showed nothing. However, semen in two of the condoms matched Carl Weatherly's. I also identified blood smears matching Carl and Trish on the ground.~

So the killer surprised Carl and Trish outside after sex. He killed them, dressed them, and sewed the bodies together. That doesn't explain Annabel's face being there. I doubt she watched them.

*Ring! Ring! Raising a hand to Annie, Claire answered her phone.* Yes?

~It's me, Tim.~

Yeah, so?

~Maybe it's nothing, but I found a wedding invitation. Claire, they were supposed to be married this Friday. The plastic bag that probably went on her wedding dress is lying right here, with the veil.~

*Suddenly, things crystallized.* Thank you, Tim. *Then, she hung up, leaving Tim to announce 'No problem' to dead air.*

Never mind, Annie, I figured it out.

~Ooh, tell me.~

The dress is Trish's wedding dress. Tim just told me they were supposed to be married Friday. He found an invitation. I bet Carl's tux was there too.

*Annie took this opportunity to interrupt, eyes wide.* ~So he dressed them in their wedding clothes and gave them the honeymoon they'd never get!~ *She paused for a moment.* ~Sick! I bet he ran into Annabel when he went to get the clothes...~

*Claire finished her sentence,* and he couldn't let her miss her friends' wedding, now could he? *She felt sick to her stomach, as the nighmarish picture became more and more vivid.* Let me know when you find anything else. *Click. The screen went dead, and Claire buried her face in her hands. Somewhere a clock was ticking down to another murder, and Claire had no way of knowing how much time remained...*

~*~Back~*~