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  “I think they understand.”

  “Watching the memorial online almost did me in. I barely remember them. I thought about killing myself many times, but somehow, I held on to hope. And I don’t ever want to join them.” He leaned back.

  “Your teammates would kick your ass if you killed yourself after all you’ve been through.”

  “Never. I had thirty years to try.” A dimple appeared when he smiled. “I’m adjusting to this new world, little by little. There are so many different foods to try.”

  “That, too. Just wait until you visit New Orleans.” Angel looked around at the serene forestry surrounding the lake.

  “I missed beer.” He took a swig. “I had just started binge drinking when they took us. Rob wouldn’t let me have any. I’d probably be an alcoholic if things were different.”

  She put her arm on the back of the bench, just behind her father. “I imagine you’re discovering a lot about yourself these days.”

  “The Internet is great. Technology, in general, is like… what the fuck, right? It’s like Star Trek out here.”

  Her hand found his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re curious about it instead of rejecting it.”

  “I came across a dating site. You dating anyone new?” He blushed a little.

  “Not since Mark decided to apply to the Bureau. Not a lot of guys that can keep up with me, ya know?” She winked.

  “Anything new in the FBI?”

  “I’m on a new case - well, I’m assisting on a homicide case in New Orleans. Seems we have a new serial killer, and he’s seen me in the news.”

  “Oh? He’s after you?” He looked worried.

  “No, I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s contacted the police. Mentioned me by name. So, I’m consulting. No big deal.”

  “Sounds fascinating.” He let out breath. “How’s Rob?”

  “He’s optimistic about the trial. I visit him when I can. He asks about you.”

  “Ironic. He’s locked up now, and I’m free. But he saved my life that day… and every day after.”

  “He used me to kill my mom, and I’m having a hard time with that. But I love him. He never pretended to be something he wasn’t. He was always my dad.”

  “I hope he finds peace.”

  She smiled. “So, last time I told you about my first broken bone. What do we cover today?”

  He inhaled with new energy. “Since I hope to go to college one day, tell me about your college experience.” He swallowed the last of his beer, but he had planned ahead with a small ice chest. “Like always, the what, when, where, and why. Tell me every detail.”

  THE ALPHA - Chapter One

  Warped rotting plywood prevented entry into Jimmy’s Chicken Roost off Claiborne Avenue. In its fifth year of decay, the graffiti-ridden structure sat recessed on a shaded lot, hidden by thick overgrowth. The female’s corpse had been discovered where an outdoor picnic table once resided. Yellow police tape sagged around the entire perimeter like a poorly wrapped gift bow.

  Special Agent Angel Blondeaux assessed the crime scene from behind dark sunglasses. Her blue tee shirt with the Bureau’s emblem grew more damp by the minute. The shade from a nearby oak offered little relief as she scribbled on her worn pocket-sized notebook. Her pen recorded immediate observations on a page wrinkled with hand sweat. Each victim had their own notebook of facts and observations she kept at her home.

  Lead Detective Chuck Bonnay, noticeably shorter than his contemporaries, waded through the knee-high weeds to share Angel’s shade as the Crime Scene Unit performed their duties. Bonnay chewed his gum with a fury, unable to stand still. Despite his nervous energy, he kept an extra twenty pounds on his frame.

  “Believe it or not, Angel…” Bonnay swatted bugs from his face. “…I used to eat here.”

  “I wouldn’t confess that.”

  “True. Wasn’t that good.” Bonnay seemed to think for a long, frozen moment. “Very greasy.” He waved at the female’s body, then pushed his sunglasses up his oily nose. “I guess we all expected this. A fifth victim.”

  “A month since the last one.”

  “Sheila Langford,” Bonnay stated. “I listened to your call with Roman three times.” Bonnay dabbed his face. “I hate your friendship strategy with this maniac. He’s telling you where the body is, and you don’t push for information. You make a joke about outside dining.”

  “It was more of a flip remark than a joke.”

  “Yeah, I know you people got your ways.” Bonnay released a heavy breath. “Any new theories on why Roman picked you to connect with?”

  “My sense of humor?” Her fingers traced her eyebrows as if wringing them out.

  “For an FBI agent, you do say some off-color shit sometimes.”

  “Have I offended your virgin ears?”

  Bonnay’s thinning scalp beaded with moisture. A dark, wet stripe extended the length of the detective’s lime green shirt. The man slouched and stretched often, as if his limbs might lock up. She’d witnessed Bonnay yawning at all hours of the day. The Homicide Department was losing people left and right, and unsolved murders were on the rise. The pressure took a hefty toll.

  “I’m lead.” Bonnay poked his chest. “Top dog. Isn’t he supposed to taunt me?”

  “You sound jealous – or pissed that I’m forced to work with you.”

  “Give me a break. I’m happy you guys are helping out. Shit, take the case.”

  “You’re doing all you can. He probably read about the missing bus case in Moreau Parish. My name was in the news. Boom, he’s got a target.”

  “I hope that’s true because knowing him personally wouldn’t be good for you.” Bonnay pointed at the gathering residents. “We’re getting video of onlookers.”

  “Like last time.” Angel drank from her bottle.

  Bonnay knelt near the body while CSU prepared it for transport. He spastically swatted a bug on his head. “You know, even your partner said it...”

  “Kyle? Not my partner.”

  “Whatever. According to him, Roman’s above average intelligence. He’s got a private place to keep them. He’s careful not to tell you anything over the phone and he’s going to escalate. Tell us something new, Kyle - shit. Captain Jefferson’s calling Quantico for him to come in this evening.”

  “Yeah, I expected that.” Angel wiped at her neck. She finished off her bottle of water. The deceased had been dressed this time, albeit in a lacy, black negligée. She was placed on her back, hands to her sides. Her hair had been combed. “Well, he has escalated as far as being more comfortable with it.”

  “A far cry from the first one just dumped naked in City Park with the gauze. I still don’t get why he bandages them after he takes the eyes.”

  “Kyle thinks he’s recreating a moment he fantasizes about. We’ll have to ask him when we catch him.”

  The metal on Angel’s sunglasses burned despite the parcel of shade. Because the killer picked her, Angel had become a semi-liked consultant on the Blindfold Killer task force. Besides Bonnay, completing the task force was Detective Derrick Ramsey, tech consultant Stewart Shelton, and Special Agent Kyle Sinatra with the Behavior Analysis Unit of the Bureau. He’s a profiler only and doesn’t go into the field.

  Angel worked out of the FBI field office at the lakefront. The NOPD had requested she assist ever since Roman contacted her with the location of the first murder victim. Detective Bonnay enlisted help from every available officer, from any district. They had even accepted Agent Kyle Sinatra’s profiling input with open arms, but that hasn’t gotten them any closer to a lead, much less a suspect.

  With each victim, the press had become more critical, causing law enforcement to get tight-lipped. National news stations had sent correspondents after the fourth victim leading to the freaks surfacing on social media. A Facebook fan page had to be taken down. The Blindfold Killer had garnered enough tweets to be a trending topic for weeks after each murder.

  “Can we make sure he took her eyes?” A
ngel asked.

  The examiner from CSU slowly unwrapped the saturated gauze from the victim’s head. Her black, concave sockets drew a swarm of gnats. The aging CSU member spoke slowly. “Oh, yeah. They’re gone. The coroner can give you more info.”

  The man bagged and labeled the discolored cloth. Besides the insect bites and the slashed neck, the exposed parts of her body showcased sporadic bruises. The photographer made sure to capture an Irish flag tattoo on her left ankle.

  Angel pinched her sagging shirt away from the small of her back. “I don’t know what new information Kyle will be able to offer.”

  Bonnay shifted to get a different perspective of the body as they wrapped her hands in plastic bags. “Maybe he did something different this time that will shed some light. Eyes missing, wearing a bandage, and the jugular slashed - unbandaged. Less time between victims means he’s not satisfied.”

  Angel wrote those observations in her notebook.

  Bonnay faced her. They were about the same height. “I get the feeling my career is on the line here. If we don’t catch this guy, I’ll be a punchline in the department.”

  “No, you won’t. But, you’re right about the tension. It’s palpable.” Angel wiped under her ponytail. “I noticed she’s missing a thumbnail. Came off in transport?”

  “I’m not getting my hopes up we find it or that it’ll have his DNA. And we’re not releasing the missing nail to the press.” Bonnay spit out his gum in a napkin placing it in his pocket. He chugged a half a bottle of water, splashing the little that remained over his head.

  “You okay, Flashdance?”

  “It’s just so hot today. The team’s bagging her up. Nothing more for you to do here, Angel. I’ll have Miss Langford’s file ready for us first thing in the morning.”

  “Use me while you got me.”

  “You want to do my paperwork?”

  “Nope. I got my own mess on my desk back at the field office.”

  “I wish you could do the press conference with the brass. Television doesn’t like this dog’s asshole of a face.” He pointed up at his chin.

  “Aw, everyone loves your dog asshole face.” Angel ducked under the police tape to leave.

  “Go home.” Bonnay stood his ground. “I know first thing I’m going to do is shove an ice cube under each pit.”

  “Ew. Why put that visual in my head?”

  “You like it.”

  “We have to work on your charm. I’ll join the team canvassing the area. What am I going to do at home, watch Netflix with leftover pizza? We may get lucky with a witness.” She left to find Detective Ramsey down the street.

  About the Author

  Well, it all started in New Orleans where I was born and raised. The Crescent City and all its dark weirdness laid the foundation for every story I've written since high school up to present day.

  I graduated from the University of New Orleans and served six years in the Louisiana National Guard before wanting to explore outside of my beloved hometown. I met the woman I would marry in Chicago and stayed.

  * * *

  Please leave a review where you prefer to buy books and subscribe to my random newsletter for news, updates, and random free ebooks! Just visit my site…

  www.ejfindorff.com

  Acknowledgments

  There are always so many resources and influences that go into writing a book. Over the years, I’ve accumulated a wealth of knowledge of the FBI and police procedures from many different people whom I’ve thanked in previous books.

  Editor Gretchen Stelter was instrumental in giving the book direction early on in the process.

  I hope you the reader will forgive me for thanking the Internet, in particular, the FBI website and the podcast FBI Retired Case File Review. Also, Cops and Writers, and Writer’s Detective podcasts helped get my facts straight. Like always, literary license is used to make things exciting for the reader, but hopefully, I did a good job at making a plausible story.

  Also by E.J. Findorff

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  KINGS OF DELUSION

  WHERE THE DEVIL WON’T GO

  THE UNRAVELING

  A FRENCH QUARTER VIOLET

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