Chapter Two
“The Norfolk Butcher. What a truly asinine name for this case,” I said to myself while flipping through today’s local newspaper.
You’d think the media would come up with a better name for me, for my work, for my art.
Rolling my eyes, I tossed the paper onto my desk and took a sip of my now lukewarm coffee. Placing the cup down on my desk, I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to counter the building headache.
The curse of the always lukewarm coffee…
Giving up on my caffeine fix, I leaned back in my desk chair and smiled, remembering the fresh little treat I left for myself in the refrigerator on the other side of my office. With a spring in my step, I hummed a satisfied tune while crossing my office toward my break area. Opening the refrigerator door, my mouth watered seeing my small, circular, reusable container and a bottle of twenty-year-old tawny port wine. Holding the small container in both hands, I read the label on the lid in my mind.
Raymond Klatz, October 25, 2023 23:09.
Reaching for my half-empty bottle of port wine, I closed the refrigerator and placed my snack on the nearby counter. Opening the cupboard above my coffee maker, I reached for my port wine glass and poured myself about three ounces before returning the bottle to the refrigerator. Standing at the counter, I held my Raymond treat again and eagerly pulled off the lid.
Two small, pale pink colored, peanut-sized pieces were on display and immediately my mouth watered. Taking a small sip of my tawny port, I let the flavors of the wine dance across my tongue while I picked up one of the pieces in between my pointer finger and thumb. Placing the meat on my tongue, I bit into the soft piece; the rich, sweet flavor bursting in my mouth was the perfect pairing for this specific port wine.
This was my favorite way to eat something so decadent. Raw, and tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper. Simple, but delicious.
Quickly, I devoured the second piece, licking my fingertips before taking another sip of wine. The flavor pairing was remarkable, and I was left starving for more. Savagely, I brought the empty, shallow container to my mouth, licking the inside clean, desperately trying to taste the sweetness again.
Fuck, it’s so good. So fucking good.
My heart started racing, and I started to get lightheaded. I rushed into my private bathroom near the coat closet and locked the door, trying to prevent the rush I knew I needed. Leaning both hands on the sink, I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to calm myself.
I was flooded with memories of Raymond's death: how it felt dragging my scalpel across his skin and seeing the fear in his eyes when he realized he would die. Closing my eyes, I smiled, remembering how I held my scalpel to his cheek, trailing the sharp metal toward his chin, leaving behind a deep gash in his tan skin. His screams of pain were music to my ears.
But oh, the moment he saw my scalpel move to his neck, the fear in his eyes was fuel for my appetite. Taunting and teasing, I barely dragged the tip of my scalpel along his neck and collarbones until he was physically trembling in fear.
“That’s it Raymond, show me how scared you are. Let me see your fear consume you. Your brain will taste sweeter the more fearful you are.”
Once I felt he was ready, I sliced his neck, letting his blood freefall down his naked body into the tub underneath him. Once he bled out, I began the process of harvesting my delicious aphrodisiac of a snack: his two amygdala. The amygdala of a man is slightly larger than a woman’s, and oh so much sweeter when overcome with fear. It’s a lengthy process to get to the little peanut shaped delicacies, but worth it.
“Fuck…” I groaned out loud while unzipping my pencil skirt, unable to resist anymore. With shaking hands, I draped the skirt over the towel rack to avoid getting wrinkles and sat on a chair at the vanity next to the sink. Leaning back, I let my head hang over the back of the chair as my fingers teased my clit over my lacy thong.
Fuck, Raymond. I’m so wet for you, I thought as I slid my thong to the side, trailing my fingers up my slit to my clit and circled the sensitive flesh in lazy circles. My hips began to rock against my hand; the added pressure on my clit already had me ready to come. With my free hand, I reached underneath my blouse, teasing my hardened nipples under my bra, every sensation flooding my body with heat.
I found a steady rhythm, circling three times, and dipping my middle and ring fingers into my tight cunt until my hand became slick with my arousal.
Hearing his screams in my mind and feeling my finger slide from my clit to inside my cunt repeatedly threw me over the edge. My climax ravaged my body as I thrust as many fingers as I could reach into my contracting pussy, soaking my hand.
Coming down from my orgasm, I dragged my fingers through my wetness and brought them to my mouth. Trailing the tip of my tongue up my middle finger gave me just the right amount of salty sweetness to finish off my amygdala snack.
Sated and relieved, I cleaned myself and my hands before stepping into my skirt again. Studying my appearance in the mirror, I made sure every part of my outfit and hair was perfectly in place before I exited the restroom to return to my desk.
“Really? Again?” my reflection said to me with a scoff. My darkness came to me to lecture me. Lovely.
My darkness was an extension of myself and my psyche. Embracing her changes me. It makes me ruthless, calculated, hungry—nothing is more delicious than the fear of death. Soon, oh so very soon, I’d make them pay.
“I was starving, in more ways than one. I did what I had to do,” I countered, taking a tissue from the counter and dabbing the corner of my mouth.
“Pray tell how bringing parts of your victim’s brain to work is a good idea? What if the FBI were here and saw—”
“They weren’t here, were they?” I interrupted. My darkness’s black eyes bore into mine.
“You’re risking yourself getting caught. At least remove and burn that label on the container. The FBI haven’t found what’s left of Raymond’s remains yet,” my darkness scolded.
“I won’t get caught. I’ll never get caught, so relax.”
Not giving my darkness a chance to respond, I stormed out of the restroom and plopped myself down in my desk chair.
Looking at the clock on my phone, I noticed it was almost time to head to the FBI headquarters to assist them with this case—my case.
I wonder if he will be there. I've been dying to see his gift again.
Opening my middle desk drawer, I pulled out my leather-bound planner, flipping through to the first tab—Camden’s first case. He profiled and caught a serial robber in three days. The next tab was his second case: a drug smuggling ring that was forming in Washington, DC, that he destroyed in a week.
A swell of pride washed over me as I flipped through all twenty-one tabs, scanning all of Camden Sullivan’s accomplishments and arrests. The newspaper clipping for his most recent case had a press photo of him shaking Carver’s hand as he received an award.
Tracing my fingertips across his photo, I spun my desk chair away from my desk to gaze out the window, looking down on Norfolk below me. It was only a year ago I met him after giving a profiling lecture at the FBI Academy. Holding my planner open in my lap, my mind drifted to that day.
One Year Ago
Wrapping up my profiling lecture, I dismissed the lecture hall and began to shuffle through my notes, placing the pages back in order at the podium.
One trainee in particular caught my eye on my way in, and just like I expected, he slowly approached me at the podium. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out one of my business cards and began to write out my office’s address on the back while he approached.
The fear radiating off of him made my mouth water. I wonder how good he would taste on my tongue…
“I was waiting for you to come say something, rookie,” I said with a smirk while writing. In my periphery, I could see him standing there nervously.
“I um… Hi, Doctor Lawson…”
“Please, rookie, you don’t need to be so nervous. Although, I’m worried about how you’re managing your ADHD without medication, all while trying to get into the BAU.” Looking up at him over my glasses, I could see him caught off guard. “What’s your name?” I removed my glasses and stood to face him, clicking my pen closed.
“S-Sullivan, Doctor. Camden Sullivan.”
“How about a little quid pro quo, Camden? I can see you have some questions for me.” Leaning on the podium, I let my glasses hang from my fingertips. “You tell me something about you, and I’ll answer whatever questions you have. What do you say?”
“What about me?” He asked, a mischievous but curious gleam in his eye.
“Everything. So, what do you say?” Taking two steps toward him away from the podium, I stared intently into his eyes, searching, unlocking the doors I knew he kept locked in his mind.
“Yes, ma’am.” The way those two words fell off his tongue almost unraveled me. My mind flashed to him on his knees for me.
“So, tell me, why are you here?” I forced my thoughts to the back of my mind.
“It’s our class day, and—”
“No, Camden. WHY are you here? Why are you in the FBI academy, trying to play secret agent?” I purred, the angry spark in his eyes giving me goosebumps.
“I’m not trying to play secret agent, doctor,” he spat, offended.
“Oh, but you are, Camden. I don’t see one ounce of the FBI in your eyes. So, what are you really after?” I kept my voice calm, and even as I scanned him.
“You don’t know me and yet you question my integrity?” Watching his body language, he took two frustrated steps toward me, exuding dominance. All the while, his breathing was heavy and uncontrolled while he failed to contain his anger.
“I know all about you, Camden. I can read you like a book.” Taking two of my own steps toward him, I caught something in his eyes. He unknowingly led me down the path of his mind to the door he kept locked the most: the door to his father.
Trying to impress the father that left him, still yearning for his approval and acceptance. He chose a career to prove his worth, his power, and his strength. A career where his empathic gift can be used for something positive, instead of feeling only pain.
“You don’t know…”
“How old were you, hmm? When your father left you?” I interrupted him, forcing him to stumble backwards a step, catching him off guard. “You weren’t a child, no. Teenager, I’m assuming. When a young man needs his father’s guidance the most as he navigates puberty and manhood.”
“He didn’t… he didn’t leave…”
“Oh, but he did, didn’t he? It’s alright, Camden. I see you. I see how you so desperately try to hide your ADHD from the FBI so they don’t force you out. I see how you surround yourself with extroverted friends to help give you the confidence you haven’t found on your own. I see a broken man, but a worthy one. Don’t forget that.”
Stepping away to put my notes in my bag, I smiled when I noticed him looking like his brain was resetting.
“The mind is a powerful thing, Camden.”
“It has the power to uncover the truths that the naked eye can’t see,” he said flatly, finishing the quote from my book he held in his hands. Reaching my hand out for the book, I plucked it out of his hands, our fingertips brushing each other, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
“So, you’re hoping to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit then. I see.” I dusted off the top of my book, trying to release the energy I felt from touching his warm skin.
“Y-yes, that’s my goal,” he stuttered. Offering him a kind smile, I clicked my pen and opened the cover to sign his book and scribble a little note.
“I look forward to hearing your true answer to my question,” I said while closing the cover and handing the book back to him.
His curious eyes were searching mine as he took the book back, forcing a smirk to form. Turning away, I pulled on my trench coat and grabbed my bag. After tossing my now gone coffee cup in the trash, I stepped toward him again. His subtle masculine scent was threatening to unravel my mind, but I managed to place my business card in the chest pocket of his FBI Academy polo shirt.
“Come find me when you get your badge. I’m looking forward to my answer,” I said again, looking up into his innocent eyes. Patting his chest, I winked and made my way to the exit of the stage.
“You have an appointment with the BAU in thirty minutes, Doctor.” My assistant’s voice over my desk phone’s speaker pulled me from my memories. Spinning my chair back around to face my desk, I pressed the button to reply.
“Thank you, Elaine.”
Scooping my wavy hair behind my ear, I continued to study Camden in his most recent article. Even through the poor print quality of the city’s newspaper, I could make out every dip and curve of his strong arm muscles. My eyes followed a crease in his shirt as the fabric discreetly stretched to accommodate his muscular chest. He wore his signature black tie and wore his badge on his belt on the front of his hip. His gun was in a shoulder holster underneath an unbuttoned sport coat and the hand opposite of his gun was in his side pocket as he addressed the media, and I could see him avoiding eye contact.
Perfection.
Tracing his face again with my fingertips, I closed my book, placing it back in my desk drawer and pulled out my copy of the confidential file for the BAU’s recent case. Locking my desk, I reached for my bag resting near my feet.
I wonder if I’ll see him today. I thought as my hands grasped the straps of my bag. Watching Camden get ready for work every morning has become the highlight of my day.
The day after we met at my lecture, I installed a few hidden cameras in his dorm room. Once he moved out into his apartment, I did the same there while he was at work. I was utterly obsessed with him, and I couldn’t get through the day without seeing him.
With a sigh, I stood, laying my bag on the desk and placing my file inside. Closing my laptop, I placed it inside the bag, along with a few notepads and pens. I’ve already prepared a profile for this suspect, and I chuckled at my darkness, standing behind me with her arms crossed again.
“Relax. They don’t know it’s me.”
“For now,” my darkness scoffed.
Turning to my right to face a vintage full body sized mirror, I studied my appearance. I adjusted my black pencil skirt, tugging it back in place, and smoothed out the fabric on my thighs. My fingers ran across the waistband of my skirt, feeling around to make sure the fabric of my black blouse was still tucked in and in place.
I had to look perfect for him.
My long, brown waves cascaded down my back as I spun and looked over my shoulder. Facing the mirror again, I tucked hair behind both ears, showing my cream-colored pearl studded earrings, and smiled down at my matching necklace. My makeup was a soft, smokey eye with my trademark red wine colored lipstick.
Turning back to my desk, I clipped my badge holder with my FBI keycard in a sleeve on my waistband and, leaning over my desk, I pressed the call button on my desk phone.
“How is our weather outside, Elaine?”
“Thirty degrees today, Doctor. I’d recommend your coat,” she replied innocently.
Pulling on my fleece-lined peacoat, I scooped my hair out, allowing it to fall down my back and grabbed my bag. Before exiting to my office lobby, I stepped into my black patent leather pumps I keep near the door.
“Good morning, Doctor. I had a fresh coffee prepared for you to take to go, since I’m sure by now your other one has gone cold.” Elaine smiled as I approached her, a welcome coffee sitting on the corner of her desk with a little stopper in the lid.
“Thank you, Elaine. You are truly a saint. This case will keep me out of the office for a good portion of the day, but please text me if you need anything,” I said, reaching for my new coffee. “I may have a session with a new agent, but I will call ahead of time to have the room prepared.”
“Of course, Doctor. You do not have any other appointments until tomorrow, so everything will be fine here today. Good luck!”
Nodding in reply, I turned to exit the office and toward the elevator to the parking lot. Pressing the call button for the elevator, I couldn’t help the shiver of anticipation that started in my toes, creeping its way up my body. The thought of being in his presence again, smelling his delicious aftershave—
The elevator door opened with a ding, interrupting my borderline inappropriate thoughts. Stepping inside the empty elevator, I pressed the button to descend to the garage level and pulled out my vibrating cell phone.
“This is Doctor Lawson,” I answered professionally as the elevator door opened to the garage.
“Good morning, Doctor. Jacobs wanted me to confirm if you were going to be at our morning meeting.”
“Yes, Diaz, I’m on my way now. I will be there in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you, Doctor. See you then.”
Replacing my cell phone with my keys in my pocket, I aimed my key fob toward my BMW to unlock it. The clicking of my pumps echoed off the walls of the empty parking structure, making me smile. Each step I took was one step closer to him.
Once inside my car, I placed my bag on the passenger seat and pressed the ignition start button. Turning the air conditioning to the lowest temperature, I took a moment to compose myself. The cool air danced across my hot skin and the shiver that consumed my body made me comfortable and at ease.
After a quick five-minute drive, I pulled into my reserved parking space at the FBI headquarters. Pulling down the visor, I check my appearance one more time, the anticipation of possibly getting to see him again building. A surge of excitement danced down my spine as a sly grin found my lips in the mirror.
“You need to find out what new information the FBI has on their ‘Norfolk Butcher’ case. We can’t afford for you to be careless,” my darkness warned. Her dark eyes found mine in the mirror of the visor.
Swatting the visor back into place, I stood from my car and smoothed my skirt. Reaching back inside, I grabbed my bag and my coffee with a sigh. I need to calm myself before heading inside.
Calm and focused…calm and focused…
With a sigh, I shook it off, standing tall and focusing on the crisp fall air as I made my way to the elevator. Swiping my badge, I pressed the button for the third floor and as the elevator doors closed, an anxious flutter in my stomach made me grin.
He’s here. He has to be.
“Good to see you, Doctor,” Diaz greeted professionally as the elevator doors opened.
“Likewise, Diaz—always a pleasure. Is Jacobs available for a word before our meeting?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Yes, he’s just briefing a recruit.” She nodded toward his office, and I could see the door ajar. Anticipation building stronger in my core, I sauntered over toward Jacobs’ office and Camden’s scent immediately surrounded me. My eyes landed on his strong back, and I couldn’t help but admire his tight, firm ass in those slacks.
“Yes, Helena has been a big part of our team for years. We are lucky to have her assist us when her schedule has an opening.”
“You’re too kind, Marcus,” I said behind Camden.
“Ahh, speaking of! Doctor, I’d like to introduce you to our newest recruit—”
“Agent Sullivan,” I answered for him, not even bothering to try to hide the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as he stumbled, almost dropping a box he held in his hands.