Friday, January 15, 2016

Human Meat Locker

The sweating officer swung the metal tool one last time to break the lock on the door causing it to swing open and the cold freezer air poured out onto them, pricking their skin like sharp needles.

"What in God's name," the detective mumbled at the sight of bodies tagged and shelved. He opened his neatly organized book of pictures and read aloud, "This is Sarah Bartlett, age twenty-six, a college student who went missing June 16, 2015." He flipped the pages of the book and pointed. "This is Jean Newton, age forty-two, soccer mom, went missing March 3, 2014." He flipped the pages almost to the back of the book. His eyes became rigid, narrow, cold hard. "This is Kasey Mchugh, age twelve. She went missing five months ago. Her mother, my sister, killed herself a week after the chief deemed her a cold case. Her father used to be an amazing architect. He's the one who designed the building over on Rockwell Ave."

"Oh, is it the one that looks like a huge camera? It opens from the lens."

"That's the one," he said. "He's an alcoholic now. Can't even form two sentences. I want this man and I want him now. Did you get an address?"

"No." His partner shoved her phone into her pocket with a huff. "I'm sorry, Paul. They lost him. He could  be anywhere by now."

"No, he's not getting away this time. I want an army of men on the street--as many as possible. I want them at airports, the train stations, the bus stations, everywhere. Get the address to every person you can link to this scumbag and have men outside their homes and jobs. I owe my sister. Her death will not be in vain. My brother-in-law lost everything. I owe the families of all these girls. The only way he's going to get away from me is through death." He slammed the book of death closed. 

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