Chapter 3

Emilia

I went back into his bedroom because I was missing something. The confirmation that Jake Clayton was a serial killer. He had been missing for five weeks and had last been seen leaving work for the weekend. His car indicated he had made it home, but there were no signs of a struggle in the house, and nothing was missing from the house.

"Why is the FBI interested in a missing persons case?" the detective asked.

"It's part of a larger enquiry," I replied in a vague manner because everything in the FBI was on a need to know basis.

I walked around the bedroom, moving the picture frames to one side to check behind them. When I found nothing, I went back into the closet. It wasn't like me to miss anything, and I needed to get my head back into the game. My time here was limited and I wanted to take advantage of all the FBI resources while I could.

I moved his clothes on the hanger to one side and spotted the vent I'd missed earlier. Once I knelt down, I used my penknife and unscrewed it open to see a cream-coloured book sitting in the metal vent. It was too small to be a scrapbook, but it reminded me of a photo album. When I opened it up I knew it was old patches of human skin attached to the page. I flicked the pages over and found more. It looks like we found the serial killer that raped, tortured and killed women. He would cut out a small square patch of skin out of every victim.

"What the fuck is that?"

I glanced up at the detective.

"The Skinner's scrapbook," I said as I stood up.

It looked as if the vigilante had gotten to Jake before I could. I smiled because I was getting closer. A serial killer killing other serial killers. It was only a matter of time before I found out who the culprit was. I had Jake's engraved watch in my pocket. I collected one item from each of the missing serial killers. They would come in handy when I needed to stitch someone up.

**

After pulling an all-nighter in the office and going through any footage I could find, combined with the file information, I was able to compile a partial profile on the culprit, but more importantly, I found a name. The meticulous bastard hadn't made it easy, but my perseverance paid off when I connected a shell corporation back to his company.

Cyrus Wicke was his current name prior to that, it had been Robert Wickman Jr. He was a respectable owner of a biotechnology company, AbbyChrome, and he came with a tragic past. His work merging genetics into tech won him the most prestigious award in 2045. Biotechnology has been heavily invested in by billionaires for nearly sixty years. His history was so well buried that I knew he either had a hacker or he was a hacker. It was time to take a few personal days so I could do more recon on him.

**

"Why do you look so tired, Angel?" my Grandmother asked while peering at me through the hologram.

My Grandfather tried to get a look but she wasn't having any of it.

"Wait your turn, Harrison."

I stifled a smile when I heard him grunt.

"She is my granddaughter, too, you know."

Even in their 70s and 80s, they were still like children. I lived with them instead of the Uni dorms from the ages of sixteen to twenty. It was the best decision I could have made. My time with them had been precious, and the love they shared with one another was obsessive. It made my heart pang each time because I knew it wasn't possible to find your soulmate in this day and age. My grandparents and parents were extremely lucky. I loved my family and siblings dearly, and we always spent our weekends together. I got the best of both worlds.

"I'm fine. I cracked a case, but it took a while to figure it out. I thought that I would HoloTime you both before I crashed."

Some older people still use FaceTime, but most people use the holographic system, giving the effect of the person you spoke to a 3D image. It was used on all electronic devices.

"We are so proud of you, Angel," my Grandfather said as he muscled in and sat my Grandmother on his lap.

"Thanks, Grandad," I said as I blew him a kiss and watched him catch it.

I lucked out when it came to family. My mother was a constant in my life and always encouraged me to study. My Dad watched over us all like a hawk, even my brothers. He taught all of us self-defence and how to use deadly weapons, but my time with my Grandmother was all about knives and her latest hobby, the crossbow.

"You might be tired, but you have a sparkle in your eyes," my Grandmother said.

She was sharp and didn't miss a thing.

"I might have found a little side project," I said, staring into her dark eyes.

"Oh, my, that sounds promising. Make sure you fill me in on all the details."

"I'm only in the early stages, Grandma."

"Don't trust the American men out there, have your guard up, Angel," my Grandfather piped up.

"I've not socialised enough to give you a statistic yet," I said with a broad smile.

"Mmm. Let me know if anyone is bothering you. We wouldn't mind a trip to Washington," he said with a dark smile.

My Grandma pulled his face up and began to kiss him. Since she was on his lap, I knew where this was going.

"Okay, TMI, guys. Love you both, and catch up soon," I quickly said.

My Grandmother waved her hand at me but didn't stop kissing my grandfather. With a chuckle, I ended the call. They were my golden standard for what a marriage should look like.

My mind went to the handsome Cyrus Wicke. I would need to be patient, but the more I discovered about him, the deeper I fell down the rabbit hole. There was something about him that kept dragging me back, but I needed to be careful, or he might add me to his hit list.