Desires Unleashed (34 page)

She walked up to the front desk and placed a trembling hand on the counter. The desk officer looked up at her. His cold, gray eyes looked tired. His bald head glowed under the lights.

“Can I help you, ma'am?” he asked, his nostrils flaring as he spoke.

“Um, yes, I need to speak with the officer that's dealing with all of these murders in the city, um,” she paused, she knew she would probably need to be more specific. “The dead body found earlier this morning, I need to talk to the detective who's working on that case.” She looked at the officer behind the desk. His eyes trailed her up and down, then he reached over to the telephone and dialed. A deep, male voice came over the speaker.

“Yeah?” the voice asked.

“Yeah, I got a woman out here that says she needs to speak with you about the murders you're working on. Come around,” said the desk officer.

“Will do,” said the voice. Natasha felt a little embarrassed as she fantasized about the man who owned the voice she'd heard over the speaker. She wondered if it was the same man she saw on the news that morning. His voice was clear, rich and sexy. She was anxious to find out. She looked toward the active hallway were uniformed and plain clothes officers walked to and fro, then saw the same extremely handsome man from the news report. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a form fitting white t-shirt that hugged his chest tight enough to show off his perfect abs and biceps. He walked gracefully toward her. She was surprised he knew she was the woman the officer had mentioned. Then her gaze flicked to the desk cop, and she saw him pointing in her direction. She was a little disappointed. He stopped in front of her, even more handsome Than he was on TV. She could feel herself blushing then forced it back, now was not the time to be bashful. She had something to say and she had to be as serious about it as she possibly could.

“I have information about the murders you're investigating,” she said softly.

The detective's eyes widened, telling her to follow him, he grabbed her by the arm lightly, leading her into the main work area. The open space was lined with desks and filled with the sounds of people arguing, telephones ringing, and keyboards being typed on as officers worked diligently at their desks. He directed her back to his desk, next to where his partner was sitting. He sat her in a chair adjacent to their desks. Warren sat down at his desk and looked at Natasha. She looked at his partner, who was wearing a snug dark blue t-shirt and faded formfitting blue jeans. She liked his light brown eyes, they made him look warm and friendly.

“Can I get you anything, are you thirsty?” he asked.

Natasha shook her head. “No, no thank you.”

Warren gave one quick nod and introduced himself. “Okay, I'm Detective Warren Davis and this is my partner, Detective Matthew Eric,” he said as he gestured to the equally handsome man sitting across from him. Matthew waved in acknowledgment. “And you are...?”

Natasha introduced herself. “Oh, I'm Natasha Hemingway. I work for the
Chicago Word.
I've um, I've come to you this morning because I know some details about the killings and when the next one will happen and possibly where.” Both officers leaned closer, Matthew actually pulling his chair around to the front of her.

Warren sat at his desk, poised with pen in hand. They looked at her, waiting for her to continue. They prayed that it was something solid. For four days now, they'd had zero to go on and now here was this person who said she knows something. This may be the turning point in their case.

“I...I don't know how to explain this completely, but I'll try my best. I've always been able to 'see' things, like premonitions.” She paused to gauge their reaction. Their eyes were still locked on her, there was no mockery in their expressions. “A few days ago, I was in a car accident. I hadn't taken my medication, because my friend and I went out to celebrate that night. I just got a new job. And she wanted me to share a drink with her. So I thought it best not to mix my medication with the alcohol. But after one drink, I started to feel sick, so we left the club.”

Matthew interrupted her. “Wait a minute, was this the accident a few blocks from that club,
Slayer's Lair?
”
he asked.

Natasha nodded. “Yeah, this guy who was drunk, dropped his keys. I picked them up and I told my friend to take the keys to the bartender, who obviously gave them back to him. I knew who it was, because, while we were driving away in the cab, I had a vision about the accident. I saw the accident happen through the guy who rear-ended us. I saw it right before I woke up and then I saw the lights getting closer. Then it happened. At first, I disregarded it. Sometimes people have those little unexplainable things that happen to them.” She took a few seconds to relax.

“So you've seen this murderer?” Warren asked, getting her back on track.

“Yes, I've seen through the eyes of the killer. It's a man, a pretty big man, he's Caucasian, at least six foot seven, or eight inches tall, and very muscular. I think he's a...wait, I
know
he's a shape-shifter, his hands were...” she trailed off. Natasha was remembering the man she met in the supermarket. She didn't have those dreams until she had bumped into him at the store. She struggled to remember what he looked like.

Warren sat back in his chair. All this new information was really weird to him but he was willing to take any kind of lead he could get. He threw a glance at Matthew, who shrugged, not sure if he should take Natasha's word for it.

“I think I may have seen this man!” she said excitedly. “I went to a supermarket when I left the hospital. I bumped into him, it was like hitting a brick wall. He caught me before I fell. I don't know what I could have touched that was his to make a connection. He had a handful of meat, ground beef and chuck roast, things like that,” she said, thinking back, trying to recapture any details that she could. Warren sat at his cluttered desk, thinking about the description Natasha had just given.

“I saw them kill the woman that you found this morning.” She looked at her watch, “well, yesterday morning. I could see him killing her through his eyes. That's how I see things, it's like I experience everything with the person. It's really weird and I don't like it. But I watched in my vision as his hand turned from a normal human hand to a furry claw. Then I saw him rip at her stomach, just ripping, as if she were paper...” her voice faded, tears welled up in her eyes. Matthew reached over, removed some tissues from the box on his desk and handed a handful of them to Natasha, who took them to blow her nose and wipe her tears away.

“And you saw all of this. Just like you were actually doing it yourself?” Matthew asked, genuinely curious.

She nodded and dabbed her eyes. “Yeah, I don't know how long she would have lived had I came to you guys then, but I didn't want to believe it...I'm sorry,” she said, her head down in shame.

“Don't beat yourself up about it, the important thing is you're here now, helping,” Warren said, patting her hand to reassure her that she wasn't to blame.

“You said 'them' as in more than one?” asked Matthew. Warren looked at him then back to Natasha, who was nodding.

“Yeah, a female, I'm not sure what she is. Her eyes glowed red when I first saw her, the night they killed the woman. She had pale skin, jet black wavy hair, it was long, to her thighs. She had blue eyes, when they weren't glowing red. She likes to wear a lot of skintight leather. Last night or this morning, I had a vision of them. I could see through the male again. He was sitting in a chair, there was a man on this metal table. He was crying and begging for his life just like the woman before. And the man watched him, he was happy to hear the other man pleading for his life, it was like I could taste his fear,” she explained to the two officers using her hands to emphasize the feeling she was receiving through her vision.

“As he sat in the chair, he began to masturbate,” she said, her face flushing with blood. She could feel her body temperature rise which made her squirm in her seat attempting to get more comfortable. Her arm knocked Warren's mug off of the desk and she caught hold of it but fumbled it and Warren caught the mug before it hit the floor.

“I'm so sorry, I'm just so nervous, I didn't mean to make a mess,” she said apologetically.

“Don't worry about it, doesn't matter. Lady, you could break everything in the place for all I care, I'm thrilled with this information,” Warren said as he placed the mug on the other side of his desk.

Natasha smiled gratefully because they didn't laugh at her or think she was crazy. They took heR seriously from the very beginning. She continued. “The other killer came into the room, she teased the male victim then she said, and I remember, “Should we save him for tomorrow night, or feast on him now?” The male killer said that he wanted to save him for tonight because he looked tasty and he wanted to savor his meal. Then they began to have sex as the man laid on the metal table screaming for his life, they laughed at him. His fear seemed to make them...Hornier.” She blushed even more, and looked away. Then she looked at Matthew, who was quiet.

“If we could get a sketch artist in here, can you give us their descriptions?” Warren asked.

Natasha nodded, saying “I'll do my best.” She checked her watch, it was now seven in the morning and she was tired. Natasha would have to call in to work, request the day off. Since it was only her second day, she might as well kiss that job goodbye. It saddened her. She had enjoyed her first day of work, in spite of all that was going on. Warren dialed a number on the telephone, tapping his pen on his desk as he waited for someone to pick up the other end. Matthew leaned closer, continuing to ask questions.

“Did you see what the place looked like, where they had the man? Do you know where it is?” he asked.

“Well, it was pretty dark in the room. The place looked abandoned. There were boards over the windows and the floor was really dusty and disgusting. The room was pretty big, from what I could see. They had some candles burning around the small area they were in, but that's it. I wish I knew more. I might have to have more visions to be of further help,” she said sadly. The thought of having to have more visions upset her. For it was becoming obvious she would have to see more death and torture and the sight of blood sickened her.

“Trust me, you've done so much, even now. You've been the biggest lead we've had. We were going out of our minds trying to establish a suspect profile, nothing came up. But you have the best clues yet! You've done more than enough” Matthew said warmly. He was excited about the new information they now had. Natasha smiled happily. She was very pleased that what she told them was so vital.

“Tell me, do you have to be asleep to have these visions?” Warren asked when he got off of the telephone.

“At this point, yes. I have to be completely asleep. Then the visions come. Some are just random, people playing, or having sex, or eating. Nothing terrible. But my doctor says it's the brain waves that help me form a connection with someone to the point where I can see what they see. Feel what they feel,” she said wearily, she yawned and covered her mouth. She looked up to see a middle-aged man wearing a wrinkled blue sweatshirt and jeans approaching her. He had a sketch pad in one hand and a set of pencils in another. His salt and pepper hair was combed back, exposing a receding hair line. He sat down in front of her and held out his hand.

“David Foster. I'm the sketch artist. Why don't you sit back, relax and try to remember any details about his face that you can,” he said calmly as he poised his pencil over the sketch pad. Natasha settled into the chair. She closed her eyes and tried to envision both of their features. She began to give details as the sketch artist worked furiously on the paper. His eyes darted to Natasha several times as he etched out the features of the male murder suspect she described.

“Does this look like the man you saw?” he asked as he held out the white sketch book. Natasha opened her eyes and looked at the drawing. Her mouth dropped open, amazed at the incredible likeness. It was her killer, no doubt about it. She pointed at the picture and nodded, looking at both Warren and Matthew. The two detectives took the sketch from the artist and focused on the features. Warren could judge by the size of his head, that he was a huge man and an even more enormous wolf, even bigger than himself.

“Okay, I'm ready to do the other sketch,” said the artist, as he turned the page of his sketch book. Natasha closed her eyes again, beginning to describe the female she had seen in her visions. The sketch artist's pencil worked over the paper, she could hear the soft sounds of the lead pencil scratching paper as he reproduced the face from her descriptions.

“Is this accurate?” he asked, once again holding up the pad for approval. Natasha looked at the picture and nodded grimly. While Warren looked closely at the drawing, Matthew stood behind Warren's chair, looking over his shoulder with equal attention.