I've been reading a lot of Ted Dekker lately, and I'm reading a novella by Brayden Hirsch, so now I'm inspired to write a mystery/thriller too!! So here's the first chapter of a story entitled "The Price of Beauty". Enjoy!
******
The man sitting at the desk pulled up a file on his computer and browsed through its content. Trent Wilson sighed. After fifteen years in the FBI he’d never come across a case as peculiar as this one. There was a nock on his door. “Yes?” he called. Jennifer McAllister stepped into his small private office.
“Another murder, sir.” The tall, slender, and very beautiful woman dropped a folder on his desk.
“Brief me.” Trent said as he opened the folder.
“DNA confirms the victim as Tina Johnson, a twenty year-old, born and raised in Beaumont, Texas. Found propped up in a display window in a small shop called Chic Boutique.” Jennifer pointed at one of the pictures protruding from the folder. “Hair was chopped off, makeup was smeared over her face, and-”
Trent finished for her. “’The Price’ was written on her forehead in lipstick.”
“You got it.”
“And let me guess, exceedingly gorgeous?”
Jen pulled out a photo and laid it on the desk for him to see. “This guy definitely has a pattern, doesn’t he?”
Trent nodded and studied the picture. A slender young woman with black hair and bright eyes leaned up against a tree. The photo was probably taken for senior yearbook. “Definite pattern, but two things are constantly inconsistent.”
“Time and place.” Jen supplied the answer, even though it was a rhetorical question.
“Bingo. Any of his DNA found on the body or on the scene?”
“Nothing, as always. Just the facts we know already.”
Trent ran them through his mind absently. Roughly one hundred seventy pound male, size 12 shoe, always paid in cash, drove a 1998 Dodge Ram Quad Cab with Bridgestone tires, and had a thing against beautiful females. But it was more than that, wasn’t it? People don’t just go around killing attractive women in a pattern without an incentive. For the first time ever, Trent was having a hard time getting into the murder’s mind. What could possibly posses a human to kill God’s gift to men? And then he mutilated them, making the victim look like she’d just been hit by a train and let a toddler scribble on her face with cosmetics. Weird. Jennifer seemed to read his mind.
“This guy’s a psycho, huh? Creeps me out.” His co-worker, and best friend, faked a shudder. A slight grin tugged at Trent’s lips, but it quickly faded.
“Not just that, he’s also a pro. Definitely a reason to keep your doors locked at night, especially people like you.”
Jennifer laughed. “No fraternization between agents allowed, mister.” Trent chuckled. He and Jen had been tight friends since law school and nothing even relatively romantic had occurred in their ten years of being around each other on a regular basis. She was like the sister he’d never had. And the mother.
“So to get this conversation directed back towards the case, what’s the Chief say about this? Who’s he sending to the crime scene?”
Jen shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite his oak desk. “Just muttered something about no progress on the case and how the FBI wasn’t what it used to be and sent me on my way to you. Said he’d be sending you, me, Banks, and the usual team.”
Trent massaged his temples. “Thanks, Jen. Remember to notify Banks about this.”
“Sure.” She turned to leave but paused and turned back to face him. “You okay, Trent? You look pretty burned out.”
Special Agent Wilson forced a grin. “Nothing an Advil and a nap won’t fix.” Jennifer smiled softly and closed the door behind here, leaving Trent in solitude.
