The Unthinkable

Chapter 1

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As the morning sun crept across Angie’s face, her eyes fluttered open. Was it time to get up already? She struggled to kick the comforter off her legs before swinging them over the side of the bed so she could sit up. After a deep sigh, she did her best to push her hair out of her eyes. While gathering the motivation to get off the bed, she noticed a strap on her white tank top had slipped off her shoulder, so she slid it back into place and stood. Reaching over her head, she felt her muscles loosen.

After shuffling into the guest bathroom, Angie shed the few clothes she slept in and stepped into the shower. Within seconds, the water was scalding hot, just the way she liked it. There was nothing she had to do today, so she took her time soaking in the spray.

Twenty minutes later, Angie left the bathroom with a soft, white, fluffy towel tucked under her arms and one around her head, holding her wet hair up. Her bare feet barely interrupted the silence as she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Halfway there, she lingered to gaze at photos of her sister Samantha and brother-in-law Flint hanging on the wall. They were the picture perfect couple. Angie’s sister was beautiful enough to be with someone as absurdly good-looking as Flint, but Samantha had always been so arrogant that it was mind-boggling that a man as good and nice as Flint would marry her.

Perhaps Samantha had changed. Ever since her older sister had left home for college, they had not spent much time together. Weekends here and there, holidays and an occasional family vacation, but even then, they were not much closer than two acquaintances in the same room. Maybe her sister had grown up and learned to care about somebody other than herself.

Angie tightened the towel under her arms to keep it from falling and continued on. Once she reached the kitchen, she took a glass from the cabinet and a plastic jug of orange juice from the stainless-steel refrigerator and poured herself a glass. She took a drink, set the glass down and returned the jug to the fridge.

Perhaps she would drive to Muskingum College and learn how her friend Julie passed time between classes. Her sister and brother-in-law had gone to a local nature preserve to bike and hike and were not expected back until the afternoon.

She headed back down the hall towards the guest bedroom and her clothes. As she walked past the main bedroom, she heard the rustle of fabric and turned her head in time to catch a glimpse of a large man in black emerging from the main bedroom.

Chapter 2

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When Angie Tram walked down the hallway and passed the main bedroom, she was no more than a foot away. Watching the victim where she was relaxed and felt safe only added to the high he experienced. He was in complete control. This young girl was his for the taking, and she did not even know she was in danger. Hiding inside the main bedroom allowed him to watch her around the edge of the door that was slightly open. He had been in the house for nearly forty minutes before she climbed out of bed. The spare key he had taken from the dog box in the backyard had enabled him to enter through the back door.

Every move she made that morning was part of the foreplay between the two of them. He had enjoyed each moment from the time she climbed out of bed in a skimpy pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top. Seeing her tank top rise enough to expose a sliver of her belly and a surprise belly button ring when she stretched her arms over her head was a nice appetizer.

The glimpse of the white gold butterfly ring on her flat tan tummy was almost more than he could withstand. His arousal started upon seeing it. Then, before he knew it, she was swaying her way into the bathroom while the threads of those skimpy boxers stretched to the edge of snapping against her firm backside. My God, he might have to take her twice.

Once inside the bathroom, she closed the door but neglected to lock it. When he heard the water running, he opened the door enough to watch her silhouette through the shower curtain. He could imagine the water streaming down her bare body and slippery skin. When she turned the water off, he quietly closed the door and retreated to the bedroom where he had hidden before.

A few minutes passed before she left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. She was wearing nothing more than a bleach white towel wrapped around her body and tucked under her armpits. The soft fabric hardly covered her blossoming bosom and fell a little past what he imagined to be the most delicious part of her body.

A citrus scent drifted through the open door to him. The aroma must have come from a lotion she had applied to her body. He could not wait to find out if it tasted as good as it smelled. The refrigerator door shut, and he saw she was pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

At any moment since he snuck into the house, he could have had her. However, watching and waiting was better. Knowing he had all the power and could choose the moment when he took her was intoxicating.

The anticipation of what was coming heightened his senses. The slight hum of the air conditioner, the dust motes floating as the sun shone through windows. The way the few pieces of her hair had fallen loose from the towel around her head and were trailing down her neck swayed when she walked. Everything had become part of the experience, and he would remember every detail. He could not wait much longer.

With a bump of her bottom, the door to the refrigerator snapped shut, and she headed back in his direction. He pressed his back flat against the bedroom wall. When she passed, he would make his move. Suddenly, the floor creaked outside the door, and he heard the soft patter of her bare feet on the hardwood floor.

It was time.

Chapter 3

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He pushed the door out of his way and lunged into the hallway behind her. She must have heard him, for as he reached out, she turned her head and saw him coming. His victim screamed and stumbled forward while awkwardly swinging her arm and grazing him in the head. She tried to run down the hall, but he was quicker. The problem was his hand closed on the towel, and it came off her body. A brief glimpse of her nude excited him so much that he stopped moving, and it nearly allowed her to get away. He regained his senses and kicked his right foot out, intertangling it with his victim's feet, causing her to fall to the floor.

He was on her immediately, trying to cover her body with his own as she screamed and attempted to crawl away. She was his now. Despite how fast things were happening, he could not help but notice her smooth and perfect skin. He even managed to place a hand on her breast for a moment before she pushed it away.

Finally, he caught her left wrist and pinned it against her body. Then he grabbed her other arm and pinned it down as well. He was already locking her legs together in a leg scissors hold so she could not kick him. She was flat on her back with him on top. She was crying and mumbling something, not that it mattered. He could feel her nude breasts pressing against his body through his clothes. She continued to struggle, but the effort she was fighting him with seemed to already be diminishing.

Being in what he considered a reasonably secure location, he felt no need to rush. He simply laid on top of her for a few minutes, savoring her capture and imagining the joys he would experience from the fantastic body of this girl who was entering her physical prime. Soon, he would roll her over and twist her arm behind her back to force her to the bedroom where he had been hiding. While she slept that morning, he had prepared the bed with a pair of handcuffs he had taken from the nightstand and with belts he had pulled from the closet. Once she was bound to the bed, he would do anything he wanted and savor all of it.

Chapter 4

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Angie could not believe it was happening to her. These things were not supposed to happen to good girls from neighborhoods with white picket fences. Something wet trickling down her cheek distracted her, so she rolled her upper lip inside her mouth and noted an odd coppery taste. She must be bleeding. She was unsure where it came from, just that it was there, the same as him. Instinctively, she tried to move her arms to wipe away the blood. Instead, she felt a stabbing pain in her wrists along with something slick and knew the handcuffs had cut into her skin.

Please.

She had not meant to speak. The plea emerged as a whisper of her subconscious thoughts, a last hope that maybe this was not happening. She was answered with a satisfied grunt, and everything stopped.

Oh my God, he had finished.

The panic returned, and she started to struggle again. Her hands frantically jerked up and down the smooth, cold, wrought iron posts of the bed's headboard without finding an opening. The chain on the handcuffs scraped and slid without revealing any weakness. The pain in her wrists and the resistance of the handcuffs reminded her it was hopeless. How could this be happening to her?

Such a good girl.

The words forced Angie to close her eyes. A last irrational thought crossed her mind that if she did not look at or listen to him, he would be gone.

Open your eyes. The words were whispered and close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath.

Angie squeezed her eyes closed with a greater determination to block all light and everything it revealed.

Open your eyes.

Her violator grabbed her jaw, turned her face upwards and squeezed until Angie thought the bone would shatter. The pressure was causing her teeth to cut the inside of her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at him. The face was illuminated by an eerie sunlight seeping in around the bedroom's closed blinds. The person had removed the mask they had been wearing, and for the first time, Angie saw the face. Please, no.

Angie heard a terrifying chuckle. You know you are going to die, don't you?

Angie wanted to scream, to fight, to do something. This could not be happening to her. This made no sense. However, it was happening, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Part I

Old Acquaintances

Chapter 5

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While you put the bike away, I am going to take a shower.

Sure.

Samantha was already unlocking the garage to house door when Flint answered. Closing the door behind her, she left the suffocating August air behind. She slipped her shoes off without untying them and headed for the main bedroom. The air conditioning speckled her hot, sweaty skin with goosebumps. On the way, she peeled her damp tank top over her head, revealing the black Nike sports bra she was wearing. Next, she removed the thin black ponytail holder so she could run her fingers through her moist hair, shaking the long blonde locks out, feeling both relief and shock from the cool air.

Samantha was in the embrace of a euphoria that she only experienced after a strenuous workout. As satisfying as it was, her desire to step into a hot, steamy shower was overpowering and consumed her thoughts as she moved through the house. She opened the bedroom door and entered, heading for her bathroom. Glancing towards the bed as she walked across the room, she saw something that made her look again. When the scene registered, she turned back towards the bed. When she saw it the second time and processed the image, she stumbled backward into her dresser and screamed.

The screams rang through the room and down the hallway. Samantha wanted to follow the noise out of the room but remained. Staring at the gruesome scene in front of her caused her breath to come in gasps. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. She was suffocating. In a moment, her husband, Flint, came running in with their neighbor, Tim. Samantha watched as a glimpse of horror showed on Flint’s face and then disappeared. Samantha knew part of Flint’s training as a detective was to deal with situations like this without emotion. However, it was not every day you found your sister-in-law naked and dead on your bed.

Acting like a hero right out of the movies, Flint came to her and began walking her across the room while blocking her sister’s body from view. By the time they reached the hallway, Sam realized she was no longer screaming. Unsure of what to do, she did as Flint told her and waited in the hall as images of her younger sister engraved a scene into her memory.

Chapter 6

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Forcing emotion from his mind and reacting out of reflex, Flint reentered the bedroom and found Tim staring at the bed. His skin was ghastly white, and he looked as if he was going to be sick.

Tim. Flint grabbed Tim’s arm to draw his attention. Tim, I need you to take Samantha and go to your house. Call 911 and tell them we have a body in a police officer’s house, and the intruder may still be in the area. Go now and yell if you see anyone.

Tim remained where he stood. He was staring at the body again.

Tim. Go now before it is too late.

The forcefulness in his voice finally broke through Tim’s shock, and it was then it appeared that Tim realized the intruder may still be in the house. Tim left the room in a hurry with a new sense of urgency and fear, only briefly slowing to grab Samantha’s hand to lead her out of the house. After he was gone, Flint quickly went to his dresser and opened the top drawer with his shirt sleeve, being sure not to touch anything the intruder may have. His backup weapon, a 92FS Beretta, was still there. He grabbed the pistol, thinking it was unlikely an intruder would have touched the gun and left it. Besides, he desperately wanted the comfort of having a gun in his hand, and his primary piece was still in the car. He checked the clip and jacked a shell into the chamber. He moved towards the bathroom, off his bedroom, with the gun leading the way. After clearing the room, he retreated toward the hallway.

Before he left the room, Flint stopped and took one last look over his shoulder. His sister-in-law, barely 17 years old, had suffered a fate she never deserved. She was so young with such a bright future, and it had all been cruelly taken away. Turning his mind from tragedy to responsibility, Flint looked away, trying to forget what he had seen and stepped into the hallway to search the rest of the house.

Chapter 7

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A ringing phone was somewhere nearby, and Michaela knew it was what woke her. If only she could find it in the dark. Apparently, her room darkening blinds worked as advertised. She struggled off the couch and stubbed her toe on the coffee table, causing her to swear. When she heard the glass roll off the edge and break, she swore again. At least the vodka bottle seemed safe because she never heard it fall. The phone rang again, splitting her head. How much had she drunk last night? She hobbled across the room and finally found the phone.

Yeah. Her voice was short and groggy.

Special Agent Kaden?

Yeah, who is this?

It is your captain.

Um, sorry, sir.

You sound as if you were asleep? It is 2 p.m.

Yes, sir. We were on a sting operation all night. Looking for the rapist prowling The Ohio State University Campus. I go back on at 10 p.m.

Not now. Effective immediately, you are transferred to a new case. Get to ... Zanesville, Ohio. It looks like it is 50 miles east or so of Columbus. Take I-70, call me when you are on the road, and I will bring you up to speed.

Transfer? Michaela’s head was not working at full capacity, but she knew she had to fight the transfer. She was close to catching the pervert who had been preying on young college girls.

You can’t move me to another case. We have the killer’s pattern and will nail him any night. It was my profiling that cracked his patterns. Plus, I am the bait to draw him out. My appearance matches those of his victims.

"As for your appearance, the bureau can always find another attractive young brunette with a hard body.

Also, I know it was your profiling, and that is why you have been transferred. Furthermore, I can assign or reassign you anytime I want. This is a priority. A cop’s sister-in-law was raped and killed in his house, and she happened to be a federal judge’s daughter. The media will be all over this story. This case needs to be wrapped up nice and neat before some hick from the local police department strings the perp up with his nuts in his mouth. Do I make myself clear?

Yes, sir. Michaela ground her teeth, infuriated over not having any say in the matter.

Cheer up, Michaela. Close this case before the media gets out of hand, and your career will be made. This is the opportunity someone like you needs.

Yes, sir. I am on my way, sir. Michaela swallowed her anger. She had not joined the F.B.I. to become famous or rise to an office managerial job where she would sit behind a desk all day. Being on the front lines and bringing justice to the world was what drove her. The way she saw it, saving young college girls from a rapist, was as important as some judge’s daughter.

Good. I will expect a call from you in twenty minutes, at which time I will complete your briefing.

Yes, sir. Michaela hung up the phone and said to herself, I have auburn hair. I’m not a brunette jackass.

Chapter 8

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Michaela parked her car along a curb framed with simple one and two-story mid-western houses surrounded by manicured lawns. Old oak and maple trees formed a canopy over the street, allowing only a splattering of light to shine through. Despite it being late summer with long dry days, all the yards were a lush golf course green. It was the perfect modern-day Leave it to Beaver neighborhood. Except for today, there was crime scene tape and police cruisers everywhere. Neighbors had gathered in their yards and were staring while they gossiped about what was going on inside.

The indecency of the neighbors irritated Michaela. She wanted to order them inside, but she bit her tongue and continued to the house that was the center of attention. The lack of sleep and the touch of hangover had given her a bitter outlook. A blue uniform tried to stop her, but she flashed her credentials and walked by, snubbing him. Michaela Kaden had full access to the newest grotesque rape murder. She was a lucky girl.

You want me to stay calm? My husband is a cop, yet my sister is lying in my bed, raped and dead down the hallway. If you can’t prevent that, how will you catch this guy or protect us? Protect and serve? You can’t even protect one of your own. You’re worthless.

Samantha. A tall, thirty-some good-looking man in street clothes walked towards the hysterical woman. At the same time, everyone else in the room stood motionless, trying to avoid being a direct target of her rant. The