Red Ribbons in Her Hair Ch. 01

Author's Note:

This is another that was published and that I got back from the publisher just a little while ago. I wanted to put a warning on this one. It's about a sick puppy serial killer and the detective, *sexy beast*, and Kaylee *damsel in distress*. It does have death scenes and some gore so if you don't like that stuff, you'll probably not like this one. Anyway...Take care and thanks for rereading me!!

*****

The body rolled down the hill landing at the bottom with a satisfying thump. He stood, staring down at the picture it made, bare arms and legs splayed to the four winds, her body naked and vulnerable to the elements and nightly predators.

The red silk ribbon he'd tied in her dark hair was waving jauntily in the slight breeze. Her eyes were open, staring unseeingly into the sky now just darkening with the coming night, the irises filmed over by death. A soundless scream seemed to come from her open mouth, a scream that only he would hear now, its sweet song playing over and over as he dreamed.

He took his pictures hurriedly, anxious now that she was down there with the others, the same valley off of the same hill road. He wasn't safe now, even though he'd been coming here for a while. No one had found his lovers, though they did their searches and posted their flyers. But it didn't pay not to be careful.

Leaving her, he picked his way through the dense foliage that surrounded this part of the county road. He dropped his camera in the trunk of his nondescript blue four door sedan. Anyone seeing it wouldn't know if it were a Ford or a Chevy, Pontiac or even a Buick. It was unnoticeable, unremarkable. Just a car parked on the side of the road while the driver took a leak.

He slipped into the driver's seat, pushing the key into the ignition with a grunt of relief. His reflection in the rear view mirror caught his attention and he tipped it so that he could see himself better. Brown hair, clean, parted on the side. Not too long, not too short. His face was pleasant, a little boyish but nothing that stood out. Medium height, medium weight, and a little on the nerdy looking side there was nothing about him that would scream: "Hey I just finished killing my fifth girl! Look at me!"

He smiled into the mirror, watching the average man smile back at him. There was nothing creepy about that smile, nothing that stood out. He was just an average, nondescript man with a normal smile. He sighed and stared down at his hands. He did have nice hands, capable of playing piano virtuosos as well strangling the life out of his victims. He cracked his knuckles, warmed up his fingers as if he were getting ready to play one of the greats, Mozart or Chopin. Yes, he did have nice hands.

He started the car, pulling out onto the road carefully. He didn't want to leave too deep of tire marks, someone might stop and check, maybe find something in his trail that he had missed. He didn't want to lose this spot, it was better for the girls, being left here together. It was nicer that they had each other for companionship out here in the cold and the dark. He didn't want to search out another spot.

It was a nice night, cool enough to be comfortable with the window cracked. He turned on the radio, tuning in on an old Bob Seger song. The words flowed through him, the musical beat making his heart sing with rhythm. "Out here I am...on the road again," he sang, beating his thumb against the steering wheel. "Here I am...up on the sta..age."

His mind turned to the next one as he sang. She was a pretty piece, long brunette hair that swung in an almost perfect curve across her middle back, big brown eyes that sparkled with laughter as she talked. She was tall and slim, pretty perfection in a trim package. And he couldn't wait to taste her.

He kept something of each of his girls. From sweet Susan he'd kept her watch. It sat under his pillow at night, ticking away the seconds with a sound that reminded him of the ticking of her heart before she'd died. Funny Frannie had given him an earring, green jade, an unusual stone and one meant for luck. She'd brought him luck, leading him to his next girl who'd been her roommate.

Joyous Jill had been a real find. She'd had a beautiful voice. She'd sung for him on those long nights they'd spent together. He kept the tapes he'd made, his playing and her voice, to listen to now that her voice was forever silenced. Jill had given him her ring. Silver and turquoise in an Indian design, a present from her mother, she'd said when he took it from her, her voice begging him to let her keep it. He'd treasure it too, now, just as she had.

Risqué Rhonda. He smiled at the thought of that perky little brunette. She'd been a handful, fighting him tooth and nail. And she'd been a virgin to boot. How many times was he going to find a girl in this day and age at 23 years old and still a virgin? She'd been such a pleasure to tame. But then she'd become boring, mewling and crying as he'd plunged into her relentlessly. He'd taken a lock of her hair, such beautiful dark hair. It sat, braided neatly with tiny red ribbons holding the ends together, curled into a small glass bowl by his bedroom window. He loved to run his hands over the smooth braid, feel the silky hair. And remember.

Alluring Allison, the latest of his wonderful collection, sweet, seductive and sensual with her dark flowing locks and her red luscious lips, he'd known in an instant that she was meant to be his. She'd come on to him, teasing him, tempting him until he'd been unable to resist. And when he'd responded, kissing that full mouth, holding that ripe body to his, she'd screamed and cried and begged. No other sound was as special, no other sound filled his heart the way those pleas for mercy did. And when he was done with her, when her body lay bruised and broken under his, he'd taken this.

He reached into his pocket, carefully pulling the tiny gold cross out. The chain was twisted and tangled into knots, but he had other plans for that cross. He wiped the blood from its gleaming surface with the end of his thumb lifting it to his nose to breathe in the smell of metal, the coppery scent of blood and imagined he could still smell her sweet scent clinging like a last memory to the gold.

The drive took longer than normal, he took his time, stopping at a gas station at the other end of town and getting gas, using his credit card. He'd put ten dollars in earlier, using cash at a gas station he never used before, keeping his head turned, being friendly but not overly so and making sure the station was busy when he went in. No one would remember him there.

He stopped at his normal grocers and picked up a gallon of milk and some cat food. His orange colored tom, Buddha, would be hungry and complaining by the time he finally got home. As he was walking out, a woman walked in, her eyes on the purse that she was searching through. She bumped into him, reaching out a hand to steady herself and him.

"I'm so sorry," she said, looking up into his eyes. "Are you okay?"

His heart beat erratically, his mind raced. She was beautiful, with golden skin and dark hair, eyes so brown they almost looked black. When she smiled, her full strawberry colored lips pulled away from brilliant white teeth. Her hand, when she touched him, was soft and gentle, a caring hand, a tender hand.

"I'm, uh, fine. Are you okay?" he managed to ask around the lump that was his heart.

"Yes," she laughed. "I can be such a klutz." She looked over her shoulder towards the store and smiled at him distractedly. "Well, you have a good night now. I'm sorry if I hurt you." She waved as she turned, her short skirt bouncing along with her hair as she jogged towards the shopping carts.

His eyes followed, his mouth moving over words he wished he had said, witty words that would have left an impression upon her. She was so incredibly beautiful, bouncy and bubbly. He watched until she disappeared, slender tan legs moving athletically under her skirt, full hips swaying gracefully. He waited for the lust, for the call for blood to come from inside, but it was strangely silent.

Instead, he turned, making his way almost blindly to his car. Dropping the bag into the passenger seat, he sat behind the steering wheel, his eyes moving over every figure as they left. When he finally saw her, she was carrying her groceries in one arm, a bag of chips opened at the top. She munched on one as she reached an ancient red Camaro that had seen better and happier days. Pulling open the door with a loud screech that he could hear on his side of the lot, she climbed in, flashing long tawny thighs as her skirt rode up.

He felt an ache start in his groin, felt his cock twitch as he watched her pull the door closed. She started the car and he saw her pet the dash, an affectionate little gesture he could almost feel himself as it caused his cock to stir to life in his pants. The inside of his mouth was dry and he reached for the mints he kept in the car, popping one in his mouth before starting his own car. He needed to see where this beautiful angel lived.

All other thoughts fled but of her. He had to know her name, had to find out where she lived and who she lived with. She was going to be his. But he wouldn't kill her. No, she was special, she would be his forever.

Her car pulled from the lot and he followed, wondering if she knew just how special tonight was going to be to her.

Following the Camaro wasn't difficult even in the heavy Friday traffic. Her right taillight was out, making it easier for him to keep her in view. He followed her, hanging back a few cars, managing to just slip past the lights before they turned red. When she pulled off the street and into the driveway of a medium sized ranch house, he kept going, finding a halfway deserted alley to park his car in about a block down.

Locking it, he walked back the way he had come, just an average man out for a walk on the street in the soft evening air. A hedge next to her house became his cover and he slipped into the backyard, stopping every few feet to listen intently for annoying dogs or people that might spot him.

His breathing sounded loud in his ears, but he knew it wasn't. It was excitement, the beginning of the hunt that had his heart racing with joy, the air whistling into his lungs. A light came on, the square shining brightly into the dark backyard, almost seeming to reach out to him with its aura of life and warmth. He slid past the bushes, noiselessly brushing through branches and stepping over sticks until he could see inside the room.

* * * *

Kaylee Cranston pulled her antique Camaro into the driveway of the house that she shared with two other girls. For once the house was dark, the driveway empty and she could pull close to the back door instead of parking near the road. Both her roommates had gone out of town to visit their families, to reassure them that they were okay. With the strange disappearances of five girls in town, everyone was a little spooked.

Even she was taking more precautions then before, making sure the house was locked at night, carrying the pepper spray her dad had given her when she'd moved away from home four years before. Yes, it was past its expiration date but she didn't have the funds to replace it and she hoped that just the threat might discourage someone who tried to attack her.

Walking into the darkened house took a little courage on her part, but she unlocked the door and flipped on the switch, walking into the brightly lit kitchen while laughing at her fears. Setting her bag down, she unloaded the groceries she had bought, milk, cereal, chips and bread, putting it all away before checking for messages.

There was nothing from Sam. Kaylee gave in and let a disgusted sigh slip from between her parted lips. She didn't know why she even bothered looking anymore. He wasn't going to call. She'd given the ultimatum two weeks ago and she'd lost. He was staying with his wife. Well, at least she'd found out now before she'd invested anymore time or emotions into her relationship with him.

She picked up her mail from off of the counter where she'd dropped it, weeding out the junk mail and tossing it in the trash. With a sigh, she threw the rest in her purse and headed down the hall that led to her bedroom. A bath and then bed was all she could think about. Even though it was Friday, she had no date. She had turned down everyone with hopes that Sam would call. Now she felt disgust at herself that she'd even hoped he would call.

Dropping her purse onto the chair, she closed her bedroom door. Flicking on the light switch, she went to the closet and got out her robe. She kicked off her shoes, dropping down on the bed to rub her aching arches. Sixty hours this week on her feet, waiting tables, bussing them when Rob, their bus boy fell behind, being a prep cook. She was tired and ready for her two days off.

Standing, she pulled the polo shirt off over her head, pulling her hair through the neck hole, and then letting it fall to the floor, stretching a little as she did. Kaylee unhooked her bra, letting it drop forward and off her shoulders, dropping it on top of her shirt. She ran her hands over the slight marks on her shoulders, rubbing them gently. It felt so good, being touched and caressed, even if it was by her own fingers.

Standing, she let her hand slide over the tops of her breasts and around the firm globes, shivering as her fingers nudged taut nipples. She squeezed them gently, watching herself in the mirror over her dresser.

Her head tipped to the side, her hair caressing her back as it swung with the movement. She sucked one long nailed finger into her mouth, wetting it with her tongue and then ran it around her nipple feeling her areola crinkle and tighten. Throbbing tugs of sensation pulsed through her body and she grew damp and swollen between her thighs.

"Mmmm," Kaylee groaned, pulling gently on her nipple to keep those sensations growing. Her head fell back, her eyes half closed and she caught her bottom lip between white teeth. It'd been too long since the last time Sam had been able to get away, weeks since she'd felt a man's body against her own. And though a vibrator was a survival tool for a woman, hers had been getting much too much of a work out recently.

She unzipped her skirt, wiggling it over her full rounded bottom and let it drop at her feet. Clad only in a tiny red silk thong, she stared at herself in her mirror. Her hands slid down her stomach one slipping under silk and sleek lace to slide over dark, finely textured curls and delve in the hot, wet slit between her thighs. Her eyes closed in pleasure, her fingers brushing delicately over the tight knot of her clit, rubbing gently, flicking and moving it until her hips jerked in reaction and she could feel the growing swell of pleasure that heralded release.

Kaylee's knees felt weak, her heart rate sped until she could hear it beating in her ears like a roaring tidal wave. She pretended it was his heartbeat, her dream man's. He'd come up behind her, seeing her dressed in such a scanty and provocative manner. His arms would wrap around her from behind, his hand cupping one breast, the other tipping her face to his so that he could find her lips. His mouth would be hot, she thought. And wet, his tongue finding hers as he took what he wanted from her.

His hands would demand her surrender, they would take without asking. And she'd willingly give. He'd mold her flesh, move her the way he wanted her. His mouth would give pleasure and demand that she do the same. She'd be helpless against his pull, lost to his desires. She could almost see him behind her in the mirror, his dark head bent over, watching his hands as he touched her, as he took her.

Her fingers quickened their own pace, dipping into the soft heat of her, thrusting into her cunt, feeling the wetness of excited flesh before circling round the sensitive bud of her clit. She was so close, her breath hissed out of her mouth, low moans mixing with impassioned pleas to her fantasy lover to fuck her, fuck her harder. In her mind she willed him to look up, to watch them in the mirror, to take her while he watched their flesh cleave and part. She wanted to see his eyes.

Eyes! A startled shriek escaped her lips as she saw the reflection of eyes in her mirror, eyes that were in the shadowed face of the man who was looking into her window. She whirled, reaching down to pick up her shirt and hold it in front of her as her eyes met his for one long second.

Then he turned, and she heard the crashing of garbage cans as he ran. A car door slammed and she hurried out of the room, still clutching her shirt, trying to see if she could see a make of car or a license plate, anything. By the time she reached the window, he was gone.

She ran for the phone and called the police.

A half an hour later, Kaylee told her story to a stone faced policeman. She wore a knee length, kimono styled heavy satin robe in brilliant jade green, holding the stiff collar closed with her fist at her throat as she gave the details to him once again.

"I was getting undressed. I was going to take a bath. I...I saw eyes in the mirror and turned and he just kept staring at me. I think I screamed and he ran. I tried to get a look at his car but I wasn't quick enough." Kaylee looked up at the cop, her face turning red as she skipped over a few tiny details.

Officer John James looked at the beautiful girl, his eyes taking in the blush. He knew she was leaving something out and had a good idea what it was. A sadistic side of him was urging him to force the details out of her. He opened his mouth and his partner came in, carrying an evidence bag.

"We got footprints in the soil outside her window and I found this caught on some shrubs out there." He held up the bag which contained a small scrap of red ribbon. "Is this yours ma'am?" Officer Robert Langdon asked.

"No, I don't think it is." Kaylee wrapped her arms tighter around her, more than a little freaked out. The man had been in her yard, watching her undress. Watching her...masturbate. She felt invaded, almost raped, her privacy taken from her by one man.

"I also found a small...ah," Officer Langdon hesitated as if searching for the right word, "biological sample."

Kaylee closed her eyes, silently wishing she could ignore this nightmare. "You mean, he jerked off out there watching me, right?"

"Yes," Langdon's face was as red as Kaylee's. "We'll take a sample, see if his DNA's in our system. It'll take a while to do though, ma'am. I'm sorry to say, this technology isn't fast."

"So what do I do in the mean time?"

"Keep your doors and windows locked, keep your blinds down, your drapes closed. If you have any more problems, call us and we'll get right out here. I'll see about having a cruiser come through your neighborhood for the next few days." James put his pen back in his pocket and stood. "Ma'am, most of the time, these perverts are just looking for a thrill. You scared him away, you saw him. He won't come back here. He'll be looking for easier pickings. If you follow what we said, you'll probably never see him again."

Kaylee felt a chill shudder through her. Every cop drama, crime movie and detective show she'd ever seen came back to haunt her. "I do nothing, you do nothing, and ...What if he comes back?"

"Then you call us."

It all sounded so simple. But it had taken them fifteen minutes to get here the first time. Kaylee held back her sigh of disgust and showed them the door, watching as they walked around the side of the house before she closed and locked the door. For once she wished her roommates Ann and Ruth were home.

She sat in the living room and waited until the police left before going into her bedroom. Then she stared out the window at the empty back yard. She'd looked out here so many times in the year she'd been living here and had seen it as just a yard, a place to have parties, to spend time with Sam when he could get away. Now it had a different feeling to it, a dirty, almost evil feeling.