Deal With a Devil

He sat in silence in the room, just staring at the far wall as she left. He knew the police officers were still watching. The thought made him chuckle. Though, his mirth was short lived when he became aware of another presence in the room. He felt a light touch on his shoulder, and was aware of the clicking of heels on the tile floor as well as a distinct scent of perfume in the air. His lips split into a grin, hidden behind the mask he wore. "Ah, it's been a while. How've you been? Wait, let me guess... Busy?"

He watched as her form stepped around him, her fingertips drawing a slow ine across his shoulders and onto his chest. To say she was desireable was an understatement. She had perfect raven black hair, that cascaded down over her shoulders, hanging in front of half of her face. The half that could be seen was flawless; perfect skin, full, pouty red lips, and a blue grey-eye that seemed to smolder with desire, and was set into a permanent 'come hither' stare. The rest of her body was no less flawless. She stood a little tall, at maybe six even, six three with the heels, with a graceful neck, long legs, and perfect curves. It wasn't until she had straddled his lap that he noticed her outfit. A small t-shirt that barely contained her ample chest, exposing her flat midriff, complete with a cute little skull and crossbones, black stockings, and a miniskirt. "Ah, I see you're catching up with the times. But what are you doing here. You made it pretty clear I didn't fall under your jurisdiction."

"You're just as arrogant and stubborn as ever I see." He noted that even when she was mad, her voice sounded silky and sensual. "But there are bigger problems at the moment."

"Yeah, well take a number and get in line. Everyone's got problems. I'lll tell you what, I'l get to yours, after I sort out mine." His voice had become condescending again, and she withdrew slightly, her fingertips playing across the buckles of the straight jacket that held him.

"Perhaps you should hear me out. There is something big going down, and.."

"Not... Interested." He said, simply, indicating the conversation was over.

She looked at him with a seething anger, but said nothing, instead standing up, and walking past his line of sight. It's funny how the perfume smell always vanished with her.

_____

Agent Winters and Chief Woods walked back into the observation room and sat down, watching him.

"What's he doing?" Agent Winters said, looking at Woods who just shrugged.

"Like I said, he's crazy. It's not uncommmon to see him talking to himself." He raised his coffee to take a sip of the hot black liquid.

"Yeah, but is that even english? It doesn't sound like it." She asked, listening more intently. It sounded almost like Russian, with the hard consonants, but it was throatier, rougher.

"Nah, I think it's just something he does to put us on edge, like some kind of Exorcist bullshit. Don't bother trying to figure him out. It's not possible." He sighed and looked at her. "Look, I know you think is our last shot to stop this new guy, but trust me, you won't get anything out of him. I mean, there has to be something more we can do that doesn't involve him. I mean, he's just too dangeorus."

Winters sighed and looked into her coffee. "Look, I can get something out of him. I just need some time." She looked up and watched as he finished talking to himself. "And maybe this is something I can use to my advantage." She stood up and walked for the door. "Well, wish me luck."

_____

He looked up as the blonde entered again, and sighed. "Great, I get rid of one, to be plagued by another. When are they going to realize that it'll take more than blowjob lips, a tight ass, and a nice rack to get my cooperation?"

Winters bit back a retort, taking a deep breath and setting herself down at the table. "Look, Mr. Graves..."

"Justin, he corrected her, the familiar condescending attitude returning. She sighed and shook her head.

"Justin... You realize you were alone in the room just now?" She asked, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere where it might do some good.

"Was I really? You know, sometimes I just can't tell." He said, in mock surprise. She ground her teeth together.

"Okay, well why don't you tell me about who you were talking to?" She said, hoping that if sshe played his game a bit, she'd get some information. She just had to keep the conversation moving.

"Why? You interested in meeting her? Hope she's going to provide you with something useful?" He laughed a bit at this. "Not likely. First off, you don't find her; she finds you. Secondly, nobody really wants to meet her. Ever." His tone was so taunting, it grated on her nerves.

"Well, why don't you tell me about her? When did you meet? What does she do?" She was hoping the discription he gave of this hallucinitory woman could give her some insight into who he was, something she could use.

"Okay, sure. We met about nine years. I still remember the night. MMM!! We got down and dirty, I'll tell you, really got the blood flowing. As far as what she does, well, she likes to have a few secrets."

Her hands were gripping her coffee mug far tighter than they should have been, and she tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke. "Mr. Graves..."

"Justin." He corrected her again, and that was the final straw. She threw her coffee cup to one side, and all but jumped to her feet, her chair toppling behind her. "Listen you bastard!! There is no first name basis between us! There never will be!! So I will call you Mr. Graves all I fucking want!!"

He seemed almost amused by her outrage, which made the stone cold levelness of his own voice all the more disarming. "Fine, but like I told you, Mr. Graves is dead."

Her anger just seemed to wilt, his calm response standing impenetrable before the wrath of her anger. She turned on her heel and left the room.

_____

Woods looked at her as she walked back in, and just shook his head. "I told you. He's... You gotta' be careful with him." He gestured her to a seat. "You're under a lot of stress, and for some reason this guy just excels at aggravating people. It's really all he has though, so you just gotta' try not to let him get to you so much."

She sighed and put her head in her hands. "I know. It's just... There's something I'm missing, I know there is. Something I just can't put my finger on. And it's like an itch you can't quite reach." She shook her head. "And it's not helping. I just need some time to cool off."

The chief nodded and turned his attention back to Justin, sitting where he was. He didn't want to believe that their only chance rested with this lunatic. Just then, the door burst open.

"Chief! You'd better come quick. We just got another call. Another victim at the Skygrove Apartments." The officer said in a rush, motioning for the chief to follow him.

"Shit!" He said, standing up and grabbing his coat. He stopped at the door, turning to look at Winters. "Agent Winters?" She turned to look at him. "Whatever it is you have planned, please, try to hurry." And with that he was out the door.

Winters sighed and looked at the file she had set down. She pulled it over to her and began to leaf through it again. She wished she had more to go on. His physical said he was fine, his psyche evaluation was a nightmare, his court record said he was arested seven years ago and charged with twenty-nine accounts of first degree murder. All stuff she either knew or wasn't important at the moment. The rest of it was just baffling. He just seemed to pop into existence about a decade ago. He also had very few distinguishing marks, just a few scars really. She looked through the window at him. He was like a puzzle box that was holding its own solution. She flopped the file back down on the table and buried her head in her hands.

"What am I missing?" She muttered to herself, peeking up for a moment, only to notice one of the pictures in the file had slipped out. She was going to tuck it back in. It was just a photo of him, one of his distinguishing marks. A scar on his torso to be exact. As she moved to grab the folder though, something seemed to tug at the back of her mind, and she looked at the picture.

It was a pretty large scar along the front of his torso, though it was weird. It wasn't sloppy or jagged. Her fingers traced the line lightly, up until it branched partway up his sternum. "A 'Y' shaped scar?" She looked at him through the window again, then back at the photo. A 'Y' shaped scar with signs of surgical precision? "An autopsy." She whispered to herself. But why would he have an autopsy scar? What was the missing piece? She went to the recorder, rewinding the tape, and playing. Maybe she had missed something. She listened intently for any clues she may have missed, but she didn't hear anything that sounded even remotely clue like. She was growing more frustrated, when the end of the interrogation played.

"Fine, but like I told you, Mr. Graves is dead." She caught that, and stopped cold, looking at the picture, then back at him. There was a connection there, she just knew it.

"Umm... Agent Winters? Are you okay?" One of the officers in the room asked. She had been so caught up in what she was doing, she had forgotten they were there.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." She said, trying not to look too surprised. "Actually, I'm going to need access to some files from the past ten years or so."

"Okay, yeah. If you'll follow me, we have most of them electronically logged to make them easier to find. What are you looking for specificaly, if I may ask?"

She followed him from the room, looking at the picture she still held in her hands. "Death records."

To be continued...

Author's Note: Well, there's chapter two. It was better, but my computer spazzed and deleted the entire original, so I had to try to remember it and rewrite it, a hard task when you've just suffered a devestating blow to your motivation. Sorry it's moving so slow, but if you stick with it, it will speed up, promise. As always ratings and reviews are appreciated. Thanks.