Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Amid the hustle of morning life, a deep blue Mini Cooper pulled up to the curb in front of this invisible building. A few seconds later, the car’s headlights clicked off, and it disappeared into the shadows of dawn. A moment later, the driver’s side door swung open, and a woman stepped out. Pulling her jacket tightly around her body, she pushed the door shut, and pressed the lock button on her key. With a ‘click,’ the lights flashed and the doors locked. She shivered once, her auburn waves tussled by the morning breeze. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she quickly made her way toward the building, her heels clicking against the asphalt.
She approached the front door, reaching for the handle. With what one might consider excess force, she grasped the handle, pulling open the glass door. She pulled her jacket tighter, not believing it was colder inside than it was outside. She quickened her pace, making her way down a cold, sterile hallway. The building seemed lifeless. Well, it was early. A few more steps and she banked right, inserting a key into the doorknob of a wooden door. This particular door seemed out of place; everything else was metallic, sterile, and lifeless. This door was reminiscent of a family den. Odd really.
She pulled the door open, quickly disappearing behind it, leaving the outside hallway desolate once more. With a sigh, she stepped over to the thermostat, raising it to a livable sixty degrees. Her pace slowed as she stepped over to a coat rack. She removed her coat, hanging it on an empty hook. She reached over and removed what appeared to be a white lab coat, a shiver running up her spine as its cold material came in contact with her body. She turned from the coat rack in the corner of the small office, her eyes quickly surveying the all-too-familiar room. A large wooden desk sat near the center of the room, a desk chair behind it. A large rug was laid in front of it, and the coat rack was pressed into the front left corner of the room. Other than those few items, and what was sitting on the desk, the only other adornment was what appeared to be a large mirror, positioned over a door on the far wall. She made her way over to the desk, taking a seat in the desk chair. Soundlessly, she opened a drawer in the desk, and placed her purse inside. She leaned over, resting her arms on the desk, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders. A long silver chain fell to the desk, the silver cross she always wore making a clicking sound as it hit the hardwood of the desk. She turned her gaze to the telephone sitting on the left side of her desk, noting that she had a message; she just didn’t feel like checking it at the moment. With that thought, she opened another drawer, taking out a pair of latex gloves and a facemask. Sliding her chair back, she donned the gloves and facemask, and shut the drawer.
With that she stood up, and opened the door in the back of her office. What she stepped into was in stark contrast to where she had come from. It was a large room, with many doors, and what appeared to be three operating tables near the center. Across the back wall were rows of square drawers, very similar to those of file cabinets. Taking hold of what appeared to be a metal gurney, she made her way to the wall of drawers. She positioned the gurney perpendicular to the wall, slightly under and to the right of one of the drawers. She slowly opened the drawer, seemingly using a good deal of effort. When fully extended, the drawer was about seven feet long. When it had been pulled out as far is it would reach, she walked around to the side with the gurney, unhooked the side of the drawer, and removed its contents. Now, those contents most likely would have frightened a great many people, as they consisted of a sheet, and a female corpse.
After the body had been placed on the gurney, she reattached the side of the drawer and shut it. She then wheeled the body over to the nearest table, placing it on said table. Now, this may seem like something very suspicious and odd to most people, but you see, this woman is Cameron Eaton, Dr. Cameron Eaton to be more precise. She is twenty seven years old, and a forensic pathologist.
A moment later, she checked the tag on the body’s foot, taking mental note of which case this was. With that, she realized she had left her paperwork in her office, and hurried over to retrieve it. Once she stepped inside her office, she was once again reminded of the flashing light on her telephone. She stepped over to the phone, a pad of paper and pencil in her hand. What she heard was the last thing she ever expected.
When the tape stopped playing, Cameron was speechless. It was the FBI. They…they wanted to work with her on a case. Apparently, one of her bodies (actually, the one she had just been working on) was the suspected victim of a cross-country serial killer, thus involving the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Cameron couldn’t believe it. This was her dream come true: working side by side with the FBI. Quickly shaking her head to relieve her stupor, she replayed the tape once more, and jotted down a phone number. She would have to call them back soon, after she had taken another look at the victim. She quickly retrieved the paperwork she had entered for, and made her way back to the corpse. She skimmed the papers, recalling information. Jane Doe, approximately twenty two years old, striations on wrists and ankles, suggesting bondage. Cause of death: two gunshot wounds to the forehead, .38 caliber, bullets recovered… Ah, now she remembered. This was supposedly a tough case for investigators. No identification, nothing to compare fingerprints to, no known dental records; in short, no leads. Well, it would be nice to have the expertise of the FBI, though she wondered how a murder as simple as this could leave an MO. With that thought, she recovered the body with the sheet, and returned to her office to return the call.
The next morning Cameron made sure she arrived early. Well, earlier than usual. She needed to be up to date on this victim; she was meeting with the FBI today. She took the initiative to contact the detectives on the case. Surprisingly, they knew less than she thought they did. Apparently this woman was found near the side of an abandoned road, leaving out the possibility that the killer was familiar with the area. And oddly enough, her clothes had no telltale fibers or anything of the sort to tell Cameron and the other forensics experts where she had been. It was very much a no leads case.
The victim herself had been recently murdered when she was handed over to Dr. Eaton. The body hadn’t decayed even slightly, and was in the early stages of rigor mortis. Both bullets had lodged in her skull, and were fired side by side from point blank range. It really was an odd case, and Cameron couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
She checked her watch, noting that her meeting was in a half an hour. She covered the victim up, placing her back in the drawer. She was sure the special agent would want to look at the victim, but she couldn’t risk anything happening to her. As soon as the victim was returned, she disposed of her gloves and mask, and made her way back to her office. She removed her lab coat, placing it on its hook on the coat rack, and took a seat behind her desk. She pulled out the file on this victim, reviewing for the few minutes before the agent arrived. She immersed herself in the file, pouring through the information. This really was an interesting case― she was shocked out of her reading by a knock on her office door. Her head jolted up, stunned for a moment before she remembered who it was. She jumped up, smoothing her skirt, and quickly making her way over to the door. She took a deep breath, and opened it.
Before her stood a man in a dark suit. He was actually quite handsome. He had dark curly hair, and a pleasant face. He seemed to be in his early thirties.
“Dr. Eaton, I presume,” he said, a slight smirk on his face, hand outstretched. She tried hard not to smile, to seem professional, but she wasn’t quite sure she pulled it off.
“Yes,” she replied sharply. Then, embarrassed by her rudeness, gave up the charade and attempted to be herself. “Yes, I am Dr. Cameron Eaton. Lovely to meet you.” She shook his hand as he replied with his name.
“Special Agent Rafelli. Jonathan Rafelli. Pleasure.” With that Cameron stepped aside, ushering Agent Rafelli inside, to a chair she had set in front of her desk. As he sat down, she stepped behind her desk and took her seat. She reached for the victim’s file, mindlessly straightening it. “Umm…Yes. So you have an interest in one of my Jane Does?”
Rafelli cleared his throat, suddenly appearing very professional. “Yes, ma’am. We believe your Jane Doe may be one Lisa Jackson.” He pushed a photo across her desk. She reached over, taking the photo in her hands. Oh…she couldn’t believe it. This was her victim. Lisa Jackson. “How…How did you find her?”
“Miss Jackson disappeared the day before this body was delivered to you. The FBI has been tracking a serial killer whose victims were very similar to Miss Jackson, and whose MO was reflected on you corpse. I believe it’s safe to say the FBI will be working side by side with you, as we believe our killer is still in the area.”
“How long does he usually stay in the vicinity of a murder? And…and who exactly is the suspect?”
Rafelli leaned over, presenting another photograph. “He usually stays in one area approximately three days. And that is him. One Jack Brand. He’s a former law enforcement officer.” Ah, that explained the two shots to the forehead; a double tap.
Cameron leaned back, with both photos in her hands. Lisa was so pretty, and Brand…he certainly didn’t look like a murderer. “So, we have three days to find this man.”
“Correct. I hope you don’t like sleep,” he said with a smile, his joking self returning. “We better get started.”
The next two days flew by. Cameron couldn’t believe the excitement. It seems Agent Rafelli was the agent in charge of the case, so most of the time she was working side by side with him. She had presented Jackson’s body to him that day, and he confirmed Brand’s MO: bondage, .38 caliber, double tap. He had Jackson’s dental records checked with the body’s and they matched, and DNA evidence taken from the victim matched that of Jack Brand.
Rafelli briefed Cameron on prior cases and victims of Brand’s, and his record of social service, including his discharge. Everything just seemed to piece together. This once unknown woman suddenly had an identity, and a murderer. And Agent Rafelli was a joy to work with. Cameron was known for indecisiveness, and her need for approval. But for some reason, being around Agent Rafelli (was it just him, or the fact that he was FBI?) robbed her of these two undesirable qualities. She was slowly becoming a different person; more confident, more decisive, more professional. And she attributed it to this agent, this…joker. How strange.
On the eve of the second day, Rafelli contacted Cameron. He sounded serious.
“Local detectives and FBI believe they have found Brand. They are closing in on him as we speak. My question is this: Would you be willing to testify in court? I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not the safest thing you can do, and we…I completely understand if you refuse.”
Cameron sat at her desk with the phone to her ear. Testify? She’d never thought of that option. And the usually light hearted Rafelli sounded very serious, except at the end. His voice almost softened. How strange. But this was her duty, wasn’t it? What was she working for, if not a conviction? And what would her one life be, if she could save countless others? She silently fingered the cross around her neck, a smile on her face. “Of course I’ll testify,” she replied with confidence.
“I under…What? Oh, that’s great Cameron! The Bureau thanks you. I thank you.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, she swore she could hear a smile in his voice.
“I’ll contact you as soon as possible with news. Good night.” With that the line went dead. Cameron sat back for a moment, a smile on her face. Did he just use her first name? He’d never done that before…How – well, was it really that strange? With that thought, she headed home.
The next day, Cameron received a call from Agent Rafelli, stating how they had captured Brand, and how the trial was scheduled for the next week. Cameron was ecstatic, and she let Rafelli know it.
The trial went famously. The trial itself was long, but the jury deliberation was incredibly short, and Brand was given the death penalty. At the end of the trial, a grin was plastered on Cameron Eaton’s face as she left the courtroom. As she approached her car, she came upon a familiar face.
“It was great working with you Dr. Eaton. I have a feeling you have a long career ahead of you,” Agent Rafelli remarked with a smile.
“I could say the same thing, Agent,” Cameron replied with a smirk.
“I see we’re developing a sense of humor, Doctor. Well, it’s time for us agents to move on. Once again, pleasure.” He held out his hand, a sweet smile playing on his face. Cameron returned the smile, and placed her hand in his. All of a sudden she was jerked forward, pulled into a tight embrace. That was unexpected. As they separated, Rafelli was grinning playfully, but Cameron was still slightly in shock. A couple seconds later she regained her composure, and was able to return the smile. With a wave and playful salute, Rafelli turned and walked across the parking lot, toward his car. Cameron stood and watched as he drove away, shaking her head, a smile on her face. She went to put her hands in her pockets, and felt a tiny slip of paper. Confused, she unfolded it, examining it. Her cheeks reddened as she read it. It held only one word: ‘John,’ above a string of seven numbers. Underneath was a winking smiley face. Her face continued to redden as its meaning became apparent to her. And then she sighed, and smiled, staring off into the street, her eyes following his car into the distance.
