Joan walked over to the technician scraping at a black mass at the base of a tombstone. “Any indications about this substance?”
The man was a small redhead with freckles. “It is imbedded and eroded consistent with having been deposited here, ten to fourteen months ago. I believe it is pure carbon that has only failed to completely erode due to a bedding and coating of grease. It’s just a guess right now, but I think two people were incinerated here—cooked right on this spot!”
What a gross little man.
“Thank you!”
Nice young trainable piece-of-ass at five o’clock.
She turned to the tall thin brunette. “Could you search the internet from your mobile laptop?”
The woman was so repressed Joan could taste it on her breath. “Yes, what do you need?”
“Search the name Jay; boxing, MMA. See what’s out there.”
She walked over to the overweight kid with the metal detector to question him and was interrupted by the tall brunette. “It can’t be this easy. Oh, you won’t believe this? This is our subject. How did you know?”
Fake it, fake it good, Joan.
“It’s why I was brought in.”
Joan walked over to her and looked over her shoulder, to see a video of some blood-drenched cage fight at a biker rally, featuring the bald, scarred, tattooed specimen. The woman scrolled through this site, and two linked sights, and they soon discovered that there was a wealth of information about this animalistic caveman. The oddest thing about the hour or so of footage and stills she viewed was a video of this meathead standing in some old lady’s living room with an American Indian beauty on his arm, signing autographs for kids and even answering questions about a proposed fight in the Himalayas against a yeti?”
What is up with the young American Indians?
The boy is rated-G cute. The two females are stunning. This must have something to do with a slavery ring; catering to an exclusive child porn and Asian fetish clientele.
Tina suggested that Brucasio was muscle for a child trafficking network.
Maybe Tina is on our side?
Christ, Brucasio is on the loose!
What could possibly be up with the atmospheric aspect?
She looked the tall brunette in the eyes. “Agent?”
“Special Agent Smoot.”
“Smoot get interviews with the people in these videos. Track down the webmasters of the sites. Forget all of this forensic shit—leave that for the boys. I need a woman interviewing his contacts. I want an encyclopedia on this Jay maniac—and find Pocahontas!”
“I’m headed to Langley for now. Here, here is my card. Keep me in the loop and take a male partner; a tactical guy—a fucking murderer with a badge! Do you understand?”
She’s getting nervous and weepy. Calm her down.
“Smoot, we’re following a trail of dead bodies and anonymous boys and girls. Somebody is playing for keeps and I don’t need you getting whacked, Smoot.”
Smoot snapped out of it, and suddenly seemed really thrilled to be heading up the human side of the investigation. “Yes Ma’am!”
This ma’am shit is killing me.
