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Howard Dorough’s eyes drifted open, five minutes before his alarm clock was due, to go off. Shifting onto his side, he flipped off the alarm, before sitting up. Bringing both hands up, he lazily rubbed the sleep, from his eyes. His fingers, then, drifted up, to run through his short, dark hair, smoothing it out. Looking over his shoulder, he glanced at this sleeping wife, before lifting himself off the bed. His feet brushed across the soft carpet, as he headed for the bathroom.

Each morning was the same routine…Howard Dorough was a creature, of habit, and he liked things to stay consistent. His job, however, was anything other than consistent. As soon as he stepped foot, into the office, he had to be ready for anything, and everything. Just when he thought his day would be predictable, something would come along, and throw it for a loop.

That morning, though, he had an uneasy feeling, settled in his gut. It was not an uncommon feeling, for him, so he pushed it to the back, of his mind, as he slipped into his navy blue suit. Slicking some gel, into his hair, he stared at his reflection, in the mirror.

The man had it good, and he knew it. There was the upscale home loaded with leather furniture, home entertainment systems, elegant dinnerware, outside pool, Jacuzzi, and so much more. Add in several fancy cars, designer clothes, his wife’s expensive jewelry, and the house maid; and that gives you Howard Dorough’s plush life.

Not to mention that Leigh was everything he could ask for, in a wife. She was a caring woman, smart and understanding, always supportive of his, sometimes, crazy hours. He loved her, more than anything, and would do anything she asked. Howard had given her his heart, long ago, and had had no intentions, of ever receiving it back.

Finishing his morning rituals, he made his was down the carpeted, winding staircase. Flipping on the kitchen light, he settled himself at the breakfast nook. He let out a breath, as he snatched a banana, from the wooden bowl in front of him. Watching the coffee pot kick on, he sat quietly eating his fruit. By the time he had discarded the peel, the coffee was done brewing. After filling up his mug, he grabbed his black leather suitcase and headed out the door.

Entering the garage, he made his way, to his ‘baby’. He only drove the Titan Grey, Bentley Grand Tourer, to work. It was sleek and sophisticated…and he liked how professional he looked, when he rolled up, to the office, in the luxury car. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he set his briefcase on the seat, beside him. Bringing the engine, to life, he set out, on his route, to work.

It was only 20 minutes later, when he pulled into the parking garage. He took his usual path into the large building, up the elevator, and toward the homicide department. The department was buzzing, as he walked through the door. He took in the sight of his co-workers bustling around, papers practically flying. Something was up, and he knew it.//he even had a hunch, as to what it was.

“Dorough!” The head, of homicide, came sprinting, toward him. He was much taller, than Howard, and very popular, with the ladies. The man was built well, with short, spiked, blonde hair.

“Good morning, Mr. Knowles.” Howard politely greeted, the slightly older man. Lucas Knowles was a year older than Howard, but looked a few years younger…he had that baby face, that still got him carded, in the bar. Most men, in the department, would give anything, to be Lucas Knowles. Even Howard caught himself wondering, about it, sometimes.

“I reassigned all your cases, to other detectives. I need you on the Defacer case.” Howard followed his boss, through the mass, of bustling homicide detectives. Lucas grabbed a few files, from various people, as he led Howard, to his office. “You’re the best one; I’ve got, in this department, Dorough. I need you, on this case. I’ve already re-assigned the cases you were working on, so you’ll be solely working on the Defacer, now.”

“I’m gathering that he struck again?” Howard lifted a brow, as Lucas flipped through the files. Letting out a long sigh, Lucas looked up and nodded.

“Yes. Last night.” Lucas dropped the file, onto his desk, and set to filling Howard in, on the details. “Same MO. There’s a team, still, out there, now. Once again we have no prints…no fibers…no witnesses…no leads…no nothing! And…of course, the woman’s face was disfigured, pretty, badly.”

“You think…I mean could he be like…a cop, or ex-cop, or something? He seems to know everything not to do.” Howard leaned forward, taking the papers that Lucas was, now, holding out. His eyes scanned over the papers…there really wasn’t much information, on this guy.

“We better head out. You need to take a look, at the scene.” Lucas stood, stacking the papers, neatly, on his desk. “There’s not much there, as far as evidence, but you have to see what this guy is capable of.”

“Alright.” Howard nodded, as he stood. Once again, he followed Lucas, back through the bustle, of the department. They headed out, to their vehicles, as Lucas continued to talk, about this serial killer that was preying the young woman, of the Orlando area…this murderer that they knew, practically, nothing about.

Howard knew the case pretty well, even though he was not, previously, assigned to it. Heck, the whole country was familiar with the case. It was the highlight, on the news, every day and in every newspaper’s headlines. Endless calls poured into the police departments, across the state, yet none of them gave the slightest break, in the case. Police were baffled and homicide detectives were confused. This was the most professional killer that they had come across, throughout Howard’s career, in the department.

Arriving, at the scene, Howard saw swarms, of people, filling the parking lot. Television crews were breaking their necks, trying to get a story and a good shot, of the scene. Homicide detectives and police officers scrambled around the scene; some taking pictures and scouring for any kind, of evidence, while others questioned the store’s employees and others worked at controlling the crowds that were trying, to get a look.

“Let me through, people…homicide detective…step aside.” Howard’s voice was even, but firm, as he pushed through the crowd, making his way around the masses. His eyes were fixed ahead, as he neared the yellow ‘crime scene’ tape. “Detective Dorough…homicide.” He flashed his identification, to the officers on the other side, of the tape.

“Come on through.” The younger man nodded, motioning the detective to cross the line, of tape. Howard lifted the tape, and ducked under it, making his way, toward the ugly scene. He was taken aback, noticing that the victim had not, yet, been removed, from the scene. She was covered, with a standard white sheet, of sorts. Usually, the victim would be long gone, by now and off, to receive a full autopsy. He couldn’t keep himself, from wondering why her body was, still, at the scene.

“Dorough!” Spinning, toward the voice, Howard’s eyes landed on a familiar face. Seeing as the entire Orlando area was covering this case, there were a lot, of faces, that Howard did not know, or had only seen a few times. This was one, of those, that he knew, by name.

“Morning, Bradford.” The two men nodded, at each other, and began walking toward the scene. “I’ve just been re-assigned. Has Knowles arrived, yet? He was right behind me.”

“He was here earlier, this morning, but I haven’t seen him again, no. He did mention that he was going to bring you in, on this one. It’s a humdinger, Dorough…a real doosey.” They came to a stop, next to the victim’s car.

“How can there not be any evidence? There has to be something. This is the fifth murder. It just doesn’t add up, that we haven’t found a single piece, of evidence.” Scrunching his eyebrows, he slipped on the pair, of rubber gloves that was offered, to him, by another detective.

He, slowly, creaked open the driver’s side door. Leaning down, he peered inside. It was obvious, to him, that the car had been looked over a hundred times, already, by who knows how many, officers and detectives. Evidence markers littered the interior, of the car, as well as the pavement, around the victim’s body.

“He attacked her inside the car, and then he dragged her out. He killed her on the pavement. This guy has no shame, Dorough. The bastard is sick…we can’t even establish a motive. There’s no pattern…no…no connection, between the victims. He just…targets pretty, young women.” Bradford kneeled down, beside the body, lifting one corner, of the sheet.

“Damn.” The whisper was barely audible, as Howard gasped, at the sight. He had seen his share of dead bodies, and many were in worse shape than this young lady, but something about the Defacer, made his stomach churn. The killer left his calling card, on his victims’ faces…he disfigured each woman’s face, before murdering them. The killer had been quickly named the Defacer, because of this habit.

Standing up, he drew in a deep breath, through his nostrils. The stench, of death, made a small shiver run, down his spine. Howard shook his head, and looked around, again. It sure did seem like a pretty clean scene. Any evidence would, obviously, be forensic…it was utterly disturbing. His eyes fell upon Knowles, walking toward him.

Howard knew this was going to be a long day, and, most likely, result in a long night, as well. He had a lot, of catching up, to do…files, to read…evidence and crime scene photos, to look over…autopsy reports, to review…yes, he was going to need a lot of coffee, tonight and, probably, a good headache medicine.