This is one chapter of a longer crime/romance story that is connected to the other parts. To fully appreciate the story, please start at Part 1 and read through. Thanks.
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Part 2 Agent Connor Meets Some Resentment
Jordan began with the photos. She was visually oriented and wanted to get a grasp of the scene before reading the files. The images spoke to her, presenting to her a moment of death and violence captured forever on the glossy paper. They were similar to so many others she had seen before, but unique in their own way.
Once she finished with the photos, she moved on to the autopsy reports. She finished with the deputies' reports, which she found impressive for a small force. They were thorough, detailed, and organized chronologically.
Nothing had been stolen from the victims' houses, nor had they been sexually assaulted.
Other items included bags of labeled evidence containing the victims' bloody clothing, underwear, shoes, hair samples, and carpet fibers.
Unfortunately, Shawnee lacked the funds (and the precedent) to allocate money toward sophisticated crime scene tests, such as DNA, chemistry, and toxicology. Nor did they have the specialized software to organize and analyze their data. Jordan would have to make do with the paperwork that she had before her and use the databases on her laptop when feasible.
She was beginning to develop an initial impression of Shawnee's slaughterer, however, something wasn't right and for the moment and Agent Jordan Conner couldn't put her finger on it.
She had been brought into the case earlier that day when Sheriff Hagan had come to Albuquerque where she was lecturing and asked her to help him with a bad case. Her job in the FBI was profiling and this crime was perfect for her. She did a lot of public speaking, but this was a chance to get back into fieldwork, which she found fascinating in an intellectual sort of way.
Meanwhile, across town at the El Rancho Taberna, New Mexico State Police detectives Gary Matthews and Casey Samson were each sipping a cold Budweiser and checking out the women who came into the bar. Casey trusted her partner and felt comfortable around him. He was a womanizer and had a new girlfriend every week. Casey didn't like the way he perceived women as objects, but she was comfortable enough to confess to him that she liked women as more than just friends. Gary had sort of suspected it for a long time since she never talked about men or seemed to go on dates with them.
He had tried on more than one occasion to fix her up with some of his buddies, but she always came up with some excuse why she couldn't keep the date. So he hadn't been surprised when she admitted her preferences one evening two years ago during a boring stake out. He had teased her about it for a while, hinting around about having a threesome, but he stopped when that got him nowhere. Casey was a good cop and he respected her skills.
A bond existed between them that had grown from their experience on the streets together and Casey seemed like a male buddy to him now. Her height and size made her almost as strong as a man and Gary knew he could depend on her, so her personal choices were not a problem for him.
Now, as Garth Brooks sang about low places and whiskey on the jukebox, they ordered a second draft.
Casey turned to Gary with a mischievous grin on her face, "Hey partner, what did you think of that gorgeous Fed?"
He gulped his brew and sputtered, "Hell, that bitch wouldn't give you the time of day!" He recalled the rebuff that had occurred that afternoon when the agent wasn't enthralled with him.
Casey laughed in his face, "What's the matter, did poor Gary get his ego crushed?"
Gary retorted, "Listen, that woman doesn't know a good thing when she sees it."
Casey was still laughing when she answered, "Yeah, but you got to admit, she looked VERY nice. I'll bet she looks even better under that suit."
Gary scoffed, "You'll never know. She only bats one way."
"And how would you know?" Casey was indignant.
"Just look at her." Gary argued, "Besides, if she didn't even look at me, what makes you think she'll like you?"
"Gary, you are a conceited bastard. Maybe she didn't look at you because she likes women."
Gary dismissed Casey's statement, "She don't like nobody."
Casey leaned in closer to him, "Are you up for a little wager, partner?"
"The winner is...whoever sleeps with her first."
Gary slammed down his beer, "Bring it on, partner. This will be a heroic conquest! I'll fill you in on all the intimate details." He seemed almost jubilant.
"Don't be so arrogant." Casey corrected him. "With the way you two started, you don't have a chance."
"That's all going to change when I turn on my charm. She won't be able to resist me." He suddenly feigned concern, "It doesn't seem fair for you, though."
"You just make sure you have the cash ready to pay me." Casey replied confidently. "I am the one who will be bragging to you about all the luscious details!"
They downed the rest of their beers and finished with a shot of Captain Morgan, toasting to the challenge of the bet before calling it a night. The sheriff had told them earlier that tomorrow they would be starting a job for Jordan. She wanted the 2000 census for Shawnee to establish a database to obtain as many statistics as possible for every male over 16 years of age. They were less than thrilled about a deluge of paperwork or working for a smart-ass pretty FBI agent.
It was nearly 11:00 p.m. when Jordan finished her initial profile of Shawnee's killer. Reclining in her chair, she rubbed the back of her neck. Her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since the banana on her drive from Albuquerque. Jordan had a one-track mind and when she was involved with a case, she devoted all of her energy to it, often skipping meals and losing track of time. She packed up her laptop and straightened up the files, wondering if she would have to resort to fast food at the late hour.
A deputy was sitting in Sarah's chair with his feet propped up on the desk. "Good evening Ma'am." He nodded to Jordan as she was locking the office behind her.
