Date: Mon, 1 Oct 2007 12:04:24 -0700 (PDT) From: Matt Wess Subject: Double E: Part Thirteen I left the house anticipating the end. I loaded the Smith and Wesson, grabbed the handcuffs and wondered how I planned to take down the monster. The obvious answer came to me: With help. On the drive to the killer's home I got Carrie on her cell phone. Told her where I was heading. She assured me she would be over there as soon as possible. During the drive my insides were bursting with anxiety. I was almost one hundred percent positive that this bastard killed Georgina and her parents. Eliot was currently behind bars - a place where he should never be. It took around twenty minutes to reach my destination. I slowed the Cherokee to a stop on the opposite side of the street and sat and stared at the killer's home. Detective Booker's scaled down version of a mansion glowed with bright, orangish lights. It looked like a fiery castle, especially in that gloomy, fir wooded region of Jamestown. Shreds of misty fog touched my skin as I moved closer and closer. Breathing heavily, I leaned up against a tree and peered cautiously around the trunk. The same window I saw Ms. Fisher, Eliot, and Detective Booker having their threesome in had its drapes parted. A strong bare back was moving up and down - Booker. I dropped to a crouch and moved in closer. I could hear the frantic pants of both him and a young girl. If I had the killer instinct - I would place a bullet through the back of his head right there on the spot as he nibbled on the girl. But I bit my lip and moved around to the back. It was pitch-black and the grounds were soggy and muddy and thick with puddles. I'd anticipated as much. I paused for a brief second outside the backdoor wondering if I was doing the right thing. Picturing Eliot behind bars I convinced myself and noiselessly slipped into the house. I was standing in a spacious kitchen. As if the volume had been turned up, I could now hear Booker really moaning and the girl truly screaming. For a few seconds I just stood in the dark, listening, sweating bullets. If I was wrong about this - I would be joining Eliot shortly behind bars. Instinct propelled me forward, drawing the Smith and Wesson. I moved cautiously around the dark, making sure not to bump into anything. At long last I arrived at the lighted living room. Booker and the girl were sprawled out on the sofa, bodies sweating, the girls head tossed back, and Booker's muscular body on top of hers. Panting and out of breath, Booker turned his head to lay it on the girls chest, but at that precise moment caught sight of me framed in the archway. My heart froze, but I played it cool, stepping more into the light. Detective Booker gave me his maniac smile. The girl followed his gaze and spotted me. She let out a squeal and attempted to cover her chest. "No, its okay darling," Booker told her. "Elijah has come to join. Finally seeing things my way, have you?" I raised my gun and pointed it at the girl. "Get your clothes on and leave - Now!" The girl didn't need to be told twice. She scrambled into her clothes, ignoring Booker's protest, and ran out of the door still pulling on her shirt. Booker looked annoyed. "Well that wasn't a very nice thing to do." I trained the gun on him, not sure if I could really shoot him. He was still perfectly erected, and was sitting up against the sofa almost in an inviting way. He smiled at me, unperturbed at the sight of a gun. I figured since he was a homicide detective he was probably used to having a gun pointed at him. After a few seconds of just smiling at me he said, "Have you come to dominate me? Is that what the gun is for?" I shook my head slowly. "No," I said in a low, menacing tone. "I've come to let you know that your little game is over." "You just ended it," he said, indicating to the door the girl just left through. "That girl - she looked a lot like Georgina Cloves. Tell me, Detective Booker did you play a game with Georgina before you killed her?" The slimy smile stretched across his face. "Murder was the game, Elijah. So what else did you figure out?" He looked amused and was no longer erected. "That you framed Eliot because you knew about the date he had with Georgina. Manipulated him through sex. And since you're one of the lead detectives, it was easy to spin this whole thing so you would get away with it." "Oh very good, Elijah. Then you could excuse me while I pull on a pair of briefs. If you are going to kill me I don't want my colleagues to see me nude. They're a bunch of sex perverts." He provided a wink. I trained the gun on Booker as he moved to a chair and pulled up a pair of briefs. Once they were on he held up his hands. "You can feel free to frisk me, make sure I'm not hiding any weapons of sort. Or at least weapons that you haven't just seen." He winked again. "But I should warn you that killing an officer is a pretty serious offense." "I don't plan to kill you," I said calmly. "Oh I see," Detective kept his hands in the air and sat down on the sofa. "Then I am curious as to how you plan to take me in. A teenager's word against an officer. Accusing an officer of murder is just as serious as killing an officer, you know that. You have no evidence, and in this battle it's two against one." "Two?" I said. To answer my question a cold barrel of a gun was unexpectedly pressed to the back of my head. Detective Booker was smirking. "Yes, Elijah, two," a cool female voice said from the shadows behind me. I knew that voice. It belonged to Ms. Fisher.