Page 92 of The Sound of Silence

Derek

Forty-five minutes later, I watched as the police taped off the exterior of my building and a forensic team bustled about warning everyone not to touch anything. I anxiously paced, holding Maisie in my arms. Considering everything, I didn’t want to leave her alone. She whined and nervously licked my face, sensing my unease.

“I know, girl. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

I took in her big round eyes and black button nose. If anything had happened to her, I don’t know what I would have done. If this lunatic was able to bypass my security system to get into The Mill, accessing my apartment would be a walk in the park. And if this was, in fact, Ethan who did this, I was terrified for Gianna’s safety as well.

I’d tried to call her several times, but it went straight to voicemail. It was infuriating. While it wasn’t unusual for her to have her phone off, I needed to know if she was okay. I’d already been questioned by Detective Warhol, but he wasn’t forthcoming with any details about Ethan Walker. He told me I needed to stay put until the FBI arrived. I still didn’t know why the FBI was involved, but from the looks of what was going on outside, I assumed I’d find out soon.

Two unmarked SUV’s had just pulled up with blue lights flashing through the windshield, signaling they were the FBI. Hopefully, I’d finally get some answers to whatever the hell was going on.

Four people emerged from the vehicles. After talking to the responding officers for a moment, they split off in various directions, with the lone female agent heading straight for me. She was dressed in a sharp, navy pantsuit and carrying a briefcase.

“Derek Mills?” she asked as she approached, flashing her badge.

“That’s me,” I replied cautiously.

“I’m Agent Gregory, FBI. I work out of the New York field office, Division of Violent Crimes. Is there a place we can talk privately?”

“Yeah, sure, my office. Follow me.”

I hadn’t been inside my office yet and silently wondered if that had been destroyed as well. Unfortunately, whoever did this didn’t show prejudice. Even though the office door had been locked, breaking through the hollow wooden door hadn’t been difficult.

Once inside, I found the desk had been cleared of its contents. Everything was scattered all over the floor, including my six-thousand-dollar Apple desktop, lying face up with a coffee mug smashed into the middle of the screen. Fitness posters had been torn from the walls, and all the files from my filing cabinet had been torn up.

Fuck.

I had insurance that should cover the monetary costs of things, but there was no way to replace the hundreds of hours’ worth of paperwork. Frustrated and pissed off, I kicked aside the debris to make a path to the small table and two chairs in the corner. I sat down, positioned Maisie on my lap, and motioned for the agent to have a seat across from me.

Not wasting time, Agent Gregory removed a laptop from her briefcase, fired it up, and turned the screen to face me. A picture of Ethan Walker stared back at me.

“Do you know this man?” she asked.

“Not really. I only met him once briefly three years ago, although we were never formally introduced.” Before I could elaborate further, she clicked a button on the keyboard, and another image appeared. This one was of Gianna. The picture must have been an older one because her hair was still blond when it was taken.

“What about her?”

“That’s the woman I’m seeing.” The agent nodded her head knowingly as if pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. “What is this all about? What does she have to do with the break-in.”

“So, Gianna is still alive. Good. That gives me some relief, at least.”

“Still alive?” I stared incredulously at Agent Gregory, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Yes. I think your girlfriend was the motive,” she explained before turning the computer back toward her and clicking away on the keyboard again. “I’ve been profiling Ethan Walker for some time now, although I never had a name for him until now. He is the suspect in four homicides in Cincinnati, Cleveland, New York City, and Niagara Falls.”

“Homicides?”

“Mr. Mills, I believe your girlfriend is in very real danger,” she told me as she continued to type. “I need you to tell me everything you know and anything she might have told you about Ethan Walker. I’m also going to need to question her but I’ve been unable to locate her. I’m hoping you can help me with that.”

“Look, Agent Gregory, I already told you I don’t personally know Ethan. The only time Gianna ever really spoke of him was a couple of days ago when she told me her history with him. He abused her terribly. She’s terrified of him.”

“She should be. He’s a dangerous man.”

“She also told me because of his influence, she’s terrified of the police,” I said pointedly. “She doesn’t trust them to protect her. I understand why you want to talk to her, but when I consider her feelings about law enforcement, I’m hesitant to betray her trust. If what you suspect is true, and Ethan really did kill those other women, I need more assurances from you before I lead you to Gianna. What makes you so sure you can protect her?”

“I don’t think you understand how dangerous Ethan Walker is. In all four homicide cases, the women went missing for long periods of time. Eventually, their bodies were found.” Reaching down into her briefcase, she procured four pictures, each of a badly beaten woman. Purplish-black marks ringed their necks, showing clear evidence of strangulation. Unconsciously, I brought my hand to my throat and recalled Gianna’s fear of having her neck touched on the first day she took my self-defense class.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.

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