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Daniella sat in the large, glassed-in conference room of the FBI headquarters in Kansas City, Missouri. She’d been on the job for almost two weeks. Graduating second in her class, her competitive ego took a hit when Rodriquez passed her up in target practice.

Ramon Rodriquez, the cocky, egotistical, pompous ass, smug, self-absorbed, self-centered, narcissistic clown she’d grown to despise at the Academy, was now her partner. The gods were not looking out for her. She couldn’t refuse her commander; being a rookie didn’t afford you the luxury of choosing your partner.

The Bureau placed them together for one reason, they both scored higher than any agent in history who’d graduated the Academy in tactical and problem-solving skills. Daniella would have to play nice. Solving these disappearances had to trump her hatred for him.

The first day on the job, Daniella was shocked to see him standing on the other side of the glass door, gyrating his hips like he used to do to her in class whenever he scored higher than her on a test. Lucky for her that day, Special Agent Adams, their superior, was standing behind him. Adams tapped him on the shoulder, making Rodriquez jump to attention. 

“Are we going to have a problem here?” Adams asked Rodriquez as he pointed his finger between Daniella and Ramon.

“No, sir. Agent Kezzar and I went to the Academy together. It’s a running joke between us.”

“I don’t see her laughing, do you?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” Rodriquez apologized as he stood at attention.

“It better not. I have more important issues to deal with than two rookies and a sexual harassment charge. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

This morning, they sat across the table from each other, pouring over case files. Daniella peered at him inconspicuously. As he read the case file, Rodriquez pinched his left eyebrow and simultaneously twirled his pen between his fingers in the other hand. 

He’s quite handsome in a Latin sort of way, she thought to herself. His face bore chiseled features, high cheekbones, tan skin, black, slick hair. Having seen him in the gym, she knew that his muscles were ripped under the white dress shirt. Daniella surprised herself. She was getting turned on just by watching him. She adjusted herself in her chair. 

I suppose if he never opened his mouth to speak, I could do him. Daniella knew he was from Brooklyn. His parents were Puerto Rican; he was the only boy out of seven children and the youngest. Spoiled. 

“What?” Rodriquez, looking up from his work, broke the room’s silence.

“What? What?” she answered.

“You were staring at me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Which case are you on?” Rodriquez changed the subject.

“I’m reading about Holly Spike. She disappeared over Spring break two years ago after visiting her family in Kentucky. Attended Benedictine College in Missouri, Upperclassman, lived on campus. Described as a ‘good girl,’ would not disappear independently. Honors student, religious, obviously, well-liked by her friends and community, comes from a good family, no known boyfriends. It’s a nine-hour drive from her parent’s place in Frankfort, Kentucky, to the college. She’d done the drive many times, so knew the route. Holly was driving a 2006 blue Volvo. Disappeared about seven hours into her trip, according to cell phone records. Disappeared into thin air.”

“Not likely,” piped in Rodriquez.

“What about you? What’s got you pinching that left eyebrow of yours?” Daniella smiled at him.

“You were staring at me.” He laughed. Daniella couldn’t help notice how white his teeth were.

“Frances Wilkens. Disappeared the same year Holly went missing. Just a few months after, actually. Hot summer night, rushing to get to her boyfriend’s place in South Carolina. She was laid off from her job in Colorado, so her boyfriend told her to pack up and move East. They’d been in contact the entire day on her cell phone. Here’s something unusual, the boyfriend said she had her dog with her, a white Goldendoodle, Maddy. The last time they spoke, he said Fran told him she would drive a few more miles and stop at the next rest stop to let the dog out. She planned to sleep an hour or two and get back on the road. She was driving a newer Ford F-150 extended cab. Never heard from her again.”

“Fuck! Not even the dog?” Daniella questioned.

“Nope, not even the dog. PD report says they looked for the dog or a body of the dog along the highway and at the rest stop.”

“Aren’t there surveillance cameras at the rest stops?”

“Yes, but this one wasn’t up and running that night, according to the maintenance manager.”

“Unbelievable.” Daniella shook her head. “It’s like this guy knows these things ahead of time. Sits and waits for the perfect victim. And for some reason, they don’t put up a fight. Think he may drug them? Bumps into them and sticks them with something?”

“That’s what we’re here to figure out. But without bodies, we can come up with a hundred different scenarios. No wonder they all went cold.”

“Lucky us.” Daniella sighed heavily. “My brain is fried. I gotta get out of here and take care of my own dog.”

“I didn’t know you had a dog. Where was he when you were at the Academy?”

“Staying with friends in Coos Bay. After graduation, I drove cross country to get him. I kinda know how these people felt while they were driving. It’s boring, and all you’re thinking about is getting to where you’re going as quickly as possible.”

Daniella put on her shoulder holster and slipped into her suit jacket. Rodriquez followed her lead. 

“I was hoping we could have dinner together. You know, bury the hatchet?”

Daniella looked him up and down. “Yeah, no.”

“No? Why not?”

“‘Cause, you’ve been a pompous ass since we first met. I’m not sure we’re capable of being friends.” Daniella had her back to him and had a smile on her face. She knew she was getting his goat. Rodriquez saw her reflection in the window.

“I saw that smile. You’re full of shit. Tell you what, I’m going to stop by the Chinese place down the road and pick up some take out. Text me your address. You still gotta eat, right?”

Daniella thought about it. “Hmm, okay. Dexter will let me know if you’re cool or not.”

“Dexter?”

“My dog, a Pitbull who is very intuitive.”

Rolling his eyes as he held the door open for Daniella, he said, “Wonderful. After you agent.”

* * * * * 

When Rodriquez rang the doorbell to Daniella’s house, Dexter’s loud, deep bark could be heard echoing inside. Daniella came to the door holding onto the dog’s collar. Dexter whined and barked at Rodriquez, but as soon as he got a whiff of the food bags in his hands, Dexter’s nose went straight for Rodriquez’s crouch. 

“Whoa, there little doggie.” 

“He’s harmless now; he smells the food. Come on in.”

A low whistle came out of Rodriquez’s mouth. “Man, how did you get these digs? My place is a small, one-bedroom apartment. This is a palace compared to mine.”

“It helps when you know who to blow,” Daniella joked. “Seriously, though, I was just as surprised when I opened the door. Suzy, the office manager, set it all up for me. Take a look. I still have a few things to get for the place.”

While Rodriquez toured the house, with Dexter following close behind, Daniella set out plates and opened up the take-out containers.

“Wanna beer?” she called out to him. “All I have is porters, so if you don’t like dark beer, your shit out of luck.”

Walking back into the kitchen, Rodriquez sat down at the large island. “Porters are great. Thanks.”

“Fork or chopsticks?”

“I’m a chopstick kinda guy.”

“Box or plate?”

“Why dirty a dish?” He grabbed one of the boxes and opened it up.

“So, tell me about yourself, Keezer. I don’t know much about you; your past.”

“You interested or just trying to make conversation?”

“Genuinely interested. I mean, you’re my partner now. We should get to know each other better. How’d you end up at the Academy?”

“I worked homicide in Coos Bay, Oregon. My eye has always been on working for the FBI as a profiler. My last case sealed the deal for me.”

“How so?”

“Coos Bay is a small, sleepy little fishing town. Not much action except some petty theft, domestic violence, the usual small-town stuff. One Labor Day weekend, a newlywed couple went missing while camping in a nearby state park. The only thing found was their new Jeep in the parking lot. Their campsite had been cleaned out. A year later, the young woman’s decomposed body was found, decapitated near a pond about a mile from where we think they were camping.”

“Wow.”

“It gets better. The husband was found in a small cave about two miles from where she was found. His body was in better shape as far as decomposition goes. His throat had been slit almost to his spine. I couldn’t believe the hound dogs didn’t find them on the initial search. I was pissed but determined to find their killer.”

“Did you find the killer?”

“Long story short, yes.” Daniella left out the part she was sleeping with the enemy without knowing it.

“How?”

“We decided to think outside the box when a true-crime author came to us and asked if she could write the victim’s story in hopes of luring the killer out. Mind you, we weren’t able to share a lot of stuff with her, but the things we did share, well, let’s just say, she did an awesome job with what she had to work with.”

“So, he’s in prison now?”

“Coos Bay is a small town and all, the killer hid among the elite in town. A well-known, upstanding community member made it almost impossible to investigate without raising a few eyebrows. Everything I had on this guy was circumstantial. No direct evidence led us to him. It was frustrating. I knew the judge pretty well, and I asked for a favor. Told him I had a hunch but needed his backing to pursue it. He was hesitant at first but then relented. I have that judge to thank ’cause I never would have gotten the information to put his trail of murder together. It was quite extensive.”

“No wonder you’re so competitive.”

“I don’t think I’m competitive. I think I’m good at what I do. You’re the competitive one.”

“Yeah, maybe so. You have this sixth sense about you. I can’t put my finger on it, but you seemed to know exactly what the killer was thinking and what his next moves may be in class. I was a little envious, I have to admit.” Rodriquez smiled sheepishly.

“Which is how I landed these damn cases.” Daniella took a swig of her beer. He’s flirting with me.

“Your turn,” she said to him.

* * * * *

Old Hank sat on his porch, rocking and smoking a cigar. He went over his conversation with the pretty Special Agent Keezer. I’ll bet she’s a tiger in the sack. Her voluptuous breasts seemed to be screaming to be released from that white shirt she was wearing. Hank rubbed his crotch, thinking about them. He knew she was a smart cookie. The questions she asked him were straight forward, almost accusatory. But he felt he answered them in a way that seemed to satisfy her. 

When she asked him to open the storage containers so she could look around, he waited outside. He stood by the door in hopes the wind would close it shut while she was inside. Give her a scare. It was too soon, though. He’d have to plan it out.

Featured Image by Cindy Parks from Pixabay