The Free Man

I have worked for the FBI for most of my adult life. I spend my days and nights searching for the criminally insane. The individuals who commit horrendous murders.

My name is Indigo Violet, and I really enjoy my job. What I don't enjoy is when the "crazy ass" people I risk my life to catch get out of their lifelong sentence. Only once has one broken out of prison, only to be captured and resentenced for multiple life sentences.

The ones that get out of their prison sentence on "good behavior" or some screwed-up court hearing where they never serve any time are my least favorite people.

Why people think that these criminals should be put back into society, I will never understand. They are so deranged in their minds that they will never "change." Once an animal, always an animal. And to be so naïve to believe they have changed is nuts.

It doesn't happen often, but sometimes the system lets them out, and it never fails... they commit more murders and more innocent people die.

A fine example is my current case. I am suppose to catch, yet again, an evil human being. Seems to me I should get paid double the second time around.

The house of the most recent victims is your normal white picket fence dwelling. The house is a soft blue brick with a perfectly mowed yard. Flowers and shrubs placed under all the windows and along the walkway lead to the front door. Even the birdbath in the middle of the front yard is painted the same blue.

As soon as we, the chief of police, John, my boss, and I enter the front door, we are hit with the smell of death. Not just one life was taken, but the entire family was killed. The five bodies have already been taken to the morgue, and the crime evidence crew has already gone through and gathered all they thought to be relevant. Photographs have already been embedded into my brain, so this walkthrough is just to get a feel for the crime.

Walking through the entryway, we take a right into the kitchen. The table, three chairs and the two highchairs are in the middle. At the one end of the table is where the killer sat and ate after he killed the family. This is the routine of his past crimes, and it appears he hasn't changed his spots after all. In the past, after he killed the occupants, he would fix himself a big meal. To me, this shows how sadistic this man is.

Through the kitchen is the laundry room. The door in here leads to the side of the house. This is where he entered as they slept and probably where he left as well. Retreating back into the kitchen, we go through the living room to the hallway. The first door on the right is a bathroom, the second door on the right is the boy's room.

The boy had a definite love of cars. His bedding was all cars, as were the posters on his wall. Every shelf and dresser top was covered with bought or handmade automobiles. The boy had been ten. His throat had been slit to the bone, so he died quickly. Hopefully he was so deep in his slumber he did not even know what had happened.

Across from his room was where his baby sisters slept. They each had cribs with matching pink bedding. One crib was white and the other was oak. A rocking chair was sitting in between the two cribs with a pink pillow for mom to sit on in comfort as she fed her babies. The baby in the oak crib had been totally decapitated. Her sister was found in one piece, asleep on her tummy, when the mad man bashed her head in with a hammer.

The parents room was at the end of the hallway. We walk into the room and I recalled from the photos the horrible things that occurred during the end of their lives. Both had been tied to the bedposts. He had done this to have more control over them and prevent being hurt himself.

The couple had had both their feet sawed off. Probably the same saw that had been used on the boy. The woman had been sliced from her neck all the way down. The man's head had been beaten in, sadly, just like his baby girl's.

Having seen the crime scenes and the photos of the family, I am totally ticked off and ready to catch this sorry excuse for human life. John and I thank the Chief for taking us to the home and return to the office. The ride was not pleasant for John. I ranted my anger the whole way back about how stupid people are for letting this monster back into society.

We go our separate ways and I storm the whole way to my office. I already have the data from the crimes that put him behind bars in the first place. I power up my trusty laptop and start reading the files on any and all family and friends he had in the past. Seems all but his younger brother have moved, died or lost contact with him since his sentence started.

Next, I look at the records from the prison on all his fan mail. It really amazes me how many send letters and proclaim their love to these prisoners. When you know the horrible things they have done, how can you find it in your heart to want to correspond with them?

There are only two that have been contacting him that pique my interest. One is a woman who has been writing him every week for the past fifteen years. She is very much in love with him and has been since before he was captured. The second is a young guy that has been writing short notes the past two months.

I ask the computer to run statistics on the brother, lady in love, and the young guy to see who is most likely to be helping him. Somebody is helping him on the outside, and they are most likely his next victim, or at the very least, where he is hiding out. I stand up and go in search of some caffeine while the computer does its job.

The computer believes it is probably the women in love. Interesting, I would have guessed the brother: blood is thicker than water. I print out photos of all three, addresses too, and shut down the computer. The brother lives in a town on the way to the lady love, so I decide to pay him a visit first.

The brother's home is not what I expected at all. With a worthless brother that was rotting in prison, his home is beautiful and reeks of wealth. I park in the driveway and head to the front door. Making sure my trusty pistol is tucked within reach, I ring the doorbell.

I recognize Danny as soon as he opens the door. He is tall, gray hair all around, looking very handsome in a suit and tie. I introduce myself and he invites me in. I start by asking if he knows his brother has been released from prison. He looks at me directly.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says, "he should be rotting away in there forever."

I am taken aback by this. "Danny, you write him at least once a month, yet you feel he needs to stay in prison?"

Danny laughs, "I am his last living relative, I feel it's my duty to keep in touch."

I thank him for his time and return to my car for my next stop. Lady love, or Sissy, lives a good four hours away. I decide to do a drive-by due to the late hour.

It is two in the morning when I get to Sissy's street. The homes are not as nice as Danny's. The street does have street lights, so I can get a feel for her home as I drive by. There is no activity on her street. The lawns are all overgrown and in much need of care and water.

I decide to park across from her place. I drive with no headlights and roll down my window. I turn off my car and observe. There are two cars in her driveway, and her house is dark, not even a flickering shadow of a TV being watched. She has a one-story with no fence, which pretty much means no dog. Like her neighbors, her grass has died, and is in need of a lawnmower to mow down the tall, brown grass.

I start the car and head for the nearest hotel. I find a Motel 6 five minutes later. I park, grab my overnight bag, and head to the lobby. I pay for the night, collect my key, and head for my room.

Once I've changed, I grab my trusty laptop and hop onto the bed. I tag John by messenger and search the DPS with the plates parked in Sissy's driveway. The one is her car, but the other belongs to a Taylor Ray. I pull up the license of Mr. Ray, and there staring back at me is the man who has been in contact with our dear ex-prisoner.

The following morning I am awakened by a call from John, and I tell him about the cars. Normally I would go to Sissy's alone, but with the severity of the murders, he doesn't want me to go without backup. Too much of a likelihood that this is where he's hiding, and we can't lose him, so I agree to meet him at the airport in an hour. He'll be taking our helicopter to save time.

I check out of the hotel and head to the station. I brief the local police and get some backup ready. I take a quick drive by Sissy's on the way to meet John and notice both cars are still in her driveway.

With John at my side, we head over to Sissy's. The police are already in their places, and there is no room for escape if he is indeed hiding here. We park in the road and head to the front door. I knock and we wait. When the door opens, it's Mr. Ray and not Sissy: not a good sign. I explain who we are and ask to speak to Sissy. He invites us in.

Once we walk inside, all hell breaks loose. We first see Sissy's bloody body slouched in a chair. Mr. Ray pulls out his gun, but John shoots first and he falls to the floor. I am radioing the backup as I am bulldozed to the floor from behind. A cold pistol is at my temple as a shot is fired. John has shot the monster dead before he could shoot me.