• INTRO - THE FBI
    There is something out there that is always watching... and waiting.
    Someone famous once said that, but for the life of me I don’t know who. Anyway, a pair of FBI agents I once knew always had something to add to that old philosophy. Just follow the truth and you’ll find your way eventually, they said. Expect the unexpected, they added.
    Well, they didn’t follow their own advice in that summer of 1999, and ten years later, it still brings chills to my consciousness. Never again will they solve a case like this one.
    When they first told me this story a year or two after it happened, I couldn’t believe something to horrible, so corrupt, could happen in such a small town.
    Then when I finally accepted it, I was haunted for nights after with the idea that my hometown was next. It was like a Stephen King novel: it couldn’t possible happen to you; but it did.
    So this is their story, the one that gives the three of us nightmares for years after, the one that we’ll never forget but always want to.
    Enjoy.

    CHAPTER 1 - THE VICTIMS

    The rain poured down in the Arizona desert, the first rain in months. The residents rejoiced, but it was a bittersweet celebration, for two of their own had been murdered.
    Special Agents Alisa Fernandez and Daniel Soren arrived in Arizona only two days after being assigned the double homicide. They arrived by an FBI jet. The director wanted this case over and done with as soon as possible. Fernandez, the senior agent of the pair, was a thirty-year-old woman with nothing to lose. Her long black hair hung loosely in a ponytail on the back, as long as the legs that brought her height to 5'8", a mere two inches less than her twenty-eight year old partner Danny. His slightly longer legs balanced out the rest of his body, from his toned arm muscles to his small but dignified six-pack abs. His secret weight lifting had paid off, his old geek look no longer existent. He wore sunglasses to block the glare from the sun, with a gray suit and tie. In comparison, Fernandez wore a black jacket and slacks, with sunglasses to match Danny's.
    The pair had been assigned this case by their supervisor, an Assistant Director by the name of Edward Jacobson. The agents’ last case had been a cold case, a missing girl presumed dead in an ignorant town. Their only lead had turned into a dead end, and with nothing else to go on, they gave up and returned to the present day crimes. The murders seemed like a clear-cut case. All they had to do was find the murder weapon and hope the killer was too dim-witted to wipe his prints off it.
    The crime scene was a barn off of one of the only highways going through the Arizona desert. It was empty, except for an old horse saddle and a miniature stable that contained the two bodies. The barn was a small part of an even smaller town that wasn't even on the map. The local police had the area tied off in a perimeter of a quarter of a mile, with a smaller circle of police tape surrounding the stable in the barn. Officers were spread out throughout the crime scene, placing yellow cones where evidence lay. The town sheriff stood next to the bodies with a deputy, looking around anxiously and searching for something. When they spotted Fernandez and Soren they briskly joined them and introduced themselves. The sheriff, name of Dave Connor, looked happier than most would have given the situation, but it was a grim happiness that made even the FBI agents feel a sense of defeat. The deputy, the sheriff's brother Mike Connor, was a nervous fellow that was less confident than his older brother, and acted accordingly. He averted his eyes from those of the agents and spoke quickly.
    "So what's the FBI's interest in this case? We've been pondering this case and I don't see anything that would possibly catch you guys' eyes."
    "'Cept that you don't have a single thing after a week," Soren muttered under his breath, but loud enough for his three companions to hear.
    "Well,” Fernandez said, giving her partner a glare that shut his mouth. "It does seem that the Knoxville PD have had some trouble solving this case." The sheriff nodded, and sighed.
    "We have nothing to go on. NO murder weapon, NO suspect, and NO witnesses. And the coroner is out of town (in Mexico, of all places) so we have no one to examine the bodies and tell us anything on them. They're at the morgue on light freeze. Of course, in this heat, light freeze is really mucho freeze to you people. If they was on your level of light freeze they'd be mush."
    "Thanks for the image," Soren said. "Can we see the crime scene now?" Impatient, he moved past his partner and the brothers and headed towards the barn. Fernandez shrugged amiably at the detectives.
    "He's PMSing," she said by way of explanation. The trio followed Soren to the crime scene, where the air seemed stale, as if used too much. Other members of the local authorities loitered around the old building like flies. Some looked malevolently at Fernandez and turned their heads, but she held up her head, frowning only when they entered the unoccupied building.
    "What is their trip?" She asked the sheriff. He shrugged.
    "Out here in the west, some of these buffoons still think that women should be housemaids and let the men do everything else. Personally, I think it's nice, but some of my colleagues don' think so. He stared pointedly at his brother, and the younger O'Connor smirked.
    "Well it's true. Women aren't good for anything, and especially shouldn't be in positions of power." He turned to Fernandez and grinned evilly, all nervousness forgotten. "So how did you get into this little FBI position of yours, little lady? You screw all of the directors on the board or what?" Fernandez stared at him blankly, devoid of all emotion. Then, without warning, she brought her elbow parallel to the ground and mimicked bashing it into his grinning face. He fell backwards with a howl and snarled as he regained his balance.
    "Don't call me little lady, first of all. Second, I don't screw anybody for anything. And since I'm probably the one thing letting you keep your job after the higher ups figure what morons most of you are, I wouldn't mess with me if I were you. So keep that in mind and we won' any further problems." She turned away from him and walked to where the bodies were surrounded by ME's from all over the state. Apparently they didn't get many homicides, or there was something special about this one.
    The partners could tell that not many of the medical examiners were really good, so before they even reached the body, Fernandez volunteered to do the autopsy.
    "I'm certified, and I could probably do more and find actual answers than all of these clowns put together. Do you guys have a morgue that we can send the bodies to?"
    "Well, the morgue is only ten minutes down the road on the more populated part of town. You guys can follow us," the older O'Connor said as they left the area and returned to their cars. Soren tossed Fernandez the keys.
    "You drive. I gotta sit down.” He opened the door on the passenger side.
    "You okay?" She asked, looking concerned. He nodded and got in the car, blaming a headache. She got in the driver's side and started up the car. The partners followed the sheriff's police issue pickup down the highway and ten minutes later arrived at the town morgue.
    "I'm warning you now," Mike O'Connor said, more friendly now than before. "These bodies are more mutilated and messed up than any I've every seen, even on TV. You sure you want to see this, Special Agent Fernandez? It's not right for a lady to see. Maybe you better let your partner handle this." The lady in question scowled at the younger man, and turned to her partner.
    "Danny, please tell Deputy O'Connor that if he ever, ever, says anything like that to me again I'll take out my gun and shoot him, then take full responsibility and spend my prison sentence reveling in it."
    "My partner says..." he started, smirking. Mike stopped him and humbly opened the door to the morgue and walked in. Fernandez and Soren smiled at each other and went to work. The morgue, as promised, was cold. The two murder victims were in freezers in the autopsy room, where they had been waiting for a week. Sheriff O'Connor winced as they put the covered bodies on separate slabs and got the appropriate tools out. As soon as everything was ready, Fernandez uncovered the victims.
    "Oh, my God."