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Lost Lovers

Never will I look at a bear the same again.

By Jodi RobertsPublished 5 years ago 9 min read
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Photo by Rawpixel on Unsplash

"Hello, is this Samantha?" I asked.

I actually knew that it was her already, I would know her voice in a crowded coffee shop. I have been watching her for a while now. I found her as I was searching for my next lover. She was shopping at the local grocery store, careful in picking items before she put them in her cart. She has short brown hair, the greenest eyes you have ever seen, and such an innocent look about her. She never wears any makeup, at least never when I have studied her. I guess that is where I get the innocent look from when describing her. I know she is anything but innocent and that is why she will be my next lover.

"Are we still on for dinner tonight?" I asked her.

"Of course, silly, I am looking forward to tonight. It will be our third date this week and you know what that means." She stated excitedly.

"Just making sure you haven't changed your mind," I said to her.

"No way, I have been looking forward to tonight all day."

"Great, see you then. "

I am soaking up some much-needed sun with my sister's boys in their backyard pool. I am not sure how much sun I am actually getting though. They seem to love catching me and dunking me in the water. It's fun, and having no kids of my own, playing with them is a total destress for me. That is what I am doing when sis peeks her head out the sliding glass door to tell me I've got a phone call and it's John.

I reluctantly hop out of the pool. Grabbing my blue towel off the chair and wrapping it around me as I go through the sliding door. I grab the phone off the counter where sis left it.

"Hey, John what's up?"

"Sorry to put an end to your pool time, but I need you to meet me at The Candy Hotel ASAP."

I tell him to give me ten and rush to the bathroom to change out of my wet swimsuit. Dressed in the shorts and tank I'd worn over my swimsuit, I pull my long brown hair into a ponytail, grab my sunglasses and head for the door. Jumping in my car, I head over to meet John.

My name is Indigo Barbie and my career choice is to catch the scumbag serial killers that live among us. I pull up to the hotel in ten minutes. Placing my badge on as I walk past the police cars and into The Candy Hotel.

The Candy Hotel is a one of a kind. The owners had it built about seven years ago. They are a retired couple that wanted a special place that would cater mostly to honeymooners. Each room has its own name instead of a room number. A unique candy design supports each rooms name. It is a little 'too cute' for my taste. Word has spread about the uniqueness and charm of the hotel. They still have plenty of honeymooners, but tourists love it just the same.

A couple of officers were standing near the front desk with John and the hotel owners. I walked up to them and could tell the misses had been crying.

"It's just so horrible," she sniffled into a tissue. "They seemed so happy and in love."

Introductions were made and then John led me to the elevators to take me to the crime scene. It seems the young couple, both females, seemed very much in love as they booked The Gummi Bear room for the weekend.

"Why aren't the police handling this John?" I asked, " I haven't heard anything on the news that would make this murder that of a serial killer."

He reminds me the media stays pretty clear of reporting anything negative when it comes to the LGBT lifestyle. There have been too many victims. The police have asked for our help to end this before it becomes a worldwide media circus. Oh, what fun, I think to myself.

The crime scene is pretty bittersweet. With little gummi bears at every corner it is not fitting to see blood and the obvious torture the victim endured mixed in. The young woman has short brown hair and looks to be a young teenager, but has already been identified as twenty-three-year-old Samantha Simpson. Overlooking all the bears, the room looks to be set up for romance. There is an almost empty bottle of wine on the table near the bed. The floor and bed are covered with rose petals among all the blood splatters. Samantha is naked and on the bed. Her hands have been secured to the bedposts with those furry handcuffs, and her face, although looking youthful, looks like she was in shock and pure pain as the hammer was repeatedly jammed into her.

Seeing all there is to see, we leave the hotel. They can now remove Samantha and clean up the room. Although I don't believe I will ever have an interest in any form of bears again. We drive to the office so I can be filled in on the previous murders.

There have been several murders of the LGBT through the years. The most recent are numerous and killed in the same way, with the genitals destroyed by a hammer. The murderer has a definite hate ignited in themselves. John hands me the stacks the police have faxed over, they include the names, ages, and photos of the victims. The stack has locations, dates, and almost everything I need to get started. Still puzzled on why these haven't been reported to the media, it could have possibly saved some lives if people were made aware.

I take the stack to my office and start entering the data on my trusted computer. I am actually a little angry that the media isn't involved, I call John to ask why.

"This is too touchy a subject Indigo, and with all the support the LGBT are getting now with parades and legalizing marriage, we would give too much fame to this killer." John sighed. "Look at the media recently, they are bashing the President, making abortion seem glamourous, this gets out and it would turn into pandemonium."

"I guess you are right," I tell him. "It just doesn't seem right to me, like these deaths don't matter."

I finish entering all the data and include the information on Samantha that we have so far. While the computer does any and all cross-references I go down the hall and get myself a Diet Coke out of the vending machine.

The computer has done its job again. I have a compiled list in a now more orderly fashion. The officers did a lot of Q&A to possible witnesses, friends, and family of the deceased, but came up empty-handed. A sick feeling hit my stomach and I decided to compile a new list with all the police involved in each case. Bingo, I have a list of three officers that worked on every case. I don't understand how not one murder suspect has been found. Only one in a hundred murders become cold cases.

Taking the three names, I do some extensive research and background checks on each one. James Monroe, been happily married to Kendra for fifteen years, a clean record before and after joining the force. Next is Paula Martinez, single, thirty-three, on the force here only two years. Seems she transferred here from California where she served four years on the force. And then there is Brad Whitley, also unmarried, but with two kids that live with their mother ages 7 and 19. Well, off I go to see what these three have to say.

I go to visit with James Monroe first. Not that I feel any bad vibes from him, but I like to be able to at least check him off my list. James is sitting at his desk chewing on a pencil. A good indication that he has quit smoking or is trying to. I walk over to him and he motions for me to sit down. After moving a stack of files off the chair I sit down and ask him his input on the cases.

"Gee Indigo, I can't really add anything to what we already faxed over, I wish I could help."

We talked a little more about the cases, then I asked him about his feelings on Paula Martinez and Brad Whitley.

"Brad is a great guy, a real comedian, any spare time he gets he spends with his kids."

"What about Paula, have you worked a lot of cases with her?" I asked patiently.

"A few," he replied hesitantly.

"She's real good, but kind of a loner, doesn't like partnering up with anyone unless forced to. I guess it must be all that California living. She does like to party though, I remember at this year's New Years party she got pretty wasted, had to call Uber to come and drive her home."

Paula is off tonight and Brad went to watch his kids soccer game. I decide to go back to my office and test a theory I have. I look through my notes until I find the description the hotel staff gave of the woman that was with Samantha. I pull up the license of Paula Martinez. I take just her photo, change the eye color, and add a wig to match the hair described by witnesses. I then print it. I print off photos of four other woman, altering hair and eye color to match the one I made of Paula. I stuff them in my bag and return to the hotel where Samantha was killed.

I go in and walk to the front desk, hoping to see the owners. It is a hotel so it's not like they close for the night. I want to see if they and any staff that saw the couple could look at my photos and identify Samantha's lover. It is just a hunch that I have, but it feels right. As luck would have it all but one staff member is working. I hunt down each staff member and show them the photos I brought with. Every one of them picked out the one I had made of Paula. Good for me, but not looking so good for Paula.

Returning home, I leave a voicemail with John to meet me in the morning. I change into my sweats and climb into bed. I am tired and pretty certain that our killer will not kill tonight. The pattern shows every week to ten days, so all are safe tonight.

I meet with John the following morning. He is happy I have a possible suspect, but not so happy with who it is. He works to get us a search warrant and goes to have Paula brought in for questioning. As for me, I am returning to my sisters poolside. It is a hot and sunny day.

As it turns out my hunch was correct and never will the media be the wiser. Paula's apartment had plenty of evidence and she will be locked up for a very long time.

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