The Doll Collector's Son

Chapter 9: Jordan

I was just barely out of the parking lot when Annalise's name lit up my screen. I answered through the Bluetooth, switching on the left turn signal. My mind was still on the connection between the women and past Doll Collector victims. Someone was going to be murdered in honor of my mother, but she wasn't killed. Maybe this one will live too, maybe taken as a hostage?

"Jordan, did you hear me?" Annalise asked in a shrill voice.

It snapped me back to the moment.

"Sorry, what?" I replied, switching on my turn signal again.

"The victims, they match up with those of the past." She said.

"Yeah, I know."

"Jordan, Maria Gonzalez is next. The next victim will have the initials MG, and they've been leaving you notes. Marina Galindo, Jordan."

The information passed through the speakers in real time, but it reached me in slow motion. Marina Galindo, MG, Maria Gonzalez. Messages being left for me, the newest victim an homage to my mother, whose initials matched my girlfriend's. They were the two most important women to me.

"Annie, we had a fight, she left my apartment!" I cried.

"Already on it." Annalise said, her wheel screeching audibly through the speaker. "Stay on the line."

I hit the gas pedal, crossing a red light. Several cars honked at me, likely having seen their lives flash before their eyes. Marina's apartment was about ten miles from the field office. I made a sharp left onto the next street, pressing the pedal down further.

"She's gonna be okay." Annalise assured.

"I'm an idiot, she asked me to stay and I did not. I could have protected her!"

I slammed a hand on the steering wheel, cursing myself. Right then in that moment, I made a promise to myself that if Marina was okay, I would pay more attention and be a better man for her. If something did happen to her, I could never forgive myself.

"Coming up on her complex." Annalise announced as I ran yet another red light.

"Wait for me."

One more hard left turn and I could see Annalise's car haphazardly parked on the curb. Her door was wide open, keys still in the ignition. I ignored the urge to lock it up and dashed up to the door. Annalise was jamming a finger into the button marked Galindo. I nudged her away, punching in the code. A loud buzzer sounded as the door unlocked, then we rushed through, allowing it to slam shut behind us. Marina's apartment was just at the top of the second floor.

I took the stairs two at a time, preparing to draw my weapon. Sweat sprouted on my hairline as I made it to the top. I held my breath, realizing the door was unlocked. My hand stopped shaking the moment I reached out to pull the knob. Annalise arrived within seconds, nodding as we prepared to step inside.

The TV was on, low volume, but I could just make out what it was saying. I lifted my gun out in front of me. 

Images of Marina tied up and hidden in the closet propelled me forward. It reminded me of the stories my mother had finally told me about that night. I'd just graduated from the FBI academy, and she felt comfortable describing that night. How she had hidden in his closet and had come upon Barbara's body. I would not allow Marina the same experience.

A flash of movement from the sofa earned the sharp cry of, "FBI, do not move." It was followed by a high pitched shriek.

Seated on the sofa with her legs up to her chest was a young woman. Who was this? A figure emerged hurriedly from the bathroom. I lowered my gun immediately as Annalise began to inspect rooms and I focused on the figure glaring up at me.