Giselle

peeping tom

Giselle felt really stupid. As she sat between Jaden and Brent on the other side of Professor Lewis Barclay’s desk, she felt really stupid.

During her confrontation with Jaden a few minutes ago, she had forgotten to mention that Brent was also specializing in International Trade and Globalization. So imagine the shock he radiated when they entered the office and Brent sat there on one of the three seats in the office.

Brent had looked up at them as they entered the room and smiled as a welcome. This smile was nothing like the one he showed her in the lecture theatre. It was a simple welcome smile.

And Jaden, evidently in a bid to show Giselle that he trusted her, took the seat farthest from Brent, allowing her to sit next to him. It was an admirable gesture and would have been unmarred, if not for the tension that filled the air once she was seated.

The room felt like a high voltage wire: filled with deadly electricity. And as the electricity sparked, Giselle began to feel confused. Jaden’s protectiveness she could understand but the intense feeling of possession she felt from Brent left her reeling.

The way he curved in towards her whenever she spoke, the tingle she felt when their arms touched, or the intensity in his grey eyes whenever he looked at her. It might have been all in her head but she felt him wrap himself around her tighter and tighter as the meeting went on, so much so she found it difficult to concentrate on anything but him.

She focused in time, though, to hear the meeting being concluded.

“We’ll be using Seminar Room C for our meetings and lectures,” Professor Barclay was saying as he removed a plain sheet of paper from a drawer under the desk. “Here,” he said, pushing the paper across the smooth wooden table towards them. “Please write your name, phone number, house address and email address. I will create a w******p group to communicate any news and information on the dates and times of classes to you. Once you are all done filling your information, you can leave.”

Giselle waited but no one reached for the sheet and so, after sighing internally, she picked it up and producing a pen from her bag, quickly filled her and Jaden’s information. She slid the sheet to her right and offered the pen to Brent.

He smiled down at her as he took the pen from her hands. Their hands briefly made contact and Giselle’s body turned into a live wire.

Brent’s hands were no longer cold but touching him still sent a shiver down her spine. Damn. She needed to leave.

Without waiting to retrieve her pen, she thanked the Professor and headed out of the office. Once she reached the corridor, she took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully.

“Thank God the seminar room is bigger than this. I can’t do this for an entire year,” she whispered to herself. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Giselle turned at the sounds of the door behind her opening and closing. Jaden was exiting the office and Brent was on his heels.

Brent took a step towards her and extended the pen. “Here, you forgot this. Thanks”

No, she thought, I didn’t forget it at all. But said “You’re welcome” and took the pen consciously without touching him, while Jaden stood tensely to the side.

“So, uh, what’s the plan. Are we really free? Are we done for the day?” Brent asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Giselle nodded. “Yeah, today was just the orientation. Work will really resume tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. Are you heading somewhere or can we hang out?”

Seeing how tightly Jaden’s jaw was clenched, Giselle opted for the easy way out. “Sorry but we,” she gestured to Jaden, “are going to see a friend. Maybe later.”

Brent shrugged. “Sure, we have the entire year. Take care.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Giselle watched as he walked away, confidence radiating from every step he took. She didn’t know that was a turn-on until today. Okay.

She turned to her best friend and saw him unhappy but silent. She walked to him and punched him in the shoulder. “You wanna go somewhere?”

Jaden shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to see a ‘friend’,” he said, using air quotes for friend.

Giselle laughed and pointing a finger at him, feigned annoyance. “I was doing it for you. You better appreciate it or I’m going to take Brent on his offer.”

She waited but Jaden said nothing, looking down at her in amusement. She huffed and began to walk off in the same direction as Brent when Jaden wrapped his arms around her, lifted her and swung her around.

She yelped and burst out laughing as she was dropped to the ground. 22 years old and Jaden could still pick her up like a small backpack. She spun around to face him and poking his chest, whisper-scolded him. “We are in front of a professor’s office. Behave yourself.”

Unchastened, Jaden grabbed her poking hand and interlocked their hands, holding them to his chest. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Giselle answered instantly, forgetting the discipline she was trying to administer.

“For a drive.”

“Hmmm,” Giselle hummed, tilting her head. “New car drive. Sounds like fun.”

Jaden chuckled softly. “Yeah, new car drive.”

Giselle smiled back. “Let’s go.”

***

Gabi Alfaro was a very intelligent man. In the two years that they had been paired together, Sharon had seen that intelligence solve numerous murder cases. From obscure cases where the only piece of evidence was a broken glass shard to a suicide case that had been disguised as murder by the victim’s family to prevent social consequences.

Gabi had solved them all.

He always saw something in all the evidence and all the information that told him about the killer and how to get to him. And so, after two years, Sharon learned to take everything Gabi said as the gospel. She had come to trust him immensely.

Therefore, once he said the murderer they were searching for was a serial killer, Sharon did not question him. She simply believed. And it was a horrifying feeling.

She watched him as he murmured under his breath, brows furrowed, still staring at the spot where the victim was found. Swallowing, she asked in shaky voice, “Lieutenant, what makes you think that…that this was a serial killer?”

“It was too clean. Too neat. Too clean,” he responded, shaking his head. She waited, silent, but once again he did not elaborate but this time she was not having it.

“Lieutenant, please can you explain what you mean? Why do you think it was a serial killer? What makes you think the murder was even premediated? What do you mean by too clean and too neat? Please explain.”

“The cut on her neck. Did you see the pictures?” Gabi asked, raising his eyes to meet the detective’s.

Sharon nodded. She had seen the pictures but only just. The sight of the body had been too much for her. She had promptly dashed out of the house and emptied her stomach all over the front yard. So much for not contaminating evidence.

“Yes, sir. I saw the pictures.”

“Then you saw the cut. How clean it was.”

Sharon nodded again. It was a noticeable outlier from the rest of the cuts. “But it could have been a mistake, though. The murderer could have made the cut unintentionally and it came out cleaner than the rest.”

“No, no, no,” Gabi said, shaking his head. “It was not a vicious, senseless swing of a blade. It was a controlled strike. Like an incision made by a surgeon or an artist’s brushstroke. It was controlled. Precise and very intentional. No more a mistake than the Mona Lisa.”

“And you see, our killer,” Gabi continued, finally moving from the spot and walking towards the door. “Very much the artist, brought his own tools. And afraid that we would miss anything, preserved the exhibit for us by turning down the temperature.” He pointed to the thermostat on the wall beside the door. “Do you remember the thermostat?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why do you think that the temperature was turned so low?”

Sharon paused to think for a while. It was something that boggled them from day one and surprise surprise, she still had no idea why. Shaking her head, she waited for her superior to continue but he apparently lost all interest in doing so and was now staring at the locks on the door.

They were untouched, of course, and that suggested to them that the victim knew the murderer and let him or her in. It was late at night, as well. That meant Mary Payton was comfortable enough with the murderer to accommodate such a late visit.

It had to be someone she knew and trusted. An employee, a neighbour or maybe even one of the parents who adopted a child from the L for Love orphanage. But who? And why?

Sharon was jolted out of her musing by Gabi leaving the door and walking across the living room to the whitish curtain at the end.

Look at him, she thought, thinking but not talking. She had learnt a lot from him but she could learn more, a lot more, but only if he shared what was on his mind.

She watched him pull the curtains and stare out the window without any idea as to what he was looking for or at. The curtain fell together as he let them go.

He turned to her and said, “Let’s go outside.”

***

Summer was ending and the nights were getting cooler. Just the way he liked it. He sat behind a desk on one of the generic cushy office chairs and in front of him hung a 52-inch television. On the screen, four different cameras played their feed of a small apartment. A woman walked from one room to another, disappearing from one part of the screen and appearing on the other.

As he watched her undress, he thought that he deserved an award for the amount of restraint he had been exercising. He had been waiting, observing, watching.

Waiting.

He had not been idle, though. In fact, he had been quite busy. Four murders in five years with the last two had been within two months of each other. But the effort he expended in his killing was nothing compared to the effort it took him to restrain himself.

He wanted her. He needed her. She was the blood in his veins. He needed her to live and she was always so close. Close enough to lick, to bite, to kiss, to touch. She was so close.

However, there were obstacles that had to be removed. Some unexpected like Mary Payton. She proved to be a surprise obstacle to his path to his woman but no matter, he had taken care of her as well.

Just one left and she would be his. Giselle.

And so, he watched. Entranced, possessed as she took off her clothes slowly, completely unaware of the sexuality she exuded. His mouth watered and his blood heated. He was getting aroused but the show was just beginning.

He watched as she wrapped a cotton robe around herself and put her hair up, revealing the fine column of her neck. She walked out of her bedroom and into the bathroom, once again appearing on another portion of the screen.

The camera feed for the bathroom, however, was slightly unsatisfying. The white paint made it almost impossible to plant a camera in the proper and preferred position, the junction between the ceiling and the wall, and unlike the other rooms where he had a good vintage point of the entire space, the camera in the bathroom only captured the bathtub and part of the shower.

It was often a source of frustration but today was an exception. Because after a quick shower, Giselle had decided to have a soak in the bathtub and that gave him uncensored access to her wet and naked body.

Panting, he watched with wide eyes as she slid into the ceramic tub, water rippling and splashing as she entered. She massaged her body, running her slender fingers up and down her upper body. Cupping her breasts, he watched as she pinched them, moaning at the act.

Sweat beaded on his upper lip as he watched her slide her hand under the water and arch in pleasure. He watched, his body taut with unreleased tension, as she moaned and writhed and curled. This was why a worthless person like him existed. To see this masterpiece. She was the reason for his existence.

He leaned forward on the desk, fingernails scraping at the wooden surface, breath coming in short bursts. A hiss escaped from between his teeth as pleasure shot up his spine. He closed his eyes, unable to bear it and pushed his shoulders into the padding of the chair.

He held his body taut as pleasure wracked through him. He paused and panted, waiting for his lungs and heart to recover. He opened his eyes in time to see Giselle conclude her seduction act and slump deeper into the tub.

They were meant to be together. He just knew it.