Desire (Joey Quinn from Dexter)

Chapter 10: Strings

A long week had passed. And yet, no decision had been made regarding the case. Joey was starting to lose it. He'd pressured his own Lieutenant, settled with the promise she was still looking into it and the best possible scenario for it to unfold properly. All the while, Tara Collins was still being prosecuted for murder. It was clear LaGuerta simply intended to get her conviction, to clear the way for any remaining developments such as the discovery of the videos until after it was all over and there was less wiggle room for doubt.

He couldn't wait that long. So, after hours, Joey had taken the time out of his own evenings to investigate, to try and get somewhere.

He had to look at the videos again. This time, all of them. With the copies he had, he gathered all the young faces from the beginning of the video, as they stood in front of the camera and introduced themselves to Price's sick and twisted soon to be snuff movie. The things Joey saw were downright subhuman, yet he knew there was more beyond feeling bad for what he had to witness.

He forced himself to treat it like work. Like evidence. Like faces on a board instead of lives interrupted. He paused each recording at the same moment, just long enough to catch a name, distinctive tattoos or piercings, something to help him identify those girls. Some of them barely spoke above a whisper. Some tried to smile. Joey shut the sound off after the introductions every time. He didn't need to hear more to know how it ended.

In a notebook, he wrote each name down carefully, associating them with each video. He added what little else he could gather. Accents. Tattoos. A birthmark on a collarbone. Small things. Human things. He cross referenced missing persons databases, county by county, then widened the search which ultimately turned up nothing.

That sat the heaviest. The idea that someone could vanish and the world wouldn't notice enough to file paperwork.

But there was a big chance the names weren't even their real ones. It was more than likely that the girls who were targeted worked the streets, selling sex for money or drugs. From the lack of information on them and how uncomfortable they seemed on tape, that had to be the first choice. A murderer's choice.

Glancing at the clock, it was already past midnight. But Joey knew he wouldn't get any sleep. After all, who would?

He knew what he should do. As a detective, he had to investigate, whether by the book or not. He just wanted to ease the burning sensation in his chest, the feeling that he wanted to prove anyone is worthy of being given proper closure.

Keys jingled, engine roared, and suddenly, he was driving down the shadiest streets in Miami. Knowing them all like the back of his hand from his days as a rookie cop, canvasing the areas wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Alleys crawling with women in bad situations and drug addiction, almost going hand in hand. Crack dens, pimps and anything illegal was more than likely to happen in these streets. He knew it would be the best place to start and hope for a lead.

His headlights shined upon women eyeing up his car, all of them dressed in extremely revealing clothing, waiting to be chosen and paid for their time just so they could fund their lives a little more. Joey drove down, canvassing the area and pulling over next to a younger girl who stood alone, hugging herself as if she were cold or just extremely insecure.

Joey rolled the window down, careful with the movement. The girl didn't flinch, but her shoulders stayed tense, arms folded tightly across herself. Up close, she looked exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with the hour. Smudged eyeliner. Chapped lips. A thin jacket that did nothing to stop the night air from chilling her already thin body.

"What's your name?" He asked. The girl looked at him, taking exactly one step forward as if to analyze who was asking.

"Darcy," she said. But the tone of her voice had her sounding like that wasn't what she'd been named at birth.