The Binding

Chapter Twelve

   The Detective's eyes slowly trailed along my arms to my face, mapping the tension but didn't say anything. He watched me change from nervous to relaxed to anxious and tense in a few seconds. For reasons I couldn't fathom he wasn't looking at me like I was crazy.   

   I told him about the attack, the few pieces I had pulled together since that day... what little I could, leaving out the most important information. I looked past him at the dry erase board. There was a photograph of Curtis along with other photographs of women. I assumed those where the women he had killed. They were young, pretty, with long light brown hair. They all looked like me. Clearly, he was a hunter with a particular preference. Aren't they always?

    "It happened very quickly, I didn't get a strong look at them."

   "Them?"

   "Yes," I nodded. "There were two. But I didn't see the other man. I don't think he ever touched me."

    "Why did they run away so suddenly?" he asked.

    "There was the sound of people approaching. He called me a bitch and ran off."

    "If you didn't get a good look at him, how do you know it was Curtis Pope who attacked you?"

    "Because I ran into him again a few weeks later."

   That stopped him short. "You... what? Where?"

    "At a café on Couch Street. I was leaving, and he was looking for a table. I have to admit I didn't immediately recognize him at the time," I answered. I was beginning to feel like such a fool. It had only been a few weeks. How was it possible I didn't recognize him?

   Because in the last few months being stabbed to death in an alley was the most normal thing to happen to me... the last normal thing to happen to me. Curtis Pope was the least of my concerns, and I'd allowed myself to forget about him. I wanted to forget about him.

    "Did he say anything to you?" I couldn't tell if he believed me or was humoring me.

    "He was... ummm... flirting with me. Tried to get me to stay." I hemmed for a bit trying to remember Curtis' face in the café. "I don't know if he didn't recognize me or was just pretending not to. But he did seem like he was trying to place my face. I don't know... he made me uncomfortable, so I left right away."

    "When was this?"

   I pointed to the date written on the board. "The evening before you found him."

   The Detective's eyes widened a bit. "Are you certain?"

   I nodded, "Positive." He sat back and thought to himself for a moment. My eyes strayed back to the board. There were other photographs. Most of them looked like locations and evidence. One was of graffiti sprayed across some kind of metal wall.

    "Curtis Pope approached you only hours before he died?" I nodded. "But you didn't recognize him as your attacker at the time?" he asked.

    "I'm afraid not. I recognized him as the man from the café immediately when I saw the article in the paper. It took a few moments to realize he was the same man who attacked me."

    "Until that time did you have any indication that you were being followed? Did you ever seen him?" he prodded. I shook my head. "Did you notice anything or anyone else strange at the time?"

   I shook my head again. "No." 

   He shook his head and exhaled slowly. "You fit Curtis Pope's victim preference perfectly. If he was stalking you again, then I think you are a very lucky woman. Someone may be looking out for you."