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Stan and Tori Donovans’ memorial was today. Agent O’Riordan felt an obligation to make an appearance.
The evening matched the somber occasion. The sky was gray and it appeared as if in any minute the heavens would open up and let the rain out. Agent O’Riordan found a place in the back, not wanting to disturb the family. He listened intently, as the minister spoke of the Donovans and their love for each other and their families.
The Donovans would spend their eternal rest in an elaborate mausoleum in the cemetery. Several mausoleums, marble gravestones, stone angels, and cherubs graced the cemetery, some dating back to the civil war. It was a peaceful place to be laid to rest. Agent O’Riordan felt a deep sympathy for their families, as the minister spoke the final words, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...” Tori Donovan’s mother was beside herself with grief and regrettably, there were no words of comfort he could offer her. These poor souls wouldn’t be able to rest until their murderers were brought to justice. “On Angels Wings” played as the coffins were placed into the mausoleum. O’Riordan slipped away before the family was ready to depart.
O’Riordan heard his name being called and turned around. Stan Donovan’s dad was walking towards him, “Agent, please catch this bastard for us.”
“Yes sir, I am planning on it.”
***
DEAN ALBRIGHT HAD BEEN keeping track of Agent O’Riordan’s moves. He must think the Donovans’ deaths had something to do with Thorguson and his accomplice or he wouldn’t be here. If the FBI had linked any murders to the men, they hadn’t released any of the information. Albright wasn’t sure who the woman was with O’Riordan, but he intended to find out.
Albright took a quick nip of the Maker’s Mark whiskey he kept in his flask, just for fortification. He felt the delicious warmth of the liquor make its way down his throat. This had been one of those days where he needed to feel something. The day was rainy and plain gloomy, fitting weather for a funeral.
Albright had kept his distance, watching from his Lexus. He didn’t want O’Riordan to know he was following him, or he would attempt to put a gag order on him. Albright had his sources and had also been keeping up with unsolved murders. If his research was correct, this story would be bigger than just Thorguson escaping from prison. Albright had heard rumors that O’Riordan was becoming obsessed with this case and capturing this duo. If only Albright could get near O’Riordan and ask him if he suspected that there was another serial killer out there with Thorguson, one who was just as depraved as him.
Albright suspected that he may be onto a case big enough for a book. Something that might land him on the coveted bestseller list. He needed to get all his facts straight. He was willing to do anything for this story. He started his car as O’Riordan and his date drove off.
***
WHEN THEY LEFT THE funeral, it was late afternoon and the sun had started to set. Meghan kept quiet on the way back to the hotel. Neither one of them was hungry, the grimness of the day wore heavy on their hearts. The families of the deceased had been inconsolable. Meghan studied O’Riordan’s profile.
Meghan could tell the Donovans' funeral had upset him more than he wanted to admit. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. He kissed her hand and said, “Thank you for accompanying me today.”
“I wanted to be here for you. You know, this isn’t your fault. There is no way you could have ever predicted any of this.”
“If only I had pursued this killer when I first became aware of his signature.”
“O’Riordan, it wasn’t your call. You just had suspicions and not hard evidence.”
“It bothers me that even after all this time; with all these murders, no one has a description of this killer. This man has made no mistakes, left no clues behind - even after helping Thorguson escape. It’s like he is a ghost. How does he stay so well hidden and where the hell are they headed to next?
“He has lived a gypsy lifestyle as far as I can tell. He has to pick up odd jobs to survive, but how does he find the work? We know he drives a motor home, so it must be insured, but how? Unless he has gotten lucky all these years, without being stopped for not having plates. He may even steal plates on similar motor homes and swap as needed.”
***
MEGHAN WANTED TO HELP O’Riordan forget about today’s funerals, and take a breather from the case for a brief moment in time. After leaving the funeral she had tried to ease the tension by inviting him inside for a drink, but the man was focused on finding the killer. But she feared that if he didn’t relieve some of the tension building up inside of him he would have a heart attack. Since she couldn’t convince him to stay the night, there was only one thing to do – go to him. By the time she had made it to the hotel, O’Riordan was getting settled into his hotel room.
She impatiently knocked on his door. She greeted him with a passionate kiss and pushed his suit jacket off of him, where it dropped to the floor with a thud. She loosened his tie next, never breaking her kiss. She didn’t want to give him the chance to say no. His hands moved up and started to massage her breasts, teasing her nipples. Her clothes pooled at her feet as he lifted her up and carried her to the bed.
“I want you so bad, O’Riordan. I can’t wait.” She felt like molten lava, desire flickered in her eyes. Meghan ran her hands up and down his body, enjoying the way his sinewy muscles felt. He tilted her face up to his one more time, kissing her with such passion. His touch explored, sending goose bumps up and down her skin. His erection pressed into her body. She stroked him, already wild with need for him. She was already wet and ready for him; her very core throbbed to feel him inside her.
She moaned when he took her breast into his mouth. “Jackson, please, I need you.”
He continued trailing hot kisses down her body, sending erotic sensations through her very being. The light stubble of his beard was more than she could take; it sent an erotic shock straight to her core. She ran her hands through his hair, clinging to him. “O’Riordan, please.” He entered her in one swift movement. She opened herself wider for him, taking all of him. She wanted to be one with him, completely. The hot friction of him moving inside her was pure, sweet torture. Each thrust brought her closer to orgasm. She lifted herself up higher to him, feeling him plunge even deeper inside her. Jackson’s thrusts grew faster, more urgent. Fireworks exploded inside her, as she climaxed. Her body tightened around his erection. She heard Jackson cry out as he found his own release. Afterwards, neither one wanted to move, enjoying being in each other’s embrace.
***
O’RIORDAN NEEDED TO take a step away from the case and come back the next day with a clear head. He had been working without a break and thought of nothing except the case, even in his sleep. Even Meghan had been trying to get him to think of something else for a brief period of time.
Meghan was the one good thing about this case. He couldn’t picture his life without her. Once this case was over, they would go their separate ways, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. Maybe after all was said and done, they could work something out.
Right now, he had a couple of serial killers to find and until they were behind bars, he couldn’t afford to take time off. Besides, he despised days off. He ran and worked out, but that was to stay in shape. Running was his stress relief in the morning.
Hell, he didn’t even own a house, just a small furnished apartment. Why waste the money, when he was never there? He seemed to always be on the road, chasing one psychopath after another. They never stopped coming; it never ended.