BUFFY READING LIST
As promised @possession1981 and I have compiled a list of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and Angel) related academic text and books. I think this is a good starting point for both a long time fan and for someone just getting into the show, or just someone interested in vampire lore. I have included several books about the vampire lore and myth in general as well. Most of these are available online.
BOOKS
Fighting the Forces: What's at Stake in Buffy the Vampire Slayer; edited by Rhonda V. Wilcox & David Lavery
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy - Fear and Trembling in Sunnydale by James B. South
Buffy Goes Dark: Essays on the Final Two Seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on Television, edited by Lynne Y. Edwards, Elizabeth L. Rambo & James B. South
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Myth, Metaphor and Morality by Mark Field
Televised Morality: The Case of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Gregory Stevenson
Undead TV: Essays on Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Elana Levine
The Aesthetics of Culture in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Matthew Pateman
Girls Who Bite Back: Witches, Mutants, Slayers and Freaks by Emily Pohl-Weary
Why Buffy Matters: The Art of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Ronda Wilcox
Into Every Generation a Slayer Is Born: How Buffy Staked Our Hearts by Evan Ross Katz
The Lure of the Vampire: Gender, Fiction, and Fandom from Bram Stoker to Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Milly Williamson
Blood Relations: Chosen Families in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel by Jes Battis
Sex and the Slayer: A Gender Studies Primer for the Buffy Fan by Lorna Jowett
Diseases of the Head: Essays on the Horrors of Speculative Philosophy; edited by Matt Rosen (chapter 2 Death of Horror)
Public Privates: Feminist Geographies of Mediated Spaces by Marcia R. England (chapter 1 Welcome to the Hellmouth: Paradoxical Spaces in Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Open Graves, Open Minds: Representations of Vampires and the Undead From the Enlightenment to the Present Day; edited by Sam George and Bill Hughes (chapter 8 ‘I feel strong. I feel different’: transformations, vampires and language in Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
The Contemporary Television Series; edited by Michael Hammond and Lucy Mazdon (chapter 9 Television, Horror and Everyday Life in Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Joss Whedon and Race: Critical Essays; edited by Mary Ellen Iatropoulos and Lowery A. Woodall III
Buffy and the Heroine's Journey: Vampire Slayer as Feminine Chosen One by Valerie Estelle Frankel
The Existential Joss Whedon: Evil and Human Freedom in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly and Serenity by J. Michael Richardson and J. Douglas Rabb
Buffy the Vampire Slayer 20 Years of Slaying: The Watcher's Guide Authorized by Christopher Golden
Reading the Vampire Slayer: The Complete, Unofficial Guide to 'Buffy' and 'Angel' by Roz Kaveney
Hollywood Vampire: The Unnoficial Guide to Angel by Keith Topping
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Monster Book by Christopher Golden
Slayer Slang: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Lexicon by Michael Adams
What Would Buffy Do? The Vampire Slayer as Spiritual Guide by Jana Riess
ARTICLES, PAPERS ETC.
Bibliographic Good vs. Evil in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by GraceAnne A. DeCandido
Undead Letters: Searches and Researches in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by William Wandless
Weaponised information: The role of information and metaphor in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Jacob Ericson
Buffy, Dark Romance and Female Horror Fans by Lorna Jowett
My Vampire Boyfriend: Postfeminism, "Perfect" Masculinity, and the Contemporary Appeal of Paranormal Romance by Ananya Mukherjea
Buffy, The Vampire Slayer as Spectacular Allegory: A Diagnostic Critique by Douglas Kellner
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer": Technology, Mysticism, and the Constructed Body by Sara Raffel
When Horror Becomes Human: Living Conditions in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" by Jeroen Gerrits
Post-Vampire: The Politics of Drinking Humans and Animals in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight", and "True Blood" by Laura Wright
Cops, Teachers, and Vampire Slayers: Buffy as Street-Level Bureaucrat by Andrea E. Mayo
"Not Like Other Men"?: The Vampire Body in Joss Whedon's "Angel" by Lorna Jowett
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Domestic Church: Revisioning Family and the Common Good by Reid B. Locklin
“Buffy vs. Dracula”’s Use of Count Famous (Not drawing “crazy conclusions about the unholy prince”) by Tara Elliott
A Little Less Ritual and a Little More Fun: The Modern Vampire in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Stacey Abbott
Undressing the Vampire: An Investigation of the Fashion of Sunnydale’s Vampires by Robbie Dale
"And Yet": The Limits of Buffy Feminism by Renee St. Louis & Miriam Riggs
Meet the Cullens: Family, Romance and Female Agency in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Twilight by Kirsten Stevens
Bliss and Time: Death, Drugs, and Posthumanism in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Rob Cover
That Girl: Bella, Buffy, and the Feminist Ethics of Choice in Twilight and Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Catherine Coker
A Slayer Comes to Town: An Essay on Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Scott Westerfeld
Undead Objects of a “Queer Gaze” : A Visual Approach to Buffy’s Vampires Using Lacan’s Extended RSI Model by Marcus Recht
When You Kiss Me, I Want to Die: Gothic Relationships and Identity on Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Ananya Mukherjeea
Necrophilia and SM: The Deviant Side of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Terry L. Spaise
Queering the Bitch: Spike, Transgression and Erotic Empowerment by Dee Amy-Chinn
“I Want To Be A Macho Man”: Examining Rape Culture, Adolescent Female Sexuality, and the Destabilization of Gender Binaries in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Angelica De Vido
Staking Her Claim: Buffy the Vampire Slayer as Transgressive Woman Warrior by Frances H. Early
Actualizing Abjection: Drusilla, the Whedonversees’ Queen of Queerness by Anthony Stepniak
“Life Isn’t A Story”: Xander, Andrew and Queer Disavowal in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Steven Greenwood
S/He’s a Rebel: The James Dean Trope in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Kathryn Hill
“Once More, with Feeling”: Emotional Self-Discipline in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Gwynnee Kennedy and Jennifer Dworshack-Kinter
“The Hardest Thing in This World Is To Live In It”: Identity and Mental Health in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Alex Fixler
"Love's Bitch But Man Enough to Admit It": Spikes Hybridized Gender by Arwen Spicer
Negotiations After Hegemony: Buffy and Gender by Franklin D. Worrell
Double Trouble: Gothic Shadows and Self-Discovery in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Elizabeth Gilliland
'What If I'm Still There? What If I Never Left That Clinic?': Faërian Drama in Buffy's "Normal Again" by Janet Brennan Croft
Not Gay Enough So You’d Notice: Poaching Fuffy by Jennifer DeRoss
Throwing Like A Slayer: A Phenomenology of Gender Hybridity and Female Resilience in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Debra Jackson
“You Can’t Charge Innocent People for Saving Their Lives!” Work in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Matt Davies
Ambiguity and Sexuality in Buffy the Vampire Slayer: A Sartrean Analysis by Vivien Burr
Imagining the Family: Representations of Alternative Lifestyles in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Vivien Burr and Christine Jarvis
Working-Class Hero? Fighting Neoliberal Precarity in Buffy’s Sixth Season by Michelle Maloney-Mangold
A Corpse by Any Other Name: Romancing the Language of the Body in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein for the Adam Storyline in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Amber P. Hodge
Sensibility Gone Mad: Or, Drusilla, Buffy and the (D)evolution of the Heroine of Sensibility by Claire Knowles
"It's good to be me": Buffy's Resistance to Renaming by Janet Brennan Croft
Death as a Gift in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Work and Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Gaelle Abalea
“All Torment, Trouble, Wonder, and Amazement Inhabits Here": The Vicissitudes of Technology in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by James B. South
Staking Her Colonial Claim: Colonial Discourses, Assimilation, Soul-making, and Ass-kicking in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Jessica Hautsch
“I Run To Death”: Renaissance Sensibilities in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Christine Jarvis
Dressed To Kill: Fashion and Leadership in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Christine Jarvis and Don Adams
Queer Eye Of That Vampire Guy: Spike and the Aesthetics of Camp by Cynthea Masson and Marni Stanley
“Sounds Like Kinky Business To Me”: Subtextual and Textual Representations of Erotic Power in Buffyverse by Lewis Call
“Did Anyone Ever Explain to You What ‘Secret Identity’ Means?”: Race and Displacement in Buffy and Dark Angel by Cynthia Fuchs
“It’s About Power”: Buffy, Foucault, and the Quest for Self by Julie Sloan Brannon
Why We Love the Monsters: How Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer Wound Up Dating the Enemy by Hilary M. Leon
Why We Can’t Spike Spike?: Moral Themes in Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Richard Greene and Wayne Yuen
Buffy, the Scooby Gang, and Monstrous Authority: BtVS and the Subversion of Authority by Daniel A. Clark & P. Andrew Miller
Are Vampires Evil?: Categorizations of Vampires, and Angelus and Spike as the Immoral and the Amoral by Gert Magnusson
BOOKS ABOUT VAMPIRE LORE AND MYTH IN GENERAL
The Vampire Lectures by Laurence A. Rickels
Our Vampires, Ourselves by Nina Auerbach
Vampires, Burial, and Death: Folklore and Reality by Paul Barber
The Secret History of Vampires: Their Multiple Forms and Hidden Purposes by Claude Lecouteux
The Vampire Cinema by David Pirie
The Living and the Undead: Slaying Vampires, Exterminating Zombies by Gregory A. Waller
Vampire Forensics: Uncovering the Origins of an Enduring Legend by Mark Jenkins
Slayers and Their Vampires: A Cultural History of Killing the Dead by Bruce A. McClelland
The History and Folklore of Vampires: The Stories and Legends Behind the Mythical Beings by Charles River Editors
Encyclopedia of Vampire Mythology by Theresa Bane
Vampires of Lore: Traits and Modern Misconceptions by A. P. Sylvia
The Vampire: A New History by Nick Groom
Vampyres: Genesis and Resurrection: from Count Dracula to Vampirella by Christopher Frayling
Race in the Vampire Narrative by U. Melissa Anyiwo
Vampires, Race, and Transnational Hollywoods by Dale Hudson
227 notes
·
View notes
Chapter 18 - Part II
The Princess & The Lawyer Chapter XVIII - Part II
Summary: Lloyd is rattled by unexpected news from Elliot that sends him into an emotional spiral and delays his return. Aiden is arrested for a shocking crime and Landon gives a profile of the stalker.
Word Count: 6,670
Masterlist
Warnings: Physical violence, strangulation, attempted drowning. References to stalking, the U.S. military draft process, war and military service, drug addiction, family estrangement, international adoption, murder, and death.
Author’s Note: I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I was planning to finish it sooner, but I had a virus of some kind for the past week.
Chapter XVIII - Part II
The engine of the Mercury purred like the big cat it was named after as Lloyd exited I-15 and rolled to a stop at the light. He admired the way the hood gleamed in the afternoon sun.
“You did a great job on the body work,” Lloyd said.
“Thanks,” Elliot replied.
Ahead of them, the light was stubbornly red. Lloyd drummed his fingers on the wheel.
“I was shocked how many people showed up to the funeral,” he said.
“They weren’t there for him, they came for us.”
“I know. Can you believe Mrs. Wilcox stepped foot in a Catholic church? Do you think she’ll have to repent before the Baptists take her back?”
Elliot laughed. “No, they have a new pastor. He’s not as hardline as the old one.”
“Oh, man. I bet she hates that.”
“She stopped going to church for a month when he took over.”
Lloyd tried to imagine Mrs. Wilcox without picturing her going to church three times a week and couldn’t quite fill in the picture. The light turned green and he rolled through the intersection.
“What ticked her off?”
“The new preacher didn’t condemn drinking alcohol.”
“Ah… that makes sense. The no alcohol thing is one of her favorite rules. Did you notice she only played Baptist hymns during the service? I was sure she’d pick a classic for the finale, like ‘Amazing Grace’ but she went with ‘The Gate Ajar.’”
“She’s probably hoping to draw some converts to the Baptist with better music.”
“Hey, if the Baptists can drink now, she’s got a fighting chance.”
Elliot snickered. Lloyd scanned ahead for the turn off to the rehab facility.
“Did you know Uncle Joe served in the Marines? I didn’t.”
“Yeah,” Lloyd said. “I knew he’d been in the corps, but only because I found his draft papers in the basement when I was a kid.”
“Draft papers? He was drafted?”
“His card got pulled in ‘69 and he did two tours. We never talked about it. I knew better than to ask. Eventually, it just sort of faded from my mind because he never brought it up.”
“Isn’t that weird?” Elliot asked.
Lloyd shrugged.
“Do you think that’s why he was… the way he was?”
The way he was. Lloyd contemplated the phrase. How was Joe? The first word that came to mind was quite simply: mean. The stern demeanor, thirst for vengeance, and his desperate need for control might have had roots in his time overseas. Who knew what effect the brutality of guerrilla warfare would’ve had on Joe as an eighteen year old. Lloyd wondered if his father had been in a similar state of mind as he’d found himself in at that age. Perhaps the simmering rage had been hardened into something more deadly by the explosive violence of those two years in the jungle.
“I don’t know. Maybe, but no one can know for sure. Even if it did, Joe wouldn’t have admitted it.”
Lloyd turned in at the rehab facility and parked near the front doors. Elliot checked in with the admissions clerk, who took his luggage and disappeared down the hall, giving them a moment to say goodbye.
“Were you serious about staying in touch?” Elliot asked.
“Yeah. I haven’t decided about the ranch yet, but we’ll need to coordinate on that when the time comes.”
Elliot stared at him. “Coordinate?”
“Joe left you half the ranch.”
“Come again?”
Lloyd clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “I’ll have the lawyer send you a copy of the will, okay? We’re business partners now. That is, unless you’d rather sell.”
Elliot looked dumbstruck. “Uh-huh. Yeah… I don’t know. Do you want to?”
“I haven’t decided. How about we wait six months to make a final determination? It’ll give you time to get back on your feet and I can think things over. But if you need cash now, I can arrange a sale.”
“We should talk about that… later.” Elliot glanced over his shoulder to the desk, where the nurse was working on her computer. “Hang on a second, will you?”
Lloyd watched as Elliot approached the nurse, then accepted a small green notepad and pen. He scribbled something down and ripped off the page before handing it back to her.
“Here. Since you were serious about staying in touch, don’t limit yourself to just me, okay?”
Lloyd looked at the paper. There were two unfamiliar addresses written down, one nearby in Park City and the other in Denver. He looked at Elliot. “What’s this?”
His cousin shoved his hands in his pockets, rolling his shoulders.
“I know you’ve never gotten in contact, which, you know… uh… speaks for itself… but I think you should have that. Just in case you change your mind.”
Lloyd studied the addresses and then Elliot’s anxious expression.
“If you’re still angry-” he broke off, sighing. “You can’t blame them for something that was out of their control.”
“Blame who? For what?” Lloyd asked, losing patience as Elliot skirted around the point without explanation.
“Ingrid and Josephine. They’re your family, too.”
Words died on Lloyd’s tongue, stolen by the impact of the revelation. He re-read the addresses and cemented them into his memory.
“Will you say something?” Elliot said, annoyed.
“I thought they were dead.”
“Dead? Why? You couldn’t find them?” Elliot asked.
Lloyd shook his head, “I never looked… because I thought… I figured…”
“Why would you think they were dead?”
“Joe always settled his debts. Always. If she ran away, that meant…”
He couldn’t finish the thought, but saw understanding flash in Elliot’s eyes.
“They’re alive, and they’d be thrilled to hear from you.”
“Thank you, Elliot.”
They didn’t hug goodbye, just nodded at each other. Then he watched his cousin walk through the double doors that led to a long hallway. Lloyd slid on his sunglasses and headed out to the parking lot. The note in his hand felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He shoved the paper into his wallet and climbed behind the wheel in a daze. He didn’t remember the drive from Salt Lake into Wyoming, but the next thing he knew, he was filling up with gas in Rock Springs.
He’d planned to drop off the Mercury in Salt Lake and have it shipped to D.C. Lloyd checked his watch and realized that appointment, as well as his flight, had long passed. There were a dozen missed calls on his phone. He wondered why he’d driven east, when he could’ve headed to Park City and seen Josie just as easily. It wasn’t too late to swing down to Denver and look up Ingrid; the stop wouldn’t be too far out of his way.
What would he say? After all those years of assuming the worst, he'd been wrong. He had to reach out to them and that terrified him.
They’d want to know why he hadn’t contacted them, why he’d let them go so easily, and ignored their existence for the past twenty years. How could he explain that the risk had outweighed the reward? Denial and avoidance and selfishness had cost him the most important people in his life. He cursed himself for it now and saw the stark truth - he’d given up on his sisters without a shred of factual evidence, leaning on emotional reasoning designed and tailored to protect himself.
He couldn’t explain that, not in his current state of mind, so he turned back onto I-80 and headed home.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You heard footsteps and jerked around so fast you nearly fell off your chair. The unexpected sight of the man behind you stole the breath from your lungs.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Easy, Princess. It’s just me.”
Jake raised his arms in mock surrender as you pressed a hand to your racing heart and inhaled through your nose.
“Zach let me in,” he explained.
“Sorry. I’m still on edge from last night. What are you doing here?”
He grimaced. Your pulse, which had just begun to slow, galloped in response to the expression.
“Did something happen with the case? To Lloyd? Is he okay?”
“Nothing happened with the case - as far as I know - and Lloyd… I have no idea. He called me at six-thirty this morning and threatened to rip me apart limb by limb. I’ve been ducking his calls ever since.”
You frowned. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell him about Aiden last night, but I chickened out at the last minute.”
Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Well, that explains the phone call. Come on, Diskant is waiting.”
He led you through the kitchen and dining room, into the living area.
Zach lounged in the ornate Fauteuil chair on the far side of the room, his right ankle hooked over his left knee. The perfect stillness of his posture belied his casual bearing. The frozen, statue-like demeanor made your heart sink, as your attention shifted to the tall man who rose from the couch to greet you.
“Good afternoon,” Diskant said, extending his hand.
You greeted him and settled on the loveseat with Jake, directly across from the sofa.
“I’m sorry to inform you of this, but early this morning, Aiden LeDoux was arrested for attempting to break into your apartment.”
The words hit you like a trap door opening under your feet. You didn’t know if you should celebrate or shudder.
“When? How was he caught?”
Diskant glanced at Jake, who shifted nervously beside you.
“I asked Jake to trail Aiden,” Zach said.
“Starting when?” you asked.
“Saturday morning,” Jake said. “I’ve been following him all weekend.”
Diskant spoke. “He found Aiden trying to pick the lock of your apartment door. Jake contacted building security and took video of the act, so we have clear evidence of the attempted break-in.”
Your arms squeezed around your midsection. “And? Where is he now?”
“Jail, but we expect him to make bail soon.”
“Right.”
Detective Diskant glanced at Jake before meeting your eyes.
“There’s something else… While investigating the break in attempt, Jake located something unusual. We found a hidden camera in the hallway. It was tucked behind the welcome wreath on your across-the-hall neighbor’s door. The camera was pointed at your apartment and was live-streaming to an unknown IP address.”
- - -
For the next two hours you reviewed every detail of your case with Diskant. You seized a throw pillow and hugged it to your torso, digging your fingers into its softness for comfort. The detective’s pen scratched on the page as he scribbled in his journal.
Landon had joined your meeting an hour ago, since his shift tailing Aiden became a moot point when his bail hearing was pushed to Tuesday morning. You felt Landon’s perceptive eyes on you, taking in every detail of your reactions.
“Remind me what initially caused you to suspect Aiden when you realized you were being stalked?” Diskant asked.
“No one else made sense. Aiden was the only person I’d upset recently, and he’d just gone through a stressful event, losing his job.”
Diskant frowned. Zach leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.
“I think we should consider other suspects,” he said.
“What leads you to that conclusion?” Diskant asked.
“Last night, when someone tried to turn us into road kill, Aiden was playing basketball with friends on the other side of town - Jake witnessed it himself. The initial contact from the stalker where he quoted: “Don’t ask who’s there…” that’s a line from Scream, which was released in ’96. In other messages I found more references to horror movies. He quotes Misery and Candyman verbatim in some of the threats. It’s hard to tell if the quotes were deliberate or if the phrases were naturally absorbed into his lexicon. The movies he’s referencing are from the 90s, well before Aiden started watching horror flicks.”
Diskant nodded. You noticed he didn’t take any notes.
Zach sighed and glanced at you, then continued. “The third factor is Aiden’s personality. I made it a point to talk to him a couple times while he was dating Princess. In my opinion, he’s extremely passive aggressive, which isn’t compatible with the increasing level of confrontation we’re seeing from the stalker.”
“What comments did he make that you considered passive aggressive?” Diskant asked.
“He was too good at the art of a backhanded compliment. When I first spoke to him he claimed to appreciate Princess’ independence in one breath and undermined it in the next with, ‘not everyone can handle things on their own, like she tries to.’ There were less specific things too, but overall, he just had a way of taking an innocent sounding statement and giving it a whiff of contempt that set my teeth on edge.”
Diskant clicked his pen and tucked it in his jacket. “I’ve been mulling over the possibility of other suspects myself. The main problem with that theory is the phone call Yvette received last night. Have you considered that Aiden might be working with a partner?”
Zach raised his chin. “Do you have a line on a potential partner?”
“Not yet, but putting together the timeline of last night’s events, Aiden called Yvette before going to the park for his basketball game, prior to the hit-and-run attempt. The phone call where he asked if you were home might have been geared towards finding out the exact opposite. I think it’s just as likely that he was trying to find out if you weren’t at home.”
“If he put up a camera in the hallway and saw that no one was coming and going from your apartment, that might explain him contacting Yvette,” Jake said.
“Once he knew the apartment was unoccupied, he could have sent his partner to distract you with the hit-and-run. We reviewed the security tapes, and it seems that the driver veered away at the last second. I don’t think they were trying to kill you, just frighten and maim.”
You squeezed the pillow tight.
“Landon, have you finished profiling the suspect?” Zach asked.
“Male, 45 to 55, highly intelligent, strategic, with organized behavioral patterns. Some texts seem pre-scripted and sent on a schedule. There are three main patterns of delivery: rapid fire, cluster attacks with intentional pauses, and a steady trickle.”
Diskant nodded. “I noticed the intervals, and the scheduled messages. He probably has a full-time job that keeps him occupied from 9 to 5.”
Landon inclined his head. “Agreed. His writing style shows the marks of higher education, which makes me think he works in a white-collar occupation. It would also explain the need for regular hours. The occasions where he’s made contact - the nephew’s birthday party, in the park on Friday night, and then the incident yesterday - they all occurred in the evening.”
“Consistent with the profile,” Zach said.
“His emotional tone shows that he suppresses enormous amounts of rage. I’m inclined to think he can’t contain it all the time, which would’ve led to court-ordered therapy, probably on a non-voluntary basis.”
“What about the fact that he hasn’t identified himself in the texts?” Zach asked.
“That’s why I’m not ruling Aiden out yet,” Landon said. “The coyness allows him to feign innocence. He’s being secretive and not taking ownership of his actions. That fits Aiden to a tee. Factoring the technological aspect of the hidden camera Jake found in the hallway, there’s a strong possibility Aiden is involved in the stalking even if he isn’t the driving force behind it.”
You swallowed hard, disturbed by the description.
“Does the profile ring any bells?” Jake asked.
You shook your head and plucked at the upholstery of the pillow.
“My questions about the stalker’s identity began from the texts as well,” Diskant said. “These messages don’t read like they’re from a romantically obsessed stalker who’s trying to win back their victim’s affection.”
“The primary motivation behind the messages is clear,” Landon said.
Zach snorted. “Yeah. He’s trying to terrorize her.”
“The person writing the texts is an emotional sadist. They’re motivated by the enjoyment of the hunt and provoking a response.”
Diskant was nodding before Landon finished speaking. “The movie obsession in the subtext of his messages isn’t based around enjoying the adrenaline rush of fear, like a normal person would. He’s identifying with the antagonists, like Ghostface and Patrick Bateman.”
“And our current theory is that Aiden is involved with this person?” you asked, fingers clenching in the pillow’s stuffing.
“It’s one possibility,” Diskant said. “I spoke with Aiden’s father this morning. He mentioned he searched Aiden’s phone for evidence of the messages after you spoke with him. However, after going through his son’s phone, he realized it wasn’t the only device he’d seen Aiden using.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Ledoux reports Aiden has a second phone. He thought it was for work, but he’s seen it several times since Aiden was let go from his employer. His father’s theory is that he wasn’t using his personal device to send the texts.”
Jake leaned in. “Do you have a search warrant for the house yet?”
“We didn’t need one. Mr. LeDoux owns the house, all we needed was his permission. We searched his room from top to bottom and couldn’t find a second phone. A team is searching the rest of the house as we speak.”
“Why is Mr. LeDoux being so cooperative?” Zach asked. “Is it possible he might be Aiden’s partner?”
Your jaw dropped. For a second you were shocked, then horrified. “Mr. LeDoux is too old for the profile and I only met him one time. He has no reason to stalk me!”
Landon spoke. “I went through Aiden’s publicly available writings when I was analyzing the text messages and compared them. Because of his proximity to the case, I also reviewed Mr. LeDoux’s writing and I doubt either of them authored the messages. But given the information Yvette provided us with, I’m still concerned that Aiden has something to do with the harassment.”
“When do you plan to interrogate Aiden?” Zach asked.
“I’m not allowing you to speak with the subject,” Diskant said.
“Why not?” Landon demanded.
“You’re emotionally invested in the case - that’s a recipe for disaster.”
After Diskant left, Zach and Jake headed to the office, while Landon stayed behind as your minder. You retreated to your work station in the conservatory where you stared blankly at your laptop for a few minutes before laying your head down on the desk.
“Are you okay?” Landon’s voice cut through your misery.
You glanced back and saw him standing at the threshold between the kitchen and the conservatory, sunlight glinting off his dark brown hair.
“No. Would you be?”
“Nope.” He crossed to the table and pulled up a chair, swinging it around to straddle as he folded his arms over the backrest. “Tell me where your head’s at.”
“Zach and Lloyd might go into overprotective mode. The minute I realized I was being stalked, I was worried about Lloyd’s reaction. After watching Zach’s response to Diskant’s theory…” you shook your head.
“Zach’s incredibly loyal,” Landon said.
“That’s why I’m worried!”
“Jake and I will handle them, okay? Bishop already suggested locking Lloyd away before we fill him in. We could always shove Zach in too.”
“Got a dungeon?”
Landon snorted. “Not one that will hold them. Listen. This is temporary. The stalking can’t go on forever. It won’t go on forever.”
“If Lloyd and Zach have their way it will be over quickly and violently. The latter part worries me. I want this resolved but I don’t want them going to jail on my behalf. Just thinking about it makes me sick.”
Landon’s lips pursed. “Can you think of any reason, other than stalking you, for Aiden to want access to your apartment while you were away?”
“No. I have no clue.”
“If he planted the camera in the hallway, I’m inclined to think it was placed to make sure you weren’t home. It’s straight out of the intelligence handbook to ensure you’re in and out of a target’s home while they’re gone. Given that Aiden’s father was an FBI agent, he’d know that much about tradecraft.”
You rubbed your temple. “I don’t understand why he’d do this.”
“There were no weapons on him when he was arrested. I don’t buy him as your stalker, but the evidence points to his involvement.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Nothing adds up.”
Landon ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it from its carefully gelled style. “You’re right. And until we get more evidence, it probably won’t. What are you doing in the meantime?”
“Searching for missing persons reports.”
“Okay then. Shall we divide and conquer?”
The next few hours flew by, filled with research and notes. Daylight slipped away but your eyes remained focused on the screen without pause. You pulled up another report and a moment later, elbowed Landon.
“Hey. Look at this. Li Wei Chapman, age 23, vanished in 1999 from Virginia.”
Landon looked over your shoulder. “Her last known location was at a bible camp her family owned in Fredericksburg.”
“Is that too far away from Harmony?”
“It’s only forty minutes by car. The serial killer was most active closer to D.C., but that alone doesn’t exclude this victim. She disappeared on June 14th - right in the middle of his active period.”
“Look at the notes,” you said, scrolling down. “Her daughter, Zoe Chapman, also went missing on the same day. She was two years old.”
“If she was his first victim, he might have chosen a location he knew well. Maybe he spent time at the bible camp and was familiar with the terrain,” Landon said. “Fredericksburg has a lot of wooded areas that could be used for cover.”
“How do you know so much about the geography of Fredericksburg?” you asked.
“It’s on the way to Latimer’s hometown. We use his uncle’s farm for our team reunion every year. This is good. It’s the first mother-daughter abduction we’ve found that matches the details of our victim.”
“Wait. Marco Latimer? He’s from Virginia?”
Landon arched a brow. “Yeah. Why?”
“His accent. I couldn’t quite place it. Where’s he from?”
“Kilmarnock. His accent is Virginia Tidewater, but it’s stronger than most because he grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere.”
He re-focused his attention on the missing persons report and was about to say something when the doorbell rang. Your head snapped up.
“I’ll get it,” Landon said.
You trailed after him, but stayed out of sight as he opened the door. A woman in her mid-sixties with ash blonde hair worn in a blunt bob waited on the other side.
“Hello, I’m Judy Lange. I’m looking for Lloyd’s house sitter. Is she here?”
“Yeah.”
Landon motioned you forward. Mrs. Lange’s eyes glinted in recognition when she saw you.
“Here are the pool keys, for Mr. Hansen. I apologize for interrupting your evening, but I promised I’d have them back before he returned,” she said, handing them over.
“Thank you, I’ll make sure he gets them.”
“Excellent. And if you need anything, we’re just two doors down.”
You thanked her for the keys and when she was gone, placed the keys in the bowl on the foyer table. Realizing how late it was you checked the time and frowned.
“When does Lloyd’s flight land? Shouldn’t we have picked him up already?”
“He’s driving back,” Landon said.
“What?! All the way across the country?”
“He’s bringing back a car, at least that’s what Zach said.”
Your heart sank. You’d confessed your love, and now Lloyd was taking his sweet time returning.
“What’s wrong?” Landon asked.
“I told Lloyd I loved him last night.”
His eyebrows rose sharply. “Damn. That took guts. Lloyd’s the most emotionally repressed person I’ve ever met.”
You groaned and sank down on the couch, head in your hands.
“What was I thinking?!”
“Maybe your confession wasn’t such a bad thing,” Landon said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Lloyd is skittish about sharing his emotions, but under the right conditions he’s made progress before.”
You rubbed your neck. “I’m worried that he might never say it back. If this relationship keeps going, I’m going to need the words, but I don’t know if Lloyd is capable of saying them… ever.”
“I think the real question here is, how long are you willing to wait to hear him say it?”
“I don’t know. I love him, but I hate the way it feels to be left hanging like this. Either I get over myself and accept his limitations or… we break up.”
“Perhaps there’s a third option,” Landon said.
“What’s the third option?”
“Give it time. Lloyd is capable of changing. Don’t forget that.”
“What am I going to say to him when he comes home?” you asked, running a hand over your hair.
“I’d wait and see if he brings it up on his own. But remember - talking about his feelings is his most underdeveloped skillset. If you don’t remember that, you’re going to be hurt when he fumbles the pass.”
“I can handle fumbling. What I’m worried about is the possibility that he might never try.”
Landon gave you a crooked smile. “Give him a minute to work things out on his own. Lloyd makes his best progress when he can move at his own pace. He’ll test the waters before he dives in. That’s why I think your confession might be a good thing.”
You groaned. “It wasn’t a good thing. I humiliated myself.”
“Or you made him feel secure. Lloyd’s always taking one step forward and two steps back with emotional processing. If he knows where he stands with you, that might serve as an anchor. He’ll never be one for eloquent declarations of love, but a blind man could see how he treats you. I doubt the words will come easy, but he’ll find his voice when he’s ready.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It wouldn’t have been accurate to say that Lloyd spent the rest of the drive across the country chewing on the idea of reconnecting with his sisters. Rather, it was the idea that spent the rest of the drive chewing on him. Thoughts of Ingrid and Josie took center stage and refused to let him look away. By the time he was approaching the outskirts of Rockville, he was exhausted and sick of spinning through the same thoughts over and over.
By the time he parked the Mercury on the tree lined street outside of his townhouse complex, it was approaching midnight, and he felt like a zombie. His back ached and the bruise on his thigh from where Charlene kicked him throbbed. He felt every twinge of sore muscle from the explosion at Holbrook’s stash house as he unloaded his bags. When he stepped inside, the sight of Zach drinking whiskey on his living room sofa took him by surprise. It took a minute before his mind switched on and the details of the conversation on Sunday night came flooding back.
“Shit,” he hissed.
“How was the drive?”
“Miserable. I… stuff came up. I didn’t mean to take so long. How is she?”
Zach shrugged.
“I called Jake this morning, but he hung up on me, twice.” Lloyd crossed the living room and reached for the decanter of whiskey to pour himself a glass.
“Tell me what's going on,” he commanded.
Zach snorted. “Fuck, no. I’m not touching that subject with a ten-foot pole, that’s on Princess. But I’m glad you’re back. Shit’s gotten weird the last few days.”
“Explain.”
“You look like death warmed over, Lloyd. Go get some sleep. I’ll stay through tomorrow and then I’m clearing out so you and Princess can talk.”
He felt like death warmed over, too, which led him to climb the stairs without too much protest. Whatever you needed to share would probably go over better if he had a full night’s sleep before hearing it. Lloyd slipped silently into the bedroom and found you curled up on the far side of the bed. He stripped to his boxers and crawled in next to you.
When the mattress dipped, your lashes fluttered. For a moment, you opened your eyes, but they didn’t focus. He eased closer and you reached out to press a hand to his chest. Lloyd took that as a welcoming sign and closed the distance between you.
He pressed his lips to your forehead and whispered, “I’m home. I missed you.”
You blinked sleepily, trying to wake up, but failing to cast off the chains of slumber.
“Lloyd… home…” you slurred the words as you struggled to open your eyes.
“I’m here now,” he murmured, smoothing a hand down your back. You cuddled into his chest with a breathy sigh that made his heart skip a beat. He kissed your hair.
“I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“S’okay. Glad… you’re back…”
Lloyd smiled, squeezing you gently as the weight of his worries melted away. You were happy to see him and he was holding you again. Everything would work out. Whatever challenge was lurking around the corner could be dealt with in the morning. As long as he could bask in the feeling of holding the woman he loved for the night, he’d meet the trouble head-on tomorrow.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In the morning, you curled against Lloyd and watched him sleep, enjoying the peaceful expression on his face. You were happy he was home, but dread clawed at the pit of your stomach. The conversation you’d put off was hours away and his reaction loomed large. Sighing, you showered and dressed before making your way downstairs.
Zach was at the stove, stirring a pan of scrambled eggs.
“Morning Princess,” he said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You forced a smile in return and opened a cabinet to grab plates. As Zach finished cooking, you set two places at the breakfast bar. You ate in silence with the approaching conversation weighing heavily on your mind.
“So, have you decided what to say?”
“Kind of. I’m planning on starting with the reasons behind my decision before I tell him the details.”
“If he explodes, don’t take it too personally. He’s been known to say things in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean.”
“It’s the uncertainty about the stalker’s identity that I’m worried about explaining. This was bad enough when I thought I knew who was behind it. Not knowing makes it even harder.”
“I’m meeting with Mr. LeDoux this morning. He kept a log of Aiden’s comings and goings for the past week and he’s willing to share it with me.”
“That’s good.”
“We’ll sort this out, okay? As for Lloyd, just bite the bullet and get it over with. He’ll come around once he calms down,” Zach said, and patted your shoulder.
You tried to take comfort in his words when your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts. Annabeth’s name popped up on the caller ID. You answered on speaker phone.
“Hey Annabeth. I’m here with Zach Hightower. Did you find something?”
“I have good news: you were right. The unidentified victim isn’t Julia’s sister!”
“Really? What did you find out?”
“There was an error in the initial comparison, which probably came about because of insufficient reference material. Julia came from a semi-isolated community that’s lived on an island for generations, her DNA is harder to interpret. With a deeper analysis, it became clear that Julia and the unknown victim weren’t sisters - they’re actually third cousins.”
“So the error was on Julia’s sample?”
“It can be difficult to interpret the genetics of a person with Julia’s background,” Annabeth said. “While China recognizes the Miao as an official minority, there's limited representation of her ethnicity in genetic databases, which is why the crime lab made a mistake.”
“Do you have a match on the unknown victim?” you asked.
“Based on ancestry DNA, the unknown victim is Li Wei Chapman. She was adopted by Frida and Lyle Chapman from Taiwan in 1977 and lived in Fredericksburg, Virginia.”
“Thank you so much, Annabeth. This is a tremendous help.”
“Glad I could assist. I’ve emailed you the full genetic analysis, but it might take a minute to download. The file is huge.”
“I can drop it off this afternoon,” Zach said.
You downloaded and printed the reports for him, but once he was gone, the anxiety returned. To occupy yourself, you returned to the missing persons reports, pulling up everything on Li Wei Chapman. The breakthrough opened up a whole new realm of possibilities - you hardly knew where to begin. An hour ticked by and you were struggling to focus. Lloyd was still asleep. You felt trapped within the four walls of the house.
It was too quiet. You were bubbling with energy as your mind raced with thoughts of what to say when Lloyd woke up and the possibilities for the investigation now that the unknown victim was identified. You tried to busy yourself by cleaning the kitchen and re-organizing your paperwork, but anxiety was gnawing a hole in your stomach and the attempts to stay occupied only amplified the restlessness. As you paced around the house, your eyes landed on the keys to the pool. They were still on the foyer table where you’d put them last night.
Weighing the risk, you decided that the pool wasn’t too exposed. It was in a fenced enclosure behind the townhouses, which meant there’d be a row of three story tall brick buildings and a courtyard with an eight foot high wall between you and the nearest street. Locked gates prevented visitors from entering the recreational area behind the townhouses except by passing through a home. Plus, Lloyd’s back gate was only ten feet away from the pool enclosure.
You found your regular one-piece suit in the front pocket of your suitcase, which you’d stored in Lloyd’s laundry room. After changing, you took the keys and made your way through the backyard, closing the wrought iron gate behind you, and dove into the glistening blue water of the lap pool. The coolness enveloped you, washing away the smothering anxiety that had been simmering all morning. With each stroke down the length of the pool, you felt the stress falling away.
- - -
Hidden in the shadows, a figure watched you splash through the water.
He’d spent all weekend figuring out where you’d disappeared to. Finding you and Zach at the Emerald Harp on Sunday night had been an incredible stroke of luck. Since then, he’d been waiting for the ex-SEAL to leave so he could approach you alone. His heart pounded with anticipation as he watched, obscured by a neighbor’s arbor. The structure was overflowing with the thriving yellow blossoms of a Carolina Jessamine that offered sufficient cover from the security cameras.
He’d been planning this for months, even before he’d begun messaging you. He’d learned your routines and watched you, waiting for the opportunity to get close enough. Slipping the balaclava over his face he moved through the pool enclosure gate on silent feet, reveling in the rush of being so close to his ultimate goal.
You swam to the end of the pool, your back to him, unaware of the danger you were in. Wanting to prolong the thrill of being invisible, he stayed out of your line of vision as you swam toward the end of the pool. You reached the wall and surfaced with a gasp, treading water for a moment before reaching for the ladder. Unaware of him, you climbed out and collected your towel from a nearby chair. Adrenaline thrummed in his veins, pulsing through every capillary, and sharpening his senses. He bided his time and relied on the crepe soles of shoes to mask the sound of his footsteps as he drew closer.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lloyd woke up, feeling well-rested and content. Beside him your spot was empty, and the sheets were cool to the touch. He listened but didn’t hear anyone else moving around in the house. A glance at the clock showed it was past ten-thirty. It surprised him to have slept for so long. Usually he didn’t sleep more than six or seven hours in a single stretch. He showered and brushed his teeth before descending the stairs, looking forward to seeing you.
As his foot landed on the bottom step, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air.
Adrenaline surged, and without hesitation, he sprinted to the backyard, where the scream had originated. Another scream guided him towards the pool enclosure. He crossed the yard in four strides and didn’t bother opening the garden gate, just leapt over it and pivoted toward the pool enclosure, nearly losing his footing as the loose gravel shifted under his bare feet.
You were locked in a struggle with a masked figure who had you by the throat. The masked man looked up and saw Lloyd barreling towards him. He threw you down on the concrete and seized a handful of your hair, then shoved your head under the water.
Lloyd charged. He slammed into the assailant and they tumbled across the hot cement, exchanging a barrage of punches and kicks. The masked man was stronger and more competent a fighter than he’d expected. An elbow to the jaw sent Lloyd’s head snapping back, and he cracked the crown of his head on cement. For a second his grip slackened, and the intruder broke free. Lloyd was on his feet in an instant, ready to chase after him, when he saw you unconscious on the ground.
The intruder was already disappearing around the corner into the courtyard. Lloyd knelt and pressed his fingers to your throat, feeling for a pulse. Your skin was ashen and your breathing shallow. Kneeling down, he cradled your head to his chest and stroked your cheek.
“Princess? Wake up… come on, honey…”
You didn’t stir. His hands trembled as he found his phone in the pocket of his chinos and dialed for an ambulance.
- - -
He paced in the waiting area, bubbling with tension as the doctors took their sweet time scanning you in radiology, where he hadn’t been allowed to follow. The door opened, and he spun around.
“What happened?” Zach asked.
“Someone tried to drown her in the swimming pool. I got there just in time.”
“You look like you need a bandaid yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Lloyd said.
“Princess?”
“A concussion for sure, they’re scanning for other injuries now.”
Worry lined Zach’s face. He crossed his arms and before Lloyd could question him further, the waiting room door opened again to admit Jake and Landon.
“What happened?” Jake demanded.
Lloyd gave him the run down and noted that Landon didn’t seem as surprised by the description of events.
“I stopped by your place and spoke to Mrs. Lange,” the dark haired man said. “She gave me a copy of the security tapes from the pool complex. I haven’t had the chance to look at it yet.”
Jake was already pulling out his laptop. They huddled around the screen and watched as the technical specialist reviewed the footage. The assailant had done a good job of avoiding being captured on his way in, but the frames taken after his fight with Lloyd showed clear images of him fleeing through the courtyard.
“Let me try this,” Jake muttered.
His fingers flew over the keys as he applied measurements to various objects in the footage, giving the software a frame of reference. The program calculated and analyzed for a minute as he isolated the figure of the assailant.
Jake read the result and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Shit.”
“What?” Lloyd growled.
“The attacker is only 5 '9, which means Aiden is six inches taller than the man who attacked Princess. It’s possible to make yourself taller, but six inches shorter? There’s no way he’s the assailant. We’ve been looking at the wrong guy all along.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Next - Part XIX
Behind the Scenes: Lloyd’s post-chapter reaction
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Masterlist
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
@denisemarieangelina
@before-we-get-started
@buckysteveloki-me
@patzammit
@badassbaker
@meetmeatyourworst
@whiskeytangofoxtrot555
@thiskindahotkindamusic
@jesgisborne
@charmingprinces
@amiets2
@seitmai
@elle14-blog1
@chaoticsteverogers
@kaleidoscopepov
@fangirl-and-doctor-help
@terry2227
@jesevans
@openup-yourmind
@kandierteveilchen
@adoreyouusugar
@awkwardgiraffe726
@pono-pura-vida
@mysweetlittledesire
@liecastillo
@marantha
@literaturelove
@babyevansblog
@lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa
@thegirlnextdoorssister
@ladygrey03
@cynic-spirit
@rosedpetal
@jeremyrennermakesmesmile
@bambamwolf87
@yiiiikesmish
@calwitch
@peachiestevie
@texmexdarling
@here4thefanfics
@rogersbarber
@spikeluv84
@dear-fifi
@crayongirl-linz
@bigcreatorwombatdreamer
129 notes
·
View notes