QR Code Murders: Invest

The feeling of control remained in Kim’s grasp. The elevation of adrenaline pushed her to take over the situation. Yawquisha kept the advanced camera steady and continued to look at the monitor related to the tiny camera.

As the sirenless cavalcade of cop cars descended upon the tattoo parlor, Tall K remained together. In his mind, he weighed the entire circumstances. What he knew was a slicing feeling into his spirit. It was like a dagger slowly tearing into his consciousness. The stinging pain of trying to keep cool under the pressure of a killer sitting in his chair perturbed him.

It felt like years before the cars slowly and methodically crept up to the studio. They wanted everyone to come out of this alive. No OK Corral shootouts, no going out in a blaze of glory. They shunned the clichés. This was surgery, not a hammer driving a nail.

Tall K said, “So you think you’ll fill up both arms with these names?”

“That’s up to you. If you’ve got space, do so. If not….”

“Understood.” It was the first time Tall K exhaled in thirty seconds. Kim stood at the front of the door with her service pistol drawn. She signaled for the uniforms now in SWAT gear pushed forward to knock down the door.

“Police! Police! Stay where you are!” Sergeant Hopper shouted at Parton. The murderer’s eyes never left Tall K. He grinned looking at the tattoo artist.

“This isn’t over Kelvin. I see why you got out so early.” He said all of this while the steel bracelets of justice closed around his wrists.

Kim was the arresting detective. She escorted him out of the tattoo parlor. Yawquisha shut off the video to Tall K’s tiny camera. The SWAT team put a bulletproof vest on him and escorted Tall K out of the building as well. They retrieved the wireless equipment.

Parton paced in his cell. He was jittery and calm at the same time. He sat on his cot and remained there and then jumped up when Kim came by him.

“Your bail was denied. You have a single phone call. Enjoy your moldy bologna and jelly sandwich. I wouldn’t drink the flavored water. And it’s not for the reasons that you’re thinking.”

“Okay. Okay.” That was all that Parton could summon up from his consciousness, the conversational equivalent of a gorilla’s grunts.

Kim smirked and walked away from him. She gathered all of the intelligence they had gathered that day and the previous days. She poured over the files from Parton’s prior arrests stretching back to his teenage years. He was now thirty-two and looking at multiple counts of homicide.

Kim focused while Yawquisha did the same just with the recording device in her hands.

“Jergensen!” Captain Framingingham called.

“Yes, sir,” Kim replied.

“That was excellent police work out there. We’re going to put that son of a bitch away for a thousand years. This will reflect well in your profile. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Kim felt a tug of relief and it evolved into a sense of lightness. It was the fact that filth had been taken off the streets and she was responsible for it. It was like wings had grown and her mind started to flap with great intensity allowing her to soar higher and higher.

She had to come down for water though. That water was tough to drink. It was the water of the interview with Patton. She knew that his lawyer would be of the highest order.

She was Franca Slocum. She had auburn hair that hid part of her face and stretched down her back. Her teeth were straight but slightly brownish-yellow due to smoking.

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