Tracking Evil, a Podcast Pt. 01

"That's it, I'm done. Fucking madness. Stupid angry fucking dog." Erica babbled, shaken by Bear's continued snarls and barks. "Just give me the dates and times, I don't care, fucking dog...shut up!"

Tiny heaved himself up, waving a hand at the dog in irritation but it kept on barking.

"Hey you really gonna leave me hanging like this? Gonna get me a case of fuckin' blue balls." he complained to Erica.

"Whatever, just keep to the deal, I'm done." Erica bent to scoop her panties from the floor but before her fingers could touch the purple material a sharp yelp from Bear had her straightening up empty handed.

"Fine, go sit yo ass over there." Tiny pointed at the bed, "I'ma gonna tie this bastard up then I'll take care of you like I said, k?"

Erica walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge while Tiny hunted around for the leash. Finding it, he tied the rottweiler to a hook set in the far wall. Then he walked back over to where Erica waited.

"Thanks" she said, Tiny nodded and then he reached out serpent quick, hands seizing her behind her knees, lifting so that she fell back onto the bed.

"Wait... what the fuck, what the fuck are you doooo... ooh" Erica's protests were cut short as Tiny dropped heavily to his knees, a thick finger shot forward, moving like a harpoon to spear deep into her pussy.

"Takin' care of you, dats whats up." he said, then he lowered his head, mouth meeting her pussy noisily.

Tiny had skills. His tongue licked against her labia, teasing past the folds of skin before moving upwards. He savoured the length of her opening, bottom to top, top to bottom, his tongue in constant motion, up and down, side to side and randomly pushing forward, inside her. His mouth began its upward journey once more, it's seventh or eighth trip, Erica couldn't be sure. Her arms were outstretched on the bed, posed crucifixion style, fingers gripping wads of bed sheet as she luxuriated in the pleasure. This time he strayed further up, tongue curling and cupping against her clit. Her legs were over his heavy shoulders and she felt her heels rapping against his back as her body spasmed in response to his oral talents.

"Oh, oh, oh, Jesus, Jesus you are good!" Erica panted. She dropped a hand to his head in encouragement. "Keep going, keep doing that, I'm getting close."

Had Erica been in a position to see his face, she couldn't have missed the calculating look that suffused his features. Instead of continuing to eat her out, Tiny broke away, Erica's hips plaintively bucking as he levered himself up onto his feet.

"Nooo, shit, shit, I was so close!" she whined.

He hoisted her further up the bed, climbing up after her, on his knees between her pale white legs. Erica craned her neck forward, Tiny had his big black cock in his hand, its length hovering over her taut stomach, her legs now pointed straight up, soles of her feet towards the basements ceiling. He brought it down, resting the underside of his shaft against her clit, his hips moved slightly back and forth, dragging his hard shaft across her sensitive flesh.

"Hey, this wasn't part of the deal." she said wishing she didn't sound so breathless as she did so.

"You know you wants it. Fuckin pussy is drippin' for a cock. Tell me you ain't craving some blackness inside you, cause if'n you do den you fuckin' lyin' to yoself girl."

"Bastard, you fucking pig bastard." Erica cursed half-heartedly, "okay just put a condom on."

Tiny shifted, running the fat cock head across her pussy lips, pushing forward so that it then reared up, sliding back over her clit, back into Erica's line of sight.

"Ain't got none, didn't figure on a fine bitch come lookin' for my cock today. I'ma just put it in for a spell, pull out when its time to nut." As he said it, he teased the head against her pussy once more, this time pushing the tip fractionally inside, holding it there, hips cocked and loaded, ready for action. "Just say the words girl, say it an' Ima makes it happen." he said, his wheedling tone, the fat black cock, all chipping at Erica's resolve.

"Fuck me." she breathed.

He pulled the trigger, hips moving forward in one rapid movement, pushing with all his weight, his thick shaft squeezing into her tight white pussy till almost half his length disappeared into her hot wet hole. Sluggishly, her pussy seeking to keep him inside her, he pulled back a few inches before feeding his black cock back inside. Tiny continued this sedate pace for a full minute, Erica's body responding to his long broad shaft, her pussy adjusting to accommodate it.

Erica was back to the point when he'd stopped licking her clit. Her body thrummed with the building pleasure. She gave a low grunt of discomfort when he passed the seven-inch point, the heavy gut from his obese frame slapping against her trim belly. Tiny braced himself against the mattress, huge arms to either side of her. His hips started moving in a staccato rhythm, a long deep stroke, two fast shallow ones, another long deep thrust. On the second repetition Erica came for the first time. It just broke without warning as his black cock shoved to its deepest point so far. Hr pussy just twitched and then it spasmed crazily, the orgasm speeding through her, making her cry out.

"Fuck! Yes, ugggh, ugh, uh, uh, uh, urrgh!" she yelled. Bear adding his own soundtrack from the far side of the basement. The music from the speakers had changed, she'd barely registered it but now as she came hard, she could feel the heavy bass, hear the lurid lyrics of some unrecognised rapper.

Tiny continued to pound her as she orgasmed. One, one-two, One, One, one-two, One. Steady, deep, hard. A fucking motion with a goal, to get her opened up. A deep thrust into new territory inside her pussy, two shallow thrusts to adjust to the fit, a deep thrust to solidify the gain.

"Ugggh!" A deep thrust.

"Uh, uh." Two shallow thrusts.

"Urrgh!" Another deep thrust.

Erica enjoyed sex. She had always had sex with her boyfriends. Never at first in the relationship, but within the first month she'd have sex with them. She'd viewed sex as another rung on a relationship ladder. Not a goal in itself, just a box to be checked. She didn't think less of those who had sex on first dates or who sought a drunken encounter after a night in a bar or a club. She just didn't seek it herself. She'd always found more pleasure in the aesthetic rather than the physical. This stranger, with his big black cock, he was making a convincing argument in the 'pleasure for pleasures sake' debate.

He pushed her legs down, hands gripping behind her knees till she was fully opened, thighs almost touching the mattress beneath her. He had plumbed her depths, now he began fucking her quickly. Shallow fast punches with his engorged cock to her greedy soaked white pussy. His stomach rippled from the rapid motion. Erica could hear it slapping against her body, damp with sweat.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh." she had no control over the sounds from her mouth, they were a vent to the pleasure. A second orgasm came, so intense she thought she might suffocate as her lungs seemed to seize up. Her mouth opening and closing soundlessly, a pale white fish landed by a big black fishing pole.

She could see it now; Tiny's face was a mask of control as he tried to hold off his own orgasm. His features rigid as he tried to give himself more time inside her. Erica slapped an open hand against his chest, repeating the motion when she failed to get his attention. He looked down at her nonplussed, face running with perspiration.

"Don't uh, uh, come inside uh, uh, me." she pleaded. He nodded but still continued to hammer away. Erica came for a third time, as her body basked in the pleasure of firecrackers exploding through her nervous system, she had the mad desire to let him finish inside her regardless.

Tiny had more sense though, thankfully, as a few moments later he moved as quickly as his size would allow. He pulled his cock out completely, her pussy gaping from its assault, and then he waddled up the bed. His big hand lifted her head from the mattress and his cock disappeared inside her mouth. Erica suckled on it for a brief instant before she was rewarded by it trembling against her tongue, his cum erupting to coat the inside of her mouth. Given a choice, Erica would have spat the thick gloop out, but the size of his black cock stretching her lips and his grip on her head meant that she ended up swallowing most of the sperm save the trickle that escaped the corner of the mouth.

It wasn't bad tasting, she milked his cock a few times, pulling a hand along its length. Tiny released her and she coughed as the cock left mouth. Erica rolled to her side, facing the door to the basement, she needed time to collect her thoughts after all that sensation and surprise. She had gone a hell of a lot further than she'd planned but it had been worth it in every sense. After a couple of minutes, she rolled back over to face Tiny.

"Let's hear this wisdom then." she said.

Episode Three: What are friends for

It was dark outside when Erica climbed into the cab. Tiny had been as good as his word. She had dates and locations for all three instances when the graffiti had shown up. Not only that he'd been able to give her a time window of one week for one site and three days for the other two when the graffiti might have been painted. If she could link murders in those area to those dates... things would get exciting.

Added to all this his 'out of state' wisdom was also very useful. The three instances in Washington DC had all occurred last year and he didn't have any knowledge of any newer sightings. However, he could confirm a rough date on graffiti in Camden New Jersey, where Lisa Bryerson had died as occurring the year before. That seemed right to Erica although she'd have to check her notes back in the hotel to be sure.

She had given him an idea of what she was looking for and now, post sex, and given the intrigue he seemed more disposed to be of help. Tiny promised he'd reach out to his network of fellow 'street art' aficionados around the East Coast to see if anyone could be of help. She left him with her email as a way to keep in touch.

As he opened the front door to let her out, her cab idling at the sidewalk, his three friends stood at the railing.

"Da fuck Tiny? You gone helpin' out this bitch? Thought you said you weren't gonna help the cops?" one of them yelled antagonistically. The three of them threw looks of disgust at Tiny.

'Always show your appreciation to a source', her father's advice.

Erica stood up on tip toe, she gave Tiny a long, lingering and passionate kiss on the mouth. The catcalls from his friends dwindled to silence. She stroked a hand across his crotch.

"Thanks baby, that big cock was exactly what I needed."

She passed the three youths, mouths agape, and climbed into the cab.

By the time she got back into her hotel room, all Erica wanted was a long shower followed by a good night's sleep. She dropped her notebook and the folder with the photo down beside her laptop and headed to the bathroom to do just that.

In the morning, refreshed, she contacted Sergeant Hollis. Erica didn't mention that she had returned to see Tiny after leaving the precinct. Instead, she asked if the sergeant could tell her if there had been any criminal activities at the two new locations that she'd been given the night before in and around the dates also provided to her. Hollis said he'd get back to her in a few minutes.

Good as his word, her cell phone rang not five minutes later. Hollis began by thanking Erica once again for her thoughtful gifts for his family and began apologising again for how the previous day hadn't gone as planned. Erica cut him off politely, telling him he had been so helpful and he wasn't to worry at all, she appreciated everything he'd done. He sounded relieved and then began passing on what he'd discovered to Erica.

Once she'd hung up on Sergeant Hollis, Erica began comparing this new information against the information that Tiny had provided.

Kyle Robbins, Washington DC, African American male, forty-two years old. Shot in his bedroom April 18th 2019 - Time for graffiti, between April 16th and April 23rd.

Caleb Freeman, Washington DC, African American male, thirty-three years old. Shot in alleyway May 22nd 2019 - Time for graffiti, between May 21st and May 24th.

Linda Hogan, Washington DC, Caucasian female, twenty-two years old. Overdose in her apartment July 2nd 2019 - Time for graffiti, between July 1st and July 4th.

She also had the dates for the graffiti in Camden, New Jersey.

Lisa Bryerson, New Jersey, Caucasian female, nineteen years old. Stabbed to death in the street November 5th 2018 - Time for graffiti, between October 2nd and November 22nd 2018.

Finally, she wrote up the last two suspected victims' details.

Leon Monroe, North Carolina, African American male, twenty-seven years old. Knocked down in the street, run over repeatedly August 10th 2018 - Time for graffiti - Unknown

Jennifer Sands, Connecticut, Caucasian female, thirty-one years old. Deliberately thrown from her apartment window January 14th 2018 - Time for graffiti - Unknown

Erica looked at what she'd typed up. Even missing the dates for the last 2 entries she could see something of a pattern.

Six victims, three were black males, three were white females. So that much held true. For four of six victims the graffiti appeared in the same month. That pushed coincidence out the window then. The message BILLIII was too obscure for it to come down to chance.

The problem now was motive, what tied these six people together, what commonality did they all share? Was it chance, did the killer know them all personally? Was Jennifer Sands the first victim? Was Kyle Robbins the last?

To answer at least some of these questions Erica was going to need to do some more digging. Tiny had already come through for her and if she was being honest, he was probably going to be her best shot at finding more instances of graffiti as she'd already looked at a lot of different crime scene pictures without spotting any more occurrences. Furthermore, Linda Hogan had been classified as an accidental death, an overdose. How many other possible murders had actually been written up as such or maybe suicides?

No, Erica resolved to let Tiny do the legwork on finding more data points. It was down to Erica to try to draw a link between the victims she already knew of. To do that, she'd need to start talking to people.

According to Sergeant Hollis and what she could dig up online, Linda Hogan had been a bit of a loner. Orphaned at an early age, with no extended family willing to take her on, she had gone into the system. She'd bounced between foster homes until she reached her majority. An unhappy girl who had apparently grown into an unhappy young woman. A call to her apartment discovered it to have been a low-cost rental, the building manager unable to remember the woman's name much less any personal details.

Caleb Freeman seemed to be an equally hopeless case. The DCPD had no address or next of kin listed for him. Nobody had attended the funeral and she could find almost no online footprint for him.

Kyle Robbins at least seemed promising, from a follow up point of view. She had already obtained his last known address and she also had a listing for the accounting firm he worked for. That decided things for her. Today she'd do some legwork and dig into his life a bit, try to paint a picture of the person to go with the name.

Initially she suffered a setback, the accountancy firm turned out to have been a PO box that Kyle Robbins had rented himself. It seems he was running a one-man accountancy practice for small businesses in the area. Erica didn't let the fact that there were no co-workers for her to interview bring her down. Instead, she headed to his apartment, the place where he had been killed.

The building manager seemed reluctant to talk about the murder, and flat out refused Erica access to the apartment as it was already leased out. Erica had a suspicion that its current occupants had no idea what fate had befallen the previous tenant. She headed up to the third floor of the building, at the very least she'd get a picture of the hallway and the door to the apartment. She took pictures of both and then, bereft of any other ideas, she knocked on the door opposite.

Erica had worn her pant suit again, thankfully it hadn't been stained from her tussle the night before. Lacking Press credentials, she hoped that a smartly dressed young woman, notepad in hand, would manage to breeze past any awkward questions like 'who do you work for?'

A middle-aged woman, she appeared to be of Italian or Greek extract, answered the door. Her initial scowl was quickly replaced by an eager smile and an invitation for Erica to come into the apartment to talk. Erica had lucked out; she'd found the building's resident gossip.

Mrs Kafatos, she'd patiently spelled out her name for Erica, was only too happy to tell Erica everything she knew about poor Mr Robbins. Unfortunately, she had been visiting with her sister the night of the actual murder but Erica had already seen the report stating that no neighbours had heard the shot that killed Kyle Robbins so she wasn't surprised or disappointed to hear that. The talkative neighbour did give a decent overview of the victim. Of course, there was the usual, 'such a nice man' comments that everyone trots out when speaking of the deceased. There was some new information though as well. He had been divorced for a number of years with two children from the marriage, 'those poor sweet angels' as Mrs Kafatos described them. Kyle Robbins had worked from home so was mostly to be found there, he hadn't been a drinker or a smoker, no drugs, and he hadn't expressed any strong feelings politically or from a sports fans perspective, or at least never within Mrs Kafatos's keen hearing.

Basically, he'd been an everyman, nothing jumping out to target him for a serial killer. Nothing Erica could see anyway. Then Mrs Kafatos, while trying to push her nephew's number onto Erica, dropped a piece of gold.

"You should meet with Nikos, wonderful boy, great dancer. So much potential! I tried to get that poor lady on the fourth floor, Elena, to meet with him. But she's been badly shaken since the murder, fragile soul I think." Mrs Kafatos waved a scrap of paper with a phone number at Erica.

"That's awful to hear about Elena, did she know Mr Robbins well?" Erica plucked the piece of paper from the outstretched hands, not having any intention of ever calling it.

"Well, not well... hard to say. All I know is that for weeks, months even, I pass her in the hallway and her eyes are red, skin puffy. I told her, it's not good for someone with fair skin like hers to treat it this way. Does she listen? Of course not."

Eventually Erica managed to free herself from the octopus tentacles of Mrs Kafatos and she headed up to the fourth floor. She tapped politely on the door and a young woman answered. She was pretty in a hard sort of way, possessing eyes that had seen too much in a face that was tight with disappointment. When Erica introduced herself as a reporter, she'd almost had the door slammed in her face, only her foot casually poking into the doorway had prevented it.

It had taken awhile, a lot of cajoling and all her skills of persuasion before Elena Hatmanu had relented enough to give her a few sparse facts.

Yes, she had known Kyle Robbins.

No, she had no idea who might have intended him harm.

Erica then had taken a leap, asking Elena exactly how well she had known the late Kyle Robbins. The slightly older woman had attempted to shrug off the question but something in her expression gave away her true feelings, grief was etched in there. Erica had pressed her and finally Elena had admitted, only if it did not become public as, 'his family have suffered enough, his children had enough confusion in their lives without knowledge of me adding to it'. They had been seeing each other discreetly for a couple of months, not wanting it to go public until they were sure of their feelings as he'd been protective about his kids.