Prologue

FBI Special Agent Foster watched as the passengers disembarked. He and his fellow agents were waiting for one specific individual, Ginny B, my former college girl friend, tormentor, and serial killer. (I will refer to her through out this story as Ginny B, out of respect for her family.) She had been the subject of an eight month investigation. And now Agent Foster and his team were moments away from making the arrest that was the culmination of that investigation.

Why was I there? I was the one who originally suspected what she had done and brought it to the FBI’s attention. Me, I am James Whitcomb Mercer IV also known as James Mercer to my friends and work colleagues. I was there for closure. Ginny B came across as this beautiful, sweet college coed. The one straight college aged males hoped to find. The beautiful, personable college coed that was just too good to be true.

In truth, Ginny B was a narcissistic psychopath, who used her good looks and charm to her advantage. Everything she did was a calculated move for her.

Along with her narcissistic personality she was quite capable of jealousy and rage. I know I was the subject of it several times. When she was in a rage her body released huge amounts of adrenaline giving her surprisingly great strength capable of some incredible feats. I had a difficult time getting anyone to believe me at the time.

I became the subject of her obsession. She was always reminding me that I belonged to her and she would do what ever had to be done to make it so. At social functions if another female would approach me, she would let them know I was hers and she didn’t share. Several times I recall she was on the verge of starting a cat fight and I had to quickly defuse the situation.

If I had to sum up Ginny B, it would be she was narcissistic, jealous, full of rage, capable of almost anything psychopath. She would kill if needed and the next moment appear to be caring and loving. And I was hers as she repeatedly told me.

I watched the stream of the passengers coming through the gate. Then I spotted her and gave Agent Foster the pre-agreed hand wave. He gave the signal and the arrest team swarmed around her and pressed her against the wall. It was over in less than 10 seconds. They had her restrained and in handcuffs before I think she realized what was happening. She stood there emotionless while an agent read her her rights and what she was charged with. As they led her out her eyes fell upon me. They were lifeless and cold like there was no soul behind them. It gave me the shivers, goose bumps were popping up on my arms. I was just glad it was finally over. The people she murdered would finally get their justice.

Agent Foster came over after securing her luggage. We started walking towards the main concourse. I wanted be out of there as quickly as possible. People were staring, surprised seeing what had just went down. It’s not every day you see an FBI arrest team in action.

As we were walking towards the exit out of the terminal I reflected on the last eight months. I helped bring a killer to justice. I got to see how the FBI operates. I got to use some cool toys that I wouldn’t have other wise. Plus I gained a true friend, one of the good guys, Special Agent Lawrence Foster of the FBI.

“How did you meet up with this nut job in the first place, James?” he quizzed.

“Well, Agent Foster it was like this. Back in college I was a junior and she was a freshman. I needed a date for a fraternity formal.”