Once I got to Canada, I went to the airport's bathroom and started practicing an ambiguous european accent in the mirror.
"I am Cezar MArkovic. I am Cezar MarkOvic. I am Cezar MarkovIc. No, too italian." I repeated. "I am Cezar Markovic. All one word. Yeah, that sounds just right. I am Cezar Markovic. Be afraid, very afraid."
Agent Tindall's POV
Canada. It just had to be Canada. I knew it.
There was a broadcast on the national news talking about the serial killer and how families should be very wary of this young soloist who could move to their town. Then there was a very shaken police officer around an airport being interviewed who said that he might have seen some shady people boarding a plane. He couldn't say for sure, but I knew that this was the best thing to happen to me. This was our big lead. I called my Senior Agent and got permission to board the next flight to Montreal. I couldn't believe it, I was going to catch this son of a bitch! The next call was to the Canadian branch of Interpol, didn't want any Monty's to get offended with an American agent on their soil. Although they don't have much to complain about, we still have Justin Bieber, platinum blonde and all. What does he think he is? A barbie?
"Hello, this is International Agent Victor how may I help you?" a female voice cut through the line. Victor, maybe short for Victoria?
"Hi, yes this is Special Agent Tindall, FBI, I'm calling about the sightings of a serial killer? My lead ran cold and I'm still searching for him."
"Oh, yes your supervisor just called, I'll be your partner, if that's alright?"
"Of course. I should be in Montreal in a few hours."
"I'll see you then."
Mrs. Warren's POV
The day of the funeral cast a heavy weight on my chest. My baby girl was dead- brutally murdered and left in the middle of the park surrounding Lake Claire. My black dress didn't feel right, and I imagined Lizzy behind me making faces in the mirror, and trying to get me to smile. Fresh tears welled in my already red, swollen eyes I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my face, my make up already smearing. I didn't bother to fix it, I thought that Lizzy wouldn't have cared. Truly, I didn't care that Ray had molested her. I didn't care who the killer really was or where he was or whether he was dead or alive. I just wanted Lizzy back. I wanted her so much. And then, something clicked.
I dashed upstairs to Lizzy's room that I had tidied for the last time just an hour before and picked up the silvery blue iphone that I had found. I remembered that Lizzy doesn't have a silvery blue iphone. She has a blackberry. I knew that this was Zak's from the moment it lit up. I just couldn't figure out why he would be so careless with it? It didn't even have a lock. I looked through the data, seeing nothing special until I opened Notes.
"Dear whomever finds this,
Please return this phone to Nathan Cross, 7 Pistachio Ave, Four Corners."