[Solo Thread for Phase RPG] The Investigation of the Real Estate Agent

Who: Dexter Morgan
Where: Miami, Randy MacGregor’s boat
When: Sometime in July, 2007 in his time line; days after the late afternoon he spent with Ashitaka
Summary: He’s very determined to find out exactly what MacGregor, the real estate agent in question, does with the little boys that go missing. In attempting to think like him, Dexter the Dark Avenger has a hunch that the pedophile liked to explore and experiment with the poor children out on the water.
Warning(s): Contains some adult content, since MacGregor is by no means somebody you’d let him to watch over ANY children. Also, there could be morbid witticism from Dexter’s mindset.

Randy MacGregor, apart from being lethally fond of little boys ages five through seven, has been divorced and lived alone in a small concrete block of a house out on Old Cutler Road, South Miami. He kept a twenty-six feet long cabin cruiser in which was located close by his house. Dexter fathomed and assumed the leftovers were dumped into the Gulf Stream, a nearly bottomless pit. Such an ideal spot made him think, Now why hadn’t I thought of that?

To know for sure, it would come to having to inspect MacGregor’s boat, very thoroughly.

July 20th, 2007; it was a rainy day. Most people would not be out and about, especially not on the water. Dexter left the forensics lab early to drive over to Old Cutler Road. He knew about the guard booth at Matheson Hammock Marina, and decided to avoid being seen there.

On the left-hand side of the road he was on, there was a small parking lot to an old corral picnic shelter. Dexter parked his gray Volvo there, and slipped into his yellow foul-weather jacket. He felt it very fitting while wearing it to break into a homicidal pedophile’s pleasure boat. From there he left the car to take the bicycle path on foot. Dexter was certain that the guard at the booth wouldn’t stick his head out into the rain. All that would go by his mind was a very determined runner trying to get his daily exercise out of the way.

After jogging a quarter of a mile to a large parking lot by the Marina, Dexter noticed the last of the rows of docks had smaller boats than the toys of big sports fishermen and millionaires. Near the end was MacGregor’s twenty-six footer, the Osprey. The name was painted on the side, in the upper middle portion.

He went through the gate of the chain-linked fence past a sign; “ONLY BOAT OWNERS PERMITTED ON DOCKS.” Upon reading it, Dexter was trying not to feel guilty about violating that rule as that went beyond his circulation of thoughts and actions. Just below the sign was another one. “NO FISHING OFF DOCKS OR IN MARINA AREA.” From there, he promised to avoid fishing at all costs.

By just looking at the Osprey, it had to be at least five or six years old, but showed few signs of wear from Floridian weather. The deck and railings were scrubbed clean, so he had to be careful not to leave any scuffmarks as he climbed aboard. Locks on boats were never complicated. Perhaps sailors were more honest than land lovers? Nonetheless, it took Dexter a few seconds to pick the lock.

The cabin didn’t have the musty smell of mildew that many boats had from being used at a minimum of a few hours. Dexter owned a boat of his own, so he more or less felt comfortable here. A faint scent of Pine-Sol was in the air—for the boat had been thoroughly scrubbed.

Inside, there was a small table, a galley, and one of those TV/VCRs on a railed shelf, with a stack of cassette movies; Spider-Man, Brother Bear, Finding Nemo, and Monsters Inc. Dexter could only wonder how many boys MacGregor had sent to find Nemo, or if he was subliminally trying to tell his little passengers their near-future fates. MacGregor had better hope Nemo or Mike and Sully would find him before Dexter.

Moving on, he stepped into the galley area. In the drawers Dexter found were candy, plastic action figures, and lots of rolls of duct tape. Duct tape he knew was very useful, for he had used it plenty of times before, but thought having over ten rolls was a bit excessive... Unless anyone had a specific purpose of having to use a great deal of it, Dexter couldn’t get it.

The Passenger flicked its dry reptilian tongue in anticipation.

Dexter went downstairs into a small forward area MacGregor probably called the stateroom. The bed in there wasn’t very elegant looking—just a rubber-foam pad on a raised shelf. There were four ringed bolts screwed into the shelf. He touched the mattress, and it crackled under the fabric. The hatch beneath the mattress was lifted open. He thought of it as reasonable to find some chain in there, but the handcuffs didn’t strike him as a nautical sort of thing at all. Maybe it was used on some quarrelsome fish?

Under the chain, Dexter saw five anchors. In his experience as a boat person, he knew that many anchors might be very good for a yacht. This was a bit much for a small weekend boat. If Dexter was taking his cruiser into deep water with small bodies inside, he’d wish to dispose of them cleanly and completely. (Luckily for all the children in the world, he would never, ever want to harm them. …Poor Jeremie might or might not ever know that for certain—wait, no, Dexter shouldn’t be even thinking about him at a time like this.) Dexter then figured that maybe after an outing with a little friend, MacGregor would come back with one less anchor.

All the little details Dexter gathered told him an interesting picture; still life without kids. So far not a thing could be explained as a massive coincidence. He needed to be sure and have one overwhelmingly conclusive piece of evidence to satisfy Harry’s Code.

He found it in a drawer to the right of the single bunk bed. Three small drawers were built into the bulk of the boat. The interior of the bottom one was a few inches shorter than the other two, supposedly shorter by the curve of the boat. In his study and knowledge of humans for many years, Dexter had a strong belief that this drawer would be at least a little suspicious to anyone else. He pulled it all the way out and discovered a secret compartment.

Since he knew and felt he was not a real human being, his emotional responses were generally limited to what he’s learned to fake. There was no shock, anger, outrage, or even some bitter resolve that Dexter truly felt. Then again, there was no audience around, so why should he even bother trying to act such emotions out? The only real thing Dexter felt was a chill, a cold wind sent up his spine by the Dark Passenger to blow dry the leaves over the floor of his brain.

At least five different naked little boys were seen in a stack of photographs, arranged in varied poses as if Dexter’s prey was still searching for a defining style. Yes indeed, MacGregor was really a spendthrift with his duct tape. In one photo, one boy looked like he was in a silver gray cocoon, with certain areas exposed. As Dexter suspected, MacGregor was definitely not the kind of man most parents would see as an ideal role model, or babysitter.

The photos were in good quality and taken from several different angles. One series in particular stood out; a pale flabby man in a black hood beside the tightly taped boy, a trophy shot. The shape and coloring of the portly form made him quite sure the guy was MacGregor, even though the hood covered his face.

This brought two different thoughts to mind—“Aha! He’s the Grand Prize Winner in the Passenger’s clearing house sweepstakes,” and “Who was taking the pictures?”

Ah, MacGregor had an accomplice in which sounded so Crime TV, but there it was. Too many angles in the photographs were taken, and not in a way for the camera to take them automatically. So, Dexter flipped through them again to find the pointy toe of what resembled a red cowboy boot in two shots. Was this a private act? No, more like a performance.

Now it was stifling hot in the boat, and the bright yellow foul-weather suit wasn’t helping. Dexter felt like a yellow teabag. Possibly this was the right time to exit MacGregor’s nautical lair.

It was still raining by the time Dexter was going in the opposite direction on the bicycle path. He found the time to reflect on his perfidy, just like how it was done in those old movies. MacGregor and his shutterbug partner in crime, how vile they were. To think that they felt enthralled to do these evil things to children fueled him. There was a great deal of purpose in going after them. This mental activity Dexter found enjoyable after leaving the boat the way it was before he had started his little investigation. Now that he found out how MacGregor did it, there was no more room for doubt that he couldn’t be a killer.

Relaxed and in a good mood overall, Dexter got back into his car. There was much to do, much to plan out for the next few days or so. And he was so very ready to start.