Connection Terminated

EDWARD HANCOCK II

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 Edward Hancock II

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Manufactured in the United States of America

ISBN-13: 978-1-493618-44-6

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my readers. The fans I lovingly call my E-listers. Your encouragement and support is what keeps me writing. Thank you all!

Dear Readers—

Before you begin this story, I wanted to prepare you for the adventure you are about to undertake. According to the Mendez Timeline, this story takes place in approximately 2005. Though this story takes place in a setting I like to refer to as “Alex’s own reality”, I do try to mirror events of our “real world” as closely as possible, without infringing on trademarks too often. That said, this story heavily involves the “cyber world”; that is to say, it involves the internet, IRC, mIRC, AOL and various other activities of the day which could be said to include things such as MySpace and Facebook, founded in 2003 and 2004 respectively.

I say all of that to say this; throughout the book, there are scenes in which one or more characters are chatting in some sort of Internet chat room. For those who did not experience the early days of the internet, reading such chat can get confusing, as there are often more than 30 people carrying on multiple conversations at the same time. In the hopes of quelling confusion, I have tried to limit the number of chatters in any given scene. I’ve also done away with all but the most basic chat room shorthand. To help make the chat read a little more fluid, I’ll clue you in on something that might help even further. Everyone’s chat is preceded by his or her chat room “screen name.” For example, if I were chatting in a chat room, you might first see “EdwardHancockII:” and then whatever I typed next to that. As any chat room veteran will tell you, anytime you see a generic name, something akin to “User38741”, they are usually new to the chat room and, to be blunt, often ignored. I don’t wish to discuss the merits of chat room etiquette. Merely to explain how things typically go. Right or wrong, that is how things typically are. I’ve often described Internet Chat as akin to a cyber high school, with the generic names being treated as the “freshmen”. Just as the chatters do during the conversation, you can feel free to ignore the chats of various members named “User” followed by a series of numbers. They are primarily utilized for realism sake and hold little real value to the story as a whole. Having said that, you never know when I might decide to stick something of random importance in a part of the conversation I’ve just given you permission to ignore. I’m sneaky like that.

There are also lines in bold, offset by dashes. These are to simulate the chat’s automated features such as announcing the arrival of new members. These can also be ignored, though they can also prove useful in introducing a new chatter to the scene. They help set the stage and frame the chat environment in its proper context.

While I encourage everyone to read every word of my book, I understand that certain people may need a bit of a cheat. You want to get to the meat of the story and don’t wish to linger in the peas, carrots and potatoes. However, I also realize there are many readers out there who get the most out of every morsel they are fed. Do not, under any circumstances, skip the internet chats all together, as there could very well be certain nuggets of information that may help you enjoy the story all the more. Perhaps even revealing clues to later events.

I hope this little tidbit helps. And for those who, like me, grew up in the peak of the Internet Chat era, you can feel free to forget you even read this. Just read the chats and enjoy. So, see? Whether you were a member of that generation or not, there’s something you can feel free to ignore. How’s that for taking care of my readers?

All my best, E-Listers!

Edward Hancock II

Chapter 1

Tuesday, October 11

10:07 p.m.

The hum of the engine excited her. One of the rare perks of an otherwise thankless occupation. She hadn’t been on the streets long, but even she knew that being picked up in a Jaguar was a rare treat. The car smelled new. And not that fake “new car” scent you get at car washes. No, this car smelled as if it were just off the showroom floor. Looked it too. Freshly waxed and polished. Not a speck of dust anywhere, so it would seem.

“You hear about that gal that got killed the other night?” she asked, doing her best to make small talk. “Yeah, I knew her. Sweet girl, Josey. Fine woman. Didn’t deserve this life. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. Some people just ain’t right for it. She was too good. God made her for better things.”

She chuckled to herself as she considered the irony of what she’d just said. Her career choice hadn’t been a childhood dream fulfilled. More, it had been an escape from the most horrific, not to mention Godless, man she’d ever known. No little girl ever grows up thinking about being a prostitute while Daddy bounces her happily on his knee. But, she sighed to herself, not every little girl was blessed with a great daddy.

When she’d left Houston, she swore she’d make a better life for herself than a stripper. Now, a year later, she’d gone from “Looky, no touchy” to “Have it your way.” She wasn’t all that excited about feeling like a happy meal for a bunch of perverted boys in grown bodies, but bills had to be paid.

It’s not that she didn’t believe in God. She’d just never been the patient type, so trusting in the time frame of some Being to which she’d never felt a sincere bond seemed foolish to her. Still, she’d always left herself open, should the Big Man Upstairs start to feel chatty. Like her current client, the Big Man Upstairs did not appear the chatty type.

“Not much for talkin’, are ya, Babe?” she asked, trying to get her head in the right mood.

When he didn’t reply, she reached over and touched the hand resting in his lap.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to do much talkin’. It’s your dime, Babe. We can do whatever you want. What are we going to do?”

There seemed to be the slightest of growls in the sigh he released.

“I don’t usually meet guys over the internet,” she said, feigning a coy demeanor. “But I have a feeling it’ll be worth it just this once.”

Her red dress had been specifically designed for the game of seduction. Seduction was, after all, her job. Unlike most nights, this seduction was different. She wasn’t much on meeting clients online, but this one had been the charmer. Not overly chatty, he’d won her more by presentation than anything. By what he said he was, more than what he said. Let alone how he said it. His voice was almost squeaky. But in possession of a slight gurgle. Not the stuff of dreams, to be sure.

He’d told her that he was thirty-five and athletic. Though he’d been able to color his receding hairline, he’d not been able to mask the thin build. Perhaps, she thought, he was a marathon runner.

When he’d first picked her up, he’d been very subtle when asking how much. Unlike his current demeanor, he’d started off more like the man with whom she’d chatted online. Surprisingly, he hadn’t so much as flinched when she’d announced a rate that was triple what she’d mentioned in IM’s. That alone excused any misinformation on his part. It might have also explained the sudden silence.

Occasionally, clients took her to dinner first. Those with money, who wanted the illusion of having a life outside of their ivory tower office buildings. Most wanted to head straight for a motel and get right to it. For all his mystery, this one definitely seemed different. She wasn’t sure where they were headed, but there weren’t any motels nearby and the closest restaurant had closed an hour ago.

He’d gone to a part of town she didn’t know very well. There were dark and windy roads – mostly oil-topped – that twisted, turned and intersected seemingly at random. Of course, there wasn’t much to see at the high rate of speed they traveled. Thirty-five or not, he knew how to handle a vehicle, she thought to herself.

“Baby,” she said, “I—I think I’m the one in for the treat.” She laughed and, despite the thick blackness that hung over the night, she cast the most hungered look she could in his direction. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she caught the slightest hint of a grin creeping across his stubbled face.

She let her mind wander to a time not so long ago. A time before she’d entered her current occupation. A time when the teenage version of her former self had been allowed to believe the one and only man she’d ever known (in that most biblical sense) had convinced her he loved her. Perhaps he had. Either way he was the first and, up to that point, only man who’d spent any time on anything resembling romance. As she imagined being taken out to an open field, filled with blooming flowers, strategically-positioned next to a babbling brook, she let herself believe that, maybe this one would be different. Maybe once she’d find something she could hold on to. Maybe, she thought to herself, God was answering her nightly requests to be loved completely and unconditionally.

Aside from the stray cat, which she’d named Romeo, the feeling of unconditional love seemed, for her at least, to be a pipe dream. She’d allowed Romeo to adopt her, mostly because he was the only man that ever snuggled with her and didn’t want something in return. Unless you count the occasional belly rub, which she was more than obliged to offer.

Caressing his hand, she felt a palpable change in blood pressure of the man she knew only by his online moniker. His palms warmed at her touch, but didn’t perspire. His long fingers seemed far too calloused for the white-collar riches he’d represented. Even without squeezing her hand in his, Sunshine knew the man in the driver’s seat was – would be – deceptively powerful. Rhett Butler kind of powerful. And she, the willing Scarlet O’Hara.

She let go an involuntary squeal, causing him to divert his attention momentarily from the road ahead.

“Sugar, you gonna tell me your name at least?” she screamed. “How much farther we got to go?”

As if answering her, he slowed the Jaguar. Making sure there was no one around, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. Her eyes brightened. It was dark. She couldn’t see much, but she noticed a clearing in the woods nearby. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, she’d get to play the part of Scarlet O’Hara after all.

Involuntary as it was, she let her mind wander to images of a moonlit picnic. One that would ultimately mark the beginning of a new life and, more importantly, an end to the old one.

Killing the car, he took the keys from the ignition and exited, without so much as a word. Sunshine surveyed the surroundings. It couldn’t be any more out of the way. Suddenly, her excitement turned to trepidation. She looked around, felt the car shimmy – as much from a sudden wind gust as from the fact he’d bumped it – and caught sight of him just as he rounded the back of the car. Stopping only momentarily to open the trunk, he soon appeared at the passenger door.

As he opened her door, Sunshine looked into the eyes of a man much different than the one she’d met. Something transformed. Darkness can often play tricks on the human mind. But, she knew all too well, darkness can also bring out the devil that lay dormant in some people during the daylight hours.

Something in his eyes. Something of a twinkle that was anything but merry. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Oh quit being a baby,” she whispered to herself, exiting the car.

Without saying a word, he motioned toward the small hiking path. His gesture was almost chivalrous. Again, the Rhett Butler image took over, setting her at ease. As she walked ahead, he placed a gentle arm on her shoulder. Instinctively, she took hold of his hand, welcoming the warmth of his touch.

“So, what do I call you?”

Still smiling, the image of Rhett Butler followed her into the darkness, along with the bitter smell of whatever was on the rag he placed over her face.

Chapter 2

Wednesday, October 12

1:13 a.m.

A second body in three days. This one, equally-mutilated as the last. Unlike the last, this one had been clearly his to investigate.

Found in a wooded area on the outskirts of Longview, Alex had spent much of the last two days arguing over simple jurisdiction of the first body. Two other local police departments relented if only due to the weight of Alex’s point that the resources of Longview’s police force, while hardly endless, far exceeded the typical budget of smaller surrounding towns. Having a friend as a former FBI agent didn’t exactly hurt either.

Now, standing over the body of victim number two, found in a wooded area less than a mile from victim number 1, Alex had begun to question the fervor with which he’d battled for the rights to investigate this case.

“Victim’s name is Gloria Hines. Twenty-two years old. On the street, she’s known as Sunshine.” Officer Reggie Brooks read the vital stats like he was reading a warehouse inventory. More than once, Alex had resisted the urge to chide the young officer for attempting to show professionalism in the face of such gruesomeness. But, Alex realized, that was necessary. Most cops had learned to detach. In all of his years, Alex had never really learned to detach. Not for real. Not completely. Alex could only guess Reggie Brooks had not yet learned it, but was trying to give the impression of having done so.

“Five foot four, 100 lbs. Looks short, even for 5’4. Two arrests for prostitution. Last was three months ago. More recent bust for possession.”

“Possession of what? How recent?” Alex asked, bending down to get a better look at the victim. Around him, various flashes and clicks confirmed that at least three officers were taking photos of the crime.

Flipping through his report, Brooks mumbled to himself, “Looks like the hard stuff. Coke, Heroin. Multiple hard drugs. Needles, the whole deal. About two weeks ago, looks like. M.E. will check her to see if she’s got any of it in her system tonight.”

“I doubt she’ll find anything in this one.” Alex said, eliciting an inquisitive stare from Brooks. “A gut feeling, Reg. That’s all. By the time you’ve been on the force this long, you’ll make those assumptions too. And you’ll learn to give voice to them without giving them too much thought. You voice them so that they’re not eating at you. Then you move on. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. Won’t amount to a hill of beans because opinions are not facts. You have to follow the facts, but the facts usually match up to the gut, after a while. Not always, mind you, but usually. You get the gut by being wrong, truth be told.”

Reggie Brooks’ confusion did not seem to waiver.

“But never, under any circumstances, let the gut outweigh the need for facts.” Alex continued, “We don’t solve cases by feelings. We solve them by facts. Feelings guide us, but we call that experience. There will be times where experience will work against you. Embrace experience as it comes. But follow the facts. Gut feelings don’t hold up in court.”

“Would you say you solved the Kramer case by facts?” Brooks asked.

“There are always exceptions, Reg. And if you want the real story there, the Kramer case was solved on two things. Luck on my part and brazen ignorance on the part of a very disturbed person. Occasionally, you get one like that. Occasionally, they want to get caught, even if they don’t realize it. Ego gets them in trouble. It’s like the ability to keep a secret is either not in them or just too underdeveloped that they have to own up to their crimes. But if you judge all police work by that one case, you’ll be a very frustrated cop. In all my years, I can count on one hand the number of cases that have turned out that way. And I promise I’ll have fingers left when I’m done.”

A gentle breeze kicked up, causing the stench of death to fill Alex’s nostrils. Staring up at Reggie Brooks, Alex pointed him away from the immediate area.

“If you need to puke, do it over there, Reg. Don’t want you contaminating my crime scene your first week on the job.”

“I’m fine, Cap.” Brooks said, though obviously struggling to hold his breath as he spoke. As he ran away, Alex thought he heard him mumble, “No, I’m not.”

Directing his attention back to Gloria Hines, Alex adjusted his latex gloves to make sure he wasn’t going to do what he’d just asked Brooks not to do. Careful, he reached out to examine her head and neck. “No noticeable lacerations to the scalp or temporal regions. Closer examination needed once body is removed from scene,” he noted in his hand-held recorder. “Ligatures on the wrists and neck suggest she had been bound. Hard to tell in this dim light, but wrist ligatures look as if they are pre-mortem. Autopsy will confirm.”

Careful not to disturb the body, he noted the deep lacerations in her wrist area.

“Victim was nailed between two trees, arms stretched out, crucifixion style. Nails appear new. Penetrate palms. Possibly pre-mortem. Note to self: Have Reggie track down the nails. See if they were purchased recently, locally. If so, by whom. Blood pooling and coagulation suggests fairly recent time of death. Victim found seated on the ground. Wearing bottom undergarments. Ankles crossed, similarly showing previous ligatures. Victim’s knees are slightly bent to allow feet to be nailed to nearby stump. Daylight examination of stump will determine if tree was recently cut down. As of now, looks to be coincidence.”

“That famous gut talking again, eh Alex?”

Startled, Alex stood just as Kellan Arthur reached him.

“How goes it, Kel?” Alex asked. “Seen my rookie anywhere?”

“If you mean that rather green guy in the blue tie and un-ironed shirt, he’s still puking over by the patrol cars.”

“I remember those days,” Alex whispered, more to himself than to Kellan Arthur.

“So do I,” Kellan agreed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let me guess, Danny tried to make you vomit every chance he got?”

“What tried? He had me puking within an hour. Reggie lasted two days before I got him. This makes twice in a week though.”

“Well, he always did believe in trial by fire. I Always thought the uniforms handled the grunt work. Danny didn’t get that memo. So, what’s the story?”

Alex reviewed the known facts with Kellan Arthur in brief.

“And you think this is related to the stripper we found out back of the motel?”

“Same M.O.” Alex confirmed. “This one was allowed the dignity of wearing her panties. Could be a copycat. Last one showed no sign of sexual assault. I highly doubt this one will either. No obvious bruising on the inner thighs. And, just like the last one, killer left us a little calling card on the body.”

Alex handed him a carefully-bagged index card.

“I can’t really read it in this light,” Kellan said. “Shine me a light over here.”

Alex directed his flashlight on the card, allowing Kellan to read it.

“Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. Colossians 3:5. So, we’ve got ourselves some religious nut on our hands. Great!”

“Careful there, Kel.” Alex admonished. “He’s not a religious nut. He’s a confused person, twisting the Bible’s meanings to justify his very ungodly actions. He’s perverting the sacred word of God to serve a very ungodly master. He’s not religious by any stretch of the imagination. What we have here is simply a nut.”

“Sorry, Alex.” Kellan said, “You know I didn’t mean anything by it. I love me some Jesus Christ, yanno. I just meant, well, like you said, we got us a nut doing his dirty work in the name of some supposed god. I’d still say he is religious. Terrorists are religious, Alex. They believe in what they’re doing. Terror is their religion. For this guy, he prays to the god of murder and thinks him the ruler of the universe.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “Point taken. Whatever this is, he believes in what he’s doing. And has justified it. And we can’t assume this prayer vigil is over.”

“Alex, I hope I didn’t offend you. I know you’ve been going to church and, I’ve wanted to tell you I’m really proud of you. You’re a good man. I mean that.” His serious demeanor lightened just a touch. Patting Alex on the head, Kellan continued, “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

They both chuckled.

“I know you weren’t playing judge, Kel. I just wanted to make sure we keep our justice blinders on. We have to go on facts and not make too many assumptions. Religious or not, we are cops. We can’t judge, professionally-speaking anyway. That’s somebody else’s job, whether we’re talking Religion or Justice.”

“Not what Danny would say. Danny would say you make those assumptions. You make those judgments, but keep an open mind as facts come in. And you’ll learn to give voice to them without giving them too much thought.”

Alex joined in as Kellan Arthur finished the thought, “You have to follow the facts, but the facts usually match up to the gut.”

“Wonder how many others got that line,” Kellan asked, smiling.

“If my calculations are correct, about half the remaining force.” Alex pointed toward Reggie Brooks. “And at least once, that message has been passed on to the next generation.”

Kellan gave a soft grin before directing his attention toward the dead body.

“I feel bad for her,” Kellan said, his voice filled with a somberness Alex hadn’t heard from him in some time.

“Me too,” Alex whispered, directing his attention back to the body. “We’ll get you a blanket soon, Honey.” He knew she wouldn’t hear him. But, somewhere between here the gates of Heaven, he hoped that maybe she looked back long enough to see the respect with which her physical remains were being regarded.

“Such a young thing,” Kellan said. “So much she could have done. You ever think that, Alex? You ever look at the body of a child or young person like this and, I don’t know what to call it, envision their life as if their life were flashing in front of you? The life that could have been, ‘if only’?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, in the midst of the mental picture show of a past to which Alex would never be privy and a future young Gloria would never get to know.

“Who is killing young girls, Alex? Who is targeting prostitutes? I know they break the laws, but who is playing God here? As a cop, we want justice, but as a man, something in me wants answers. The dad in me wants to give them a hug. Something else in me wants to punch this guy for picking on young girls.”

“Too early to connect the two, Kel.” Alex said. “We have to follow the facts. Your gut and mine say the same thing. They’re connected. We play it like it is. But we leave it open to the facts. We could have anything here. A copycat, a contest, or a serial killer.”

“I know. I just—“

“You just want to know who is killing lost souls before they can be rescued. I know. So do I. And when we find whoever it is, we’ll have a good old-fashioned ‘Come To Jesus’ with him and educate him on what Jesus really would do. And when we’re done, we’ll educate him on what a Texas Daddy would do.”

A distant siren distracted Alex just as Kellan was about to reply.

“Hold that thought, Kel.” Alex mumbled, looking toward where he perceived the sirens to be originating.

In seconds, a patrol car pulled up, turning its sirens off, leaving its lights flashing as it neared the crime scene. It parked, but the officers inside did not exit. Behind the patrol car, two dark sedans parked and two men exited from each.

As Alex approached the group, he recognized Josh Sutton panning the area in search of the officer in charge. Moe’s nephew, Josh looked nothing like the child his uncle likely envisioned. As Josh had recently started dating Alyson, his presence conjured something slightly more threatening, much like a father might feel anxious upon meeting his daughter’s new beau. To be sure, Alex liked him. But, it was the principle of the matter. With Lisa’s Uncle Stephen gone, the duty of protecting his daughter passed to Alex.

If it was this way with Alyson, Alex often thought, his sanity was all but guaranteed not to survive meeting Christina’s first boyfriend. Though his height was exaggerated by expensive-looking leather dress shoes, Josh lowered his gaze to meet Alex’s.

“Hoped I’d find you here, Captain Mendez.”

“Josh, please. Formality? Call me Alex.”

“Sorry,” Josh said, shaking his hand. “Never sure how to handle these situations. The Navy man usually kicks in and I have to fight the urge to salute my superiors and click my heels together, throwing my shoulders back in the interim.”

“Well, if you’re anything like your uncle, you’ll figure it out in no time.”

“What have we got?” Josh asked.

Alex noticeably blanched.

“No offense, Josh, but we’ve got a murder victim we discovered less than 20 minutes ago. How’d you get here so fast and, while we’re on the subject, why are you here in force?”

“Alex, I’ve been ordered to take over this investigation.”

“What do you mean take over? Ordered by who? Not by me and not by Chief Steelman at this hour!”

Alex could feel frustration wrapping its unwelcome arms about him. The antithesis of Alex, Josh seemed cool, focused. Nothing like the unsure rookie persona Alex had created in his imagination moments ago.

“Alex, I’m just following orders. And they came from the Dallas office. Yes, they were vetted by Steelman. This morning, actually. Before this discovery. All I can tell you is that we’re looking at something big. We don’t know if it’s a serial killer, a competition, a sleeper cell of some sort or just a lot of copycat killers out for glory seeking, but we have victims across the state matching this M.O. The bureau’s been chasing this down since before I joined. We’ve got murders in Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, Waco, Denton, College Station, Huntsville, Texarkana, Nacogdoches, Tyler, and now two in Longview. As far back as the 1990’s. All with the same M.O. Same calling cards. Evidence suggests a connection. We are working all angles on this.”

“Boss?”

Alex hadn’t heard Kellan Arthur walk up, so he flinched at the sound of his voice.

“Kellan,” he said, taking a deep breath. “FBI Agent Josh Sutton. You remember Moe, right? This is his nephew.”

“Keeping it in the family eh?”

Shaking hands, Josh gave a courteous smile to Kellan, never once breaking his air of professionalism.

“Alex, I’m not here trying to play territory games with local LEOs. Am I going to have your support on this?”

“You mean, am I going to just step aside and let a rookie FBI agent lead an investigation in territory with which he’s unfamiliar on orders of an entity to which I have not spoken?”

“Alex, I—“

“Josh, two days ago, I had a major spitting contest with two local police departments when the first victim was found. She was found in a wooded area of unclear jurisdiction. I convinced them that Longview P.D. has more resources, more manpower and therefore the best chance of catching this guy. Now, you’re asking me to turn tail and run from a case for which I fought so hard?”

Brushing a hand through his hair, Josh, looked toward the body.

“Fill me in?”

“Going to answer me?” Alex asked.

“Y’all can’t just come in here and take over!” Kellan protested, causing Alex to raise a hand to silence him. Several startled officers gazed in their direction before returning about their various duties. When Kellan shot a disapproving glance, Alex merely nodded and motioned toward the dead body.

Walking alongside Alex, approaching the victim, Josh reassured him again that Chief Steelman had, in fact, verified the orders.

“All I can tell you, Alex, is that I’ll be handling things from here with Special Agent Cade Foster over there. The tall guy who looks like the Terminator joined SEAL Team Six. Either one of us will be the point of contact. The Bureau technically gave it to me, but Cade’s a good man. If I’m not around, you can count on him.” He pointed to the agent who’d been driving the car from which Josh had exited. He was, as Josh had described him, imposing.

“What about the other two?”

“The dark-headed man is Agent Craig Porter. The redheaded woman is Special Agent Kinsley Arena. Quite the firecracker, that one.”

“Easy there, Ace,” Alex said, giving a gentle slap on the chest, “You’re still seeing my wife’s cousin you know.”

Josh laughed. “Alyson’s met her. Actually ‘firecracker’ was her word. I agree, though. Whatever you do, don’t let her get on a roll talking. She has the right to remain silent, but she does not have the ability. Great agent, though.”

Josh bent down to examine the body. Carefully, he pulled two latex gloves from his pocket and fit them on.

“Wow,” he whispered to himself.

“You know, Josh, I’ve been doing this for some years now and, in my experience, I don’t think ‘wow’ is quite the reaction people are going to need from you.”

His concentration remaining on his examination, he replied, “Sorry, not what I meant. A knee-jerk reaction, I guess. This is just like the others. Well, the others I know of. Denton, Dallas, Texarkana and Tyler.”

“What do you mean?”

“See this?” Josh said, pointing to something on her neck. Alex moved closer to the body. And then he saw it. A slight bruising, barely visible in the dark of night. Something Alex had missed in his initial processing.

“Was she choked?” Alex asked. “There’s only bruising on one side.”

“No, look closer.” Josh said, suddenly slipping into full-on investigator. “The bruise surrounds a puncture wound.”

“Okay, that I saw.” Alex said, though he wasn’t sure he’d really noticed. “I wrote it off as an animal bite or something. She has a history of drug use. Could be she decided to shoot into a more direct spot.”

“It’s not. And unless I miss my guess, you’ll find traces of Coke in her system.”

“Coke? Cocaine? How do you know?”

“No, Coke. Coca-Cola. Oh, it’s not the same stuff you and I drink over the counter, but traces of Citric and Phosphoric acids will be found in her blood along with the real reason for the injection, Hydrofluoric Acid.”

“Hydrofluoric Acid? Never heard of it.”

“Highly corrosive. Absorbed right through the skin. Injection seems a bit harsh, really. I figure the Citric and Phosphoric are there to throw people off. Or, maybe a safety precaution in case it gets spilled on him? A reagent. Maybe diluting it.  Maybe to act as some sort of stabilizer for the other. I’m not a chemist; but if anyone had touched this body without the knowledge of the presence of hydrofluoric acid, you’d be needing a new medical examiner. At least two M.E.’s have died from autopsying the victims of this guy.”

“Got ourselves a little homegrown terrorist,” Kellan said, cocking his lips to the side as he spoke.

“It would appear so,” Josh confirmed. “Something to that effect anyway. Not sure he fits the typical terrorist bill. But definitely a very sick man who targets strippers and prostitutes and thinks that God told him to do it. And apparently gets off on the idea of collateral damage.”

“So, Josh, with all these cases, has the guy left no clues? No prints or anything?”

“Wipes the bodies clean, so it would appear. Not of blood, but somehow of prints. Not even a glove print. Our best forensic specialists have even tried to trace indentions in the bruising only to be thrown off. Most of them are naked; some are semi-clothed like this one. We’re not sure why he takes the clothes of some but not of others. Each one is displayed differently, though most of them are as brutal as this one. Some worse. I think the display isn’t so much a part of the ritual as just some sick form of art, maybe. Cade believes it’s random placement. He may be right.”

“How does he have time to do all of that? This body is still warm. Granted, she’s gone, but he can’t have gotten that much of a head start.”

“Any witnesses?” Josh asked.

“No, not that we’ve seen so far. It’s a pretty secluded area. None have come forward from the first one either. He picks a time of night that most people are home, even the party crowd, it would seem.”

“Between you and me,” Josh said, his voice possessing a hardness Alex hadn’t heard out of him before. “I’m not a pessimist by any means, but I am a realist. The only way we’re catching this guy is if somebody gets lucky and gets away.”

“Kellan,” Alex said, “I need you to contact the M.E’s office. If Tabby hasn’t started the autopsy on the first victim yet, I need you to apprise her of the situation. Tell her to use extreme caution. Whatever this guy is, he seems bent on causing damage. I want everybody in or near the crime scene issued gloves if they’re not already wearing them. Anyone that touched body number one is under my order to see a doctor immediately. Should we wear masks too, Josh? Is this stuff deadly by air?”

Josh shook his head. “Alex, at the risk of starting an argument, you are right that Longview’s resources dwarf that of most local towns. But I’m sure you’d agree that the FBI’s resources will dwarf Longview’s to the same degree.”

Alex pursed his lips and took a deep breath.

“Josh, you’re right. And I trust your uncle, which means I trust you by default. But you can’t cut me out of this. I’m from here. I know this land better than you, end of story.”

“Alex, we always try to utilize the knowledge and experience of local LEO’s.”

“And I am not just any local Law Enforcement Officer, Josh. You said it yourself. Experience. No matter your resources, I have more experience than you. A lot more.”

“And I’ll utilize that as well, Alex. I just don’t need, to use your words, another spitting contest. We both want the same thing. There’s things I need that you have and there’s information that you need that I have. SEALs are trained to work as a team. I don’t know any other way to work, honestly.”

“So, which one of us is lead?” Alex asked, regarding the young man suspiciously.

“Who needs a lead? We’re both leaders. I’m leading the agents with me. You’re captain of the local LEO’s. In the end, this guy’s going to federal prison, Alex. So, it doesn’t matter which of us catches him. And if he strikes in Tyler or any other area, I’ll work with those LEO’s too. To the same end. As I said, they taught us to work as a team. You benefit from my strengths, I benefit from yours. We watch each other’s back and cancel out each other’s weaknesses. Our mission is the same. Grab the boat and let’s get it.”

“Grab the boat?”

“Sorry.” Josh chuckled to himself. “SEAL thing. I just mean…” he extended his hand to Alex.

Raising a curious eyebrow, Alex took Josh’s hand in his. Their grips were mutually tight.

“Partners?” Josh asked.

“Partners.” Alex nodded.

Chapter 3

Wednesday, October 12

4:47 a.m.

-- WELCOME JustMeAly to MyBook Chat Land --

GorGonGreg: Aly! Babe! I’ve missed you! Where ya been!?

User94836: Welcome to the chat, JustMeAly

NikkoWantsU: Hey Aly! Still pretty as ever right?

ReelGENT2U: Aly, my love!

-- WELCOME KerrginEx4 to MyBook Chat Land --

KerrginEx4: Hi, Chat Land! Any ladies out there want to chat with M/23/Reno?

NikkoWantsU: No, Kerrg… we’re all guys in here.

User94836: KerrginEx4…F/21/Lake Tahoe… want to chat? IM me!

User40091: Hi, JustMeAly

JustMeAly: Hey Greg,! Hey Nik! Hey Gent! Been hangin’ with the BF!

PhanTOM14: Hey JustMeAly. Want to chat? IM Me?

GorGonGreg: BF!? Aly! You said we’d get married! LOL j/k! Who’s the lucky stiff?

ReelGENT2U: Yeah, who beat me to your heart, Aly?

JustMeAly: LOL! U Guys! Careful! Josh is FBI.

User43310: I’m FBI too.

JustMeAly: That’s great, User… where U from?

User43310: Miami. Lots of female bodies to investigate down here.

JustMeAly: *groan*

NikkoWantsU: Awful late for you to be up, ain’t it, kiddo? Where’s this grand BF of yours? Not there to snuggle with you?

JustMeAly: Well, I live with my cousin. I help her take care of her kiddos. Josh is staying with his uncle until he can find a place.

GorGonGreg: So you two haven’t…?

NikkoWantsU: Greg! Dang Bro! That’s Aly!

GorGonGreg: Hey, Nik! I just gotta make sure it’s okay to put my shotgun away! LOL!

NikkoWantsU: LOL! ^5 to that one, bro!

--Instant Message from PhanTOM14—

PhanTOM14: Want to chat?

JustMeAly: No, thanks.

-- WELCOME User34579 to MyBook Chat Land --

JustMeAly: He’s sweet. Really. And no, Greg, we haven’t. We’re not gonna.

JustMeAly: You’ll be happy to hear he’s a gentleman.

ReelGENT2U: Hey! There’s only ONE Gent in your life, Aly!

NikkoWantsU: Baby Girl, they’re all sweet in the beginning. If he hurts you, you tell him Uncle Nik knows people who know people who…

NikkoWantsU: know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried.

GorGonGreg: Shh! Dude! You’re not supposed to tell! I’ll have cops all up in my back yard by sundown!

JustMeAly: LOL! Y’all make me laugh. Say, have u heard about the murders out here?

ReelGENT2U: Heard the sirens a couple nights ago. Not joking, Aly! It was a block from my house!

NikkoWantsU: Who got whacked?

GorGonGreg: Wasn’t me, Aly! I swear I was here in Michigan the whole time, Babe!

---- WELCOME WeNdYzAgUrL to MyBook Chat Land –

JustMeAly: Wendy! ‘bout time one of the girls got in here! I was feeling kinda wrong being the only gal in here

GorGonGreg: LOL Aly! You know you love us!

WeNdYzAgUrL: Aly! Baby! Honey! Dumplin’! How are you!? LOL!

ReelGENT2U: Wendy! The love of my life! How are you!?

WeNdYzAgUrL: RockMEGently! How are you, sweets?

JustMeAly: Gent! I thought I was the love of your life! I’m hurt! (j/k)

ReelGENT2U: Movin’ on, babes. You got a man. Wendy’s still single.

User43310: Yeah, I heard about the murders. Know who did it too!

WeNdYzAgUrL: Single doesn’t mean available, Genty. You’re a bit far from PA.

JustMeAly: Hate to cut this short, gang, but my honey just called. Gonna go spend time with my man. Well, on the phone. ;)

WeNdYzAgUrL: Yeah, returning the favor now? Leaving me alone with all these fine men?

JustMeAly: Your turn to try and keep these heathens under control, babe.

GorGonGreg: Aly, hon? I have two ex-wives that gave up on controlling this heathen.

NikkoWantsU: Say hello to the man, Aly. And tell him if he treats you wrong, I’m gonna send my band of Ninja Oompa Loompas to take him out.

-- JustMeAly has left MyBook Chat Land --

Chapter 4

Wednesday, October 12

8:37 a.m.

Even Alex’s office chair was getting on his nerves. Every move, every twitch. It seemed every batting eyelash caused the chair to squeak, squawk and squeal with the echoed harmonics of a full symphony. Every footstep in the hallway was like the ticking track of the metronome, keeping time of the agonizing day as he waited for the inevitable visit from Chief Steelman telling him he was completely off the case.

Sure, he had plenty of work to do. With Danny sidelined, Alex had been saddled with his responsibilities as well as his own caseload. There was no shortage of paperwork, briefing and interviews that needed to be conducted. In truth, that was part of the pressure as well. But, Alex was Superman.

Right?

He sighed as the very thought occurred to him. No he was, at best, Clark Kent with a badge. Superman would have already gone through the stack of forms that needed his signature. Superman would have already rounded up every lost cat, every purse-snatcher and every cab driver that was charging five cents per mile too much to his fares. Superman would have stopped every child molester, rounded up all the wife beaters and caused every crooked politician to go straight. That’s what Superman would do. Alex Kent, mild-mannered half-wit, was having none of that. “No Sleep Alex” was stewing like a five year old, alone at his desk, staring at a pile of paperwork that wasn’t getting any smaller despite his greatest mental efforts to the contrary.

He wasn’t sure if he was more amazed or alarmed at the speed with which he stood to his feet when his door opened.

“You okay, Alex?”

“Sure, Chief,” Alex let go a relaxing breath.

Chuckling, the chief said, “I haven’t seen anyone snap to attention like that since I was a young recruit in the Corps.”

“Little tense,” Alex sat, eliciting a squeal from his chair that rocked him to the very nerves of his teeth.

“We’re all a little tense right now, Alex.” The chief repositioned one of the office chairs, sat and met Alex’s eyes. A knock on the door diverted their attention. Without waiting for Alex, the Chief gave entrance to the older gentleman and his younger female companion.

“Alex, I’d like you to meet someone.”

“Is this where you tell me I’m no longer lead on the prostitute killings?”

Chief Steelman sat back down.

“Talked to Danny recently?”

“Chief, don’t. Just give it to me straight, okay?”

Standing, the chief paced toward the door, turned after a couple of steps. “Alex, this is not where I take you off of anything okay? If you want it straight, I am ordering you to play nice with the FBI agents. I’m doing that for me and, to be honest, as a favor to Moe. He wanted to ask you himself, but he’s been feeling under the weather recently, so he asked me to just ask you to go easy on Josh. The boy has a good head on his shoulders. He’s a born leader. But he’s green. Those are Moe’s exact words. And my exact words are this; they are the federal government. They have resources we don’t. You are the experienced local authority. You have information and tools they don’t. Guide the boy and keep him from getting killed or killing an innocent in the process of catching this guy. Whoever he is, Alex, he’s got federal charges on him. He’s killed all across Texas. Rumor has it, he’s killed in Oklahoma and Louisiana too. Maybe elsewhere. If they can prove it, that makes it one massive case on our hands and, between you and me, he’s not going to spend any time in a local jail anyway. Your job is simple. Stop the guy from killing anyone else. If you catch him alive, hand him off to federal authorities and let them house him. If you don’t catch him alive…” Chief Steelman paused. Looked toward the corner behind Alex. “That plant needs water, Alex.”

“Sir?”

“You need it spelled out, son?”

“No, sir.”

Pointing to the older man, in a police uniform, Chief Steelman said, “Alex, I am not sure if you know Pastor Highland. Jim’s been a Chaplin for many departments. Just transferred here from Indiana.”

Pointing to the lady in the dark business suit, Chief Steelman continued, “This is Pastor Highland’s wife, Jocelyn. Mrs. Highland is also an ordained minister and will be here acting in a similar capacity with the female officers. They are here for whatever guidance or advice our men and women might need. Spiritually-speaking, of course.”

Alex shook their hands

“Pleasure to meet you both,” Alex said, offering his best absent smile.

“Anything you need, young man,” Pastor Highland said, “Here’s my card.” His hand was as shaky as the soft, Irish-brogue lilting from his throat. A brogue that seemed diminished by a throaty gargle.

Chief Steelman approached Alex and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest, Alex. I’ll hold the fort down for a few hours.”

“Oh, Sir. No, I couldn’t—“

“Couldn’t what? Son, it wasn’t that long ago, this job was mine. I haven’t been chief so long that I forgot what it was to head a division. You go on home. Get a nap. You’re wound up tight as a spring. I need you loose and ready. You’re my quarterback on this.”

“Put me in, Coach. I’m ready to play.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Pastor Highland said, “You look troubled, Son. Tired. The ‘weight-of-the-world-on-your-shoulders’ kind of tired.”

Alex said nothing. Nodded.

“First things first.” Chief Steelman motioned toward the door. “Go on. Get! Before I change my mind.”

“Sir, I…” Alex paused, unsure what to say next.

“If you want my professional opinion,” Pastor Highland interjected, “A little rest goes a long way to refreshing the heart, mind and soul.”

Alex smiled, sighed. “Thanks, Chief. Pastor. Mrs. Highland. Again, my pleasure.”

“Don’t thank me.” The chief said. “When you get back here, I expect your full attention and I expect this case to be solved. Over handcuffs or a dead body. And I’d prefer it not to be yours.”

Alex could already feel the weight of the world getting lighter as he opened the door to head for home.

“One more thing.” The chief said.

Alex turned, but said nothing.

“Kiss Lisa for me, will you? I miss that gal.”

“Will do, Chief. You should come by for dinner sometime. We’d love to have you.”

“First things first, Alex. Solve this case. Then dinner will be on me. You have my word.”

Chapter 5

Wednesday October 12

9:19 a.m.

It was certainly a beautiful day outside. Exiting the station, Alex closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the cloudless sky. Soaking up the sun, he resisted the urge to throw his hands outward and spin as a child might.

Rounding the corner, Alex’s relief met intrusion. Spotting three camera crews rushing toward him, already shouting questions and calling his name, Alex darted to the left in a futile attempt to avoid their interrogative barrage. Heading toward his car, Alex suddenly found himself surrounded by the familiar faces of Amy McMahon at Channel 7, Jennifer Greyson with Channel 56 and Laura Hunter from Channel 12. Hunter was the greenest reporter, having just joined channel twelve’s team a couple weeks ago. Perhaps seeking to overcompensate for her lack of tenure, Hunter – A blonde woman barely 5’2 in heels – threw an elbow, meeting Amy McMahon’s ribs with enough force to ward of a potential retaliation. Momentarily buckling, McMahon – standing nearly eye-to-eye with Alex, in her heels – turned red-faced, but maintained composure in her urgent pursuit of a story. Greyson – the lone brunette of the group – took care to avoid the fray while still firing questions and blocking Alex’s way. He noticed she appeared to be pregnant, although she couldn’t have been too far along. Reinforcing this theory, she kept a protective hand on her stomach as she lurched forward and jockeyed for position, stumbling slightly, appearing almost to wobble in place.

Alex raised his hands, accidentally bumping the channel 56 cameraman. He quickly apologized, eliciting a wink from the cameraman.

“Ladies, please!” Alex shouted, his hand still raised to quiet them. “Ladies!”

“Is it true that the victim last night was a prostitute?” asked Jennifer Greyson.

“Can you tell us if this has any connection to the other body found a few days ago?” asked Amy McMahon.

“Captain Mendez, what can you tell me about the victims? Are there any connections between this body and the other one?” Laura Hunter chimed in.

“Ladies,” Alex said, his hand still raised, “I can’t tell you anything right now, but you are welcome to call our office and speak with the media relations department.

“Come on, Captain Mendez!” Amy McMahon said, “You know those goofs will just give us the standard line.”

“Well, Ms. McMahon, if they give you the standard line, they’ll be giving you more than I’m going to give you. Now if you please. I’d like to get to my car.”

“Has there been another body found?” Asked Jennifer Greyson. “Where is it?”

“It’s on Third Street. Third and Marshall. If you hurry, you can probably get video footage of them removing the body. Might even beat me there at this rate.”

Without questioning him, the three news crews turned and rushed toward their respective vans.

“Lord,” Alex said, looking toward the sun that was, now, partially hidden by a huge cluster of pine trees. “I really hope you’ll forgive me for that little white lie. And, if you would, keep your hand on those three crews. I’d hate to be responsible for a car wreck triggered by three news crews trying to scoop each other on a story I just made up.”

Entering his car, he sighed, chuckled to himself.

Taking out his cell phone, he called the chief. Steelman was confused, but he didn’t ask any questions when Alex asked him to send a car to the Burger King on the corner of Third and Marshall.

Chapter 6

Wednesday, October 12

9:31 a.m.

The Cyber Crime Unit of Texas sounded much more official than it actually was. While founded by a former police officer and Army Drill Sergeant, and often partnering with law enforcement to capture online predators, the unit itself actually had no real legal authority to conduct official investigations or to make anything other than a citizen’s arrests. They could be – and often were – contracted by the police to help in the war on cyber crimes against children.

This, however, was a new day.

Founding members Brady Phelps and Steve Cross had long ago moved on to other tasks more suited to their preference for the physical aspects of work. According to a plaque near the entrance, Phelps had become a private investigator and moved to New Mexico while Cross had opted for a job with a police force in New York. He’d gone in Tower Two on September 11th, just minutes before it came crashing down atop him. His body had been found less than two feet from the last survivor to be pulled from the rubble of the two towers. In the four years since, six different people had felt the need to keep their dream alive, only to move on a short time later. Jason Carlson had been the first one to stay longer than a year.

When Jason got the call asking him to help the police monitor adult-oriented chat rooms in an effort to help them catch a criminal, his instinct was to say no. Something about the job seemed off, though even he couldn’t put his finger on what might be causing his reluctance, so it surprised even himself when he heard his own voice agree to help with the investigation. Now, in his whitewashed office that was anything but private, he sat with his three most trusted volunteers.

“Mack, I want you to be our liaison with the police.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Alyson Warner interrupted, “I have no doubt in Mack’s leadership, but I am the cousin of the current acting captain of homicide. It might be better to have a contact he already trusts, wouldn’t it? I can get inside where Mack can’t. No offense, Macky.”

“Alyson,” Jason said, “I thought of that. In all honesty, I think we risk a conflict of interest there. First and foremost, you guys are a team, so I am not going to keep you from talking to your cousin. If it helps, it helps. I just felt that it would be better if we have someone not related to him as the ‘official’ contact point. It keeps the operation professional, not personal. Fact is, he could trust you too much and reveal something to you that would, ultimately, get a guilty person off if it corrupts the investigation. Even we have to worry about how we’ll be painted in the liberal media, these days. And let’s be honest, I don’t want to run the risk of distracting him from his job by having you too close to the line of fire.”

And besides, Jason thought to himself, if anyone had to go under cover, it’d be Mack. And as a former Army Ranger, Big Mack was more than able to handle himself in most circumstances. Captain Mendez was an unknown commodity. They’d worked with Captain Peterson and with Chief Steelman when he was captain, but never with Captain Mendez.

“So what do we do?” Jessica Lewis asked.

“You and Alyson are to coordinate your online patrols. Decide who takes what room and when. Since you can’t be here 24/7, I’m going to also bring in Tamara Davis and Nina Edwards. I’ll be team lead for them.”

“So, the boys are playing chauvinist? In case you haven’t heard, Jason, It’s the 21st century now. Girls can do anything boys can do. In some cases, better.” Jessica Lewis said. She crossed her arms defiantly.

“Then prove it, Jessica. Play by the rules. Team or no team, I’m the boss here. And it happens to be that I’m a man. If you have a problem working for a man, you are a volunteer. We will miss you, but you are certainly free to go volunteer at another facility. Maybe there are some puppies that need washing at the animal shelter.”

“Jess,” Alyson whispered, “You’ve known Jason as long as I have. It’s not a chauvinist thing. Besides, my boyfriend works for the FBI and, from what he told me last night, my cousin will be reporting to him. Either way, us girls have the power, right?” she winked at Jess, hoping to soothe soured feelings. Gave a nod to Jason, as Jessica finally uncrossed her arms.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“No problem, Jess. Okay, Mack, I want you to contact the police department. See if you can coordinate with Captain Mendez. Then I want a briefing. I want all of you in here at the end of your shift. Remember that this is a monitoring job only right now. You’ll operate two computers at the same time, with two individual identities. That’ll help you be in two places at once. Your I.P. is being bounced off servers in Turkey, Greece and D.C. itself. Every time you shut down and reboot, your computer generates a new I.P. address. It would take the FBI with a sophisticated BOT Agent the better part of a week to track you down, so you should be secure from any attempted hackers. We have no leads. No description, no screen names. Nothing even to make us think it’s suspicious, so I’m told. The police department just asked us to cover this area, since we are experienced. It frees them up to do other things. In all honesty, it’ll probably turn out to be nothing. Can’t be too careful though, so watch yourselves.”

Jason motioned back to the center’s main monitoring area.

Everyone got up to leave.

“Alyson, could I see you for a minute?”

“Sure, Jase, what’s up?”

Jason waited for the others to leave.

“Is that true, what you said? About your boyfriend?”

Alyson laughed. “Yeah, he’s a fed. Has a sister too, if you’re looking.”

Jason smirked, “No, Camille and I are doing pretty good, thanks.”

“She’s so not worthy of you, Jase. You know it and I know it.”

“So, uh, your boyfriend?” Jason continued. “Think you’ll be able to get anything from him? Will he be useful to us? On the off chance the feds hone in on this, will we have to take a back seat to federal computer geeks?”

“I’m not going to go over your head if that’s what you’re worried about. And, I’m not a fed so I can’t say what will happen, should things get hairy in Longview. I just said that to chill Jessica out. I love her to death, but little red has some serious guy issues. Probably why she can’t keep a man for more than a month.”

“Well, I appreciate your support.” Jason said, “And, if you think it would help, I would like to meet your boyfriend. About the case. That’s all I meant. If you think it will help us help the police catch this filth, by all means, bring him up here. Put another way, you have my permission to go right smack over my head with this one, so long as you clear it with me first. I just want to be prepared if I’m going to be giving up the keys to my humble kingdom.”

Alyson chuckled to herself. “Whatever you say, Slick.”

“I’m serious, Alyson.” Jason said, getting up and walking toward her. He stopped and sat on the corner of his desk, leaned slightly toward her and whispered, “Alyson, I don’t know the details, but we’ve got a bad one here. This is not just some Dateline special with some guy who touched a kid inappropriately. We were invited in because we have the pulse of the Internet. We might be volunteers, but we’re vetted. Every person in that room has extensive background with Internet security. Several, including Mack, have law enforcement and military in them. Not to mention that Eric Reid kid you brought me is a computer genius! Not bad for a high school kid! I’ve never seen a computer that can change its I.P. address. I told him I didn’t want to know how he did that.”

“Yeah, well, he needed a hobby that got him out of the house. Lost his parents a few months ago. Good kid. Just needs some guidance. A good man in his life.”

“And you brought him to me?” Jason asked, laughing.

“Well, if we’re being technical, I brought him to Josh and Alex first. They suggested I bring him here to make use of his computer talents. You two do seem to have a lot in common. Both good with computers and you both have a knack for getting yourself in trouble with authority.”

“Okay, well talk to your boyfriend if you want. Coordinate with Mack and see what you can come up with. I didn’t want to say anything to Jess or Mack, but we may have two new recruits soon.”

“Anyone I know?” Alyson asked, getting up to leave.

Jason looked down. Stood and ran a finger across his desk as he headed back toward his chair. Sitting down, he took a deep breath.

“Cops.”

Chapter 7

Wednesday, October 12

9:37 a.m.

It was weird to think of the term “shift change” related to Danny outside of work, but when Alex pulled into his driveway and saw one lady in white scrubs, brightly-painted in every color Alex could fathom walking toward the house as another lady in bright orange scrubs walked toward her equally-bright yellow Camaro, the words involuntarily fell out of his mouth, echoing in the confines of his otherwise empty car.

He’d come at a good time. As he parked in the driveway, he recognized Brenda Johnston – the black woman in the painted scrubs that had obviously never met a stranger – entering the house. The pudgy blonde woman in bright orange was foreign to him.

“Hey, Mrs. Brenda!” Alex said, reaching around to open the screen door. Turning the knob, he cracked open the front door, tapping gently as he did so.

“Hey, Captain Alex! How you doin’ today?”

“Doing good, you?” he said.

“Uh huh. You know it,” she said.

“Hey, Danny? You awake?” he shouted, rapping on the wall as he entered.

He walked into the small foyer, turning into Danny’s well-lit living room to the left. For a bachelor, he sure decorated a lot. There were all sorts of police awards, news articles. And the occasional photograph. Alex recognized the younger version of Mrs. Peterson and assumed the man beside her was the younger version of Danny’s dad. The three boys in the picture were Danny and his brothers. Alex had no problem picking out the eyes of his old friend’s younger self, flanked by his older brothers. Knowing Danny, Alex surmised that the decoration was probably done by his Aunt Aggie. She was a sweet woman, pushing 80, and extremely doting on Danny. Having had no children herself, she’d lived vicariously through her siblings quite well over the years, doting endlessly on each of their children. Though Danny would never have admitted it, Alex couldn’t help but wonder if there was a pink bunny suit somewhere in the back of his closet.

“I’m in here, Alex.” Danny called from the kitchen, just off of the living room. Rounding the partition, Alex looked to the left and saw Danny standing at his refrigerator, his walker strategically positioned to the side, so as to not obstruct Danny’s access to the fridge.

“Mr. Danny. What you think you’re doin’?” Mrs. Brenda chided. “You know you ain’t supposed to be up on your feet. You sit right down and tell me what you want. I’ll get it for you.”

Scowling, Danny resisted, albeit weakly. His legs would not yet allow him much in the way of protest, so Danny was forced to grasp the handles of the red and black walker that had been purchased for him by the department.

“What I want,” Danny said, in a voice that was filled with too much angst, even for Danny, “is to go for a stroll around my own house. What I want is to get my own drink out of the refrigerator, stand up like a man when I pee, and what I want is to not have somebody play nurse maid to me 24 hours a day, 7 days a stinkin’ week!”

“Well,” Mrs. Brenda said, stepping aside, “By all means, Mr. Danny. Have at it. I’ll just be headin’ home. My husband and I’ll just go have a nice quiet dinner. But don’t you worry, none. Ms. Nina will be back here first thing in the morning. And you can send her on home as well.”

Alex loved Mrs. Brenda’s voice. It was a mixture of so many things. A throwback to a time hundreds of years ago with a modern air of strength and determination. Authoritarian and loving. Intelligent, but in possession of a child-like ignorance he’d often wished for in adulthood. It was, to Alex, as if nothing evil or negative could touch her. He was often reminded of a verse he’d read in the Bible that spoke of no weapons formed against you can prosper. Meeting Mrs. Brenda, Alex was certain that the verse covered verbal weapons as well.

“Danny,” Alex said. Danny met his eyes with a disapproving stare.

“I know what you’re going to say, Alex. But I’d prefer it if you’d just save it.”

“Well, I’d prefer it if you’d just sit down and let me have a nice visit with my friend.”

“Don’t you have a case you should be working on?” Danny chided. “For that matter, don’t you have my caseload you should be handling?”

“I’m handling it, Boss.” Alex said, walking toward the living room. He turned just long enough to see Danny following him.

“You’re handling it, huh?” Danny scoffed. Brenda adjusted the pillow in his leather easy chair just as he sat.

“Thank you Brenda.” He smiled. A genuine smile. Taking Brenda’s hand, he continued. “I’m sorry. Ah, don’t pay me any mind, Alex. You know me. A cantankerous old coot. This being helpless stuff ain’t for me, Bro.”

“From the looks of things, you don’t seem too helpless, Danny. You seem to be doing pretty well if you’ve got the energy to be a fussbudget. Much better than when I stopped by last week.”

“Yeah, well, I’d be doing better still if the doctor would let me have some Dr Pepper!”

Alex laughed. “You and your Dr Peppers!”

Danny scowled. “Laugh it up, jerk. At least you can eat and drink whatever you want. When you got one kidney, a ruptured bowel and half a liver, the food they let you have—“

“Danny, I’m—“

“Shut up!” Danny interrupted, loud enough that Brenda came back out of the kitchen into which she’d ventured. “You apologize to me and I swear on everything I hold dear, I’ll—“

Alex sighed. “Danny, I can’t help it. You and I both know this happened because of me.”

Danny had been shot a few weeks back. Shot by a couple of gangbangers who were attempting to dissuade the Longview P.D. from pursuing an investigation into the death of Andrew Kramer – father, husband, racist. He’d taken the bullets meant for Alex, or so Alex had believed. And now he was sidelined, recovering from wounds he never should have suffered in the first place. Survivors guilt some would call it. Alex called it truth.

Alex hadn’t spoken of it to anyone – except God of course – but a huge part of him felt like it was happening all over again. Or maybe it was still happening. “It” being the revenge of the universe for daring to want to step out of his brother’s shadow. While he’d never felt truly in Danny’s shadow, there was an understood bit of hero worship, in that Danny had been Alex’s trainer just as Ted had been one of the men to train Danny.

“I love you like a brother, Danny.”

“Okay, don’t start that either!”

Looking down, Alex chuckled. He raised his head, looked at Danny.

“Kick me if you want. Or just put it on your ‘to do’ list for when you’re better, but Danny, I am sorry. I’m sorry this is you going through this. It should be me.”

“I mean it, Alex! Shut up, right now! It shouldn’t be you anymore than it should be me! You didn’t do this to me!” He pointed to his stomach area. “You didn’t stick a gun to my belly and try to take my life. You didn’t try and threaten me. You didn’t bow up to the entire Longview Police Department! I know what you’re thinking, Alex. I know what you’ve always thought. You are not responsible for your brother’s death and you’re not responsible for me getting injured. You are responsible for one thing. Your family. Your family now. Wife, kids. Your mom, Alyson.”

Alex started to speak, but Danny raised a defiant hand.

“Shut it, Kid! You’re gonna listen to me and you’re going to listen good! I did not pay for your sins, whatever you might think those sins are. Whatever little bit I know about that God of yours, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me to get to you. And I sure don’t think he’s going to hurt me because of something you think you did as a kid! You are a better man than all of us put together. If this God of yours is the loving thing you all believe him to be, why would he seek revenge on his own kind? If your God is half as smart as you want him to be, He’s smart enough to not take down one of the best men to ever grace this planet.”

“Danny, I—“

“Shut… Up!” Danny’s gritted teeth and wide-eyed anger caused Alex to lean back slightly.

Alex folded his hands, ringing his fingers back and forth, twisting and contorting them to relieve his stress.

“Alex,” Danny continued. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone since this whole thing happened. I don’t think I’m coming back.”

Alex’s eyes widened. He could feel the blood rushing from his face.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he continued. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with the department. I didn’t want the job when I took it. It was supposed to be temporary, so I thought. I fully expected we’d be demoted back to Lieutenant once a new Captain was named. Then, I started to like it a little bit. Not the command part. I’m not a commander. But I enjoyed not having to be on the street. I enjoyed being a paper pusher.” He paused, sighed. His entire being seemed to soften, “When the attack happened, I realized that we’re not safe. Cop or citizen, we’re just not safe anymore. Cops have to abide by the law. Criminals don’t.”

“Mr. Danny,” Brenda Johnston interrupted, “It’s time for your pill.”

He said nothing. Took the pill, popped it in his mouth and took a big drink of water, tossing his head back as he swallowed. Handing the cup back to Brenda, Danny looked around the room, as if searching for something.

Pointing, he said, “See that picture?”

Alex noticed a picture sitting on Danny’s mantle. He stood and approached it. He recognized the younger version of Danny standing aside the last version of Ted Mendez he’d ever seen alive.

“That picture was taken two days before your brother died, Alex.”

Alex turned toward Danny, but said nothing. The shocked expression on his face was enough.

“I lied to you the last time you asked about Ted. I knew him better than a little bit. He was my trainer. I once told you he was just one of the guys to show me the ropes. Alex, your brother was a good man. Driven and knowledgeable. And he was someone I looked up to. When he died, I swore to him that I’d take care of you.”

“But how—I mean, how could you have known that I—“

“That you would someday be a cop?”

Alex nodded.

“I saw it in your eyes at the funeral. I know you don’t remember seeing me there. I kept my distance. But I saw you. I knew who you were because I saw Ted in your eyes. Not much, but enough. Something in the way you stared at the coffin. It was as if you were trying to will your brother back to life.”

Fighting the echoes of the ghosts of spirits past, Alex felt a tear forming. Looking away, he quickly wiped the tear.

“I was. I’d spent my whole life in Ted’s shadow. When he died, I spent a lot of years cursing God. Mom raised us catholic. After Ted’s death, I never went to confession again. Stopped going to Mass. Still won’t go with Mom when she goes. Although, she’s started going to church with me and Lisa when we’re able. If I have to work, she usually accompanies Lisa and helps with the kids. Does Mom know you knew Ted?”

“I’m sure she does. It was a number of years ago, though. She might not put 2 and 2 together. Could have forgotten. Or maybe she just wants to let him rest in peace. A mother’s heart is not something I’m an expert on, Bro.”

Danny’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, pressed the talk button, shouted into the mouthpiece at the top of his lungs, and pressed off.

“Telemarketer,” he said, eliciting a real belly laugh from Alex.

“So,” Alex said, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “Why tell me this now? Why this deathbed confession? And, for God’s sake, why all this talk about not coming back?”

“Honestly? I just saw things pretty clear in that moment. Facing down Death himself is a very interesting feeling. And if I’m going to die, I just wanted it to be with a clear conscience.”

“Wait, die? What? Danny!”

“No, Alex,” he said, raising his hand again. He adjusted in his chair, shifting his pillow to a more comfortable position. “I’m not dying. At least not yet. Or, well, at least not planning on it. But, yanno, I didn’t plan on getting my guts shot out either so…”

Alex stood and approached Danny’s chair. He knelt down beside the chair.

“Don’t even think about it, Alex.”

“Think about what? I just want to pray for you.”

“No,” Danny said, “you want to pray over me. Or pray with me. You want me to suddenly have a come to Jesus conversion. I’m just not there yet, Alex. Truthfully, I don’t think God’s ready for a sinner like me yet.”

Standing, Alex reached down and touched Danny’s shoulder.

“God’s ready whenever you are, Danny.”

“Good to know. ‘Cause I’m just not ready yet.”

Alex turned and walked toward the kitchen.

“Where sin abounds,” Alex said, quoting one of the Bible verses from last Sunday’s service, “Grace abounds much more.”

“How do you do it, Alex?”

“Do what?”

Alex opened the refrigerator and found the orange juice. He took it from the fridge, poured himself a glass and replaced the carton on the shelf.

“How do you just accept that God is the way to go? How do you accept it’s all real? I mean, this isn’t our grandfather’s America anymore. There’s Buddhists, Scientologists. Heck, there are a thousand different religions that all call themselves Christian. So, are you Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian or what? How do you do it? How do you separate fact from fiction?”

Drink in hand, Alex walked back into the living room.

“Danny, I don’t have all the answers. I really don’t. And I don’t want to offend my friends at work, so I don’t talk much about it. But, honestly, I don’t put my faith in religion. Religion is manmade. I put my faith in God. My Bible tells me that God sent his only son to die for us. It doesn’t say he only sent his son for one group or another. It says ‘for whoever shall believe.’ I believe. So, if you really want to know how I do it, I do it by faith. Now, am I going to tell you my faith is perfect? No. I’m still learning. For a grown man, I really don’t know much. I’ve made it a point to read my Bible cover to cover twice now. Lisa and I pray together every night before bed.”

“See, that’s another thing. You’ve got a whole family to lead for God. I’ve got, well, I’ve got me.”

“All the more reason for you to believe, Danny.”

Danny said nothing. Merely cocked a confused eyebrow.

“Look, I’m a father and husband. True. And if I want them to make it to the Heaven in which I believe, I’ve got to take the lead. The faith lead. I believe in strong women. My mother was a strong woman and saw to it we went to Mass. When I see Lisa’s strength, it doesn’t intimidate me. It honors me, because we’re on the same path. She adds her strength to me, and I do likewise, I hope. And the one mutual thing we both have is our children. If I don’t show them the way, they’ll not learn it from this world. But you don’t have the stress of having to lead a wife or a child. You have you. You have to save you for you. And then you can be the light that leads others.”

“Oh, I see what you’re trying to do. Alex, I don’t want to—“

“Danny, look, I’m not trying to convert you or whatever. I’m trying to open the door to you. That’s it. You are my family too. You’re as much a brother to me as Ted ever was. Truthfully, I’ve known you longer than I did my own flesh and blood. So, in a way, you’re one more reason for me to do this, Boss. You’re welcome in God’s family. And contrary to what you think, the Bible says where sin abounds grace abounds all the more. You know, this case has me thinking a lot about that verse, actually. This killer seems to think he’s doing God’s work. But he obviously doesn’t read from the same Bible I read. The one where Jesus pardoned sinners and told the church people to let the sinless one throw the first stone. This guy seems to be throwing a lot of stones and that, in and of itself, is going to be his undoing. I don’t know why God has delivered this evil into my hands, but rest assured I will use every power at my disposal – legal and spiritual – to show this guy the error of his ways.”

“I love you, sometimes.” Danny laughed.

Alex smiled, “Love you too, Bud.”

“Okay, so tell me more about this guy. Maybe we can nail his hide to the wall and let every prostitute and stripper in East Texas stone this sucker to death.”

Maybe not, Alex thought, but at least your mind’s back in the game, my friend.

Several hours and a phone call from Lisa later, dusk was starting to take hold of the East Texas sky.

“You’ll catch him.” Danny said, as Alex bent down to hug him goodbye.

“And you’ll be back in your Captain’s chair.”

He hoped.

Chapter 8

Wednesday, October 12

8:30 p.m.

“And God bless Brandy and, oh yeah, Baby Joey too. Amen.”

As Christina crawled into bed, Alex found himself amazed at the big girl that was his daughter. He never really understood how people said it felt like they blinked and their child grew up, but that is how he felt. With every passing day, she seemed to age another year.

Lost in his lament, he bent down and hugged her.

“Nice of you to think about your little brother, there, Baby,” he joked, causing Christina to giggle.

“Daddy?”

“Hmmm?”

“How come you’re a policeman?”

“Well, because,” he paused, not really sure how best to put it in five-year-old terms.

Outside, a branch ticked against Christina’s window, urging him toward some unknown statute of limitations for answering her question.

“Your daddy is a policeman because he wants to keep the world safe for all the little boys and girls.” Lisa interjected. She moved up behind him and wrapped her hands around his neck, kneeling to kiss him on his cheek. “And your daddy is very good at his job.”

Walking around Alex, Lisa bent down to tuck Christina in. Alex stood back just as Lisa kissed Christina on the cheek.

“How come you’re not a policeman anymore, Mommy?”

“Well,” Lisa said, “I’m a busy Mommy. I have you to take care of and Baby Joey. I’m still a policeman. I just have fewer people to care for.”

“Good answer,” Alex whispered, stifling the urge to chuckle.

“How come God lets bad people live? Can’t he just kill ‘em and let only good people live?”

Lisa pursed her lips and looked back toward Alex. He just shrugged and bent down next to the bed.

“He probably could,” Alex admitted, “But then Daddy would be out of a job.” He finished by tickling her.

Still giggling, she pressed her tiny fingers against Alex’s cheeks and pulled his face toward hers until they were forehead to forehead.

“You only have one eye, Daddy.”

“Wow!” he said, not moving, “You only have one eye too! What are we gonna do?”

She giggled again and Alex pulled back.

“Oh! There it is! Now you have two eyes!”

“Okay you two,” Lisa said, “Now that we’ve found our eyes, I know a certain baby girl that needs to close hers and go to sleep.”

Taking Alex by the hand, Lisa walked toward the hall.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah?”

“I love Baby Joey. I’m sorry I prayed for him last.”

“It’s okay,” Lisa said, obviously trying not to laugh. “At least he made the list. Now go to sleep, Sweetheart.”

“I love you, Mommy. And I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too,” they responded in chorus.

Walking down the hall, toward their bedroom, Lisa sighed.

“Something on your mind, my dearest?” Alex asked.

“Just glad you’re home. It’s been a long day.”

“I know. And after we’ve had our showers, you can tell me all about it.”

“You go first,” Lisa said. “I want to check on Joey real quick.”

Stopping at the entrance to their bedroom, he pulled Lisa close.

“Did you know that I am helplessly, hopelessly, completely, entirely, wholeheartedly, madly in love with you?”

She kissed him gently on the lips.

“Too many adverbs, Babe,” she whispered. “Just tell me I rock. Kiss it. Keep It Short and Simple.”

“I’d rather just kiss you again.” Alex said, planting a deep kiss on her lips.

As they broke, he noticed a slight flush rising in Lisa’s face.

“Okay, all that stuff you said? Ditto. Now go shower, before I forget what I was about to do.”

“What were you about to do?” Alex asked.

“Hmmm…” she said, feigning forgetfulness, “now that you mention it.”

Lisa let go a startled yelp, kicking her leg in the air. She turned, just as Alex looked down at the mischievous grin of his four-legged child.

Grinning, Alex bent down. “What did you do to your mama?”

“Your furry daughter has a cold, wet nose, Alex Mendez.”

As her breathy laugh echoed through the hallway, Lisa turned and walked toward Joey’s room.

Petting her head, Alex smiled. “Way to ruin Dad’s moment, kiddo. It’s a good thing I love you. You know that right?”

Brandy sneezed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Now, off to bed with you too, young lady.”

He walked her toward Christina’s room. Obediently, she hopped onto the bed. Christina stirred, but was already too far gone to wake from the journey toward dream land.

Standing in the shower a few minutes later, Alex had no problems. He gave passing thoughts to the case, but suddenly found himself more than willing to play second fiddle to Josh Sutton, FBI.

He thought about the conversation he’d had with Danny. He knew that the whole shooting had scared Danny. It had scared him too. But to hear Danny speak of quitting unnerved Alex more than usual. He’d spoken of it before. Danny had aged way before his time. But something about this time sounded more resolute. More real. As Alex turned the faucet to full blast, he found himself just praying that the water would somehow beat some sense into him. Sense, courage and a whole lot of ability he did not feel he had.

I can deal with being Captain Alex, he thought to himself. But I can’t deal with this.

As he closed his eyes, the voice of Pastor Highland reached out of the past and grabbed hold of him. He did feel like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. But, in a very real way, he was truly starting to understand what it meant to turn things over to God.

“Let go and let God,” he whispered to himself. “Let go and let God.”

As understanding turned to fear, which turned to hope, which turned to uncertainty, which turned to confusion, Alex began to pray. Not for himself, his home or his children. Without knowing what he really wanted to say, only that he wanted to say something, Alex began to pray for his best friend.

“Heavenly Father,” he whispered, “Danny needs you…”

Chapter 9

Thursday, October 13

8:54 a.m.

“Five minutes, Alex.”

The chief’s voice startled him back to reality. It wasn’t his first press conference since becoming acting head of homicide; and he was quick to use the word “Acting” when introducing himself. To remind them that his position was temporary, asking every reporter each time to be sure to include Captain Danny Peterson in the nightly prayer ritual.

“You have your statement ready?” Lisa asked, straightening his tie one last time.

Even though she would not be the one speaking today, she looked nothing short of gorgeous in her Navy suit. She was a fusion of eras, seemingly grasping from the most gorgeous of history’s famed femmes. She was, in Alex’s eyes, one box hat away from invoking the spirits of Patricia Connelly and Jackie Kennedy to go with the stylistic phenoms of later times.

“Nah,” he chuckled, “I figure I’ll just wing it.”

Wrapping him on his shirt collars, Lisa huffed.

“Don’t worry, Babe,” he said, hugging her. “I got this.”

“You sound so confident,” she joked.

“This one’s tough,” he admitted, sitting in a black folding chair in the middle of the otherwise empty room.

The City Government Complex building had many modern amenities that even the relatively new police station hadn’t included. Looking around the barren waiting room, going over his notes in his head, Alex couldn’t help but wonder how it was that a building that included self-flushing toilets could somehow not find a few extra dollars to make the waiting room more inviting.

“You check on the kids?” he asked, trying to distract himself.

“They’re fine, Alex.” She grabbed his shoulders and started rubbing.

Tilting his head back, Alex let out a deep breath. “I’ll give you exactly one hour to stop that.”

A rap on the door prevented her from answering.

“You ready, Alex?”

“Ready, Chief.”

Kissing Alex on the cheek, Lisa whispered, “Go get ‘em, Hero.”

“Love you, Babe.”

“Back at you.”

Walking into the hall, Alex smelled fresh paint. He hadn’t noticed the smell when he arrived, so he wondered if maybe they’d been doing some work when he wasn’t watching. As the hallway narrowed, funneling him toward the open auditorium where he would apprise the public of the situation and the danger thereof, Alex had to resist the pubescent urge to reach out and touch the wall.

“Have they painted recently?” he whispered, as Kellan entered from the auditorium.

“I dunno. Touch it and see if it’s wet.”

He laughed.

“Boys,” Chief Steelman said, “Am I going to have to separate you two?”

“Yes, Dad.” Alex chuckled.

“Are we there yet?” Kellan chimed in, grinning playfully.

“Don’t make me pull over. I’ll turn this press conference around, I swear!” The chief joked.

“Oh, please do!” Alex winked.

“Ha! You don’t get off that easy, Alex.”

As they reached the threshold, Alex was stricken with powerful nervousness. The room was not huge by any means. The capacity was approximately 50 people and up to 6 news teams. It had never been full. In fact, Alex could not remember even seeing it more than three-fourths full.

“It’s real simple,” the chief said, stepping out of the line of site. “I’ll go first and won’t take any questions. I’ll speak, then introduce you and Kellan. Alex, you’ll speak and introduce Josh Sutton who is already seated next to the mayor and city council. After that, we open the floor to questions. Kellan, as Alex’s named second, be ready for them to hit you too. You may not have a speaking role, but you’ve seen as much of this as anyone.”

“I’m with you, Chief.” Kellan said. “We got this.”

As the applause rose in the auditorium, Chief Steelman gave them one last inspection.

“Lookin’ good, boys. That’s our cue.”

Chapter 10

Thursday, October 13

9:48 a.m.

The speeches went by rather quickly. The crowd, comprised of both reporters and local citizens, followed the instructions to hold all questions until everyone spoke.

The Chief was good at directing traffic, allowing each television station one question before getting to the citizenry.

When Gabby Halloway from Channel 3 tried to ask a follow-up question, Chief Steelman quickly rebuked her, stating that each station would get more chances after the citizenry had an opportunity to have questions and concerns met.

A large man with a potbelly stood and approached the podium set up for citizens to ask their questions in an orderly fashion. He didn’t seem dressed for a press conference. His tattered Houston Oilers cap, muddy Wranglers and worn out work boots suggested an oilfield existence.

“Sir, My name’s Melvin Bowers. This guy’s attacking young girls. I got a daughter goin’ to Kilgore College. How am I to know she’s safe?”

Alex, Chief Steelman and Josh Sutton all traded looks. Finally, Josh nodded and approached the microphone.

“Sir, I’m FBI Agent Josh Sutton. I assure you that we are working with the Longview PD to find the person responsible for this awful crime. As of now, there have been no attacks in the Kilgore area, but I would advise your daughter to not pick up any strange people. I know society wants us to believe the good in everyone and be a Samaritan, but at this time, I would advise caution. East Texas is a close-knit collection of communities. I would advise everyone to stay vigilant.”

“I’d also like to add,” The chief interrupted, “if your daughter sees anything suspicious, she should notify the local authorities, whether that be the campus police or the city. It is best for everyone, but particularly women, to travel in groups. No one should travel very far alone, especially at night. With all due respect to you lovely ladies in here, if you have to travel at night, travel with numbers, as our killer seems to be targeting women. To address your question more directly, it is best for your daughter to use her best judgment and first speak with the school regarding security issues.”

The man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. As he returned to his seat, a young black woman in a deep purple and black business suit approached the microphone.

“Shanda Ward. I just want to know is there any ethnic or racial connection to the attacks? Who is the guy targeting?”

“With all due respect, Ms. Ward,” The Chief continued, “What we can tell you is that he seems to be targeting women at this time. We cannot assume that he’s targeting one race more than another. I would advise the same caution for you as for a Hispanic woman or a woman of any other ethnic, racial or religious background.”

“Understand,” Alex said, as the chief stepped back, “we have to maintain the integrity of the investigation, so there is a lot we cannot say. But until we catch the person behind this, we have to advise everyone to be safe.”

After a brief pause, no more citizens approached the mic.

“Any more questions from the public? If not, I’ll turn the floor over to the reporters again.”

The chief paused to give people time to get to the microphone.

“Okay,” the chief said, when no one else asked questions. “Ms. Halloway, I’ll let you have the first question.”

Gabby Halloway stood up. She was a strikingly beautiful Hispanic woman whose waist-length hair was more reminiscent of Pocahontas than of her Hispanic roots. Alex knew her reasonably well, which is to say he didn’t know her maiden name, but he was aware of the fact she married into money and did not need to work as a newsperson. She worked because she loved the news. While Alex had more respect for her than most reporters, she’d been in the business long enough to feel the effects of the tabloid journalism era plaguing newsrooms all across the country. She was good, no doubt. But she could be a bulldog.

“Sir, you didn’t say, but the rumor is that the killer seems to be targeting strippers and/or possibly prostitutes. Can you comment on that? It seems that, if the killer is targeting this specific demographic that most of the rest of us would have little to fear.”

Alex noticed a slight redness rising in the chief’s face.

“Ma’am,” Alex said, allowing the chief to compose himself, “What we can tell you now is that it appears the person is targeting women. To be safe, we have to advise all women, regardless of your profession, ethnicity or any other demographic to exercise caution. Killers change their M.O. all the time. He could target basketball players tomorrow and change to news reporters next week. I don’t want to be bent over your dead body, Ms. Halloway. I don’t think anyone would want that.”

As Gabby Halloway sat down, Jennifer Greyson from Channel 7 stood up.

“Ms Greyson?” Alex said, acknowledging her question.

“Captain Mendez, I’d first like to say that wasn’t very nice of you the other day. Giving us a false lead is irresponsible.”

Alex smiled, “Well, you know. I heard there was something there. It was just a rumor. I’m glad to know that we have such a vigilant reporter as yourself to separate fact from rumor. I can sleep rather soundly at night knowing you’re on the job. Now. What is your question or did you just want to trade barbs this morning?”

Smiling, as a cat with a new toy, she looked down at a small piece of paper she was holding.

“Actually, I have a question. I’m wondering if you can comment on autopsy reports that suggest the presence of poisonous substances in the bodies of the victims.”

Alex looked at the chief, who motioned at Alex. As he leaned over, the chief whispered an update in his ear.

“If you’ve seen an autopsy report, Ms. Greyson, you’re a better police officer than I am.” Alex sneered. “The official autopsy report will not be ready for some weeks and I am told that the preliminary report just arrived on my desk this morning.”

“And I have sources everywhere, Captain Mendez. So, can you comment on this?”

“As I stated earlier,” he said, not flinching, “I can’t comment on a report I have not yet read. That would be irresponsible of me. But, even if I’d read it, I can’t comment on something that might lend itself to would-be copycat killers or, again, give the person responsible a heads up that he or she needs to change tactics. Neither do I want to give any aspiring sickos any ideas, truth be told. You’re a smart woman. You should know better. Our job is to catch this guy. Your job is not to get in the way of us while we do our job.”

“Actually, Captain Mendez, my job is to make sure to report on the news at hand. In part, to make sure you’re doing your job for the citizenry present today and for those hard working citizens who could not attend this meeting. If you haven’t read the report, Captain Mendez, One must question the level of care and preparation the department is under, in the absence of Captain Peterson.”

“The problem with some reporters, Ms. Greyson, is that they put the story ahead of the community welfare. We don’t live in a police state. I understand and respect the need to know. Last time I checked, however, there’s only one badge between the two of us. I cannot tell you how to be a journalist. I’m not a writer. But I can advise you that safety is often compromised when some dogged story seeker puts the scoop above the personal welfare of the public they serve. As I recall, you gave birth to twins a couple years ago. By the way you protected your abdomen the other day, one might assume you are pregnant again. How would you feel if a story you printed led the alleged killer in this case to seek you and your children out? As I said to Ms. Halloway, I don’t want our next meeting to be over your dead body either. Responsible journalism is, or at least should be, about knowing when to hold something back for the greater good. What I can tell the public is that they should never touch a dead body regardless. It could be booby-trapped. There could be any number of dangers. It could be a trick that would ultimately lead to the capture and killing of an innocent person whose curiosity got the better of him. I would ask you not to reveal speculative things, as it is both of our jobs to keep the community safe, even if we employ different methods by which to secure them.”

His rebuke was met with a smile and a nod as Jennifer Greyson returned to her seat. Her face flushed and Alex knew he had struck a nerve with her. Perhaps his chastisement had given her the reality check she needed. Perhaps, however, it had thrown down just the challenge she’d been searching for.

Slightly unnerved by the exchange, Alex looked at Josh. His smile, slight as it might have been, was nothing short of a silent “high five”.

“Okay, boys,” Chief Steelman whispered. “Time to wrap.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alex said, “We really appreciate your involvement. Remember to call the police department if you have any tips.” Pointing to the table off to his left, he continued, “There are cards over there, by the exit, with the tip line on them. You can also file tips via the internet if you have access. Hopefully, we don’t have to remind you that you should not attempt to apprehend anyone yourself. All suspects in any crime can be assumed armed and dangerous until declared otherwise by a duly-appointed law enforcement officer. Ones with a badge.”

Looking at Jennifer Greyson, Alex had already begun to regret the words, even as he fought to offer his best conciliatory smile.

He paused, stepped back, allowing the chief to step forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you again. And we have to go get back to the business of catching this person.”

Chapter 11

Thursday, October 13

10:13 a.m.

“Remind me not to let you do any more Q&A’s with the news people, eh Alex?”

“I couldn’t help it.” Alex laughed. “They had it coming.”

“Well, you sure gave it to them, from what I could hear,” Lisa said. “I think you must have chewed five pounds of back fat off that Greyson lady.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, suddenly serious. “I did not make a friend in there today. I’m actually glad this is only temporary.”

“About that,” The chief said.

“Chief, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I didn’t want to say anything in that briefing without running it by you first.”

“What’s on your mind, son?”

“This investigation.” Alex ran a hand across his neck, nervously. “Look, you know and I know I can’t be here twenty-four hours a day.”

The chief nodded, but said nothing.

“The point is, Chief, I need some help. I need another point of contact if I can’t be there. Someone P.D. yanno? And, with Danny sidelined, Kellan is the only one I’d really trust right now. He works the same shift as me right now and, honestly, it’s wearing on both of us to be there. I’m willing to take the night shift at least until this is over if he can cover the day shift and be the point of contact while I’m away.”

“Way to discuss this with your wife first, Alex.” Lisa interrupted.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I just really think it’s for the best. And it would only be temporary. Until this guy is caught.”

“And it puts you right in the line of fire, Alex.” Chief Steelman said. “Frankly, you and Kellan are a dynamic team that I’d hate to break up, especially with you training that rookie. But, I’ll make you a deal. You are right. You need a rest. You can’t be here 24/7. So, I’ll cover the day shift with Lt Coleman and Agent Cade. You and Kellan keep this nightshift going with Josh. No sense breaking up the Three Amigos. We’ll start the shift change Monday night, if that’s okay. That’ll give you time to get adjusted and you have Sunday off anyway. I’ll let Josh know. I have a lunch with him. And, for God’s sake, Lisa stop looking at me like that. The boy is right!”

A sudden wind gust whistled through the nearby trees. A red Ford pickup drove by, blaring some sort of thumping beat. It was already unseasonably warm and Alex reached up to undo the tie, allowing a sudden breeze to cool his sweat-covered neck.

Pointing, Alex said, “boy, I wanna be just like them when I grow up.”

“Okay, so where were we? Chief, I’ll come in on Sunday night. We don’t need to wait till Monday. It’ll be rough making such a sudden shift, but we gotta catch this guy. I can’t really afford for me to be off.”

“Alex, you take Sunday. Get clear. If anything happens, we’ll get it straight to you. But you need to be fresh. So, you’ll work days through Saturday, take Sunday off and come in Monday evening. Sound good? What’s so funny, Lisa?”

“I wish Danny could have seen you in action today,” Lisa laughed, nudging Alex. “He’ll never believe it.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll all be on the news. Say, where’s Josh?”

A dark blue sedan stopped by Alex’s vehicle. Josh got out, accompanied by an official-looking older man with salt and peppered hair.

“Alex, Chief.” Josh said, “I need you both to meet me at Longview Regional.”

“What’s wrong, Josh?”

“Uncle Moe had a heart attack this morning.”

***

Thursday, October 13

11:17 a.m.

Rance Remington. That was the name of the agent that had given the bad news to Josh. Standing in the waiting area, waiting on Josh to come back and let everyone know how Moe was doing, Alex regarded Agent Remington with a curious fascination. He reminded Alex of an off duty member of the Queen’s Guard who’d forgotten it was okay to move.

As Lisa entered the waiting area, Alex smiled.

“How are the kids?”

“They’re good. Your mom’s watching them. Alyson is on her way up here.”

“Think it’s a good idea leaving Mom alone with those two?”

“She said she’d be fine,” Lisa assured him. “Christina’s a big girl now. I’m sure she’ll help out as much as possible. I hate to say it, but she’s learned how to stay out of the way when there’s trouble and how to pitch in when there’s a need.”

“Sad,” Alex agreed. “I know. But she’s a sweet one. Great big sister. No denying it.”

“I called Danny. Told him what’s going on. He sends his best.”

Over the hospital intercom, a few whispered calls requested doctors and referenced codes with which Alex was not familiar.

“I guess we just wait now. Anybody want anything?”

The chief shook his head.

“I’m good,” Lisa said.

“Agent Remington, uh Rance, can we get you anything?”

Silent, stiff, Remington shook his head

As he was turning to walk toward the vending machines, Alex caught sight of Josh walking through the door of ICU.

His face was forlorn. His complexion pale beyond measure. He smiled, a weak attempt to comfort and reassure, but it was written on his face.

Without a word, Josh Sutton sat down and wept.

Chapter 12

Thursday, October 13

12:21 p.m.

--Instant Message from PhanTOM14—

PhanTOM14: A/S/L?

BellaDoniA23: 23/f/Longview. U?

PhanTOM14: 35/M. How are you?

BellaDoniA23: I’m fine. How are U, Hon?

PhanTOM14: Bored. Lonely. The usual. LOL!

BellaDoniA23: I hear U. Where are you from?

PhanTOM14: Want to meet for dinner?

BellaDoniA23: Honey, I work nights.

PhanTOM14: I saw.

BellaDoniA23: Saw?

PhanTOM14: Read your profile.

BellaDoniA23: So U know what I do?

PhanTOM14: Certainly do. So, dinner?

BellaDoniA23: Where we going?

PhanTOM14: It’s a surprise. See you at 8:00?

BellaDoniA23: Sure thing. But, U have to pick me up. I don’t “meet”.

PhanTOM14: Addy?

BellaDoniA23: 2795 Houston St. Apt 471

PhanTOM14: I’ll be out front at 8:00

BellaDoniA23: How will I recognize you?

-- PhanTOM14 is attempting to send you a file. Receive? (Y/N).  --

BellaDoniA23: Y

-- PhanTOM14 has sent you a photo  --

BellaDoniA23: Handsome!:)

PhanTOM14: Thanks. Your turn.

BellaDoniA23: Sending now

-- Send file “Bella1.GIF to PhanTOM14 (Y/N)  --

PhanTOM14: Very nice… See you at 8:00.

BellaDoniA23: Looking forward to it! :)

-- PhanTOM14 has signed off and did not receive your message.  --

***

Thursday, October 13

6:47 p.m.

She was born Shelley Donella Ferguson. Married at 19, widowed at 21, she’d kept her married name until six months ago when twenty-three-year-old Shelley Ferguson became Bella Winters. Her roommate – another working girl known as Harmony Winters – was not her sibling, though they’d been known to pretend, if that is what the customer wanted.

Standing 5’2, possessing little in the way of curves, she looked closer to 13 than 23. She certainly could not have passed for a legitimate sibling of the curvaceous 5’9 half-Latina, Half-Vietnamese Harmony. When she considered the other working girls, which she often accompanied, Shelley never felt as though she fit into her chosen line of work.

Chosen?

Did anybody ever choose this life, she often wondered? Like most girls, she realized, she was just waiting for her handsome prince to ride in on his mighty steed, take her by the hand and rescue her from this life of filth and degradation. Of course, her prince had already been killed in some Middle Eastern desert. It didn’t seem likely to her that anyone in her position was likely to get a second chance. Choice or not, for now at least, she was stuck in a life that was no more a choice than the fact she had been born with strawberry blonde hair that had lost the strawberry before her fifth birthday.

Her friend, DeeAnna, might have chosen this profession. If anyone had, 38-year-old DeeAnna Franklin had chosen this life. Or, she thought, maybe DeeAnna had just given up so long ago that she no longer had the desire for anything more than the familiar. More than once, Bella had considered that DeeAnna was, in fact, herself in 15 years. Somewhere inside, Shelley still held out some glimmer of hope. Bella had long ago conceded reality. She’d stopped counting the number of prayers she’d made for God to rescue her from this world. In truth, she’d recently given up praying for rescue. If God was going to do it, He’d do it. If He wasn’t, well…

Faith was not something she’d ever really known, so it would be a lie to say she had faith in God, or His desire to rescue her. It wasn’t really that she questioned God’s ability. Raised Southern Baptist, she’d always been taught God could do anything He wanted to do. For some reason, she thought, He’d allowed her to remain in this life. So, while God could do anything, for some reason, he chose not to act on her empty, faithless prayers. She didn’t question why.

She had always heard that pain got easier to deal with in time. As she struggled for every breath, she lived with a keen awareness that time seemed to move in cycles. Forward, then back again. Today was one of the “back again.” Standing in the shower, her eyes awash with tears, the falling water, hopefully, drowning out her cries, she missed Matt more than she could remember having ever done so. She was proud of the fact she’d married a war hero. Ten years her senior, Matt had been quite the family scandal. Her parents had refused to accept him, partly due to his age. The other part was because she’d been raised by devout pacifists. While her church might have been Southern Baptist, her parents’ religion had been one of total pacifism. To the point that her parents had actually left every church within a 20 mile radius of their home at least once. It was at one of those churches that she’d met Matt. Her blessing. Her true love. Her hero.

Now, when she needed a hero the most, hers was rotting away in some distant grave. Buried with hero’s honors, he now rested six feet deep in the hallowed ground of Arlington National Cemetery. A lifetime away.

A lifetime ago.

She’d initially fought for his survivor’s benefits. But with her parents estranged and no real money to speak of, it was a short, fruitless fight. She’d been denied because the government determined they hadn’t been married long enough. A poor excuse, really. She’d known a couple others in Matt’s regiment that had been married much less time when they died. One had married the day before the unit shipped out. Perhaps if they’d had a child, the government would have looked more kindly on her situation. Perhaps, as she’d so often assumed, it was just life shooting her in the foot yet again.

“Suck it up, Bella,” Shelley whispered. To her very core, it seemed as if she was talking to someone else. A stranger. And yet, she was talking to herself. Her new self.

“Hurry up, Bella!”

She screamed when Harmony knocked on the shower curtain. Harmony laughed.

“You scared me!” Shelley screamed. “When did you get home?”

“Just now. You got one tonight?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, with absent enthusiasm.

Turning off the water, she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself before opening the shower curtain.

To her left, she saw Harmony fixing her make up in the mirror. The air conditioning vents rattled themselves awake after a brief slumber. Stepping on to the small rug, a rush of cold air fell upon Shelley, causing her to shiver. She groaned slightly under the weight of unwelcome muscle quakes.

Turning around, she bent over the bathtub and squeezed her dirty blonde hair, kneaded it, wringing excess water from her long tresses.

She felt Harmony brush up behind her, turned and fell into a tight hug.

“I missed you.” Harmony said, her voice possessing something uncharacteristic to the dusky Latin melody.

Reciprocating the embrace, Shelley patted Harmony’s back.

“What’s wrong, chick?” Shelley asked, releasing the hug.

“Nothing,” she said, looking down.

“Don’t lie to me, sister,” Shelley said, pressing her fingertips into Harmony’s cheeks. Feigning a playful anger, she teetered Harmony’s face side to side. “Why you so gwumpy?”

Fighting a small giggle, Harmony pushed Shelley’s hands away, turned and walked toward the toilet. Unrolling a small bit of paper in her hand, Harmony blew her nose.

Flushing the toilet, Harmony turned toward the mirror.

“You’re too good for this life, kid.”

“Yeah, well,” Shelley answered, pulling her gown over her head, “We both are. So what?”

“I mean it,” Harmony said, “You’re young. Get out. Get out while you can, okay? Get out and go meet a real man. Make some babies. Have the white picket fence. That whole 1950’s garbage.”

Shelley didn’t say it, but the idea of a home, husband and family was not garbage to her. She’d had it once, on a Marine base and minus the kids or picket fence.

“Why don’t we both get out?” Shelley said. “We’re roommates. We’re friends. Let’s go. Let’s just stop today. I’ve got my client tonight. I’ll email him and tell him the date’s off. We’ll just quit. We’ll be real 9 to 5er’s! It’ll be you and me against the world. And then we’ll find two rich brothers who’ll dote over us and cater to our every whim for the rest of our lives. We’ll die old, fat, ugly and oblivious, having the cabana boy bring us drinks in Maui. Whatchya think?”

“You lost me at ‘fat’, babe.”

Laughing, Shelley said, “Okay, forget the fat and no way you’ll be ugly, so we’ll just be old farts sitting on a beach with the aforementioned cabana boys.”

“So, when’s the meet and greet tonight?”

“He’s picking me up in an hour.”

“Okay, then,” Harmony winked. “We better get you dressed.”

Chapter 13

Thursday, October 13

7:59 p.m.

Exiting the inner Emergency area, Alex took a deep breath. Rubbing his eyes, his hands finding their way through his hair, he blew out a refreshing detox that, in truth, was ineffectual as more than a symbolic attempt at imploring sanity to manifest within.

He scanned the room. It was quite a bit busier than when he went back. Heavy with both people and emotion. Thick with fear, loathing, questions and doubt.

Even a former Navy SEAL recruit had his limits and it was clear Josh had reached his for the moment.

Sitting beside him, Alyson held his arm and did her best to console him. Across the way, his knees almost touching Josh’s, Alex sat. He took his hand, causing Josh to momentarily pull back. Without saying a word, Alex reached for his hand again.

“It’s okay,” Alyson said, tilting her head to his opposite shoulder.

Quietly, Alex signaled for Kellan to join them. Before long, everyone gathered in a circle. Everyone except Rance Remington, who seemed lost, confused all of the sudden.

“Mr. Remington?” Alex whispered. “Will you join us?”

His face flushed just slightly. “Yeah.”

As Alex bowed his head, someone cleared his throat. Opening his eyes, Alex caught sight of Pastor Highland.

“Pastor!” he said, letting go of the hands he was holding. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Tom called me.” Pastor Highland whispered, shaking Alex’s hand. “Been feeling a bit out of sorts, myself. Still finding my footing, which is weird for me. Alex, I hope I didn’t overstep my—“

“Certainly not, Pastor!” Alex said, “I’m very glad to see you. I guess Chief Steelman told you about Moe?”

“Heart attack, he said,” Highland confirmed.

Alex nodded.

“Sir, would you lead us in prayer?” Josh asked.

“Son, I’ll join hands, but if it is all the same to everyone, I think Alex was about to pray. You speak the words of your heart, son. I’ll pray when you’re done.”

Alex smiled. “I’m not sure what I was going to say, but I’ll think of something.”

Squeezing in, Pastor Highland found a spot between Kellan and Alyson.

The circle complete, Alex bowed his head and prayed.

“…Lord, we thank you for bringing Moe Sutton into our lives. He’s been a blessing and a gift to all of us. Father, we thank you that you have spared his life today and we ask You to let Your healing to continue to flow through Moe’s body. We ask You to strengthen Josh and the rest of Moe’s family. Comfort them, Lord, that You are in control. We thank You and praise You, Father. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

Alex was more than a little shocked when Josh reached over and gave him a one-arm hug.

“I appreciate that,” he said.

Shaking his hand, placing another on his shoulder, Alex said, “He’s okay now. We had a little scare, but he’s okay now. I for one have had a majorly long day. He looked good though. I’m glad they let us go back and see him.”

“You heading home now?” Alyson asked.

“Yeah, I’m glad Lisa didn’t wait around, but I’m sure she’ll be waiting for a report.”

Alex rose, turned, then turned back around. Hugged Alyson. Turned to shake hands with Kellan Arthur.

“You call your mom?” Alex asked, looking at Josh.

Josh nodded. “Called everybody. Mom, my sister.”

Turning more in Josh’s direction, Alex continued, “Hang in there. Call me if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, Josh said, “Call me if there’s any developments on this case.”

“Baring nothing crazy tonight, meet me at the station in the morning. Oh Eight Hundred.”

Over the hospital intercom, a female voice paged two doctors to the Emergency Room. Frenzied personnel in various hospital uniforms suddenly filled the area. In seconds, Emergency and nearby areas more closely resembled a frantic beehive than a hospital waiting area.

Josh stood, grabbed a dark-haired male in navy scrubs.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, sir.” The young man said, his deep voice filled with an unavoidable panic.

“I am FBI Agent Josh Sutton.” Josh’s teeth gritted. Alex noticed his grip on the man’s arm tightening just a bit. “I have an uncle back there. Moe Sutton. Now you go back there and you find out if my uncle is okay. And you get back here in 10 minutes or I will make sure you never work in this or any other hospital again. You hear?”

He nodded.

Letting the man’s arm go, Josh finished off, “And if anyone has an issue with that, you inform them that they are dealing with the United States Government!”

The man said nothing, but hurried through the emergency room doors, nervously fumbling for his security badge. As he disappeared, Kellan and Josh traded nervous looks as they watched a number of medical personnel scurrying about the innards of the emergency area.

“I think you scared him.” Kellan chuckled.

“Nah,” Josh said, turning back toward the group. “He’s military. I didn’t scare him. But he will do what he’s told. I think I put a sense of urgency in him.”

“How do you know he’s military?”

“You see that look in his eye?”

“Yeah. He looked like he was about to wet his pants.”

“No. He looked like he was memorizing the orders of his boss. The U.S. Government.”

“Technically,” Alex said, “Isn’t the president his boss?”

“President’s not here,” Josh said, “In his absence, I’m boss!”

The same female voice paged another doctor to a different floor. She immediately followed up paging a different doctor to the nursery.

Alex turned to sit back down.

“What are you doing?” Alyson asked.

“I’ll wait and make sure Moe’s okay.”

“No,” Josh said, his demeanor softening. “You go on. If anything happens, I’ll call you.”

“Hey, this place went from zero to sixty in two seconds. I think I’ll stick around a bit, just to make sure.”

No sooner had Alex finished his sentence then the young man in the Navy scrubs came back through the emergency doors.

“Sir,” he said, almost militarily so, “Your uncle is fine. We had a person code, but it was an elderly gentleman brought in around the same time as your uncle. I spoke with your uncle and he said to tell you – and I’m quoting – put your big boy britches on and get back to work.”

Laughing, Josh said, “That’s Uncle Moe alright!” He patted the young man on the back, thanked him. The young man nodded and disappeared back through the doorway, stopping only to swipe his badge over the security sensor.

“Okay,” Alex said, “I’m taking off before anything else happens.”

“See you in the morning,” Kellan offered.

“Ditto,” Josh said.

“Will do.”

Chapter 14

Thursday, October 13

10:03 p.m.

Home. No matter which way you slice it, Glinda the good witch was right. There was no place like home. The kids in bed, Alyson at the hospital and Mother Mendez reading silently in her room as always, Alex immersed himself in his loving wife. Reclining on the couch, the ten o’clock news playing softly in the background, Alex wrapped his arms around Lisa and held her. Few words were spoken. Love doesn’t need words.

Laying against him, her head on Alex’s chest, Lisa let go a contented sigh.

“I sometimes forget how much I miss you when you’re gone,” Lisa whispered.

Alex hugged her tight, traced the lines of her back with his fingers.

“Life gets so busy,” she continued, hugging him so tight that he groaned slightly. “Mine. Mine. Mine.” Her voice disappeared behind an almost child-like excitement, not unlike Christina on Christmas Morning.

Brushing his fingers through her hair, Alex kissed Lisa on the top of the head.

“I love you, Mrs. Mendez.”

Raising her face, she kissed his chin.

“I love you too, Mr. Mendez. Might I say, though, you need a shave.”

He didn’t exactly need a shave, but he’d been in a hurry to make the press conference that morning. Normally a stickler for time, he’d neglected to plan his morning appropriately. As a result, he’s managed to miss a spot or three. Given how rushed he was, he was just happy he’d remembered to brush his teeth.

“When confronted at the press conference, Acting Police Captain Alex Mendez had this to say to several of the female journalists in the audience.”

Jennifer Greyson’s lead jarred Alex out of his sense of contentment. Without thinking, he sat straight up, causing Lisa to lurch back, wince.

The screen filled with a news graphic of a tape recorder. Overlaying it was the transcript of a quote from the press conference. A highly edited version of what Alex had actually said.

“Last time I checked, there’s only one badge between the two of us. Safety is often compromised when some dogged story seeker puts the scoop above the personal welfare of the public they serve. I don’t want our next meeting to be over your dead body.”

“That’s not what I said!” He seemed to be willing Jennifer Greyson to hear him in her newsroom.

“What did you say?” Lisa asked.

“I gave her a bit of a lecture. Told her that she needed to put the safety of the community ahead of the story. She edited that all to heck!”

On the TV, Jennifer Greyson’s face appeared, covered in a very satisfied smile.

“I attempted to contact the station to allow Acting Captain Mendez to apologize, but he has not returned my phone calls as of this newscast. While I have often tried to keep my personal thoughts out of the stories on which I report, my dealings with Captain Mendez have not left me with a sense of calm. Not only does he threaten women. He also gives false leads and creates a needless sense of panic in the community. In this reporter’s opinion, the absence of Captain Danny Peterson at the helm has created a massive leadership deficiency.”

“I’ll kill her!”

Taking Lisa by the hand, Alex said, “Easy there, Hulkster! Let’s not run wild on this chick just yet! She’s just baiting me because she got her tail chewed. It’ll pass.”

His phone rang in his shirt pocket. He opened it and pressed talk without even looking to see who it was.

“Mendez!”

“Alex? You see Greyson’s news report?”

“Yeah, Danny. I saw it,” he chuckled. “You should have warned me about her.”

“What did you do, man? Why are you threatening people, Acting Captain?”

“Don’t start that stuff, Danny! I’m doing the best job I know how. I did not threaten her. Like any good cop would do, I advised her to leave the cop work to me and to remain vigilant. I have a hundred witnesses that will back me up, including Kellan and the chief. She edited the daylights out of that audio and I’m going to handle it.”

“Well, the mayor called me, for whatever reason, during that little fiasco of a broadcast. Apparently, Greyson is the niece of one of the city council members. Son, you’ve opened up a can of worms with that girl.”

“Well, any time you want the job back, Boss, just say the word!”

It took only a second of silence for Regret to stab Alex right in the gut.

“Sorry, Danny. I didn’t mean that like it came out.”

“I gotta go, Alex,”

“Love you, Bro.” Alex’s said, matching the deflated tone in Danny’s goodbye.

He heard the click just as Lisa chimed in, “Love you, Danny!”

Clapping his phone shut, Alex’s throat let go a graveled rumble.

“I take it Danny saw the news?”

Alex nodded.

Lisa took his hand in hers, kissed it.

“I love you, Babe.”

Squeezing her hand, Alex reaffirmed his mutual affection.

“I love you too.”

“Don’t sound so excited about it.” Lisa whispered, winking. Sliding up next to him, she grabbed his wrist and wrapped his arm around her.

“This really makes me mad.” Alex whispered, turning his head toward the dimly-lit foyer.

“Give it to God, Babe.” Lisa whispered. “Isn’t that what the Bible says? Let’s see. What was it Pastor Leonard said this Sunday? Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.  Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”

“Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” Alex replied.

Kissing his cheek, Lisa whispered, “See? Let go and let God. Don’t tell God how big your problems are. Tell your problems how big your God is.”

“You read that on a T-shirt?” Alex asked.

Looking away, she chuckled, “Bumper sticker.”

“I’ll never let you go.” Alex said, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“Sweet deal!” Lisa replied. “I’d hate to have to kill you in your sleep.”

He sighed when his phone vibrated again.

“Let’s see who else wants to chew on me today. Oh, it’s the chief.”

Placing her hand on Alex’s chest, Lisa smiled. “Love you, Babe. Remember that.”

“Mendez!” he said, nodding to her as he answered his phone.

“Hey, Alex, we have a problem.”

Behind him, Alex could hear Joey crying.

Standing up, Lisa motioned that she was heading to check on the baby. Alex waved and nodded. Blew her a kiss.

“I know, Chief.”

“You know? How’d you know? I just found out before I called you.”

“Uh, okay.” Alex raised a curious eyebrow. “What problem are you talking about?”

An uncomfortable pause was quickly shattered.

“Alex, we have another body.”

Chapter 15

Thursday, October 13

10:47 p.m.

It was an incredibly cool night, even for Fall. A shiver traveling up Alex’s spine remind him, over and over, that he’d neglected to grab a jacket. Looking around as he exited his car, he was relieved that he wasn’t the only one who’d been surprised by this unseasonably cold evening. Medical Examiner Tabitha Wagner was crouched over a blood-soaked body, which appeared to be lying amid a clump of pine and maple trees.

The chief had arrived, as had Reggie. Chief must have called him, Alex thought, noting he’d neglected to call in the rush to reach the crime scene. He watched, nostalgic, remembering when he’d first met the chief. Now, years later, he was still passing on his fatherly guidance. Careful as a kindergarten teacher showing her class how to write their name, Chief Steelman seemed to be guiding Reggie through paces he would have covered ad nauseam in academy. Perhaps out of respect, or perhaps out of a lack of attention during academy, Reggie seemed to hang on the chief’s every word, not unlike the kindergarten class might attend to the seemingly magical skill of their instructor. Though more than 8 cops and at least 3 medical professionals were in the area, there was no sign of either Kellan or Josh.

“Is everybody wearing gloves?” Alex shouted to the entire group.

Behind him a floodlight came on, illuminating the wooded area.

Looking around, everyone seemed to be gesturing they had gloves on. A few shouted to the affirmative.

“Hey Tabby.” Alex said, meeting the medical examiner who’d rose to greet him. “Don’t suppose you have any spare gloves in my size?”

Smiling, she nodded.

“Porter!” she shouted to her assistant. “Bring Captain Mendez some gloves, will you? Size large.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Janelle Porter called, from the inside of the medical van.

“New kid,” Tabby said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t bring you small ones.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex said, “we were all newbies once, Tab.” He motioned to Reggie.

“Speak for yourself, Alex,” she laughed. “I was born with formaldehyde in my veins.”

“You know,” Alex quipped. “I actually believe that about you.”

Janelle Porter appeared and offered the gloves to Alex.

She was a young thing. Fresh-faced. Almost baby faced. Chipmunk cheeks held huge blue eyes in place and, though her blond locks were currently pulled into a ponytail, Alex surmised that her hair was perhaps a touch past the shoulders. While not fat by any means, her teenage body was in possession of an unmistakable roundness. Standing next to the athletic redhead for whom she worked, smiling brightly, her face made up as if she was going on a date, Janelle Porter gave no indication of the morbid profession with which she was interning.

“Thank you, Miss Porter.”

“Welcome!” she said, smiling. “And I got him the right size, Aunty!” she said, nudging her boss.

Tabby coughed, “Heard that did ya?” She winked at Alex. Janelle walked back to the truck to whatever duties she was attending.

“Where’d you find that little thing?” Alex asked.

“She’s my sister’s kid.” Tabby said. “Good kid, really. Smart as a whip. She won’t be with me for long.”

“Shouldn’t she be in school? College or something.”

“She was home schooled.” Tabby replied. “She has been saving money for college. Working different jobs. Not really sure what she wants to do with her life. Came out here to visit. Asked if she could help out.”

“So, what have we got here?” Alex said, motioning to the body.

“Female. Brunette. Very pretty. As pretty as a dead body can be, I guess. She was found naked. But, I heard the chief say there were no signs of rape. I’ll have to get her back to my office before I can confirm that independently.”

“How’d she die?”

“Best I can tell you now, Alex, is that she went down fighting.”

“She put up a struggle?” Alex asked.

“It would appear that way. We have some scratches on her. Some defensive wounds. Her nose is broken, unlike the previous victims. Whoever our guy is, he left this place knowing he’d been in a fight.”

Turning to the scene, Alex let himself take it all in. Even under the floodlights, it was difficult to assess every detail but, whoever this guy was, he had deviated from his usual game.

The corner of Hughes and Eastman was one of the busier intersections in Longview. The movie theater was two blocks east. Restaurant Row – what the townspeople called a 3-mile strip of highway 80 – was barely the same distance to the west. The police station and justice center were to the north, several miles away, but it was a straight shot up Eastman, a zig and a zag.

Approaching the victim, Alex could not escape the question. Why change? Is the thrill going out of it? Is he wanting to be caught? Is he daring police? Challenging the officers to a new game? Whatever it was, something did not add up. What’s next, he thought to himself. A body on my front patio?

“Time of death?” Alex asked the chief as he knelt down.

“Not long, Alex.”

“Ms. Wagner says she’s been here less than a half an hour.” Reggie added.

“How is it we’re minutes behind this guy?” Alex asked. “What do we have to do to get ahead of him?”

“Tabby says there’s signs of a struggle?”

“Yes,” the chief said. “It would appear we had ourselves a determined young lady here.”

“Makes sense.” Reggie offered, taking notes in his notebook.

“Meaning?” asked the chief.

Stumbling for words, Reggie Brooks seemed to go pale. “I—Um, Chief, I’m sorry. I—Uh, I only…”

“Breathe, son,” the chief said, patting him on the back. “You have a hunch you’d like to share?”

“N-No sir.” Reggie stammered. “I just meant that it made sense that she put up a fight. She’s tall. And she’s Latina.”

A disapproving look from the chief caused Reggie’s eyes to grow uneasy.

“Sorry, Chief. My girlfriend is Latina. She’s got 4 sisters. I’m just speaking from experience. You don’t go up against a Latina chick unless you want a fight on your hands.”

Smiling, Chief Steelman patted Reggie Brooks on the back.

“Attaboy, Reggie!” he laughed. “Now you’re getting it.”

Letting go an uneasy chuckle, Reggie asked, “Getting what, sir?”

“Experience, son. Go with it. Why didn’t you think of that, Alex?” Chief Steelman winked at him.

“My only brother died years ago, Chief. And I married a gringa!” Alex replied.

“I hope I, um,” Reggie stammered, trying to find his thoughts. “I don’t mean to offend.”

“So, are there any tire tracks or anything?” Alex asked, patting Reggie on the shoulder.

“A few.” the chief said. “The road is paved, but with the construction having just wrapped, there are still several patches that lend themselves to tire imprints. And we’ll run them all. But I suggest it’ll probably be a dead end. Heck, I travel this road myself. Brought the Highlands out here for dinner a couple nights ago.”

“We have to assume this could be a copycat killer,” Alex asserted. “The previous victims weren’t beat. This was off. This wasn’t his usual M.O. Too violent, even for him.”

“Well, if your rookie’s theory holds water, it could have been his first mistake. It could be he just messed with the wrong gal.”

“Hey, Chief!” Reggie said, tilting the body just so. “Look at this!”

And there it was. The windy night had blown it off the body. Or perhaps the windy night had caused the perp to place it underneath the body. Maybe he’d dropped it in the struggle. Whatever the case, the calling card was there for all to see.

“Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire.” Alex read.

“Jude 1:7,” the chief finished off.

“Think this means he’s moving on to surrounding cities?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know,” The chief admitted. “Maybe a reference to past killings? But we’ll have to alert the feds and we’ll spread the word to the surrounding counties. It could simply be a warning that we’ll see blood ‘like the surrounding cities’ or like the cities he’s been to before. Go ahead and bag it, Reggie.”

Reggie Brooks nodded, produced an evidence bag and sealed the evidence away.

“Maybe his work is done here. Or maybe it’s just a warning that we’re being punished like the other cities this wacko’s been to.”

“He’s never killed more than three in a city.”

Cade’s voice caused all of them to jump.

“Agent Cade,” Chief Steelman said, extending his hand. “How are you? Where’s Agent Sutton?”

“He’s still at the hospital with his uncle.” Cade replied.

“So you say that he’s never killed more than three in a city before?” Alex asked.

“So far,” Cade said, nodding. “That is correct.”

“So, your gut is saying he’s moving on?”

“My gut,” Cade replied, “is telling me to assume he’s not done here. But, I think you are right to prepare the surrounding counties. He’s never killed more than 3 in any one city, but he’s never had a fighter till now. His ‘record’, if you will, has been tarnished. We could assume he’d want a ‘do-over’.”

Touching Agent Cade on the arm, Captain Steelman walked away from the body. Alex assumed they were likely to be headed to make those calls.

“So, Reg,” Alex said, turning his attention back to the victim. “We’ve already established she’s a tall Latina. What other particulars do we have?”

“Well, she’s 5’9 to be exact. Rap sheet says she goes by the name Harmony Winters. Gave another name of Marisol Velasquez once. Going to run it when I get back to the station and see if that’s her birth name or an alias. We have her probation officer listed in her file. We’ll contact him to verify the address then check it out.”

“I don’t want you to wait to verify it, Reg.” Alex said. “Have a couple uniforms check the house out tonight. See if anyone’s there. Interview the neighbors. Anyone that’s awake. Don’t wake the neighbors. We can do that tomorrow. Call the probation officer tonight. Tell them I told you to.”

“Yes sir.” Reggie said.

“Do it now, Reg.” Alex prodded. “Head back to the station. I’ll finish up here. I want to check some things out and get this wrapped up so the M.E. can have the body. It’s gonna be a long night. No sense in making it any longer.”

Nodding, Reggie Brooks stood and walked toward his car.

“Now,” Alex said, “Let’s see what we have here.”

Bruising on the neck suggested a real struggle. Taking out his flashlight, Alex noticed something shiny protruding from the neck. Looking closer, Alex smiled. Reaching for Reggie’s field kit, Alex extracted tweezers and a small evidence bag. He also took the small camera from the kit. Placing the tweezers next to the object for reference, Alex snapped the picture and carefully replaced the camera.

With expert precision, Alex removed a long metal needle from the open wound. As he thought, it was the needle.

“We got you now,” Alex whispered. Speaking directly to the victim, Alex added, “I will find who did this to you, honey. I promise.”

“Hey, Cade?” Alex shouted, motioning toward him and the chief.

Trotting toward Alex, Cade’s flashlight bobbled in his hand, smacking Alex on the head as it flew from his sweaty palm.

“Sorry, Alex.” Cade said, picking up his light. “What can I do for you?”

“Look at this.” Alex said, showing them the bagged needle.

“What is that?” The chief asked.

“A needle, Chief.” Alex smiled. “There’s got to be a way to trace the brand, manufacturer or something. We’ll log it into our chain of evidence just for records, but if you’ll authorize it, Chief, I’d like to turn this over to Cade and have the feds run tests on it.”

“I’ll sign off on it now,” Chief Steelman said, grabbing the bag and initialing it. “I’ll make sure to stay in contact with Josh so that we can have everybody in the loop. Good work, Alex.”

“Hate to say this, Chief, but we can thank our victim here. She went down fighting and we may be the reason we catch this guy.”

The wind picked up, forcing the scent of death into Alex’s nostrils. Looking at the dead body of a prostitute, Alex saw something more. Looking with his eyes he saw a case that needed to be solved. Looking with his heart, he saw a hero that had sacrificed herself to help him do it.

Resisting the urge to touch her hair, even with a gloved hand, Alex found himself overwhelmed with a feeling he’d never felt before. Edging closer to the body just slightly, as solemn and respectful as one could be, Alex whispered something to a victim he had never said.

“Thank you.”

Chapter 16

Friday, October 14

8:33 a.m.

Reggie Brooks might have been green. He may very well have been the most unconfident rookie Alex had ever trained. But there was no doubt about it, Reggie Brooks was a living, breathing, walking, talking, perfect example of being yin to his own yang. What he lacked in confidence, he more than made up for in being thorough.

When Alex arrived the next morning, he found his desk stacked with reports from Reggie Brooks. Internet searches on various caustic substances. He had even located the manufacturer of the needle and syringe in evidence. He had expounded, in great detail, on conversations with Lonnie Wilkes, the probation officer of their latest victim. He had even taken it upon himself to contact probation officers of the previous victims. Not only those in Longview but in other towns, in an attempt to track down anything connecting the victims, other than their occupation. Judging by the report, it didn’t appear any of the victims had the slightest connection. Eager to please, aspiring officer Reggie Brooks had gone above and beyond the call of duty.

“Good Job, Reg,” Alex whispered, to his empty office, as he read report after report on what had apparently been a busy night for Reggie Brooks.

Alex jumped when the air conditioning kicked on, causing a crackle to echo through the room as the air pressure rapidly changed.

He followed up with Lonnie Wilkes, whom he’d had known for the last three or four years. It was both a chance to catch up with a friend and, in truth, to reaffirm the thoroughness of his rookie.

He liked Reggie. Had great respect for him as a person. But there was something. For all Reggie’s eagerness to please, Alex began to wonder what would he be like absent the watchful eye of trainers, superiors and occupational babysitters. What would he do unchecked? Would he maintain the same level of eagerness? Would he own an investigation with which he was given lead? Would he respect the integrity of the evidence chain and, perhaps most important of all, would he keep the air of duty and professionalism that compelled all police officers worth their salt to stay around long enough to get their tiny pensions and gold watches?

Alex had his doubts. But, in all fairness, it was a blink of an eye since he’d been the nervous rookie so critically scrutinized.

What must Danny have thought, Alex chuckled to himself. They’d talked about it a time or two, but Danny had never really revealed his first impressions. Alex’s first impression of Danny was that he was tough, but that he lived by his own set of rules. He was by the book to be sure. But, over the years, Alex had realized that ‘the book’ Danny was reading was not exactly standard police issue. Still, it worked. And made him an effective teacher. Alex had trained numerous rookies through the years, but each time one fact remained glaringly obvious. He was no Danny Peterson.

Shuffling through the stack of reports and research compiled by his trainee, Alex knew that another truth was staring him in the face. Just as Alex was incapable of ever being Danny, so, too, was Reggie Brooks incapable of ever being Alex.

Today, here, right now, Reggie Brooks was a thorough cop. He dotted the I’s and crossed all the T’s. He had all the potential to be captain someday as anyone else joining the force. For all Alex knew, he was staring at the man who would someday occupy the chair currently assigned to Tom Steelman.

Alex was rocked out of his train of thought when the telephone rang.

“Captain Mendez!”

“Alex, it’s Tabby.”

“Hey, Tab,” Alex said, letting his tone relax just a bit. “Whatchya got for me?”

“Not much you don’t already know, Alex. But, when I started the autopsy on victim number 1, I did find some fibers that you might want.”

“What kind of fibers, Tabby?”

“My guess is trunk fibers? I don’t know if the victim was stuffed in the trunk. This one was a stray fiber attached to her undergarments. I’m not a cop, but it looks like a fiber from a trunk mat or something. Could be nothing, but thought I’d let you know just the same. Might want to send your trainee down here. It’d be a good chance for him to see an autopsy up close and personal anyway.”

“I appreciate it, Tabby.” Alex said, “I’ll come down there later myself. Reggie was up all night working, so I gave him the day off.”

“Well, when you do, bring that pretty wife of yours eh? I miss that gal like nobody’s business.”

Alex laughed.

“I’m sure she misses you too, Tabby. You should drop by and see her sometime. I know she’d love to visit with you.”

“She was always good to me,” Tabby said. “When I was new to the area, she showed me around. When Steve died, she called me every day for months. She was the one who encouraged me to step up when Longview built its own medical examiner’s office. When all that garbage happened with the police station and all, well, I just miss her is all.”

“I know, Tab.” Alex said. “I know that she appreciates all you did for her too. You two need a girl’s day.”

Sidetracked, Tabby said, “Hey that reminds me. Alex, victim number two was brutalized. I haven’t started the full autopsy yet, but what I can tell you is that her jaw was broken. Shattered is more likely. I’ll take X-rays today to verify that, but I’m pretty sure of it. If I had to guess, I’d say post mortem, but maybe just barely.”

“So, maybe an afterthought?”

“Well, I’m not a cop, but yeah. I know that the going theory is that she fought back. Maybe this was just a spontaneous outburst after she fell to the ground. There’s a bruising on one side that, I think, I just might be able to do something with.”

“Bruising?” Alex asked.

“I’m still working it, Alex, but I think I might be able to get something of a shoe imprint off this gal’s face.”

Fist pumping, Alex resisted the urge to let go a celebratory scream. “Tabby? When we get this guy, I’m buying your dinner!”

Laughing again, Tabby said, “Love you too, Alex. How about you just pay for that Girl’s Night with Lisa?”

“When we catch this sucker,” Alex said, “You’ve got a deal!”

“Alex, that’s not all.”

Alarmed by Tabby’s sudden change in tone, Alex stayed quiet.

“I’ve found something that wasn’t nearly as evident in the dark. Victim 1 is showing signs of decomposition that she shouldn’t be showing already. Like she’s been buried for weeks. This morning, Victim two.” She paused.

“What about Victim two, Tabby?”

“Well, there’s some, I don’t know what to call it, bubbling I guess? Around the puncture wound. It looks likes whatever was in that syringe didn’t make it inside her. From what I’ve read on this substance, getting it on her is enough to have it absorb into the body, but it doesn’t look like it did. My guess is it doesn’t work well on the dead body. Or maybe that syringe breaking meant it didn’t get much on her. We don’t have any clothing to test, unfortunately, but my best guess is that it was violently removed. Unlike victim number one, number two shows skin tears, lesions and abrasions suggesting that her clothes were violently torn from her body. She wasn’t raped. Preliminary inspection shows no signs of recent sexual contact, consensual or otherwise.”

“Our killer spilled the poison on himself and needed something to wipe it off!” Alex said, almost a bit too excitedly.

“That was my untrained theory, Alex. I think we have a wounded predator on our hands. It could send him into retirement. Or it could make him more dangerous. I’m no psychologist, but I’d be careful.”

“Thanks, Tabby. I’ll be by later for that evidence.”

As he hung up the phone, Alex returned to the various reports on his desk. Rifling through, he found crime scene photos of both victims, including the profiles of both. He couldn’t see bruising on the side profiled in the photo, but it could have been the lighting or, most likely, he just wasn’t looking at the right side.

Suddenly, his mind returned to the fighter who’d fallen victim to the brutal assault.

“Honey,” he whispered, just hoping that, wherever her spirit had gone, it was finding rest, “We got this sucker! I will bring him down. And I will make him pay.”

His phone rang again, flinching him out of his fugue.

“Captain Mendez,” he offered, struggling against the mental cacophony playing out before him in the flash of each victim’s face.

“Captain Mendez?” the female voice asked. There was an air of confidence about it that Alex instantly recognized.

“Mrs. Greyson,” he offered. The mixture of sarcasm and cordiality was in no way subtle. “How can I help your ratings again this find October morning?”

“I want an exclusive interview with you.”

He made no effort to muffle his bemusement at the suggestion.

“I’m serious,” she reiterated. “The public doesn’t know you. Not that they knew Captain Peterson much better. He was still known. They were comfortable with him. So, how about we declare a truce and you give me a chance to mea culpa? Just give me one hour and I’ll make sure the public loves you.”

“The only public that matters wants me to do my job, Mrs. Greyson. I have a killer on the loose and I need to find him.”

“You can’t spare an hour for the citizens of Longview?” she pressed. A sudden nervousness grew in his gut.

“I don’t know how to put this any other way except to say that I don’t have an hour to spare. I spend an hour with you and this guy kills somebody else. What then?”

“What then?” she asked. “What then, indeed.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Greyson. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“Sure you won’t change your mind?”

“No, I won’t change my mind. What would you have me do? Neglect my civic duty?”

“No,” she whispered, “I suppose not.”

“I could use your help, Mrs. Greyson. We’re on the same team. How about some team participation here?”

“What would you have me do?”

“I think you know the answer, Mrs. Greyson. I’d ask you to go easy on me. You are right. Nobody knows me. And I didn’t ask to have Danny’s job. He’s not just a colleague. He’s my best friend. I’d ask you to understand I’m giving this everything I have. I’m already fighting to catch a killer. Don’t make me fight the media too.”

“Whatever you say, Captain Mendez.”

“One other thing?” He loosened his tie a little as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yes?”

“If this ends up on tonight’s broadcast with some twisted words that I didn’t really say, you need to know that my chief not only heard our first conversation, but he’s been sitting here the whole time and can confirm every word I just said. Slander and Libel are very naughty things, Mrs. Greyson. A responsible journalist would be above those things. You ever pull a stunt like that again and I’ll have you in jail so fast your head will spin.”

“Threatening a pregnant woman?” she said, her voice filling with vindictive resentment.

“No, I’m not threatening anyone. A threat can be idle. I am stating a fact. If you don’t want your baby to be born in a jail cell, I suggest you stick to factual stories, not that tabloid garbage you tried to pull on me.”

“Duly noted,” she said, her voice steadily brimming with irritation.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Greyson.”

Without responding, she had ended the call.

As he went back over the conversation in his head, Alex mentally kicked himself several times for what could be another edited foot in the mouth moment.

Sighing, Alex opened up his email and sent the chief a detailed description of the conversation he’d just had. It wouldn’t do much good in the grand scheme of things, but he did have it on record now. And the timestamp would preempt any news report.

Better to be safe than sorry, he thought to himself.

Chapter 17

Friday, October 14

9:28 a.m.

With his trainee catching up on his rest, Alex decided to continue on himself. He still wasn’t used to the idea of being in charge. Despite holding the rank of Captain, he just wasn’t comfortable delegating duties for an investigation under his command. He was used to being a follower, although Danny had more than once told him that there existed some metaphorical list of officers who would have followed Alex into the worst of Hell. What he should have done was send officers to interview Shelley Ferguson. What he should have done was allowed Tabby to send a runner to his office, or send someone out there to follow up. But what he should have done wasn’t what he did.

When he pulled into the parking lot of the Medical Examiner’s office, Alex found himself amazed at the building’s appearance. Though built in the last month, the filthy brick structure looked as though it had been constructed decades ago. The lawn, though trimmed, was unkempt and the bushes were nothing short of scraggly. The blue-green opaque windows adorning the side of the building nearest him looked as though they had not enjoyed a washing in their entire existence, which wasn’t all that long, truth be told.

The sidewalks, too, were given way to spider web cracks that told of seriously shoddy workmanship or perhaps vandalism. Thus is the result of giving the contract to the lowest bidder.

As he entered through the huge glass doors, a sudden burst of cold air caused goose bumps to sprout on Alex’s uncovered forearms. He didn’t mind the cold. But the sudden shock of walking into a seemingly refrigerated building sent shivers to his very core. Rubbing his forearms, Alex took a split second to relish the burst of cool air.

Entering the main lobby, Alex saw Janelle Porter. Positioned directly to his left, the tiny blonde teen occupied a dark-stained, ornate desk that was – to Alex at least – far too large and stuffy for her. Dressed in blue jeans and a maroon and white shirt bearing the logo of the Texas A&M Aggies, Alex resisted the urge to throw her a thumbs-up and scream, “Gig ‘Em!”

“Hey, Janelle,” Alex offered, genuinely pleased to see her, “Is your aunty around?”

“Yes sir,” she confirmed, motioning to the double doors near the far end of the lobby. “I’ll buzz her and let her know you’re here.”

Picking up the receiver on her desk, Janelle keyed in the code that would buzz autopsy. After a few seconds, she quietly announced Alex’s arrival. Given the layout of the place, Alex was surprised by the lack of acoustic reverb.

“She said you could go on back.” Pointing to the doors at the far end, Janelle continued, “Through those doors, turn right and it’s the first left, I think. Unless she’s in the freezer, then it’s the end of the hall. But that might be wrong too.” She giggled. In other situations, Alex might be annoyed by this less than helpful set of directions. But, for some reason, Alex liked Janelle. And her giggle possessed something of a kindness that would largely have been missing in many other modern teens. A nervous apology, perhaps, for not possessing better knowledge of the M.E office’s inner workings.

“Got it,” Alex smiled, “Thanks.”

She just might be better than Tabby one of these days, Alex thought to himself.

“Captain Mendez? Can I ask you a question?”

Alex turned toward her.

“Sure,” he replied, taking a couple steps toward Janelle. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m just wondering what it’s like to be a cop. Do you enjoy it? Is it scary? Is it hard? I don’t know what to ask, really. I’m just curious. Sorry, I don’t mean to be so nosey. Just having a hard time trying to figure out what I want to be, yanno?”

“Well,” Alex said, trying to keep his tone both friendly and authoritative, “Do I enjoy it? Yes and no. I don’t enjoy standing over the dead bodies by any means. But I do enjoy it when I’m able to bring the perpetrators to justice. Is it scary? At times. Mostly, it’s paperwork, research and thinking outside the box. Meeting with your team members, networking with other agencies when necessary. The good thing about police work is that you have a lot of brothers and sisters to get your back when you need it. You’re never really alone. The down side is that, occasionally, one of the bodies you kneel over happens to be that of one of your Law Enforcement siblings. Honestly, that part sucks.”

When she looked unsatisfied by his answer, he continued, “You can always call the station and ask to do a ride-along some time. We have citizens do that rather frequently. Mostly, wannabe writers who are struggling to get the scene right in their latest book, but whatever works. If you want to do that, just tell them that you’re a personal friend of Captain Alex Mendez and they’ll hook you up.”

Smiling, she said, “Okay!”

“I’ll warn you now,” he said, “Riding along may well be the most boring thing you’ve ever done. I’ve never heard one person yet say that it was exciting.”

With her curiosity apparently satiated, Alex turned and headed into the innards of the Medical Examiner’s office.

Entering through the double doors, Alex found the inner hallway to be yet another shocking temperature change, albeit in the other direction. Almost instantly, a single bead of sweat gathered on his brow. As he entered the cool autopsy room, Alex was relieved by the goose bumps that had been such a shocking sensation just minutes ago.

While the temperature was welcoming, the scent of formaldehyde, body fluids and decomposition were nothing short of nauseating. More than once, Alex struggled against the urge to empty the contents of his breakfast on the seemingly sterile tiled floors.

“Alex, how are you?” Tabby said, looking up from her latest autopsy. She was wearing a face shield, latex gloves and a plastic or paper apron over what appeared to be medical scrubs. Her hair was pulled back and rolled into a single bun on the back of her head.

“Doing good, Tabby,” he confirmed. “I’ll be doing better if you’ll tell me you’ve caught this killer for me.”

Chuckling to herself, Tabby continued to work on the body of Marisol Velasquez, AKA Harmony Winters.

“You can come closer,” Tabby said, noting Alex’s trepidation. “She won’t bite.”

“Not worried about her,” Alex chuckled.

“I won’t bite either, Alex. Lisa’d knock my teeth out.”

Laughing, Alex nodded, “Yeah. That she would. So, what have we got?”

Pulling back an opening in the chest cavity, Tabby removed a portion of the intestines.

“What we have is a woman who worked out a lot and was not into junk food. Her colon is the healthiest I’ve ever seen.”

“You bring me down her to show me her colon, Tab?”

Motioning for Alex to bend down, she handed him a mask. Placing the mask over his face, he asked, “Help me out here? What am I looking for?”

“See the lungs?”

“Uh yeah, those two big things right there? I took A&P in college, Tab.”

“Notice anything strange about them?”

“Bones,” he said, in his best DeForrest Kelley impression, “I’m a detective, not a doctor!”

“The lung tissue is anything but new. Former smoker, it’d be black. This is not black. Her lung tissue died. The same for the heart. Her heart tissue showed signs of necrosis. It is almost blistered. Minor, but definitely there. At first look, I would have diagnosed her with some form of plague. With the information from the FBI, I know what happened, but whoever did this is cruel. If what I’ve been reading about hydrofluoric acid is true, none of these victims died quickly.”

“He wanted them to suffer?”

“He wanted them to be in anguish.” Tabby said. “This would have literally eaten them alive from the inside out. Victim 1 had more in the system, I’m guessing. Lungs were almost greenish white. Exhibited a puffy nature. Vic 2 showed less degradation of tissue. The mix is strong, so the victim dies before much damage can be done, but a stronger circulatory system and the victim could suffer for minutes. Upwards of an hour, maybe. I think that’s what happened with victim number one. She was likely in a lot of pain. She would have eventually struggled to breathe, but her nervous system would have also been in chaos. Until the organ tissue of the lungs and heart just died. I haven’t gotten to the brain yet, but I expect to find much the same thing. Alex, you are dealing with an evil person. He doesn’t want to kill. He wants to steal their lives from them while they watch. He wants to destroy them, slowly.”

“That your professional opinion?” Alex asked.

“I’m not a trained psychiatrist or profiler, but yes. You are dealing with somebody who has a lot of rage. I would look for someone who wasn’t popular in school. Someone who was abused, of course. Abuse is common among most who kill. But I think we’re talking rejection here.”

“But why target prostitutes? And why would he leave bible verses at the scene?”

“Hmmmm…” Tabby stopped working on Marisol Velazquez and covered her with a sheet. Turning her back to Alex, she triggered the sink with her foot and washed the human fluids off of her gloved hands. Grabbing paper towels, she carefully removed the gloves and wrapped them in the paper towels before grabbing a clean pair of gloves and transferring the soiled wad into a hazardous material bag. Sealing it tightly, she threw the bag into an orange container and washed her hands, scrubbing rather briskly.

“Obsess much?” Alex joked.

“Can’t be too careful with that stuff,” Tabby said, absently. “Alex, this stuff maims. It kills. It ruins tissue. You get this stuff on your epidermis and you will probably live, but you will not want to. You’ll be in pain. A lot of pain. And, very likely disfigured for the rest of your life. I know it’s not what I get paid for, but I’ve honestly been asking myself why this person is injecting such a solution when torturing these girls by making them live disfigured would almost seem the more evil course of action.”

“Getting inside his head now, Tab?”

“It’s just strange to me, Alex. This person has a motive. You don’t just randomly come by Hydrofluoric Acid in liquid form. From what I have read, it has to be manufactured. And manufactured carefully to be safe and of any use.”

“All you need is a badge and a gun, kid.” Alex said. “You’re ready for the force.”

“There’s more, Alex.”

“Okay?”

Handing him her file on the Marisol Velazquez, Tabby said, “The syringe broke. I’m betting that, unless this person was wearing gloves, he got it on him.”

“Tabby, I think I love you! If I wasn’t married, I’d—“

Turning toward the exit, Tabby said, “Follow me, Alex.”

“Where we going?”

“My office,” she said, heading for the hallway. “I think you and I need to compare notes on this fella.”

Chapter 18

Friday, October 14

10:51 a.m.

Alex arrived at the apartment shared by Shelley Ferguson and Marisol Velazquez just as a rush of people seemed to be entering. Judging by the coveralls on one man and the patch on the back advertising the plumbing company for which he worked, many of them seemed to be heading home for an early lunch. Another woman in a waitress uniform had not yet removed her apron, though she’d driven home from the restaurant either without thinking about it or lacking sufficient energy to care.

The apartment building itself was in reasonably good shape, given the part of town in which it rested. Alex could see a couple of suspicious-looking characters standing at the end of the block. They’d “made” him as a cop long ago and were very likely just waiting to see what sort of action was going to go down today.

Today, however, he was less concerned with the petty criminality going on in this part of town than with solving the murders of citizens deemed unworthy of life by some self-appointed god to the subjugated masses of Longview. Still, he radioed for a nearby patrol car to make a pass or two, just to shake things up a bit.

Satisfied he’d taken care of this minor annoyance, Alex entered the apartment complex where, he hoped, Shelley Ferguson would be.

After a confusing search and a dead end, he finally found the right door.

When he knocked, he heard no greeting from the inside. There was no peephole, so the person had no way of knowing who he was. So, he was a little surprised when a person he assumed to be Shelley Ferguson opened the door, rubbed sleep from her eyes and greeted him warmly. She was dressed in a flannel button-up shirt that might well belong to some burly lumberjack. It hung just low enough to almost mask the red and black shorts she was wearing.

When he showed his badge, he noticed Shelley Ferguson grew noticeably stiff. Whatever brain fog might have followed her from the land of slumber, she was – or at least appeared to be – wide awake.

“What can I do for you, sir?” she said, feigning both innocence and a flirtiness that would not be uncommon in her chosen profession.

“Ma’am, are you Shelley Ferguson?”

“I, uh—” she began trembling.

“Ma’am?”

“Uh, yes, I—Uh it’s difficult to—“

“Ms. Ferguson, I’m not here to—“

“Bella,” she finally said. “Please. Bella Winters. Everyone around here knows me as Bella.”

“Ma’am, if I could come inside, I’d like to speak to you in private.”

“Surely,” she said, backing away from the door. Her face appeared nervous, but she did her best to hide it.

Opening the door, she headed toward the living room, leaving Alex to close the door behind him.

“So, what’s this about?” Shelley asked.

“Where were you last night between the hours of 8 p.m. and 2 a.m. this morning?”

“I was at home.” She said, suddenly flashing frustration. “What is this about? You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“Bella! I’m not a Ma’am! Ma’am’s are old!”

“Ms. Winters, I—“

“Call me Bella,” she whispered, albeit a demanding one. “I’m seriously starting to—” suddenly she broke off. Her eyes filled with tears. “No.” she said, shaking her head.

“Ms. Win—Uh Bella, I—”

She crashed to her sofa and reached for her cell phone placed on the end table nearby.

Pressing a series of buttons, she placed the phone to her ear. In seconds, Alex heard the voicemail pick up, though he couldn’t make out what was said.

“Harm, call me, Babe. Miss you.”

When Alex reached for the phone, Shelley Ferguson, AKA Bella Winters, did not flinch or resist. Ending the call, he took a seat in the chair next to the couch.

“I’m sorry Ms…” he paused and took a breath. When she reached out to take his hand, Alex almost pulled back, knowing that it was not the most professional thing in the world. For some reason, he could not pull back. Something inside Daddy Alex took over and, for a moment, all he wanted to do was help this poor girl. A lost soul who, by all accounts had one person in the world. And that one person was no more. Though it might not have been very professional of him, Alex held her hand.

She did not wail. She did not scream. She only wept. Without having heard the words, she knew.

“Who?” she whispered, her throat spasmodic in the attempt.

“We’re working every angle,” Alex said, “I need to ask you some questions. It’s not going to be easy. But I have to. I need to find who did this awful thing.”

“What do you care?” Bella said, in a flash of white-hot anger. “You know what she was. I’m sure you’ve seen her record. Why do you care?”

“Bella,” Alex said, “It’s my job to care. Your friend did not have to die. Someone is killing women who are—uh, professional escorts—“

“I’ve been called many things, but never a professional escort!” Bella laughed.

“Bella, look, what you have done or what line of work you’re in is for another day, to be honest. You’re a woman who has lost a friend and, yes, a potential witness. I do care. I saw your friend. She was beautiful. And I can tell that she was strong.”

“Not strong enough,” Bella whispered, turning her gaze back toward the window.

Not wanting to push, Alex remained silent, allowing Bella Winters – AKA Shelley Ferguson – to have her moment.

“Did it hurt?” Bella asked, her voice still quivering as more tears suddenly flowed. “Did she suffer?”

“All I can tell you,” Alex said, leaning forward, “Is that she fought with everything she had. She got some of his skin under her nails. She kicked and clawed and punched and did everything in her power to escape, but…”

“But it wasn’t enough.” Bella finished.

“Again, I am very sorry. Is there anything you can tell me about where she was last night? What she might have been doing? Who she might have been with? Did you talk to her or—”

“Oh my God, no!”

Bella shot up from the couch and headed toward the window, Instinctively, Alex gave chase, thinking she was trying to make a break for it. When she stopped at the window, Alex stopped, stared at her and slowly approached, realizing she had suddenly burst into hysterics.

“Bella, what’s wrong,” Alex said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

“It should have been me!”

She turned to meet Alex’s face. Her eyes were red. Her face near purple. Tears soaked her cheeks and her nose was beginning to run.

“I’m sorry,” Alex repeated. “But there was nothing you could have done if you’d been there. You’d have been killed too.”

“I should have been!” she screamed, collapsing to the floor. Burying her face, she erupted with tortured screams. Approaching her, Alex could see her back and shoulders spasming under the weight of the news. “Oh my God, I killed Harmony!”

Chapter 19

Friday, October 14

11:07 a.m.

When Bella Winters recalled speaking to someone the night before, Alex had to fight back an almost giddy excitement. Hoping to play it safe, Bella and Harmony had agreed to always log the conversations they had over the computer, especially with potential clients. The world had gotten very dark, Bella had lamented to Alex – a comment he found ironic on many levels.

“Oh no!” Bella screamed, sifting through the list of chat logs from the past month. “I didn’t log it! I must have forgotten to turn it on!”

Trying not to show his frustration, Alex forced a comforting smile, “It’s okay. Rest assured we’ll work the case with every whisper of evidence we uncover.”

“Wait!” she screamed, feverishly toping and tinkering with various windows on the desktop. She opened several folders, scanned, closed them before Alex could scarcely tell what she was searching.

“I found it!” she said, nearly jumping out of her chair as the image began to open. It was a man with dark hair. A square jaw the only manly feature about his otherwise soft face. His hair was thick black and the complexion was Mediterranean.

He saw no malice in the eyes of the man pictured. He didn’t get a cold chill or feel as if he were staring into the eyes of some reincarnated Hitler. Yet there was something about the picture that left Alex uneasy. Searching the eyes on the screen before him, Alex’s mouth worked faster than his brain.

“I got you now, sucker!” he whispered, catching a raised brow from Bella Winters. “Can I get a printout of this photo? And while you’re at it, can you E-mail it to me?”

“Sure,” Bella said. Alex gave her his E-mail address. “There you go,” she said, just as the printer warmed up.

“You’re good with computers,” Alex said, almost absently.

“Everyone’s good with computers these days,” Bella said, grimacing.

Chuckling, Alex shook his head, “Not me, kid. I’m an old dog. This stuff is way past me now. Of course, I’m still better off than my boss. Well,” he caught himself. “My ex boss I mean. My best friend.”

“Dead?”

“What?” Alex asked, shaken out of his unconscious thought of Danny.

“Your friend. Ex-boss. He dead too?”

“Wha— Oh no. He’s um. Well, it’s a long story. Short version is he got injured in the line of duty.”

“And you got his job.” Bella finished, when Alex trailed off.

Without answering, Alex stepped over to the printer and retrieved the freshly printed photo.

He sighed to himself.

“We can’t be sure this is him,” Alex said, more to himself than anyone. When he looked up, he saw tears swelling in Bella’s eyes.

“We can hope,” Alex said, mixing honesty with reassuredness. “You’ve been a great help, Miss. I’ve troubled you enough for one day. If you need anything else, please, call my office.” He took out his business card and handed it to her.

“Shouldn’t you take me into custody or something? With a killer on the loose? I mean, isn’t that how they do it on TV? Doesn’t this make me a witness or something?”

Chuckling, Alex said, “Yes, I suppose it is how they do it. But that will not be necessary. At the risk of crossing a line I did not intend to draw, could I ask you to, um, stay home from work for a few days?”

“A gal’s got to eat.”

“Make you a deal,” Alex said. “You’re a material witness. You stay away from work for a few days and I’ll make sure the department foots the bill for your necessities. Stay out of trouble and I’ll toss in a makeover and spa day personally when this is all over. Deal?”

“No strings?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

“No strings,” Alex said, crossing his heart. “You have my promise. You just lay low for a few days and we’ll make sure you’re taken care of, okay? I’ll post a guard if you want. Or just have a couple of patrols. You are right. You’re a witness.”

“You’re sweet.”

“Just doing my job, Ma’am.”

“Everyone else must have been out sick today.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex asked.

“It’s not every day we get a police Captain out this way.” When a confused expression crawled across his face, Bella continued. “The badge. I’ve seen enough to know the difference. Yours said Captain.”

“Well, I’m a Lieutenant at heart, truth be told. Enough of a desk jockey to be bad in the field, but enough of a poor diplomat to be a poor Captain. Truth, this is only a temporary assignment till the real captain heals from injuries. My partner had a long night so he’s resting. I’m an old dog trying to learn new tricks. I’m an okay cop. But I’m a lousy captain.”

“Could have sent another cop out here yanno? If you’re the guy in charge.”

“Well, like I said, I’m a lousy captain. And one of those weaknesses is delegating. If I don’t do it myself, I am always concerned it will not get done right. And this case is too important to muck up.”

“You have kids?” Bella asked, warming slightly.

“Two.”

“Well, be sure and tell your wife that I said she has a very sweet husband.”

Smiling, Alex said, “I’ll do that.”

Chapter 20

Friday, October 14

2:11 p.m.

It was the end of Alyson’s shift. A shift which served to do little more than give her a headache and make the drive home likely to be a very difficult one.

Rubbing her neck, she stood, stopping for a moment to twist left, then right. Eric grimaced when the sound of her back popping rose above the relative quiet in a room filled with little more than computers humming and fingers clickety-clacking away at varying speeds. Chuckling to herself, she stretched her tight leg muscles, first left then right.

“You outta here?” Eric asked. Alyson smirked a little, very aware of the slight nervousness he fought so hard to mask.

“Yep, it’s my time. You behave.”

Blushing, he nodded, averted his eyes. Tried desperately to hide his nerves behind a mask of business.

Patting him on the shoulder, Alyson said, “You’re in charge till I get back, E.”

His nervous laugh echoed in the room.

“Yeah, I’m not in charge of nothin’”

The door opened. Two young female volunteers entered, still giggling about whatever inside joke they’d just shared. Looking back at Eric, Alyson noticed a growing blush. She waged a brief, futile battle against a chuckle, cleared her throat and logged out of the time clock on her computer before resetting it, thus changing its settings for the next person who would use it for their online patrols.

“Alyson?” Eric said. Nervous, he cleared a frog from his throat. “Alyson, can I ask you a question?”

“Just did, E. Want to ask me another one?”

When a surprised look settled on his face, Alyson rapped him on the shoulder.

“Whatcha wanna know, E?”

Turning more directly toward Alyson, Eric’s face suddenly dropped. Nervous, he seemed fascinated by his shuffling feet.

Waving her hand in front of Eric’s face, Alyson playfully snapped her fingers.

“Up here, E. What’s up?”

Raising his face, Alyson saw fear in his eyes. Uncertainty. Nerves beyond nerves.

“Would you date me?”

Stunned, Alyson’s eyes flashed big. Trying not to make Eric more nervous than he obviously already was, Alyson carefully considered her reply.”

“Well, E, yanno I—“

“No,” he said, the blush returning to his cheeks. “I meant, like, if you were single, would you date a guy like me? A geek?”

Moving to a chair immediately next to Eric, Alyson took his hand. When he flinched, she squeezed his palm to prevent him from escaping her grasp.

“Honey, I want you to know something. You and I are about the same age, right?”

Unable to speak, he just nodded. Bit his upper lip. Alyson could tell he was holding his breath.

“Breathe, E.” She chuckled, patting him on the forearm, rubbing gently. “You are a good guy, Eric. You’re still young and you have time to find that special gal for you. And when you do, you’ll be glad to know that suddenly every other woman in the world will see you in a new light.”

“Huh?”

She gave a soft smile.

“Honey, it’s a little-known fact that there’s nothing more attractive to a woman than the forbidden fruit. It goes back to Eve. Just tell a woman she can’t have something and that’s the one thing we want. As soon as you find that one woman who God has for you, you’ll look around and realize that all these gals looking past you right now will suddenly see the guy you really are. A smart, funny computer geek who knows who he is.”

“I have no idea who I am.” Eric whispered, embarrassment blanketing him.

“You know what you’re good at.” Alyson said, lifting his chin. “Same thing.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“Well, uh, yeah. I do.” Alyson stammered. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you really think God forgives sins? If we truly mean it when we say we’re sorry? If we really want to change, do you think God really forgives us?”

“Eric, you want to know what I believe? I believe that man looks at your actions. They look at what they see. And they judge by appearances and prejudices. God, in my opinion, looks at the heart. If you’re not really sorry, I don’t think He can forgive you. I think God can only forgive true repentance. Now, having said that, I should say I’m not the best person to ask. My dad was a pastor, so I do know my bible, but I strayed for a number of years. Rebelled against Dad’s authority. We all do that, I guess, but I missed out on some really good teaching when I was young. If you really want to know God, have a good relationship with him, I’d suggest you read the Bible.”

“I have,” he whispered. “I do. Well, occasionally. Barbara, my sister, bought me one after Mom and Dad died. I think she hoped I’d find answers. I don’t know. That I’d find closure with their murders. Peace maybe? What I found was that we played church for a while, but the Bible talks about a God I know nothing about. I think Mom knew Him. Maybe. I dunno. But I don’t.”

“You want to?” Alyson asked.

Eric nodded.

Taking his other hand in hers, Alyson bowed her head.

“God, I don’t know the right words to pray. You know as well as anyone that I’m not the right one to lead Eric’s eager mind to You. I want to thank You for Eric’s truth and for his confession and I ask You now to put a real leader in his life. Someone that can lead him to a real relationship with You. Lead us both down the right path, Father and let us develop a deep relationship with You. Let us know You better every day. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

“I’m not worthy of God,” Eric said, his voice trembling. Alyson looked up to see a tear welling up in his eye.

“None of us are, Honey,” she said, hugging him. “That’s what makes His love so awesome. We don’t have to be worthy. We just have to want it. Really want it.”

“I’m not a good person though.”

“Don’t make me slap you.”

They both looked up when a throat cleared next to them. Catching sight of the two teenage girls that had entered giggling a few minutes before, Eric let go of Alyson’s hands.

“Hi,” the young Asian girl said, blushing as the word forced its way from her throat.

“Uh, hi,” Eric said. Alyson could tell that he was trembling, even without touching him. Easy, Kid, she thought to herself. This is your moment.

“I’m Katie,” the tall brunette said, “This is Dae.”

After a tongue-tied Eric failed to respond, Alyson chimed in.

“I’m Alyson. This is my buddy Eric. Y’all go to school around here?”

“Graduated last year.” Katie said. Alyson couldn’t help but notice Dae blushed as Eric’s eyes met hers for all of a second. “I go to Kilgore College now. Dae will start there in January.”

“I just moved here from South Korea,” Dae said, a slight southern drawl lilting her words. Noting Alyson’s confused look, Dae grinned. “My dad is in the Marines. He met Mom in Seoul. A year later, along came my sister. Then me. Daddy taught me all about Texas Twang.” She finished off with an exaggerated drawl that would have made Vivian Leigh jealous.

“Yeah, so,” Katie interrupted, “Are you guys a couple?”

“What?” Eric said, jerking back from Alyson in his chair. “No, we’re uh, she has a man. I mean. No, we’re just…”

“What Stammering Sam is trying to say is that we’re friends and I’m involved. Unless I missed a memo, Eric is single at the moment.”

A slight growl parted his lips as he looked around the room nervously. Tossing his arms in the air, as if stretching, he said, “Nah, I’m as single as it gets.”

Alyson loved how he fought to maintain composure. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that even she knew the girls weren’t buying it. It didn’t matter. Young Dae could see his nervousness but obviously found it cute.

“Yeah, um,” Dae stammered. “Well, cool.”

Laughing, Katie interrupted, “What Stammering Sally means is that she wanted to know if you wanted to go to a movie sometime.”

When Eric didn’t immediately reply, his gaze too nervously locked on Alyson to budge, she cleared her throat and motioned her eyes toward the girls. Not leaving his gaze, Alyson finally spoke up.

“I think Sam would enjoy that very much. Dae, if you’ll give Eric your number, I’ll make sure he calls you to work out the details.”

“Wha— Uh, yeah.” Taking a pen from the desk next to Eric, Dae scribbled furiously. Blushing beet red, she handed the paper to Eric, whose hand trembled visibly as he retrieved the note.

“Okay, cool,” Katie said, “See? Told you that was easy enough. Well, see ya. You better call her. I know where you work, young man!” Smiling, Katie winked at Eric. Noticing the wink, Dae smacked her in the chest as they walked away.

Snatching the paper from Eric, Alyson smiled. “Told ya so.”

Snatching it back, Eric asked, “Told me what?”

“Told you that all you had to do was get a girl and you’d have other girls all over you. Those two saw us holding hands and suddenly saw you in a different light.”

“Yeah, but we were just praying. Heck, I’m surprised they said anything.”

“Did you read what Dae wrote?”

“Yeah,” Eric said, she wrote her number.

“Read it again, Sport. Dae Brennan. God Bless. That gal got interested because she saw you praying. Looks like our little prayer session was answered already.”

“Ya think?”

“Well, just go on a date with the gal first. She seemed nice. Enjoy time with a nice girl and take it from there. It’s not up to you or me what happens, but you know what they say. God works in mysterious ways.”

Eric laughed.

“I guess. Maybe. Good grief! How am I gonna call this girl? I can’t even talk to her!”

“You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

Eric nodded.

“Yeah, but that’s different. I know you have a man. So, it’s not like there’ any chance of anything happening.”

“What you mean is I’m not a threat.”

“Right.”

“Well, honestly, neither is she. And whether you realized it or not, she’s just as nervous as you are. So, just man up. Be you. If she doesn’t like you, you’ve had a date with a girl that isn’t right for you. If she does like you, you’ve had your first date with the future. Either way, it’s in God’s hands. Go, have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“You wanna come?” Eric said, his voice cracking as if regressing into puberty. Clearing his throat, Eric continued. “I mean, you and your boyfriend. We could double. I know y’all are a little older than us, but—“

“Tell you what,” Alyson said, “I’ll talk to Josh next chance I get. Give her a call tomorrow. You don’t want to seem too eager. Have a couple conversations with her before the movie. That way you’ll be more at ease. Meantime, I’ll see if I can talk Josh into it. He probably won’t mind. He likes you. It’s getting him to sit still for a movie that will be the hard part.

As she grabbed her purse, Jason Carlson approached.

“You get the word out online?”

“As best I could, Jase. Internet’s a lot like high school. If you know who to tell, the story will be all over town by dinner. I put feelers out and warned a few online chats where I knew some gals hang out. Where the past vics were known to frequent.”

“Just got a call from the police.”

“Yeah? What’d they say?”

“There was a break in the case. We may have a survivor. Well, a witness anyway. Turns out this little precautionary measure we’re undertaking may be the very thing that breaks the case. Put another way, Alyson, we’ve suddenly become very important to the Longview P.D.”

“We were always important, Jase. But if we can help catch the guy who did it, this will sure add a new edge to the organization huh? I’m betting we’ll be turning away volunteers left and right.”

“Think it’ll be too much to expect some kind of award from the city?”

“Jase, I tell you what, when the police catch this guy, I’ll buy you a happy meal, and ask for two toys!”

“Chicken nuggets, please. I’m not much on beef right now.”

“Duly noted. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go home, rest my eyes and wait for Josh to take me out for a lovely dinner and dancing.”

“Ah! Jealous! I’ll be thinking of you when I am curled up with my top ramen staring at this screen all night.”

Patting Eric Reid on the shoulder, Alyson said, “Well, look on the bright side. You got the E-man to keep you company.”

Winking, she noticed a slight blush crawling up Eric’s neck.

“Watch out for this one, E. And remember, wait a day before ya call her!”

Without waiting for a reply, Alyson exited the building, slightly unprepared for the cloudless sky’s scorching beams.

Batting her watery eyes, Alyson almost bumped into a rather large man in a tremendously expensive suit.

“Excuse me, Sir.” She said, smiling.

Nodding, he continued on.

Walking to her car, Alyson made a mental note to tell Jason to add more lighting inside.

Chapter 21

Friday, October 14

4:53 p.m.

The end-of-shift briefing went better than Alex had anticipated. He’d done a few since Danny had been sidelined, but mostly he’d relied on Chief Steelman to step in and perform this particular task. In the wake of this new crime wave, Alex decided he needed to display strength. Even if he was a ball of uncertain nerves inside, he had to exude courage if he was to expect those around him to be effective in the discharge of their duties.

Kellan had arrived just in time, making the briefing more of a shift change briefing than a true “end-of-shift” briefing.

“Okay, Alex. You go home. I’ll get things going from here. Steelman said he’d come by around 10:00.” Kellan said.

“Don’t worry, Kel.” Alex said. “I just needed to do this. I sent Reg home this morning because he’d worked his tail off through the night. He’ll be in tomorrow morning. I’m gonna go home, catch a few hours’ sleep. I’ll be back around 11:00 p.m. and we’ll finish this bad boy together, okay? If anything happens before then, call me at home.”

“And wake you up? I ain’t stupid, Alex!” Kellan joked.

Acknowledging Kellan’s joke with a slight smile, Alex assured him, “I’ll make sure Lisa answers the phone. I don’t mind waking up to my beautiful wife.”

“We need to catch this guy quick, Alex. Before he kills again. You really think that picture is a fake?”

“I do.” Alex said, uncharacteristically blunt.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Common sense, I think.” When Kellan raised an eyebrow, he continued. “If you were killing people, would you send your real picture around so flippantly? Especially when you might be sending it to a cop posing as a prostitute?”

“Yeah, but why are these girls getting in the car with somebody that doesn’t match the picture?”

Alex chuckled to himself. “Son, you and I are a product of a different era. This is the internet age. You can be anyone you want. You got people out there making fake website pages pretending to be every rock star, actor and athlete. I saw one profile the other day that was a fake cop. Turned out to belong to some author guy that writes detective novels. In an effort to create a sense of realism, he created a profile for the lead character. Dude interacts with it and everything. Actually quite comical. Some folks don’t get that it’s fake. Sent Stephens and Simms out there a couple weeks ago. They said the guy looked like he was gonna wet himself.”

“Yeah but,”

Suddenly serious, Alex interrupted, “Kellan, I know what you’re going to say. Nothing about this is funny. My point is that people are more trusting. People don’t care if your picture matches. Heck, you have every fat, jobless dude in America sending pictures of cheerleaders to random strangers just to see if they can get away with it. This is why child predators are a dime a dozen. Kids don’t think anymore. If the picture doesn’t match, they think, ‘oh well, mine didn’t either.’ And bam! They’re never seen again. The victims here are prostitutes and strippers and the likes. They’re trying to make money. Doesn’t matter what the john looks like. The Benjamins spend just the same. These days, it’s almost a given that somebody out there has gotten your picture, or mine, and are living under a fake profile with that as their default picture. It just happens.”

“Okay, so it’s goin’ on 5:00 now. You’ll be back around 11:00?”

“That’s the plan. If I’m not here by 11:15, I’ll call. That reminds me. Do me a favor I need you to get Karen Mason in on this. She’s a good techie person and has experience chasing predators online. Send her over to talk to that kid, Jason something at…What’s the name of that place? You know. The internet guys helping us on this thing.”

“Yeah, I got ya. I’m on it, Alex. Go home. Get some sleep. You know Steelman doesn’t want you on nights till Monday, right? Don’t look at me like that. I just don’t want you getting in trouble with Daddy Tom again. You know, you stay in trouble with that man more than a redheaded stepchild.”

“Well, we need to get this done. I’ll sleep when it’s over. Just leave Steelman to me. He loves me. He’ll let it go. Get folks organized so you and I can tackle this night shift together, Bud.”

“You can’t work 24/7, Alex. We got capable folks on this. And the feds are sending down two forensics experts to help Tabby at the lab. They’re sending down a profiler that worked up a profile on this guy like two or three years ago.”

“How’d you find out something I didn’t know?”

“Oh, well, I was talking to Cade a while ago and he happened to mention it. I didn’t want to say anything in the briefing. Figured I’d let you decide what the fellas need to know. That’s your call, not mine.”

“Well I appreciate you throwin’ me a bone, dawg!” Alex winked.

Laughing, Kellan said, “Don’t be that way, man. You know me. I just didn’t want to step on no toes. If I’d announced that during the meeting, you’d have felt stepped on, right? Alex, I know this is uncomfortable for you right now. I don’t say much, because I got your back, but I know you’re feeling out of place or whatever. Overwhelmed. Man, you’re doing a great job. But I need you to know I’m with ya. And the boys need to unite behind you. The lines form behind me, Brother. I run things by you. You tell the team when you think it’s all good. I’m just letting you know that I have faith in you Alex. Danny once told me he envied you. Did you know that?”

“Envied me? Why?”

“Because he said that every man and woman on this force would follow you through the bowels of Hell just to find a lost pen. He’s right. I got nothin’ but love for Danny. You know that. But he knows and I know. You are The One, Dude.”

“Danny’s said that to me before. Something similar anyway. I don’t know why he feels that way. Or you, for that matter. I wish I had your confidence, Kel.”

“Buddy, the secret to that is easy. You need to see you the way we see you. Look at your wife. Your kids. Look at me, Danny. Heck, look at Daddy Tom. That man thinks the world of you. We all know it. You’re everybody’s favorite, Alex. Because you do what you gotta do. You give a hundred percent. Good enough is not good enough for you, and we all dig that about you.”

“Well, I hope I’m not the only one that gives 100 percent. But half the men on this force could outdo me if they gave eighty to my hundred.”

“You believe that garbage?”

Pulling out his badge, Alex showed it to Kellan.

“You know why I got this badge? Why I got it instead of you or some other cop?”

Kellan shook his head, remaining quiet.

“No reason. Luck. Timing. Right place. Right time. Seniority. Nepotism. Any number of things, Kel. But it has squat to do with qualification.”

“Alex, do me a favor? Go home before I punch you.”

Smiling, Alex slapped Kellan on the shoulder.

“Love you, Kel.”

“Back at ya, Cap. Now go home. That’s an order.”

Giving a lazy two-fingered salute, Alex winked and walked out.

Nearing his car, he caught sight of Agent Cade, walking toward the entrance. Saying nothing, he shot his arm up and waved. Cade reciprocated, silently entering the station.

Entering the car, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, simultaneously cranking the engine. Inhaling deep, a phantom scent entered his nostrils. It was a familiar scent, a welcome one. Opening his eyes, he looked in the passenger seat and saw Lisa’s jacket. Smiling, he picked it up and buried his face into it.

“I don’t know why you believe in me so much,” he whispered, placing the jacket back in the passenger seat, “but I’ll try not to let you down.”

Closing his eyes again, Alex tilted his head back.

“God, I don’t know what it is that they see in me. I don’t even know if it’s real. But, please let me be worthy of their adulation. More than that, help me be worthy of Your gift to me. Somehow, someway, let me be worthy of this love with which You have surrounded me. Amen.”

Sighing, Alex shifted into reverse. He’d almost missed the police cruiser passing out of his blind spot. Quick reflexes saved him what could have been a very interesting phone call to his insurance agent.

Chapter 22

Friday, October 14

10:09 p.m.

“When I contacted Acting Captain Mendez with an offer my apologies for my part in our previous misunderstanding, he had this to say.”

The only public that matters wants me to do my job, Mrs. Greyson.

As Alex’s voice played on the nightly news, his anger became far too heated, even for him. Looking at the graphic backdrop and the words he spoke typing themselves on the screen, he felt buried beneath the growing need to silence the news reporter that, for whatever reason, had singled him out for her own personal vendetta.

“Clearly, those of us who want to make sure he’s doing his job don’t count as much as those who stay silent and out of the way. I have tried, numerous times, to extend an olive branch to Acting Captain Mendez, but our conversation has made me quite certain as to the character of this man. Later in our conversation, this exchange.”

I could use your help, Mrs. Greyson. We’re on the same team. How about some team participation here?

What would you have me do?

I think you know the answer, Mrs. Greyson.

“Well, I think it’s rather clear where the mind of Acting Captain Alex Mendez truly is. While there’s a killer on the loose, he seeks to proposition a professional journalist trying to do her job. Sorry, Mr. Mendez, but I am married and, as you can see, pregnant. I suppose I’ll have to remain one of those whose opinion just doesn’t matter.”

“I am going to throttle that woman!” Alex growled, trying desperately to keep his voice down, so as not to wake the kids.

“You and me both, Babe.” Lisa said, hugging his arm. Turning his face toward hers, she continued, “You have a job to do, Alex. Get focused and get to work. This woman is going to get hers. Like the saying goes, let go and let God. In this case, let go and let Lisa.”

“Honey?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Babe. I know how to handle women like this. I promise, she won’t get a single bruise.”

“She’s pregnant, Honey. Don’t do anything we’ll both regret.”

“What regret? I’m just gonna have a talk with her, woman to woman. And I promise you she’ll be issuing you and apology, tendering her resignation or both. By the time I’m done with her, she won’t have much weight to lose after that baby’s born.”

“Sweetheart? I know that look. Please don’t—“

“You just do your job, Babe. I’ll do mine.”

“Your job, my dear, is to protect our kids from jerks like this.”

“Exactly. And your job is to get to the station and catch the very bad man killing very lost girls. Weren’t you the one just saying you were going to throttle this woman? Now you’re telling me to just chill out?”

“I love you, Lisa.”

“Love you, Babe. I promise you, Mrs. Greyson is going to regret hurting my family.”

“Am I going to have to arrest you tonight?”

“Tonight? No.” Lisa winked. “I’m going to bed I’ll wait until tomorrow, I promise.”

Kissing Lisa’s forehead, Alex smiled. “My little spitfire.”

When Lisa reached for the phone book, Alex asked, “Who you calling?”

“No one,” she answered, grinning like a Cheshire cat with a new toy. “I’m just getting the address for the Channel 56 studio.

“Lisa.”

“Yes, dear?” she said, feigning a sarcastic innocence.

“I love you, Brat.”

“Love you, too. I’m just playing. You go to work. Find this guy, okay? No distractions. You do your job, Babe.”

“Can I trust you to play nice?” Alex whispered, as he leaned in to hug Lisa.

“Scout’s honor,” she snickered, holding up the scout salute.

“Pretty sure you were never a scout.”

“Brownie,” Lisa said.

“Liar.”

“No, I was asking if you wanted a brownie to take with you.”

Laughing, Alex rubbed his wife’s leg.

“Okay, I’m out of here. You behave. If you’re good, I’ll buy you something pretty.”

“Got my eye on a new Browning I saw the other day.”

“Done. Now behave.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Lisa quipped.

Grabbing his coat, Alex passed another glance toward Lisa. She looked like he felt. Like a cat waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.

As he reached for the doorknob, the telephone rang.

“That’s Danny,” Alex said, opening the door. “Tell him I’ve got this.”

“If that’s Danny,” Lisa answered, “I’m picking him up in 20.”

Her sly little grin manifested in a playful tone as she answered Danny’s call.

He knew the drill. He knew the conversation. And he knew what he had to do. Leaving Lisa behind to talk to Danny, Alex closed the door, tested the knob to make sure he’d locked it.

In his car, Alex dialed the TV station. As expected, the call went to voicemail.

“Mrs. Greyson, this is Captain Alex Mendez. Your report was full of untruths tonight, so I’ll be coming to see you so we can talk about it. Better yet, you’ll be hearing from my attorney.”

He wasn’t really going by the station, but he would let her sweat for a while. Then he would call her tomorrow and discuss the matter with her in front of witnesses. One of them might even be his attorney.

Your time is coming, Greyson, Alex thought to himself. One way or the other, your time is coming.

***

Friday, October 14

10:49 p.m.

It was a rare moment that Jennifer Greyson actually got to leave right after the newscast. Most nights saw her spending the better part of two hours researching leads for the next day and checking for updates on stories on which she’d just reported. Curious, she had checked her voicemail. She was almost excited that she had received an angry phone call from Alex Mendez. First at her office number, shortly thereafter on her personal cell. Say what you want about Captain Mendez, but add thorough to his list of qualities.

She enjoyed the game. And that’s what it was to her. A game. Oh, she was professional. But she had to test the new guy. She had to see if he was cut out for the responsibility of leading the community protectorate. How would he perform under pressure? So far, she was less than impressed.

After listening to his voicemail, she entertained the idea of baiting him. But, she realized, calling him to chat again could probably play against her in the court of public opinion. It was a tough world. If the little guppy couldn’t swim with the big fish, it was best he find out now.

Checking the AP feed and cruising quickly through her emails, it didn’t appear that there was anything she needed to stress. Turning to her reports, she sighed, not wanting to do anymore work. Twice, since the newscast ended, the baby had kicked. She’d have to remember to lay off the spicy foods.

Thankfully, Dillon Bradford had agreed to finish up her reports and shut everything down for the night. He was a good kid, she thought. And eager to be the next co-anchor of the evening news. Of course, Jennifer was content to let the young intern merely do her grunt work.

Exiting the building, she shot a half smile to the desk guard, Hank Bowie. A cold chill kissed her neck as she exited into the East Texas night. Shivering, she shoved her hands in her pockets.

Reaching the edge of the street, she looked both ways, gauged the traffic and waddled across as quickly as a pregnant woman was able to move. Having reached safety on the other side of the street, Jennifer Greyson locked eyes with a couple of teenagers who seemed to be out for a little mischief. No time for that, she thought. Moving quickly, she entered the lower level of the parking garage. Her silver Mercury Sable was just a few spots down. Luckily, being pregnant had garnered her a temporary favor of an assigned parking spot. She knew it would not last, but she was glad that the station managers had taken pity on her.

Removing her hand from her pocket, she reached into her purse, searching for her keys. As always, she was able to quickly retrieve them from the side pocket that contained nothing more than keys and a spare Kleenex, should she ever need one.

Triggering the pocket flashlight on her keychain, the dark parking garage seemed to come alive. Jennifer never ceased to be amazed at the amount of illumination provided by the tiny flashlight.

In the distance, a vending machine kicked on, startling her. A fluorescent light flickered twice. Went out.

Searching her pocket, she found her cellphone. Flipping it open, she opened the contact list, pressing 1 to speed dial her husband. Pressing send, silence filled the air as she waited for the call to connect. Ever the worry wart, Todd had made her promise to call before she came home.

As she reached the rear end of her Sable, Jennifer Greyson suddenly erupted into a sneezing fit. Two, three, then four sneezes.

Sniffling, Jennifer reached into the side pocket of her purse, searching for the Kleenex.

She was already on her hands and knees by the time she felt the blow between her shoulder blades. Her cellphone illuminated, she caught sight of it sliding under her car, flipping on its side, illuminating the underside of her vehicle. She let go an involuntary scream as her car keys went sailing into the darkness. Darkness swallowed the light, blanketing the surroundings. Looking back toward the entrance of the parking garage, Jennifer blinked painful tears away, trying to focus. Blurred eyes and darkness gave little help. Though a cloudless sky allowed a moonlit backdrop into which bent a humanesque figure.

“Help…m-me” she said, reaching for the figure, just noticing the needle and syringe.

She blinked, felt a single tear creeping down her face. Pain pulsed through every part of her body. Her hand felt dead. Her foot suddenly felt as if it were on fire.

“No!” she shouted. “Help!” Fighting the pain, she screamed with everything she had. Twisting, trying to get on her hands and knees again, Jennifer felt a hand on her leg. She tried to kick with her other leg, but found it to be trapped.

Wiggling, she kicked with her seized leg. She connected somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where.

Her assailant cried out in pain. A gravelly cry, though not unlike a teenage boy going through puberty while battling a 3-pack a day smoking habit.

She felt the rag over her mouth and nose. Instinctively, she inhaled deeply.

Suddenly woozy, she fought to hold her breath.

Kicking, she folded her hand and launched the butt of her palm toward what she thought was the man’s face. Fading, she was aware that she’d connected with the top of his head.

Losing her battle with consciousness, she saw the needle again.

“N-uh.”

Her mouth would no longer work.

My baby!

Fighting to stay awake, she barely felt the tiny kick. As if connected to the baby’s willpower, she let go with a flail that lacked any power to what should have been a real kick.

Weak, she kicked again. Even as she ventured into the darkness, she felt the cracking of a rib as her foot made contact with her assailant’s torso. The rag removed, she felt something strange. Something she’d not noticed before. A bandaged hand covering her mouth.

“Shhhh…” he said. “Just. Sleep.”

Fighting the effects of sudden drowsiness, she thought she sensed what was the taste of blood as she bit down.

A scream.

But not her’s.

“Jenn? Baby? That you? Hello?”

As darkness overtook her, she saw a flash of light. A clamping sound interrupted her husband’s voice.

She slept.

Chapter 23

Friday, October 14

10:53 p.m.

A quick stop at the store had turned into quite the ordeal for Alex. He would never understand the logic behind building a gigantic megastore, complete with 35 registers, only to keep 2 cashiers on duty. The self-checkouts were a bigger annoyance than Christina’s occasional, “Dad, Dad, Daddy,” routine. Full disclosure, he actually didn’t mind the routine as much as he let on unless, of course, he was overly-tired. If nothing else, the annoyance at being delayed served to take his mind off of Jennifer Greyson, as much as was possible anyway.

Of course, he couldn’t help but marvel at the rather large number of people filling the store at this hour. To say nothing of the colorful characters comprising this macabre crew.

Now, in the department’s kitchen area, he replenished their dwindling supply of carbonated joy. Many police officers – both uniformed and plain-clothed – would likely benefit from Alex’s kindness in the next couple of days. He’d consider it a miracle if the supply lasted until Monday.

Closing the door, he turned, just in time to run into a rookie uniform he recognized, albeit bittersweet.

“Tara?”

Tara Franks looked at him, smiled and lunged forward, hugging him.

“Mr. Mendez! How are you?”

“How am I?” he laughed, suddenly shocked. “Look at you. When did you get so big? Last time I saw you, you were…”

“Tugging on my dad’s shirt sleeve, shyly hiding from the beautiful Hispanic man he was talking to,” she laughed, wrinkling her nose in that same childlike manner. “I remember.”

Alex couldn’t help but marvel at the baby face adorning the young woman standing before him. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail, it served less toward professionalism and more toward the child-like image filling Alex’s mind.

Her dad had been retired just a couple of years, but old Carl Franks had been one heck of an officer. Career uniform, he’d been shot twice in the line of duty, but lived to retirement age, sadly burying his beloved Maddy just a year prior to uterine cancer. Young Tara had been their pride and joy. The younger of two girls, Alex had always pictured the raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty more as a movie star, or some other celebrity occupation. Ever the princess, it came as quite the shock to Alex for Tara Franks to have followed her dad into police work. Looking at her small frame, Alex couldn’t help but envision his own little girl, all grown up, choosing to follow in Daddy’s footsteps. Given her penchant for searching, exploring and investigating random things, Alex would not be half as surprised as he was by the prim and proper little girl that was Tara Franks growing into the rookie police officer standing before him.

“Look at you,” Alex repeated. “Gosh, I’m sorry, I’m just—“Alex stopped, laughed again. “So, how? When did—“

“I officially joined the force last week, actually. Graduated Academy in June. Still gotta finish my bachelor’s, but that’ll come in time. Dad didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Alex said, suddenly embarrassed, “I, uh, your dad and I haven’t talked in a while. I’m afraid it’s just been chaotic around here, what with Danny sidelined and all. But tell him I said hi, okay? And if you need any help finding your footing around here, my door is always open.”

Alex felt a rush of guilt as he thought of Carl Franks mourning the loss of his wife alone. She’d been considerably younger than Carl. His third wife, Alex thought. But the love of his life, no doubt. A very classy lady, Alex recalled, a perfect mixture of Betty Crocker, Betty Page and a Terminatrix.

Exiting the kitchen area, Alex rounded the corner and headed toward his office. Passing through the hallway, Alex stopped for a moment as memories of Danny, exiting his office flooded Alex’s being.

Taking out his phone, he pressed the first three digits of Danny’s phone number.

“Another time,” he sighed. “I sure do miss you, Old Man.”

“Me too, Boss.” Kellan’s voice whispered just as a hand shook Alex back to reality.

“Hey, Kel.”

“Hey, Buddy. Let’s go to your office. Josh Sutton is there with Cade. They want to go over this case, get on the same page before Josh calls it a night.”

“Did you know that Carl Franks’ youngest daughter is a cop?”

Laughing, Kellan said, “Yeah, I know. Always thought it would be his boy, Kyle. We are officially old, Alex.”

“Yeah, but she’s still just a baby. It’s up to us to solve the crimes and show these kids how to do the job. But for what it’s worth, I feel really old, too, all of the sudden.”

Alex paused outside his office door when his cell phone rang.

“Mendez?”

“Babe, it’s me.”

Alex could hear the trembling in her voice.

“Lisa, what’s wrong?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he said her name.

“Alex, you are not going to believe this!”

***

Friday, October 14

11:21 p.m.

Good Shepherd Memorial Hospital was awash with urgency. Every station in the area had already sent reporters to cover the attack on one of their compatriots. Two sheriff deputies were stopping everyone that entered. Another member of the sheriff’s department had called Alex on his way to the hospital. Given Jennifer Greyson’s recent reporting, Alex was being asked to sit the investigation out. A request he promptly ignored, citing an ongoing investigation and possible serial killer.

The Texas Rangers were going to be called in. He knew it. And he knew he’d face an investigation, the likes of which he’d never experienced. He might even be accused of attacking her. At least that was the Sheriff’s insinuation. No time for that now, he told himself. He’d worry about it later.

Walking into the hospital, Kellan Arthur following behind, he found a uniformed officer he recognized as Tate Crockett. A young, fresh-faced, Irish-looking kid, Tate and his partner Kenny Thomas had been first on the scene and discovered Jennifer unconscious.

“We need to see her, Tate.” Alex said.

“Sir, I’m not certain where they took her, but—“

“They took her into delivery, I think.” Kenny Thomas said, eliciting strange looks from everyone else. “One of the doctors said something about the baby.”

“Baby?” Kellan asked.

“She was pregnant.” Alex confirmed, suddenly rife with sadness. “Not far enough along for…”

As he trailed off, Tate Crockett asked an elderly lady at the information desk where they’d taken Jennifer Greyson.

Alex couldn’t hear the reply.

As Tate returned, he said, “She’s in a room. Room 2214. In the new tower. The baby didn’t…”

“I figured as much,” Alex sighed.

“Alex, maybe we should, yanno, come back another time. Like, when she’s had time to rest, grieve.”

“I know, Kel, but we are policemen. We have a victim that was attacked. It could be related to another case. We have to try. Tate, you and Kenny follow us.”

As he pressed the up button for the elevator, Alex’s cell phone rang again. Looking at the screen, he growled, flipped it closed, and shoved it back into his pocket.

As the elevator door opened, he looked at Kellan and said, “Anything happens to me, call Escalante and Karen Mason. I’ll make sure Steelman makes you Captain in my absence. They’ll be your best lieutenants. Martin Escalante’s a stickler for details and Mason’s a top computer geek. Both good investigators. You should be okay. If the stuff goes down, you’ll need good support. They’ll be about your best. Whatever you do, if they sideline me, keep Janet Busby out of it. She’ll want in, but you can’t let her, because it’ll be very personal.”

“Alex, don’t stress it.”

“Not stressing it, Kel,” Alex lied. “Just preparing.”

Preparing for the worst, he thought to himself.

Chapter 24

Friday, October 14

11:27 p.m.

Tower Two of the Good Shepherd Memorial hospital was a different structure than Tower One in every way. Newly renovated, construction had begun the same month that renovations on Tower One were completed, nearly two years ago. One additional floor and a new sub-basement provided the tower with new storage and self-sustaining power supplies, separate from Tower One. Unlike Tower One, Tower Two did not have the colorful children’s ward with the polka dot walls, and rooms named for animals such as Freddy the Frog and Petey the Panda. The entire expansion project was quite the engineering marvel.

As Alex rounded the corner, a fluorescent bulb in the ceiling flickered – just once, before increasing the illumination in the corridor.

Pointing to the bulb, Alex nudged Kellan. “Aren’t you glad that tax dollars didn’t pay for that?”

“No doubt!” Kellan laughed.

Stopping at the nurse’s desk, Alex showed his badge.

“Jennifer Greyson?” He asked, “Room 2214?”

Saying nothing, the rather gruff-looking Nurse Craggy Pants made a head motion to Alex’s left before returning to her paperwork. Looking to the left, he noticed a sign on the wall directing them to the various rooms on this floor. Room 2214 was down the hall to the right, just around the nurse’s desk and information areas.

Waving Kellan and the others on, he led them toward room 2214. Several doors down, he caught sight of a man standing outside the room talking on a cell phone. He stood across from a larger nurse’s station than the one he’d just left. This one manned by a staff of six nurses and medical persons in scrubs of varying color. As they drew closer, the distress in the man’s voice and on his face were obvious.

Noticing the approaching group, the man got off the phone.

Wiping a tear from his eye, the man fought for composure.

“Sir, I’m Alex Mendez,” he offered, showing his badge. “This here is my associate, Lt. Kellan Arthur. These two young men are officers Tate Crockett and Kenny Thomas.”

Extending his hand, the man said, “Greyson, Todd Greyson. Wait. Mendez?  Did you say your name was Mendez?”

“Yes, sir,” Alex confirmed. “I’m Captain Alex Mend—“

He had no time to react. Thin and wiry, Todd Greyson’s fist was impossibly quick. While it wasn’t the hardest punch Alex had ever felt, it possessed an unexpected power radiating from somewhere deep within Mr. Greyson’s rage and pain. The sting had morphed into a violent throb as Alex regained his footing. In a flash, Kellan Arthur had restrained the much smaller Todd Greyson.

Alex blinked stars from his eyes, rubbed his throbbing jaw.

“Not the best move assaulting a police officer, Mr. Greyson.” Kellan said, “But you really made a boo-boo striking the Captain of Homicide.”

“You!” Todd Greyson growled, his face blood red. Eyes, suddenly awash with tears again. “You killed my child! You did this! You’re the reason she’s in there! Let me go, you jerk! I swear, I’ll kill you! Frighten my wife, will you? Think you’re such a big man? I’m not afraid of you! I will kill you if it’s the last thing I do!”

A frightened nurse grabbed the receiver on her desk phone. She could be heard requesting security. Flashing his badge toward the nurse, Alex waved her off.

“Calm down!” Kellan whispered, tightening his grip. “You’re in a hospital!”

“Sir,” Alex said, rubbing his sore jaw with one hand and extending his other hand to show he was no threat. “I’m gonna need you to calm down. I know what you think. I am not going to say I know how you feel, but I know where this is coming from and I can assure you it is all a huge misunderstanding.

Tate grabbed his cuffs, handed them to Kellan who was still struggling with the wriggling Todd Greyson.

“That won’t be necessary, Kellan.” Alex said. “Mr. Greyson is upset about his wife. It’s understandable. I wouldn’t be very clear headed in his position either. Mr. Greyson. I’m here to help. I promise. Despite all the reports to the contrary, I’m just trying to do my job. I’m afraid your wife and I differ very greatly on the purpose and manner of our various interactions. Your wife was attacked and I just need to talk to her. Is she awake?”

Nodding, he hung his head. Kellan noticeably relaxed his grip.

“If Lt. Arthur lets you go, you’re not gonna throw another right cross at me are you?”

Still looking down, he shook his head.

Alex nodded to Kellan who released his grip.

“Tate, Kenny, I need you to take a statement from Mr. Greyson. Go over to the waiting room. It should be pretty quiet in there. This floor seems pretty abandoned right now. If it’s occupied, just find a secluded space where you can get the facts, okay? Mr. Greyson? With your permission, Kellan and I are going to go in and talk to your wife. I promise, we will do our best not to upset her. We’ll talk to you before we leave, okay?”

He nodded.

Guiding him by the arm, Tate led Mr. Greyson toward the waiting room.

Turning toward Jennifer Greyson’s room, Kellan stopped Alex.

“Any idea what you’re going to ask yet?”

“Not a clue, Kellan. I’ll start with ‘How are you?’ and go from there.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk? What if she freaks out?”

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?” Kellan asked.

“Karma.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kellan said nothing.

“She lied on TV, Kel. She knows it, you know it. I know it and hundreds of others know it. Then this happened. I didn’t wish it on her. In fact, I hate that it happened. But ten to one she’ll see it as Karma paying her a visit. She’ll talk. She’ll need to.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Hope her right cross is softer than her husband’s.”

Chapter 25

Friday, October 14

11:35 p.m.

Entering the cold, sterile room where Jennifer Greyson lay, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu overtook Alex. Too, he thought about how many times he’d been in one hospital or another in the past few years. He knew it was a part of the job, but he couldn’t help but wonder when he would be afforded the luxury of never having to be in a hospital again.

Death, he said to himself, was the only thing capable of that. But, for now at least, it wasn’t his life on the line.

As he passed the restroom area, Jennifer Greyson came into view. Her eyes closed, chest rising and falling, she gave the appearance of being asleep.

The buzzing and beeping intrigued Alex. Kellan appeared almost bored, impatient.

Clearing his throat, Kellan moved toward the foot of Jennifer’s bed. When she twitched, Alex surmised she was faking sleep.

“Mrs. Greyson?” Alex whispered. Again, she twitched. Batted her eyelashes and rubbed her eyes.

Batting her eyes closed repeatedly, she searched the room, finally finding Alex. Passing a cool stare, she licked her lips, seemed to be trying to summon moisture into a dry mouth. Reaching for a cup of what turned out to be ice, Alex offered it to her.

Glaring, she shook her head.

“What do you want?” she whispered. Her voice was raspy. Alex could see bruising on her neck and face. Swallowing what might have felt like anything from a wad of cotton to a mouth full of chewed brick, she cleared her throat.

“I, well, we just need to ask you some questions.” Alex said.

“You came to gloat? Want to know who to thank? You have your revenge, Captain Mendez. God took my baby away. And I don’t have anything to say to you. That’s enough.”

“Mrs. Greyson,” Kellan interrupted. “I’m Lt. Kellan Arthur. We just want to help you. We want to catch the guy that did this to you. And, I’m promising you we will make him pay, one way or the other.”

Looking toward the window, her face tilted away from Kellan and Alex, Jennifer sighed. Weak, shaky, she reached a hand to her face, probably wiping away a tear.

“Take your time,” Kellan said, his tone softening, almost as if he were speaking to his own wife. Not wanting to jinx things, Alex remained silent. Watched. Waited.

As her chest spasmed, Jennifer Greyson opened her mouth to speak.

“He came out of nowhere,” she said. “I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention. I should have been paying attention.” Guilt-ridden, she slammed a fist into the bed, pursed her lips and fought a flood of tears. “I should have been paying attention.”

“Where did he come from? Start at the beginning. Did you notice anything? Anything unusual? Anything different from other nights?”

Looking into the far corner of the room, Jennifer Greyson’s expression changed. Confusion. Fear, perhaps. Reaching toward her waist, she passed a hand toward her knee. The blankets shifted as she wrestled beneath them.

Swallowing, trying to find her voice, Jennifer looked feverishly to the left and right, patting the bed as she scanned the room.

“Mrs., Greyson, can I get you something? Would you like some ice chips? Water maybe?”

Shaking her head, Alex noticed she had begun to tremble.

“What is it, Mrs. Greyson?” Alex said, finally breaking his silence. “Did you remember something?”

A look of concern on her face, she seemed to be looking for the button to call the nurse.

“What is it, Mrs. Greyson? What can we do for you? Would you like for us to come back later?”

A fierce rejection of Kellan’s suggestion sent Alex into search mode. Walking around the bed, he looked for anything she might have dropped, not knowing what it could be he was looking for.

“Mrs. Greyson?” Kellan pressed.

“My leg!” she shouted, so suddenly, the Alex envisioned phantom surgeons severing the appendage in Jennifer Greyson’s hallucination.

“Your legs are fine, Mrs. Greyson,” Alex said, reaching for the blanket. Shocked to find bed where her lower leg should have been.

“Uh, Kellan?” Alex said, removing his hand from the bed, “We have a slight problem here.”

Chapter 26

Friday, October 14

11:39 p.m.

In all Alex’s years on the force, he’d never had a case like this in his life. He’d had many cases with dead bodies. He’d dealt with blind people, disabled people, even a deaf person once. He’d taken in soiled newspapers, bodily fluids, glasses, wrenches, baseball bats, eyewear, belts, doorknobs, bed sheets and every manner of clothing into evidence. He’d even taken a washer and dryer once. Not to mention a football helmet and a dog dish. Once, he’d even been forced to take a canine corpse into custody. But never, in all his years of service, had he ever had a case where a prosthetic leg had been taken into evidence.

“The leg likely saved her life,” Tate told Alex. “I wasn’t going to take it into evidence, but Detective Busby showed up on scene just as the ambulance was about to take her away. I told her about the broken syringe sticking out of it and she took the leg off of Mrs. Greyson. Between you and me, Captain, she did it with as much professionalism as you can muster in a moment like that. The EMT’s argued with her when she had to move the body, but she insisted. She’d lost a lot of blood. The baby’s death is not Detective Busby’s fault.”

“No one has even suggested that, Tate.”

“I know,” he whispered, “but if they do, you have my statement. And I’ll testify in court. With all the blood, she likely lost the baby before any of us ever got there. It’s a wonder she lived through it.”

“Busby worked the scene? Who was backup?”

“I guess, technically, that’d be me, Sir. She did most of it. I had Kenny and a couple other guys keeping folks back and interviewing the kids that found her.”

“Kids?”

“Yeah. Some teenagers that were hanging out in the area. Said they heard her scream but, by the time they got there, the guy was running off.”

“And you believed them?”

“We had no reason not to, Sir. They all gave the same basic description. A few discrepancies, but nothing significant. Some said he was 5’9 or 5’10. Another said he was more like 5’6 to 5’7. Running away, he was probably crouching. That could have skewed anyone’s description, especially at night. They all agree he was thin and didn’t look very powerful.”

“He was powerful enough to overwhelm a reasonably healthy, albeit pregnant, woman. Any of them give chase?”

“They said no. We’ve already found their footprints at the scene and there is a set of footprints we can’t identify. A singular bloody footprint and a partial smear, which suggests a quick fleeing of the scene. There is a partial fingerprint on her bumper. It was bloody. We found a partial on the leg itself. You can thank Officer Busby for that one as well. We can’t assume it was the attacker, but we took prints from the kids and are going to run it against them while running against our criminal database. If this sucker’s been incarcerated anywhere in the United States, well know it. Between you and me, I’ve never dusted a fake leg for prints. I always heard stories of weird cases, but I think this one will take the cake for a while.”

“Good work, Tate.” Alex said. “So, thin and wiry. I don’t suppose you took Mr. Greyson’s prints.”

A look of both shock and revelation leapt across Tate’s face. Clearly, he was mentally giving himself a kick in the pants.

“I didn’t think about it, sir. No. We could have gone to the nurse’s station and got an ink pad. I was focused on asking him questions. I—Sir, I’m sorry.”

Patting Tate on the back, Alex’ said, “Son, don’t worry about it. You just go get those prints. I seriously doubt Mr. Greyson has gone home with his wife hospitalized. Find him, print him and get them to the station. Then you and Kenny get outta here.”

“Sir, shouldn’t we be guarding Mrs. Greyson in case someone comes back? I mean, once word gets out that she survived, he’ll think she saw something, won’t he? And maybe come try to silence her?”

Shaking his head, Alex said, “You’ve been watching too many police dramas, Tate. There’s ample security for this guy. Whoever he is. You’ve done your heroic duty, kid. Get this task done and get the reports done. Look on the bright side. You and Kenny have just earned a temporary transfer to homicide.”

As Tate walked away, Alex turned toward Kellan. A mixture of tired confusion seemed to be distracting his train of thought.

“You with me?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, just…”

“Just what?”

Did you know she had a fake leg?”

Alex shook his head.

“Seen some weird stuff in my years, but honestly, I didn’t know how to handle that. I’m still not sure I reacted tactfully.”

“You did fine, Kel. No worries. It was an awkward situation and I think we both did the best under uncertain circumstances.”

“What’s the motivation, Alex?” Kellan asked, slipping into investigator mode.

“That’s what we’re gonna find out, Kel.”

“You might want to be careful.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, she ticked somebody off. For all we know, Captain Mendez has an obsessed fan out there.”

Not amused, Alex nodded.

“Don’t think I haven’t considered that. Before I left the house, I had to calm Lisa something fierce.”

“You don’t think…”

“No!” Alex said, “I don’t think. I did consider it, yes. That’s the cop in me. But husband Alex knows Lisa would never do anything like that.”

“So…?”

“So, we explore all angles. This could have been a completely random attack. It could have been the husband for all we know. Right now, there are too many options and not a lot of evidence. We work this case, same as we work the others.”

“Alex, how are you?”

Pastor Highland’s voice, perhaps the quietness thereof, startled him.

Turning around, he met the pastor’s eyes. His hair was disheveled. Understandable for this late hour.

“How are you, Pastor? I swear, we’ve got to stop meeting under these circumstances.”

“I agree,” the pastor gave a tepid smile. “For now, if you could tell me where is this young lady who was attacked?”

“Certainly, sir,” Alex said, “Room 2214, right over there. If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what happened to your head?”

A shocked look flashed on his face, disappearing as he reached a hand toward his balding scalp.

“Oh, that,” he said, his hand reaching a collection of scratches that appeared quite fresh. “I’m afraid I was in my garden a bit long today. Got tired, so when I tried to stand, I stumbled and smacked my head on the rose bushes. I suppose I’m getting old.”

“Must have hit a rock on the way down,” Alex said, noting the shiner under the pastor’s left eye.

Looking embarrassed, the pastor dropped his face, shuffled his feet.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Highland noted.

Chuckling to himself, Alex patted Pastor Highland’s shoulder. Not wishing to prolong his obvious discomfort, Alex leaned in and whispered, “Not at all sir. Those rose bushes can be deadly. You be careful.”

Smiling, Pastor Highland winked. “Will do,”

As he turned to walk away, Alex looked at Kellan.

“I like him.”

“Me too,” Kellan agreed. “It’s weird to have a chaplain on the force, but I like him. I think he’s a good man. His wife is nice too.”

“Yes she is,” Alex agreed. “The LPD is lucky to have those two. Okay, shall we?” Alex motioned toward the elevators.

“After you.”

“First things first. Let’s make sure Tate got those prints.”

Chapter 27

Saturday, October 15

1:21 a.m.

Leaving the hospital was a different experience than arriving there had been. The thrush of media had been met by an angry mob – some bearing signs calling for Alex to resign, many shouting the same hateful, even racist mantra. Hospital Security guards stood by, watching. Either not interested in getting involved, perhaps a little frightened of the prospect or maybe secretly hoping Alex would get hurt.

Standing in the lobby, Alex silently considered his options. Ever the reactant, Kellan was less tepid in his thoughts.

“Well, we don’t have enough bullets to take ‘em all out, Boss, but I bet we can get enough to scare the rest into making a path.”

“We’re cops, Kel.” Alex admonished. “We’re not the bad guys here, no matter what the citizens believe. Boy, that Greyson! She has made it real hard for me to do my job, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, and she paid for it with her own blood.”

“Guilt taken,” Alex whispered, turning his back on the crowd that awaited him outside the safety of the lobby doors.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty, Alex. I’m sorry. I—“

“Captain Mendez?” Deputy Wayne Anderson interrupted. “If need be, we can get you fellas out through the basement.”

“Thanks, Wayne, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. But if you and your boys could lend yourself to crowd control, we’d appreciate it. They’re angry, but I don’t think they’re stupid.”

“You willing to bet on that, Alex?” Kellan asked. “This is Texas, Cap. Babies are born with a silver bullet in their mouth.”

“That would explain the absence of werewolves in these parts.”

A strange look from Kellan.

“Bad joke,” Alex said. “Forget it. Look, they are angry because Jennifer Greyson gave a false report. Now she’s been attacked. People trust the media. Period. That’s how places like North Korea and Iran are able to control the population. State run media tells the folks whatever it takes to keep idol worship at an all-time high. I still say they’re not stupid. But they are naïve. We need to show them we can be trusted. End of story. And then we count on Jennifer Greyson to have one heck of an attack of conscience. Our people aren’t looking for a god to worship or a king to venerate. They’re seeking truth, even if some of them are seeking their version of the truth.”

“You’re hanging your life on that? On Greyson having an attack of conscience?” Kellan laughed. “Alex, you’re braver than I thought. Braver or dumber.”

“Tomayto. Tomahto, Kel.” Alex said. “Wayne, you boys ready?”

Alex jumped when the automatic doors released. Turning back, he caught sight of Janet Busby’s sullen face. She was followed by 4 men Alex had never seen before.”

“Hey, Janet. I thought I left you in charge at the station. Who are these guys? Where’s Cade?”

“Alex, these men are Texas Rangers.” Turning to Wayne, handing home a stapled pack of papers, she said, “We have orders.”

Skimming the document, Wayne’s face grew pale.

“What’s going on, Janet?”

“Captain Mendez.” One of the Texas Rangers interrupted, grabbing his shoulder. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you into custody.”

“On what grounds?!” Kellan shouted, far too loud.

“We have reason to believe—” he said, before Janet raised a hand, silencing him.

“Alex, they think you had something to do with the attack on Jennifer Greyson.”

“What?!” Alex shouted. “No! You can’t be serious! This is stupid! Go ask her! Where’s Tate!? He’ll tell you I didn’t— Call my wife! Janet, call Lisa! She’ll tell you I was with her!”

Spinning Alex around, Wayne placed handcuffs on him.

“Wayne! What are you doing?” Kellan shouted, grabbing him.

Shucking free of Kellan’s grip, Wayne’s face dropped. “My job,” he whispered, all color draining from his face. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

“Don’t worry about it, Wayne. I was at home. With Lisa. And then I went to the store. Wait! That’s it! Wayne! Check my pocket! There’s a receipt for the drinks I put in the fridge!”

Searching his pocket, Wayne found a white slip of paper. Unfolding it, Wayne’s face seemed to return to normal somewhat.

Handing it to Janet, a slight grin grabbed his face. “Time stamped.”

“Wayne, remove the cuffs.”

Reaching for the keys, Wayne said, “With your permission, Alex, I may have a way to get you past that mob out there.”

Smiling, Alex winked. “No offense, Wayne, but the last thing I need is for these media folks to get any more ideas that I’m guilty.”

Removing the cuffs, Wayne sighed, relieved.

“Okay,” Kellan said, “Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”

Wayne tapped a rather large black deputy on the shoulder.

“Pete, you and Joe got the lobby. I’m gonna escort Captain Mendez to his car.” Motioning to a fourth deputy, Wayne positioned himself in front of Alex, off center, to Alex’s left. The other deputy stood almost next do Alex, to his right. Kellan and Janet took up positions just behind Alex, leaving the Texas Rangers to take up various flanking positions.

Entering the fray, Alex was immediately spat on and verbally assaulted like he’d never experienced in his life. Noting the raging crowd, the Rangers spread out, attempting to assist the deputies with crowd control. Despite the great police presence, the dark night – illuminated by little more than a couple of soft lavender bulbs, swallowed the approaching figure until he was almost on top of Alex. Three shots rang out before Alex knew what was happening. Struck, he fell to the ground, gripping his shoulder. Immediately, he felt a body on top of his. A familiar scent washed through his nose suggesting that Janet had thrown herself onto Alex, acting as a human shield. Five, six, innumerable shots rang out. Echoes made it difficult for Alex to count the actual shots, amid the pain and confusion.

As the gunfire subsided, Alex became keenly aware of blood dancing across his face. He’d scraped his cheek, or maybe his chin, in the fall to the ground. Though it was the throbbing shoulder that drew the majority of his attention.

“You’re hit!” Janet shrieked, raising her head. “Kellan! Alex is hit!”

Raising up, Janet turned around. Screamed.

Startled, Alex sprang to a seated position on the ground. The image swam in and out of focus. Around him, sound seemed muffled, as if his head was under water. Trying to stand, a shooting pain flashed through his knee. Finding himself on all fours, he was barely able to crawl toward the body of his fallen comrade.

Fighting for his senses, he searched for a pulse. Weak, but definite, Alex screamed for a doctor. To his right, he noticed a craggy, dirty man being taken into custody. He screamed obscenities and fought against the handcuffs and the officers restraining him, to no avail.

Turning his attention back to his fallen friend, Alex checked again for a pulse.

Nothing.

Moving his fingers, he searched frantically for a pulse. Nothing. Anger flashed white, mixed with the overwhelming sense of urgency. He searched for blood and couldn’t find any. He hadn’t been hit in the chest, nor the stomach. Scanning up and down, both visually and with his hands Alex – now joined by Janet and Wayne – searched to find the wound. Bending an ear down, Alex could detect no discernible breath sounds. As Janet began CPR, Alex could only watch as his friend’s lifeless body lurched, twitched but failed to respond. A team of doctors rushed out and, tearing the shirt open, shocked him once, then twice, barking orders at law enforcement members as a medic on a battlefield might when confronted with the platoon leader.

Just as quickly as they started CPR, they stopped. Still too weak to stand, being attended by another medical person, Alex began to feel dizzy. He heard her say something to him, but was too focused to recall what she’d said.

Must stay awake, he thought, suddenly unable to control his tongue. His head grew foggy. His vision fanned between darkness and light.

“Okay, that’s it,” he heard one of the doctors say, “Let’s get inside.”

Fading, he smelled Janet’s perfume. He thought perhaps her silhouette had materialized.

“You’re going to be okay, Alex,” she said, crying. “Alex, I’m so sorry.”

Sorry? Sorry for what? What happened? Wait. What—How is—Focus!

As he was lifted on the gurney, consciousness fading, Alex looked at his lifeless friend laying on a gurney next to him. Blinking back tears, he glanced at the sidewalk where his friend had fallen. Though it was dark, his vision still unsure, Alex caught sight of the pool of blood at what would have been about kidney level. His mind flashing with visions – he couldn’t tell real from dream – Alex tried to recall what had just transpired.

A sudden shout tore him from his imagery

“He’s getting away! Go!”

Kellan! No!

Chapter 28

Saturday, October 15

3:04 a.m.

Stable. Kellan was stable according to the doctors that removed the bullet from his hip. In his brain fog, Alex had misjudged where Kellan’s body had fallen. He’d assumed Kellan had been shot in the kidney when in reality he’d been hit in the hip. Nicked a vein or artery, so he lost more blood than he might otherwise have lost, but he was going to be fine, they said. Surgery would be tenuous, but it should restore him to full health.

Alex was another story. Though the bullet that hit him had merely grazed his shoulder, to call him stable or steady would have been a serious overstatement of the facts. They’d almost let the shooter get away. Lucky for him, Tate’s quick thinking caused the guy to trip over his own feet, thereby halting his getaway.  Alex fully intended on putting Tate up for a commendation once all of this was over.

Waiting in the corridor outside of ICU, Alex could only fight against the painkillers they’d given him to find that place of concentrated worry.

When Lisa walked – okay, ran – into the emergency area where he’d been stitched, Alex had been numb, both in body and mind. He’d been asked to report what happened but admitted to several officers not being clearheaded enough to give such a report. Still groggy, he now stood holding Lisa’s hand with his good hand.

“Kellan’s gonna be okay, Babe.” Lisa whispered, rubbing his elbow with her free hand.

“I know,” he said, his speech weak, somewhat slurred. “I called Andrea. She is trying to find someone to watch their son and then she will be up here. I really hate it for her. All she deals with already. And now this.”

“You need to sit down.”

“I’m fine,”

“You’re swaying. Your speech is slurred and you have one arm. You need to sit, Babe. Come on.”

“I’m not leaving this spot until they come out and tell us Kellan is okay.”

“Babe, he’s in there with an uncle, aunt and two nurses. Andrea’s on her way. The doctor told me on the way in that he’s in and out of consciousness, but he’s fine.”

“He took a bullet for me, you know. Same as Danny.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? Honey, I don’t belong on this force anymore. Danny took a bullet for me. Now Kellan. Moe’s laid up recovering from a—“

“Moe is right here, Son.”

Moe Sutton’s voice was all too loud for the eerily quiet corridor.

“Moe!” Lisa said. “What are you doing here!?”

Haggard, his hair an uncharacteristic mess, the Band-Aid on Moe’s left hand showed signs of blood that had only recently coagulated.

“You should be at the hospital yourself, Moe!” Alex said, releasing Lisa’s hand, seizing Moe’s with his good hand. How did you even drive?”

“I’m in better shape than you, Alex.” Moe laughed. “Son, you look like a drunk frat boy during a pledge week party game. Let’s go to the waiting area and sit down.”

“I’m not leaving th—“

“Was there something in that statement that seemed like a request, Son? Come on. Move it.”

Walking toward the waiting area, Alex reached out and playfully punched Moe’s shoulder.

“How’d you even drive over here?”

“Took a cab,” Moe said, winking.

“Okay, boys,” Lisa interjected. “You both need to sit down. And you? I’m calling Josh. You can take it up with him.”

“Tattletale.” Moe gruffed.

“Love you too, Moe.”

“Where the heck have you been?”

Josh’s anger was very real. Alex was grateful that it had been squarely directed at Moe.

“Well, it looks like I don’t have to call anyone afterall,” Lisa quipped.

“Hey Joshy.”

“Don’t ‘Joshy’ Me, Uncle Moe. You have a bed waiting for you in a different hospital in a different part of town.”

“I checked myself out, Son. I’m good. Alex needed me.”

“I’m sorry,” Josh said, his frustration not waning. “Alex, how are you?”

“I’m groggy, Josh. Kellan got the worst of it.”

“I heard.” Josh admitted. “How is he?”

“Weak, but the docs seem to think he’ll pull through.”

“You think we need a hero?” Josh said, directing his attention back to Moe.

“Son, I was out risking my hide before you were a nugget in your mama’s belly. I know what I’m doing.”

“Boys,” Lisa said. “We’re all on the same side here.”

“Yes, Lisa.” Josh said, “I’m sorry. You’re right. How are you? Is Alyson with the kids?”

Lisa nodded.

“Alex, is there anything I can do?”

“We’re fine, Josh. You might want to go check on Cade and your boys. We left Janet Busby in charge at the station. She’s probably driving Cade crazy by now”

Chuckling, Josh shook his head. “Nah, Cade’s a good guy. Pretty patient, really. Much better with people than I am, to be sure.”

“You get that from me, Josh.” Moe said, winking.

“Well, I know one guy who needs to go home and get his rest.” Lisa said, tugging playfully on Alex’s good arm.

“I’m fine, Lisa.” Alex said. “I just need to get some caffeine in me till this medication wears off.”

“You need to sleep it off, Babe. You know it and I know it.”

“Where’s Reggie?” Alex asked.

“I imagine he’s at home, Babe.”

“I need to get with Reggie. I’ll need to catch him up to speed. I need Danny. Danny would know what to do.”

“Honey, we can go see Danny in the morning if you want. You’re getting a little loopy again. Here. There’s a couch over there. Lay down and nod off a while. I promise, if they come out with word on Kellan, I’ll wake you up. You rest. Clear your head.”

Nodding, Alex submitted to his wife’s wishes. Standing to walk over to the couch, pushing against the wall that had been supporting him, Alex was keenly aware that the room began to swim. He assumed he was probably swaying as he tried to approach the couch that swam in and out of focus. As he faded into some semblance of a drug-induced sleep, he heard Lisa directing Moe toward a similar state of rest.

Chapter 29

Saturday, October 15

7:26 a.m.

Alex could name a great number of ways to wake with a smile. Moe Sutton rapping on his cheeks, toxic morning breath dripping into his nose was nowhere on that list.

As he licked his sandpaper tongue across his dry lips, he could only imagine what his own breath smelled like.

“Here,” Moe said, as Alex sat up, “Dr. Pepper. Fresh out of the machine. Just for you.”

“Good man,” Alex said, twisting the bottle open, guzzling it half empty.

His eyes watered by carbonation, Alex blinked, shook his head, not unlike a dog fresh out of a bath. Scanning the hospital waiting room, he found it to be remarkably empty.

“Where’s Lisa? How’s Kellan? Where’d Josh go? And why are you not back in the hospital yourself, Moe?”

“One question at a time, Alex.” Moe laughed. “Lisa went home to be with the kids. She just left a minute ago. Told you goodbye, but said she knew you wouldn’t remember.”

“Kellan?”

“Fine,” Moe said, half smiling. “Bullet tore right through some muscles. He’s going to have some trouble walking but he’ll be fine. Probably use a cane for a while. Crutches. I don’t know. But the docs said he came through real well. They’ve moved him to a room by now. We can find out where and go see him.”

“Let’s do that.” Alex agreed, standing, a little too quick. Catching himself on the wall behind the couch, he continued. “After I get my sea legs under me.”

Over the intercom, a voice paged several medical personnel to various departments. One immediately following directed others to dial this or that extension. In the hallway immediately joining the waiting area, Alex saw several people walk by. Some visitors headed past the waiting area, perhaps on their way to see a loved one. Some hospital personnel passed, headed in the opposite direction. As a janitor passed by, Alex’s cell phone rang.

Looking at the number, he flipped it closed.

“Wrong number. Let’s go find Kellan. Is Andrea still here?”

“No, she had to leave. Had to get home to get her little boy taken care of.”

“Well, Kellan must have been in good shape for her to leave. Let’s go.”

“Alex, before we do that,” Moe said, grabbing his shoulder. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that Tate boy was going to tell you before all heck broke loose.”

“Okay, well, don’t keep me in suspense. We’re not going to commercial, Moe.”

Reaching into his back pocket, Moe produced an evidence baggy.

“Tate found this where that Greyson lady was attacked. Said it was a bible verse. Alex, you do know what this means?”

Opening the sealed evidence bag, Alex carefully pulled the slip of paper out and read it.

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who suppress the truth in unrighteousness. Romans 1:18.

“Yeah, Moe. Our serial killer is branching out.”

“And you’ve got a new fan,” Moe chuckled.

“Shut up.” Alex whispered, just loud enough for Moe to hear.

“What was that?”

“Good to have you back, Moe.”

“That’s what I thought you said.”

Chapter 30

Saturday, October 15

7:59 a.m.

“You mean to tell me this guy is on our side?”

“No, Kel. But I think he thinks he’s on the same side. I think it’s clear there’s some misguided sense of justice. Vigilante justice, I guess. But more than that. I’ve read the FBI profiles on this guy that Josh had made up a while back. This guy seems to really think he’s a warrior for God. Maybe he just likes the game and all the players the way it is. Maybe he is getting rid of an uninvited player. I don’t know. But I don’t think Greyson fits his usual profile. She’s a lot of things, but stripper and prostitute she’s not.”

“This the same God that protected the prostitute from being stoned to death?” Moe asked.

“Well, if we’re being technical, Jesus did that, but yeah. Son of God. God. Two parts of the same being.”

Kellan grabbed his hip, winced.

“Get you anything, Kel? Need a nurse, Bud?”

“I’m fine, Alex,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Hurts like crazy but I’m fine. Forrest got his million dollar wound.”

“Moe, see if you can find a nurse. Get him a pain pill or something.”

Nodding, Moe headed toward the door.

“I’m fine, Alex. Moe, I’m fine.”

Ignoring him, Moe headed into the busy hallway. Alex walked to the far side of the bed.

“I’m real sorry about this, Kel.”

“Yeah, well, we need bulletproof pants I guess. How are you? Heard they got you in the shoulder.”

“Grazed.” Alex said. “Doesn’t even hurt much.”

“Lucky you,” Kellan said, moving his leg, wincing in pain, growling.

“I’m sorry,” Alex repeated, this time weak.

“They get the guy that did it?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been to see him yet. But when I do, you can bet—“

“When you do, you’ll do your job and will not do anything to jeopardize your position. Or this guy being punished. We need you, Alex. I know that look in your eye. I’m not stupid. But neither are you. Stay focused and get the person that’s killing these girls. Whoever shot us thought they were defending Greyson against a bully. Small time compared to the guy we’re chasing.”

“Sure about that?” Alex asked.

“I’m willing to bet my life on it. And I nearly did. Stay focused. Get the guy that’s killing these girls, Alex.”

“What’s next then?”

“Well, I dunno what’s next for you, but next on my agenda is healing and getting out of here. They said I can probably go home tomorrow. I won’t be walking very well for a bit, but I got plenty of desk work anyway.”

“You gonna be able to sit with that wound?” Alex said, unable to stifle his laughter.

Moe came back in followed by two nurses.

“Lt. Arthur,” the tall, blonde announced, “I hear you’re in a little pain.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he confirmed, holding a slight begrudging in his tone as he passed a look to Moe and Alex that was a mixture of pride, panic, anger and relief.

“Well, I think we can fix you right up. Nancy, you got the—Oh there it is.”

She grabbed an IV bag with blue writing, hooked it to the stand next to the bed. Unscrewing the empty bag, she connected the full bag. Grabbing a small rubber inlet in one hand, the tall, blonde nurse pulled out a syringe from her scrub shirt pocket. Perhaps purposely trying not to appear too menacing, she offered a reassuring smile to Kellan.

“This is gonna make you feel pretty loopy. Probably won’t take too long to take effect.”

Handing him the call button, which she tied to the bedrail, the shorter brunette nurse smiled.

“This is Nancy,” The tall blonde said, “I’m Sabrina. If you need anything else, just press that button, okay? I’m about to be finished with my shift, but Nance will fix you right up.”

Kellan nodded, smiled. Waved.

Acknowledging Moe and Alex on their way out, the nurses departed.

“Well, it looks like you’re in good hands, so I think it’s time I get this one checked out,” Alex said, motioning to Moe.

“Alex,” Kellan said, “If you get this guy, don’t kill him, okay? Don’t kill him unless you have to. I mean it.”

“Kel, I have a job to do. I have to protect the citizens I serve.”

“Just do me this one favor.” Kellan said, “If you can avoid it, take this guy into custody. There are a lot of families and friends that want justice. A long list of folks gonna want to ask this fool why. Frankly, I want answers. Let’s let them have the chance to see justice served.”

“So, you don’t want me to kill the guy so that survivors can watch this sucker die on a table?”

“That is justice, Alex. And to be honest, it’s as much for myself now as for the victims and their families. I want to ask this guy why I took a bullet in his name.”

Yeah, Alex thought to himself, that is justice.

How weird that what is right is not always the definition of legal but what is legal is not always just.

Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath or to do Evil, Jesus once asked. Times like these, Alex found himself asking is it lawful to preserve evil so that good can have a day in court? Is a long-term prison sentence what God meant when he said vengeance belonged to Him alone?

Chapter 31

Saturday, October 15

9:17 a.m.

Sitting in his office, Alex updated his team on the situation. With Kellan down, he was forced to bring in Janet Busby, a move he’d resisted based solely on a mixture of chauvinism and a protective instinct toward a friend. Too, he was less than thrilled with the idea of more heavily involving Reggie Brooks, but they were a man down. If nothing else, Reggie could help Kellan with reports, pictures and computer searches once he returned to duty. In the meantime, Alex had a hole to fill.

“Janet, this case is our primary focus, period. I want everybody we can spare working reports, computers and canvassing the area. You’re our ‘go-to guy’ with the online group. I want you to go over there today and introduce yourself. Alyson will be working. I’ll call her and tell her to expect you. She can tell you who you need to get with, but I think his name is Jason. I’m sorry I’m not better prepared. Getting shot at is not how I wanted to start my day.”

A smattering of uncomfortable laughter filled Alex’s office.

Raising his hand, Alex continued, “Reg, I need you with me for now. Where I go, you go. Got that? If I take a pee break, you better use the opportunity. You don’t sleep until I sleep. You don’t eat until I eat. Until Kellan gets back on the job, you are my shadow, you got that?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“It’s not a favor, Reg. I’m gonna have to ask you to grow up really fast here. We need to find this guy fast. When you have free time, I want you reading every police manual you’ve been issued since college. I want you studied on procedures and ethics. I want your investigation skills honed, so you watch me and do what I do. From time-to-time, you may actually learn what not to do, truth be told.”

“Alex, if I may?” Josh interrupted.

“Sure, Josh, what’s up?”

“Cade and I can take lead on investigation if you want. I’m offering, not taking control. But it might save you some headaches. And, no offense to Reggie, but it might keep a rookie out of the line of fire for a bit.”

“I understand, Josh. I want you with me and Reg. I want Cade here working all angles with Janet and Karen Mason. The rest of your team can assist where needed. But too many cooks spoil the pot.”

“Which brings me to Uncle Moe.”

“Your uncle is a valuable resource, Josh, but he’s a civilian now and a friend. That friend has recently had a health issue. I don’t want him involved.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Laughing, Alex said, “No, No you won’t. If your uncle wants in, he’ll find a way in and around both of us. You know it and I know it. Just save your energy and focus on helping me and the rookie here.”

“All due respect, Captain,” Reggie said, a noticeable blush filling his neck, rising to his cheeks, “I understand I don’t have your experience, but I am ready for this. My head’s in the game, Coach. I’m not asking to start. But I got your back when the stuff hits the fan.”

“Alex, I could take Reggie with me,” Janet interrupted. “Might do him some good to make some contacts and see a woman’s touch on this investigation. Just to get a different perspective.”

“No worries, Janet. I think Reggie needs to be with me. Besides, I may need him.”

“Seriously!” Reggie shouted. “Would everybody please quit talking about me like I’m either not here or I’m a child! I’m ready for this!”

Startled silence filling the room, Reggie settled himself but continued.

“Captain, I did my time in the academy. I’ve followed you on a number of investigations and I have read every book you’ve asked me to read a number of times. None of those books are a substitute for real world experience. I may not be seasoned, but I will be with you if and when bullets start flying. I was top three in my class. I’m as ready as I’m gonna be. The only question is if you trust me or not.”

“Reggie,” Alex said, the room still reverberating from his monologue. “That was a passionate, well-intentioned speech. I applaud your confidence, first off. Second, however, if you ever show such insubordination again, I will not hesitate to bench you. Son, there’s a chain of command for a reason and it’s not gutsy to talk to your commanding officer like that. It’s downright stupid. Got it?”

Contrite, Reggie lowered his eyes and nodded.

“That said,” Alex continued, “You’re right. You’re either ready or you’re not. Truth is you’re not ready, but not in the way you think. A rookie is never ready for his first body. He’s never ready for his first gun fight. Heck, most rookies are never ready for their first traffic stop. You’ve dealt with street cop issues effectively in the past. I know. But homicide is different. You still puke at crime scenes, Reg. I’m not saying that to belittle you. I’m just saying it as a point of fact. You say you’re ready, but my question to you is this. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

As Reggie started to answer, Alex raised a hand to silence him.

“Son, you’re not ready. But keeping you behind the desk is not going to get you ready any faster. You’ll learn the way every other cop does. By doing. Trial by fire. And you get your scars. And you make your mistakes. But every cop in this room has the same reservations. None of us want to be the one standing next to you when you make your first mistake.”

“I wouldn’t want to be standing next to you if you messed up either, though, Alex.” Josh chimed in.

“Exactly the point I was about to make, Josh. Thank you.”

“So, then,” Reggie began.

“So, then,” Alex interrupted, “You’re no different. You are simply an unknown commodity. You haven’t earned our trust yet and the only way to do that is to hold your feet to the fire and see how you do. Like I said, I’m going to ask you to grow up kind of fast here. But if you follow my lead, you should be fine. Now, can you do that? No cowboy guff? Can you just follow orders and do what you are told, no questions asked?”

“Yes. I can, Sir.”

“Good,” Alex said, “Because if there’s even the slightest doubt, you’re done. Any lip, I’ll have you guarding the garbage cans outside the Texaco. Got me?”

“Loud and clear.”

Turning his attention to the group, Alex continued, “Josh, I want to re-interview that Bella Winters. By the way, let me know if there is any hit on the photograph she gave us. I want her phone lines and computer tapped, for her own safety, nothing else. I want to know if this guy contacts her or if she decides to contact him. Contact Steelman. He’ll get the warrants before you can finish asking him. Janet, the moment you contact Jason, I want you to contact Cade. I’ve brought in Escalante on this. He’ll be your backup. When you leave for the day, he’s you and vice versa. Read him in. I’ve given him an update, but answer anything I may not have addressed, okay? I need him brought up to speed.”

“Done, Boss.”

“If there are no questions, Reggie, Josh, let’s get going. Everybody has their assignments.”

“One question,” Janet said.

“Shoot.”

“How’s Kellan? Any idea when he’ll be back at work?”

“He is in good spirits,” Alex confirmed. “I believe he will be released from the hospital tomorrow. From that point, I expect I will ask him to take a day or two off. If he’s feeling up to it, I’ll probably restrict him to desk duty for a bit, but he’ll be back on Monday. Assuming, as I said, that healing schedule holds. That does not mean he’ll be back on full schedule. He may come in for two hours and go home. He may come in for five minutes and go home. I am going to leave that up to his health. But, to answer your question, he is alive and doing very well, considering he got a bullet in the rear.”

“And Greyson?” Josh asked.

“Fine, under the circumstances. She will return to her job soon, I guess. Losing a baby, though. I just don’t know how she’ll react. She may take some time off. But physically she will be fine.”

“Think she knows you and Kellan got shot?”

“If she’s watched any news, I think it’s a bet she knows. I don’t know. I have to stay focused on the investigation at hand.”

“The man who shot him is still at Gregg County, you know.” Janet said.

“I know.” Alex confirmed.

“You planning on paying him a visit?”

“Not at this time,” Alex said, his jaw tightening noticeably.

“Why not?!” Janet asked, a little too loud.

“Because, to be honest, Kellan made but one request of me before I left today and that was to stay focused. We have a killer on the loose and this vigilante idiot does not need to derail our investigation any further. I will testify as needed, but no one died. It’s not the jurisdiction of homicide anyway. Now, everyone focus and do your job. This community is not going to fall apart on my watch, got it?”

Everyone agreed.

Chapter 32

Monday, October 17

10:02 a.m.

Mercifully, Sunday had proven uneventful. Alex had been able to accompany Lisa and the family to a new church they had decided to try out. Try as they might, they had just not found the right fit. This one was nice, he’d told Lisa. Small, but seemingly filled with faith. Still, no presence of a children’s group made for a rather interesting service, especially when Joey decided he’d had enough God for one day, and declared it to the entire congregation.

At least he’d been able to spend the afternoon with his children. It was a rare treat to get to take the kids to the park, but it was better than Christmas to him.

More than once, he’d watched Christina climb the steps of the slide and wonder when did his little girl get so big. He couldn’t help but think of Tara Franks and how she’d grown up in the blink of an eye. The urgency to appreciate every moment of is children in their youth buried Alex. All too often the call of community protector got in the way of being a daddy. There was no role in his life more important than that of father and husband, so he spent much of Monday morning mentally kicking himself for letting the priorities in his life get so out of whack. He had a job to do. A killer was on the loose. But a decision had been made. Danny or no Danny, this was the last case Alex would oversee as head of Homicide.

Sighing, Alex cruised the local news via the internet. Death was everywhere. Car wrecks, dog maulings, cancer, heart disease and what the obits liked to call “natural causes.” Celebrity or common man. It did not matter. Death came for us all. Days like today reminded Alex just how futile his occupation actually was.

Homicide Detective. Officially, he was Captain. The head man. The lead dog. Unofficially, he was – or perhaps he just felt like – a buffer between humanity and the inevitable. Unofficially, he continued a battle that always seemed to rear its ugly head at the most unexpected moments.

Closing out the window where the news gave nothing but death after death, Alex opened another, not sure what he was looking for.

Unaware of the words he’d just typed in the search area, Alex blinked back to reality and saw a search list containing the lyrics to his favorite poem.

As he read the lyrics to Robert Frost’s brilliant musing, Alex felt what could only be described as a kinship with the universe. As if God himself was reaching down from Heaven to let Alex know He understood.

The road ahead was familiar, dark and – so it appeared – long and winding. But, Frost’s words rang true. Alex had promises to keep. The citizenry of Longview, Texas was counting on him to make the world safe while they slept, even if it meant Alex himself was denied the right to slumber himself.

Somehow, as if he’d found answer to a soulful prayer of which he’d not been consciously aware, Alex resolved to find the person intruding on the safety of his world. As he went through each file, he pulled out the pictures of every known victim that had ever been tied to the killer. He looked at the smiling faces that had been originally used to compare victims and he looked at crime scene photos that showed the horrific way in which each victim died.

To each one of these faces, Alex had promises to keep.

A knock on the door made him conscious of a tear that had formed in his eye. Sniffing once, he wiped the tear.

“Yes?” he said, loud enough that the person on the other end slowly crept the door open.

“Hey, Reg.” Alex said, motioning for him to come in. “I’m glad you’re here. Let’s get to work.”

“Ready when you are, Sir.”

“Alex,”

“Sir?”

“Call me Alex. You’re in the big leagues now, kid.”

Try as he might, Reggie Brooks was unable to fight the confident smile that forced its way onto his face. Nodding, he said nothing, handed Alex a bottle of Dr. Pepper.

“Got you this from the machine. Thought it would help start the day.”

“You can also stop kissing my butt, Reg.” Alex laughed, twisting the bottle open. Taking a sip of carbonated ecstasy, Alex let out a happy growl. “On second thought, if this is how you suck up, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

A wink told Reggie Brooks it was okay for him to laugh.

As they began catching one another up, Alex was less concerned with getting Reggie Brooks’ head in the game and more concerned with the promises he had to keep and the necessity of keeping his own head clear if, in fact, he was going to keep those promises.

Placing each Bible verse side by side, he had noted that none of them repeated. Say what you will about the Bible, he thought to himself, but it definitely spoke against sexual sin. Be it adultery, fornication or any other sexual sin, the list of verses was quite long. Doing a quick internet search, Alex found more than 200 references to some sort of sexual sin.

“It’s people like this that make folks think Christians are nuts,” Reggie said, scanning the verses and pictures over Alex’s shoulder.

“I’m sad to admit you’re right, Reg.” Alex said. “The news doesn’t mention food banks, mission trips and simple good Samaritans. We’ll probably never know half the people who call in on our tip lines that give us workable tips. The news isn’t interested in the priest that goes into prisons and sits down with convicted murderers and tells them about God. They only want to report on some misguided priest who gave in to temptation and touched a child.”

“Well, would you rather the news stay quiet about those kids getting touched? Alex, there are some real sickos in the world.”

“True,” Alex agreed, “But you don’t have to go to church to find them. You go into any restaurant in America. Chances are one of the employees is beating his girlfriend, wife or kids. You go to the bank and, somewhere, one of the people in line next to you may have murdered somebody. Or they could be the very person going to rob the bank you’re in. As I recall, BTK was a church leader. That’s what they covered. But they didn’t give much play to anything else. He had to be a great guy because he went to church. Only he wasn’t a great guy so church must be where perverts go to prey. The media used to serve a purpose, Reg. Honestly, I don’t think they do anymore. Too many people in that line of work willing to force a story, even invent one where it doesn’t exist. Case in point, Greyson.”

“So, we shouldn’t ever trust the media?”

Sighing, Alex looked to the blank wall on the opposite side of the room. Without looking back to Reggie, he answered.

“We learn to think for ourselves, Reg. Look at nations like North Korea. I believe the phrase is ‘state run media’? At any given time, all it takes is one smooth-talking tyrant and the media is his mouth piece, selling an agenda nobody in the country voted for, much less wanted.”

“Explain something to me?” Reggie asked.

“Shoot.”

“How’d we go from religious nuts to political ones?”

“Slippery slopes are everywhere, Reg. But you’re right. Let’s get back on track.

A knock at the door startled Alex and Reggie.

“Yes?”

Josh burst through the door, his face green.

“Alex, we need to talk.”

“Okay? Talk.”

“I was going over the case files with Janet and Cade. Do me a favor. Do you have the file on Lydia Hagen?”

Searching the files, he found Lydia’s name near the bottom.

“Here it is.”

“Page 3.” Josh said.

Flipping through the file, Alex opened it to the third page. A report of the investigating officer showed that the murder happened in Joliet, IL.

“What am I missing?” Alex asked.

“Middle paragraph,” Josh said, walking around Alex’s desk, pointing to the fourth line of the paragraph.

It had been so innocuous Alex had skipped it. He must have reviewed these files three or four times by now. How could he have missed it?

Stunned, he merely looked up at Josh, unable to form a thought.

“Wait, what?” Reggie said, finally reading the page. “How is that possible?”

“It’s possible, Reg.” Alex said. “Okay, but this is from 1998. Could be coincidence. Josh, is this the only mention?”

Shaking his head, Josh said, “No, there’s one other in Louisiana from a couple years ago. Janet and Cade are going back over the files once more to make sure we didn’t miss another.”

“So, what does this mean, Cap?” Reggie asked.

Growling, Alex flipped the file closed, rubbed his face. Pursing his lips, he spoke the words he couldn’t believe he was speaking.

“I think we need to have a conversation with Pastor Highland.”

Chapter 33

Monday, October 17

10:38 a.m.

Alex was almost in tears. Watching Kellan limp into the lobby was, to him at least, akin to Lazarus leaving the tomb alive. Bittersweet as it was – Alex couldn’t help but wish this site involved Danny – Alex couldn’t have been happier in that moment if he’d tried.

Resisting the urge to pat his brother in blue on the back, Alex walked just behind him, a tad to Kellan’s right, urging joyous onlookers out of the way.

As they rounded the corner, passing Danny’s office, Alex could see the tired in Kellan’s eyes. Tired or pain. Perhaps both.

“Step into my office, Amigo.” Alex said, opening his office door.

“Nah, I got this.” Kellan grunted, gritting his teeth.

“Son, don’t you know an order from your captain when you hear it?” Alex said, half joking, motioning toward the open door.

Twisting awkwardly on the metal forearm crutches, Kellan waddled through the door.

“Anything you say, Boss.” Kellan smirked.

Following behind him, a uniformed officer placed a pillow in one of the office chairs, on the direction of Kellan.

Sitting, Kellan let out a wince. Adjusted, grunted and finally sighed as he sat forward, leaning his crutches against Alex’s desk.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Kellan asked.

“Of course not, Bro. How you feeling? Really? I mean, I know I just witnessed a Christmas miracle, but how are you holding up? I’m thinking you’re not gonna be here long today are you?”

“I’ll be here at least four hours, Alex.” Kellan said, growling as his leg trembled. “My ride won’t be available till then.”

“Well, there’s a couch in the kitchen. No hero garbage, you hear me? You get tired, you go lay down. If you can’t lay on your back, lay on your stomach. Whatever. I don’t care if you lock the door and turn off the light. You do what you gotta do, Buddy.”

“Don’t start treating me like a baby, Alex.” Kellan said, a little too angry.

“I’m not Kellan. I’m treating you like the second man to take a bullet for me recently. I owe you a major debt, man.”

“Alex, you are stupid. You know that?”

Stunned, Alex didn’t know what to say.

“You think I am a hero? Son, that guy shot me on the way down. It was an accident. I didn’t dive in front of a bullet or hop on a grenade or anything else. I got shot in the butt when Wayne and the others wrestled that fool to the ground. Same as you, it was a freak shot. I am not a hero. So, for the love of everything that is holy, please stop acting like it.”

Still facing Kellan, Alex let his eyes drift away. He labored for a response, but could not find one. He was right. Guilt was easy for Alex. He’d left a legacy of guilty feelings in his wake.

“For what it’s worth, Kel, I wish it—“

“Don’t start that garbage either!” Kellan shouted, causing Alex to lurch back in his chair. “It’s not your fault I got shot. It’s not your fault Danny got shot. Contrary to popular opinion, the world doesn’t conspire to anger, hurt or destroy Alex Mendez.”

Chuckling, Alex looked down, fidgeted, uncomfortable. Opening a side draw in his desk, Alex whispered, “I’ll say one thing. Getting shot agrees with you, Kellan.”

“Laugh it up, Chuckle Head.”

Reaching for his crutches, Kellan attempted to stand.

“Before you watch too long,” he said, “I’m going to need your assistance getting up. These chairs aren’t made for gunshot victims.”

Without a word, Alex rose to his feet.

“I really do need to talk to you,” Alex said, assisting Kellan to his feet. “We have a bit of a situation on our hands. Frankly, I need your input.”

“Name it,” Kellan grunted, trying to stabilize himself.

“We need to question Pastor Highland about these murders.”

“You are an idiot!” Kellan said, his face filled with disbelief.

“I’m not joking, Kellan.” Alex said, leaning in. “Highland was there!”

Chapter 34

Monday, October 17

10:45 a.m.

Surrounded by Josh, Kellan, Reggie and Escalante, Alex felt less like a Police Captain and more like lead singer in a boy band. A well-armed, specifically-trained to kill boy band 20 years past its prime, but a boy band nevertheless.

“Okay, fellas,” Alex said, sitting down on the edge of his desk. “I want this guy found, or I want him out of my jurisdiction. But I would prefer found. Pushing the problem off on another group of cops is not how we are trained.”

“Alex, I’m concerned about Pastor Highland. Approaching him might spook him. You know what I mean? If he really is the guy behind all this, or if he knows who is, we confront him with this weak evidence and he bolts. You know it and I know it.”

“You’re probably right, Kel. But I want a tail on him ASAP. Escalante, you’re up. Whatever you do, don’t get caught. He’s a chaplain, but he’s a police officer. He’ll know a tail when he sees it. Get me two other cops you can work with. Get an experienced uniform and a detective you trust. Coordinate with them. A police car will make it harder for him to spot an actual tail. That’ll make it harder for him to make you.”

Escalante nodded.

“Got anyone in mind?”

“First thought, Janet.”

Alex shook his head.

“No go. I’ve got another assignment for Janet.”

A knock at the door drew everyone’s attention.

“Enter.”

Janet opened the door, entered, followed by Alyson.

“Hey, Janet. Perfect timing, but what are you doing here?”

Alyson closed the door, walked next to Josh, who matched her smile.

“We have news.”

“Okay?”

“Turns out your killer is a master of disguise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Went to talk to Alyson’s boss. Alyson was on duty. She and another person were in chats under assumed profiles. Both talking to the same guy. Phantom something. Alyson has the chat logs.” She directed Alyson, who reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of folded papers, handed them to Alex.

“There was also a photograph,” Alyson said. “Gave us each a photograph.” She handed them to Alex.

“Notice anything?” Janet asked.

“Well, one is light brown hair. The other is dark brown. This one has thicker eyebrows. Looks older even. You can see a deeply furrowed brow. Are you certain it’s the same guy?”

“Same guy or a relative. Look at the eyes.” Janet said.

Alex handed the photos to Kellan.

“One thing’s for sure, Alex. This is not Pastor Highland.”

Alex grumbled.

“I hate it when you’re right, Kellan.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not involved,” Josh asserted.

“He’s in the file of at least four of these cases and none of them in the same state. This is not a coincidence.” Alex agreed. “But, Josh, you’ve had these files for some time. The Bureau has anyway. Why haven’t you questioned him?”

“Alex, I don’t know what to tell you. We missed it. I missed it. Yeah, I can say I was handed this case mid-game, but I missed it. I’m not gonna waste anyone’s time kicking myself in the rear. We – everyone in this room that is – all owe it to the victims to take this fool down.”

Alex felt the blood leave his face.

“What’s wrong, Alex?” Janet asked.

“Janet, I want you and Alyson to do me a favor. I think it’s time we flex our investigation muscle. But, to pull this off, we’re going to need outside help. And I want you and Alyson to bring ‘er in.”

“Who, Alex?”

“Bella Winters.” Looking back at the photos of the supposed killer, a focused confusion filled Alex. “The eyes. I’ve seen those eyes somewhere.”

Chapter 35

Monday, October 17

11:26 a.m.

“Okay, this is what I want to do.” Alex said, leaning forward in his chair, placing his hands on his desk. “Regardless of who this guy is, we can trap him. Escalante, you’re still gonna follow Pastor Highland. If it’s going to be him we take down, at least we’ll have warning. The rest of us are going to set up an old fashioned sting.”

“What exactly do you have in mind, Alex?” Kellan asked.

“Kellan, no offense, but I’m gonna need you here keeping the fort down. It’s not just because of your injury. It’s because I’m going to need Janet with me and you’re senior. You and Cade coordinate with the feds from here. That’s your part. As for the rest of us, Reggie, I have a part for you to play if you are up for it.”

“I’m ready, Cap.”

“I mean it, Reg. You can’t hesitate. You can’t freak out and shoot an innocent man. You have to be ready. You can’t think you’re ready. You have to be ready. You screw this up, lives are lost, Reg.”

“With all due respect, Cap, I’m ready. Trust me.”

“You know how many babies are born on ‘trust me’, Reg?”

A slight snicker waved around the room. Alex raised a hand silencing everybody.

“Okay, so what do you need from us, Alex?” Josh asked.

Josh, we’re going to need your electronics equipment. When the girls get back, I’m going to get Bella Winters to give Janet and Alyson a crash course in how to be a prostitute. How to think, act, walk, talk like one.”

“Wait. Alyson?” Josh asked. “Alex, you can’t. She’s not a cop.”

“No, she’s not. That’s why I’m sending Janet and Reggie in with her. And we will be in very close proximity. Alyson’s talked with this guy online. She can think quick on her feet because she’ll be able to recall conversations. We need someone with experience and knowledge of this guy.”

“Alex, if we’re going to do this, I want to go in with them.”

“No,” Alex whispered.

“Alex, I’m a federal officer. Don’t make me pull rank here. I’ve done you a favor by taking a back seat but I can take over any time I wish.”

“Look, Josh, You’re right. You’re a ranking federal officer. I get that. But you’ve also been seen by the Highlands. They know you. You can’t go in because you’ll blow the whole operation wide open. You’ll endanger Alyson and everyone else in that room, not to mention you’ll endanger countless women who are counting on us to end this once and for all.”

Turning away, Josh sighed. Even from behind, Alex could see a slight flushing crawl its way into Josh’s ears. Josh took a couple of deep breaths. Without turning around, Josh acquiesced.

“You’re right. Okay we do this your way. But I have operational command on this. Period. That’s not up for discussion. If Alyson’s in danger, I’m going to be the one with the power to give the orders here, whether it’s abort or take him down.”

Alex hesitated, if only for a second, causing Josh to turn back toward him.

“Nope. Josh, you know that’s not right. Putting you in charge of an op involving Alyson? That’s asking you to overreact and you know it.”

“And what about you? You wouldn’t over react if Alyson was in trouble?”

“Honestly, no.” Alex declared.

“So you’re okay answering to Lisa if you get her cousin killed? You’re just going to sit there and tell me you’re Captain Cool in all this? Alex you’re kidding yourself.”

“No, I’m not kidding myself and I’m not kidding you. This is a plan I know will work. I’m trusting Reggie to get my cousin out of there. Reggie is asking me to trust him so I’m trusting him. You and I both know you can’t do that. You don’t know Reggie. You haven’t seen him studying at his desk, researching online how to be a better cop. You haven’t been with him these last several weeks, showing him the ropes. You haven’t watched him develop from a scared kid, fighting a raging case of dry mouth to a confident investigator fighting to be sure of his own abilities.”

Smiling, Reggie said, “Thanks, Cap.”

“Don’t thank me, Reg. You asked me to trust you so I’m trusting you. But this is what I’m talking about. I’m trusting you with someone I love. Someone Josh loves. Someone my wife practically raised. I’m trusting you to get her out alive. Not to mention an innocent, Bella Winters and your fellow officer, Janet Busby. If this thing fails, you will have to look me in the eye, look Josh in the eye. You’ll have to tell Janet’s husband why his wife is not coming home. You will have to do that, Reg. Nothing can prepare you for that. So, you tell me you’re ready and I’ll give you that chance. But, now, ask yourself, are you ready? If you’re not, I want to know now. I’ll get somebody else. You can follow Highland and I can get Escalante to take this assignment.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea, Alex,” Escalante said.

Passing a brief glance to Escalante, Alex continued, “Well, Reg. Is it a good idea or isn’t it? If you’re not ready, I want you to tell me now. Nobody but the people in this room will know. And nobody in here will fault you for wanting to be sure. But if you fail, everybody in this room will have a reason to beat the snot out of you. Say the word and you switch detail with Escalante.”

“Well if you’re going to put it that way,” Reggie Brooks began before pausing. He looked down at his hands. Even with them half hidden, Alex could see them trembling. “Captain, Josh, I promise, I won’t let you down.”

“Okay then,” Alex said, feigning relief. “Let’s break for some lunch. I’ll call the girls and we’ll meet back here about 1:00. Sound good?”

Everyone nodded.

“1:00 it is then.”

As everyone walked out, Reggie Brooks looked back.

“You coming, Cap?”

“In a second. I have some calls to make first. Go eat something good. You can leave my side for a bit. I give you permission.” Alex winked when Reggie stood there, unsure how to respond.

Reggie smiled and gave a lazy salute before closing the door.

Sighing, Alex folded his hands. Rubbing them together, he fought to remove the chill that was radiating from his soul toward his, now, trembling extremities. Shaking them off, he folded them together. Bowing his head, Alex made the one call that mattered.

“God, be with us. Give us the strength and courage for what we are about to do.”

Chapter 36

Monday, October 17

1:08 p.m.

Alex’s office was too small for the group, and Captain Steelman was holding a briefing with the Mayor and city officials in the briefing room, so they’d commandeered Interrogation One. It smelled. The trash bin was full of paper and at least one pair of rubber gloves. The camera light was off indicating what Alex already knew; that they were unobserved.

There were only 4 chairs available, which meant Kellan could sit down.  Chivalry dictated that the other three chairs belonged to Alyson, Bella and Janet. While Janet took a seat by Kellan, Alyson stood by Josh. Slightly off to the side, looking about as uncomfortable as he’d ever seen a person look, Bella hugged herself. Alex couldn’t be certain she was trembling, but she was a fish desperately seeking deep waters.

Trying not to make a huge deal of it, Alex made eye contact with Alyson, motioned with his eyes. Winking at Alex, Alyson approached Bella Winters and struck up a short chat. Reluctance seemed hard-pressed to let go of her. Of course, she was in a roomful of police officers.

“Okay, everybody. I need your attention.”

What little conversation was happening ceased with Alex’s instruction.

“Thanks,” he continued. “Now, I sent Escalante to case the Highland’s house. Janet, assuming you and Alyson don’t have clothes suitable for this, go wherever you have to go and charge it to the station. But don’t go overboard. Got it?”

“Girls’ day!” Alyson cheered, nudging Bella.

Giggling and trading winks with Janet, they nodded.

Rolling his eyes, Alex continued.

“Josh, were you able to get the equipment I asked about?”

“Yep, it’s on its way. Should be here within a couple hours. You’re not planning on doing this before tonight right?”

“At the earliest. That’s fine. Okay, And Reggie, I’m going to need you to accompany the women shopping. First, to make sure they don’t go overboard. Second, to get yourself some, um, appropriate pimp garb. I don’t want you to look fake, but I want you to stand out like a sore thumb in that room, you hear?”

Reggie nodded.

“Janet, you and Reggie will go in armed tonight. So, I suggest buying something that will allow you to hide your sidearm.”

“What do I do Alex? When we get back, I mean.” Alyson asked.

“You get in touch with this guy under a new name and make a date. For tonight if possible. And tell your boss, Jason, to do his best to monitor chats for screen name activity we haven’t seen. I’ve looked through the files. Nothing suggests an internet connection prior to now. I’m gonna hedge my bets this guy might just change his name to cover tracks.”

She nodded.

“Even if he changes his name,” she said, “We’ll be able to log his ISP. We’ll be able to tell if it’s the same guy.”

“Highland is a cop. If he’s really the guy we’re after, surely he’ll be smart enough to cover those tracks.” Kellan interjected.

“Well, he is a cop,” Alex agreed, “But he’s a tad older. Let’s face it, Kel. You and I are technological dinosaurs and we do this every day. Highland just might be the same.”

“We can’t hang our case on ‘might’, Alex.” Josh interrupted. “Background on Mr. Highland says he has a degree in chemical engineering on top of his pastoral credentials. His wife has a degree in Psychology, chemical engineering and Counseling. Looking at the years, I would assume they met while pursuing their chemical engineering degrees. The years jibe.”

“Josh, did you just uncover a conspiracy?”

“Assume nothing. Plan for everything.” Josh answered. “SEAL training encouraged thinking outside the box. Attention to detail. And preparation. Preparation beyond preparation. I might have had to leave, but I’ve never forgotten that. We can’t take anything for granted here. For all we know, this is a regular Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Wouldn’t that change the dynamic of our little sting?” Kellan asked.

“No, we go in as planned. But we go in practicing. Reggie, I want you to get some time on the range before tonight. Shore up your sights. Make sure they’re pinpoint accurate. When you get back from getting the clothes, hit the range. Have Cade and Agent Remington go with you. You could benefit from their expertise and from their experience. Alyson, Bella, I realize you two are civilians, but I wouldn’t mind you getting a little range time if you decide to. In a pinch, it couldn’t hurt to be able to shoot.”

Alyson seemed almost giddy at the prospect.

“I may have to join the academy when this is all over,” she nearly sang.

“Rance once posed as a pimp in another investigation, Alex. He’d be a good source to teach Reggie. He and Ms. Bella of course.”

“Good to know, Josh. Folks, I don’t need to remind you, I hope, that our killer uses a very deadly and caustic substance in his exploits. He doesn’t need to inject you. The syringe so much as gets a crack and you could be in serious trouble. We have to assume that our killer may have been injured in the previous attacks. Evidence suggests his last victim fought back. I have to be honest. I spoke to Pastor Highland at the hospital when Kellan and I interviewed Jennifer Greyson. Kellan, I don’t remember him having wounded hands. Maybe you do. But he did have some scars and recent scratches on his face.”

“Gotta be honest, Alex. I don’t remember seeing any scars on Highland, but then I got shot, so that might have affected my memory a tad.”

An uncomfortable laughter echoed.

“Everybody, get your stuff together. I’m going to go inform Escalante to be aware of Bonnie and Clyde.”

Walking out, Alex felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned and found himself nearly face to face with Bella Winters.

“Captain Mendez, could I talk to you in private?”

“Certainly, Ms. Winters. We’ll talk in my office.”

Chapter 37

Monday, October 17

1:32 p.m.

“I’m sorry.”

Alex had stopped counting Bella Winters’ apologies. He’d grown too frustrated after about the tenth one. Seated in a chair immediately in front of his own office chair, Bella hugged herself and tilted back and forth as of listening to some music only she could hear. But this was no music causing her rhythmic lilting. Rather, this was a nervousness that was weighing on her entire countenance. Sitting on the corner of his desk, staring down at Bella, waging a futile attempt to will her to make eye contact with him, Alex wrestled with emotions that seemed to swirl in and out, as if teetering between reality and some unseen fantasy world where everything goes as planned, the good guys always win and what’s right is never the hard thing to do.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” he reassured her. “You’re a civilian. This is our job to catch this guy. I figured I would send you in there because you had talked to the guy online. You and Alyson would be able to judge things the rest of us might not. You’d catch phrases common to him, ticks, habits more readily than we will. But nobody is going to force you to do anything you do not want to do.”

It was about the third time he’d said the same thing, a little different each time perhaps. He’d even surprised himself how little fight he’d put when Bella first told him she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of putting her life at risk by confronting Pastor Highland. Alex had shown her a picture of the man, certain that the unimposing figure of Pastor Highland would give her more courage. He’d reminded her that she’d be in there with Reggie and Janet, both of whom would be armed.

In the end, she was not a cop. She had, however, dealt with far too many of them in her life and her eyes bore the scars of stories Alex wasn’t sure he’d ever want to hear.

When his desk phone rang, Alex ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“Nah,” he said, “I have voicemail.”

“Captain Mendez, I’m—“

“Done apologizing,” Alex said, half laughing. “Hey, look, we’re all new at something. You remember that this captain thing is not familiar to me either, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re good at your job. You’re very brave to put your life on the line like that. I never could.”

Standing up, Alex moved to the seat next to Bella Winters. He moved the seat back a couple inches, turned it toward her slightly.

“My friend, I want you to know something. You don’t know how brave you are.”

Bella laughed so loud it echoed through Alex’s office.

“I’m serious. You face things every day – every night, maybe – that many folks could only imagine. I don’t know your story, but I have heard the stories of many ladies just like you. Forced into this life by someone you trusted. Or by circumstances that got out of control too fast for you to handle. A year or so ago, I talked to one woman who got into the business because the gas company was going to cut her off. And she had three small children to care for. In Texas. In February. We may not get cold like Minnesota, but it’s a wet cold down here. That lady had lost her job and, according to her, had sent out more than ten resume’ and cover letters. She kept the heat on, but CPS came for the children when she was arrested.”

Bella’s face went pale. For all of a second, her shocked eyes made contact with Alex.

You’ll be glad to hear she is working with the courts to get her babies back. I told her I’d help her get back on her feet and I do help her as much as I can. I have a lot on my plate, but I know all the resources and all the right buttons to push. I helped her and I can help you.”

A look that could only be described as defeat settled on Bella Winters’ face.

“Tell you another story.” Alex said.

“Remember the Kramer murder?”

Silent, she nodded.

“He had a teenage daughter that had gotten pregnant. That gal is smart as can be, mind you. But young love is what it is. The night I arrested her father’s killer, this girl was essentially orphaned with a little brother to take care of and a baby on the way.”

“Did she…I mean, she didn’t start this life did she?”

“No,” Alex said. “In fact, she’s found a wonderful birth family for the baby. She’s gonna graduate this year. She and the little brother are lucky. They live with family. But I see them too. I’m like the uncle they never had, I guess.”

“You know, there’s this girl. Well, she’s a woman really. About your age. I’d love to see her get out of the business.”

Leaning forward just slightly, trying to appear sympathetic, Alex said, “There’s a little girl I know. About your age I’d love to see her get out of the business.”

Her face blushed and, again uncomfortable, she looked away.

As if talking to his daughter over a skinned knee, Alex nudged her chin and met her eyes to his.

“When this is over, if you want out, I’ll help you. My wife and I know a lot of people. We have friends everywhere. Whatever you need, we’ll work on it. Did you graduate high school?”

Choking on the tears that were welling up, she could only nod.

“Well, good. We’ll find you a job. Get you on your feet. Would you like that?”

Again, a nod. When she blinked, a single tear leapt from her eye and found its way onto Alex’s extending hand. He chuckled to himself as the teardrop rolled off his hand and fell to the floor. Alex reached for a Kleenex, but the box was just out of his reach, causing him to partially rise out of his chair.

Sitting back down, his knees popped and crackled noticeably.

“That’s what police work will do for ya,” he laughed, rubbing his knee.

“I wouldn’t mind being a cop.” Bella said. “It’d be nice to be a hero for once.”

“Well, if you decide you want to be a hero, you could always help us catch the guy that killed Marisol Velasquez.”

Standing, he patted her arm. Turning away, he walked around his desk, opened the blinds and stared out into the sunny, October sky. It was such a beautiful day outside he’d almost forgotten what he was about to say.

“You’re a good woman, my friend. Somewhere along the way, you just started believing you weren’t good enough. Well, you are. You are to me, you are to everyone in that room. You are to God. You’re enough. Unless I miss my guess, your friend thought so too.”

When she didn’t reply, Alex turned around.

“How’d she do it,” he whispered out loud. How had she gotten up, opened the office door without making a sound and walked out? He’d thought about chasing her and decided against it.

“Okay, God,” Alex sighed, sitting in his chair. “I leave her in your hands now.”

Chapter 38

Monday, October 17

4:32 p.m.

They had looked everywhere and time was running short. Bella Winters was not at her apartment. None of the neighbors had admitted seeing her in the last couple of hours, but in that neighborhood, Alex knew he could not be sure they were being honest. She wasn’t in the park and, if she was wandering the streets, she was a master at disguise. Alex had used considerable pull to have several uniformed officers on the lookout for her. Some would argue it was a terrible misuse of resources. To Alex, desperate times called for desperate measures. Such an evil person on the loose that Alex was more desperate than he could remember being, on the job, in some time.

Alex had wanted to be as realistic as possible with the sting. Pastor Highland – if he was the guilty party – was many things, but stupid was not among them.

Sitting in his squeaky office chair, Alex couldn’t help but stare at his desk phone. It rang twice in the last hour. Once from the officers he’d sent to look for her. The other from Lisa just asking how things were going. It’s not every day that a call from Lisa failed to work magic on Alex’s soul.

He felt like a disappointed five year old on Christmas morning. All he could think is, “well this sucks!”

A knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened, causing the room to echo with crackling sounds.

“There you are, Alex.”

“Hey, Alyson. Come in. What’s up?”

She appeared positively forlorn.

“We have news. We went back and talked to Jase. He and I got on the computer and started going room to room making conversation. None of the names matched the ones we had for the pictures and none sent pictures of themselves.”

“How is this good news?” Alex snapped.

“I didn’t say good news. I said news. I’m just updating you, Alex.”

“You couldn’t update me on the phone?”

Closing the door, she came in and sat down in a seat positioned directly across from him.

“Okay, look, I know you’re upset, but snapping at me isn’t going to help.”

A loud chuckle surprised Alex and Alyson both.

“You sounded just like Lisa there.”

“It’s a Warner trait. All us gals have a way with men. Now snap to, mister!”

Laughing again, he agreed, “You sure do. Seems like you and Josh got a good thing going.”

“He’s a great guy,” she said, unable to hide the rising blush. “Better than I deserve, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, well if he does you wrong, I am gonna shoot him.”

Laughing, Alyson winked, “You got a deal. But, honestly, I think you’ll have very little to worry about. He’s very respectful. We both have our past, but we’ve both agreed that we’re going to wait. He’s very respectful.”

“You said that already.” Alex chuckled. “I’m glad he’s a good guy. I really sensed that about him. But, hey, Lisa’s cousin is my cousin, Baby Girl. I’m quite protective over you, so be sure he knows I’m watching.”

Laughing again, Alyson said, “Oh, he knows. He’s a very observant guy and he doesn’t say anything to you about it, but he’s very aware of when eyes are on us.”

“Eyes, ears. If I can figure out how to hide them where he couldn’t find them, listening devices.”

“You better not!” Alyson laughed again. “Okay, I’m heading back in to see if I can get this guy. We’ll find him, Alex. Just you wait and see.”

“You gals get your, uh, uniforms?”

“Yep, we did. You should see what Reggie got! Oh man! He’s so the part! Agent Remington has already taken it upon himself to coach him a little on various things. I don’t know how Reggie keeps from busting a gut, but I guess it’s easier when you have Rance Remington in your face like a Marine Drill Sergeant. You wouldn’t know it, but that dude has a lot of soul for a white guy.” She sounded a little too giddy about the situation. Alex resisted the urge to challenge the civilian’s ignorance in that moment. He’d want her focused later, but burying her under worry would do more to undo her calm mindset than to focus her.

“Um, aren’t you a white girl?” Alex asked, winking.

“Yeah, but women are different. Rhythm comes easy for pretty much all of us.”

“Yeah, but I wish you gals had a little coaching on how to be like a real prostitute.”

“Alex, honestly, how hard do you think it is? You just appear to let go of your morality, flirt a lot and show a little cleavage. Hate to say it, but most guys are that simple. Guys that would go for prostitutes anyway. Porn addicts. Do that and the guy will be putty in our hands. Guys aren’t complicated until they’ve learned to think above the waist. Some guys never do.”

“I’m sure every victim he’s killed over the years has thought the same thing. If Pastor Highland is the guy we’re after, he’s not some teenager watching porn vids online. He’s smart. He’s motivated. And, maybe, a little bit crazy. Alyson, I love you, but do you understand this isn’t a game? This isn’t some pervert thinking with his crotch. This is a killer. A cold, evil killer.”

“Point taken,” she said, suddenly very serious. “Okay, I’m out. You need anything?”

“Alyson, I’m serious. I have not wanted to freak you out, but maybe you do need a reality check. I am risking a lot by even suggesting you should go in there. If Pastor Highland has a gun, as we expect he will, you could very well be sharing your last moments with Josh the next time you see him. He, or you, could get killed. This is not a video game where you can just reset it and start again. If you die in there, it’s for real.”

He’d said too much. As the color faded from Alyson’s face, he had fought hard, as if outside his own body, to stop talking. But no amount of resistance could prevent the verbal warning he’d just levied.

“You need anything else before I go?” she asked again, her voice shaking.

Silent, he shook his head. Waved a hand and pretend to retreat into the many files of murdered girls who’d fallen victim to murderous rage.

As Alyson left, a nervous tremor snaked its way up Alex’s back. He didn’t know why, but his adrenaline had begun to flow.

And he was a ball of nerves because of it.

Sifting through the files, Alex hoped something would jump out at him. Something he’d missed in the innumerable times he’d reviewed the files. The victims were of various ethnicities. Their names were not alphabetical. They ranged in age from 18 to 44. Some were prostitutes, some were exotic dancers. One was a ballerina with no obvious connection to anything seedy, impure or sinister. An accident? An anomaly? A case misconnected to the others? Or had she harbored a dark secret to which only her killer was privy.

Another knock at the door.

“Yes?” Alex called.

Opening the door, Janet spoke before she appeared.

“Hey, Buddy, got a minute?”

“Certainly. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that we’re still looking for that girl. But we have a lead. There was a print on Greyson’s leg. A partial. We ran it through every known database and got a match.”

Resisting the urge to fist pump, Alex smiled.

“Don’t tell me. Pastor Highland?”

“No. Turns out it belonged to her husband. We checked. He’d helped her put the leg on that morning. She suffers from carpel tunnel and apparently her wrists were bothering her that morning. According to both of them, it’s not uncommon for him to help her in this manner.”

“So, basically, we’re back to square one? Tell me how that’s a lead.”

“Not exactly. Some guys went back out there and we found a shoe print. The area has been secured, so no one other than cops and feds have been there, but this one was a running shoe. And did not match any shoe Greyson or her husband had in their closets. Did match the bloody print we found. I think we can say where he was laying in wait, so to speak.”

“Specs?”

“Size 9, we think. Maybe ten. Lab’s running it. Whoever this guy is, he has small feet for a dude. Another partial was found not far away. This person also had a very narrow gait. We’ve already determined that Mr. Greyson wore a size 12. Too big to be this shoe’s owner.”

The door seemed almost to creep open. A head peered around the edge. Shocked, Janet froze in place.

“Hey, Alex. You got a minute to speak to me?”

“Uh, sure,” Alex stammered, slapping the files closed, “Come in, Pastor Highland. What can I do for you?”

Chapter 39

Monday, October 17

4:59 p.m.

“Honestly, Alex, I just wanted to come by and check on you. I don’t know what you’ve been working on, but I know you’re under a lot of stress, what with Kellan getting shot and everything. I am here if you need to talk. If you need guidance. I know you can’t talk about the specifics of the case, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check on you, Son.”

“I really appreciate that,” Alex said. At first, he hid his nervousness, but decided to let it show, if only to feed into Highland’s conversation. Was he fishing? Was he checking to see how close we were? Was he biding his time? Planning his escape?

Janet had left quickly and without introduction, but the jig was up, at least in part. They’d have to adapt the plans now. Alex knew it and he was kicking himself. Highland had already seen their High Card.

This is why you’re not a leader, Alex thought. Adaptation is not your strong suit.

Don’t show your hand, Alex kept telling himself. Don’t spook this guy!

“I just wish we had better leads,” he said. “We can’t absolve Mrs. Greyson’s husband yet.”

“Well, you just trust your instincts, Alex. They’ll lead you right.”

“I’m afraid they’ll lead me down a pretty dark road,” he admitted, almost kicking himself in the process.

“Therein lies the reason we exist, my boy.”

Pastor Highland’s Irish accent lilted powerful in his jovial observation. When Alex didn’t comment, Pastor Highland let a smile creep onto his lips.

“We exist to bring light into the darkness. You capture the bad guys. And I turn the light back on when you’ve had to venture too far into the darkness to do your job.”

Giving a half smile, Alex nodded.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Don’t guess. I’m right.”

When the phone rang, Alex raised a hand.

“Hold that thought. I need to get this.”

As he picked up the phone, Pastor Highland stood.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” he whispered. “I’ll be praying for you.”

His hand! The sudden thought slammed his mind so hard, he almost blurted it out.

“Mendez.” He said, answering the phone. As Pastor Highland walked out, Alex cast a glance his way.

“Alex, it’s Janet. Is Highland still there?”

“Uh, hi Lisa. I was just going to call you,” he replied, hoping she’d get the idea.

Scanning Highland, he thought he saw a scratch on his hand. Nothing major. No bandages. Not even a Band-Aid. But most definitely a scratch. A straight – or seemingly straight – line snaking its way between the thumb, around to the knuckle of the index finger. Another tiny scratch looked to be on the meaty side of his left hand, in between the little finger and the wrist.

Without any further interruption, Highland walked out.

“I guess so,” Janet confirmed.

“Sorry, Janet,” Alex whispered. “He was here. He’s gone now.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked. “He’s seen me now. I can’t just walk into that sting anymore. He’ll make me in a heartbeat.”

“I know. I’m working on it,” he lied. “He has scratches on his hand. Doesn’t appear to be bite marks, but didn’t Greyson say she bit her attacker?”

“What about Tara Franks? She’s young. Good looking. Slightly innocent. You could pass her off as a newbie.”

“She is a newbie, Janet. A newbie cop. I can’t do that to her. I can’t do that to Carl.”

“Alex, it’s your decision. I understand that. But what choice do we really have?”

He could feel the blood rushing to his face. His ears flushed very hot. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t really fear. It wasn’t embarrassment. It was, quite simply, the weight of the situation. The loneliness of knowing that, in fact, the decisions were all his. And he did not feel comfortable making them.

“I don’t want to be here,” he whispered, a little too loud.

“None of us do, Captain. But we’re counting on you to lead us.”

“Why me?” Alex sighed.

“Alex, would you please save the pity party for later? We have a killer on the loose. You don’t really have time to fall apart now.”

“Janet.”

“Yes?”

“Nothing. You’re right.”

He let go a deep, heavy sigh.

“We’ll get this guy, Alex. Somehow, we’ll get this guy.”

“You know you’re going to have to stay here, right? As bad as I hate to do it, I’m going to have to take Kellan into the field. He can’t do much. But he can help run the show while you and Cade hold the fort down here.”

“Not the best idea, Alex. You know it.”

“I know. But I trust him. He can’t move quickly, but I trust him.”

“Well, if bullets start flying, you’re going to need someone quick on their feet. Someone agile and able to cover your six. Alex, no offense, but that’s me, not Kellan. Not this time. You know I trust him. He’s been there when I needed help in the early days. But do you really feel safe going out there with a rookie, a civilian and a cripple? He’s a wounded duck. In the field, he’d be more of a liability than an asset.”

“Same could be said for you, Janet. You’ve been seen.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have to go in with Reggie. I can be there for back up. And unlike Forrest Gimp, I can cover your six if stuff gets real.”

“Janet, I—“

“Don’t make me go to Steelman,” Janet protested.

“Oh good grief!” Alex shouted. “Now you’re going to run to Daddy Tom? We’re grownups, Janet. And, as you’ve already pointed out, I’m captain. This is my decision. And it is your obligation to do what you’re told.”

When he was met with silence, he resisted the urge to placate her obviously bruised ego.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Janet said.

“I’ll call you when we’re ready for our meeting.”

Without acknowledging, Janet hung up.

Grumbling, he placed the phone on cradle.

“I’m too old for this mess.”

Leaning back in his chair, he lurched forward when it seemed that it was leaning back too far. Comforted that the chair was in decent working order, he leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head, yawned and stretched.

Staring at the ceiling, he fought to let go over the heavy burden weighing down upon him.

“If you could see fit to bring Danny back, that’d be great,” he whispered. Less a prayer than a request. One he was reasonably sure would go unanswered.

Chapter 40

Monday, October 17

6:43 p.m.

Alyson walked in to the meeting a little late. She was obviously embarrassed and Alex felt no need to dress her down like a trainee.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, out of breath. “I wound up making dates with three of the suspected people. Well, I made two. Jase made the other one. First one is for 9:00 tonight. The other two are for tomorrow night. 7:00 and 10:00 p.m. One of these will be our man.”

“Photos?” Alex asked, flipping through his notes for the meeting.

“Got photos for the two for tomorrow. The one for tonight was kind of mysterious. Said that we’d be the only ones in the room so we wouldn’t need pictures. Honestly, he was pretty creepy.”

Alex nodded.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Yeah, he said I could call him James.”

“James,” Alex whispered to himself.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, Cap?” Reggie asked.

Looking at Reggie Brooks, Alex said, “I doubt it, Reg.”

“Highland’s first name is Jim. James. Jim is short for James. Jim, Jimmy, Jamie. James.”

“I stand corrected. Good catch, Rookie.”

“I learned from the best.”

A slight blush colored Alex’s cheeks. A chorus of chuckles, chortles and snorts washed across the room.

Raising his hand, Alex hushed the room.

“As I was saying, Escalante, I’m pulling you from surveillance. I need you backing us up at the hotel. But do you have anyone you can trust? Someone who can watch Highland’s house and tell us when, or if, he leaves his house?”

“Billy Underwood is good. He’s training a rookie right now himself. Might be a good experience for the kid.”

“Okay, I’m trusting you to get him on it. We’re talking watching, no tailing. He knows the drill, so make sure he is not seen. But make sure he knows how to reach me.”

“Will do, Alex.”

Walking away from the wooden podium, Alex abandoned his notes. The team had spread out among four of the six conference room tables. Janet and Josh on Alex’s left. Cade and Kellan on Alex’s right. Escalante and Reggie behind them. Chief Steelman, Agent Remington behind Janet and Josh. Alyson took up a standing position next to Josh.

“Alex,” Steelman interrupted. “I’d like to address one matter. Your plan is great and all, but taking Kellan into the field is not a smart move.” When Kellan shot him a disappointed look, Steelman cocked a half smile his way. “Son, it’s no offense, but you got a wounded limb there. If stuff goes down, you’re going to need to move quickly. You can’t move quickly enough. We both know that. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to leave you here. I’ll be going in your place.”

Panning the room, Alex couldn’t help but notice the smirk Janet was trying to hide. He allowed himself a few milliseconds to pass her a glare that seemed, instantly, to get her attention.

“Sir, I thought I would have operational command this evening.” Alex said, unable to hide his obvious disappointment.

“You will, Alex.” Steelman said. “I’m not even going in unless stuff goes down, but I figure I got a few good moves left in this old legs.”

“Reggie, have you had range time today like I asked?” Alex asked, turning his attention back to the meeting.

“Yes and Rance can verify my target hits.”

“He did very well,” Remington confirmed. “I don’t know about his guts, but his gun is as ready as it’s going to be.”

“Well, good against paper targets is one thing. It’s another thing entirely to have that steely nerve that allows you to maintain your aim while returning fire in the field.”

Alex could tell Reggie wanted to respond, but he remained silent.

“One thing that concerns me, Alex.” Escalante asked.

“What’s that?”

“Well, you’re putting a lot of people in that room. Highland is expecting one girl, alone. You’re sort of stacking the deck on him. He’s expecting one person and you’re filling the whole pew for the reverend. Won’t he be alarmed?”

“By the time he realizes who all is in the room, it’ll be too late. We’ll have Alyson open the door for him. Tara will be in the room with her. We’ll have Reggie hiding in the bathroom. He’ll come out the moment the door is closed. Go into full on pimp mode, appearing to give the good Pastor a choice in company for the evening. Highland will be lured into the room by the mere choice between two young, innocent women.”

“And if he bolts? He could see two women and decide they’re too much for him to manage. He could go away.”

“He won’t.”

“You know this how?” Steelman interjected.

“I know, Chief. He’s a man on a mission. He thinks, a mission from God. He’ll see it as a gift. Two for the price of one.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Well then, I guess we need to—“

Alex froze. Was he dreaming? Unable to form a word, he pinched his own hand to make sure reality was staring him in the face.

“Bella,” Alex said, trying desperately not to sound like a five year old who’d caught sight of Santa Claus across the otherwise busy shopping mall. “What are you doing here?”

At a jog, he met her coming up the aisle. Her face was pale. She was noticeably shaking. Her makeup had been smeared by tears. She sniffled a couple of times, warning Alex that the floodgates could reopen at any time. When she hugged him, he instinctively hugged back, disoriented by the odd moment. As she clung to him, not unlike a frightened daughter seeking safety in Daddy’s grasp, Alex felt the truest sympathy he’d felt in a long time.

When she let go, her chest spasmed, fighting back tears she would no doubt find time to shed later.

“We have a killer to catch don’t we? If Harm—uh, Marisol could do it, so could I. She died protecting me. That was my date she went on. I was tired. This life has never really been for me and she knew it. She took care of me in life. Now it’s my turn. I owe it to her to catch the guy that did this.” She paused, passed a look to Alyson. Alex turned just enough to catch Alyson’s reassuring smile and subtle thumbs up. “Oh and Captain Mendez? Please call me Shelley.”

Chapter 41

Monday, October 17

8:23 p.m.

“I’m really not a fan of sending two rookie cops and two untrained civilian females in to catch this guy. I know none of us are.” Alex said.

“We don’t have a choice, Alex.” Steelman said. “If we’re right, Mr. Highland has already met every other police officer on the force. If he’s half as good remembering names and faces as he appeared, any of the rest of us will be made in seconds. Reggie and Tara are the only police officers on the entire force that haven’t met Pastor Highland.”

A banging noise drew the group’s attention. When Cade shouted, they realized he’d bumped his head on the desk. As he crawled out from under the table, he rubbed his head.

“Equipment check is fine. We have enough juice to run what we need.”

“Good deal, Cade.” Steelman said. “One less thing to worry about.”

“We’ll be okay, Cap,” Reggie declared, his voice a shaky whisper. Clearing his throat, he continued. “I got this!”

“Reggie,” Alex said, “I am not sure you understand the seriousness of this. You’ll have a loaded weapon with you for the first time in the field. And if either you, Alyson, Tara or Shelley is in danger, you will have to make a very tough call as to whether or not to use deadly force. Opt to use it on an unarmed person or shoot an innocent bystander and you could be done. Do you understand that, should you opt to use deadly force, there’ll be an investigation? And do you also grasp the ramifications of hesitation if you worry about the investigation and neglect to stop this person from killing you, Shelley, Tara or Alyson?”

“Cap, I promise you.” Reggie answered, his face resolute. “There is nothing left for me to do but to get out there in the fight. I’ve been through all the tests. I’ve seen how an investigation works. I’ve studied the reports so much I can just about recite them all. I know this guy inside and out. Nobody knows this guy better than me, Cap. Not even you. At some point, I’ve got to get out there and show there’s more to me than schlepping for the brass and filing reports.”

“Son, don’t get an attitude,” Chief Steelman interjected. “All that schlepping you’ve been doing is for you. We’ve all schlepped. And we all learned why it was important. Because every detail has to be watched out for. You learn what to do by doing, and by watching. You’ve watched us investigate, but you can’t train for a shoot out by watching Diehard or playing Doom. When the bullets start flying, I’ve seen many a cop wet himself like he was in the middle of taking Omaha Beach.”

“Yes sir,” Reggie said, properly chastised. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Chief. Captain, you’ve been a great teacher, Amazing even. I just know I’m up for this. I don’t know if the word ‘ready’ fits, but I’m as ready as any rookie ever is their first time in the heat of battle. More so. I’ve done my homework. I’ve put in my range time. I just want to prove myself now. To prove I can be trusted. I will do this.”

“There are a million details to take in.” Alex interrupted. “Most of them aren’t in the academy books. And none of them are in those files you memorized. You have to take in your complete surroundings in less time than it takes you to blink, Reg. We’ll be watching and listening, but you’re there. At the end of the day, it’s up to you.”

When Josh snickered, Alex cast him a chastising glare.

“Sorry,” he said, pointing at Reggie Brooks. “It’s the outfit. I can’t help but hear that guy Lenny from Good Times.”

Pursing his lips, Alex looked back at Reggie. He did look like a cross between The Easter Bunny, Grimace from the McDonald land characters and maybe a touch of Gambit thrown in for good measure. Biting his lip, Alex fought against his own fit of laughter. He coughed, so as to mask the laugh that wanted to escape.

“As I was saying, Reggie, there’s ten thousand things for you to take in all at once. You have to take in mirrors that can distort your view. You have to take in anything that can be used as a weapon in case you lose yours in a struggle. You have to ascertain their body language to see if they’re in a threatening posture or not. Everything. And it’s intensely personal for me, as I am sending in someone with absolutely zero police training. A civilian. But not just any civilian. My family. I am entrusting her to you, so not only do you have to make sure you get back to your girlfriend. You have to make sure Alyson and Shelley get back alive. There are going to be two guns in that room that we can account for. Yours and Tara’s. And you both have to cover the two that will not be armed.”

“Alex,” Josh interrupted. “I’m not even going in there and you’re already making me nervous. Look, Reggie, everything they said is true. It’s a lot on your shoulders. And don’t let the fact that I trained to be a Navy SEAL put any more pressure on you to bring my girlfriend back alive, ya hear?”

When Josh winked, Reggie chuckled.

“All you have to do,” Josh continued, “is not get lost in your role. You’re pretending to pimp these girls, but you’re a cop first, last and only. Alyson will be wired. Tara’s cell phone looks like a normal cell, but it’s actually a recording device. They’ll never detect it. If they were to scan it, all they’ll get is a normal cell phone. And all of you will be fitted with listening devices so we can talk to you. He’s not a dummy. He’s a chaplain, but he’s trained in police policy and procedure. He may look for a wire, but he’ll have a hard time trying to find this one.”

“Josh is right, Officer Brooks. We are just trying to prepare you. Though, honestly, nothing can really prepare you for having to pull that trigger. With any luck, you won’t have to. We are trying to take him into custody if possible. We will be in this room. Next door to you.” Chief Steelman continued. “You just say the distress word, ‘Charles’, and we’ll be in this room before too much can go down. Alyson, you and Shelley are the backup. If he can’t say the distress word for whatever reason, you so much as whisper it and we’re here, Tara. You just focus on covering your civilians, but when all else fails, you know the word to utter.”

Shelley nodded, but said nothing. Tara gave a quiet verbal affirmative. Alyson turned and placed a trembling hand over her mouth.

Placing his hands gently on Alyson’s shoulders, Alex turned her toward him, locking eyes with her.

“Last chance, Aly. You don’t have to do this. We can find a plan B. These ladies can go in without you, kiddo.”

“No,” she said, her voice racked with nerves. “Reggie is right. We’ve got this. Between the four of us, we can do this.”

“I can’t give either of you a gun,” Alex said, looking first at Shelley, then back to Alyson. “So if anyone starts shooting, get down. Just get down. Get behind a bed, behind a wall, a chair. Get behind someone with a gun. I don’t care where you hide, but you hide.”

Taking Shelley’s hand in his, Chief Steelman said, “You’re a brave young lady to do this, Shelley.”

A tear fell to her cheek, hanging there for a couple of seconds before falling helpless to the carpet. Seemingly unable to meet the chief’s eyes, her gaze trailed toward the floor, as if following the single teardrop.

As Alex walked over to comfort her, Josh approached Alyson. He made no attempt at speaking, deciding to wrap his arms around her trembling body.

“You’re gonna save me, right?” Alyson whispered, as her own tears started to fall.

Letting loose his hug, he pulled back and lifted her chin. “Babe, to quote Reggie, I got this. Mr. Highland so much as burps too loud and we’re in here. He’s going down today, and if he tries to hurt you, he’s going down hard.”

The radio squawked. “Alex, Billy just radioed me”

“He was supposed to call me on my cell!” Alex called back.

“Said his cell phone wasn’t getting reception. Relayed through dispatch that Highland has left his house. It was dark, but said Highland’s car is on the mood and a male figure was driving.”

“Thanks, Escalante. Let us know when he gets here, okay?”

“10-4. Out.”

Walking toward the door adjoining the next room, Chief Steelman checked the doorknob.

“Alyson, make sure you unlock this door as soon as you go in. I don’t want to have to break it down or shoot a stray bullet through the door hitting one of you.”

She nodded, clung noticeably closer to Josh.

“I’ll do it, Chief.” Tara interjected, placing a hand on Alyson’s back.

“Reggie, before I forget. It may not be in those files, but Highland studied Judo for a number of years. I don’t know what belt he made it up to, but he studied for at least five years from what we can tell. I understand he’s an older man, but be prepared.”

“Okay, Gang,” Alex said, loud enough that everybody could hear him. “I have an odd request if y’all don’t mind.”

Everyone looked at him, waiting for him to finish his thought.

Holding out his hands, Alex said, “I’d like everyone to join me in prayer. I know that some of you may not exactly believe. Some of you may just not be comfortable with it. But this is deeply personal for all of us. I’m going to pray. I’m inviting everyone in here to join hands and pray with me. Together. One voice. You can leave the room if you don’t want to pray with us. Step into the bathroom for a second if you want. No one will think less of you.”

Looking at Shelley, Alex smiled and reached for her hand. When she reciprocated, Alex looked over at Alyson, who had already grabbed Josh’s hand and was taking Tara’s in the other.

Looking at the nearby table, where Agent Barbara Kinney sat, being assisted by Cade and Officer Karen Mason, Alex said, “You folks want to join us?”

Without saying a word, they joined the circle.

Looking around, Alex saw a complete circle. Resisting the urge to launch into a rambling sermon, Alex simply said, “Thank you, everybody. I know we all come from different backgrounds. I’m not asking anyone to accept anything he or she doesn’t already believe. But, those of you who believe, I am asking you now to add your faith and hopes to my own. Now, if you’d bow your heads.”

As everyone bowed their heads, Alex looked up, “Chief, you want to do the honors?”

Chief Steelman opened his eyes and raised his head. “Not at all, Alex. This is your show. Lead us into battle, Son.”

With every heart joined in unison, Alex sighed, closed his eyes, bowed his head and prayed like he’d never prayed before.

As he ended his requests for protection, guidance and leadership, Alex clapped his hands together. Let out a relaxing breath.

“Okay, everybody. Places.”

***

Monday, October 17

8:49 p.m.

“He will keep you in perfect peace.” That is what the Bible says about those who believe in God. In that moment, the peace in Alex’s heart was anything but perfect. He was doing well at hiding it, he hoped, but he was a nervous wreck. Alex was new to this idea of faith. His church attendance was sporadic. Having read the Bible in depth, his retention had not been nearly what he desired. So, to say that he felt equipped to enter battle with a person who obviously thought himself some reincarnated deification of The Lord and Savior Himself would go down in the annuls of Mendez history as a great misstatement.

Amid a momentary mental retreat, Alex recalled the various times Jesus would tell a person their faith had saved them. It wasn’t, according to Christ’s own words, His power that had saved him. It was, by His own declaration, the belief in Jesus as the Son of God that had healed, restored, lifted and raised. Faith the size of a mustard seed. Alex had seen a mustard seed once. Comparable to the size of the sesame seeds on the bun of his quarter pounder, it didn’t seem like much faith at all. But, according to Scripture, that much faith is all it took to move mountains. His faith alone might, or might not, be sufficient to move the mountain that lay before him, but he knew that two or three gathered for the Singular Will would definitely be a powerful force.

Despite the absence of four people, the small hotel room seemed to be no less crowded than it has just moments ago. The bathroom door was open, providing very little room. The door to the hallway was closed, for obvious reasons. No curtain-covered window was available, not that it would have helped to look across the narrow hallway to the closed door of the room across.

Only a single lamp was turned on, but the room was surprisingly bright, due to the illumination of two computer screens, two video monitors and a heat signature display, courtesy of the federal government.

“Mic check. One at a time. Reggie. Do you hear me okay?”

“Loud and clear, Cap. How am I?”

“Good to go, Reg. Alyson? You getting me?”

“Loud and clear, Cap,” she chuckled, nudging Reggie. Alex resisted the urge to chastise her, knowing that her actions were just the necessary tension-breaking of a nervous civilian.

“Shelley?”

“I’m good. Got you.”

“And Tara?”

“Five by Five,” she announced. “I always wanted to say that.” On camera, she winked and nudged Alyson, who shared a juvenile giggle.

“Reggie, I need you to go into the bathroom. Make sure the hidden one is functioning. We don’t have any movement in there, so we need to verify.”

“You want me to test the movement in the bathroom?” Reggie laughed, walking out of the room. Nervous chuckles echoed. “Great.”

As Reggie strutted into the bathroom, he waved to the camera, positioned in the shower curtain. Removing his purple bowler hat, he twirled it, fumbled it in mid-air and watched it fall to the floor.

“Seeing me?” Reggie asked, uncharacteristically professional, especially for him, as he bent down to pick up his hat.

“In all your glory, Reg” Steelman announced.

“SpongeBob undies, Reg?” Alex joked, causing Reggie to lurch up, smack his head on the towel rack behind him.

“Wait, how did you—Hold up! I’m not wearing SpongeBob undies!”

Laughter filed through the room, first Alex, then Josh, Cade and the rest.

A knock at the door froze everybody in their tracks.

Chief Steelman cursed. “He’s early!”

“Wait, we don’t know if it’s him,” Alex whispered. “Alyson, ask who it is.”

“Who is it?” She called, her voice shaking. Clearing her throat, Alex watched as Alyson shook her hands, twisted her fingers and flexed several rapid fists.

“It’s James,” he called back.

“Highland!” Alex said, a little too loud. Covering his mouth, as a scared kid in a horror movie might do while hiding in the closet from the villainous Michael Myers.

“Just a second,” Alyson called, sounding a tad less nervous than before.

“Get it together, kid.” Steelman whispered.

“Escalante?” Alex whispered over the radio. “You were supposed to warn us.”

“Warn you of what, Alex?”

“Highland is here! He’s outside the door as we speak! You didn’t warn us when he got here! Are your eyes working or what?”

Alex was trying not to yell, though it was difficult to truly express his level of urgency while maintaining a whispered tone.

“Alex, I am watching the hotel entrance. He has never entered. Baxter and Ferguson are watching the fire escape. Nothing.”

“Has anyone entered?”

“Several people. But…”

“Alex,” Alyson whispered. “Something ain’t right. It’s Highland alright. But he’s wearing a disguise.”

Chapter 42

Monday, October 17

8:52 p.m.

“James?” Alyson asked, just after the door opened out of camera view.

“And you must be Tamara.”

The chill that crawled up Alex’s spine at the unmistakable sound of Pastor Highland’s voice could not be described by the words of mere men. Without realizing it, he’d sprang from his seat, causing his chair to tip toward the bed nearby and tumble onto the floor. As the blood rushed from his face, Alex turned – slow, deliberate – and carefully placed the chair back in its upright position. For a moment, he was reminded of the scene in the Anne Frank movie where a simple chair tipping over alerted an unknown person to the presence of people hiding in the secret annex.

He met Steelman’s eyes, which were as unnerved as he imagined his to be. Listening to the goings on in the adjoining room, Alex surmised that his faux pas had gone unnoticed.

Alex could hear the door shut as they walked back into camera shot.

Alyson was playing the part well, given her inexperience. Though the image was a tad blurred, Alex noted an air of nerves about her. He doubted anyone else that didn’t know her would notice.

“She’s nervous,” Josh whispered. “Get it together, Babe.”

“She’ll be fine,” Alex said, ignoring his own agreement with Josh’s assessment.

“Looks like a pro to me,” Steelman commented. When met by concerned looks from both Josh and Alex, he chuckled. “In more ways than one, I guess. She’s convincing. She’d make a good cop.”

“I taught her everything she knows.” Alex grinned, rubbing his nails on his chest.

“Who are these young ladies?”

When Highland began to question the presence of Shelley and Tara, Alex panicked. Instinct told him to grab his gun and bolt. But he knew he’d have to play it cool for now. But something in his voice was almost benign. There was no mistaking it. Highland was doing his best to seem like the most unthreatening person on the planet. He was a trained minister, to be certain, but his voice was reminiscent of Mr. Rogers.

“Escalante.” Alex called over the radio.

“Yeah, boss?”

“He is inside. Move now. Maintain radio silence from here. I will tell you when to move in.”

“This is Bella and this is Melody.” Alyson said. On the tape, Tara and Shelley moved closer. Alex thought he caught a slight displeasure on Shelley’s face when Tara introduced her as Bella. Brave girl, Alex thought to himself. Wanting to walk away from that life, choosing to help the very people from whom she’d spent so long running.

“10-4. We’re on the move.” Escalante called.

The radio crackled silent.

Alex wrung his hands nervously. Highland said something inaudible, turned and walked out of camera shot.

“Nononono! Don’t leave!” Alex said, minding his tone and volume.

“She’ll be okay,” Josh said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“That sounds so different when not coming from my voice.”

“Okay, boys,” Steelman said. “Shut up and listen.”

On the screen, Tara walked back in view, sat on the bed and appeared to be making herself more comfortable. Alex thought he saw her reach behind her back.

“Yes, Dad.” Alex said, smirking. When he stuck his tongue out, Steelman grimaced, smacked the back of Alex’s head. Rubbing his head, Alex said, “Okay, shushing. Hey, what’s Tara doing?”

“Scratching her back?” Steelman surmised.

“Or reaching for her gun.” Alex said, heading for the door. He looked back, watched the two screens. In the bathroom, Reggie Brooks seemed to be waiting for an engraved invite to the party. Waving Alex back from the brink, Steelman turned toward the monitors.

“Reggie’s already missed his cue.” Alex noted, walking back to the screen. Cade, tell him to go, please.”

Nodding, Cade pressed a button on the panel in front of him. “Reggie, you’re up. Captain says go.”

Giving the affirmative sign, Reggie walked into the room.

“Tell Alyson and Shelley—“

“To block the door,” Cade finished. “I’m on it.”

“Escalante, you in position?”

“Affirm,” he whispered.

“I really hope he doesn’t have a gun.”

As they watched the drama unfold, Alex couldn’t help but worry. “Move too late,” he’d admonished Reggie, “And Alyson dies.” Move too soon, the whole operation is blown.

“Josh?” Alex whispered, his eyes not leaving the monitors.

“Hmm?” He almost grunted.

“You feeling what I’m feeling at the moment?”

Turning his attention from the monitors, he met Josh’s concerned stare. Saying nothing, he nodded.

“He’s one old man.” Alex said, trying to reassure himself. “One man against two cops.”

“And two unarmed civilians, Alex.”

“Well,”

Highland’s voice drew their attention. On camera, they could see him reaching toward the dresser. Grabbing the handle of the top drawer, Highland turned his attention completely away from the foursome, which had grouped around Reggie – Tara and Shelly to his right, Alyson to his left.

“I suppose this is going to be quite difficult,” Highland continued, pulling an object from the half-open drawer. Unidentifiable, it was wrapped in what appeared to be red or maroon felt material.

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” Reggie asked, in full character.

“Is that a New York accent he’s going for?” Steelman asked.

“I was thinking Irish.” Alex snickered, before returning his serious gaze to the screen. His attention drawn to the felt rag that was making its way to the floor.

“Mr. Dexter,” Highland said. “I’m afraid you and I need to have a little chat.”

“Look here, Charles!”

“That’s our cue!” Steelman said, grabbing his gun.

“He’s got a gun! Move!” Josh added.

“My name is James,” Pastor Highland said, his voice filled with an eerie quiet calm.

“Escalante, get ready.” Alex whispered, unholstering his gun, heading toward the door adjoining the two rooms.

“Ready, Boss!”

Slowly, Steelman grabbed the doorknob, turned to check the monitor.

“Let’s go!” Josh whispered, through gritted teeth. Near the monitors, Cade had unholstered his weapon as well, but kept his position.

“I’m getting’ too old for this mess!” Alex grunted.

“Oh shut up, Junior!” Steelman replied.

Steelman’s face went pale.

“Chief?! Let’s go!” Alex insisted.

“The door’s locked!”

Chapter 43

Monday, October 17

8:59 p.m.

Steelman didn’t have a choice. The door was locked. When kicking it proved fruitless, he double-tapped the lock, kicked again and felt the doorframe give way. What seemed like forever took ten seconds at most, but that was a lifetime for Alex, as his mind filled with echoes of futures yet to come, where he would be forced to explain to Lisa how he’d gotten her cousin killed by being desperate for personnel. Bursting into the room, Alex found himself in a swarm of guns, all of them pointed at Pastor Highland, whose hands were pointing straight up. A quick glance to the floor revealed no dropped weapon of any kind near Highland’s feet. He could have kicked it under the bed in the melee. Scanning the room, he found nothing remotely resembling a weapon. Turning Highland around, Captain Steelman.

“Where’s the gun?” Alex said, grabbing Reggie’s shoulder. His eyes were full of fear. The rookie had done his job, but he was still a rookie and, his gun still trained on Highland, Reggie Brooks seemed lost. Lost in thought. Lost as to a correct next course of action. Lost inside Fear itself.

Squeezing Reggie’s shoulder, Alex fought to appear authoritative and sympathetic at the same time.

“Reggie,” he whispered, a slight crackle resonating in his words. Clearing his throat, he continued. Reaching for the gun, Alex whispered, “Reg, where’s his gun? Pastor Highland had a—“

“Alex?”

Pastor Highland’s voice was fearful, confused.

“I’ll get to you in a minute. You’re under arrest.”

Turning his attention back to Reggie, Alex let his hand drop away from the rookie’s trembling shoulder.

“Cuff him,” Alex said to Josh.

“Gladly.”

“Reggie, walk with me.” He whispered, reaching for Reggie’s gun, willing him to lower it.

“Alex, what’s this all about?”

“I said get quiet, Highland. You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it.”

“Alex, I think you have things misunderstood here. What exactly do you think this is?”

“Reggie, go into the other room and wait for me, please. Tara, Alyson, Shelley, y’all join him.”

“Oh great,” Tara said, “kids do all the work, now Mommy and Daddy get to have all the fun.”

“Tara!” Alex shouted, so loud the feedback from the sound equipment in the other room reverberated throughout their current location. “Nothing about this was fun! You follow orders officer. You got that!?”

Nodding, she sank her head toward the floor. Alex’s instinct was to take her under a fatherly wing and sooth her bruised ego. Now wasn’t the time. She was a police officer. Both she and Reggie would have to develop a thicker skin. By resisting his brain’s innate urge, he hoped to allow them time to grow.

“There’s paper and pen in the bedside drawer. Y’all both get your thoughts together and start writing your report. You can type it up when we get back.”

Without a word, they vanished into the adjoining room.

Highland in cuffs, Alex approached, scowling.

“All these years, it was you.” Alex said, gritting his teeth. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Honestly, Alex,” Highland began, “I have no idea what I’m being accused of. I was meeting Tamara there and—“

“My name is—“Alex raised a hand, motioning for Alyson to stop speaking.

“In the other room,” he said. Motioning to Shelley, he added, “Take her with you.” When she stood fast, Alex glared at her. “Was there something in my tone that made that seem like a suggestion?”

“You get cranky when you’re on the job.” Alyson quipped, heading toward the door.

“Move!”

“So, tell me,” Highland whispered, sitting on the bed, his hands cuffed behind him. “How many of those gals were cops?”

“None of your concern,” Alex muttered. “Stand up. You don’t deserve to sit down. Now where’d you hide it?”

“Hide what?” Highland asked.

“The gun. Where’d you hide it? Reggie said you pulled a gun out of the drawer over there. Where is it?”

Laughing, Highland looked toward the drawer.

“You think this is funny?” Josh said, pulling him up so abruptly that his feet left bounced off the ground. As he landed, he stumbled. Only Josh holding on to his shirt prevented him from falling back on to the bed.

“Josh, let him go.”

“Alex, do you realize who this guy is?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the case against him. Now put him down. Gently.”

As Josh gingerly sat Highland back on the bed, he backed away, rubbed a hand against his forehead, turned and grunted. As he walked away, Alex sat on the bed across from Highland. You’ve been read your rights. So I’m going to ask you some questions now.

“Son, I’ve been trying to give you some information if you’d let me talk.”

“So you wish to speak, outside the presence of an attorney? You realize anything you say is admissible in a court of law, right?”

“Are you going to charge me with being a Good Samaritan?”

“What are you talking about? You think what you did was being a Good Samaritan?”

“Again, Alex, what is it you think I was doing here?”

“I think you are the man we have been looking for all along. I think you killed those girls and I think you have finally gotten caught. You’re going away for a long time, my friend. And I hope that you truly find God while you’re living what’s left of your miserable life in a seven by seven foot cell.”

“Alex, listen to me! I was trying to help those girls!”

“Help them how? By cleansing them of their fleshly bonds so that they can repent before God? You really are—“

Alex stopped. He couldn’t speak.

Looking down, Pastor Highland said, “At your feet.”

“Pardon?”

“You said you were looking for what I pulled out of the drawer. I guess it got moved further away than I thought. It’s at your feet.”

Looking down, Alex spotted a book, lying opened on the ground. As people rushed to and fro, the pages waved. Alex could see the hint of a burgundy leather binding. Picking up the book, he noticed words written in red intermingled with words in black type.

“What is this?” Alex said, more to himself than anyone.

“Where do your eyes go?” Highland asked him.

“What?”

“On the page. What passage is the first you read when you look at it?”

Closing his eyes, Alex looked down at the page. Opening them, he read aloud, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

“John 3:16 and 17,” Highland said.

“Yes.”

“See that small pink sticky note? Flip to that page. Tell me what do you see highlighted in yellow.”

“Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.”

“John 8:36.” Highland said again. “Now, the green sticky.”

Still confused, Alex did as Highland asked. Flipping to the place marked by the tiny green sticky note, Alex read the words to himself.

“Well?” Josh asked, walking toward Alex. “What does it say?”

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death”

“Romans 8. Verses one and two. I’m not going to walk you down the entire spiritual road I planned on taking this girl—uh, these girls, but Alex, I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. Quite the contrary. I came here tonight to try and save a young girl from the dangers of prostitution. From disease, from abuse. Yes, from murder. Alex, I know this case very well and I was trying to save this girl, as I’ve tried to save others before.”

“We know you were there, Highland.” Josh sneered. “We know. We have the files. Every single place there’s a murder, A Highland is not far behind.”

As Highland hung his head, Alex noticed a very deep blush coloring his cheeks.

“Alex, could you—could somebody take these blasted cuffs off?”

Without a word, Alex motioned for Josh to remove the cuffs, which he did without question.

Rubbing his wrists, Highland let go a relieving sigh.

“That’s better. Boy, those things do hurt. Now I know what all the criminals are complaining about.”

“Okay, spill it, Highland!” Josh growled.

Raising a hand, Alex patted him on the shoulder. “Josh, will you go check on my two rookies, please?”

“No.

Raising an eyebrow, Alex glared at him, “Then would you go check on your girlfriend? I’m certain that she is quite shaken up by all that has just transpired.”

Obviously biting his tongue, Josh walked away, making his way into the adjoining room where he no doubt was half-heartedly checking on Alyson, at least until she said or did whatever it was those Warner girls did to bring their men around again.

“Okay, now, how is it you just happened to show up in every town where these girls showed up murdered?”

“Alex, here’s what I know. In the past, we have followed this guy from place to place. We’ve heard of the murders and decided we were going to go there and try to talk these women out of the life of prostitution, stripping or pornography. Remember Jesus didn’t judge the woman caught in adultery. He lovingly protected her as a father would his child. Then, he lovingly commanded her to go forth and sin no more.”

“I don’t want a sermon, Pastor. I want to know why you seem to always show up and people die.”

“Alex, that’s what I’m trying to explain. It’s always the same. I make the date with a young girl online. I tell her nothing about myself other than my name, James. And then I arrange a meet. Usually, my wife is with me, but she hasn’t felt well the past couple of days, so I did this one alone. And tonight would have been no different. In my pocket, I have a thousand dollars. Enough for a bus or plane ticket out of here to just about anywhere she would want to go. In that drawer, not only do I have my Bible, but I have another one I was prepared to give to the young girl. I showed up a week ago and rented this room. I went up that very first day and placed a Bible in that drawer. When I arranged the meet today, I came back up here and placed my Bible in the drawer so that I’d have it.”

“You’re a cop. You’re smart enough to know that, if you go in here unarmed, you could be killed by a prostitute that’s packing heat. She could rob you, cut you. Kill you. Why?”

“Why?” Highland asked. His face filled with genuine shock. “Son, I’ve been at this for a number of years now. I’ve served God in many capacities. One thing I’ve learned. Dying in the service of my Lord and Savior would be an honor. Greater love hath no man than that he would give up his life for another.”

“So, are you trying to get yourself killed here?”

Laughing to himself, Highland shook his head, “Oh dear boy, no. I just meant I’m not scared of dying in the service. Truth is, we were planning on retiring though. We wanted to settle in to a nice, quiet community and just be pastors. Be a police chaplain, each of us. Maybe start a church or something. One where everyone could be safe. One where the true heart of Christ prevailed. Where sinners could walk in and know that only he among us without sin would cast the first stone. I sent Jocelyn ahead of me after we closed on the house. I stayed back to finalize the sale of our previous home. When I heard about the first murder, I rushed out here. Not sure what an old man could have done, but I’m still a husband. I felt the urge to protect my wife.”

Shocked, Alex couldn’t find the words to respond. Sitting quiet, he absorbed the words Highland had just spoken. Rationalizing, organizing. Trying to make sense of it all. Trying to determine what was real and what was garbage. Trying – failing – to read Highland’s face, his intentions.

When Chief Steelman sat down next to him, Alex startled back to reality.

“Pastor Highland, your story sounds great and all,” Chief Steelman said, “but it sounds a tad convenient for me.”

“All I can tell you is that we had decided to stop chasing this guy. We agreed we were just getting too old. We wanted a more peaceful life and, frankly, we wanted a place to call our own.”

“You have kids?” Steelman asked.

Without answering, Highland looked down, scratched his nose, looked toward the dresser drawers which were closed.

Standing, he approached the dresser drawer.

As nervous eyes considered his every move, Highland reached for the bottom drawer. Kneeling down, Highland opened the drawer and sighed.

Following his lead, Alex got up. Walking toward the dresser, Alex stood just behind Highland’s left shoulder.

When Pastor Highland’s shoulders began to quiver, Alex bent down beside him. Placing a hand on the older man’s back, Alex remained silent. In his hands, Pastor Highland held a wrinkled photograph. Alex couldn’t see it very well, but could tell that it was obviously quite old.

Leaning forward, Alex struggled to see the five by seven photograph. When Highland looked toward him, tears had filled his eyes. Handing Alex the photograph, a low, mournful sob escaped his throat.

As Alex took the worn photo in his gentle grasp, Highland’s entire body seemed to collapse into itself. Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Pastor Highland began to cry even louder.

Looking at the photo, Alex recognized the younger versions of Mr. and Mrs. Highland. In the studio photograph, the two smiling faces seemed to lack the slight care worn expressions that the older Highlands possessed. Next to Mr. Highland, positioned immediately in front of the younger version of his wife, sat a young girl. A brunette, whose complexion was almost identical to her young mother’s, though her eyes were unmistakably those of Pastor Highland.

“Ellie,”

When Alex didn’t respond, Highland looked up. His tear-filled eyes met Alex’s stare.

“Elizabeth Josephine Highland. We named her after—“

“Two characters from Little Women.” Alex finished.

As his quivering chest locked in whatever words he was about to speak, Highland bit his bottom lip, nodded.

Looking up, Alex saw the Chief standing over him. He passed Alex a confused look.

“I read a lot as a kid,” Alex said, “And I grew up with a female cousin that was like a sister. She shared my love of literature. So, I often read her books.”

Turning his attention back to Highland, Alex put a hand on his back, squeezed his shoulder.

“What happened?” Alex asked, his voice softer than he’d heard it in some time. Handing the picture back to Pastor Highland, Alex waited for a reply. When it seemed certain Highland was not going to be able to respond, Alex attempted to fill in the gaps as best he could.

“When?”

Wiping his eyes, Pastor Highland fought for composure. Sniffling, he reached into his back pocket, pulled out a handkerchief. Blowing his nose, once, twice, three times, Highland sighed.

“She was eight in the photo. It was the last photo we would ever take as a family. Just over a year later, doctors found what they thought was a very rare form of leukemia. They treated it as best they could, but they didn’t have nearly the advances they have now. At the time, I wasn’t a pastor, mind you. I was just me. Death came quickly for Ellie. Quicker than I expected. Quicker than my wife could handle. She suffered a nervous breakdown afterwards. It was years rebuilding her. Therapy, prayer and just new scenery. Sometimes, I wonder if that’s the reason we never can seem to be able to put down roots. Old habits die hard.”

Pastor Highland stopped, wiped a hand across his mouth.

“You don’t have to do this right now.”

Shaking his head, Pastor Highland’s quivering voice broke as he continued, “You don’t—,” He cleared his throat. “You need to hear this. I need you to understand. At first, I thought I’d lost my wife to her grief. As I began to study the Bible, I began to pray. As I began to pray, I began to see. I began to discover things that I’d never known before. Things about myself. Things about the universe. Soon, I began to see shades of the old Jocelyn. As I read to her, talked to her, loved on her, she began to come back to me. And that is when we decided the best way to really rid ourselves of grief was to help others. We volunteered at hospitals at first, but that seemed to make both of us worse. Doctors couldn’t do anything for those kids. One kid, sometime around 1974, maybe ’75, was born with Spina Bifida. We were in Joliet at the time. I don't know what happened to him, but doctors gave up on him. Should have seen the doctors face when the parents confidently declared God had a plan for their son. You know, He probably did. Whether or not the boy lived, I can’t say, but I realized something that day. God had a plan for Ellie. And He still had a plan for Jocelyn and I.

Oh, we searched and searched for a better way to serve. Maybe it was selfish of me to avoid those painful circumstances. I don’t know. Maybe that is where God originally planned for us to be and we just proved too unwilling. But, when God closes one door, He opens another. That’s exactly what it was. Oh, before the age of computers it was a tad more difficult. But we managed. We’d go to the seediest places in town. Into the bowels of Hell from time to time. And we’d try to rescue girls out of the life. We used our pain to show them God had a plan for their lives and it didn’t involve selling themselves for money. One girl in Houston got it better than any other girl before. She said she owed it to us to live the life our daughter was denied. Painfully, she was the first to die, that we know of.”

“Why the disguise?” Alex asked. “Why hide your identity?”

“Good Samaritan rule we sort of decided on a long time ago. We always hid our appearance in some way. Sometimes we used fake names. Not always. Just our way of paying it forward as they say. If these girls were honored by our assistance, they could do likewise. Pay it forward. I just wish—”

Taking a deep breath, Pastor Highland did not seem to be done with his story. Not wanting to cause the man any deeper pain, Alex stayed quiet, let the words digest inside himself.

“Alex? It began in Texas. Let it end here. Please. Promise me you will get this guy. Promise me.”

“I promise you that we are going to do everything in our power to get this guy.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Highland said, his voice suddenly filled with resolution. “Promise me. Promise Ellie.”

“Promise Marisol.”

When Shelley’s voice sounded, Alex jumped back, turned and met the tear-filled eyes of not only Shelley but Tara, Josh, Reggie and Alyson.

“We’ll get the guy that did this, Pastor.” Josh declared. “You have my word on it.”

Extending his hand, Highland smiled a weak smile toward Alex.

“Help an old man off the floor?”

Standing erect, Alex’s knees crackled.

“From one old man to another,” he chuckled, extending his hand.

As Pastor Highland rose, he grunted. His joints joining in the chorus of crackling knees.

“Okay, Sir” Captain Steelman said, “I think it’s time we get you home.”

“Got a place I can clean up first?”

“Right this way.” Alex said, directing Pastor Highland to the bathroom.

Chapter 44

Monday, October 17

10:23 p.m.

Checking on the details of Pastor Highland’s story took quite a bit longer than Alex had anticipated. There were still several unanswered questions and unconfirmed bits or pieces by the time Alex left the hotel, driving the pastor’s car toward the Highland residence. But, Alex felt secure in the belief that, indeed, Pastor Highland was telling a true, albeit remarkable, tale. Behind him, Steelman drove Alex’s car with Reggie in the passenger seat, likely still bending his ear as he had been for the last ten minutes. Adrenaline can make a man do crazy things, both good and bad. Occasionally, it could make a man do annoying things, like pelt a group of more experienced officers with questions.

Tara Franks and Agent Remington agreed to take Shelley home. Josh and Alyson had decided to run through a hamburger joint and meet up with some friends. No doubt the excitement of the night would cause a lot of sleeplessness in and around East Texas.

Before leaving, Alex checked in with Kellan and Janet at the station. All quiet on the Western Front is how Kellan described it. Janet, apparently still nursing a bruised ego, was much shorter with her answers.

“I still can’t believe it.” Alex lamented.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” the pastor’s face was sullen, possessing a slight ashy tone. Alex could see trepidation falling upon him.

“Yes,” Alex confirmed, failing to elaborate further.

“It means we still have a killer on the loose, Alex.”

“I know,” Alex grumbled. His jaw tightened, he wasn’t sure if the sound of his grinding teeth was as audible outside his head as in, but it was loud enough inside so as to cause him to open his mouth and flex his jaw side to side. Simultaneously, he raised and lowered his eyebrows, flexed his eyelids open and closed, doing everything to exercise the tension from his facial muscles.

“Next right,” Highland said. “Springfield Street. Then round the corner. It’ll turn into Winchester. We’re the third house on the left.”

“Gotcha.”

Turning right on Springfield, Alex had to correct just a hair to the left as the dark night caused a shadow to mask where the road actually lie. Pastor Highland let out an almost adolescent scream followed by a laugh.

“Should have warned you about that!”

“Any more surprises?” Alex whispered, forcing a chuckle.

“Nope, you’re good.”

Rounding the corner to Winchester, Alex was overcome by a cozy sense of home. Each house looked to be around two thousand square foot, with the exception of the second house he’d passed on Springfield, which was a two-story brick and stone structure that looked just slightly out of place among the much smaller homes. Now, on Winchester, a similar house came into view. Though slightly larger and enclosed at the back by a wooden fence, the house was nearly identical to the one on Browning. Though not imposing by any measure, it stood out like a sore thumb among the cozier family dwellings. Off hand, Alex did not know who lived there, but it was a very nice house.

“That’s the one,” Highland said, pointing to the big home that had drawn Alex’s fascination.

“Wow,” Alex exclaimed, “The God business pays well, doesn’t it?”

Laughing, Pastor Highland didn’t immediately reply. After a few seconds, his laughter subsided into a wistful sigh.

“Oh, it pays in many ways, but none of them are monetarily, I’m afraid. No, what you’re looking at is inherited money. Dad was a successful businessman. His greatest disappointment was that I chose to follow my heavenly father’s line of work rather than his. I’ve tried to use most of it to serve God, but the truth is we’re getting on up there in years and, frankly, I just wanted to give my wife a nice home. Something we could enjoy in our golden years. Sometimes, I feel guilty. Spending what should be God’s money on an extravagance. But, I hope—no, I believe God understands my heart and knows that I bought this house to honor the person who’s been beside me during this grand adventure we call life. I hope it’s not boastful to say that I trust He will judge me a good and faithful servant, at least for the last third of my life.”

“We should all be as good as you, Pastor.”

Pulling into the driveway, Alex found the house inviting. The shrubbery was well-manicured, the yard almost too neat. Perhaps it was the moon’s reflection off the dew, but it was as if the grass had been painted in place.

The chimney breathed a steady stream of smoke, not uncommon for this time of year.

“Well, I think I can make it from here,” Pastor Highland said, as they approached the door. “Unless you’d like to come in for some coffee or some such?”

“Well, normally I wouldn’t. However, I think I’ll make an exception just this once. It’s not that often I am able to stand this close to a man of God.”

“Alright then!” Highland said, smiling, patting Alex’s shoulder. “Shall we?”

Chapter 45

Monday, October 17

10:33 p.m.

Jingling his keys, Pastor Highland appeared less to be searching for the right one than perhaps willing it to wash its way to the top of the pile of kings rung together, held by a singular metal ring attached to a small wooden cross bearing pastor Highland’s first name.

Even in the dim light, Alex became keenly aware that Pastor Highland looked disheveled. More so than he had mere moments before. Having removed the hairpiece and makeup in the bathroom, he looked more himself, but not entirely normal. The wind had swirled and swooshed his thin mat of hair to and fro. His shoulders seemed weighted under an invisible mass.

“You okay?” Alex asked, as Pastor Highland inserted the key, turning it.

“I’m not as young as I used to be, Alex.” Highland chuckled. “I’ve had quite enough fun for one evening.”

“Perhaps I should come back another time for that drink,” Alex asserted.

“Nonsense, Boy. I won’t hear of it.”

“If you’re sure,” Alex whispered, entering behind Pastor Highland. “I don’t wish to impose.”

“Jim? That you?”

Mrs. Highland’s voice was soft, passing through walls, around corners and down corridors from wherever she was in the house.

“It’s just me, Honey,” he shouted back. “Alex is with me. Captain Mendez.”

Despite the darkness blanketing the corridor, Alex was enamored by the abundance of decorative accoutrements. Pictures in decorative frames dotted the walls. A small, decorative curio cabinet sat opposite the opening to the kitchen area. Upon it, sat several statuettes, figurines and a single vase of artificial flowers.

The kitchen was likewise decorated with ornate cabinets, polished appliances reflecting the dim lights as clear as a true mirrored surface.

Opening the refrigerator, Pastor Highland pulled out two soft drinks.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he whispered, “We’re don’t typically buy your brand.”

Laughing softly, Alex took the bottle of generic soda.

“No worries. When it comes to carbonation, I have my preferences but I’m hardly picky in a pinch.”

She looked sick. Her face held to a greenish-white tinge. Mrs. Highland lumbered into the room, stumbling not unlike a drunk would stagger down a dark alley.

Her hair was wet and strung down her back. The robe wrapping her body and the scent of soap suggested to Alex she had just had a shower.

“Jocelyn!” Pastor Highland gasped, reaching to steady her as she stumbled.

“No!” she screamed, pulling away, falling to the floor. “Don’t touch me!”

As she scooted toward the cabinets, struggling to sit erect, Alex watched, confused.

“Mrs. Highland?” Alex whispered, kneeling beside her. “Should we dial 911? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No,” she said, retching as the word left her throat. Alex jumped back before being hit by the putrid stomach contents being expelled on the Highland’s expensive kitchen tile. He’d smelled many things in his life, including vomit in many stages and forms. He’d smelled every manner of decomposition, defecation and death. This was new. This was like every fetid odor come together with any number of unnamed caustic gasses. When Pastor Highland knelt beside her he, too, heaved, though he did not vomit.

“Get back!” Alex cautioned, more out of instinct than anything.

“Alex, this is my wife,” Pastor Highland chided.

“Yes. She is. And your wife needs an ambulance. Please call 911.”

Nodding, he stood, walked a few steps.

“Mrs. Highland, I’m going to—”

“No!”

Her tongue proved thick as the word labored to escape her throat.

“I’m just going to—”

She jerked when he tried to touch her, shook her head.

Looking down, Alex caught sight of her fingers.

“What in the—”

Turning, Pastor Highland caught sight of his wife’s hands just as Alex did.

“They’re blue!”

Blueish-white, Alex almost corrected him. Puffy. It looked like the skin was going to bubble right off the bone any second.

“What on earth did you do?” The pastor asked.

“Mrs. Highland, the ambulance is on its way.” Alex said, noting her breathing had become raspy. Her lips were turning blue.

“She’s not getting enough oxygen,” Alex noted.

“Do something!”

“Pastor Highland, the ambulance should be here shortly. I need you to do something for me. I need you to get me some gloves. I need kitchen gloves, not just rubber gloves. Two pair. One for you. One for me, if you can find enough. If you have any kind of mask, that’d be great. Something to cover our mouths and nose.”

Nodding, Pastor Highland lunged toward the kitchen sink. Bending down, he opened the cabinets and began rummaging through the various chemicals and contents underneath their sink.

Pulling out his phone, Alex dialed the police station.

“Kellan? There’s a 911 call that just went out from Pastor Highland’s house. I need you to beat them here. Bring gloves. Masks. We have a HazMat situation here.”

“Alex? What sort of—”

“I don’t know, Kel,” Alex interrupted. “Just get here. Bring Cade. And call Josh. Have him notify the feds that we need a HazMat team here immediately! Gloves, masks, full on inflatable buildings like they had in E.T. Whatever they got, bring ‘em now.”

“You got it, Boss. Done, done and on my way.”

“I’m sorry to do this to you, Buddy.”

“No worries, Boss,” Kellan said. “I’m good.”

Hanging up, Alex was not sure what action to take next.

“HazMat?” Pastor Highland asked, interrupting Alex’s assessing.

“You find those masks and gloves?” Alex asked.

Nodding, Pastor Highland headed toward Alex, passing the gloves and masks to him.

“I use these masks to mow the grass,” Highland mentioned. “They’re a little dirty, but they’ll do the trick, I think. Now, what’s this about HazMat situation?”

“Her hands are blue,” Alex said, reiterating what they both noticed. “Mr. Highland, I think your wife has been attacked.”

Chapter 46

Monday, October 17

10:41 p.m.

She stopped breathing twice in quick succession. Not wanting to do mouth-to-mouth, Alex had labored to revive her using improvised CPR he hoped was not causing more damage than good.

The mask made it admittedly difficult to breath, but he couldn’t take any chances.

The thick, yellow kitchen gloves were about two sizes too small for his hands, but he’d finagled them on without ripping them. As a precaution, he’d asked Pastor Highland to get him some Hydrogen Peroxide and iodine solutions from the bathroom. Though he hadn’t used them, he wanted them nearby just in case. Contaminating what was looking more and more like a crime scene wasn’t exactly first thing on his list, but neither was dying from poison or infectious disease if the truth be told. Thankfully, sitting on the sink was a huge bottle of antibacterial soap. It probably wouldn’t do any good, but it was a mental thing. He’d read a lot about Hydrofluoric acid since Tabby had suggested its presence and found it to be a most caustic substance.

The hard part, as he’d anticipated, was keeping Mr. Highland’s skin from contacting that of his wife.

The human’s innate need to touch those we love is very powerful, impossibly difficult to overcome at times.

“Pastor, I need you to do me a favor.”

Tears welling up, Pastor Highland raised his eyes toward Alex. Silent, he nodded.

“I need you to talk to her. I need you to keep her awake. Tell her a story. Tell her you love her. Read the phone book to her. I don’t care what you say. I just need you to keep talking to her. Whatever you do, don’t touch her. Not until we know for sure what all this is, okay?”

Nodding again, Pastor Highland looked toward his wife. A single tear drop fell toward the earth, lighting on her hand before trickling toward the kitchen floor.

Outside, Alex could hear several sirens.

“I’m going to go greet them,” Alex said, standing. “Promise me you will not touch her.”

“Yes,” Highland agreed, his eyes never leaving his wife’s ashen face.

“I’ll be right back.”

***

“He’s not doing well, Kellan,” Alex said. “I’m sorry I had to call you out here, speaking of not doing so well. You going to be okay? And did you call Reggie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Better than desk work. Reggie said he’d be here ASAP. Just point me where you need me, Boss.”

“Have the uniforms rope off a perimeter. Right now, we have no crowd. That’ll change any second, now that folks are awake. After that, put on some gloves and get masked. Then I want you to bring Pastor Highland out. Get a uniform to help you drag him out if need be. He can’t tell you anything more than I can. We were together. We just need him out of the way right now. We’re going to have to figure out what to do about Mrs. Highland and, to be honest, I don’t want him in there just in case.”

“On it.”

“Captain Mendez, we need you inside. Mr. Highland is refusing to leave his wife’s side so we can treat her.”

Turning toward the paramedic, Alex raised a curious brow. Nodded.

“I’ll be inside shortly.”

As Alex turned around, he noticed Reggie’s car approaching.

“Grab my rookie, will ya? Make sure he’s suited up before he comes in here.”

“You got it.” Kellan assured him.

“Jenkins?” Alex shouted to a nearby female officer. “You’re with me!”

Nodding, the young officer jogged to catch up with Alex. Had it not been for the autumn leaves, he might not have heard her hurried steps double timing his own.

***

“Pastor, I need you to go with Officer Jenkins.”

Tears streaming down his face, the pastor let go a mournful wail as Alex lifted him, ever so gingerly, to a standing position.

The living room was abuzz with officers and forensic specialists, which included Tabby and the FBI’s Forensic Pathologist.

Now wearing rubber gloves over the tight kitchen gloves, Alex felt strangely claustrophobic, despite the vaulted ceilings and large, open area in front of the burgundy couch on which Mrs. Highland was lain.

Barking out orders through his mask, Alex did his best to direct traffic so as not to corrupt a crime scene. Behind him, three uniformed officers grouped with Detective Bo Hopkins searched the Highland’s three downstairs bedrooms and bath area. Another group was searching the upstairs.

Alex felt like he was handling a porcelain doll as he lifted the limp pastor to an unsteady stance. Per Alex’s orders, the elder gentleman had resisted the urge to take his wife’s hands, the skin of which had begun to sour and flake as huge boils festered and burst, seemingly at will. Her arms, too, were covered with these sores and boils just as her face had become covered with a blueish-green tinge.

The EMT’s gave her something to counteract what appeared to be some sort of poisoning, though they also treated it as if it were an allergic reaction.

“Officer Jenkins, please escort Mr. Highland outside and remand him to Lt. Arthur.

“Yes Sir.”

He resisted but for a moment. Tears streaming down his face, Pastor Highland did not let his eyes leave his wife until such time as he rounded the corner of the living room into the foyer.

Alex waited for a heartbeat and then turned his attention back to Mrs. Highland.

“Who did this to you?” Alex whispered. “Mrs. Highland, did you see him?”

Weak, she shook her head side-to-side, struggled with the word “no”.

“That’s okay,” Alex said, manufacturing his police calm. “We’re going to find him. Whoever did this, we’re going to find him. You need your rest right now, Mrs. Highland. These people are EMT’s. They’re going to take care of you and then we’re going to get you to the hospital.

Again, a weak head shake followed by the whispered “no.”

Standing, Alex jumped back as Mrs. Highland reached a hand toward him, causing him to stumble. Catching himself, Alex looked around to make sure no one else was in the way.

“Mrs. Highland, I’ll be right back. I promise. Your husband is outside. He is safe. I’ll be right back to you, I promise.”

Turning, Alex started walking away.

“Captain! Wait!”

The female EMT had shouted so loud it had echoed off the vaulted ceilings.

Craning his neck, Alex jolted toward the source of alarm.

Mrs. Highland – weak, unable to speak – was reaching a desperate hand toward Alex.

In her hand was a small slip of paper. One very familiar to Alex. One very much like some others he’d seen before.

Being careful, even with gloves, Alex slipped the paper from Mrs. Highland’s grip.

God, I thank you I am not like other men--robbers, evildoers, adulterers--or even like this tax collector.

“Luke 18:11”

Alex looked up from the strip of paper, into the eyes of Pastor Highland.

“This was the message the killer left.” Alex said.

Flipping the paper over, Alex was shocked to see a hand-written passage scrolled on the back.

"Thou shalt surely smite the inhabitants of that city with the edge of the sword, destroying it utterly, and all that is therein, and the cattle thereof, with the edge of the sword."

“Deuteronomy 13:15.”

“Pastor Highland, we need to get you out of here. If the person’s changing his tactics, this could be a warning.”

“No,” The pastor said, looking at his wife. Casting his gaze to the floor, he continued. “This was a confession.”

Chapter 47

Monday, October 17

10:48 p.m.

Standing in the kitchen, Alex found a rare semi-private spot where he and the pastor could talk. Clearing the room, he’d given strict instructions to an Officer Wilmington that they were not to be disturbed.

“This was part of a Bible Study she created years ago. The lesson was on obedience to God. I am shocked I never saw it before. Just think. All those lives lost because I couldn’t see what was right in front of me all the time.”

“Captain, I’d like to show you something.”

Alex turned toward two uniformed officers. His face, which had been preparing to exude frustration, softened when he saw what the two officers were holding. A young officer with a shaved head held a small wooden box with no lid. The other held out a wig in one hand and something resembling stage makeup.

“What in the world?”

Raising an eyebrow, Alex cast his eyes toward Pastor Highland.

“What is that? Where’d you find it?”

Without answering the pastor’s questions, the two uniformed officers looked at Alex.

“Gentlemen?” Alex asked, “Where did you find these?”

“They were in Mrs. Highland’s closet, Sir.” One of the officers answered.

“They were underneath a first aid kit and some clothes. Sort of poorly hidden, really.”

“Mr. Highland,” Alex said, momentarily forgetting his manners. “Pastor, have you seen these before?”

“I believe so,” Highland said. “I have a similar one in my nightstand. For, you know, nights like tonight.”

Nodding, Alex turned to the two uniformed officers.

“Lt. Arthur is outside. See to it he gets this. Bag and tag, ya hear?”

“I’ll handle it, Boss.”

“Oh, Reggie, I’m glad you’re here actually. Although, aren’t you supposed—Nevermind. Why are you in here?”

“Kellan sent me in to see if you needed anything. Looks like you do.”

“Okay, Reg. Take charge of my two friends here and see to it this stuff is logged properly, you hear me?”

“Have I ever let you down?”

“Don’t let this be the first time,” Alex chided, as Reggie walked away, followed by the two uniformed officers.

Looking at the pastor’s face, Alex felt a deep sorrow come over him.

“Let’s get you outside too, shall we?”

A guttural scream from the other room sent Alex and Pastor Highland running toward the living room before either knew why they were running

***

Tuesday, October 18

12:13 a.m.

What is it about tactile contact that makes an experience more real? Standing behind Pastor Highland as he knelt by his dying wife, fighting with all that was in him not to touch her, Alex couldn’t help but be both amazed, certain and confused at the same time. He was amazed at the pastor’s persistent strength. Though wearing gloves, he’d lingered a bit before taking his wife’s hand, assured by the EMT’s it would be okay, as they had covered her hands with plastic bags. It couldn’t feel the same, Alex rationalized. But, was it enough?

Certainty told Alex he would likely feel the same conflicted tugs of mind vs heart, safety vs love. Stepping to the side, carefully so as not to disturb the pastor as he said his final goodbyes, Alex seemed to be jockeying for a better position so as to witness this ill-fated ritual. Father, husband; these two things took precedence as Alex pondered what he might do, were he in the pastor’s place. Alex couldn’t help but stare in awe at the love being expressed in tears, nods and the occasional compassionate whisper. He couldn’t hear what the pastor was saying to his wife, but he was certain as to the gist.

What does a husband say to his wife as she lay dying? Everything his heart can utter. Things of which his mind knows nothing.

“Sir, we really need to get her to the hospital now.” One of the EMT’s said to Pastor Highland, as they carefully lifted him to his feet. A female EMT carefully guided him back as two others brought in a stretcher.

Sliding her from the couch to the stretcher, the EMT’s were careful to avoid skin-to-skin contact.

Mrs. Highland groaned a few times, causing her husband to flinch, as if about to lunge forward, only to catch himself.

“When do you think we’ll be able to talk to her?” Alex asked Cliff Angleton, the only EMT he knew by name.

Pulling Alex to the side as the rest of the team secured Mrs. Highland to the stretcher, Cliff’s sorrowful expression spoke volumes before he said a word. After assuring Pastor Highland to be out of earshot, Cliff leaned toward Alex.

“I gotta be honest with you, man. Chances of you getting anything out of her are pretty much zero. I wouldn’t hold my breath on talking with her.”

“You mean…” Alex said, as if willing Cliff to finish his thought.

“I mean.” Cliff nodded, confirming what Alex knew, but didn’t want to know.

Trying to push back his trepidation, Alex forced a comforting smile, patted Cliff on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Cliff,” he whispered. “Do what you can, okay?”

Having finished his statement loud enough for Pastor Highland to have heard, Alex looked toward him to make sure the statement was, in fact, being processed.

“I will, Cap. I promise.”

Stepping back toward Mr. Highland, Alex smiled.

“She’ll be fine,” Alex lied.

“I’m an old man, Alex,” Highland said, his voice trembling. “But my hearing is better than a man half my age.”

Unsure what to say, Alex stood there for a moment, sorrow washing over him.

When the pastor launched toward Alex, wrapping him in a tight embrace, Alex instinctively returned the embrace.

A mournful wail filled the room, echoing through the hallways. A deafening, shrill cry of pain, almost causing Alex to relinquish the hug.

“I’m sorry.” Alex whispered.

The pastor said nothing. His arms tightened around Alex.

“Come, sit with me for a second,” Alex said, attempting to pull back. Highland relinquished the hug, followed Alex back toward the kitchen, sitting at the dining table that seemed far too ordinary for the kitchen area in which it sat. Pulling out a chair for himself, Alex took Pastor Highland’s hand.

“My wife is going to die, Alex.”

“Sir, before we go, I’d like to pray with you.”

“What for? I don’t think God will heal her from this.”

“Just the same, you’re a man of God. Let’s start by thanking Him for the years you two had together.”

His chest spasming, his eyes drenched with tears, Pastor Highland remained silent, looking up just long enough to nod.

Chapter 48

Thursday, October 20

2:01 a.m.

Mrs. Highland breathed her last at Good Shepherd Hospital. She died as she’d lived much of her life since the death of her child, tortured. There’d been no grand confession as Alex had hoped for. Rather, for three days, she’d languished in a coma, unlikely to even regain consciousness, which she never did. Like so many of the cases in the real world, this one ended without an end. She died in silence without confessing anything in spoken words, though the truth was too evident to deny. Unable to speak, her last sound was nothing more than a lonely, mournful release from decades of pain, anguish and suffering. With no resolution, Mrs. Highland was gone.

Why?

Why had she done it?

A saliva match taken from Mrs. Highland provided a DNA match to the Texas victims. A pair of running shoes matched the print found at the scene of Jennifer Greyson’s attack. She had done it. There was enough evidence to prove that, though some of it was circumstantial. Officially, as no actual confession was given, the case would have to remain open. Unofficially, Alex knew, this case was closed. Unfortunately, there were no answers. None for the police and none for Pastor Highland who was forced to allow the county to have Mrs. Highland’s body cremated, against his personal religious beliefs.

“It was in the best interests of the community,” is what the bureaucrats had decided. As if burying her was going to somehow instigate a toxic waste dump underground somewhere.

Tabby had testified under oath that there was no danger in letting Pastor Highland bury the body in keeping with his wishes. Alex had done his best to pull strings through Chief Steelman. None of it helped.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t Just. It was nothing more than bureaucratic nonsense.

It was what it was.

Case, for Alex anyway, closed.

***

Friday, December 23

10:10 a.m.

“Put it behind you, Alex.”

“I can’t, Danny. This one’s different. I can’t just walk away. I’ve had criminals get away. I’ve had terrorists blow themselves up, leaving no trace of a body. Man, I’ve seen it all. Until now.”

“And you’ll say that again, Alex.” Danny asserted. Standing, leaning on his walker, Danny labored his way toward the fridge. “Dr. Pepper?”

Shaking his head, Alex continued, “How do I reconcile this one?”

“How do I reconcile getting shot?” Danny called from the kitchen. Rounding the corner, he caught himself on the bar as his feet tangled together.

Jumping to his feet, Alex was at Danny’s side in a flash.

“Easy, Boss.”

Waving him off, Danny reached down into the small basket and retrieved a Dr. Pepper, handed it to Alex.

“Thanks,” Alex said, walking beside Danny toward his easy chair. Sitting on the couch perpendicular to Danny’s chair, Alex continued.

“How did you reconcile getting shot, Danny?”

Taking a drink from his bottle of water, Danny grunted and blew out an exaggerated sigh.

“I’ll let you know when it happens.”

When Alex didn’t immediately respond, Danny continued.

“Alex, it’s been two months. Put it away. That’s an order.”

“You’re not my boss, Boss.” Alex chuckled. When Danny met him with a look of reproach, Alex cleared his throat, wiped a hand across his mouth. “You coming over for Christmas dinner?”

“Like I would miss your mother’s chicken? That woman’s hands are touched by God, Alex!”

Alex nodded.

“That they are. I tell you, though, I’m blessed with good cooks. Lisa’s a master. Poor Alyson couldn’t boil water with instructions on the pot, but you should try Josh’s spaghetti!”

“Speaking of Alyson, I heard she entered the academy at KC?”

Alex shook his head.

“Not yet. Term starts in January. But, yes, we’re going to have another cop in the family.”

“Lisa must be thrilled,” Danny said, his statement oozing with sarcasm.

“Oh yeah,” Alex chuckled, “But, the kid got bit by the bug. One sting was all it took.”

“Any word from Highland?” Danny asked.

Taking a drink, Alex nodded.

“He called last week. Was enjoying his new church in Tyler. Said it was weird being a pastor for civilians, but thinks that it really is a God thing.”

“Well, that’s good.” Danny said, taking another sip of water.

“Figure we’ll go some time and visit. Who knows? It might be the home church we’ve been looking for.” When Danny remained silent, Alex added. “You know you’re welcome to go with us.”

“I know.” Danny said, looking down his hall, as if expecting a phantom person to rescue him from an obviously uncomfortable subject.

“Don’t worry. I’m not trying to recruit you into my religious cult,” Alex laughed.

“Well, what would you say if I was recruiting you into mine?”

“I’d say ‘do what?’”

Throwing out his arms, Danny leaned forward. A huge grin crawled across his face.

“I’m back, Son!”

“Wait, what? Back? Back where? What? I—”

“I mean I’m back. I talked to the chief. It’s restricted duty. I won’t be in the field, probably not ever again, but I’m okay with that. I get my office back. And you get to go back to doing what you do best. Gettin’ my coffee!” Danny finished off with a playful wink.

“If you think I’m getting you coffee, Dr. Pepper or even water, you’re nuts!”

“Hey, don’t make me play the gimp card!” Danny laughed.

“Okay, Okay!” Alex chuckled. “One water bottle a day. But if you’re Captain again, that means I’m a Lieutenant again – Thank God! – which means I am going to be in the field.”

“You mean you ever left it?”

“Touché” Alex said. “So you’re really back?”

“Not yet,” Danny admitted, “I’ll make a couple of guest appearances I the next couple of weeks; but come February, 2006, you will see me walk in that door again. Chief and I want to make sure I’m as healthy as possible.”

“Danny! That’s great!” Alex said, raising his hand for a high five. As Danny reciprocated, Alex continued, “That’s one chair I’ll gladly give up!”

“Good,” Danny said, smirking. “I was afraid I was going to have to arm wrestle you.”

***

Friday, April 28, 2006

9:12 a.m.

“I think I’d like to be a police woman when I get big.”

“Oh baby,” Lisa said, picking Christina up, “Don’t you go growing up too fast. Why don’t you just concentrate on being mine and Daddy’s little girl for now, ok?”

“I wanna work with Daddy and Aly. Maybe Daddy will take me to work with him tomorrow.” Christina insisted. “Mommy, how come you don’t work with Daddy anymore?”

“Well, Sweetheart, I made a promise to God that I would stay home and take care of you and Joey. You don’t break promises to God, no matter what.”

“So, will you work with Daddy again when Joey and I are big?”

Laughing, Lisa hugged her daughter close, “I’m not sure that’s exactly how it works, my love. But who knows?”

“Daddy’s standing up,” Christina whispered. “What’s he doing?”

Placing a finger over her lips, Lisa directed her daughter’s gaze toward the stage. Alex looked so handsome. So official. It was all Lisa could do to pass a glance from the podium to the spot where Alyson stood, ready to join the ranks of the boys and girls in blue.

“This one is a little bit personal to me, so I want to thank Danny or allowing me the honor of congratulating Jennifer Alyson Warner on completing her Police Academy Training. Not only that, but being first in her class. I am honored to give her this award and humbled to know she will be carrying on our family tradition. Please, everyone join me in giving a rousing round of applause to this year’s top cadet, and my cousin, Officer Alyson Warner.”

So many images floated through Lisa’s mind. Watching her grown cousin walk across the stage, full dress uniform, Old Glory just behind her, the Texas flag waving proudly on the other side of the stage, the academy flag itself hung behind the 47 cadets standing on risers. It wasn’t that long ago that she, too, had gone through this very same ritual. The group reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in unison. The singing of the National Anthem as she labored to stop shaking while offering up a crisp salute. Alyson had seemed so little back then. Now…well.

What was she looking at? Her past. Alyson’s present? Or was it the future of her own very adventurous, unendingly courageous daughter? Alyson seemed suddenly very tiny as she disappeared in Alex’s bear hug. When they parted, she stood at full attention, took a single, sharp step backwards, saluted her superior officer before side stepping toward Chief Steelman, the mayor, city council members and, of course, Danny and Kellan.

“Bow your heads with me,” Pastor Highland asked, after clearing his throat.

As the pastor began to pray, Lisa’s mind swam. Images of her own past, Alyson’s present mashed with the very idea of her child someday following in the family vocation.,

Looking to the Heavens as the prayer concluded, tears worked their way down Lisa’s cheeks.

“Uncle Stephen,” she whispered, “If ever that girl needed a guardian angel, now would be the time.”

“She’ll be okay.”

Alex’s whispered voice startled her.

“I’m not so sure,” she admitted.

“It’s in her blood, Babe.”

“So’s the church,” Lisa reminded him. “Uncle Stephen was a pastor. So was my great Uncle and two of his sons.”

“Well, then, I think we can rest assured she’ll have a hotline straight to God’s ear, then.”

“Sort of like you, eh?” Lisa said, making a head motion to Mrs. Mendez, who was busily tending to Joey.

Remaining silent, Alex smiled.

As the graduating class marched by on their way out, Alyson met Lisa’s eyes with the slightest of head turns. A smile crawled across her face. The confident smile of a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. A smile that did not quite go with the subtle head cock, crossed eyes and the tongue stuck out just long enough for Lisa to burst out laughing.

“What?” Alex asked.

“Nothing,” Lisa replied, winking at Alyson.

“Why do I get the feeling that ‘nothing’ is a something?”

“Promise me something?” Lisa asked, suddenly serious.

“The moon, Babe. It’s yours.”

“Promise me you won’t be too hard on her. I know you’ll want to be fair. You won’t want to show favoritism. I get that and I wouldn’t want you to. Just promise me you’ll let her grow slowly.”

“Talk to Kellan.” Alex replied. “He’ll be the one training her.”

“What? Why Kellan? I mean I love him. You know that, but I thought—”

“I thought it would be inappropriate for me to train her. Kellan and I both learned from Danny. He’ll be tough, but he’ll be fair. And don’t worry. She’ll be fine. She’s got at least a year on the street before she gets to us. I’ll make sure whoever gets that duty does her right.”

“I love you, Mr. Mendez.”

“Love you, too.”

He pulled her close, locking her in a hug so tight she felt as if she, too, had vanished, as Alyson had appeared to do just minutes before. In that moment, not one single thing was wrong.

Not one single thing.

After Words

Dearest readers,

First, I want to thank you for sharing this adventure with me. I’m writing to you, not to announce the retirement of Alex Mendez (Some of you can stop worrying about the fate of your favorite fictional family now. Others can resume whatever voodoo rituals you were pursuing to try and rid the world of Alex, Lisa and Yours Truly.)

I’m writing this for the sole purpose of giving clarity to a few things that might otherwise be misinterpreted. The story itself involves the murder of strippers and prostitutes. During the course of creating this tale (and the series in general), one of my editors worried that the story could be seen as glorifying prostitution, lust or other fleshy, sexual misadventures – something the Bible would consider a huge no-no! I want to say, without hesitation, that is not my purpose. It is, however, my point to show the heart of Jesus. Jesus loved sinners. In Jesus’ time, one of the biggest “wrongs” in the world was to be seen associating with the tax collectors. Yet, one of Jesus’ chosen twelve walked that road before joining Jesus.

Another person readily connected to Jesus for much of his life was Mary Magdalene. While her story is the subject of theological and scholarly debates even today, one thing is clear. She is a woman from whom seven demons came out, upon the spoken word of our Lord and Savior. It has been argued that, perhaps, she was a prostitute. According to some religions, Mary Magdalene is the “adulterous woman” Jesus defends in the Gospel of John. Other religions dispute this, claiming the two to be two separate women. (For me, I have never given it much thought. I know only that Jesus is Lord.) Whether or not these two women are one in the same, it cannot be argued that our Lord and Savior did, in fact, get between an angry crowd and a woman allegedly caught in adultery. (I’ve always wondered where was the man with whom she was caught. It takes two to commit an adulterous act and the Old Testament does not say that only the woman was to be stoned. If they were being “good and faithful” to the Torah, why was the man not beside, her awaiting his punishment?) (John 7:53-8:11 holds the story of the adulterous woman.)

Quite simply, my point is this. Man judges harshly – often unfairly rushing to a judgment that only later proves to be incorrect. Jesus judges through the eyes of patiene grace and loving forgiveness. Before you write this book off as not Christian or you suggest that it teaches poor theology, I ask only that you indulge me when I make a couple of points I feel are most important to make.

First, I am not attempting to indoctrinate anyone with my brand of theology. I am not Jesus. I am a man who has read his Bible from cover to cover multiple times, spent the better part of a decade researching biblical topics and weighing the historical reasons for religious splits that have occurred through time. As I explained to one reader some time back, I am not trying to write a Baptist book. I am not trying to write a Church of God book. I am not attempting to write a Methodist book, a Catholic book, a Mormon book, a Charismatic book, etc. Quite simply, I am trying to write a fictional story that exemplifies the spirit of God’s grace. The grace that was sufficient enough to send into this world His one and only son to be a way to freedom from the Curse of the Law. Jesus came so that we could have life, “and have it till it overflowed.” (John 10:10)

Furthermore, I am hoping to provide readers with an alternative to the sin-glorifying literature that is so commonplace in today’s market. I have done this while trying not to water down the story in such a way as to make it seem unlike the world in which we live. I want the reader to understand the evil of today’s world. As the Bible says, to be in the world not of the world. To that point, I want my readers to feel the disgust of Evil’s touch on people. I want you to feel sickened as you see people given to their selfish desires and grasping at any fulfillment, wherever they can find it. I want you to experience the lows to which many people sink before finding a ray of hope in this thing we call life. But, as Jesus would, I want you to find it within you to show these fictional people compassion.

I have come to call my books the training manual for 21st century Christianity. I say that because the world has changed. It is a dark place. One where sin seems to be the “It” thing to do now. Where morality seems taboo, even hateful in the eyes of the Anti-Christian rhetoric that fills the world today. Everyone is so caught up in looking for a person to name the Antichrist that they have failed to see the battle is not with a man but with the spirit of evil that is nothing if not Anti-Christian. We needn’t wait any longer. The Antichrist may well be here, though not in the way we expected. Not in the physical embodiment of one man, but in the hearts and minds of those who perhaps listened to the whispers of one or two men and spread their venom across the globe in the course of less than two generations. If we are going to reach people, we have to be The Truth.  Not just live truth; we have to be Truth. We have to be the living embodiment of Christ. “For it is no longer I who lives, but Christ lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)

Christ judged the church and the Pharisees far more harshly than he ever judged a sinner. Now, I’m not telling you to rush out and burn down the houses of every wealthy televangelist. Neither am I telling you all to rush out and become prostitutes so that, where sin abounds, grace could more abound. Both would defeat the purpose. The purpose is to do what Jesus said and take the plank out of our own eye before we seek to tell our brother he needs to remove the splinter in his.

Again, I feel the need to reiterate I am not a theologian. I am not trained to minister and know only that the Grace of God saved me from a life of addiction to pornography, self-hatred, burning anger and even suicide. I like to tell people that I’ve been to the bowels of Hell and stared Satan in the face. And in the end, Satan blinked. Of course, he did not blink because of me. Rather, because of the power that was behind me – My savior, Jesus Christ.

I am the first to tell you, I am not any religion. I do not accept religion. I have accepted Jesus Christ. As such, I do not have a religion. I have a relationship.

For those of you who’d like to understand my biblical reasoning behind this, I direct you to the following verses:

I can do ALL THINGS through Christ who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:13

And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”

John 8:7

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.

Ephesians 2:8-9

But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”

James 4:6

But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.

1 Corinthians 15:10

But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 5:8

And are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,

Romans 3:24

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Hebrews 4:16

“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven;

Luke 6:37

Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.”

John 7:24

Do not speak evil against one another, brothers. The one who speaks against a brother or judges his brother, speaks evil against the law and judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor?

James 4:11-12

For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Galatians 5:14

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

John 3:16-17

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.

Galatians 6:1

To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Romans 12:20-21

For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love.

2 Peter 1:5-7

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Ephesians 4:32

As it is written: “None is righteous, no, not one;

Romans 3:10

We love because he first loved us.

1 John 4:19

Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord God, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?

Ezekial 18:23

And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

Matthew 4:19

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew 28:19-20

The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you.

2 Timothy 4:22

We are all beautiful in God’s sight. He made us all, sinner and saint alike. Black and white and every color in the rainbow. He made all that you see, feel, hear, smell, taste, touch and think. God made preachers and God made prostitutes. God made homosexuals, just as he made heterosexuals. This is not to say God made them to be a prostitute, homosexual, murderer or arsonist anymore than he made a three-year-old child to tell a lie to his mother about who spilled the orange juice on the new carpet. (Boy, did I get in trouble for that one!)

God made that baby in its mother’s womb. And it grew up never being taken to church. It grew up never hearing the Word of God. Likely, that baby grew into a woman or man that questioned God’s existence every time a drunken father engaged in unspeakable acts while under the inexcusable influence of any number of alcoholic beverages. Likely, that prostitute is the child-turned-adult that some of you reading this used to ignore in school. Perhaps, they’re the poor kid whose tattered, filthy clothes you used to ridicule before going to Wednesday night revival meetings with your parents. Some may well have been the school virgin who somehow got the reputation that she would sleep with any boy that came along. That rumor, of course, started by the very guy she rebuffed in the first place. That murderer was a school bully to whom no one ever managed to reach out. Or maybe he was the victim of bullying himself and sought relief from the pain the only way he knew how. By making others suffer. It’s a sad reality that the unconscious search for empathy is the driving force behind many murderers.

Again, I reiterate that I am not trying to indoctrinate anyone. Neither am I trying to denigrate the Church. Quite simply, I am trying to remind us all of the great commission Jesus left his disciples when he said “…This new commandment do I give to you. Love One Another as I have loved you…”

Simply put, I am trying to get more of us, regardless of our religious affiliations, to understand the true depths and power of the Grace brought into this world when The Word was made flesh. Jesus didn’t just come to call the qualified. We need look no further than the first twelve he called to understand that very basic point. He did not call preachers, priests, rabbis or saintly men of God. He came to qualify the called. And qualify them, he did! That, through the salvation and redemption of sinners, His power could be better comprehended.

To whom have you ministered today? To whom have you reached out? It is not the responsibility of the educated, ordained minister to go out into the world. They have their tasks and their plate is quite full ministering to each one of us. It is to you, dear child of God, the task has been given. To go out into the world and become the fishers of men first mentioned in the gospels. It is up to you – the construction workers, teachers, doctors, nurses, athletes, firemen, police officers, carpenters, fishermen and tax collectors. Now, get going! There are souls out there waiting to be saved if you look hard enough. Ask God to show you. If you’re truly walking in His spirit, I’m sure he’s more than happy to do so.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Edward Hancock II lives and works in Gilmer, Texas, where he shares a home with his four-legged children. When not speaking or traveling, he is hard at work on his next novel. You can keep up with Edward at his personal website, www.edwardhancockii.com. You may also catch him on Facebook.

Table of Contents

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’...

DEDICATION

Dear Readers—

Chapter 1Tuesday, October 11

Chapter 2Wednesday, October 12

Chapter 3Wednesday, October 12

Chapter 4Wednesday, October 12

Chapter 5Wednesday October 12

Chapter 6Wednesday, October 12

Chapter 7Wednesday, October 12

Chapter 8Wednesday, October 12

Chapter 9Thursday, October 13

Chapter 10Thursday, October 13

Chapter 11Thursday, October 13

Chapter 12Thursday, October 13

Chapter 13Thursday, October 13

Chapter 14Thursday, October 13

Chapter 15Thursday, October 13

Chapter 16Friday, October 14

Chapter 17Friday, October 14

Chapter 18Friday, October 14

Chapter 19Friday, October 14

Chapter 20Friday, October 14

Chapter 21Friday, October 14

Chapter 22Friday, October 14

Chapter 23Friday, October 14

Chapter 24Friday, October 14

Chapter 25Friday, October 14

Chapter 26Friday, October 14

Chapter 27Saturday, October 15

Chapter 28Saturday, October 15

Chapter 29Saturday, October 15

Chapter 30Saturday, October 15

Chapter 31Saturday, October 15

Chapter 32Monday, October 17

Chapter 33Monday, October 17

Chapter 34Monday, October 17

Chapter 35Monday, October 17

Chapter 36Monday, October 17

Chapter 37Monday, October 17

Chapter 38Monday, October 17

Chapter 39Monday, October 17

Chapter 40Monday, October 17

Chapter 41Monday, October 17

Chapter 42Monday, October 17

Chapter 43Monday, October 17

Chapter 44Monday, October 17

Chapter 45Monday, October 17

Chapter 46Monday, October 17

Chapter 47Monday, October 17

Chapter 48Thursday, October 20

After Words

ABOUT THE AUTHOR