CHAPTER ELEVEN

I found the nest of my enemy

And left a note for her to see

She can run and she can hide

But by my rules she will abide

May 22nd, 2002 9:18 a.m.

Luz woke up disoriented; it took her a moment to remember where she was. Room twenty-six at the Ramada Inn. The bed was uncomfortable, and the room smelled musty, but at least she was safe.

After finding the note, Mike insisted she stay somewhere else for the night. He argued with her when she told him she didn’t want to stay with family. Upsetting them was the last thing she wanted to do after her recent incident. So they agreed she would stay in a hotel—more like a motel—but it was the cheapest motel near the police department and if they were going to pick up the bill, she wasn’t complaining. Besides it would only be for a couple of days.

She threw the bedcovers off, climbed out of bed and pulled back the thick curtains that covered the window. The sun shone but clouds gathered in the north. The weather mirrored her thoughts of the night before. The night had gone well, despite Annabel Yates’s rude appearance. But after finding that note, unease had stayed with her.

She felt something press against her leg and looked down. Cheech stood upright with his front paws on her leg. She had picked him up after her primping session yesterday and dropped him at home before leaving for the mayor’s auction. Just thinking about how close a stranger had been to him yesterday while she was out left her worried. She felt guilty about the lack of attention he’d gotten lately, but like any dog, he was quick to forgive his master’s shortcomings. She bent down and picked him up, inviting all the licks of affection she received.

“I’m sorry, boy. I’d have more time to spend with you if some madman hadn’t decided to carve up homeless people around town.” He stopped licking her and stared at her with a tilted head as if thinking over what she’d told him. She kissed his face and put him down. He ran to the door and whined softly.

“Let me wash up real quick and we’ll take a walk, okay?” she said, heading toward the bathroom.

After a quick shower, she dressed and took him out. They walked down Fifth Avenue and after a few blocks they arrived at Denny Park and she let Cheech sniff around. After he had done his business and continued to explore his new surroundings. Luz sat on a bench and watched him; soaking up as much sun she could before it decided to rain. It would rain, not because it was Seattle and it was the norm, but because the air around her felt thick with it.

As if reading her mind, a voice behind her spoke. “Looks like rain.”

She jumped, swore then quickly turned around and found Nicholas Mason staring down at her, looking amused.

“Your choice of words never ceases to amaze me,” he joked, and she watched his grin broaden.

“Your sudden appearances and knack for sneaking up on me never ceases to scare the shit out of me. Why do you keep doing that?” she asked.

“It wasn’t my intention to startle you. I was just trying to make small talk,” he said glancing up at the dark clouds in the distance. The silence stretched for a few seconds, then he stared at the empty seat beside her on the bench.

Her eyes followed his and she sat up, suddenly remembering her manners. “Would you like to sit down?” she asked. He was dressed in black slacks and a turtleneck sweater that gave him a GQ sort of look. Or it would have, had he been able to fill out the clothes properly. Luz guessed it would take him a while to put some weight back on after being homeless for so long.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Realizing she’d been staring, she quickly looked away and found Cheech digging a hole under a flowering bush a few feet away. “Perro! Knock that off,” she yelled, and Cheech sprang up and ran to her, his tail wagging wildly.

“Is that his name?” Nick chuckled, his eyes full of amusement.

“No, his name is Cheech. ‘Perro’ means ‘dog’ in Spanish. When I call him ‘perro’, he knows he’s in trouble. You know, like when you were a kid and your parents called you by your first and middle name?”

He laughed again and reached down to pet the chihuahua, but Cheech wouldn’t be caught off guard. He growled and snapped at Nick’s fingers. Nick pulled his hand back, his eyes wide.

Luz picked up the dog and rubbed his head. “It’s okay, Cheech, Nick’s a good guy. He won’t hurt you.” She looked up at Nick and smiled. “He gets a little protective,” she explained and scratched behind Cheech’s ears.

“Do you live near here?” he asked.

She hooked a leash to the dog’s collar. “No. I live north of here, but I’m temporarily staying in town,” she said, choosing her words carefully. She didn’t want to tell him what had happened the night before. She didn’t want him to think of her as vulnerable. Her father was right, she did come off a bit too independent, but she didn’t care. If she scared Nicholas Mason off it wouldn’t matter.

“You know,” he began. He opened his eyes and sighed. “I don’t have much to do now that I’ve taken my life back. I just sit around all day wondering what to do next. When I was on the streets I would move around the city constantly, finding new places to sleep, new missions to visit, those types of things. Now there’s so much I’ve missed, from pop culture to technology… I feel so out of touch. I’ve come to the realization that I can do more for the homeless by reconnecting with society and becoming a resource for those who are looking to better their circumstances. I will soon be starting a few projects that will help me do just that but for now, would you like to grab some lunch?”

Luz stared at him for a beat before answering, trying to sort through all the words he’d just said. She understood that he hadn’t been back in society for very long, so she decided to excuse his rambling. To ignore it. “Well, if you have absolutely nothing to do, I guess I can swing lunch. But I have to stop in the office to check on some things. Did you want to meet me back here in two hours?”

She thought she saw disappointment in his features but then he smiled. “Sure, I’ll be here.”

“Good. See you soon.” She got up and walked Cheech down the path to the sidewalk. She felt Nick’s eyes on her back, or was it her ass, she wondered, and smiled. She resisted the urge to turn around. She was in the middle of a murder case; involvement with one of the suspects wasn’t a good idea. Though he wasn’t a suspect anymore, she reminded herself.

~

She walked into her office fifteen minutes later and found a note from Mike asking her to call him. She unhooked Cheech and let him run free. Her office was small, limiting the space he had to scamper around, but he was content with all the nooks and crannies her furniture provided for him to investigate. She had just picked up the receiver when Mike popped his head in.

“I was just about to call you,” she said, lowering the phone and placing it back in the cradle.

“Sure you were. And I was about to swear off women for good,” he teased and bent down to pet Cheech who was practically crawling up his pant leg, wagging his tail.

“No, really. I was. What did you want to chat about?” Luz asked.

“Just making sure you got a good night’s sleep, that’s all. Notice anything different today?”

Luz surveyed her boss but could find nothing different about him. “You got me Mike, what’s up?”

“There was no body found this morning. We went twenty-four hours without a new one. What do you think that means?”

“It means the killer was too busy trying to find me to bother with choosing another victim, that’s what it means,” she replied. That note had left her more rattled than she’d thought.

He frowned at her. “You’re no fun, Santos.”

“I didn’t think fun was in my job description,” she retorted.

“No, that’s my job description.” He emphatically pointed at himself.

Luz leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. “Why? What’s happened now?”

“I have DHS on my A-S-S. They’re asking what we’re doing to help protect the homeless from this homicidal maniac.”

The Department of Health and Human Services not only provided help to the homeless but had high expectations of the community and its leaders to assist them unfailingly. Their PATH programs (Project for Assistance in Transition for Homelessness) had helped many families living on the street and had a positive effect on the communities. The programs tended to exclude those homeless people with substance abuse problems; they focused more on those who were mentally ill or unstable. DHS was more likely to secure funding to help the sick, even though drug addiction was a disease. Unfortunately, it all boiled down to politics. Luz had gotten a call from them herself but hadn’t called them back.

“Did you tell them that when the federal government kicks in some money that we would be happy to help?”

“Yeah, yeah. They were going on about the money in our Victims Assistance fund. I told them that money is used for emergency housing, medical care, food, financial assistance, and language interpretation for actual victims of violent crimes. We can’t afford to help everyone on the street,” he said, exasperated.

“Besides, if anyone was a victim of murder, they wouldn’t need assistance,” she added.

“Another good point.” He shook his head.

“We couldn’t touch that money if we wanted to. The police department guidelines are very specific about the use of those funds,” Luz noted, a bit frustrated.

“I tried to explain all of that to them, but DHS is like a tick, they crawl under your skin, bite down and hold on.”

“Wish I could help, but I have my hands full with the press. They are not satisfied with the statement the mayor issued at the press conference. They want more and won’t stop until they get it. I’m going to have to charm my way out of it or they’ll say that the department was uncooperative, leading up to the fact that we’re hiding something from the public that they have a right to know.”

“No problem. I don’t need help. I just stopped by to see how you were. I’m going to grab lunch, you want anything?”

Luz thought of Nick and smiled. “No thanks.”

“What the hell was that?” Mike asked, eyeing her face.

Automatically, she reached towards her face. “What?”

“That goofy smile?”

“Mike, lack of food has you hallucinating. Go eat.” She shooed him with her hands.

“Sure, whatever. I know what I saw.”

“They say the sight is the first to go,” she said and turned toward the other messages on her desk.

“You’re starting with the old jokes? You must be hiding something big.” He grinned.

She stopped shuffling the papers on her desk and looked up at him. “If you must know, I’m having lunch with a guy.”

“Lopez finally got through your defenses?”

“Not Eddie,” she said curtly, slightly taken back, wondering if everyone thought she was so hard to get close to.

“Who?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t know him.”

“That means he’s not a cop, but I might. Try me.” He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

Irritated at his lack of courtesy she blurted out Nick’s name. She’d anticipated the silence that followed. “Before you start in, let me assure you that I’m not looking for a boyfriend. He just asked me to lunch.”

But Mike didn’t say a word. His lack of response made her a little nervous. “What?”

“Be careful, Santos,” he said. “The guy’s been living on the streets for a good chunk of time, seen some awful things. I’m not sure what that does to a person. Just keep your guard up.” He tapped the door jamb and left.

His words rang true. What did she really know about Nick? Who he was, how he went from a prominent social figure to a homeless man on the street. How had his wife died? There could be something serious wrong with him. She looked at the clock and decided she would learn nothing new about him if she missed lunch. She turned on her computer and logged in. After she returned about two dozen emails and composed a few of her own, she got to work.

Turning towards her computer, she logged into the criminal database with its endless amount of information.

The first thing she decided to research was the mayor and his collections. Anthony Yates was born and raised in Seattle, Washington. He attended Garfield High School and graduated valedictorian of his class in 1996, which made him about fifty-two years old. After graduation he moved to California to attend the UCLA School of Law. When he held his law degree he surprised his family by becoming a police officer in California instead of an attorney, claiming he wanted to make a real difference. Luz knew firsthand how his family must have reacted to his decision.

He was on the force only six years but had risen to captain in that brief time. Finally deciding that politics held his interest, he left the force and moved back to Seattle. He worked closely with the city council until being elected as the chairperson of police, fire, courts and technology. That would explain his custom-designed security system, thought Luz.

Yates worked on that committee for ten years and was then named council president. Working closely with the mayor’s staff, he eventually left his post at the council and settled for a job as the senior policy advisor for the previous mayor of Seattle. He handled public safety and human services issues and excelled in that position due to his law background. Three years before, he was elected mayor, encouraged to run by his own boss because he showed potential in politics, given all his years of public service.

She read rumors of Yates running for governor after completing his first term as mayor. Some political big wigs went as far to say that one day Yates might make a great leader as president of the United States. After meeting Yates, Luz prayed he would never get the chance. The man was not president material. He lacked the compassion and unbiased social stature. He would need to run a country diverse in financial status and cultural differences. All in all, he was a greedy man, and in the end, he would only put more pressure on the average blue-collar citizen.

She checked the clock and was surprised to see she’d been reading about Yates for a good hour and a half. She rubbed her eyes and pushed her chair from the computer. Her back cracked as she stood, and her knees were stiff from sitting so long. Cheech must have sensed it was time to go because he went to the door automatically. She scooped him up and headed out, closing the door to her office behind her.

She rode the elevator to the ground level and walked outside. She noticed the ground was damp and the cars parked along the street were sprinkled with water. It must have rained while she was working.

She walked along the street, careful not to let passersby trod on her dog. It was more difficult because instead of avoiding their feet, Cheech walked right under them. Twice she had to pick him up, fearful he would get trampled. Cheech, of course, didn’t understand her caution and soon became too squirmy to hold, so she put him down and shook her finger at him.

“Fine, but if you so much as get your tail stepped on, I don’t want to hear a peep!” she scolded.

“Do you always yell at your dog in public?”

She knew who it was before she turned around. “There you go again, sneaking up on me.”

Nick held his hands up. “Hey, you told me to meet you at the park. I was on my way there, but some lady was yelling at her poor dog and distracted me.”

Luz wondered how long he’d been following her but decided that it didn’t matter, since they were headed to the same place anyway. “What’s that?” she asked pointing the large paper sack he was holding.

“You’ll find out when we get to the park,” he said. He continued walking on without her. She followed him up the street and into the park to a bench and sat down with him.

After watching Cheech run around for a bit, her curiosity got the best of her.

“Okay, now I’m dying to know what’s in the bag,” she said, trying to sneak a peek but he grabbed the bag and placed it out of her reach.

“Stay right there, I’ll be back.” He got up from the bench and walked to the other end of the park behind a small grove of trees. She couldn’t see what he was doing but that made the wait more fun. She didn’t know why but she felt like a school girl, which didn’t make sense considering she knew nothing more about this man than that he was a homeless lawyer with a stroke of bad luck. That thought discouraged her feelings of joyous wonder and she doubted Nick’s intentions.

She called Cheech back to her and fastened his leash. She went to find Nick to feed him some lame excuse about having no time for lunch. But the words died in her throat. Behind the trees was a blanket laid out with an assortment of food from sandwiches and soup to butter rolls and fruit.

“Hey, I told you to wait over there,” Nick admonished, looking up from a small plate upon which he arranged an array of doggy treats.

Cheech ran over and feasted on his treats, obviously pleased with the buffet provided. Luz, however, was reluctant.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked, seeing her less-than-enthusiastic reaction.

“Is this all for me?” she asked. She felt a bit of pressure seeing the lengths he’d gone to for a simple lunch.

“No. I was planning to eat as well.” He sat on one side of the blanket and picked up a sourdough roll. “Unless, of course, you’re really that hungry?”

His smiled lured her to the blanket and she sat down, feeling less than thrilled. “I… I really don’t know what to say,” she stammered.

“Don’t say anything, just eat. I know it’s a little much.”

Luz surveyed the food once more and decided to start with a chicken salad sandwich. It was, to her surprise, very good. They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the sounds of the park, before Nick spoke up.

“I’m sorry if this seems like a lot. I must be out of practice,” he said looking abashed. “On the street, this would feed me for a week if I stretched it, not that I ever got my hands on a spread like this. I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach at the store. I hope this doesn’t mean I’ve scared you off.”

It was like he’d read her mind. She met his eyes. “It takes a lot to scare me off. This just surprised me is all. I’m not used to picnics in the park. I appreciate the gesture though. This is rather pleasant.” She leaned back on the tree and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment.

~

They talked for a while, learning about each other’s interests and views. Luz steered the conversation from her dating life as Nick avoided talking much about his late wife, yet the conversation ebbed and flowed naturally as if they were old friends.

“I love this park. They keep everything maintained. And in the spring the flowers bloom so beautifully,” Luz said. “My grandmother had the most amazing garden in Mexico. I spent a lot of time there with her brilliant, multi-colored flowers and all their scents. Roses, lilies, carnations… there really was no flower she couldn’t grow, though the lilies were always my favorite. I’d go with her on the weekends into town to sell them at the market. Whenever I see beautiful flowers, it makes me think of her and that makes me smile.”

Nick nodded. “I know what you mean. My grandfather was the green thumb in my family. He always had to have the biggest and brightest garden in the neighborhood. He’d spend hours cultivating that garden, but as a kid I didn’t appreciate the patience and skill it took to keep a garden like his in top condition season in and season out. It was a lot of work and it gave him a sense of pride when people would stop and admire his flowers. After he passed, Grandma wasn’t in good physical or mental condition, and she wasn’t able to keep up his garden. Sadly, it became overgrown with weeds. It broke her heart but there was nothing she could do, so I hired a gardener for her. The change was almost immediate; the family started seeing the light in her eyes again. It really was worth every penny.”

“That was a really sweet thing to do. I’m sure she appreciated it,” Luz said.

As she spoke, Nick watched the shadows of the leaves dance on her face; she was like no one he had ever met. In addition to being sexy, exotic and strong-willed, yet amiable, she was also easy going but cautious and still managed to look independent and seem vulnerable at the same time. The concoction of those elements was interesting to say the least. Her thirst for justice and life in general reminded him of his wife, but Luz’s approach to life’s challenges and her cultural pride gave her an identity all her own. He found himself wanting to know more about her. She captivated him, and that terrified him. His heart pumped harder, and his head felt light and warm. His breaths became shallow.

He stood quickly and brushed the remaining crumbs off his trousers. “I’ve got to go. I… just remembered an important appointment I have this afternoon.”

Luz stared at him for a bit, clearly confused. He knew she’d seen right through the lie when a look of disappointment coated her features. She’s a damn detective, idiot. Of course she sees through you. But instead of challenging his words she simply started packing the food away.

“No problem. I’ll help you with this,” she said wrapping the sandwiches in plastic.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything here is disposable except the blanket. Just throw it away and keep the blanket as a gift. I really have to go.” He looked towards the grass as he rambled, growing even more annoyed that he couldn’t meet her eyes. “Maybe… maybe we can do this again sometime?” He forced himself to look at her again when he heard the softness in her tone.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with Nick,” Luz replied, her eyes searching his face. “Take your time adjusting. I know this must be overwhelming but you’re doing just fine. Baby steps, right?” She finished folding the blanket and tucked it under her arm.

Nick looked down at his feet. “I really am sorry.”

She whistled for the dog and hooked on his leash “Don’t be sorry. Just pace yourself. You’ve had an exciting few days. Get some rest and take care, okay?” she gave him a small wave and left.

He watched her walk away and was overcome with a heavy sense of guilt. All she wanted was someone to talk to, someone with whom she could share a quiet afternoon and she would have had it if he hadn’t panicked.

He hung his head in his hands and leaned against the nearest tree. He felt the tears threatening to break loose. “I’m so sorry, Leah,” he whispered softly and walked in the opposite direction Luz had taken.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I have stopped hunting those on the street

My bitter vengeance tastes all too sweet

Now’s my turn to have some fun

With the setting of the sun

May 22nd, 2002 1:39 p.m.

Eddie Lopez watched the scene from his truck. He watched Luz walk from the office to the park, meeting Mason along the way.

Eddie was off duty and a lot less conspicuous in his Ford Ranger, parked in a space across the street.

Captain Andrews had called him an hour before and asked him to follow Luz at lunch. Eddie was not only surprised but worried. Everyone knew that when the captain of the force called you for a favor you don’t take it lightly. The guy they had pulled in for the murders downtown a week ago had asked Luz to lunch, and Andrews was uncomfortable with it. Even though they cleared the guy, Andrews maintained a rotten feeling about Nicholas Mason.

So Eddie had agreed, but he didn’t think it would be such a difficult task. Watching from his truck, he painfully endured every smile, every laugh and every look Luz bestowed upon Mason. Mason had planned a picnic for them—a romantic setting indeed—the gesture likely not only lit a flame between the pair, it also fueled the jealous fire within Eddie.

Four times, Eddie found himself clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, and he had trouble observing them laugh and lean toward each other. He had the key in the ignition and was ready to drive off when their little excursion came to an abrupt end.

Mason jumped up and prepared to leave, wiping something from his pants. Luz looked disappointed. Her brow furrowed as she spoke with Nick, then she got her dog and walked quickly and purposefully back towards the precinct.

Mason watched her helplessly. He looked lost; out of place. Then he propped himself against the nearest tree and cried. Eddie observed for a minute, a smile playing across his face—Mason wasn’t a threat to him. Or to Luz.

Eddie started the truck as Mason packed up the remains of the lunch and dumped them in the trash. Eddie turned his head to reverse out of his space and saw a glint of silver through the corner of his eye; felt the cold metal of a nine-millimeter against his temple and he froze.

“Get out of the truck.”

He was surprised to hear Luz’s voice and he tried to turn his head and look at her.

“Don’t try to look, asshole, just step out of the truck.”

He complied and slowly opened the door. Once he was outside, he put his hands on the canopy and assumed the position.

“Turn around, Lopez,” she ordered. He turned to face her. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He tried to look innocent but thought better of it. She wasn’t stupid.

“I was keeping an eye on you,” he mumbled, his heartbeat returning to normal. Even as a cop he wasn’t used to having have a gun pulled on him.

“You were spying on me. Goddammit, Eddie. I don’t need a babysitter. There are laws against stalking people in this state.”

“I wasn’t stalking you Luz—” he began, wishing she would put away her gun.

“Bullshit! You think I got my job sleeping my way to the top? I’m a detective, Eddie. I know when I’m being followed. I’m going to give you two minutes to explain yourself, then I don’t ever want to see you again. Go.”

Stunned, Eddie didn’t know where to begin. Luz holstered her weapon and pointed to her watch.

“Time’s ticking, Lopez, spit it out.”

“It was my day off. Andrews called. Told me he had a bad feeling about Mason and asked if I would follow you two at lunch. I agreed and here I am.”

Luz appeared dumbfounded. “Andrews called you?”

He nodded.

“What the hell is wrong with men?” she threw her arms in the air.

“Luz I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Save it, Lopez, I’m through with you. It wasn’t your idea, but you didn’t have any qualms about stalking me around town, did you? Had to check out the competition, didn’t you? Well fuck you, Lopez.” She turned and walked away.

He immediately gave chase. “Luz! Please listen to me. I was only looking out for you. I care about you,” he pleaded, hoping she would reconsider writing him off.

She stopped and turned. “You know what’s sad? I was starting to care about you, too, but you blew it Eddie. I can’t trust you anymore. This is great. I have a killer stalking me, two guys shut me out and now I get to chew out my boss. Anything else you want to throw my way?”

Eddie was shocked. “A killer is stalking you?”

She brought her gaze back to him and smiled mockingly. “Oh? thought you were the only one stalking me? I don’t need your protection, Eddie, and I don’t want it. Find someone else to follow,” she said, her voice taking on a tired note.

Eddie watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Then he slumped against his truck and slapped himself on the forehead. How could he have been so stupid? Not only had he blown any chance of ever dating her; she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

He climbed back into his truck and considered calling Andrews to warn him that Luz was on the war path but decided against it. Mike would have to hold his own. Eddie looked up and found no trace of Mason. He hoped the man hadn’t witnessed the episode Luz had created.

Dejected and feeling like a top-notch ass, he drove home.

~

It was better than any movie I’ve seen—complete with romance, conflict and a promising ending. The only thing missing was a tub of popcorn and a comfortable seat. The bench I perched upon suited me just fine. I had a clear view of the detective’s surprise lunch and the woman’s blow out with her cop friend. The episode was rather amusing. I enjoyed every minute of the drama.

Luz Santos was a very attractive woman and likely had numerous suitors waiting in the wings. Too bad she didn’t know that the closer she got to these men, the more devastated she would be when she lost them.

And she would lose them. I was torn between going after Nicholas Mason or Eduardo Lopez. There was also Ben Torres, who came to her rescue after my attempt to finish her off. All those men seemed equally interested in the detective, but which one would Luz miss the most? Decisions, decisions.

It doesn’t matter. I will kill them all.

May 22nd, 2002 7:14 p.m.

Luz had been trying to work for the past five hours but keeping her mind from the events of the day was impossible. After her fight with Eddie she’d tracked Mike down and given him a piece of her mind, and almost her resignation.

Nothing bothered her more than being lied to. That people she had chosen to trust had tried to deceive her hurt more than anything else.

She wanted to be alone. Watching the gloomy masses of soot-grey clouds roll across the sky from her office window, she grew overwhelmed. The stress and tension that had built over the past week found its release and she wept uncontrollably.

She cried for the victims of the murders; she cried for her family; she cried over her near-death experience. She cried for Ben and the loss of what they once shared; for the betrayal of her coworkers; for the walls Nick had put up when she was feeling comfortable with him. Most of all—she cried for herself.

Why couldn’t she have a meaningful relationship? Why couldn’t she share herself with a man without feeling threatened?

She thought about the death of her mother, wishing she had someone close she could confide in. But she’d never been good at forming relationships with other women. Growing up without a female influence had scarred her in some way. Sometimes she was too proud to change, even if it meant she could then reach out and develop healthy relationships.

She reached for a tissue and remembered that Antoinette Peterson had emptied the box last week. She wiped her face dry with her sleeve. The skin around her eyes was tender. She fished for her mirror and fixed herself up the best she could. Suck it up, Santos, and do your job.

She’d spent the afternoon seeking the list of collectors who bought the twenty limited edition knives. After talking to the bladesmith in Georgia, she had found the list, which she could only obtain through showing the bladesmith her credentials. Once she had the list she went to work hunting down the knives. She came up with a half-dozen addresses for each person on the list. There were two museums listed—one in Florida and one in Japan—both of which she called, and both assured her that the knives were locked up tight.

Anthony Yates was the fifth name on the list. She learned that he’d acquired the knife some years ago, having bought it directly from the maker and it was placed straight into his collection. She thought about that for a moment and decided to take a different approach to the mayor’s collection.

She pulled her chair back up to the computer and logged onto the database. She typed in Anthony Yates and knife and pressed “enter”. She waited five minutes for the results. She scanned past the articles about past auctions, tributes to his police and political career and was ready to give up when something caught her eye.

Toward the bottom of the page was an article titled “Anthony Yates found innocent of the Mason murder.” She brought up the entire article; it was three pages long and gave a detailed account of the case. Luz was shocked when she learned that the victim, Leah Mason, was Nicholas Mason’s wife. Shit, shit, shit. Feeling guilty, she continued to read.

Leah Mason died at the age of twenty-seven. A neighbor found her in the dead of night, on her houseboat, with her throat slashed. A witness claimed he saw Anthony Yates at the scene earlier in the night, but the witness changed his story during the trial. Yates’s lawyer had proven beyond a reasonable doubt that Yates was innocent. Even though he owned a knife that could have been the one used to kill Mrs. Mason, he got off clean. According to his lawyer, that knife was locked up and sealed tight, and he had the documentation from the security office showing no disturbances to the display case on or around the time of the murder. Yates also had the ticket and flight times proving he was out of town during the time of the murder and that he hadn’t returned home until the week after the body was found.

Nicholas Mason had made it his sole mission to ensure Anthony Yates went down for the murder of Leah. Mason was a prominent attorney; a partner at his firm with more wins under his belt than average for someone his age. Nick seemed to have been the golden boy at his firm and on the fast track to success. The case had then been taken on by another law firm due to conflict of interest and the whole thing appeared to swirl down the toilet. The other witness had been proven unreliable, evidence disappeared and justice was ripped from Nick’s grasp.

The media was not sensitive to his grief. They portrayed him as a crazed widower out for revenge.

After Luz finished the article, she searched Nick’s name, but only found articles praising his ability as a prosecutor, the murder trial and a mention in his wife’s obituary printed in the Seattle Times. His record at the DA’s office was impressive, and Nick seemed to have had a promising future ahead of him.

She searched for any mention of Nick after Yates was found innocent—but came up empty. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. What better way to disappear from society than to live under it. And that was the life Nick had chosen for himself.

She was understanding, piece by piece, what drove Nick Mason to give up on the system and leave everything he had known behind. In a way it was almost romantic, giving up his life when his wife’s murderer was still free. She blinked and looked up from the computer screen.

She checked the time, deciding she was delirious from working so hard. She found Cheech asleep, sprawled out on the chair opposite her desk. She pulled on her windbreaker and packed her research into her briefcase. She decided against popping a couple of painkillers; she needed a clear head to drive and would take them once she got “home”. The gash in her side was healing but some redness and puffiness remained. She hoped infection wasn’t setting in and wondered for the umpteenth time if checking out of the hospital so soon was a mistake on her part. It didn’t matter—she would keep an eye on it and if she ended up with gangrene she’d check herself back in. A few days’ rest sounded appealing to her since she’d put in so many twelve-hour days.

She finished off her warm apple juice and picked up Cheech, who woke up for a moment then dropped back off to doggy dreamland. The office was deserted and most of the lights were off. She hurried through the eerie silence and pushed the “down” button when she reached the elevators. Nerves she couldn’t shake had her turning to scope out the building. No one was there.

She rode down to the parking lot level and walked toward her car. Without warning, Cheech jumped from her arms and crouched low to the ground, growling loudly. Luz stopped walking and drew her weapon.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her echo the only answer. She crept forward a few steps and Cheech barked wildly. There were six other cars in the lot but hers was the farthest back and it sat in the shadows. Cautiously, she walked towards her car, keeping an eye out for any movement.

Luz was five feet from her car when the scent of death reached her. She walked with her gun pointed in front of her—the safety off. She could see no disturbance to her vehicle, but the smell of blood grew stronger the closer she got to her car, almost choking her with its coppery odor. She walked around to the driver’s side and found the source of the sour scent. Written in blood on the door of her Eclipse were the words FEELING HOMELESS YET? Lying near her rear tire was the body of a massive rat. Its head hung limply from the rest of its body and a small puddle of blood had pooled from its neck. Luz gagged and held her breath, simultaneously pulling out her phone and dialing her boss’s number. It took a long time for him to pick up.

“Mike, it’s Santos. I had another visit from the killer, and this time he took out his anger on my car. Get down here pronto.”

“Son of a bitch! The precinct garage? I’m sending down some uniforms. Wait for me on the street. See you in ten.”

She confirmed and hung up. Cheech shook and growled at the dead rat. Luz carried her dog to the street and waited for Mike. She was growing concerned for her safety and the safety of those around her. Could she inadvertently get someone killed? She shuddered and held Cheech close to her heart for comfort, but it would be a long time before she felt safe again.

~

I watched with pleasure as Luz emerged from the parking lot holding her canine friend. The look on her face was priceless. I snapped a picture of her so as to freeze her fear in a tangible way. A strong sense of power surged through my body. How satisfying it was to be so close to her, to watch her horror up close while she had no idea how much danger she was truly in. Time to step it up a notch.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Shaken up and confused

My victim isn’t so astute

Her resolve is wearing thin

Let the ruthless games begin

May 22nd, 2002 11:42 p.m.

Nicholas Mason woke to loud, angry voices in the hall. He stretched the stiffness from his body. He’d been sleeping on the floor, as the bed proved uncomfortably soft for someone accustomed to sleeping on concrete. Old habits, he guessed. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to adjust to even the smallest luxuries—like warm water and clean socks. Time would tell.

He stood slowly and approached the door. A man and a woman argued loudly about hotel security. He heard the voices more clearly when he entered the bathroom and realized that he recognized them both; Luz and Captain Andrews.

After stepping out of the bathroom he listened at the door to hear what the ruckus was about.

“I’ll be fine, Mike. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself,” Luz said.

“Like you took care of your car? What if that crazy person had still been there?” Captain Andrews replied.

“Then I would have blown his head off with my .22, that’s what. Listen Mike, it’s been a long day. All I want to do is sleep,” Luz said sounding tired.

“Fine, go to sleep, but if this shit happens again you’ll be sleeping in a cell surrounded by guards so no one can get at you, understand?” Andrews said.

“Okay Mike. Thanks for everything. See you tomorrow,” Luz replied.

Nick heard footsteps retreat down the hall where a door opened and closed. Luz was staying at the same Inn, but Nick wasn’t clear on why. From the conversation it sounded like she’d been attacked or harassed in some way.

He felt the need to check up on her. The scene from earlier that day in the park played through his mind. Luz wouldn’t want to see him after his panic attack ruined their meal.

He walked to the desk in the corner of his room and wrote his thoughts on a pad of paper. He then lowered himself back down to his blanket pile on the floor and forced himself to go back to sleep.

May 23rd, 2002 8:02 a.m.

Luz woke up with the sort of headache that comes with a hangover. After what had happened, she could have downed a bottle of José Cuervo. She needed something to calm her nerves.

The night before, Mike arrived with a crew of detectives, and Luz was forced to stay at the scene. They combed over her car, searching for signs of tampering or bombs. After photographing everything, they packed the rat up and sent it to the lab and the blood was wiped clean and sent for testing.

She expected something like this to happen after her attack; it was the delay that bothered her the most. Was she close to finding his identity? Was that why the killer was focusing on her? Instead of scaring her off, the killer had signed his own death warrant.

With new resolve, she hopped out of bed, momentarily forgetting her headache. She wouldn’t allow it to slow her down. There was no time to lose.

After showering and dressing, she gave Cheech a bath in the bathroom sink. She was drying him off when there was a knock on her door. She wrapped Cheech in a towel and looked through the peephole.

“Go away, Eddie. I’m not ready to speak to you yet.”

From the other side of the door she heard a muffled string of curses. She watched Eddie retreat then walk back and knock again.

“Come on, Luz, open up. I’ve got something you’ll want to see.”

She hesitated with her hand on the lock, but curiosity won out and she opened the door. Eddie handed her a piece of paper with tape on it.

“This was on your door,” he said.

She stared at him and snatched the paper from his hands.

“I didn’t read it. I promise,” he said with his hands up. She cautiously unfolded the paper, worried it was another nasty threat from her would-be killer. Instead, it was a note from Nicholas Mason. He wanted to see her again. She scowled at Eddie.

“Are you sure you didn’t read it?” she asked, not buying his boy scout routine.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I didn’t come here to argue. I heard what happened last night and I just wanted to see how you were. I also came to apologize for spying on you. I should have known better.”

“And?” she asked.

“And… I’m glad we’ve gotten to know each other, and I would hate to lose the friendship we share. Please don’t write me off, Luz. I don’t think I could take it. You’re the closest thing I have to a real friend in this city.”

He looked so pathetic. She punched him in the arm playfully. “Eddie let’s get something straight to avoid further confusion,” she said and stepped back, letting him into the room. Cheech was instantly alert and barked at Eddie.

“So this is Cheech, huh?” he asked. He kneeled on the carpet with his hand held out in front of him. Cheech kept his distance and barked furiously, but when Eddie didn’t move, his barks subsided into growls and he inched closer. Finally, the growling ceased, and Cheech sniffed Eddie’s hand. Luz kept one hand on Eddie’s shoulder so that Cheech would know he was a friend. Then Cheech wagged his tail and licked Eddie.

“Good boy,” Eddie gently told him and pet Cheech on the head.

“For being a victim of a dog attack, you’re good with dogs,” Luz said. She sat on the end of the bed. “Eddie, I know you don’t want to hear this but it’s about time you knew.”

Eddie shook his head. “Don’t tell me; you’re a man. I knew it!”

Luz rolled her eyes. “Watch it, wiseass. One snap of my fingers and that little dog will bite your balls off.”

Eddie looked down at the Chihuahua laying on his back begging to be rubbed on his stomach. “Whatever you say,” he replied. “So, what’s up?”

“Eddie, I’m glad I got to know you better, but you feel like a brother to me—a big brother. I don’t have romantic feelings for you.”

She watched him hide his disappointment and she felt guilty. But if he was going to hang around, it was something he had to know. With how mad she was at him the day before, she was surprised to find that most of that anger had burnt out and she was almost appreciative he had tracked her down to apologize and check on her well-being. That was something friends did for one another.

He was quiet for a moment and then spoke. “I understand. I kinda had a feeling that was the case.” She heard the resignation in his voice “But it’s no problem. I can respect that. When I saw you with Mason I thought ‘hey, so she likes white meat’ but it turns out that I was never in the race anyway.”

“Race?”

“Come on Santos; don’t tell me you don’t know that half the force wants to go to bed with you.”

Luz was surprised. “I… I knew that a few of the guys were interested, but half the force? Come on Lopez, give me a break.”

“Stay in denial all you want but those are the facts. Anyway, I’m a little hungry, did you have plans for breakfast?”

She thought of the note taped to her door and took her time deciding what she would do. She’d already let Eddie down once. Nick would have to wait.

“Nope, let’s go.” She slid on her shoes and whistled for Cheech to follow. They left the room and walked down the hall toward the exit. The last door on the right opened and out stepped Nick.

“Hello,” Nick said looking from her to Eddie and back. Luz could only imagine what was going through his mind; after all, they were in a motel. Her face burned slightly, and she turned to Eddie.

“Wait for me in the car?” she suggested.

Eddie looked at Nick with contempt, then walked around Luz and out the door.

“I get the feeling that guy doesn’t like me,” Nick said.

Luz smiled. “No, he doesn’t, but that’s not your problem, it’s mine.” When he looked confused she laughed and held out the note. “I got your message.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Yes, I heard you and Captain Andrews come in last night and I thought I’d slip you that since I wasn’t sure you wanted to talk to me.”

Luz shook her head. “Oh, you mean yesterday? Don’t worry about that, I—” the horn of Eddie’s truck honked loudly and cut her off.

Irritated, she looked out at the parking lot and sighed. “I have to go. My friend is taking me to breakfast, so maybe we can talk later? I forgot you were staying here. I’ll come see you after I eat.”

“Sure, see you then.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment and Eddie honked the horn again. Without another word, Luz turned and left.

May 23rd, 2002 10:14 a.m.

After breakfast and a long lecture on why she shouldn’t date murder suspects, Luz decided to return to the office to catch up on her other cases. When she got in, she noticed a message on her door from Sonny. It read: Luz, call me I got a match. She opened her office and the smell of flowers greeted her. On her desk sat a beautiful arrangement filled with tiger lilies.

After a minute she found a small envelope with her name on it, she pulled out the card and read it:

Detective Santos, had a wonderful picnic with you. Maybe we could try that again? Start fresh. I’d like a second chance.

Waiting patiently, Nick

Luz set the card on the desk and smiled. She thought it had been wonderful too, and she was touched he remembered her story about her grandmother’s garden and her favorite flower. Their conversation had only lasted an hour or so, but she found him to be intelligent and mature; compassionate with a sense of humor. He was still rough around the edges but with a history like his, why wouldn’t he be? Maybe Nick really just needed someone to understand that he was struggling. So she decided to be a little more patient when it came to his reintegration process. She knew a few things about struggling and having someone to talk to could maybe help them both.

It surprised her that she looked forward to seeing him again. She had a lot going on in her life and they both had a lot of baggage. That little voice in her head warned her that dating got complicated, which was why she’d been avoiding it for so long. Maybe a fresh start was what they both needed.

“What did you do to deserve those?” Mike asked from the doorway, breaking her from her reverie.

She turned to him and scowled. “None of your business. What do you want?”

“That’s no way to treat your boss, Luz,” he said, stepping into her office.

“Just because you came to help me out yesterday doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for spying on me. I don’t forgive that easily—or forget.”

He winced and shook his head. “You know, I did what I did out of concern for you. You can take it or leave it.”

“I can take care of myself, Mike. Just because I have tits doesn’t mean I need protecting. I don’t need big macho men to make me feel safe.”

“It didn’t seem that way last night. You called me for help, remember?”

“Yeah. You’re my boss, captain of the force, and a crime was committed. So… I called you,” she said indifferently, but she remained grateful that he’d been available to help her.

“You know what, Santos, you pretend you don’t like the fact that people care about you, but I know different, so cut the act. I didn’t stop by to discuss this. Have you spoken to Sonny?”

The change of subject happened so quickly Luz didn’t get a chance to retort. “No. I was going to, but the flowers distracted me,” she said.

“They are nice, but you really need to see Sonny. He found a match on those prints. I think we’re finally getting somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, just let me straighten up here,” she said rounding her desk and shuffling papers.

“Fine. We’re meeting in the Storm Room. Don’t take too long gawking at your flowers,” he said and shut the door behind him.

Luz glared at the closed door and put down the papers she’d been holding. She got up and smelled her flowers again. She had received flowers before, roses mostly, but they were either from Ben, or as a token of congratulations. She’d never received flowers as gratitude for time spent with a person. Somehow, lilies were sweeter than roses.

Reluctantly, she put the vase back on her desk and left the room. She met Eddie at the elevator and they rode up together.

“What were you doing on my floor?” she asked him.

A blush crept up his neck and he scratched his head. “Just visiting,” he replied sheepishly.

“Visiting who? The captain? Who else do you know up here?”

He was silent.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me if it’s that top secret,” she said. The doors opened, and they walked down the hall toward the Storm Room. Everyone involved with the case would be there, brainstorming with and updating each other.

They found seats on the far side of the large conference table. The room buzzed with discussion and Luz wondered what the development was. Before she could ask, Mike walked in and the room fell silent. He cleared his throat and took his place at the head of the table.

“First of all, I want to thank everyone for putting in all this overtime. I appreciate all the help we can get with this case. Except,” he said looking pointedly at Luz, “those who get too involved.”

Most of the heads in the room turned in her direction but Luz watched Mike expectantly, concealing her annoyance. Mike went on.

“We’ve had a break in the case, but it needs a little follow-up. In fact, it could turn into quite a problem if we can’t locate the suspect.” He turned and motioned Sonny forward. “The floor’s yours, Malone,” he said and stepped back.

Sonny stood up straight and his voice boomed like that of a drill sergeant. “Let me recap what we have, people. Murder one was Mildred Jamison. The incision on her neck was made by a Reaper, that’s the name of the knife. It was produced in 1926 by Uprising Smiths in Atlanta Georgia. They specialize in reproductions of knives used in eighteenth-century France during the French Revolution. They only made replicas of those swords and knives that are kept in museums, but they sold millions of knives before deciding to stop manufacturing and focused more on the marketing aspect of the goods. They made only twenty versions of this particular knife, so we’re in the process of hunting down the location of all the existing knives.

“We’ve done a search of anyone released from prison recently who has an interest in cutting people up. Surprisingly, the list was short. Most of the men are back in prison and the others have found God and moved on to live productive lives.” This evoked laughs around the room. Any cop knew that finding God was just an excuse to keep the police off their asses and out of their business. Those prisoners who found God were the ones watched the closest; after all, people did many bad things in the name of God. Sonny cleared his throat and continued:

“So that was a dead end. On the evidence end of this we have nothing. The lab’s still processing the trash we brought in but it’s a tedious process. We’ve been looking for any Hondas missing a hubcap and a blown out rear windshield—nothing there. Detective Santos has checked all the major windshield companies and alerted them to the Honda. She’s had nothing pop thus far. As for the prints,” he paused and smiled proudly. “I have found a match; the only problem is the person they belong to has disappeared. Last known address was New York City.”

One of the officers raised his hand. “Where in New York?” he asked.

“Son, if I knew that would I be here asking you for help?” Sonny asked, eyebrows raised.

Mike rose from his chair and placed both hands on the table. “Now listen up, someone in the department has been leaking information to the press about our recent findings. If I find out who it is, that individual will sit in jail for a while for interfering with the investigation and when they see the light of day they will be jobless. After I get through with them, IA will rip them apart. The information we’re going to share needs to be airtight. No leaks if we expect to find the killer. Is that understood?”

The room was silent as everyone nodded. Satisfied, Mike sat down and gave Sonny the floor again.

“Okay. I’ve traced the prints throughout the national database and come up with nothing. Then I had to take the grueling approach and search each state separately. I still came up empty. After that, I narrowed it down to the major cities: Seattle, Portland, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago, New York, Boston, Dallas, you get the point; but nothing came up. Exhausted and at my wits’ end, I was about to give up but a buddy of mine in New York had a case like this thirty years ago, where homeless people were murdered. Though the people were found in New York City, three of the six victims originated from a small town upstate. So, on a hunch, he sent the prints there and—voilà! We found a match. The prints belong to a Francis Aberleen. Not only is this our suspect, but now suspected to be the person they’ve been looking for.”

Luz spoke up. “So our killer murdered someone thirty years ago. How old would that make him now?”

“She. How old would she be now?”

That remark was met with shocked silence. Luz eyed him with surprise. “A woman? I don’t know about that. The person who attacked me that night was very, very strong.”

Mike stood again. “You said Antoinette Peterson looked strong enough to overpower these homeless people. I’m sure there are other women just as strong.”

Luz thought about that. “These killings seem so cold, so personal, it’s hard to believe a woman could have… I guess you could be right,” she conceded.

The room was silent again.

“Back to your question, Miss Aberleen would have only been fourteen years old.”

Everyone seemed taken aback by this information. Sonny chuckled.

“That’s not the best part; the three victims from her home town were none other than her mother, her brother and her sister. So we’re basically dealing with a cold-hearted bitch with a chip on her shoulder. The problem is this woman hasn’t popped up anywhere. There’s no record of her even having a life, no addresses, no bank accounts and no arrests. That’s where I’ll need your help.”

Luz listened but her mind was sorting the information. She tried to remember the attack. Could it have been a woman? Why was that idea so hard to grasp? She herself had had days when she wanted to kill everyone in sight, but that was due to a monthly hormonal change—not psychotic impulses or a mental break of some kind.

“Earth to Santos, come in Santos.”

Luz looked up and everyone was staring at her.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking about something.”

Mike sighed. “I asked you if you wanted to add anything.”

“Umm… everyone already knows about the harassment I’ve been getting. What about the fact that the mayor used to own a duplicate of the murder weapon?”

Shocked whispers spread around the room.

“The mayor is a suspect?” asked Eddie.

Mike sighed and glared at Luz. “Detective Santos and I attended a charity auction at the mayor’s the other night and one of the items sold was a knife matching the one we found at the second murder scene. There are eighteen other knives floating around and we are not pursuing the mayor as a suspect. After reviewing his impenetrable security system, we have concluded that it would be impossible for anyone but the mayor to have access to any of the knives in his collection. The mayor was out of town at the times most of these murders took place. He is under constant surveillance by his own security team and we’ve ruled him out as a suspect.”

The whispers continued and Mike, looking irritated, raised his voice. “Let me remind everyone that this information stays in this room.” He looked at Sonny. “Anything else, Malone?” Sonny shook his head. “Good. We’ll meet on Monday to discuss further details of the case. Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone filed out of the room, but Luz stayed where she was, thinking about the fact that the killer was a woman. She decided to pay Antoinette Peterson another visit.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

My rage for now is kept at bay

Though my thirst for revenge must be obeyed

They believe they’ve found their horror-host

But they merely chase a vengeful ghost.

May 23rd, 2002 12:49 p.m.

Luz went back to her office to get Ms. Peterson’s address. She knew if she called for an appointment the woman would only hang up. She would use the element of surprise and hopefully get some useful information this time around. She washed down a few aspirin, happy her wounds were healing. She could almost tie her shoes without wincing in pain.

On her way out, she went by Mike’s office to tell him she’d be away for a couple of hours. Passing his secretary’s desk, she was surprised to find Eddie in deep conversation with Rosa. He sat with his back to Luz, so she couldn’t see him but by the look on Rosa’s face, there was some flirting going on. She stopped to watch, amused.

Rosa caught her eye and stopped twisting her hair around her finger.

“Did you need something, Santa?” Rosa asked. Eddie stiffened and turned around.

Luz looked at him and shook her head. “No. I just wanted to stop by and say hi,” she said, suppressing a laugh. Eddie looked uncomfortable. “Bye.” Luz waved, and Rosa glared at her.

Luz high-tailed it to the elevators but Eddie managed to catch up to her. He stopped to catch his breath.

“Luz…” he began.

She held up her hand. “No need to explain, Eddie. I told you how I felt.”

“Just let me explain. Rosa… she’s just a friend.”

Luz looked at him squarely. “Eddie, frankly I could care less. I told you that I think of you as a friend. If you want to chase tail, that’s none of my business. I could comment on your taste in women but again, it’s none of my business. So go ahead and flirt. I. Don’t. Care.”

Eddie still looked guilty. Luz gave him a hug. “It’s okay, Eddie, really… now go and charm Rosa the way you charmed me, and you’ll have her in bed by midnight,” she joked.

A smile tugged at his mouth and Eddie gently slugged her shoulder. “I guess if I can’t have you, I’ll have the next best thing.”

She held up her hands “Whoa, I wouldn’t go that far but yeah, Rosa’s nice enough. Just be careful; she’s got a mean streak.”

“I like ’em sassy, gives me a challenge.” They laughed, and Luz got on the elevator and waved goodbye. When she stepped off, she came face to face with Nick. His sudden appearance startled her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was beginning to think you would stand me up for lunch, so I thought I’d stop by and make sure we’re still on.”

Luz looked at her watch, then back up at him. “Sure. I need to run home and drop off my things. My captain says I’m clear of any danger, so I can move back home. That of course means he’s got plainclothes posted in my neighborhood, doing drive-bys”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“No, not at all. I need to take Cheech for a walk anyway; he’s been cooped up in the room all morning.”

They walked back to the motel and Luz packed her things and put them in the car. They took a leisurely stroll down to the park where they had eaten before. With the reminder of the previous day’s visit, Nick spoke up.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday. It’s been so long since I’ve felt that comfortable with a woman— or anyone—and it kind of scared me a little bit,” he admitted.

Luz watched Cheech chase a squirrel around a bush and up a tree. He barked at it from the ground for a while before losing interest. Luz chose her words carefully.

“Nick, I’m not expecting anything from you at this point but friendship, and I certainly don’t want to put pressure on you for anything else. Especially if you’re not ready. You have a lot going on and I don’t want to add to that.”

He looked pensive for a moment before replying. “I’m not going to lie, I am attracted to you, but I think we both know it would be inappropriate to explore those feelings until this case is solved.”

Even though his words shocked her by creating a tingling sensation throughout her body she held her poker face. “I’m happy you feel that way and I fully agree with you,” she replied with a nod.

“Now that that’s out of the way, can we eat? I’m famished,” he asked rubbing his stomach.

Luz whistled for Cheech, and after re-leashing him they walked to the station’s parking lot. Luz headed toward her car, keys in hand.

“This is your car?” Nick asked enthusiastically. Luz thought he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Yeah. What did you think I drove?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were a Jeep or Volkswagen kind of woman or at least a department-issued Crown Vic.”

“Nah, too rugged, too boring and too cliché. I prefer speed over popularity. Everywhere you look there’s a new Jeep, Beetle or Jetta and don’t get me started on the crap the city wants us to drive. But how many cars do you see that look like this?” She swept her hand over her car, happy she’d gotten it back after the fiasco yesterday, they’d even managed to get the blood off the paint.

“You have a point there. This car is unique, especially with all the modifications you made to the body and no doubt to the engine.” He winked at her.

“You have no idea, get in. I’ll show you.”

She took the long way home, winding up and around the highway to show off the speed and agility of her car as well as her ability to handle it. By the time they got off the freeway she could tell Nick was impressed, though like Eddie, he gripped the door handle. Feeling satisfied, she smiled to herself.

“Sorry about that. I can get carried away. It’s been a while since I got to take her on a drive.”

“I’m fine,” he said, breaking his hold on the door. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in a car. I’ll just have to get used to it.”

As they pulled into the Lake Union Marina parking lot, Luz noticed the silence that stretched between them. She parked the car, grabbed her dog and bags and headed towards the docks. She noticed Nick wasn’t following her and she stopped and looked back.

“Are you coming?”

He looked lost in thought for a moment and reluctantly stepped forward. They walked down the dock to her houseboat and she let herself in. She checked her messages and refilled Cheech’s food and water bowls. When she looked up, Nick was nowhere to be found. She checked the bathroom and kitchen, but he wasn’t there. Finally, she opened the door and checked outside. He was still standing on the dock, looking out across the water.

“You are welcome to come inside,” she said, wondering why he hadn’t. He looked at the boat like it was a forbidden place then shook his head.

“I-I can’t, not right now,” he said softly. “I’ll go wait by the car.”

Luz watched him walk away; completely baffled until the words from the article came to mind: Leah Mason was found on the deck of her houseboat lying in a puddle of blood. Luz shivered and watched Nick cross the parking lot and take a seat on a bench. It occurred to her that maybe he hadn’t completely gotten over his wife’s death. He might even blame himself. She tore her gaze from him and went inside.

When she returned to the parking lot, he was waiting at the car. But instead of walking to the car she passed him up and kept walking.

“Where are you going?”

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I am, but…”

“Then follow me.”

They followed the walkway and came to a large two-story building that faced the water.

“This is Maggie Bluffs. I eat here all the time. Best fish and chips around and if you don’t like fish, try their burgers, you won’t be let down,” she said, smiling.

~

He smiled back but even he knew that it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t want to spoil their lunch like he had yesterday. He hadn’t known that Luz lived on a houseboat so and arriving at the Marina stirred up all kinds of memories of Leah, the sharpest of which was the night she was found with her throat cut. He tried to clear his mind while Luz took care of things inside, but the memories lingered. His inability to protect his wife left him with doubts about getting involved with anyone again. In any capacity. He knew the two should be separate—that Luz and Leah were different—but his mind wove them together and bound them tight.

They put in their order then went outside to choose a table. They settled on a comfortable spot where the breeze from the water was gentle and its salty fragrance filled the air. They sat and admired the view of the bay as they waited for their food to arrive. It was a warm day and many boats were on the water. Nick decided to tell Luz about Leah. If he had any intention of anything meaningful happening between them—even if it turned out to be a friendship—she deserved to know.

He looked over and found her gazing out across the marina; her green eyes aglow with the reflection of the sun on the water. She looked so lost in thought, he didn’t want to break her away, instead he took this time to study her. Her hair was freshly brushed and hung around her shoulders in long dark waves and her tanned skin looked soft. Her nails were cut and manicured. Clearly, she prided herself on her looks.

“Your meal,” the waiter said snapping each back to the present. They ate mostly in silence—the only sounds came from the chewing of their food and a passing comment about the weather. A very different situation from when they had lunch at the park and couldn’t stop chatting. It took some effort on Nick’s part not to grab the extra rolls and wrap them in a napkin to take with him. He had to keep reminding himself that he had the means to feed himself whenever he was hungry. There would be no more hoarding food. Mentally, it was a struggle for him to retrain himself, but he was making progress. Nick insisted on paying for the meal.

“Luz,” Nick said, stopping her on their way back to the car and spinning her so that they faced each other. “I need to tell you something.”

She stared at him warily for a moment and nodded. Nick realized he didn’t know where to start. He was quiet for a moment before he began.

“Leah, my wife; she was murdered seven years ago.” He nearly choked on the words but forced himself to continue. “I was a hotshot lawyer back then, caught up in my success. I was on the fast track to make DA and that meant a very busy schedule. One night there was a celebration dinner. I had just won a huge case and brought in a substantial amount of money and good press. Um, I was the guest of honor. So when Leah told me she wasn’t feeling well, I dismissed her concerns and asked her to get ready. She complained and asked me to go alone. I got angry and we argued. I eventually decided to go without her; but not without making her feel guilty for not supporting me in my career. She was crying when I left that night.” He paused and stared through Luz, imagining his argument with his wife so vividly, he could practically see Leah’s image beyond what was before him. “If… if I would have known that the last words she would hear from me would be harsh I would have…” he stopped, and his eyes were glossed over. “I would have told her how much she meant to me… how happy she made me… she always supported me, and I couldn’t protect her…” he trailed off, breaking eye contact with Luz.

Luz touched his shoulder. “Nick, you don’t have to tell me this.”

He looked up at her. “Yes, I do. If not for you, then for me. I haven’t talked about this for so long. I need to let it out.”

Luz stood motionless then told him to continue. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “I… I came home that night still angry at her, but the alcohol had softened me up a little. I could never stay angry with her for very long. She had a way about her…” he drifted off, again lost in his memories. “I remember walking down the dock and wondering why the lights in the houseboat were still on. The closer I got, the more alarmed I became and when I stepped onto the deck…” Nick began shaking and Luz led him to the nearest bench. His face was streaked with tears and his eyes were shut tight, but he didn’t care how he looked.

“…she was laying there. Dead. Blood all around her. Her beautiful hair was matted with blood and her eyes were fixed in horror and I… I screamed. My neighbors came out to see what had happened. One of them called the cops but I didn’t move. I couldn’t stop staring, not wanting to believe my eyes, not wanting to accept that she was gone. My heart… hurt so much… I remember not being able to breathe and not wanting to. At that moment my life lost all meaning. Without Leah I had nothing, I was nothing. All my success meant nothing if I had no one to share it with.” He smiled, imagining what could have been, what should have been his last words to Leah. “I should have told her that before I left that night, and she could have died knowing I loved her, appreciated her… cherished her. Instead, she died with my hurtful words echoing in her mind, my blatant ungratefulness and arrogance was the last image of me she saw.” He broke down and sobbed. Luz put her arms around him.

Her touch was warm. Comforting. Her voice held the same features. “Nick, it was just one night of anger. Think of all the happy, special nights you spent together. Even though you fought, she knew you loved her deeply. Every couple fights once in a while. You weren’t responsible. Whoever killed your wife is responsible. Do you hear me?”

He stopped crying and shook his head. “For days I blamed myself, I walked around like a zombie, consumed with grief. Then the day after her funeral I got a call, it was from a man who swore he saw Anthony Yates that night walking down the dock that led to my boathouse and drive away. Suddenly, I became angry and obsessed with putting that man behind bars. We put together a case with two witnesses. One was the man at the marina and the other swore he saw Yates board a plane at a private airport that night, heading to Phoenix. This case was all-consuming. I didn’t sleep well; I had lost weight, but I couldn’t stop until I found the man responsible and made him suffer the way I was suffering. Every day I woke up with this gaping hole in my chest, missing her with every fiber of my being. Someone had to pay.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “I went through great pains to make the case airtight, but it came apart at the seams in the courtroom. It was like Murphy’s law. It crumbled, and we lost. Yates was free.” Luz covered his hands with hers and he appreciated the comfort she gave him.

He continued, almost in a whisper, “It was then that I gave up on the system, because that system—the system I had sworn to protect—had failed me. Without Leah and without justice, I couldn’t bear to go on, but I was too much of a coward to kill myself. It would have been the easy way out, an insult to Leah’s death. So I punished myself. Dropped out of society and, except for my accountant friend, I told no one of my plan. I just vanished. Seven years I’ve been on the street, hiding from my past.”

He cleared his throat and squeezed her hand.

~

Luz was at a loss for words. A deep sorrow radiated from him and wrapped her up. Her heart ached for him. “Nick, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wishing there was something more she could do. He was so hard on himself, punishing himself for something he had no control over. Nick was stronger than he was giving himself credit for.

He sat quietly, the shaking had subsided, but the tears still fell. The two sat together, hand in hand, for an hour, Nick reflecting on his past and Luz pondering her future. Nick was a lost soul, searching for someone to help him lessen the burden of his wife’s death. If it were anyone else, Luz would consider a relationship with him to be a rebound, but this man was so emotionally frail, she doubted he could stand losing someone again. That thought brought perspective to their situation in a way that saddened her.

“Luz, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put this on you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he apologized, releasing her hand and wiping his face with his sleeve.

“Nick, you’re hurting. If talking about it helps, I’ll be here to listen. She was special to you and she should be remembered, but don’t blame yourself anymore, you’ll never heal, you’ll never move on.”

He shook his head “A couple of nights ago, I went to her grave for the first time in seven years. It was so hard, considering I had avoided facing her for so long. Oddly enough, I felt better after spending a couple of hours there, but my guilt didn’t lessen, not one bit.”

“It will take time.” She rubbed his back.

“I know.” He met her eyes. “Thank you, Luz, for being here with me. It’s been ages since I’ve had someone to call a friend.”

Luz smiled, but inside she wondered how smart it would be to get involved with a man haunted by his wife’s death. On the other hand, he had chosen her to confide in, her shoulder was the one he chose to cry on. She pushed her doubts away and kissed him on the cheek. The sadness in his eyes faded and was replaced with a look of surprise.

“What was that for?” he asked.

She smiled. “For finally facing your ghosts. You’re stronger than you think.”

Tires screeching.

Headlights sliced through the dark.

“Run.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Her own ghosts were another story entirely. She tried to blame the attack and lack of sleep for the nightmares, but she knew deep down she’d soon have face up to what they meant. She looked over at Nick. He did appear to be a bit better. Talking about someone else’s problems seemed easier than sharing her own, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to find someone she could confide in. She couldn’t carry this around too long or it would start to affect her job and she would not allow that to happen.

He let out a shaky laugh. “I just wanted you to understand why I tried pushing you away yesterday.”

Luz smiled at his confession. “When you’re ready, you will know. In the meantime, don’t worry about me. I can protect myself and I’m not going anywhere.”

He squeezed her hand again. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”

She got to her feet and curtsied. “No problem, but I have to get back to work. There is a killer running around.”

He rose and smoothed out his slacks. “Of course. I apologize if I took up too much of your time.”

“Nonsense. I liked spending time with you today,” she replied waving off his apology. “Let’s go.”

They walked back to the car and she dropped him off at the hotel before returning to work.

On the way back to the precinct, she played their conversation over in her mind. Nick was struggling to adjust after his period of homelessness; she could tell it would be a while before he was comfortable with his place in the world again. But did she want to be around to witness his transformation? Sure, she loved spending time with him, but would anything come of it? A better question would be would she let anything come of it? She had her routine, her family and her job, and for the most part, that was enough for her.

But on her loneliest nights didn’t she wish she had someone to open up to, someone who understood her on many levels, someone she could be herself with? She wasn’t placing any bets that Nick would be that person. She barely knew the man, but she’d never find a friend or a partner if she didn’t loosen up and allow herself to be vulnerable.

She sighed loudly; frustrated that her mind was wandering to places she rarely allowed it to travel. Well, if Nick could find the courage to change, she could, too, right?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The rage came, and my patience was tried

Such loose ends were left untied

Now I must go; must kill again

Another life that I must end.

May 23rd, 2002 8:30 p.m.

Elaine Murphy was preparing for bed. She had turned off all the lights in the house and was climbing the stairs to her room. She took longer these days going up the stairs and knew that soon she wouldn’t be able to climb them at all. Halfway up the staircase she was halted by a knock on the door. The time on the hall clock read 8:30 and she wondered who would visit her at this hour.

Slowly, she backed down the stairs, careful to hold the railing tight. The visitor knocked again as she peeked through the curtains next to the door. Cliff stood on the porch looking distressed. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hello, Cliff, what brings you here so late?”

He stood at the door, arms crossed tightly with a grim look on his face. “I think we did a very bad thing selling that knife, Elaine.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Elaine asked. She peered outside and opened the door wider. “Come in and I’ll make tea.” Cliff grabbed her hand and held it tightly—a little too tight for her liking. She glanced back at him and was startled at how pinched his pale face looked and how his eyes darted around the room.

“I can’t stay but I brought you this,” he said shakily and held out a newspaper. “There’s an article in there about a knife. There’s no picture but from the sound of it, I think it’s the same one you sold last week.”

Elaine shook her head, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. “Cliff, you know my eyes are bad. Won’t you come in and read it to me?” She turned and took a small step towards the parlor, but Cliff wouldn’t leave the doorway.

“I can’t stay, but I will summarize it for you. There have been numerous murders in Seattle involving a knife that matches the description of the one you sold. I think whoever bought that knife is killing those people. Since I didn’t see the man who bought the knife, you have to call the Seattle Police and give a description right away,” he pleaded.

Something cold slithered inside Elaine’s stomach and she felt sick. She gripped the doorknob for support.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Murphy?” Cliff asked, concerned enough to step into the foyer.

Elaine was lightheaded and weak. Cliff took her arm and helped her to the couch. He sat with her until her breathing evened out, then got up to leave.

“Please, Elaine, call the police. You could save lives,” he urged her. “The phone number to the detective running the case is at the bottom of the article. Call me if you need anything.”

He opened the front door and shut it behind him. Once he was gone, the house settled into an eerie silence. Elaine fetched her reading glasses and picked up the article. She read it with shaking hands and circled the phone number at the bottom, then grabbed her phone and dialed. She listened to the other line ring and ring until she got the voicemail. She left a message stating her name and number and the purpose of her call and asked for a call back. When she hung up, she felt anxious and mentally exhausted. The fact that Eugene’s knife might’ve played a part in a murder was too much to take in.

Please, God, don’t let this be happening, she thought. The guilt from selling the knife returned and she knew she would visit Eugene’s grave again the next day. But at that moment, she was tired and wanted more than anything to sleep. She pulled herself off the couch and slowly climbed the stairs to bed. She settled in and clapped the lights off. Elaine was grateful for the gift her grandson had given her. Without it, she was likely to fall out of bed reaching over the nightstand to turn off her lamp.

She pulled the quilt to her chin and closed her eyes. She would deal with the police first thing in the morning.

May 23rd, 2002 11:30 p.m.

Luz retrieved her Snickers bar from the vending machine, then walked down the darkened halls, returning to her office. When she sat down she noticed that her voicemail light was on. While she dialed in her password she assumed the message was left recently because she’d been doing paperwork most of the night, tracking leads and pulling files. She only left her office one time and that was to empty her bladder, stopping for the candy bar on the way back. She quickly dialed in the code to retrieve her latest voicemail.

An old woman’s voice spoke in her ear and at first, Luz thought it was Nelly, calling to invite her down for a visit, but the caller identified herself as Elaine Murphy. Luz bolted up in her chair as the message wore on. Apparently, this woman sold a knife exactly like the one described in the Seattle Times and only four days ago. Luz listened a little longer as the woman explained that she would call back in the morning and Luz made sure to save the message.

She decided it was too late to call the woman back. She thought of the killer; if the old woman had seen the killer, then she was in danger. After the one-legged bum’s murder, Luz didn’t want to take any chances. If she could prevent the old woman’s death, she damn well would. She picked up the phone and dialed.

~

Elaine Murphy opened her eyes and listened to the sounds of her old house as it settled for the night. Normally, the sounds were familiar and comforting, but something about them that night made her uneasy. Her mind wandered to thoughts of the killer and for the first time in her life she wondered how safe she was living alone. For a moment she considered moving to a nursing home. At least she would have friends around her; at least it wouldn’t be so disconcerting jumping at every little sound.

Maybe it was her old eyes, but she thought she saw a shadow move near the door of her bedroom. She tried to focus but couldn’t make out the shape of anything significant. She was about to clap on the lights when her phone rang. The sound nearly gave her another stroke. She reached over and picked up the receiver of her antique Danish phone.

“Hello?” Elaine answered in a voice that shook from her little scare.

“Mrs. Murphy?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“This is Detective Santos with the Seattle Police Department. You called earlier about a knife you sold a few days ago. You say it was a gentleman who came to your house for the knife?”

“Um… yes, that’s correct. Miss Santos, it’s almost midnight, why on earth are you phoning me so late? I would have called in the morning.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the detective spoke. “I know you would have. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Elaine looked around the room, searching for moving shadows but found none and felt foolish for being spooked so easily.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine,” she said, much more confidently than she felt.

“Are your doors locked?”

Elaine mentally traced her steps through the house after Cliff’s visit and it occurred to her that she hadn’t locked the front door after he’d departed. But she didn’t want the detective to worry on her account. “Yes. Everything is secure.”

“Are you sure? You live in Carnation, is that right? If you want, I can send a police officer over to keep an eye on your house.”

“No, no, dear, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine,” she said more firmly. She would not be scared in her own home.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then. Thank you for tolerating my interruption so late.”

“Good night, detective,” Elaine said softly, the lack of sleep and events of the day catching up with her.

“Good night, Ms. Murphy.”

Elaine descended the stairs at a snail’s pace. Her body wasn’t used to the extra exercise she’d gotten lately, and she felt the ache in her bones. She reached the front door and threw the bolt down, securing the front entrance of her home. Again, she began climbing the stairs—it was an arduous task with her weak bones, but she made it to the top without incident.

Suddenly, her feet were no longer touching the hardwood floors of her hallway. She was flying. He arms flailed and she felt as if she were flapping like a bird.

She saw the stairs pass beneath her in slow motion, and she swept her eyes up over them, all the way up to a dark figure at the top, and the light from her room caught on the metal object in his hand.

She then became aware that she was not flying but falling. She closed her eyes tightly, preparing herself for impact. She bounced off the last step and landed in a crumpled heap. She knew at once that her hip was dislocated but she couldn’t place the pain that stabbed at her neck and shoulder. Dazed and in tremendous pain, she opened her eyes, but the figure was no longer at the top of the staircase.

She tried to turn her head, but the pain was so great she nearly fainted, so she closed her eyes and remained still. Heavy footsteps came from behind her.

Her final thoughts as the knife cut through the wrinkled flesh of her neck were of her late husband, Eugene. Soon she would apologize to him herself. Face to face.

May 24th, 2002 2:01 a.m.

Luz checked the map again. She had driven across the 520 bridge to highway 202, and now she was on a road named Tolt Hill. She had been on the road for some time and wondered when she would see civilization. Driving through the country brought up memories of her childhood and she was occupied with them for most of the trip, but she was getting impatient. She crossed over a bridge and saw the distant lights of the small town. Soon she found herself at a crossing and took a left on Tolt Avenue. She drove through the town and, after a few more turns, pulled up in front of the Murphy house.

The house was old and falling apart in a few places, but it held up well for its age. Mrs. Murphy had kept the house looking nice, as well as the surrounding land. There were rose bushes around the porch and the grass looked freshly mowed. Luz could tell a landscaping crew had been there recently. Dark shutters flanked the windows and the porch wrapped around the front to the back of the house. It was beautiful but much too large for an old woman living alone. Luz caught sight of a swing hanging on the porch; she had had her first kiss on a porch swing like that.

Smiling, her eyes moved from the porch to the doorway and her heart skipped a beat. The huge oak door was ajar, and the breeze stirred the curtains just inside.

A heavy lump formed in her stomach and she immediately called 911. The operator came on the line.

“My name is Luz Santos. I’m a detective with the Seattle Police. I’m in Carnation at Elaine Murphy’s place of on Bagwell Street. I need back up for a possible assault or homicide situation.”

The dispatcher patched her to the police department and she repeated her request. She also told them that she was going in the house in five minutes whether they were there or not because Mrs. Murphy might be in danger. The sheriff told her to stay put and she hung up on him.

She kept her eyes on the front door and when she felt she couldn’t wait any longer she un-holstered her gun and got out of the car. Creeping up the walk, she stayed as silent as possible but when she ascended the steps to the porch, an old floorboard groaned loudly with her weight. At that point she gave up on being quiet and opted to use speed. She kicked open the door and shouted “police”, but the silence dragged on.

With her gun drawn, Luz stepped across the threshold, keeping her back to the door. A few steps into the foyer and the smell of human waste hit her hard. She reached for the nearest switch and turned on the lights. After seeing what the light revealed, she wished she hadn’t.

Elaine Murphy was on her back at the foot of the stairs; her blank stare fixed at the ceiling. Her legs were bent at unnatural angles, and her white hair was soaked with blood from the puddle that had formed under her neck. The expression on her face struck Luz as very odd. The old woman had died with a smile on her face.

Sickened, Luz ran outside and leaned on the porch railing while nausea washed over her. She let the results spill all over the rosebushes. She heard sirens coming closer and decided she would wait for the locals to arrive.

How many more bodies would she have to see before they stopped this madness?

May 24th, 2002 7:45 a.m.

“A smile?” Mike Andrews asked.

“Yeah, like she saw what awaited her in the great beyond and was happy about it. It was strange,” Luz replied, trying to shake the image from her memory where she was sure it would remain for a long time.

“Or maybe the killer told her a joke before she cut her throat,” Eddie added.

Luz shot him a look. “First of all, that was not funny or appropriate; second of all, Elaine told me it was a man who came to see her, mustache and all.”

Eddie’s face flushed but he continued. “It’s not hard to find a disguise, you know. If it is this Aberleen woman, I’m sure she could find a fake mustache.”

“I spoke with a man from Elaine’s church, Cliff Saunders, and he said that whoever bought that knife must have been a man, and the voice over the phone was male. The email address they had for the bidder was lost when they shut down the website. Cliff said if he happens to remember it, he’ll give me a call.”

“He didn’t write it down? If someone harassed me for weeks, I would remember the address,” Eddie said.

“Apparently the man works for a small software company and deals with hundreds of emails a day. Plus, the fact that it’s been a few weeks since the killer emailed him. We’ll have to wait to see what we can recover,” Luz said, placing her hands on the table.

After the Carnation police had processed the murder scene and asked her questions, Luz had driven back to Seattle, first to let Cheech out and second to call everyone back for an emergency meeting. Sonny was sitting across from her staring at his coffee cup, Eddie was on her right, Mike at the head of the table and two other officers flanked Sonny. For three hours they had worked with the Carnation police department on evidence and theories; they had nothing to show for it. All they knew was that this event was connected to their case and that they were running out of time.

Luz was tired and running on a short wick. “I’m going over to see Antoinette Peterson. She deserves a closer look.” Luz stood up and prepared to leave.

“That is not a good idea, Luz. She filed a complaint against you, and she could sue for harassment if she’s innocent,” Mike warned.

“No she couldn’t. I’m conducting an investigation. The only prints we have are from a woman and so far, she’s the only female suspect we have,” Luz snapped.

“I don’t care, you’re not going over there. I’ll send Harris, or Lopez but not you.” Mike’s voice left no room for argument.

Luz glowered at him then sat back down. “Fine but send Eddie not Harris. He’ll be anything but nice and you will have more than one complaint on your hands,” she said. She noticed Eddie leaned toward Mike and whispered something in his ear.

“Hey!” she yelled. “What the fuck? This is a meeting. Anything you need to say should be said for all to hear.”

Eddie stopped what he was doing and avoided her eyes. She looked at Mike and he did the same thing.

“What’s going on?” she demanded and the silence that followed was uncomfortable. Luz considered what they could be keeping from her and figured it out. Instead of getting upset she remained calm and collected. “You still consider Nick a suspect, don’t you?” she asked without blinking.

Mike met her gaze. “We don’t think there’s one killer. It might be two people and yes, we were considering Mr. Mason again.”

Even though the thought that Nick could be involved was like a punch in the stomach, Luz nodded. “He’s staying at the Ramada Inn. You should send someone down to question him right away.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed into slits as he studied her. She was so mad she could burst. Instead, she reined her anger and sugarcoated it.

Ssomewhere in the farthest part of her mind Luz wondered if Nick was involved.

With all her heart, she hoped he wasn’t.

~

Nick sat on his bed, propped up by pillows. He was reading the Seattle Times. There was an article about the murders and he wanted to keep himself up to date on any recent events. There was a knock on the door and he slid off the bed and peered through the peephole.

Luz stood outside, looking sullen. He opened the door quickly. “What’s wrong? You look like someone ran over your puppy,” he said.

Just then, Officer Lopez stepped out from behind the corner. “Heya, Nick, how are you doing?”

Nick looked from one face to the other, confused, before he remembered his manners and invited them in. Luz sat at the desk, but Eddie remained standing, towering over Nick by about five inches. Eddie rested one hand on the butt of his gun and the other hung loose at his side. He seemed relaxed, and kind of happy, as if he were enjoying a private joke. Luz, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She stared at the wallpaper like it was the Mona Lisa, studying it intently.

“What can I do for you, detectives?” Nick asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Nick—” Luz began.

“Mr. Mason where were you last night?” Eddie asked, cutting her off.

Nick looked around the room. “Here,” he said. “Why?”

“Never mind that. Can you provide proof that you were here the entire night?”

“I ate down in the restaurant last night. You can ask the waiter who served me.”

“What time was that?”

“Around nine or so.”

“Where did you go then?”

“Back here.”

“Can you prove that?”

“What’s going, on Luz?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Eddie tried to cut in again, but Luz was faster. “Lopez, take a seat. I got this one.” Eddie stayed where he was, keeping an eye on Nick.

“Nick, last night there was a murder in Carnation. An old woman is dead because she saw the killer’s face. I spoke with her only hours before this happened, and she swears it was a man she saw. So naturally the police department has to check out everyone and unfortunately, that includes you.” She swallowed hard.

He sat on the bed and nodded. “I understand,” he said and then brightened up. “Last night around midnight there were a bunch of teenagers in the next room throwing a party. I’m assuming they came here after prom. Anyway, I called the front desk to complain about the noise. The man at the front desk will tell you it’s true.”

Luz looked relieved and looked at Officer Lopez. “Anything else, Officer?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

Eddie’s face was set in a grim expression. He put his notebook away and headed for the door. “No, but if your story doesn’t check out, we will be back,” he said.

Luz followed him into the hall and turned to thank Nick for his cooperation.

“Thank you, Mr. Mason. We apologize for disrupting you,” she said.

“It’s no problem. I enjoyed your company.” Nick winked at her, then stepped back so that Eddie wouldn’t see him as he mouthed the word “dinner”. Luz nodded, quickly tamping down the thrill she felt.

“We need to get back to work, detective,” Eddie said.

Luz waved goodbye to Nick and walked out the door.

Nick felt the tension drain from his muscles. While jail was somewhat comfortable for him, he didn’t want to go back.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Another life greedily taken

Another human noticeably shaken

The game is growing harder to play

And I want them to know that I like it that way

May 24th, 2002 6:30 a.m.

Cliff Saunders had never been so scared in his life. He shook from head to toe and for good reason. In his hand he held a piece of paper with a death threat written on it—and it wasn’t just his death promised in the letter; his family was also in danger.

After speaking with the police at Elaine Murphy’s house he had driven home, shaken and sick to his stomach. He filled his wife in on the events of the morning and she listened attentively, assured him that things would be all right, then returned to bed. It was early in the morning and his two children, Lisa and Jeremy were still asleep, but he was too anxious to get any rest.

He went downstairs and made himself some coffee and toast and thought about poor Mrs. Murphy. When he finished eating he went back upstairs, but not straight back to his bedroom. He felt the need to check on his son and daughter. He loved his children more than life and his job was to keep them safe. First, he went to Jeremy’s room. The ten-year-old was laying on his stomach, snoring softly, with a peaceful expression on his face. The room was dark, but Cliff could see the posters of racecars on the walls and the model cars on the dresser. Jeremy loved everything about cars and his father dreaded the day he got his driver’s license. Cliff walked over to the bed pulled the blanket up and kissed his son on the head before leaving the room.

Tiptoeing down the hall, he stopped at Lisa’s room. Her door was cracked, and he could see the glow of her princess nightlight from the hall. He stepped into the room and smiled. It was like stepping into a fantasy land. Lisa was six years old but demanded her walls be pink to match her princess blankets and sheets. Dolls of all sorts and pictures she had drawn in class decorated the room. Lisa took pride in her accomplishments, no matter how small. Cliff knew she would grow into a beautiful successful woman someday.

He moved closer to the bed and stopped dead in his tracks. Icy dread filled his chest and a bead of sweat formed on his upper lip. There was a folded piece of paper with his name on it resting on his daughter’s chest. He watched it for a while as it rose and fell with her breathing, willing it to be his imagination. When he couldn’t take it any longer he carefully picked up the paper, then he kissed his daughter’s head and left the room.

He stood in the hallway, shaking and holding the note in his hand. He unfolded it and read it: If you help the police find me I’ll find you and you’ll find yourself dead along with your beautiful wife and precious children. You’ve been warned.

Cliff leaned on the wall, weak and scared. The killer had been in his house; had seen his family, had touched his daughter. It was too much to bear. He felt so helpless.

He walked down to the dining room and picked up the phone but put it down quickly when he considered that someone might be watching him.

He went to the kitchen and took a knife from the cutlery set on the counter, then he searched his house, room by room, his heart pounding fiercely against his ribs. At one point he stopped and looked at the knife in his hand, what are you doing, man? he asked himself. He wasn’t Indiana Jones or John McCain. If he did encounter the killer, he doubted he’d be able to overpower him.

But he thought of Elizabeth, Lisa and Jeremy and his resolve returned twice as strong. He had cleared the upstairs and most of the downstairs, the living room and the den remained. He stepped into the living room and crept into every corner, knife held in front of him protectively—no one was there. Slowly, he entered the den and found the same was true, the house was empty of intruders.

Deflated, he sat on the nearest couch to catch his breath. He didn’t realize he’d not been breathing. Instinct told him to call the police, but his love for his family overshadowed that instinct, and he was left powerless and totally at the killers will.

Eyes closed, he thought of Elaine’s murder and cold shivers ran over his skin like icy rain. He stood and went to the closet of the den and pulled out a sleeping bag, he would booby trap the back door and stand guard at the foot of the stairs all night if he had to.

All morning, he stayed awake; a dutiful sentry, and by the time everyone else woke and began their day, he’d come up with a plan. If he couldn’t go to the police for help, he would track down the killer himself.

May 24th, 2002 9:53 a.m.

Antoinette Peterson had woken up early that morning; today was her first wedding anniversary with her dear husband. He had left for work but promised her he would be home early to celebrate. She smiled in anticipation, surprised he could still give her butterflies.

Normally it was her day to host the neighborhood card game, but the other women had pushed her up to next Friday so she could pack and prepare for the special weekend trip Alan had planned for them—he’d kept the location a secret.

She was up half the night trying to guess where he would take her. She knew he’d pick the perfect place. She really was a lucky woman. She’d hinted to him on a few occasions that she would love to go up to Vancouver, Canada or down to Seaside, Oregon, but she had a feeling he’d chosen another destination and the anticipation was killing her.

She remembered Mildred and all the other victims of the murders and decided that using the word “killing” probably wasn’t the best way to describe her excitement. She put down the laundry she’d been folding and fought hard to hold back tears. Every time she thought she was over Milly’s death she found herself crying even more. She would never be able to undo her actions from that fateful day when Milly had approached her and asked for help; and she would have to live with that guilt for the rest of her life.

That obstinate detective at the police station would never understand the immense weight of the guilt she carried.

What was her name? Santa? Santo? That was it. Detective Santos was not only rude but unforgiving. Antoinette knew she had to live with the consequences of her actions, but that detective had rubbed Antoinette’s nose in it and smeared it around to the point where she felt she was the one holding the knife that killed her friend.

She took a deep breath and began folding the laundry again. There was no point in rehashing the whole thing. She had already played it over in her mind a million times; Milly approaching her that day, and instead of what Antoinette did, in her head, she imagined herself walking away from her friends, taking Milly into her arms and telling her she could live with her, and she could stay as long as she liked; and they would have lived happily ever after. But if she was ever going to move on she needed to concentrate on her life. Was that just as selfish as turning down a friend in her time of need?

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and she grabbed the basket of folded clothes. She opened the door prepared to smile and invite in whomever was on her porch but when she saw who her guest was, her smile disappeared, and she started to close the door.

“Mrs. Peterson, don’t you dare close that door. I have a few questions for you.”

“I have nothing more to say to you, detective. Now, good day,” she said. She tried to shut the door, but it wouldn’t close. She glanced down to see a large tennis shoe wedged into the doorframe. Her eyes traveled from the shoe up to the face and she opened the door. “So, you brought back up this time.”

Eddie smiled and nodded. “Ma’am, we just have a few quick questions. We realize it’s an inconvenience, but this won’t take long.”

Antoinette considered that for a moment and put down the laundry basket. She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her, walking past them to the porch swing and taking a seat. “You have ten minutes, then I want you off my property,” she said.

The two looked at each other and Santos stepped forward. “There was another murder last night,” she said, letting the words sink into Antoinette’s mind.

“What does that have to do with me?”

Luz ignored her. “Is Antoinette your birth name, Mrs. Peterson?”

“Yes, but I don’t understand how this is relevant—”

“Have you ever been to New York?”

Still confused, Antoinette decided to cooperate to get everything over with. “No, never. I told you I grew up in Spokane. Can’t you check these things on your computers?” she asked.

Detective Santos narrowed her eyes. “Yes, but the information on the computers isn’t always correct and there are certain things you can’t get from a computer.”

“Like…”

“Like nervous ticks or evasive eye contact—physical impressions, if you will. I like to give my prime suspects a chance to come clean themselves. It makes it easier for them.” She stepped back.

Without another word Antoinette got up from her seat and walked back inside. Before closing the door in their faces, she looked straight at Luz and said, “See you in court, Ms. Santos.”

~

Eddie followed Luz down the steps shaking his head. “You’ve done it now, Santos, Mike’s gonna shit a brick if she sues.”

Luz didn’t bat a lash. “She won’t sue,” she said flatly and opened the car door. Eddie got into the passenger side.

“What do you mean she won’t sue?”

“If she sues, her past will be made public.”

“And…?”

“And that means her perfect little façade will crumble right before her eyes. Her friends don’t know she was homeless, they don’t know where she came from or who she used to be, and most of all, they don’t know that she abandoned a friend in her time of need because she was too afraid of how people would react knowing her past. Believe me, she will not sue. She has too much to lose.”

“You amaze me, Luz,” Eddie said, chuckling.

“I try. So, any more leads?” she asked.

“Nothing so far and you’ll be happy to know that your little boyfriend is cleared of all suspicion. His story checked out.”

Luz smiled at Eddie. “I knew it would. I told you, he’s innocent. Woman’s intuition.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I just thought you’d want to know.”

She grabbed his hand. “Now can we go back to being friends?”

She watched his eyes soften. “That never changed. Friends watch out for each other and that’s all I was doing the other day, watching out for my friend.”

She squeezed his hand and shifted into third as she got back on the highway. “I know, but I was so pissed I couldn’t think. We’ll just call a truce now and go on with our lives.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied looking out the window.

They drove back over the bridge into Seattle and back to the station. Eddie went to work, and Luz went upstairs to do the same.

She stopped by Mike’s office and warned him that Mrs. Peterson might be calling, but the woman had beaten her to it. After a very long, very boring lecture on harassing law-abiding citizens she went to her office.

A fresh vase full of yellow carnations was on her desk and she was pleasantly surprised. After their visit this morning sending flowers was the last thing she expected Nick to do. She found the card and it read: Rendezvous carnations, rendezvous at seven tonight, see you soon.

She turned the card over in her hand for a while, debating whether she should accept that dinner. She had a lot of work to do and Mike would need her to work overtime if they were going to catch the sick individual who was knocking people off left and right.

She picked up the phone and dialed the Ramada. The receptionist transferred her to Nick’s room but there was no answer. The receptionist came back on and asked if Luz would like to leave a message. She declined and hung up. She would try again later. If he didn’t pick up, she didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t very well stand him up because that would be horribly rude, and she was worried about disappointing him, or giving him the wrong impression. She didn’t even know what impression she wanted to give. She leaned over and smelled the flowers and the spell their scent cast over her made her decide to go to dinner after all. She mentally chose the dress and accessories she would wear for the evening, saving herself an hour once she got home.

She turned her focus to her work; typing up reports and reading through evidence files. She took another look at Antoinette’s profile, did some checking on her background and, to her dismay, it all looked legit. It looked like she owed the woman an apology. She would get around to that. She tried to concentrate on her work but once in a while the scent of the flowers wafted over to distract her. Finally, she got up, took the vase and placed it on the file cabinet across the room. But her eyes wandered back to the sun-colored petals so often, she ended up taking them out of her office and putting them on her secretary’s desk.

Satisfied that she’d removed all distractions, she returned to her office and to her work once again. But it didn’t take long before thoughts of Nick crept back into her mind. Frustrated, she put her head down on her arms and groaned.

“Luz, you are twenty-eight years old, get a grip,” she scolded herself.

She picked up the phone and set an appointment to get her hair and nails done. She was such a sucker for flowers.

May 24th, 2002 2:30 p.m.

The sign said NO SWIMMING, but Kenny didn’t care. He’d been swimming in these waters for most of his twelve years. Some stupid sign wasn’t going to stop him. He stood on the wall that separated the land from the water. He was barefoot and wore only his swimming trunks. It was unseasonably warm for May and he was going to cool off at his favorite swimming spot.

He looked around, searching for prying eyes. Finding no one, he dove head first into the icy waters of Lake Washington.

His brain registered two things. The first sensation came from the temperature of the water. It was a shock to his body. The second sensation was pain. It came when he was submerged but he had yet to complete the dive. He slammed, mid-plunge, into a hard, large object with enough force that pain exploded throughout his body with surprising intensity.

Paralyzed with agony, he let himself float to the surface. Once he sucked in some air, he kicked weakly to the wall. The action was incredibly painful, but his vision was blurred, and his head felt broken. He managed to pull himself out of the water and looked back, hoping to see the object that caused him such disorientation but only saw the dark water lapping lazily against the partition.

He used his hand to feel the top of his head and it was painful to touch. When he brought his hand back down it was sticky and covered in blood. Worried, he tried to get to his feet, but a light flashed before his eyes and he fell to the ground unconscious.

The sun kissed the horizon before anyone came looking for him.

May 24th, 2002 9:40 p.m.

I cannot sleep! I keep waking up covered in sweat. Is it from a dream? I can’t remember. My stomach is upset, and I feel like I will vomit. The champagne I drank earlier burns my stomach and I wish I would have waited to celebrate. But I deserved it, dammit; I’ve outsmarted the police, cut off all leads to my identity and disposed of evidence. That was cause for champagne.

From the bathroom I walk around my expansive room, from the large floor-to-ceiling windows back to my king-sized bed then back to the windows. I don’t want to look out into the night. If I do, I will lose myself once again.

In the beginning I killed who and when I wanted. I was in control of my hunger. But lately I haven’t been able to resist the need. Even when I don’t want to kill, I still take a life. The word “escalation” floats through my mind but I shake it off. I am still in control.

Instead of accounting for this strange obsession—I’ve tried to think of it as a game.

A game with high stakes and real blood.

Blood. What is it about watching the life flow from my victims that captivates me so? Why do I suddenly feel like a player in a game instead of the one in control?

The thought takes root in my mind and this time I can’t shake it loose. I walk back to my bed and climb under the covers. My breath comes too fast and hard and I hear my heartbeat pound my eardrums. I’m frantic.

It’s happening again.

I try to fight it. I squeeze my eyes closed, but then the itching begins. My skin is on fire, and I start scratching before I realize what I’m doing.

Eyes shut, I resist it as long as I can but when it feels like every cell in my body will tear apart, I give up. I give over to the pull and I dress quietly. Tonight, I am alone in the house. My absence won’t be detected. Taking the stairs two at a time I descend at a rapid pace, almost catching my foot on the bottom step. The itch is excruciating, and I wish I had taken the time to rub on the calamine lotion.

Then, I’m there. And the knife is so beautiful.

I pick it up and the wretched itching subsides. The temporary release of the torturous burning is such relief. It’s as if the knife promises me sanctuary if I choose to use it.

My mind wanders to the streets of Seattle, where the filthy people live like rats and soon my hatred merges with the promise of the knife.

I am unstoppable.

The hunt is on.

May 24th, 2002 10:13 p.m.

Nick and Luz walked along the street, hand in hand, oblivious to the world around them. They didn’t talk much, but the silence they shared was warm and comfortable.

He took her to an older part of Seattle, where most of the buildings showed their age with chipped paint and broken windows. Nick stopped in front of an old brick building.

“We’re here,” he announced with a flourish. The small sign on the door read: Mary’s Place, but nothing else about the building hinted as to what kind of business went on inside.

“Where are we?” Luz asked.

“This is Mary’s Place. It’s an emergency shelter for women and children who have no place to go. I like it because they empower these women to reclaim their lives. There’s no shame, only acceptance and dignity as they work to better their circumstances. It can be a long process for a lot of them, but they provide warm meals and a place to sleep for women and their children if they need it. I thought we could help them out with dinner tonight.”

The passion in his voice stirred something within her. This beautiful man cared so much for his community. And it made him that much more attractive to her. She walked up the stairs and pushed open the door, throwing him a look over her shoulder,

“Are you coming or what?” she asked playfully. He laughed, and he joined her inside.

~

They spent the next two hours lending a hand wherever they were needed. Nick watched Luz ladle soup into bowls and hand them out with smiles to the long line of hungry women and children. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, but a few tendrils had escaped and framed her luminous face—the auburn streaks contrasted well with her smooth dark skin.

He realized she likely spent some time getting ready for their date but any guilt he might’ve had vanished when she rolled up her sleeves, pulled her hair up and got to work.

When it was time for a break, they grabbed bowls of soup and some rolls and found seats at a crowded table. Luz spoke with those at their table with ease. It was when she made a silly face at a particularly sad-looking toddler—making the girl laugh—that he knew he’d made the right decision about their date.

~

They stood shoulder to shoulder at the large industrial sink in the kitchen, washing the last of the dishes.

“So, did you have fun tonight?” he asked.

“Of course I did,” Luz responded, wiping the sweat from her brow with a wide grin. “Were you worried I wouldn’t?” She shoved his shoulder with her own and laughed.

“Well, not many women would think this was romantic at all,” he said, glancing around the kitchen. When he brought his eyes back to her she pulled her hands from the sink and held them out.

“I see why you brought me here. This place makes a difference. It truly is amazing, and I can guarantee you this won’t be my last visit. I got just as much out of this date as those people did, so stop worrying, my nails will survive,” she said, plopping a few suds on his nose. She giggled and started washing the last pan.

“Oh is this how we’re going to play, detective?” he said, grabbing a handful of soapy suds. He watched her eyes widen as she realized what he was going to do. He dropped the suds on the top of her head and she squealed as they dripped down her face.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” She grabbed the now-clean pan, filled with soapy water and tossed the contents at him, instantly soaking his shirt through. He reached out and snatched her hand, pulling her toward him, quickly eliminating any chance of escape. He put his arms around her and trapped her in a very wet hug.

“There,” he said as she tried to wiggle free, “now we’re even.”

She quit struggling and went still looking up at him, even in her current state of disarray he found her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Those eyes full of mischief and something else… longing, maybe? He leaned down and captured her mouth with his. He felt her hesitate for a fraction of a second and then her arms slid around his waist and she gave into the kiss. When they broke away, they were breathless and began laughing at the same time.

“Look at us! We’re a mess,” Luz said.

“Come on, let’s finish up here and go get ice cream, I know a place,” he replied

“You had me at ice cream.”

~

They took their ice cream to go and walked down to the water. Luz told him about her job and her family and Nick shared more about his life before the tragedy of his wife’s murder. He was native to Washington, and only left to attend law school. He confessed that once his career advanced, he found a lot of his identity wrapped up in his role as a prosecutor. After Leah died, the distance from who he had become helped to put everything in perspective.

Luz couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d gone through losing his wife then living on the streets all those years, but she was glad that he seemed to have taken away good lessons from his nomadic lifestyle.

They found themselves walking through a touristy area of the boardwalk and Nick suggested they take a ride on a horse drawn carriage. Sitting in that buggy with their bodies so close caused certain senses to awaken that had been dormant inside Luz since the end of her relationship with Ben. Sensations she learned to keep in check were slowly fighting their way loose and leaving her shaken, but giddy.

Thinking about the horse ride made her feel warm all over and she squeezed Nick’s hand and when he squeezed back she wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. They returned to the hotel and she walked him to his door.

“Thank you. I had a wonderful time,” she said looking into his eyes. Her senses were on fire. She wondered how much longer she could deny the physical effect he had on her.

“That’s all I wanted. For you to enjoy yourself. You’ve been under so much stress. I knew you could use a night off.” He stared down at her and she was suddenly aware of how little space separated them.

“Goodnight,” she said, backing up a step.

“Goodnight,” he said, stepping closer. He pulled her toward him and pressed his lips to hers. Every alarm in her body went off at once as she lost herself in the moment.

He pulled away with a smile. “Do you want to come in?” he asked cautiously.

“Are you feeling lucky, Nick? Because I’m not that kind of girl.” Luz gave him a wry smile and watched a blush creep slowly up his neck.

“Um, that’s not what I meant at all. I don’t know if this is the sugar talking but I’m really not that tired and was thinking about renting a movie on the TV. You game?”

Again, she hesitated. But she’d had a lot of fun and didn’t want the date to end. “Can we at least rent one with a car chase in it?”

She saw relief pass over his features when he answered. “Of course, I know my way to a woman’s heart.”

~

Nick lay next to Luz, watching her. The weight of her in his arms was comforting. She had fallen asleep midway through the movie and was now slumped into his side. A sense of peace stole over him and he could do nothing but enjoy the feeling of her body next to his.

He had never expected to fall for her so quickly, but from the first time he saw her in that jail cell he’d been unable to think about much else. But now, because of her, he wanted to stop thinking about his past and start thinking about a future. A future that hopefully included Luz.

His own eyes were heavy, but he wanted to remain awake as long as possible to savor the moment. He had hidden away for seven years but she made him want to start living again.

He slid off the couch and shifted her into a horizontal position before placing a comforter over her. He thought maybe he should wake her but with the case taking up almost all her time, he imagined she needed the sleep.

~

A scream broke the silence and he was instantly awake and searching the room for the source. Finding no immediate threat, he crossed the room to check on Luz. She was thrashing on the couch. Her blanket lay in a heap on the floor. He approached her slowly, remembering that doctors advise to never wake someone from a nightmare. That course of action dissolved when he heard her crying. He gently nudged her shoulder, hoping it would wake her.

“So much blood,” she whispered and started shaking. He couldn’t allow the nightmare to continue so he called out to her. “Luz, you need to wake up right now.”

He watched her eyes open and focus on him. “What happened? Was I snoring too loud?” she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She acted so put together, but Nick didn’t miss that she wiped her tears with the heel of her hand.

“No, but you were having a nightmare and it sounded pretty bad. Something about blood?” he asked and instantly wished he hadn’t. She went white as a sheet and looked away.

He grabbed her hand. “Luz, you’re safe here. You don’t have to leave but you do have to move to the bed.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Hey, you wouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation, would you?”

He wasn’t in the mood to joke with her. “Tempting, but no. You need to rest, and the bed will be easier than the couch. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’m going to grab you a glass of water.” He headed for the kitchenette.

When he returned with her water, he stopped upon noticing that Luz had gotten up and was observing the fully-made bed which was missing a single pillow. She had one hand on her hip, and the other ran along the comforter. His stomach dropped. She walked to the side of the bed, and there, wedged between the bed and the wall, she found the spare blanket he’d grabbed from the closet and the pillow missing from the bed. She placed a hand over her mouth.

He felt his neck heat, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed. It was who he was. He shouldn’t be ashamed. He cleared his throat, and Luz jumped a little. She turned to face him, but it was so dark he could only see the slightest glint in her eye. He hoped she didn’t pity him. He’d have to put a stop to that if it were the case.

“Yes, you guessed it. I sleep on the floor. I really don’t want to. I want to turn the page, get on with the next chapter of my life, move forward but… I don’t know if I can explain it. Yes, it’s more comfortable than the bed but I feel safer down there too. I know it makes no sense but—”

“Shh,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “You don’t have to explain a thing to me. As you can see, I’m not without my own demons. I don’t want to talk too much about mine, but just know that I had to make a hard decision on the job one night and the consequences kind of sneak up on me when I’m asleep. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“What do you say we get some sleep?” he asked. He watched her climb into bed and dropped a kiss on her forehead before lowering himself back down to the nest of blankets on the floor.

“Hey Nick?” he heard her whisper.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Back atcha, detective,” he replied. “Now go to sleep.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The night was long, the itch remained

I have to kill to stop the pain

People walk all around

Another victim in the ground

May 25th, 2002 8:15 a.m.

Nick and Luz woke to a sharp knock on the door.

“Who could that be?” Nick asked standing to stretch.

From the bed Luz groaned. She knew who it was, and she didn’t want to be caught in Nick’s hotel room even if she’d slept fully clothed. Eddie would assume that they’d slept together, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with his reaction. After her middle-of-the-night crisis, she had slept surprisingly well. Maybe sharing part of her past with Nick had helped. She certainly felt lighter, and as though they were exchanging things. She was communicating, and while she hadn’t told Nick everything, she was proud of herself for admitting any sort of weakness and for talking about her trauma, even if it was only in vague terms. She jumped off the couch and collected her purse and shoes from the floor.

“I’ll be in the bathroom. Whatever happens, I’m not here,” she said walking past him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in and kissed her. She walked away from him with a smile. The knock came again and she hurried into the bathroom where she saw her phone charging. Shit 2 missed calls. She thought when she checked the screen.

“Mr. Mason, it’s Officer Lopez. I need to speak with you,” Eddie called from the hallway. Luz scurried into the bathroom and peeked out as Nick pulled on a sweater and opened the door a crack.

“Yes, officer? What can I do for you?” he said. Eddie craned his neck trying to look past Nick into the room, but Nick stepped into his line of sight.

“Is… is Detective Santos in there?” Eddie asked with a hint of uncertainty and reluctance. Like he knew the answer but didn’t want to hear it.

Nick cleared his throat and shook his head. “No,” he answered.

Eddie eyed him, then smiled. “If you see Detective Santos,” he said a little too loudly, “please tell her I have urgent news for her.”

“I certainly will. Thanks,” Nick said, quickly closing the door. Luz watched as Nick looked through the peephole.

Luz stepped out of the bathroom with her hair slightly mussed after not being able to find anything larger than a comb. She was worried for a moment about how she looked and what Nick would think of it. Nick stared at her with a sort of longing in his eyes that gave her chills, and she started toward him when her cell phone chirped and broke the moment.

They stood in a shocked silence before Luz winced and answered the ringing phone in her hand.

“Santos.”

“That is so weird. I’m standing outside of Mason’s room and he just told me you weren’t there, and I call your phone and hear it ringing from the hallway. Coincidence? I think not. Open the door, Santos. I know you’re in there.”

Luz hung up and stomped toward the door. Nick stopped her again on the way and kissed her again, I could get used to this, she thought happily. She opened the door and the look on Eddie’s face was enough to make her want to smack him. His expression was somewhere between amusement and disappointment.

“Well, well, well, Santos, I gotta hand it to you, you—”

“Save it Eddie. What’s the urgent news?” she asked.

“We found the car,” he stated, looking her up and down, his eyes hovering a little too long on her breasts. Luz was in business mode, so she ignored his behavior.

“Where did they find it?” she asked.

“You’ll never guess. It was underwater somewhere across the lake.”

“What? In Lake Washington?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

“You got it.”

“Did they trace it?”

“Listen, I don’t know all the details. The meeting starts in twenty. It was my job to track you down. After going to your boat, this was my next guess. It turns out I was right,” he said, smiling.

“I’ll need to run home and change. I’ll see you at the office,” she said, shutting the door, then thinking better of it. She stuck her head out.

“Eddie!” she called.

“Yeah?”

“I would appreciate it if you would keep this little episode between us,” she said softly, but in what she hoped was a firm voice.

“My lips are sealed.” He mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

“Thanks,” she said, sighing with relief as she closed the door and faced Nick. “I have to go now, but I’ll call you later… if I’m not too busy.” She picked up her purse and grabbed her keys from the desk.

Nick strolled over and wrapped his arms around her, bending down so that their foreheads were touching.

“You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. Thank you for the most fun I’ve had in a very long time. I know you have to leave but I want to know when I will see you again.”

She flushed, and he dropped a chaste kiss on her mouth. He pulled away, giving her a knowing look and walked to the bathroom. “I have a few things I have to take care of today so if you come by and I’m not here just leave a message for me at the front desk,” he called from inside.

She opened the door to the hall. “Will do. And, Nick… thanks.” He peeked out from the doorway, giving her a little wink. She left the room and walked to her car with a spring in her step She thought about him all the way home and to the office.

~

She arrived in the Storm Room thirty minutes later. When she walked into the room she heard a few snickers from the back, so she threw Eddie a look. But it didn’t faze him. He stared at her defiantly, grinning.

Keeping her temper in check, she took a seat at the table and Mike began the meeting. “Thank you all for showing up,” he said, looking at Luz. “Even if some of you arrived late. We have found the car the killer was driving the night Santos was attacked. Unfortunately, we’ve had a citizen suffer an injury, which is how the vehicle was discovered. Kenneth Bradley, a twelve-year-old boy from Juanita, was severely hurt. He decided to go swimming in a restricted area of one of the parks over there, and when he dove, it was headfirst into the trunk of the Honda.

“I don’t know how long the car was sitting there. We have the lab guys working on that. But it is a 1995 Honda Accord, missing a hubcap and a bullet hole in the back windshield. So we know it’s our car, now what it was doing there is what we’d like to find out. The boy’s brothers found him late last night passed out on the grass near the water, a huge gash in the top of his head. He was still wet, so they knew he must have been in the water. His parents took him to the hospital and the boy sustained a serious concussion and had to have eight stitches in his head. After hearing what happened they called the police, who pulled the car out and gave us a call. So, we have the car. It might not be much but it’s something. And we haven’t had anything on this case since recovering the knife.”

“What about the tags?” asked Luz.

Sonny stood up. “We ran them, and they belong to a Buick Regal that was reported stolen a few years back, so we ran the VIN number to the car and it’s registered under the name…” he paused looking at the captain for approval and went on; “Leah Mason.”

Luz’s heart stopped for a second and she looked at Mike. “That was Nick’s wife,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Leah Marie Mason, born January seventh nineteen-sixty-seven in Issaquah, Washington. Married to Nicholas Mason in the summer of eighty-nine, died in July ninety-four. Yes, I’m sure,” Sonny said looking down at her sadly. “Sorry kid.”

Her head spun, and the bitter taste of betrayal filled her mouth. She was going to be sick. “I… I need to talk to Mr. Mason,” she said, holding her head in her hands.

“He’s in custody downstairs,” Mike said softly. “I had Lopez pick him up this morning after…” he trailed off, but Luz got the point. Fuming, she glared at Eddie and stormed out of the room. Without stopping to breathe, she rode the elevator to the ground floor and took off towards the holding cells. She snapped at the guards to follow her and unlock the cell.

Nick stood up and walked toward her. “Luz, what’s happening?” he asked but once inside the cell she brought her hand up and slapped him hard across the face.

“You fucking bastard! You’ve been a part of this all along and you let me think you were this nice guy!” she screamed, beating his chest furiously. He grabbed both her hands and shook her.

“Listen to me! They told me what happened, and I can explain. Listen, dammit!”

She stopped struggling and dropped her arms, the fight leaving her. “Please explain fast because I think I’m going to be sick,” she whimpered. He led her to the bench and they sat down.

“When I disappeared seven years ago, I left everything I owned in storage. The house was sold as well as the cars. I paid someone to take care of the entire deal. I was too involved in my own grief to worry about it. My friend told me everything went smoothly and that’s when I took off. Whoever bought my car must have never transferred the title.”

She wiped her eyes and thought this through. “Was the title signed?”

“Yes, everything was in order.”

“Who is this friend of yours you trusted with all of this?”

“His name is Fredrick James. He is, well, was, my attorney on all matters of my estate. His wife worked at the credit union where my money is. They were good friends of ours—of mine, and I felt I could trust them. I went to high school with Candace, Fredrick’s wife. She’s a good person.” He paused when Luz stood up and took a pad of paper out of her back pocket. “What are you doing?”

Luz jotted down the information. “Taking notes. I’ll need to know his address, age, phone number…”

“Luz, that’s the thing I was going to do today. This man controls all of my money and I can’t find him.” He looked up at her, his expression jumbled and a bit hurt.

She sat in stunned silence for a minute. “What?”

“It’s true. I’ve been trying to locate him all week, but I’ve had limited resources.”

Luz asked him to give her any information he could remember about Fredrick James and she wrote it all down. Then she called to the guard to open the door, stepped out and let the door close and lock before turning to speak to Nick. She had to choose her words carefully, so he understood why her reaction to the new intel seemed so extreme.

“Listen, I’m sorry I flew off the handle there for a moment. I don’t trust easily and after last night I feel like I can be honest with you. This just came as a shock, after I thought I knew enough about you to believe you wouldn’t lie to me. Come here,” she ordered softly. He walked over so that their faces were inches apart. She reached in and caressed the cheek she had slapped. “Sorry,” she said. She could still see where she’d made contact; the skin was pink, and a slight outline of her hand remained. “It was too much to handle when I heard what I heard upstairs. If I get you out of here soon, will you forgive me?”

He covered her hand with his own and smiled. “I’ll forgive you either way, however it’s a relief to know you believe me. No apologies necessary. Now go work. I’ll stay here and nap. I was up late last night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She giggled and turned to leave. She hurried to the elevators and rode back up practically running back to the Storm Room. She entered and interrupted Eddie who was explaining that he had searched Nick’s hotel room and come up empty. Everyone stopped and watched her when she went over and whispered her findings to Mike, then she handed him her notepad and took a seat.

“All right, people, listen up! I need a full check on a Fredrick and Candace James. He was an attorney seven years ago in Seattle and she worked at Northwest Credit Union. They are both thirty-nine and they have one daughter named Chloe. She’s currently attending the University of Washington. I have an old address that needs to be checked out and all this other information needs to be logged. We’ll meet back here at four, understood?”

Everyone continued writing then looked up one by one and nodded. Luz watched them leave and approached Mike.

“Thanks Mike,” she said.

“It might turn out to be nothing, but it’s the only lead we have. Your boy Mason will have to stay locked up until we come up with something solid.”

“No problem. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Santos. I just hope Mason’s not lying, for his sake and yours.”

May 25th, 2002 10:01 p.m.

Nick sat in the cell and moped. He had sat in this very cell only a week ago and he wasn’t too happy about being back. What the hell was happening to him? Accused twice in one week of murder when all he wanted to do was get on with his life.

It would be okay. He had faith in Luz’s abilities, and she was on his side and pushing hard for him. Memories of the previous night seeped into his thoughts and he smiled remembering the water fight in the kitchen. How he longed to hold her that close again.

But he would have to wait until his innocence was proven and he was let free. Even then, he would have to wait because he wanted to get his life in order again. He couldn’t possibly offer Luz anything if he didn’t take charge of his situation, and he wanted to be able to give their budding relationship a chance.

His thoughts drifted to his late wife. What he and Leah shared was special. She truly was his everything up until the day she was so brutally taken from him. There was a time he thought he’d never find happiness again, but Luz was slowly showing him there was still plenty of life worth living.

He would not mess up this time.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I’ve grown reckless, careless and unafraid

Of the bloody mess of death I’ve made

No fear of discovery haunts my mind

I’m running the board and they’re running blind.

May 25th, 2002 12:14 p.m.

The young woman sat in the shade of the trees, reading over a stack of papers, her pencil poised over the paper.

She stared as Luz covered the last of the distance between them. The young woman set aside her paper and waited for Luz to stop.

“Chloe James?” Luz asked, holding out her badge.

“Yes?” Chloe answered cautiously.

“I’m Detective Santos with the Seattle Police Department. I have a couple of questions I need to ask you.”

The young woman quickly put her books to the side and perked up. “Is this about those murders downtown? Because I have a few theories on why the killer is targeting homeless people. It all begins when they are young, about three or four years of age the human mind is most susceptible to—”

Luz cut her off. “I’m not interested in your psycho-babble. I’m not here about the murders. I came here to ask you about your parents.”

Chloe pouted and refused to talk to Luz until she got an apology, and Luz threatened to arrest Chloe for interfering in a police investigation, then got down to business. “One of your father’s old clients can’t seem to locate your father. This man hasn’t spoken with your father in seven years, but he left him in charge of a very substantial amount of money. Money he would like back. Now if you could just tell me where I can find him, we could talk this out.”

The young woman’s face grew blank and Luz allowed the girl time to think. She scanned all the books that surrounded Chloe, all related in one way or another to psychology. The girl was serious about her studies.

“Does my father owe this man money?” she asked slowly.

“No, nothing like that. My client left your parents with money for safekeeping. Now that he’s back he would just like to check on his funds.”

Chloe was silent for a moment then scribbled something on a sheet of notebook paper. She hesitated for a minute before she handed Luz the paper. Luz took it and read; it was her father’s name followed by a phone number. Luz looked up at the girl and smiled.

“Thank you so much, Miss James. This will really help.” She shoved the paper into her pocket.

“I hope you aren’t lying to me about why you need to speak with my father. I’m trusting you, Detective Santos,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it. We just need to speak with him,” Luz said turning to leave. “Oh yeah, we just may need your help on the case. A fresh point of view is welcome in our line of work. Can I contact you?”

Chloe’s face lit up and she quickly scribbled on another sheet of paper. “Sure. Here’s my number and dorm number. Call or visit. Or I could come down to the station. I’m a psych major and think I could help you profile suspects and such. Just let me know.” Chloe eagerly handed over her information.

Luz took the second slip of paper and smiled. “Your assistance is appreciated, Chloe. Thank you.” She walked back down the grass hill and along the path to her car. She got on the radio and called Eddie.

“Is she getting up?” she asked softly, not wanting her voice to carry too far.

The radio burped back. “Yeah, she’s packing up her books now. I’ll tail her until she gets to a phone then I’m gone.”

“Good.” Luz hung up the radio and picked up her cell phone. She dialed the number for Fredrick James and waited for someone to pick up.

“Mayor Yates’s office, how may I direct your call?” answered a voice on the other line.

Luz was confused. “Mayor’s office?”

“Yes, how may I direct your call?” the woman asked again, clearly annoyed.

“Um… Fredrick James, please,” Luz requested. She wasn’t sure how the two men were connected but was happy Chloe had given her solid information.

“One moment.”

Luz exhaled loudly when she was put on hold. She didn’t have to wait long for the receptionist to pick back up.

“I’m sorry, Mr. James is on a call. Would you like to leave a message?”

Luz left her name and number but left out her title for the sake of gossip, then she hung up and waited. After a few more minutes the radio chirped, and she picked it up.

“Go ahead.”

“You were right. She called her dad right away, told him about your visit and now she’s heading back to the dorms.”

“Thanks, Eddie. Mr. James works for the city council now. Let’s go pay him a visit.”

“Meet me at the north parking lot, see you in five.” He cut off and Luz turned on her car and drove away, confused, but intrigued.

May 25th, 2002 1:50 pm

Eddie and Luz arrived at city hall and rode the elevator to the mayor’s office on the twelfth floor. The receptionist told them that the mayor wouldn’t be available for another hour, so Luz asked instead to speak with Fredrick James. She dialed his office to announce their arrival and after a few minutes he met them in the foyer.

Fredrick was five feet, seven inches tall, small for the average man, and looked about twenty pounds overweight. He had red hair, pale skin and freckles dotted his face giving him a Tom Sawyer look. If it hadn’t been for his age and his receding hairline, the man could have pulled it off. He wore a wrinkled suit and scuffed shoes.

“Detective,” he said looking at Luz carefully. His eyes slid down to her legs and back up to her face, then to her breasts. Then he smiled and held out his arm. “What can I do for you today?”

Repulsed, Luz briefly shook his sweaty hand, resisting the urge to wipe her palm on her pants afterwards. “Mr. James, I’m sure your daughter called to tell you we were trying to locate you. If we could just go to your office I’d be happy to discuss the matter,” she said, gesturing toward the direction he’d come from.

He stared at her for a moment and then at Eddie. Something close to fear crossed the man’s face but he replaced it with a smile and beckoned them to follow him. Luz saw that the receptionist was shooting disgusted looks at Fredrick’s back. It seemed Luz wasn’t the only one who got the sleazy treatment from that man.

They followed him to a corner office on the west side of the building facing the water. From what Luz could see from the doorway, the view was spectacular.

“Mr. James, what is your title here?” Luz asked.

He followed her eyes out the window and cleared his throat. “I work as the assistant to the city solicitor, Bob Ackers, who serves as legal counsel to the mayor, city council and city administrative team. I used to work for a firm downtown. I was an attorney, a damn good one, I might add.” He puffed out his chest a little with the admission. “Graduated from Harvard back in sixty-seven, tenth in my class, pretty good, considering the woman who graduated first currently works for NASA,” he said, taking a seat behind his desk.

It was the longest answer to a question she’d heard in a while. Not only had he stated his title but he managed to ramble on about his past, sound bitter, and proud all in the same sentence. In short, he was babbling.

She took a seat in the vacant chair across from the desk and Eddie sat by the door. The office was sparsely decorated. There were a few plaques and certificates on the wall accompanied by a diploma from Harvard. There were also photos of James with important city officials all wearing the same worn-out grin. On his desk were pictures of him and his daughter with an attractive older woman Luz assumed was his wife. Chloe had been lucky and inherited most of her mother’s features. Clearly, she had her father’s eating habits. The girl she had spoken with on campus was a little on the pudgy side but with the academic knowledge and determination Chloe had shown, Luz knew that physical traits weren’t important to a girl like that. It was the psychological patterns of the mind that intrigued her.

Luz found Fredrick James to be a bit out of place in the large office. Someone of his stature on the mayor’s staff shouldn’t have been on the same floor as the mayor, let alone in a giant corner office with its own view of Puget Sound.

“Now, what is it you came to talk to me about Miss…”

“Santos, Detective Santos. I work homicide for the Seattle Police department, and this is Officer Lopez. He’s with me today for observation purposes only. Shall we begin?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said reaching up to smooth his right eyebrow.

“Do you know a man named Nicholas Mason?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” he stated quickly.

“You don’t?” Luz asked.

“Hmm,” he said and smoothed his eyebrow again. “Nicholas Mason. The name sounds familiar, but I’m not sure I can place it.”

Luz looked at Eddie, but Eddie’s eyes never left Fredrick’s face. Luz pulled a file out of her bag, opened it and read silently. After a few moments she looked up at the man seated across from her.

“So you’re telling me that you’re holding over nine-hundred thousand dollars and over 1.4 million dollars’ worth of assets for a Nicholas Mason and his name doesn’t ring a bell?” she asked, closing the file and setting it on her lap.

Fredrick looked shocked for a moment. Then he clasped his hands together and held them tightly, his knuckles white from the pressure. After taking a few gulps of air he brought his hand up to his right eyebrow once more. The action was starting to irritate Luz.

“Well?” she asked, looking at her watch.

He smiled then gasped loudly. “Oh, yes! I remember Nicky. We never called him by his full name. Of course, of course,” he nodded vigorously. “I haven’t seen him in years. How is he? Is he in trouble?”

Luz sidestepped the question. Nick hadn’t wanted Fredrick to know too much until they found out what happened to his funds and property. “How much exactly were you asked to hold, including stocks and bonds, as well as property, Mr. James?”

“I have the information at home. I’ll have to review it and get back to you on that, Ms. Santa.”

“Santos, Detective Santos, if you please,” she corrected. She’d had enough with the mispronunciations that week. “And a rough estimate will do. I trust you’re using an accountant to help track the interest?”

“I’d say about 2.9 million, which included Leah’s life insurance. The house in Kirkland was about one million, the houseboat was about three hundred-thou, and Nick’s cars together sold for about a hundred twenty thousand. The rest went into storage. My wife works for a credit union and has been monitoring his stocks.”

“How much would he be worth now? Everything included. Give us a full, round figure, Mr. James,” Eddie ordered. It was the first time he had spoken. Fredrick frowned and reached up to smooth his eyebrow again.

“Well, I’d say…” he opened his desk drawer and removed a calculator, but Luz had a hard time believing that he needed it. “Roughly five-million dollars… give or take.”

But was he giving or taking? thought Luz.

Eddie whistled low and shook his head. “And he trusted you to watch all of that? You two must’ve been tight, like brothers. I know I wouldn’t trust anyone outside of my family with that kind of money. Hell, I might not trust my own brother with that much money.” He chuckled, then dropped back into serious mode.

Fredrick nodded slowly, and Luz took advantage of his silence. “What was your relationship with Mr. Mason?” she asked.

“Was? Is he dead? What happened, detective?” he asked but Luz detected a stale note to his voice that sounded vaguely like relief.

“Sir, would you answer my question, please?”

Fredrick blinked and rubbed his head. “Nick and I—” he began.

“Don’t you mean ‘Nicky?’” Eddie asked.

“Well… yes… Nicky.” He gave them a weak smile. He stood and went to the window looking out over the waterfront before taking a deep breath. “Nicky knew my wife, Candace, in high school. They even dated a little junior and senior year. But they had known each other since the fourth grade. They grew up on the same block and were neighbors for years. both their parents knew each other and their parents, you get the point.” Luz and Eddie nodded, and Fredrick went on.

“I met Candace in college and we hit it off, and after a few years we decided to get married. She always spoke well of Nicky all through college and I had met him a few times. After graduation, Candace had talked him into getting me a job downtown. As young as he was Nick… er… Nicky had proven himself valuable to the powers that be and had great influence over the decisions to hire. It wasn’t much at first, low profile cases, some pro bono work, but it was something and I appreciated it.”

“Your wife spoke of him often, and there was no jealously on your part? You two just became buddies?” Eddie asked.

“Well… yeah… something like that. I mean, at first, I thought I couldn’t compete with this man my wife put on a pedestal but after meeting him and seeing them together I could tell there were no romantic feelings between them—only friendship bred from years of familiarity and history. Mason was a top-notch attorney. He made a lot of money and was a very busy man. We had lunch and had him over to dinner once in a while. We went to his wedding. I’ll tell you I’ve never seen two people more in love.” He stopped and seemed to reminisce.

Impatient and annoyed, Luz turned her attention to Fredrick. “Mr. James, can we jump to the part where Mr. Mason asked you to control all of his money and estate?”

Fredrick stared at her blankly for a moment and leaned back in his chair as if he were relaxed, but his tense body belied the image he projected.

“In the summer of ninety-four Leah, Nicky’s wife was murdered on their houseboat while we partied it up downtown. Nick had won a really big case. Somehow, Anthony Yates was tied into the whole thing, but obviously he wasn’t convicted, as he is now mayor and my boss.” He laughed, and his hand shot toward his eyebrow, but he stopped mid-gesture and placed his hand back in his lap.

Luz stood and paced the room. “So Mason becomes obsessed with putting Yates away and when he failed he just… disappeared?”

Fredrick nodded emphatically, reminding her of a bobblehead doll. “Yes, that’s pretty much how it happened. The day of the trial he came to us, he was cool and calm, and we knew the shock had numbed him completely. We tried to talk him out of it, but he had all the paperwork filled out and ready to be signed and filed away. Power of Attorney and things like that. He wouldn’t tell us where he was going or when he would be back. All he wanted was for us to take temporary control of his things. His last wish was that Leah’s money and possessions not be touched.”

“Even her car?” asked Eddie.

Fredrick looked from Eddie to Luz and back again. “What?” he asked.

“Her car. Her Honda. What happened to it?” Eddie asked again.

Silence filled the office and Fredrick jumped up like he’d been shocked. “Oh. Yes, the Honda! She could be so stubborn about that car. Nick drove a Mercedes, wanted her to have one as well but she’d had that Honda since college and wouldn’t let it go.” He chuckled to himself and looked up at them. “It was stolen.”

“The Honda was stolen?” Luz asked. “When did this happen? Did you file a police report?”

“The car was kept in a storage garage. It was the cheapest place we could find to store it. The owner assured us it was safe. Then, three years ago, someone broke in and stole it. The guy, Emmanuel, I think his name was, told us he called the police and filed a report, and then refunded us the rest of our deposit and sent us on our way. We were never told if the car was found. I know it would devastate Nicky if he found out Leah’s car was gone.”

“That’s it? You never looked into it?” Luz asked.

“Candace and I were unsure what to do. Emmanuel never called us. So Candace began a fund in Leah’s name. The proceeds go to the families and friends of murder victims, to help them, you know, cope with the pain. The Leah Mason Fund, it was called. I have all the paperwork at home.” He shrugged. “I would be happy to have a copy couriered to you after the long weekend first thing Tuesday morning,” he added hastily.

“Please do,” Luz said, gathering her briefcase and coat. Eddie rose and headed towards the door. Luz reached over the desk to shake Fredrick’s hand, which was cold and clammy. She pulled herself from that grotesque grip as soon as she could and wiped her palm on her coat, trying to piece together why this man was so nervous. They opened the door to leave and, unable to contain himself any longer, Fredrick blurted out; “Is he alive?”

Luz turned to look at the man and said nothing. She let the silence drag out until she saw beads of sweat pop and glisten on the man’s forehead again, then she left, closing the door behind her. The last thing she saw was his hand fly up to his right eyebrow. Good, she thought, he’ll have something to wipe away this time.

May 25th, 2002 3:00 p.m.

“Shifty little shit, isn’t he?” Eddie asked as they got into the car.

Luz groaned. “Yes. He’s hiding something but I’m not sure if it has anything to do with this case. Don’t you find it peculiar that a man of his… stature holds such a prominent job at the mayor’s office? I’m going to run his credentials to see how the hell he ended up there. I want you to check out the car story, see if you can locate that police report. In the meantime, we’ll have to wait until he sends me more information.”

Eddie was silent for a moment and then spoke up. “His daughter, Cooley—”

“Chloe,” Luz corrected.

“Whatever, anyway, when we checked on her we found that she didn’t go to college on a scholarship. Actually, she used to be a pretty troubled kid, she’s got an MIP on her record.”

“What’s your point? Hasn’t every other kid gotten booked with a possession charge in their teens?” Luz demanded.

Eddie sighed. “My point is, how does someone like her afford four years plus at the U when her parents barely had enough money to pay the mortgage on their house?”

Luz thought about that. “You may be on to something, Sherlock,” she teased.

“Elementary, my dear Santos, elementary,” he replied and laughed

“Fuck elementary, we have a lot to do. Shit, we’ve got all these trails leading nowhere. Every time we get something new, it turns us in another direction. It’s driving me crazy,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

Eddie put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Santos. Mason will be fine. He can use his time to think about how lucky he is that he snagged you.”

Whether he was reading her mind or making a guess, Luz was grateful Eddie was on her side regarding Nick. If only she could convince her boss to do the same.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I realize now I’ve lost control

My taking of lives has taken a toll

My mind and body are beginning to fail

But I refuse to become soft, lost or frail

May 25th, 2002 6:20 p.m.

“So much for Memorial Day weekend.” Mike shook his head and looked across the desk at his top detective.

“Come on, Mike, I know you can authorize his release,” Luz huffed.

“Dammit, Santos, can’t you see this is for your own good? If he turns out to be involved with the killer, you could be in danger. I don’t want to risk that.”

Luz stood and leaned over the desk. “We’ve been through this, Mike. I don’t need a babysitter. Nick’s innocent, and I’ll prove it.”

“And when you do, I will release him,” Mike said.

“Dammit! Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?” she said and resigned herself to the visitor’s chair.

“Does this have anything to do with your feelings for him because if it does—”

“It doesn’t,” she said flatly.

“Then you can’t let that affect your job performance. If this were any other Tom, Dick or Harry, you wouldn’t be pushing this hard and we both know it.”

Luz stood up and went to the door. “Listen, Mike, you’ve always told me to listen to my gut and for years, it’s never failed me. I’ve interviewed many suspects and I’ve conquered the art of interrogation, so I know the good guys from the bad guys and Nicholas Mason is not a bad guy. His story rings true,” Luz said. Mike started to speak, but she held up her hand to silence him.

“I’m not finished. I know you may think that because I’m a woman I’m more emotional about this than let’s say that asshole Harris, or even Lopez, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve viewed this case from an emotionally detached point of view, by the facts only and even though Nick’s name has come up many times, there’s been no strong proof that he’s linked to the murders. Just go with me on this, will you?” she asked.

Mike put his head in his hands and exhaled loudly then he pulled out his wrinkled pack of Marlboros and lit one. He took a couple drags before he spoke, letting the smoke wisp out slowly while he weighed his options.

“Santos, if you make me regret this, you’re out of a job. Are you willing to stake your career on this man?” he asked, his eyes boring into her.

Luz’s eyes didn’t waver. “Yes, Mike, I am.”

“Shit, then you got it worse than I thought,” he said, putting his cigarette out in an old cup of coffee on his desk.

“Got what?” Luz asked sharply.

“Nevermind, I’ll call down and get your boy out. He’s to stay with you at all times. I don’t think it will be a problem for you. Watch yourself, Luz. I don’t want you hurt again, and I meant what I said about your job being on the line,” he threatened but the fight seemed to have gone out of him.

“Thanks, Mike. I owe you big time,” she said leaving the office. She rode the elevators downstairs and cleared the release with the guard on duty. As she walked to Nick’s cell, she wondered if she’d been right to push his release. All she had been doing to Mike lately was pushing him. In one week their professional relationship had changed. She hoped it was for the better. Mike wasn’t only a good guy but a great boss and a greater mentor.

When she reached Nick’s holding cell and saw his hopeful face, she forgot all about Mike’s opinion of her.

“Come on, Nick, let’s celebrate.” She unlocked the door.

7:00 p.m.

Nick and Luz ended up at the Seattle Center for the annual Folklife Festival. There was food from around the world as well as dancing, music, theater, vendors and booths. They started off at a Filipino food stand and ordered barbeque pork on skewers and washed it down with fresh squeezed lemonade. They saw street performers, families having picnics on the grass and groups of teenagers hanging out listening to the live bands.

Luz insisted they go to the main stage where one of her favorite Salsa bands was playing their set. They listened for a while and Luz decided to get up and join the crowd to dance. Nick watched her sway to and fro, her hips moving with the beat flawlessly. It was mesmerizing and somewhat arousing. The woman was quickly becoming important to him. He was surprised that the thought came with none of the usual guilt he was so used to feeling. He was finally healing, and it felt good. Even more so, it felt right.

Luz danced her way back to him and took ahold of his hand. “Come on!” she shouted above the noise with a huge smile on her face.

Nick wasn’t sure how much he remembered from the salsa class he’d taken in his youth, but Luz was aglow, and her energy was infectious. She led him back to where she danced before, and he grabbed her hips began to dance.

“Wow! You dance well for a gringo!” she shouted over the music

“I’m not sure if that is a compliment,” he shouted back and took her hand and spun her around. They came chest to chest and began moving together step to step. Their proximity only proved to heighten his already strong attraction to her.

“It is,” Luz replied and clung to his shoulders. They continued to spin and turn until the song finally ended. They panted heavily as they clapped with the crowd, then decided to take a walk.

They strolled toward the north entrance. The farther they went from the festival, the less populated the walkways became.

“It’s getting late,” Luz said, staring up at the sky. The clouds were wispy, and the air was humid, but she could almost smell the oncoming of rain.

“Did you want to leave?” Nick asked.

“Oh no, my week has been way too hard, I deserve this,” she replied. He stopped and wrapped his arms around her pulling her close.

“Luz—” he began.

“Elephant ears!” Luz screamed.

Nick looked around, expecting to see an elephant stomping through the crowd. “Wh-what?” he asked, and she grabbed his hand and pulled him to a booth. The smell of cinnamon drifted from the small tent. She ordered and the man behind the counter handed her something warm wrapped in wax paper. Luz paid him then found a seat on the grass. Nick sat beside her and waited for her to tell him what she’d bought. She opened up the wax paper to reveal a large piece of fried dough coated in butter with cinnamon and sugar.

“This is an elephant ear. In Mexico, we call them churritos but here they serve them long and flat like this so that they resemble the ears of an elephant,” she said tearing off a piece and handing it to Nick before popping a piece into her mouth and moaning with pleasure.

Upon seeing her reaction Nick popped the piece of dough in his mouth and began chewing. It was warm and melted in his mouth. It was a bit too sweet, but it tasted wonderful.

“So what do you think?” she raised her eyebrows. “I know it’s a lot of sugar. Every mother’s worst nightmare, but it’s worth it, que no?”

Nick swallowed, tore off a big piece and shoved it at Luz. He noticed too late that the piece was massive and watched with intrigue as she opened her mouth and bit off about as much as she could fit.

“Now that your mouth is full I want you to listen,” Nick began. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “Luz, I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I don’t know what I would do if I had to sleep one more night in that cell. But I also want to thank you for believing in me. It’s forced me to take a good look at myself and change who I was before it was too late. Thank you for giving me my life back.”

Luz finished chewing then she slugged him hard on the shoulder. “That wasn’t very nice!” she scolded. “I could have choked and all because you wanted center stage.”

Nick laughed. “I knew you’d forgive me.” He reached up and wiped some sugar off her cheek.

She laughed but stopped when she spotted something over his shoulder. Nick turned following her line of sight and saw Officer Lopez headed their way. He was never comfortable around the man. It had a lot to do with the way they kept running into each other under unfortunate circumstances. But he could see that Luz held some affection for the guy, so Nick decided he could tolerate the officer a little longer.

Eddie reached them and smiled at Luz. “Hola senorita.” He turned to Nick and held out his hand. “Hey, Nick. Sorry about before, police procedure and all…” Eddie trailed off.

Nick shook his hand and nodded. “I know all about police procedure. I know you weren’t to blame. Don’t worry—I don’t hold grudges.”

He was grateful that Luz didn’t mention his seven-year grudge against Anthony Yates. She seemed pleased that he and Eddie were getting along.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Eddie, who was in uniform.

“Mike wanted to bump up security for the festival. Homeless people from all over town flock here whether it’s to dance, sing, eat food that’s left sitting out or beg for money. Either way, we need to patrol the whole area all weekend. It’s easy pickings for this killer and we’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Most of the passersby were families and couples but they spotted a few bums wandering around alone. One homeless man sat with a cardboard sign asking for money or food.

“This is going to be a long night,” Eddie said, turning back to them. “But I’m sure you two wouldn’t mind a long night.”

Luz gave him a withering look. “Eddie…” she began.

“Okay, okay I’m going. You two be careful. By the way, Luz, I ran a check on local garages in the area. Emmanuel Altek works at Benny’s down south. He wasn’t working today but was lucky enough to have to worked on Memorial Day.”

Luz placed her hands over her ears and hummed loudly. Both Eddie and Nick laughed, and Eddie backed off. “All right no talk about work. Enjoy yourselves and I’ll call you, Luz.”

Luz stopped humming and waved goodbye, then leaned back on the grass and watched the sky get darker in the north. “Looks like rain.”

“Nah, it should pass by and miss us. Too far to the north,” Nick said.

“Oh yeah, don’t tell me you used to be a weatherman too,” she joked.

“No, but my uncle used to take me sailing. He taught me to watch the weather closely for signs of storms.”

“Wow, a man of many traits. How ever did I get so lucky?” she said in a southern belle accent, causing him to chuckle.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” he looked at her with genuine adoration, then added; “So, what’s the story with you and Eddie?”

Luz stopped smiling and slapped him roughly on the arm. “Hey, I only got to know him this last week. He’s helped me on the case from the beginning. He was open with me about his crush and I made it clear that I didn’t return his feelings. Now we’re good friends and plan to keep it that way. But it was sweet and nosey of you to ask.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being intrusive.”

“Nick, I haven’t dated anyone for two years.” She lay back down on the grass.

Nick was about to plant a kiss on her cheek when he paused and looked into the distance. He leaned over and whispered in Luz’s ear.

“Don’t look but there’s a man sitting across the way there and I think he’s been following us for a while.”

“Why do you say that? Roll over. I need to see him,” she said kissing him and laughing. Nick was surprised how at ease she seemed even though she knew they could be in danger. With Nick on his back she pretended to kiss his neck, trying to spot the man he spoke of.

“The one with the blue sweatshirt and funny hat?” she whispered, staring through the strands of her long hair.

“He sees me staring, he’s up and moving toward the crowd, he’s not looking back. Let’s go.” Nick had to run to catch up with Luz, and together they tracked the dark hat among the crowd of people.

“Still see him?”

“Barely. He’s moving fast. I think he knows we’re following him,” she said, picking up speed. They walked faster, passing the dome-shaped fountain in the middle of the center. Children screamed and ran in the water while parents watched from afar, preferring to stay dry.

Mimes, petitioners and vendors walked in their path. The crowd grew thicker and Nick could tell Luz’s patience was wearing thin. A few steps past the kiddie rides, and he was gone.

“Shit! Shit. Shit. Shit. We lost him,” Luz cursed.

~

Luz pulled out her phone to call Eddie and quickly filled him in on the man and the chase. He asked her to meet him back on the north end of the center, but he didn’t sound happy.

It took them ten minutes to trek back to where Eddie was. He stood next to a body covered with a white sheet. Leroy was taping off the area and people were herded from the scene.

“What happened?” Luz asked, deflated.

“Our guy strikes again. I was patrolling this area and I heard a scream. That woman,” he paused and pointed to a small booth where a woman packed up her hippie-style shirts and skirts and glanced uneasily about. “She found the body. She said he’d been wandering by her booth all day and about an hour ago he decided to camp out on the stump over there. The guy is, well, was homeless, and he sat down with a sign reading WILL DANCE FOR FOOD. After he sat down, this woman gets nervous, says she doesn’t trust bums, says they steal things from her cart every year, so she asked him to leave but all he did was shake his head and grunt. She didn’t see him dance all day. After that, she left him alone. Apparently, her booth got busy. So it comes time for these vendors to start packing up and she sees him still sitting here. She also sees one of the bracelets from her stand around his wrist. So she marches over here to ask him where he got it. Well, the guy doesn’t answer so she kicks his sign and he falls over. That’s when she noticed he was dead.”

Eddie pulled up the sheet. The old man had white hair with a matching beard, looking almost like Santa Claus. But Santa never wore sunglasses with a worn-out army coat over torn-up jeans and old galoshes.

“This is getting ridiculous. If we don’t find who’s doing this, we’ll all be out of a job with a pile of bodies to show for it,” Luz said, her face on fire.

“There’s a job opening at the morgue, Litebrite,” Ben said walking up to the body. “But that’s not your thing, is it?” He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. Luz looked at Eddie who was watching Nick, but Nick didn’t so much as flinch when Ben bent down and gave Luz a peck on the cheek.

“You’re in a good mood for just having been called to a murder scene,” she said, pulling away. She could only imagine what Nick thought of the familiarity between her and her ex.

“It’s been a good day. Until now, of course,” Ben said, pulling on his latex gloves and kneeling beside the body. He placed and ran a finger along the gash in the neck.

“Same kind of knife, but this gash is messier than the previous few I’ve seen.” He made some notes on his pad before continuing his preliminary exam of the body.

“Which means the killer is either losing his touch or blowing off some serious steam,” Luz speculated and added, “We were just trying to question a guy who was watching us. It was probably him.”

“Well something’s going on. Could be a new knife, but he went from killing once a month to once a week to once a day, then twice a day and now this. The morgue’s never been this busy. I had to call in Severson from Stevens to help.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. “This is the first body we’ve seen today.” Even as Eddie finished his sentence his radio chirped, and he picked up the call. When he hung up his face was pale. “Luz, they found three more bodies around the park. Mike’s notifying the Director of Northwest Folklife and the Center’s facilities director. We’re shutting down the festival until the bodies are examined and the scenes processed.”

Luz kissed her weekend goodbye and pulled out her cell phone. She called Mike, who was busy, and said he’d call back in a minute. So she called Sonny at the office.

“We got bodies everywhere. Did you follow Antoinette?”

“Yup, she’s in Hawaii. She and hubby drove to Sea-Tac this morning and hopped on a plane.”

“Damn!”

“I know you were hoping she would be the woman you were looking for but it’s not her. Sorry, Luz. Can’t win ’em all.”

“Thanks, Einstein.”

“Whoa, hold on there. I’ve got other news. After carefully draining the car found in the lake, we found some brown hair on the seats and floors. Now we’re just getting started on it. I’ll call you with the results as soon as I have them.”

“Thanks Sonny.” Luz hung up and thought about the man they were chasing. He had brown hair. Her phone rang again, and she picked it up. It was Mike.

“Yeah, Santos, it’s a fucking circus out here. Wrap up there and come down to the south entrance. The press is here, and I need some help until the mayor’s press conference. Shit, this is going to look bad on my resume if we don’t find this psycho.”

“Ben says there’s an opening at the morgue.”

“That’s sick, Santos.”

“Hey, keep your options open. If we don’t close this case, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Yeah but apparently, they can be murder vics. See you in ten.”

She hung up and closed her eyes. When she reopened them, Nick was staring at her with obvious concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine when this is all over. Let’s go.” She began walking away but quickly walked back to the body and tapped Ben on the shoulder.

“Hey, who quit at the morgue?” she asked him.

“Me.” He smiled. “It seems I had a long-lost uncle. I didn’t know him, but he knew me and left a pretty big inheritance.”

“How big?”

“Let’s just say, by this time next month, I’ll never have to work again. Isn’t life great?”

Luz snorted and shook her head. “Tell that to the guy under the sheet,” she said and walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The walls of my mind are closing in

A pressure born from all my sins

Now I loathe the smell of blood

I would stop this madness if I could

May 25th, 2002 10:59 p.m.

The dreams are killing me inside. The dreams make me kill. I’ve just woken, and my stomach is tied in knots. I must not get sick this time. If I get sick, I itch. I must clear my mind. The sign said no swimming. How did they find the car? I’ve made too many mistakes. The police are getting closer.

The feeling of superiority comes and goes but I no longer think myself invincible. I’ve gone from being the hunter to the hunted and back again. The power is like a high but the vulnerability that follows is unbearable.

Goddamn my mother! All I wanted was a normal life and the bitch couldn’t give it to me. Now look at me. Look at what I’ve become—and all because of her.

I shake my head. She doesn’t deserve all the blame. I’ve lost control of myself, and I’ve lost control of the need.

I walk into the bathroom. The smell of disinfectant makes me nauseous, but I refuse to vomit. I must find a way to get well quickly. Once I regain control, I can resume killing at will. Instead of a curse, the murders will become a pleasure once again; a hobby, even.

Catching my reflection in the mirror, I jump. I barely recognize myself. My hair is matted and there are bags under my eyes. I wonder how much longer I can keep this up. It’s a huge strain, physically and mentally, to focus on my daily life when the burning inside me never subsides; a constant longing for death that grows with every passing day.

A vision from my dream floats through my mind. My body surrenders, and I retch into the sink, unable to stop. I hear my cell phone ring in the other room, but I cannot move. I’m paralyzed with sickness. For a moment I wonder why I’m not afraid, with all the lives I’ve taken, with all the witnesses around, and with all the loose ends. I should be falling apart.

Then I remember seven years ago when Leah Mason died by my hand and the retching stops. Looking at my face in the mirror, I catch a smile forming on my lips. It had to be done. She would have ruined my life. She would have thrown me back from whence I came. But I wouldn’t go back. I won’t go back, ever, no matter the cost.

With that last thought my body shudders and I know what is next. I quickly turn on the shower and set the temperature to blistering hot. Shedding my robe, I step in and scream as the water scalds my skin. The painful sensation is both inviting and agonizing. Surely, I will have second-degree burns. But it relieves the itching. Sobbing, I give myself over to the pain and the itch is soon forgotten.

May 26th, 2002 7:45 a.m.

Cliff Saunders rubbed his eyes and turned off his laptop. He feared the killer could somehow link into his home PC and track his movements, so he brought a laptop home to work on his investigation.

He’d been up all night and his mind was fried, even if he could track that email address back to the owner, how would he get a message to the police? Assuming, of course, that he could track it, why would the killer continue using it? Any and all links to the emails could have been destroyed. The two years he had attended at ITT Technical Institute had taught him that much. Unless the killer wasn’t knowledgeable in computer systems. Was that why he had been threatened, so the killer could buy time to figure it all out, or hire someone to do it for him?

That thought stuck in his mind as Cliff turned the laptop back on, beginning to work once more. Elizabeth had come into his office around six to check on him, wondering why he hadn’t come to bed. Instead of telling her about the note left by the killer, he told her he had a big project at work. With that explanation he was left alone for the weekend, but he knew she was getting restless with the lack of time he was spending with her and the kids.

What she didn’t know was that the sacrifice would pay off if it meant that the man who violated their home and threatened them with death could be found and put away for life, leaving them safe from harm.

He rubbed his eyes again and refilled his coffee mug. He went back to work and would continue working until he found answers. Even if he hit a dead end, at least he’d know he’d done all he could to save his family. Looking at the laptop screen he wiped the tears forming at the corners of his eyes and resumed his search.

May 26th, 2002 8:10 a.m.

Luz woke slowly, her eyes taking in the details, the light filtering through the curtains of her bedroom window, the sound of the water lapping against the hull of the boat, and the unmistakable scent of bacon wafted to her nose. She inhaled deeply and smiled.

She had so many conflicting feelings when it came to Nick. Sure, they got along, had a lot in common—but there was a small voice in the back of her mind that warned his feelings for her might stem from the unconventional way they met. It was the way he was always thanking her for saving him. She could tell he was grateful for the second chance at life but how could she be sure he liked her for the right reasons? These doubts had nagged at her for days but as a cop she felt she could rely on her intuition and her gut told her he was a good guy.

She would still take things slow. The man came with a lot of emotional baggage and she wanted to be sure she gave him enough time and space to work through his ghosts. She could use that time to sort out her own feelings about him. After processing the scene at the festival, they had come back to her place for the night. She had been worried about how he would deal with her boat, but there had been no hesitation when she invited him in. She took that to mean he was making progress with his trauma. The thought made her smile.

Neither had been talkative after the grisly things they had witnessed and agreed that sleep was the best option—him sleeping on the couch and Luz in her own room. She didn’t remember anything after her head hit the pillow. All the events of the previous week caught up with her and she quickly fell asleep.

Her stomach growled, interrupting her thoughts. She got up, grinning, and went straight for the bathroom to make herself presentable. Her reflection was less than impressive so she pulled out a brush and dragged it through her hair. After pulling it back with a claw clip she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Surveying herself again she noticed the dark circles under her eyes. There was no helping those. This case was taking its toll and it was bound to show on her one way or the other, but it was unflattering nonetheless. At least her wound was only a minor annoyance at that point.

She grabbed her robe and strolled to the other side of the boat where the scent of bacon, eggs and onions was the strongest. She walked into the kitchen and Nick looked up from the stove and frowned.

“You ruined the surprise. Go back to bed,” he ordered pointing her in the direction of the bedroom.

“I’m still surprised. Besides, I have to work today. Better sooner than later.”

“Oh. Well, I was just finishing up my famous omelets de Nick.”

Luz walked over and saw the eggs cooking along with peppers, mushrooms and bits of bacon. “A man of many talents. I’m impressed. But where did all this food come from? The last time I went grocery shopping was before the case.”

“I took the liberty of running out and stocking your fridge for you.”

A frown creased her face. “Nick, what happened yesterday has clearly taken you off the list of suspects, but you need to be careful. There’s a killer out there and I’m in his crosshairs. I’d hate for anything bad to happen to you.

Nick raised his hands in surrender. “I’m really sorry Luz, this is all new to me. For seven years I went where I wanted, when I wanted without needing to check in with anyone.” He flipped the omelet once more, placed it on a plate and sprinkled it with cheese. “Go sit down. I’m just about done.” He put the plates on the table where he had already cut some fresh cantaloupe and apples. He poured each of them some coffee and sat down. They ate in silence except for the groans of satisfaction that came from Luz every time she took a bite of the omelet.

“If you don’t keep it down, I’m going to need a cold shower,” Nick teased while he sipped his coffee.

“Sorry, it’s just… this is so delicious. I’m not spoiled like this too often. Who am I kidding? I’m not spoiled like this at all,” she said taking another bite.

Nick smiled at her, “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“What else? Murder”

After breakfast, Nick helped her clean up and they got ready to go. It was nearing nine-thirty and she knew Mike and the team would be waiting for her at work.

“I’ll be back around three,” she said.

“Why don’t I come with you?” he asked, tying his shoes.

“Not today. I don’t need any distractions,” she said pointing her finger at his chest. “And you, sir, are a distraction.”

He smiled down at her. “Fine, but if you’re not back by three, I’m coming to get you.” He leaned down to kiss her nose. They embraced for a while longer, not wanting to separate, but it was Nick who finally pulled away.

“Go to work. I’ll stay here and keep Cheech company.”

She looked around for her dog and found him sleeping under the window next to the bed. She patted him goodbye. Cheech lifted his head and licked her hand. “Poor baby, I’m never home to walk you anymore, am I? Nick’s gonna walk you today, okay boy?” she asked. and Cheech wagged his tail. She stood up. “I think you made a friend. There’s a trail that runs behind the marina. Feel free to walk him whenever you want. He hates being cooped up on the boat, so he’d be grateful.” She kissed Nick once more and grabbed her coat. “See ya,” she said.

May 26th, 2002 10:00 a.m.

“Santa, Mike wants you upstairs pronto,” Rosa snapped as Luz got off the elevator. Bitch, thought Luz, but she smiled at Rosa and thanked her, leaving the woman confused once more. Luz wasn’t going to let Rampage Rosa ruin her day. She never understood why Mike kept Rosa around. Hell of an admin, sure, but she made everyone’s life miserable. Lately she was downright hostile, glaring at Luz whenever they crossed paths. If Rosa didn’t improve her attitude Luz was going to talk to Mike about it… again. Rolling her shoulders back, Luz shook off the bad mojo. Maybe things hadn’t worked out with Eddie and Rosa was a woman scorned. Not that it mattered—Luz wasn’t going to make that her problem.

She rode the elevators and got out, heading directly to the Storm Room. When she opened the door, all eyes turned to her. Mike, Sonny, Eddie, and two of their tech guys were sitting on the far end of the table, but there were three men in gray suits seated closest to the door—one of whom rose when she entered the room.

“Detective Santos, agent Blue Adams,” he said, holding out his hand. They shook, and Luz took her seat, raising her eyebrows.

“Blue? Is that some new FBI agent coding or something?” she asked.

The man’s serious countenance slipped for a moment and she saw the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “No. My parents were hippies. My brother got it worse. His name is Rainbow. My full name is Blue Sky Adams, call me Sky if you want, people seem to settle better with that one.”

Luz skipped the formalities. “And you are here…” she led.

“Because there’s a serial killer running around that you people can’t seem to catch,” he finished and looked at her as if daring her to challenge the observation. Luz shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

“So you were called in to solve the case. My hero,” she drawled. A few people in the room laughed quietly but Adams’s face was like stone.

“Detective, with that attitude it’s no wonder you haven’t caught the killer yet. And yes, I’m here to clean up after you. You’ve got evidence in the news and plastered on the cover of all the papers, the killer is running free, and from what I hear you’re sleeping with the main suspect,” he shot back.

Luz jumped out of her seat and marched up to him. “First of all, every single person in this room has been working day and night on this case. I’ve got the bags to prove it,” she said, pointing to her eyes. “Not to mention a concussion and this pretty little scar,” she said, lifting up her shirt.

“Which you got because you didn’t call for backup and—”

“Second of all,” she interrupted, “there’s someone in the department leaking to the media, and we’re working on squeezing that shut, but it can’t be helped. It happens with these big cases. And lastly, how dare you come in here from god-knows-where and judge my personal life? Nicholas Mason has been cleared of all charges. His innocence had been proven, so if you have anything relevant on this case, say it and then get off of mine.”

The room was silent as Blue and Luz stood face to face. Agent Adams mumbled an apology and, satisfied, Luz took her seat.

Adams cleared his throat and began. “So far we’ve got zilch on the killer’s identity. We traced a woman called Francis Aberleen back to New York but that’s as far as we got. You all know the file, but there’s nothing else to go off of. That’s where we come in. I’ll need to set up a task force. Agent Walker and Agent Knutson are here to help with that. I’ll expect full cooperation,” he ended, looking around the room.

Mike stood and addressed the group. “Did you hear that? Full cooperation? Understood?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Dismissed.” As the others left, Mike waved Luz over to him.

“Mike, was this all necessary?” Luz asked.

“Listen,” he whispered, “I didn’t call them in. The mayor did.”

Luz was stunned into silence for a moment before she could speak. “Yates called the FBI. Shit. We must be making him look bad.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I want you to find this man or woman who’s slashing up my town. I don’t want this thing solved by a bunch of out-of-state suits with egos, got that?”

“Sure.”

“That means no more dates with your dream guy. I want you on this twenty-four seven. If you have to sleep, I want it to be at your desk. I’m serious,” he added when he saw her smile.

“I got you, boss. I’m all over it. I’ll report to you every few hours. I won’t rest until we find out who’s behind this.”

“Good, we need this to end,” he said and threw two Rolaids in his mouth “I’ve never had heartburn this bad my entire life.”

Luz returned to her office and called Nick to tell him not to expect her but to make himself at home. She could hear the regret in his voice, but work was work.

“I’ve been out of the work force so long that I forgot how long the hours on tough a case can drag on. So when will I see you?” he asked.

“You could come here,” she suggested.

“No. I’ve been kind of working on something.”

“Really? What?” she asked.

“Well, I really enjoyed being an attorney; even when I was homeless I helped a few people on the street. People who were wrongly evicted, young mothers who needed state help, wives who didn’t know they had a right to sue their husbands who beat them, things like that. I’ve missed doing it a lot.” Luz was silent, and he went on. “Anyway, I was thinking of opening a small firm, maybe doing independent work. But I need my money, I was going to talk to Fred and ask him—”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t go to him yet. I have a funny feeling about him. First, he disappeared. Seven years ago, he was making ends meet and now he’s got a daughter in a four-year university and a beautiful new house, not to mention he works for the mayor.”

“What?” Nick gasped. “He works for Yates? But how… how…”

“I know. So please, don’t go see him. We’re still investigating him, trying to figure out how he climbed the political ladder by skipping a few rungs. Please promise me you won’t go see him.”

The line was silent for a while and finally he agreed. “It’s Sunday. The mayor’s office is closed anyway.”

“Nick, I know how stubborn you can be. Please let me take care of this for you. Just lie low for a while. Fredrick doesn’t even know you’re alive. Just let it go for now.”

“Fine,” he replied tightly. “I’ll go check on a few friends downtown. I’m trying to convince my friend Andy to give up life on the streets and get his butt into rehab. That alone will take up the rest of my day.”

She sighed, relieved to have won that small battle. “Thank you. I know it’s hard but he’s one of the first leads we’re going to follow. It’s just so coincidental that he works for Yates and that Yates had a duplicate of the murder weapon. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Luz, I’ll call you later.”

“All right. I’ll be here. If not, call my cell.”

“Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful”

Luz was glad he couldn’t see her face as it went through ten shades of red. “Will do. Bye.” She hung up the phone and smiled at it for a minute before getting to work.

She reviewed Yates’s file and could find nothing of use, so she moved on to the file she had Sonny compile on Fredrick James. It was a relatively short file. The man hadn’t accomplished much in his forty years. She dialed her house again. Nick answered the second ring.

“I have one more question for you, and then I won’t bother you.”

“As if you could bother me. What do you need to know?”

“What was Fredrick’s job at the DA’s office?”

“He worked as a lawyer. Well, actually, he was very green when I worked there with him.”

“Oh?”

“Anyway, Candace, his wife, and I had been friends since I put glue in her hair in fourth grade. We dated for a while in high school and kept in touch throughout college. Our families remained close. When she was married I came to the wedding, and I became Chloe’s godfather.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of information. Go on,” she urged him to continue.

“Well, her husband, Fredrick, was a nice guy all the way around, so when she asked about openings downtown I told her I’d do what I could. At that time, we didn’t have any openings, but I convinced the big guys to give him a job. I put myself on the line for the guy. But after he started working there, I realized he must have cheated his way through college because the man wasn’t very bright. My boss came to me and we agreed to give him the low profile, easy win cases, which he barely handled alone. After that he was put on cases as second chair only. We couldn’t afford to lose any more cases due to his lack of knowledge. From there it seemed to work out fine. I didn’t think much of it when I left. He didn’t last, did he?”

“No, but then why would you choose to leave everything in his charge?”

“I was grief-stricken, and all out of friends. Candace was the one I’d known the longest. She’s a beautiful person, Luz. I don’t think she would have let anything happen to my money.”

Luz didn’t share his trustworthiness, but she kept silent. “Okay, that helps a lot. I’ll call you if I need anything else. Thanks.” When she hung up she checked the dates of employment for Fredrick downtown and she found he had worked there up until three weeks after Nick disappeared. Had they gotten rid of him that fast? She called there again and left her name, number and badge number asking for someone to call her back as early as possible the following day.

She worked through the afternoon, stopping briefly to buy a candy bar from the vending machine. Around three-thirty Sonny called and told her that the hair turned out to be artificial, meaning the killer wore a wig or toupee. No DNA to trace; it was a dead-end.

She let out a frustrated sigh and left her office, walking toward the other end of the building. The last thing she wanted was to talk to the cop shrink they’d nicknamed Quinn the Quack. Quinn Presley was the department psychologist. She counseled cops who had discharged their weapons, saw something awful or were involved in traumatic incidents on duty. Luz had only been forced to see her once and that was after she was involved in a case where she had to shoot to kill. Squeezing her eyes shut, she relived the incident over again.

It was one of those nights in the summer where it was too hot to breathe. She hadn’t yet made detective and was out patrolling when a little boy ran into the street in front of her car. She slammed on the breaks and got out to check on him. That’s when she noticed the blood all over his little hands and tears streaming down his face.

“What happened to you? What’s your name?” she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

He stared up at her with wide eyes. “Run!” he yelled. He ran away from her.

She started after him but heard footsteps behind her. She spun around, drawing her weapon in the process, but something struck the side of her head and she went down. She heard yelling, and then that little boy screamed.

Gun in hand, she struggled to her feet. She turned to find the boy in a heap on the ground, blood pooling around his tiny frame. A man stood over him holding a baseball bad coated in blood—a crazed look in his eyes. She yelled to him, identifying herself and hoping to distract him from the brutal beating he was delivering to the helpless boy. When he turned his soulless eyes to her, she understood there would be no reasoning with that man. He’d crossed the line from sanity into insanity long ago.

“You don’t know ME!” he screamed, marching her way, bat held high. She backed up and came into contact with the hood of her car. There was nowhere to run.

“Police! Put down your weapon!” she screamed, bracing the gun in her hands “Put it down now or I’ll shoot.” An icy panic slid through her whole body, but she’d been trained for situations like that. She took a deep breath and steadied her stance. Her confidence rose just enough to keep her in control.

He sneered at her. “You shoot me? I don’t think so.” He lunged at her, bat swinging high. She pulled the trigger. That moment still played through her mind every now and again. She shuddered thinking of the wet sound the bullet made when it tore through the man’s chest, and the way his face expressed shock and then nothing at all when he collapsed on the street, never to move again.

The man she killed that night, Clancy Keane, was chasing his son from their home with a baseball bat. They later learned that he had snapped and already bludgeoned both his wife and their daughter to death in their home. The poor kid had seen his own father kill his mother and sister. He ran out of the house in panic to get away from his deranged father and right into Luz’s path. She could still recall the abject terror on his face when her headlights illuminated him.

She wouldn’t, she couldn’t imagine what he had been through that night, but she knew in her gut that she wouldn’t have changed the way she handled things because the boy had lived. One year of excruciatingly painful physical therapy and more years of psychiatric therapy and the boy recovered from most of his injuries, both the physical and the mental ones. His grandparents raised him after that and every Christmas she had a Christmas card with his picture on it as proof that she’d done the right thing.

Quinn Presley though, had her own opinions on what happened that night and took Luz through it over and over, dissecting every detail. Going over other ways that night could have played out, questioning Luz’s logic and methods. Trying to dig into her personal life, saying her own experiences may have played a role in the decisions she made. It got under her skin and left a bad taste in her mouth. She knew the shrink was just doing her job, but she was no one’s lab rat. She attended every session, stuck by her story and eventually was cleared for duty and had given Quinn a wide berth from that point on.

But now she needed her—not only was she the on-call head doctor, she also dabbled in profiling and with her assistance, many cases had been solved or prioritized. Luz needed someone to get inside her suspect’s mind, peel away the layers to see why this person was killing so many so fast. It was obvious the killer was escalating, and she needed all the help she could get to find some clues into his or her psyche.

She knocked on the door and heard Quinn call for her to enter. She was a petite thing, not more than five-two, blazing red hair, pale skin, large brown eyes that flashed surprise when she looked up from her files and saw Luz in the doorway. “Santos, what can I do for you?”

“Hey, doc, I’m sure you’ve heard about my homeless killer case. I brought in my notes and was hoping you could add some weight to the profile I’ve started on her.”

For the second time the shrink’s eyebrows shot up. “A woman…” she mused “I could see that…”

“So you are familiar with the case?”

“I’ve scanned over the data, yes. It looks like your killer is on a spree to rid Seattle of its homeless population. This person has justified these killings in his or her mind. They may feel like they are doing the citizens of Seattle a favor.” She paused, shuffling through the files on her desk and pulled out the case file. After perusing the case notes she looked up again.

“He—or she—has no remorse, which could mean this person has crossed the line and isn’t coming back any time soon. The attempt on your life may have led them to escalate their plan. They see it as a challenge now that the police are involved. Patrols were doubled and you, yourself were at the Folklife festival, pulling off those kills would’ve acted as a rush, a release if you will, for the killer. Using the knife makes this personal. This person feels they are righting a wrong, perhaps someone close to them betrayed them. Seeing as you do have a woman suspect in mind, I’d guess she’s young, maybe twenty-five to thirty. She would have a decent job, a way to blend in. However, I wouldn’t rule out a man just yet. It would take a lot of strength to pull off these murders. Whoever this is, they probably feel like the end game is coming. At first, they were in charge, merely blowing off steam, but with the escalation comes a kind of panic, almost a frantic need to keep up the pace. Their social life will suffer. The façade they kept up for so long will begin to slip. This person is now a slave to their addiction, but like every addict, they will hit rock bottom, and in this case, that could be a very dangerous thing.” She shook her head and looked at Luz.

Luz decided to add the information to her notes for the captain. “I appreciate your input, Presley.” Luz turned away.

“Do you?” the doctor asked.

Luz knew immediately that the doctor was referring to the personal sessions they shared. “Look, I know we didn’t see eye to eye on my own situation. Sometimes it is just what it is: self-defense.”

“You’re saying there are times when the memory of that night doesn’t surface and punch you in the gut?”

Luz threw up her hands angrily. “Of course it does. I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t, but the job is the job and sometimes I have to make hard decisions. That night a demented man was coming at me with a baseball bat covered in the blood of his wife… his fucking daughter… I’d be a robot if that didn’t bother me now and then.”

Quinn studied her quietly for a moment. “And what of the life you took that night? Yes, he was deranged, but did he deserve to die?”

Anger simmered to the surface and Luz stuffed her hands in her pockets, hoping to avoid taking a swing at the shrink.

Quinn must’ve sensed her anger because she held up her hands in surrender. “I’m not defending that sicko. What he did was unforgiveable on every level. I was only ever worried about you. Killing someone can take a toll on a person, cop or not. How often are you thinking about it, detective? PTSD is a pretty serious thing. Ignoring it instead of working through it can be more damaging in the end. When I poked and prodded you I was only making sure you were okay. Like you, I was only doing my job.” She folded her arms and leaned forward on her desk, waiting for a response.

Luz let out a long breath. The anger she’d felt dissipated. “I know, I really do. Other than family, I’m not used to people worrying about me. I usually take care of myself.”

Quinn smiled warmly and asked; “Doesn’t that make you tired sometimes? Always watching your back, looking out for yourself? Isn’t it time to let someone else take care of you?”

Thinking of Nick taking care of her made Luz smile. “Maybe. Thanks, doc, I appreciate the time.”

“Anytime you want to stop by to chat—on or off the record—I’m here for you. Don’t be a stranger”

Luz nodded, closing the door behind her. She found herself warming up to the Quack… who knew? Maybe one day they’d be friends… maybe.

Luz pursed her lips and thought through the details of the murders again. Yes, this person was losing their edge, but an animal backed into a corner was dangerous. She had to stop the killer before someone else got hurt.

Eddie called and asked if Luz would need him to accompany her to the car garage where the Honda was stolen from. Emmanuel didn’t work until ten o’clock that night, so they set up a time to meet beforehand. They discussed bringing Leroy along. Even though he was a sweet guy, Leroy was the biggest, tallest black man Luz had ever seen except other than NFL players. They decided that Leroy would do well for the purpose of intimidation and she asked Eddie to bring him along.

Eddie and Leroy picked her up around ten and they drove down south along Highway 99 toward the airport. Passing the airport, they kept an eye out for Benny’s Park-n-Store.

“So, where’s Nick?” Eddie asked.

“Back at my place. Why?”

“Mike wanted him to stay with you, so I thought he’d tag along.”

“No, he’s been cleared. He needs some time to work things out. Besides, I sent a patrol car over to check on him occasionally.”

“Ahh the joys of dating.” Eddie chuckled.

“Shut up, Lopez. I had to do this. He knows he’s being watched. I explained it to him.”

Changing the subject Eddie said, “So what’s with the FBI moving in?”

“The mayor’s worried about his image, so he called them up and they send down Mr. Blue’s Clues to close the case,” Luz said.

Leroy laughed but Eddie seemed confused. “Blue’s Clues?”

“Yeah that little blue dog on TV that finds clues, it’s a children’s show. Don’t you have nieces or nephews?” Luz asked Eddie.

“Back in LA so I don’t get a chance to watch shows with them, but I get the point. Good one, Santos.”

“The joke was lost on you but whatever,” she said, pointing to a green sign that read “Benny’s” across the street. “Take a left here.”

Eddie signaled and pulled into the parking lot. It was dark along the side of the building and Luz could just make out a neon service sign toward the back. They parked along the fence and got out of the truck. Luz led the way and they entered the business. The front desk was unattended, and the lobby was a mess. Car magazines were strewn all over the chairs and the small table with the coffeemaker was covered in sugar and cream.

“Nice place.” Eddie snorted and rang the bell on the counter. A large, round man poked his head out of a doorway across the room. His hair was dark and looked as if it had never seen a comb or brush. He sported an overgrown, unruly goatee.

“Yeah?” he called but made no move to come out.

“We’re looking for Emmanuel Altek,” Luz said, flashing her badge.

The man stared at them a moment longer and spat. “What for?”

“There was a break-in here a while ago and we need some answers.”

“A break-in? You sure you got the right place?” he called, still making no move to come out of the office.

Eddie stepped around the desk toward the man. “Why don’t you come out where we can see you, sir?”

The man’s eyes grew wide. “No, no. Don’t come back here. Get back!” he whined, nearly falling out of his chair. Eddie approached the office, but by that time, the man had gotten to his feet and attempted to shut the door. But Eddie was too fast. He used his shoulder to block the door and pulled the man by his collar out of the room. The name on his shirt read “Manny”.

Luz clicked her tongue. “Refusing to cooperate with the police is a bad thing, Mr. Altek.”

He looked at her then back toward his office. “Leroy, would you go see what Mr. Altek was so busy doing in his office?” she asked, never taking her eyes off Altek. Leroy walked past them into the office and Altek’s face fell.

“Well, well, well, looks like our man has a problem,” Leroy called from inside. They waited for an explanation and got it when Leroy stepped out, holding a small plastic bag full of white powder.

Luz shook her head and turned back to Altek. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Emmanuel. You’re bad news, aren’t you?”

Altek looked from Eddie to Leroy and shrugged. “That ain’t mine.”

Luz raised her eyebrows. “Then whose is it?” she asked.

“I’m holding it for a customer. This is a storage place.”

“Auto storage last I heard,” Eddie said giving him a little shove.

“Whatever,” was the man’s response but he was starting to sweat.

Luz walked up to Altek’s face. She could smell alcohol on his breath. “Whoa. Manny, is that vodka I smell?”

He looked at her and swore under his breath. “Yeah. I grabbed a drink before work. So?”

His indifference irritated Luz. She raised her hand to Altek’s face and squeezed his nose hard and held on. His scream resembled the sound of a teapot at boiling point. When she finally let go, his hands covered his nose and he fell to his knees, whimpering.

“You fucking bitch… you… fucking… bitch, that hurt!” he repeated as he rubbed his nose. Then he jumped to his feet and lunged at her. Both Leroy and Eddie caught him by the shoulders and held him back. Looking pathetic, Altek glared with undisguised hatred.

“Lying to the police is worse. Now, we came here for answers. All you’ve proven just now is that you’re a liar. Judging from the pain you’re obviously in, that coke is yours. I came for the truth, Manny. Why don’t we start over?” She walked back to the door and rang the bell on the counter then waited expectantly.

Altek looked at her for a second then got up and walked to the desk. “M-may I help you?” he stammered.

Luz flashed her badge again and smiled. “I need to speak with Emmanuel Altek, is he around?”

“That’s me. I’m him,” he replied pointing to himself. Luz felt sorry for the man. His nose was bright red and there was blood around the rims of his nostrils, but she had no time to play good cop.

“I’m Detective Santos with the Seattle Police Department. We’re working a murder case downtown and need do ask you a few questions.”

“S-Sure.” He clasped his hands together.

“Fredrick and Candace James stored a ninety-five Honda Accord here up until it was stolen two years ago. What happened to it?”

He stared at her, his face blank.

“Maybe you want to pull up the file,” she said flatly, pointing to the ancient computer at the end of the counter. He went to the computer and typed slowly. The machine was dated, and Luz knew it would take a while. After a few beeps, Altek nodded and waved her over.

“Yeah, it was never found.”

“Was it ever lost?” she asked.

“What? I don’t understand,” he said. More beads of sweat formed on his upper lip.

She placed both hands on the counter and Altek moved back a step, watching her closely like he was ready to jump back if her fingers came anywhere near his nose.

“Why wasn’t it reported?” she asked, and he opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “And don’t bother lying. You reported a Honda stolen that night, but you reported a Honda Civic and you gave the wrong tags. I looked it up. What happened to the Accord?”

Altek was silent for too long. Eddie came up behind him and barked in his ear. “Answer the lady,” he ordered. Altek shrugged.

“Well?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly.

“I think you do, and if you don’t want me to adjust your nose again, you’ll tell us now. But if you lie, you’re not only going down for possession of cocaine. We’ll stack on attempted assault on an officer—that would be me—interfering with an investigation and falsifying a stolen vehicle report.”

The sweat flowed freely at this point, but he shook his head. “Lady, I got a family. I know I dabble with drugs, but I’ve worked here for ten years, I could lose my job.”

“You’ll lose it either way. I’ve got sources that tell me you sell stolen parts out of vehicles you’re supposed to be keeping safe. Others tell me you deal drugs out of here as well, so if you don’t feel like helping us, we’re not going to feel like helping you. But if you give us the information we need, we might just act like we never stopped by. Get it?”

He took a seat on the old rusted office chair behind the desk. Luz gave him time to think but motioned for Eddie and Leroy to stand by. They walked up behind Altek and took their seats on the desk.

“Well?” she asked.

He sighed heavily and began. “A few years back I did a little dealing. Drugs and parts, out of the garage but shit kept going wrong and the cops wouldn’t leave me alone. It was those fucking chinks. Never kept their mouths shut about anything.”

Eddie spoke up. “The proper word would be ‘Asians’.”

Altek looked up at him, surprised. “Excuse me, Mr. Politically Correct, can I continue?” he asked. Eddie rolled his eyes and looked at Luz.

“Go on,” she prodded

“As I was saying, this was all a few years back. I don’t mess around like that no more, bad for real business. So one day this chick walks in and asks about some Honda we were holding.”

Luz stopped him. “It was a woman?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t fit in, ya know, her clothes were too nice, ironed and all that shit, and she smelled clean. Anyway, I tell her all records are sealed from the public, only the owners can see the cars. Well, she shoves this fifty in my hand, telling me she just wants to see it. So I show it to her and she freaks out, says that she has to buy it. I tell her that this is a storage place, not a car dealership and she gives me this crazy look like she’s gone over the edge.

“Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a lot of money. She counts out two thousand dollars and hands it to me. I’m thinking ‘shit’, so I go back inside and make a copy of the key for her. Then I just gave it to her. She gave me six hundred dollars to never mention it and then that crazy look. At that point, I was scared, but I asked anyway. ‘What if the cops come around?’ and she did the weirdest thing. She scratched her arms—like a lot and, well, that was enough for me. I told her to beat it, that I would take care of it and you know what she says to me? She says, ‘Better to take care of it then to be taken care of.’ Strange bitch. I just nodded and said ‘sure’ and she drove off. So then I call in the stolen Accord with a different VIN and tags. The police really didn’t bother. They never do in this part of town. Well that was before you guys showed up.”

“Yeah, then we show up,” Leroy echoed getting to his feet.

“Jesus, Manny, you’ve broken so many laws, and I’m sure the owner of the car won’t be too happy to hear this.” Luz said.

Altek shot out of his chair. “What? I thought you weren’t going to say anything?” he shouted.

Luz backed up and smiled. “I don’t remember making any agreement like that.”

Altek’s face scrunched up and he pointed his finger at her.

“Don’t get all worked up, Manny. If we could just get a description of the woman, I’d be in a negotiating mood. How about it?” she asked, pulling out her notepad.

He stared at her for a moment. “Lady, I really need this job,” he said slowly.

“And I really need this information,” Luz replied.

“What if she comes after me? What if she sends someone? If she’s the killer you’ve been looking for?”

“If you don’t tell me, she will be the least of your problems,” Luz said grabbing hold of his nose again, but she didn’t squeeze. Instantly Altek’s forehead was coated with sweat.

“P-Please don’t… she was tall, and skinny,” he blurted, and Luz let go.

“And?”

“It was hard to tell. She wore a long coat. Actually, she was dressed more like a man,” he said and scratched his head.

“Excuse me?” Luz said.

“Yeah, I remember now, she had a brown wig and a funny hat and one of those stick-on mustaches.”

“How did you know she was a she?” Eddie asked.

“When she handed over the money I noticed her nails. They were long and cut real nice, and she had no apple.”

“Adam’s apple?” Luz suggested. He nodded pointing at his own.

“And her voice, I could tell she was trying to disguise it but after she freaked out about the car, she must have forgotten cuz her voice went back to normal.”

“Shit!”

“You know her?” Altek asked, eyebrows raised.

Luz put her notepad away, headed out the door and told Eddie and Leroy to come with her. Altek hurried after her and called to her from the doorway.

“Hey! So does this mean I’m off the hook?”

“For now,” Luz replied.

“Well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means for now. Get back to work, Manny,” she said and climbed into the truck.

~

After they got on the freeway Eddie broke the silence. “A woman. Well at least that’s consistent with the actual evidence we’ve got.”

“But where does Fredrick James come in? I mean why does he work for Yates all of a sudden when Yates was suspected of killing his good friend’s wife? It doesn’t jive,” Leroy added.

“There’s no doubt the guy is hiding something. He was shaking like leaf in a windstorm. What if he killed Leah for Yates and as a reward Yates set him up with a job and paid for Chloe’s college?” Eddie surmised.

Luz looked at Eddie, reached over and patted him on the back. “Shit, Lopez, I didn’t know you had it in you. You’re gonna make detective someday.”

Eddie looked embarrassed but managed a small smile.

“First thing tomorrow we visit Mr. James again. But right now, we need to find out what’s going on with this he/she Altek told us about. If I can put together a photo-line-up maybe he’ll pick her—or him—out. We’re getting somewhere,” she said. “Finally.”