Chapter 12

Gabe looked over his notes, rereading what the department press release official had deemed newsworthy and mixing it with what he and the Captain had come up with to try and coax their suspect out into the public eye. All it would take would be one person to see his picture and recognize him and they could have him, finally.

But then Kaylee could go home. Gabe wasn't sure if he liked the idea of her not being there for him. He turned and looked over at where she was brushing her hair, something the Captain and the department shrink said she needed to do right before they went out.

Their suspect had a thing for hair, brunette hair. He had a thing for good looking girls of about Kaylee's age and physical attributes. Hell, Gabe thought, he had a thing for Kaylee period.

That thought made him even less happy with the idea of her being involved in all of this. He went up to her, crouching in front of her chair and resting his hand against her thigh. "Are you sure you want to do this, Kaylee? It could get dangerous for you."

"It could get dangerous for you, too, Gabe," she said in all seriousness, wishing she could reach up and touch his face or rest her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah, but that's why they pay me the medium size bucks," he joked. "So I can get my ass shot at." He sighed. "You don't need this, Kaylee. Last night was the first that you didn't have any nightmares."

"Someone didn't let me sleep long enough to have nightmares last night," she laughed, setting the brush on the desk and pulling out some makeup. "I promise, Gabe. I'll be fine. Besides, how hard can it be? You know, sitting ducks just ... sit there."

"That's not funny," he growled, the image of her covered in blood or strangled with those horrid black bruised circling her throat popping into his mind.

"But if it works, you'll be off of babysitting duty, that a plus. Right?" She glanced up at him casually as she finished speaking.

"Yeah, it's a plus, but having you out of my bed isn't. Neither is not seeing you anymore." He resisted the urge to stroke his hand over her hair, but just barely. "I don't like the idea of you not being next to me at night. I've gotten used to your grunts."

"Pigs grunt, Mr. Police Officer sir, not delicate little girls like me," she answered him back primly, making him laugh.

"That's Mr. Detective, to you, baby."

She smiled, liking the way that sounded coming from him. "So, what are you saying, here? That if we make it through this, you want me to move in or something?"

"Well," he said, smiling and trying to cover it with his hand. "We could start with dinner and go from there."

Kaylee grinned. "I think I could do that," she said, reaching over and picking a tiny bit of lint off of his lapel. He was dressed in a dark navy suit with a lighter blue shirt that made his eyes shine an incredible shade. His hair was brushed back from his face and, despite the shadows under his eyes, he looked amazing. "Have I ever told you that you look yummy in blue?" she asked him, her eyes sparkling.

"Yummy? I don't think I've ever been described as yummy before," he laughed.

"Oh yes you have," she quipped and then sobered, remembering it was Tina who had described him as such the first time she'd seen him in the restaurant. "Tina called you yummy the day you came in to talk to me, the day we met."

Gabe saw the sadness in the dark brown of her eyes, reaching out and brushing her cheek with his hand, despite where they were. "You'll see her again, Kaylee. I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Gabe." She looked down, picking up the brush and playing with it as she did.

"Hey," he said, reaching out and covering her hand with his. "I never make promises I can't keep. I have a good feeling about this. I know we'll find her, and alive. It's just a matter of time."

"I can't help but think what she's going through, and that other girl, the one he took last night. What are they going through? What are they thinking? They must feel so helpless." A tear started in her eye, falling down her cheek and she swiped at it angrily.

"You can't think like that, Kaylee. Besides," he wiped off her cheek with his thumb. "You'll wreck your makeup and you don't want your viewing audience of one to see you with runny mascara do you?"

He turned on the television, turning the set so that it angled enough that Tina could see it from where she was tethered. He had cable hookups all over the house, an easy thing when he did all his own wiring work.

"Ready ladies?" he asked, clapping his hands in glee like a small child. Tina shot daggers at his back with her eyes, taking tiny steps along the floor for her thigh muscles were screaming with pain and her ass hurt. He was acting like a child now, not the monster he'd been last night. It was as if, with this news conference, he'd reached a new goal, a new high.

There was a picture on the screen, a high school yearbook shot of Michelle, her name and age under it when the television screen flashed on. It was followed quickly by a picture of Tina, her arms wrapped around a beaming Angie. Tina felt a sob well in her throat, remembering how happy they'd been together when that picture was taken.

Both those pictures disappeared, and a new one was put up. This was an artistic sketch; a drawing of the man they thought was the killer.

"Wow, it's not very good, is it?" he asked Michelle, standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

The artist had captured him as having wild eyes, nothing like the mild mannered though eerily colored eyes that he had. His hair had been wind blown, standing up on his head. His nose was too large and his mouth seemed way too wide. There were some similarities but not enough for him to worry about and he pursed his mouth, a trifle disappointed.

To amuse himself, he reached down, rolling Michelle's nipple between his thumb and finger as he listened to the Mayor give his usual bullshit. But his attention perked when Detective Gabe Hampton was introduced.

Ladies and Gentlemen. I won't take up too much of your time but I wanted to give you the FBI profile that we've had drawn up on our killer. That along with his picture, we hope, will jar a memory out there and have you calling in to our hotline. The subject is in his late twenties to early thirties. He will be a white male, dark hair and blue eyes. He stands about 5'10" to 6' tall. Medium build, he will be well kept, nicely dressed and we think he drives an SUV of some kind...

The words faded as the cameraman zoomed the shot out, showing everyone standing upon the steps of City Hall, and not just the detective. He saw her in an instant, her dark hair gleaming in the sun, picking out dark gold highlights to tease him. "Kaylee?" he breathed, his fingers slipping off of Michelle's nipple, his hands grabbing the back of her chair and holding on tight.

She was beautiful, even more so than he remembered or that showed in any of the pictures he had of her. He could only see a part of her for there was another detective next to her, his badge clearly showing on his belt, his arm coming in front of Kaylee as if he were protecting her. She wore a red blouse today that clung to her curves and was open at the throat, his eyes going to the dark hint of her cleavage. His fingers itched to touch her, to open those tiny white buttons and expose red satin and lace cupping the soft curves of her breasts.

The cameraman panned away from her, zooming in for a moment on the detective who was still talking and he grabbed the chair harder, a moan coming from between his lips. "No!" he yelled at the television. "Bring her back!"

He didn't hear a word that was said, though he didn't care for he was taping it from one of his other televisions. She'd been there, she'd actually been right in front of him. He kept his eyes glued to the television, even as his mind retreated to the day he'd first seen her.

He'd been twelve, visiting his uncle with his parents. His mother's brother hadn't every really seemed 'all there', but his mother loved him anyway and they went to his home in the city every year. This year had been different, though he wasn't quite sure how, until he heard the screaming. Running from his room, he'd gone down the stairs, seeing his father pull his mother away from his uncle who was cowering in a corner, a large bundle at his feet.

It fell over as he watched, a hand, the skin looked almost light blue in color, spilling out, pulling off the blanket that uncovered the face. Her face. Kaylee's face. So perfect with her dark eyes open and staring, her mouth painted the exact red that matched the soft ribbon his uncle had wrapped in her hair. She'd seemed the sublime present, exquisite in death, never leaving, never screaming or hitting or hating, as his mother was.

He closed his eyes, feeling the pull of that memory, unaware of his hands going to Michelle's throat. He didn't hear Tina's shouts or curses, or feel Michelle's hands digging into his skin, tearing at the meat on the back of his hands as her face turned red and then purple, her eyes starting to bulge. All he saw was that perfect face with the red ribbon in her satiny sweep of brunette hair.

His cock throbbed in his pants, pushing desperately against the zipped that held it bound. His hands flexed, almost as if in pain and he released Michelle, not hearing her strangled moans and the heavy sound of her gasping as she tried to draw air in through her tortured throat. He knelt down in front of her, almost as if he were in some kind of trance, reaching out to run his hands over her hair even as she cowered back away from him.

"So pretty," he whispered, lifting a strand and bring it to his nose. "So soft."

He smiled, the sight terrifying to the poor girl held prisoner in the chair by his body. She didn't dare move, didn't dare provoke him further, trying to suck in air and not make a noise. Michelle could hear Tina behind her, yelling curses, trying to coax him away from Michelle and couldn't believe her bravery even though in her terror she wished he'd go.

She flinched as his hands came out again, taking one of hers and putting it on the long hard ridge of flesh that rose under his pants. It throbbed against her palm and she sobbed, knowing that she was about to be raped.

"Rub it, Kaylee," he whispered, his eyes still lost in the past even as his hands moved over her body, pulling her forward in the chair. "Unzip my pants," he urged Michelle, his mouth moving over her ear and down to her mouth, tasting the saltiness of her tears upon his lips. "Pull out my cock, Kaylee. That's it, baby, take it in your hand and stroke it. Ahh, yeah, that's what I like, nice and gentle."

"Do it, Michelle. Do what he says," Tina said softly. "Don't fight him."

His cock felt strange in her hand even though she'd been forced to touch it before. It was soft skinned steel, like buttery soft leather over a metal rod. He made strange noises in his throat as she touched him, stroking him as he ordered.

Grunts, came from his lips, his eerie eyes closing as he lost himself to his memories, fantasies and her touch. He jerked his hips, pushing more of his shaft into her hand. "I want to fuck you, Kaylee. You want me to, don't you, baby? Tell me you want me to fuck you, Kaylee."