Chapter 5

Gabe got the call as he was getting ready to leave his office for the evening. He'd been sitting and staring at his murder board. The eyes of those girls, now including the photos of Devon Basset, seemed to be staring at him, accusing him of missing something, some integral part of the puzzle that he should know. Some tiny part of the killer's identification that should be right there in front of him if he'd only just reach out and pluck it.

And along with those eyes, he could see Kaylee's eyes. She'd been so afraid today, clinging to him as her savior and protector. But that was something he couldn't be. All he could do was work the case. For that was what she was, he kept trying to tell himself, part of the case.

But her eyes still were there, like melted chocolate, they pulled at him, making him remember more than just her eyes. Like how she'd looked in the skirt she was wearing the first time he'd seen her. Or how she felt, her skin so soft despite the hard manual labor that she did on a daily basis as he had held her hand in comfort. He wasn't thinking of her like a cop would. That was his whole problem.

He'd turned off the lights in his office, closing the door when the phone began to ring. It had been a close thing, him going back in to answer it. He'd almost turned around and left. But a niggling uncertainty had him opening the door and racing across the dark room to grab the phone.

"Hampton," he growled.

"We got an officer down at the safe house where we stashed your waitress, Hampton. I think you need to get over there."

He didn't even bother to answer the chief, dropping the phone back into the cradle where it bounced and landed slightly off skew, leaving the sound of the dial tone to buzz dully in the dark. His coat billowed out behind him as he ran for the door, his hand in his pant's pocket, grabbing out his keys.

And then he realized he didn't know which safe house they'd taken her to.

"Billings," he snapped at the sergeant on duty at the desk. "I need to know where the officer down is at. Now man!" he almost shouted.

"Richmond Avenue," Billings yelled back, watching as the Detective turned on his heel and raced out the door. "Prick," he muttered under his breath. "Damn detectives have no courtesy for the working stiffs."

Gabe hopped into his car, jamming the key in the ignition and turning it over before he even had the car door closed. He slammed the blue bubble light on the dash and with one hand on his horn, the other on the steering wheel, he left black marks on the pavement from his tires as he left the lot.

Traffic wasn't heavy but it seemed to take him forever to get to the house, a forever that had him wondering what he would find when he got there.

The yard was lit up with blue and red lights that revolved and shone off the houses close by to the old house they were in front of. Gabe ran to the front door, his heart in his throat as he saw the pool of blood in the front hall. Behind him, an ambulance pulled up, sirens screaming into the night sky.

He flashed his badge at the uniform stationed at the front door.

"It's bad, Detective. Two of ours down, though they think Montero might make it."

Gabe nodded, hurrying past the body of the dead detective and taking the stairs two at a time. Jack was in a back bedroom, a uniform holding his hand, another one pressing down on his chest where a long thin wound was bleeding copiously. He was awake though, but his head rolled back and forth against the floor with pain.

Gabe fell to his knees on the floor by his head. "Jack, where's Kaylee?"

"Oh God, oh God, he killed Chuck, just reached through the door and sliced his throat. And the pizza guy. We thought he was bringing us dinner, that you'd sent him. Fingers, there were fingers on the pizza..." Jack's voice broke off, his eyes slipping closed.

"Jack! Goddamit, you've got to fight this!" Gabe yelled grabbing Jack's jaw and watching his eyes pop back open. "Where's Kaylee?"

"She ran. I told her to run. Had a knife to my throat, Gabe, was going to kill me if she didn't go with him. I told her to run. I told her..."

"Did she run, Jack? Did she get away from him?" Gabe looked up as the Emergency techs came in the room, pushing aside the cops. "Jack! Did she get away?!" he shouted.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Through the bushes," was the last Gabe heard as he was pushed out of the way so the techs could do their work.

"The bushes?" he asked the cop on the scene as the man stared down at the blood coating his hand. "Do you know what he meant?"

"There's a huge hedge in the back of this place, I don't know how anyone would get through it, but that could be what he meant."

"Okay, you keep the scene secured, let crime scene in and call the chief."

The uniform looked up from his hands as his partner walked in with a towel from the car. "Where are you going?"

"Our suspect came after his intended victim and she got away. I've got to find her."

Gabe ignored the flashing lights of the camera crews who were starting to gather just outside the bright yellow sawhorses that someone had set up. Crime scene tape was already fluttering in the soft wind that was blowing. A crime scene van was pulling up as he reached his car to rifle through the glove box and find his flashlight. He nodded at the man who jumped out, waiting until they were headed inside and under the news camera's scrutiny before heading around the side of the house.

It was dark back there, CS not yet having put up their blindingly bright lights. He clicked on the heavy flashlight as he half ran, half walked toward the huge bank of shrubs, wondering how the hell anyone had gotten through there.

He trailed the beam of his light along the bottom of the brush, starting in the far corner and following it until he found it. A bunch of broken branches, the ground disturbed under it, and a tiny fluttering piece of white hanging from a branch, the place that Kaylee had managed to wiggle under. He reached out, plucking the white material off of the branch, knowing he wasn't following protocol now, but he didn't give a fuck.

There was a girl out there, probably scared, traumatized, maybe even in the hands of a killer and he had to find her.

Gabe followed what little trail he could, finding little clues, a place where a heel had made a deep impression in wet soil, another piece of her shirt, drops of blood near a huge Doberman who tried to take his head off. When he came out onto Beacon Street, with its bars and strip clubs, he was almost positive she had gotten away from the suspect. Now he just had to find her.

Flashing his badge at the people on the street that he asked got him dirty looks and "I didn't see nothing's". Frustrated after an hour of walking and not getting any answers, he finally pulled out a fifty dollar bill. He walked up to an aging hooker, waving the money in front of her eyes.

"Look, I'm searching for a young girl, about twenty. She's got long dark hair and brown eyes, about your height. She'd be wearing a white shirt and a black skirt. And she was probably running or scared. Have you seen her?"

"I tell you what I know when you hand over the money, honey. Nothing from Trixie ever comes free, sugar." Her long fingers almost plucked the bill out of his hand, stuffing it with the provocative gesture into the scarlet bra she was wearing under the skimpy black halter. "I seen your girl. She run by here and then down that alley up there. I ain't seen hide nor hair of her since, though."

"How long ago?" he asked, turning towards the alley.

"How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a watch?" Trixie turned with a dismissive little wave of her hand and started trolling for Johns once more.

Gabe broke into a trot, his heart racing. What would he find down that alley? He could only pray that Kaylee would be alive and whole and waiting for him there.

Kaylee huddled in her little corner of the dark, hugging her knees and trying to pretend she was invisible. She tried desperately to work up the bravery to come out of her hiding place. She tried to convince herself she was safe. She'd been back here forever, he had to give up looking for her sometime.

She'd heard footsteps a couple of times and once a light had been shone down the dark alley, almost touching on her hiding place, but she curled down into a ball, closing her eyes until the footsteps had gone away.

Where was Gabe? He had to know by now that something terrible had happened. If Jack had survived ... but that was impossible. She'd heard that strange, eerie voice calling her name as he had come down the stairs. If Jack had still been alive, he wouldn't have left her alone.

Her teeth were chattering, her back and butt felt numb from the cold cement of the alley. She couldn't stop shivering. She was miserable, scared and more alone than she'd ever been in her life.

"Kaylee?"

She heard his voice but for a moment she thought she was dreaming and couldn't answer. Did she only just want him here so badly that now she was imagining him being there?

"Kaylee? Are you down there, sweetheart?" Gabe's voice came again.

"Y ... Yes," she croaked, trying to get to her feet. But her legs were asleep and she fell backwards, smashing into a set of metal trash cans, knocking them over with a loud crash.

His feet made echoing slapping noises on the concrete and then he was there, reaching down to pick her up and wrap her in his arms. Gabe held her close, feeling her shiver and lean against him, her arms coming up to wrap around his back. "Oh God," he breathed into her hair. "I didn't know where you were. I thought he'd gotten you."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, tears that soaked into his coat as she held him tight. "He almost did," she whispered.

Looking up, she met his worried blue gaze. "Jack and Chuck?" she asked.

"Jack might make it. Chuck didn't," he answered her truthfully, pushing her hair from out of her face. He could see the guilt in her expression and shook his head. "No, Kaylee, don't you even think to blame this on yourself. You didn't ask for this guy to chase you nor did you do anything to provoke it. Sociopaths have their own laws and rules of right and wrong in life, that's what makes them as dangerous as they are. It is not your fault what he does, okay?"

"I shouldn't have run," she said, her hands digging into the fabric of his coat. "I should have stayed and..."

"Died, Kaylee. Or worse, you could have been taken by this lunatic. Come on, sweetheart, you did the only thing you possibly could at the time. And you probably saved Jack's life in the process."

"I did?" she asked, shaking her head. "How could I have saved his life?"

"Because the killer was focused on getting to you. He didn't take the time to kill Jack, just incapacitate him. Because you ran, he left Jack alive until we could get there." He felt her shivering and stripped out of his jacket, wrapping the big garment around her shoulders even as she clung to him. "We've got to get you warm."

"No more police," she begged. "No more safe houses, please. Can't I just stay with you?"

He closed his eyes, knowing he was asking for trouble by even considering this. But she felt so wonderful in his arms and his body seemed almost to sag in relief at knowing she was safe, he couldn't refuse her. "Come on," he said, pulling his coat closer around her.

He left his car at the safe house, taking a cab back to his place. One of the officers at the scene would drive it back to the station. He lived in a first floor apartment of a brownstone house. His apartment consisted of two bedrooms, a bathroom, living and kitchen area and a very tiny room that had once been intended as a breakfast nook that he used as his office.

Kaylee couldn't help but look around when she walked in, wondering how a man like Gabe lived. It was cop messy. Coffee cups in the sink, newspaper on the couch and a huge plasma television on the wall. Mail was piled on a small breakfast bar and dust was layered on everything.

"Sorry for the mess, I haven't been home much recently to clean," he said, swiping up the newspapers and giving her a place to sit. "Make yourself at home," he said excusing himself to go to the phone. He dialed the number for the precinct, speaking quietly into the phone for a few minutes and watching her out of the corner of his eye.

She had that shocky look that most victims had when he first saw them, the look that said 'How the hell did this happen to me?' It would change, he knew. Some broke down and cried, others got angry. He thought Kaylee would be in the latter group.