Chapter 1: You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh...

"Malcolm Gridley," Dana told us with a note of satisfaction in her voice. It had been a week to the day since we had started the fire inside Creepy's garage and we were all seated around the living room drinking wine. Maria was curled up in the big red easy-chair, Kim in the love seat and Jen and Pat sat on the large burgundy couch while Vicky sat on the floor atop a large throw pillow with her back against the wall. Dana and Candy were standing; both still dressed in their smart looking FBI business suits having just come in from work. I was tending that living room fire which we had started for atmosphere rather than warmth because this time of year it still wasn't very cold out.

"That's Creepy's real name, Malcolm Gridley," Dana continued. "It took a few days but we finally made the bastard. He's not talking much but from what little he did tell us and from his well kept records he had hidden away in that Downey house we do know that he's killed at least 30 women across the borders of twenty different states. We also know that he's the son of a New Orleans prostitute and that he apparently started his rampage with the rape and killing of his own mother when he was sixteen."

Listening to Dana brought back depressing and unwanted memories of Kitty and I absentmindedly threw another log on the fire and started poking and jabbing at it vigorously as if it were Creepy and not the inanimate chunk of wood that it actually was.

"Jesus Sam!" Jen complained. "Who do you think you are? The stoker on The Queen Mary attempting to win 'The Blue Ribbon' and, being paid double time with a large bonus for your monumental efforts at keeping the ships steam up."

I looked up and realized that the results of my labors of stabbing Creepy, was that the living room had attained a temperature somewhere above warm and still rising. "Sorry," I apologized pushing the log I had been forcefully attacking off to one side and away from the smaller fire so it could go out.

Shaking her head Vicky got up and opened two of the horizontal slatted side windows allowing the cool sea breeze to flow into the room.

I gritted my teeth together and then mouthed the word sorry to her as she retook her seat atop the large pillow. She just smiled and then shook her head once again silently letting me know I was an idiot. Hell, who could argue that?

"From his files we know that he focused his deadly attention primarily on ladies of the evening," Dana continued. "And because of that, I'm sorry to say that he probably wasn't caught before now because the police are generally slower to respond to killings of women who are considered part of the local low-life."

"That same lack of interest by the police concerning the death of prostitutes was the common thyme expressed by every one of those working girls we interviewed downtown," I offered as I picked up my wine glass off the fireplace mantel and then went over and scooted my butt in next to Maria's. It was a tight, cheek to cheek fit but Maria didn't seem to mind and I certainly didn't. She has some very nice cheeks to snuggle up too.

"Unfortunately I don't see that changing in the near future," Candy responded to my comment. "What is changing however is that Dana and I won't be dealing with Malcolm 'Creepy' Gridley any longer, he lawyered up and the shrinks have him now. Man! Talk about one screwed up sociopath though. That bastard doesn't feel any guilt or remorse what-so-ever for what he's done. Truth be told, if I never have to talk to him again it wouldn't bother me one bit."

"God, it makes you wonder what makes a guy like that tick." Kim commented.

"Don't know," Dana said. "But from what little he has said it's obvious that he's a very sexually frustrated man and that prostitute's somehow seem to represent a painful mirror of his own inadequacies. Apparently for all his life there's been a pattern of impotency in any normal male-female relationship and at one point he even eagerly told us that he's unable to achieve sexual arousal except when stimulated by violence or death."

"So is the fucker going to fry or not?" I asked somewhat belligerently.

Dana's face turned a bit pale before she answered, "He's never going to see the light of day again I can tell you that Sam. Heck, there's enough solid evidence on this guy to put him in the chair ten times over, but as for actually getting him into that chair, you know how the shrinks work in cases like this. But believe me honey this guy really is screwed up in the head. This isn't one of those cop an insanity plea things. I'm not a psychologist but after spending a whole week talking to this guy it doesn't take a degree in psychology to tell you his brain is so far out to lunch he's having breakfast."

"I agree," Candy confirmed. "This guy is one totally screwed up dude."

"I know," I answered sourly. "But just the thought of that guy still breathing air pisses me off."

"Yeah, six feet under would certainly be better," Jen agreed. "But do you think there's any possibility of getting him to tell where he buried any of his victims?"

"In time, I would hope so," Candy answered. "But god only knows how long that will take."

"The good news is he's where he can't ever hurt anyone again," Dana said a bit more cheerfully then she paused to blow her breath softly across the fingernails of her folded up right hand before rubbing them over her well endowed upper chest, "and the Captain of the LAPD task force, along with the Mayor of Los Angles I might add, sent an official congratulatory letter of appreciation to not only our local office here in LA, but also to FBI headquarters in DC. That letter officially thanked the FBI for their assistance with this case and stated that Candy and I were not only instrumental in helping to solve the case, but also with capturing the individual responsible. I don't remember all the fancy words but it farther stated that the LAPD and the Mayor of Los Angles would consider it an honor and a personal favor if, whenever possible, the FBI would assign Special Agent's Dana Peel and/or Candy Muldon to work with the City of Los Angles on any future cases that calls for federal involvement in the greater Los Angeles area."

"Wow! No kidding?" Vicky said excitedly while jumping up and hugging first Candy and then Dana.

The rest of us also quickly got up and followed suit mooning all over the two federal agents.

"Hey now, wait just one minute here," Dana said backing away slightly. "Nobody knows better than you guy's that we couldn't have done it without the rest of you ... especially without you Sam. So congratulate yourselves not us. I'm just sorry you couldn't get any of the credit."

"When you have this credit ... do we not have it as well? We are all family." Maria asked looking at Dana questionably.

Dana laughed, "You're absolutely right Maria. It's just that we can't go public with the credit you and the others deserve."

"There is no need to go to this public. We know. And that is what is important is it not?" Maria said smiling.

"I told you. She's smart as a whip," Pat said hugging Maria.