Chapter 3
1550 Words
Gemma spends most of the night tossing and turning, not just because it isn’t her bed, but because only twenty-four hours ago she was a detective investigating a murder. Now she’s in the sights of a possible healthy food delivering serial killer!
“I mean… Who delivers healthy food to someone you are going to kill?”
“A mad man.” She hears Tank’s voice from outside the door and rolls her eyes.
“Can’t sleep?”
“No,” She sighs and gets out of bed, opening the door to find him standing outside it with two bowls of ice cream.
“Me neither.” He grins, and she takes the bowl from him, walking to his living room.
“None of this makes any sense. He is telling me he killed six victims, and he is bragging about it. From what I know of profiling… Serial killers don’t brag about the number of people they kill. They are also overly careful in making contact, so why would he be taking the chance of contacting me directly and not going to a newspaper or more anonymous source?”
She turns to look at her friend and colleague who is sitting on the couch eating his ice cream.
“Oh, am I supposed to answer? Okay, well, I guess he sees you as an easy target first of all. Even though we know you aren’t.” He holds up his hand when she wants to jump in and defend herself.
“Secondly, I don’t think there is a recipe for being a serial killer. Except for what we know about them, like being abused as children or things like that, and unfortunately, all that usually only comes out after they are caught or right before they are caught. You know, when the professional profilers get involved.”
She thinks about what he said and flops down on the couch next to him. She feels that familiar electrical spark fly up to her body whenever she is near him but avoids it as she’s grown used to doing.
But, damn, there is no denying it. Tank is one of the sexiest men she’s ever met. With his well-built and perfectly toned and tanned body. His black hair and brown eyes… Focus, Gemma!
She digs into her ice cream, hoping it would cool down the hormones that jumped out of place. She should be thinking about her case right now and not about the man she literally felt for when she met him.
Her cheeks turn bright red as she remembers that first day when she walked into the precinct and tripped over her foot when he walked out of Cappie’s office. He caught her just before she fell flat on her face, and she felt the muscles in his arms move as he pulled her upright.
She nearly fainted like a damsel in distress!!!
“Earth to Gemma!”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. My mind is all over the place at the moment.”
He gives her his boyish grin, and she makes sure to look at her ice cream with great interest!
“I was saying that you can stay here as long as you need.”
She thanks him, but she needs to get back to her place, not just to avoid jumping him but also to prove to herself that she’s not going to let that bastard frighten her out of her own home.
“Cappie’s not going to be happy with that.” He lifts both his eyebrows.
“He will just have to deal with it.”
She stifles a yawn and gets up to rinse out her bowl when he takes it from her.
“Off to bed with you. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I can take care of this.”
After she finally falls asleep, it feels as if she’s hardly closed her eyes when her alarm goes off. She checks the time, and she has at least gotten three hours of sleep. A soft knock on the door makes her get up and shout for him to come in.
Luckily, she brought sweats and a tank-top to sleep in. Tank walks in with coffee in hand and greets her with a friendly smile. His hair is wet, and he smells of soap. He has probably already gone for a run, had some silly healthy sake, and taken a shower an hour ago already!
He is so in shape that she can’t imagine him living off take-out and coffee alone, as she does. There can’t be an ounce of fat on this man… Oh cr@p! She has to get out of here.
She thanks him for the coffee and rushes into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead.
***
When they walk into the station, she can hear the murmurs and rolls her eyes. It took forever to prove herself as tough as her mentor, and in one foul swoop, a damn killer has now made her look weak!
Cappie and Bulldog walk out of the morning briefing and meet them in the passage before walking to Cappie’s office. She has to give her statement over again, and Cappie rubs his chin the entire time, intently listening to every detail.
“Are you sure that is everything? You haven’t left anything out?”
“No, Sir! That’s everything!”
“Okay, okay, calm down. I’m just doing the job, girlie. We are going to move you to a safe house, and you are off this case. I don’t want Bada*s in my office screaming because we let something happen to her protégé!”
“Excuse me? With all due respect, Sir, but no! We don’t know how long this thing could drag out for, and I’m not going to let him make me look like a victim! The killer made contact with me for some reason. I want to use that to our advantage as best we can. He is also watching me. If we change anything now… He might change his M.O., and we will never catch him.”
Cappie thinks for a moment, and he doesn’t look too happy about it, but he agrees. She can stay in her apartment, but he wants an officer with her at all times. This infuriates her because she feels as if he hasn’t listened to a word she said.
“Sir, he knows everything about me! He is watching my place, and having an officer at home twenty-four-seven is not going to work!”
Cappie sighs, and she can see that she’s won this argument.
“Then we will just have to find another way to handle this, but I’m not letting you stay in your apartment alone!”
“URGH!” She barges out of his office without thinking and walks over to her table.
This has not been the best start to her day, but at least that part is over. She has no idea how they are going to get someone to stay with her without the killer noticing or suspecting something. He was in her apartment. That much she knows, which means he has probably bugged the place.
Why her?
And why boast about his record? When they catch him, she will have his confession to all the killings. Unless, of course, he is so confident that he thinks they will never catch him.
Tank comes walking down the passage, shaking his head.
“So, what are we doing first, partner?”
She looks up with a scowl on her face.
“What do you mean? This is my case. I work alone.”
“Not anymore. Cappie said either I work with you, or you’re off the case. Orders from Bada*s herself.” He grins at her, and she rolls her eyes.
“Are you serious? Did he actually call her?”
Tank nods, and if he didn’t have ears, his grin would be going right around his damn head. She sighs knowing that there is no way out of it if her mentor agrees with her current captain. Sitting down at her desk, she shows Tank a chair and starts to go through what she already has with him.
Maybe a fresh set of eyes can see something she’s missed. She planned to start interviewing friends and family of the girls they’ve identified, and Tank agrees that they should start there.
He also requests that one of the desk officers start a search for missing girls that fit the same description as the victims. Grabbing her jacket, she follows him to the squad car, and they drive out to the parents of the first girl.
She hates this part of the job. Crying families who think that their children could do no wrong, and when the truth comes out, she is the one who has to inform them that they never really knew their child.
In this case, they found a well-known substance in the girl’s blood work that is used by men in clubs, and she is not looking forward to telling the parents that their daughter was out clubbing. They probably think she was studying or something innocent like that.
They step up to the porch and ring the doorbell.
- Writer
