Chapter 9

Gray was running. The woods were dark. Where was his dad? Somewhere on the path ahead? No, his dad wasn't there anymore. He was long gone. Wasn't he?

A scream. A young girl's scream. Not another one, please not another one, I've got to stop him, got to get there in time.

He ran faster, but he didn't seem to be getting anywhere, the woods didn't change. Then he saw a shadowy figure, a man with a hoodie and… a knife? "Dad?"

The man looked at him, but his face was all shadow as if there were nothing under his hood.

The girl screamed again. Suddenly she was right in front of the man.

"Nancy?" Gray called.

She didn't answer. She just kept screaming. The man raised his knife.

"No!" Gray shouted, but he couldn't move. He wasn't running anymore. He was rooted to the spot.

"Help me!" the girl screamed.

Gray sat up gasping. The room was dark. He looked from side to side. No one was there except Mason, who was soundly sleeping. Jack was out working the night shift. Gray kicked the tangled sheets from his legs, shivering as he stood though he was covered in sweat. He fought the urge to search the house as if the murderer and Nancy were there. Or maybe his father.

He shook his head, wanting the images to go away. A dream. That's all it was. Why had his father been mixed up in it, though? Because of the cabin. The woods in his dream were the ones surrounding the campsite where he'd vacationed with his parents.

You had no idea what to do then either. Just like you don't know how to find the killer now.

Fuck. Shut the fuck up. He wanted to scream at the voice in his head, the one that wrecked his confidence. But the voice was right, wasn't it? He hadn't known what to do when he was twelve and found out his father was a piece of shit, and he had yet to figure out a way to prevent more young women from being murdered. He felt so fucking helpless, just like in his dream. All he'd done for the last week was run in place. He had to find the girl Vandal had told him about or find Vandal and shake him until he talked.

He glanced at himself in the mirror over the sink. He looked like shit, and he was doing a shit job. How the fuck could he leave and go on a vacation, a vacation where he would probably just have more nightmares? He'd have to tell Jack and Mason they needed to cancel.

And then he'd have to pretend he didn't feel relieved.

Gray turned over and rubbed his eyes, trying to pull himself from sleep. He had that weighted feeling where the bed seemed to suck him in, and getting up was more of a fight than he was up for. It had taken forever for him to fall back asleep after his nightmare. Now he wished he'd just stayed up.

He grabbed his phone and turned it on to see the time. The light from the screen stung his eyes. He blinked a few times and then the numbers registered: 8:03.

Fuck!He was late. Just what he needed.

He heard Mason stirring in the kitchen. Why the hell hadn't Mason woken him? By the time he hurried through his shower, dressed, and started looking around for his computer bag—where the hell had he left it?—Jack was coming in the door.

"Gray, what are you still doing here?"

"Good question. Ask Mason since he didn't bother waking me," Gray snapped.

Mason looked up from his bowl of cereal. "How was I supposed to know you expected a wakeup call?"

"Because I have to be at work at eight." There was his bag, by the TV.

"I figured you were going in late," Mason said.

"Right, with two unsolved murders and more maybe to come, I thought I'd just sleep in."

Jack tossed his backpack on a chair. "I had a shit night. I really don't need this."

"Yeah, neither do I. What I need is to get to work and find a fucking motive or a fucking suspect or something to solve this fucking case, but since I haven't, I won't be able to go on our little trip."

"What?" Jack said.

"I can't go on vacation when lives are on the line."

"Wait, I don't?—"

"Just cancel the reservation."

"It's not for another week," Mason said.

"So sorry murder doesn't work on your timeline."

Mason recoiled as if he'd been physically struck.

"You're just trying to make an excuse." Jack's face was red with anger, his fists balled at his side. "You never wanted to go."

His anger pushed at Gray, calling him to strike back. "Yeah, because I have a job to do." Gray slammed the door behind him and immediately wished he had to courage to open it back up and apologize. What the fuck was he doing? The dream had really fucked him up.

Go in there and tell them you love them. Tell them the whole fucking story.

But he didn't. He was already late and… he was a fucking coward.

Gray had spent the morning trying to determine the identity of the young woman who'd told Vandal her secrets. But all he had to go on was arrest records and rumors about "Billy's girls." He'd called and texted Vandal and gotten no response. He'd even sent uniforms to check his typical haunts, but they hadn't had any luck.

His mind wandered as he stared at his notes. The girls who died were probably a lot like Nancy. Most of them probably felt like they didn't have any other choice, like no one would help them. Until Gray was assigned to the first murder, he hadn't thought about Nancy in years. He knew that, realistically, there wasn't much he could have done for her, especially without any adults on his side, but he still felt like he'd failed her. He wouldn't fail these girls, neither the dead ones who needed justice nor the living ones who were potential victims.

He startled when his phone rang. Bryce's name showed on the screen. He slid his thumb to answer. "What's up?"

"I wanted to give a heads-up," Bryce said. "A call has gone out for a fire, a big one, at Billy Andreas's compound."

"Oh fuck. Do you know any details, whether anyone is suspected to be inside?"

"Nope, just the location."

"Okay. I'd better go. Thanks."

He wasn't going to make it home for dinner. Not like he'd knew what the fuck to say to Jack and Mason anyway. Jack had the night off if Gray remembered correctly. He and Mason would have plenty of time to talk about how much of an ass Gray had been.

As he headed to Thornton's office, he sent Mason a text. Fire at Andreas house. Home late. That would have to do for now.

When Gray and Thornton pulled up at the scene half an hour later, the flames were out, but smoke still rose into the darkening sky. They got out of the car, flashed their badges at the uniformed officers who were keeping onlookers back, and crossed the barrier.

Thornton approached the chief, waiting while he talked into his radio. When he looked their way, Thornton said, "What can you tell us?"

The man frowned. "We're trying to keep this quiet for now, but we've got four bodies in there. One might be Andreas himself."

"And the others, any idea who they are?"

He shook his head. "They're too badly burned to ID, but one body is most likely an adult male. The others are smaller, possibly older kids."

The lunch Gray had eaten hastily formed a lump in his stomach. His phone buzzed, interrupting his morbid thoughts. It was Vandal.

He pointed to his phone. "It's an informant. I've got to take it."

Thornton nodded.

"Is it true? Did Andreas's house just burn down?" Vandal asked as soon as Gray answered.

"Part of it's still standing, but yeah." It wasn't like the fire could be kept secret. News crews had been on the scene since before he'd arrived.

"Was Billy there? Was anyone else?"

"I can't discuss that."

There was a long pause. Gray was worried Vandal would hang up, but finally, he said, "It's like Jenna said, this guy is out for revenge on Billy."

"Jenna. So that's her name."

"Um… yeah. She's going to call you. You've got to listen to her."

Gray tensed. He needed to keep Vandal on the line. "I'll call her now if you'll give me her number."

"Can't do that. But she'll call you. I promise."

"Just give me her contact information. You know me. I won't share it."

Vandal ended the call.

Gray called back, but Vandal didn't answer.

Bryce and his supervisor from the fire marshal's office walked Gray and Thornton through the scene and explained their observations. Based on what he could tell from a visual, the victims had been dead before the fire started. They wouldn't know for sure, though, until CSIs swept the scene and the ME got a look at the bodies.

A ring found next to the largest body indicated that it was Andreas. But there weren't any obvious clues to help them identify the others.

Gray hadn't gotten sick at a crime scene since he was a rookie, but the sight—and smell—of what was most likely the remains of three young girls did him in.

As he tried to recover his equilibrium, he wracked his brain for an explanation. Gray could understand Andreas being murdered; there were plenty of reasons for someone wanting him dead. But how could someone believe these girls deserved such a fate? Had the girls witnessed something? Was it punishment for their sins? As if the sins of those who pushed them toward such a life weren't worse.

"You don't look so good," Bryce said when Gray stepped out of the structure with Thornton.

Gray grimaced. "It will be a while before I'm over that."

"Yeah, that was a hard one."

Gray glanced toward the crime scene tape where the street was full of onlookers. "What a circus."

"Did you ride in with Thornton?" Bryce asked.

"Yeah."

"You want me to give you a ride?"

Gray nodded. No matter what Captain Russell might have to say, he was not talking to the fucking media hounds tonight. What he really wanted to do was go home, pretend he'd never had a fight with Jack and Mason, and drink himself into oblivion. Of course, if Jenna actually did call, then he'd need to be sober. After what he'd seen, he wasn't going to sleep, at least not peacefully, not even if he downed a whole bottle of whiskey.

When Bryce had negotiated his way through the crowd, he said, "Which way? I can take you home, back to the precinct, or we could get a drink?"

Gray should just go home, but he hadn't gotten any braver since that morning. Next to the media, the thing he wanted to avoid most was groveling to his partners.

Not wanting to run into a crowd of people they knew, Gray and Bryce avoided Nathan's and went to Undertow, where Gray agreed that some bacon-wrapped dates were just what he needed despite his stomach's reaction to the crime scene.

Gray got their beers while Bryce found a table.

"Sunday is Toby's birthday. He wants to have some people over. If you and the guys are free, he'd love to have you there."

"Yeah, that sounds good. If I'm not working. I've got to find a direction on this case." Before Bryce could respond, Gray's phone buzzed. He pulled it from his holster and glanced at it. Jack. He couldn't deal with him now. He stopped the phone from ringing and put it back on his belt.

"Nothing urgent?" Bryce asked.

"It's just Jack. I'll talk to him later when I get home."

Bryce's look was far too knowing. "What's wrong?"

Gray tried for an are-you-kidding-me expression. "The body count on my cases is up to six. I've got no solid leads. The guy everyone hoped to pin the first two murders on is now dead, and I just had to see four charred bodies."

Bryce wasn't the least ruffled by Gray's tirade. "That's not what I meant."

"You aren't trying to get me to talk about my love life, are you? If I'd known this was girl-talk hour, I would've gone back to the precinct."

"Do you need to talk?"

"What's with you? I used to count on you not to get mushy on me."

Bryce laughed at him. The bastard. "Ah, as defensive as always. And I hate to remind you that you're the one who forced me to see how much I love Toby and Matt."

Gray scowled. "That was an aberration. I was clearly having an off day."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm supposed to go on a trip with them next weekend. And now…"

"They'll understand about the case."

"You'd think." That wasn't fair. He'd been an ass about it. If he'd waited and talked to them when none of them were pissed off or in a rush, things would've gone much better. "I didn't want to go to start with."

Bryce nodded, obviously getting it now. "Ah."

"I had a good reason."

Bryce took a slow sip of his beer, watching Gray the whole time. "But something's still bothering you."

Gray should have gone back to the precinct. "Since when did you become a fucking shrink?"

"Since I worked on my communication skills like you told me to."

"Never listen to me. I'm usually just saying shit."

"You don't have to talk. We can just drink and try not to think too hard about the shit we just saw."

"Asshole."

Bryce just grinned.

"I took a trip to the mountains with my family when I was twelve, and… things didn't go well. I haven't been back since."

Bryce nodded. He must have sensed that he shouldn't push for details.

"Jack and Mason will know I didn't make up the fire, as if I'd wish for that kind of excuse."

"But…"

Fuck, Bryce was perceptive. "They'll still be disappointed, and I was kind of an ass this morning."

"Kind of?"

Gray chose to ignore that. "This has been a shitty week. I can't solve this case and now there are more bodies and I feel like it's all my fault."

Bryce didn't piss him off by trying to reassure him. He just waited for Gray to continue.

"And now I pushed Jack and Mason away when what I really want to do is take care of them, not disappoint them." God, he sounded like a whiny fool.

"So why are you here instead of home apologizing?"

Gray took a long, slow breath, then let it out. "Because I'm an idiot."

Gray's phone buzzed. Maybe it was Jack again. Instead, he saw a text from an unknown number. This isJenna. Meet me. Park on Orange. Picnic hut.

"It's my informant. I need to go."

Bryce nodded. "I'll drive you to your car. Do you have backup?"

"No. She'll run if she thinks anyone else is involved."

"Gray."

"I'll be fine. I've got to talk to her now."

"Jack and Mason would prefer you alive so they can get an apology."

Gray wanted to fucking punch Bryce, but he was right. So instead, he pulled out his phone as he settled into the passenger seat of Bryce's truck and called Thornton.

He answered on the first ring and Gray explained the situation. "The informant I've been waiting on called. I'm meeting her at the picnic hut in the park on Orange Ave. If she sees anyone else, she'll take off."

"Stall for fifteen. I'll have someone in place."

"Thanks."

"If she's legit, get everything you can. I just met with the ME. The larger body was Andreas. The others were all girls, probably all sixteen years old or less."

"Fucking fuck." Gray didn't care what it took. They had to stop this killer.