Chapter Three

Three Months Later

Andrew hung on the edge of sleep, not wanting to wake from the dream. Or rather, the recalled memory. Instead, he concentrated on Kyler's warm, smooth skin underneath his fingertips and the way the heat of his body surrounded Andrew, making him feel things he hadn't ever before. Emotions ran deep, pushing everything else to the back of his mind as if Kyler was medicine for his soul.

He thought becoming a small-town cop would be the thing that would lighten up the nightmares. So far, Pickleville hadn't done a damn thing for his stress level. The only thing that had made him feel even just a little bit of comfort was the memory of their one night together.

In his dream, Kyler held the nape of his neck, dragging Andrew down until their breaths mingled and their foreheads touched. Andrew pushed into Kyler, chasing something that went beyond an orgasm and straight into forgetting about the things he'd seen—victims he'd left behind when he quit being a detective and cases that had gone cold.

The phone ringing popped his sleep bubble, and Kyler's tan skin faded. His warmth turned into the heat of Andrew's own body and the blankets covering him. He sighed and reached over to the bedside table. He didn't bother opening his eyes but felt around until he hit something that felt like a phone. He lifted the receiver and put it to his ear.

He'd gotten plenty of wake-up calls when he'd been a city detective, so he knew what it meant. He never expected to get so many in Pickleville, though. Hell, he couldn't hear music coming from downstairs, which meant TJs bar had closed already. "Martinez."

"We got another one. This time at the liquor store."

Andrew started speaking in Spanish as if on autopilot. Spanish was the very first language he had ever learned, and it flowed naturally from his tongue. He stopped mid-sentence when he realized he spoke to his very English-speaking co-worker. "I'll be right there."

Andrew ended the call and sat up, pushing the blankets away as he stood. He always kept a change of clothes nearby for late-night emergencies. Criminals didn't give a shit what time it was or that Andrew had a difficult time sleeping most nights. He hadn't slept well for years. Each murder allowed insomnia to creep under his skin until it made a home. Nothing would dislodge it.

Of course, quiet hadn't been the case in the last couple of months.

He walked to the chair in the corner and moved his badge aside to pick up the sweater that sat there, pulling it over his head. He grabbed socks and jeans next.

He stuffed the badge into his pocket and then went to the nightstand, pulling out his holstered gun. He preferred a shoulder holster. Most of the time, he had a sports jacket to cover it, but he didn't bother with it. Pickleville was cold enough that time of year to need a coat, and that was sufficient cover.

He grabbed his keys from the kitchen table on the way out. He always parked in the back because it had easy access to his apartment stairs, and no one ever came back there besides the bar's owner, Kendrick. The outside light created shadows on the other side of his car, but they were minimal.

He had to drive through town to get to the liquor store, and by the time he got there, Olivia had shown up, and so had an ambulance. She had on her uniform. The standard clothing for a cop in Pickleville made them look like deputies. Olivia was the only one who called Andrew boss instead of chief.

The liquor store was closed. It was dark inside except for the cooler lights illuminating just enough through the window to see the shadowy rows of shelves, but not their contents.

No cars were around that didn't belong to the police or first responders, except for the ambulance, which sat running but empty. The paramedics were out of sight, probably attending to the victim.

Andrew walked to Olivia, who had a half-empty bottle of liquor sitting on the hood of her police car. The bottle was inside a clear plastic bag. "What do we know so far?"

She wrote something on a small notepad and had on blue latex gloves. Her shaking hands were noticeable even with the gloves on. What she wrote came out jagged.

"It's Gina Michaels. I know her a little bit. She and my mom used to hang out when I was young. I'm still friends with Gina's daughter, Rachel. Gina started drinking years ago. It's a problem."

Olivia was the best cop he employed and the newest. She seemed to have a natural ability to read a situation, and she stayed calm under pressure. Everyone had a breaking point, though, and Olivia just might have reached hers.

"What can you tell me about the victim?" It was the same guy as the first time. He had a gut feeling.

Olivia seemed to understand that Andrew asked about the similarities between them. "She's got long, dark hair. Petite. Same as Melanie."

Pickleville didn't have the funds for a lab. Until the rapes, they hadn't had the crime to justify the expense anyway. Everything went through the state.

"Already on it. Mind if I take the evidence?" Olivia pleaded with her eyes.

"No, but give me time. There might be more." God, Andrew hoped the perpetrator had fucked up and left DNA behind.

Andrew patted her on the shoulder.

Olivia sighed. "It's just like the last one."

The few forensic clues they had would take months to process. Forensics would only get them so far. They'd do the leg work and find out who knew what. Because someone always knew something. Pickleville was a small town, after all. They'd build a case one clue at a time.

"Do you have a pair of gloves?" Andrew would use a fine-toothed comb if he had to, but he'd find something. He couldn't let the sicko get away with hurting someone else.

Olivia nodded to the passenger's seat of her car.

Andrew helped himself to what she had, grabbing a pair out of the box sitting on her seat and then headed to the victim. "The victim's in the back?"

"Yeah."

Andrew stopped and turned. "Olivia."

Olivia looked his way.

"This guy is making mistakes. We just have to find them." That was the tricky part. Primarily when the criminal used a date rape drug, and the victims rarely remembered the crime.

Olivia nodded and went back to what she was doing, which was avoiding having to see her friend's mother in the aftereffects of rape. "Foley's with the victim, boss."

Andrew raised a hand to indicate he heard her but didn't stop.

Lights from the street didn't reach the back of the building. Overgrown foliage blocked most of the view and made it difficult for the paramedics to work. He heard the first responders talking before he saw them.

He stood at the corner of the building, taking in the scene. The victim lay on the ground with a blanket over her bottom half and wore a white shirt that stood out in the dark. Her long dark hair fanned out across the dirt and clumps of grass, gathering dead leaves and twigs. She had tears smearing her makeup, and she shook. One of the paramedics was female, which probably was a good thing considering what some sick bastard had done to the poor woman.

Foley stood off to the side, letting the paramedics do their job. When he saw Andrew, he closed the distance between them. "Olivia found her. She heard her calling for help while on patrol. Thought you should know that upfront."

Olivia's reaction had made sense before, but the new information just made up Andrew's mind to assess Olivia's mental state with regards to the case. The problem was that Olivia was their only female cop, and if the rapes kept happening, they might need her to talk to victims. The last thing Andrew wanted was to traumatize the already traumatized officer further, so if that meant he'd have to take a step back and let someone else do it, then that was what would happen.

Andrew nodded and waited for Foley to continue. He noticed a cigarette butt a few feet from the victim where someone would have walked after leaving the scene. They'd stomped out the embers and left it sitting there. Evidence? Maybe, maybe not. It was worth collecting regardless.

"I'm listening." Andrew picked it up with his gloved hands and put it into a baggie.

"She said she was at Rumors in Harbor Shire. She went with a friend who left her there around midnight. She intended to get a ride home from a man named Wesley. She danced with him most of the night. Then they hooked up. Consensual and condom. After, they danced for a while. She used the bathroom while he grabbed more drinks. She met up with him again at the bar. She doesn't remember anything after that."

"Rumors is a club? Not a bar?"

"Yeah. It's a gay dance club, but everyone goes there. Good place, usually."

"Let Harbor Shire Department know the crimes extend there. I'll call the chief in the morning and touch base." That was a good thing because it meant Harbor Shire would work with them, giving them more manpower and resources.

"Did you ask her if she remembered someone lurking around?"

"Yeah. She said Wesley talked to someone who looked familiar, but she couldn't place him. She's sure she saw the stranger around Pickleville. I've got a description of the guy." It was more of a lead than they'd had before.

The first victim hadn't remembered anything other than he had missing teeth when he smiled. She had been too high and drunk. That had been three months ago, and he had hoped the perpetrator wouldn't try it again. Maybe biding his time. Perhaps he had to wait for a new stash of date rape drugs. Whatever the reason for the time gap, he was onto it again.

"Do you know what to do to follow up?" He hated asking. Foley had a good twenty years on Andrew, but he hadn't been a cop for long. He still had a lot to learn.

The paramedics lifted Gina onto a stretcher before rolling her down the narrow path. Foley and Andrew had helped at one point. The closer Andrew got, the more he saw Gina, or, rather, her wounds. She had a few cuts on her chest. Someone must have stabbed her. He wanted to get a better visual, but that meant pushing the blanket down. He'd have to wait for a medical report, which was better than causing her even more trauma.

Andrew and Foley helped load her onto the bus. The female paramedic went inside, talking to her while she continued to work.

Andrew handed the bagged cigarette butt to Foley. "Olivia's taking it and the bottle of liquor to state."

One lead and one potential didn't make a case they could bring to the district's attorney. They had to find more and quickly before someone else got hurt.

Andrew watched the ambulance as it rolled away. Two didn't make the guy a serial rapist, but Andrew suspected things were just getting started.

"Track down this Wesley guy and find out what he knows."

Foley sighed and ran a hand down his face. "In all my years, I ain't never wanted to hunt down someone, but I want to kill the bastard who hurt that poor woman."

Andrew shared the sentiment.