Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Frankie

"Okay. Let's go over everything we know about the crime scenes and the victims." Being back at work is just what I need after a long, sleepless night without Damien's arms around me.

Whenever my personal life is in doubt, work is always here to comfort me, to provide me with a purpose and something to focus on other than feeling unwanted.

Or used.

I shake off that pathetic thought and bring my focus back to the empty room the chief's gifted us. The room is small, barely bigger than an actual shoebox but it's plenty for me and Jay to set up a command center.

The white board sits at one end of the room where I have photos of all the victims so far and what we know about them. The cork board on the other end of the room contains all the physical evidence that connects them. "So far we've got that they're men and all locals of southern California."

"That's good, though. It means that our killer is very likely a local." Not that it's a big help since there are about five million males in the L.A. County but it is a good start. "Anything pan out yet with the anonymous groups?"

"Not yet," Jay sighs. "It's slow going on my own but now that you're back, we can hit that lead a little harder."

Guilt eats at me for leaving for three days in the middle of an active investigation, but even though he seems to have disappeared on me, Damien was right. I feel refreshed and reinvigorated, ready to hit the ground running. I also feel immense relief that no other bodies dropped while I was away. "Sorry. I just needed to get away and clear my head for a few days."

"We've all been there," Jay offers with a sympathetic smile. "After the thing with the cameras, I certainly don't blame you. Now," he says because that's about as emotional as Jay ever gets before he turns back to work. "Our victims?"

I nod, happy to get back to work rather than think about the fact that maybe the getaway and living with Damien is me overstaying my welcome. He's the one who made the offer, but he's also the one who didn't come home last night. "Our victims all attended different colleges or trade schools if they went. Don't frequent the same bars and they don't even live near one another."

"Are you sure?" Jay's brows dip the way they do when he's deep in thought.

"Positive. I spoke to each institution myself to confirm. A few went right into the workforce, but even professional certifications required for those jobs showed no overlap." It's frustrating as hell and it seems impossible that these guys don't overlap at all. "It's almost as if they're all going out of their way to not overlap. Wait," I say absently and pick up a stack of papers. "Beaumont, victim three and Petrovic, number five, went to the same gym for about two months before Petrovic built the gym in his home."

"Then we'll comb through their financials to see if any memberships overlap—porn sites, online subscriptions, gaming services, and stuff like that. Should be easy since the younger generation live their entire lives online."

I raise my eyebrow at Jay. "And you don't have any of those memberships yourself?"

He grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile. "I guess I do have a few subscriptions, but it's not like I live online."

I scoff at my grumpy partner. "Okay, then. I'll go talk to the DA to subpoena the financials for our victims."

Jay nods. "I have an appointment I have to keep and then I'll hit up a few more support groups on the west side. I'll bring dinner back unless Loverboy is going to surprise us with some fancy food?"

"Dinner sounds good. I vote for tacos with lots of salsa and guacamole, thanks." I ignore the part about Damien as well as the curious look Jay shoots my way.

"Trouble in paradise?" His tone is more sympathetic, which pisses me off for some reason.

"No," I sigh. "I don't know. Maybe I need to find another place to stay." We're not even in the living together state to already be living together.

"He has other houses he can go to," Jay says. "He made the offer and it's better to keep you there than take men off the street to watch after you."

All good points. "Right." I shake my head. "Forget about it. I'll make it work." I have to. The last thing I want is for the citizens of my city to be left unprotected simply because I'm having a something with my boyfriend. Is he even my boyfriend or just a man I'm sleeping with? "Go. Do your thing that you're being super secretive about. I'll dig into how our victims spent their money."

Jay waves a hand to signal his agreement.

I stand and grab my blazer off the back of my wobbly desk chair. "Hey."

Jay stops at the door and turns slowly, one brow lifting higher than the other. "Yeah?"

"You good? I mean you have a doctor's appointment, right?" My heart constricts because I know the only reason Jay is going to a doctor is because something is wrong.

"Did I say doctor's appointment?"

"No," I sigh and narrow my gaze at him. "But you're being squirrely."

"Or maybe it's none of your business, kid."

"Maybe," I concede even though that hurts. "Or maybe I don't want to be blindsided by someone else I love leaving me." I turn away because I don't want him to see how worried I am.

"Shit, Frankie. I didn't mean it like that."

I sneakily wipe my eyes and turn back to him with a blank expression. "Don't worry about it, Jay. You're right, it's none of my business."

"Frankie," he begins again but I don't want to hear it.

"It's fine. I need to go." I brush past him and head out of the precinct, walking fast to get some distance from my emotions. The city's hustle and bustle help shake off the feeling that I'm being ridiculous over a guy.

I make my way to the courthouse to get a subpoena for the victims' financial records. It'll keep me busy and distract me from the fact that Damien avoids coming home just to stay away from me. And then there's Jay—he's got something on his mind but won't share, which is his choice, but it still stings.

The case is frustrating; we're no closer to catching the killer than we were after the first body. But as the minutes go by, I focus on the work.

Not Damien and the things he said to me, the way he made me feel up in Napa. I told him I loved him—something I meant but maybe shouldn't have said. His reaction was a clear "no fucking thanks." He doesn't want my love, and that's fine. I'm not the type to force my feelings on someone who doesn't want them.

I'll keep my feelings in check and enjoy whatever time we have left. No more, no less.

Even back at the penthouse I manage not to stress about the fact that Damien doesn't come home—again—and instead, pore over the details of the case. I'm desperate to find a thread that ties them together in some way because it's going to be that little string that leads us to their killer.

When the sun rises on another day, I don't feel any better about anything, but I put on a good mask and head into the office, ready to get back to work.

"Morning," Jay mumbles when I walk into our new temporary office space.

I feel his gaze on mine, wondering if I'm still upset about yesterday but I don't give an inch. "Good morning." I sound unusually chipper as I unload the files I printed last night. "I think we ought to brainstorm with Amelia and Nate about the victims. Clearly, we need more heads on this."

Jay's brows pull into a frown. "Yeah? Because I was thinking that maybe we take a break for a few hours and focus on the cameras found at your place. Maybe if we can trace them or figure out who did that, it might get us closer to the killer."

"If it's the killer and not just some nutjob who's been following the murders on the news." The local news has made me the face of the investigation, so every wannabe sleuth has someone to fixate on. I stop what I'm doing and look at Jay. "Have you found anything traceable?"

"No," he grunts. "Not one goddamn thing. Whoever did it is good. Really good."

"Just like the killer," I mumble. "The killer isn't coming after me, he just wants me scared so I think we should focus on victimology. Amelia or Nate might have some insight. Chris did."

"Fine." He's not happy about it but Jay knows where our priority has to be with the Chief on a rampage about our lack of progress on these murders. It didn't matter than until two days ago he refused to say serial killer out loud, today the press is using that phrase and he's hellbent on us solving these crimes yesterday.

"Great. I'll call Amelia and you reach out to Nate." Before he can say anything else, I pick up my phone and shoot off a quick text message which Amelia responds to right away. "She's on her way."

"Look, kid. About yesterday."

I raise my hand to stop his words. "Don't worry about it, Jay. You were right. It's none of my business." Just because he's like family to me doesn't make me privy to all of his secrets. "We're good."

"Frankie, come on."

"I'm serious, Jay. Your health problems or whatever are your business and if you choose to share them or not, that's your choice. I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle whatever comes." I'm not sure if I can handle it or not, but I'll have to so I will. "Did you find anything out last night?"

"Yeah," he grunts. "None of the anonymous groups keep an actual membership list so we're shit outta luck since none of our vics are gonna show up. Spent all night going through calendars and shit to see if they had any hours blocked off on the same dates or times. Came up with fuck all."

"Okay. I hate to say it, but I think our next step has to be dating apps."

Jay groans and it makes me chuckle. "Fucking shit, Frankie. Just shoot me in the ass right now."

A knock sounds on the door a second before it opens to reveal a uniformed officer with an uncertain smile. "There's a delivery for you, Detective DeMarco."

A delivery guy appears with several large boxes that require my signature. Before the pen is in my hand, I can smell the scent of bacon and maple syrup. "I didn't order any food."

"I just make the deliveries, lady." He impatiently motions for me to sign for receipt, which I do. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"Right." I grunt at his retreating form while Jay quickly opens the first box with a giddy laugh.

"I guess you and Richie Rich made up?" The gleeful expression on his face is too much to bear.

I flip him the bird.

"Guess so. Thank God because this food is top tier."

I roll my eyes just as Amelia arrives, Nate coming minutes later to pitch in on our brainstorming session. "If you said there would be food, I'd have come quicker," Amelia says as she sets her laptop down and attacks another box of food.

"Same," Nate says, making a sandwich from the pastries and breakfast meats, a wide smile on his face. "So, what do you need from me?"

I sigh and explain the lack of connection between the victims. "We need ideas." I point to the boards where the victims are displayed. "They all attended schools in L.A. unified school district but not the same schools, no overlapping sports where they would have played against one another."

"I have some thoughts," Amelia begins, still chewing a bite of food. With a sheepish smile, she continues chewing while we all wait. "Okay. Sorry about that, but I've been looking into the victims."

"Victim blaming?" Nate scoffs and there's tension in his words.

Amelia narrows her gaze. "Hardly, but we're not going to catch this guy if we pretend the victims were all angels, right?" She doesn't let Nate finish before turning to me and Jay. "These guys are all flawed, right?"

"They're men," I say in response.

"Aren't we all?" Jay adds with a teasing smile.

"Right. But I've gone through their criminal histories and none of them are criminal masterminds, but not one of them is squeaky clean, either." She looks down at her tablet, scrolling through the pages. "Driving under the influence, domestic violence, battery and harassment. Other than a few nights in jail, they've never served time, so they weren't locked up together, but this is where there is some overlap. In actions rather than places."

The room is silent.

"It's just a thought." Amelia shrugs and reaches for a croissant.

"No," I begin, my curiosity piqued. "It's a good thought." I flip through the files compiled on each of the victims. "They haven't served time together or even shared a probation officer, so what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that they all show signs of troubled upbringings, and maybe that's why we can't put two and two together." Amelia's flare for the dramatic is on full display as she lets the silence hang in the air. "Because juvenile files are sealed."

This time, the silence stretches on. "Damn, Doc." Jay's grin is infectious. "You really are more than a pretty face."

Amelia batted her eyelashes. "I can't confirm, but it's just a thought I had."

I glance down at the clock, noting that the prosecutor overseeing this case is in court until five. "I'll reach out to the prosecutor before I head home. Maybe we can get the records tomorrow."

"We should see if any of their known associates from childhood have medical or forensic knowledge," Nate adds. "The scenes are unusually clean for just some asshole who gets off on torturing and murdering people." He's shaking his head. "Not even a fucking fingerprint or hair," he grumbles.

"Okay, that's good," I say as I jot down more notes. "This has been incredibly helpful," I assure both Amelia and Nate. "Thank you and if you have any other ideas or suggestions, feel free to pass them along. It's going to take all of us to catch this fucker." Of that I'm confident.

Briefly my thoughts drift to Damien, wondering why after two days of radio silence, he would send breakfast to the precinct. It is a sweet gesture, but it doesn't make sense when he's avoiding his own damn penthouse just to avoid seeing me.

Court is running late when I finish up for the day, so I head to the penthouse and make a note to speak with the prosecutor first thing in the morning.

It's time I start making some plans to look out for myself.