“I never thought there was a killer out there who could scare me more than Kiss-Me-Not,” Lindsay murmured.  She sat on the old, faded sofa, her shoulders slumped and her brown eyes rimmed with red and deep, dark circles.  She looked like she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days… maybe weeks. 

 The psychiatrist tilted his head.  “Does he?”

 “Scare me?” Lindsay asked.  “Yes,” she whispered.  Hell yes, her thoughts added.

 “He’s made it personal.”

 “So did Harris.  He killed my father.”

 “But this is different,” the shrink pointed out gently.

 “Yeah.” Lindsay’s voice was a faint imitation of itself.  “This one is different.” 

 Lindsay stood, crossing to the window before sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.  She looked out over the city, the city it was her sworn duty to protect, and felt like a failure.  She didn’t care about the majority of the people going about their lives below, even though any one of them could be the Hallelujah Man’s next victim.  Today her thoughts were only for three people.  Three women she’d left surrounded by death in her attic.

 Lindsay felt like a coward coming here, like she was weak.  But she couldn’t unburden herself on her friends and her lover. Not after what happened to Jill.  There was too much emotion, too much guilt for them to deal with her coming apart at the seams now, even though they all knew she was unraveling… that she’d be unraveling for years.  Did Jill, Claire and Cindy see she was hanging on by a thread now?  If they did, none of them were calling her on it.

 Cindy had been unusually quiet since the night she and Jill were attacked.  The reporter was spending a disturbing amount of time up in the attic, and Lindsay found herself in the odd position of seeing how obsessed she must have looked to Tom and her friends with the Kiss-Me-Not case.  It seemed like fitting karma that she should watch someone she loved withdraw further and further, sinking down into the mind of a killer in order to stop him.

 And Lindsay had no idea what to say, what to do, to make it better.  Especially when witnessing Cindy’s obsession only fueled Lindsay’s own desire to stop Arnold to a deadly degree.  She could only watch and go down that dark tunnel with her lover, holding her hand when necessary and chasing after Arnold’s shadow.

 Everything would go back to the way it was if she could just catch the bastard.

 “What are you thinking about right now?”

 Lindsay rolled her eyes at the question.  “A friend.”

 “DDA Bernhardt?”

 Lindsay counted to ten and weighed her answer.  “My girlfriend.”  She glanced back at him, expecting a reaction, but he simply looked at her with polite interest.  She was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t shocked him.

 “What about her?” He asked mildly.

 Lindsay leaned against the windowsill.  “The case is taking a lot out of her.”

 “Is she another police officer?”

 Lindsay shook her head.  “Although she’d make a damn good one,” she said with a faint smile.

 He leaned forward.  “So why were you thinking of her just now?”

 The inspector took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Every case steals something from you.  Most of the time, it’s a tiny piece of your soul.  When you’re lucky and you catch the guy, you see the family get closure, you might get that piece back.”

 “Most of the time?”

 Lindsay’s gaze went inward.  “But sometimes you lose more.  Sometimes a case takes someone you love… takes you away from someone you love.”

 “Is this case taking you away, Lindsay?” 

 “It has on occasion,” Lindsay admitted.  “But I’m afraid… I’m afraid of what it’s doing to her.”

 “So she’s somehow involved in the investigation?” He guessed.

 Lindsay nodded as she watched him scribble down more notes.  She really wished he wouldn’t do that.  It made her feel even more self-conscious than she already was.  Sighing, she turned her gaze back to the window.  “He’s out there somewhere,” Lindsay finally continued when the shrink’s silence got to be too much.  She thought too much in the silences.  It was better to keep talking, keep moving.

 “I suspect so.” 

 “I know his name, his face, where he lives.  I shot him twice.  Twice.”  Lindsay fixed her gaze on the Golden Gate Bridge some distance away on the horizon as she braced her hands on either side of the windowpane.  “Why haven’t I found him?  Where is he?”

 The psychiatrist leaned back and watched her.  Fatigue was etched in every line of her body and yet she still fidgeted, still possessed the reckless urge to move, to act.  “And what will you do if you catch him?”

 “I will catch him.”  Lindsay’s voice was cold as she turned to look at him.  “It’s just a matter of time.”

 “Okay.  What will you do when you catch him?”

 Lindsay had to look away.  She couldn’t reveal her plans for David Arnold, plans that involved her putting one more bullet in the bastard.  He’d pay for hurting Jill… for hurting Cindy.  “My job,” she finally answered, but it felt like a lie.

 “That’s the most important thing to you, isn’t it?  Your job?”

 The question sent Lindsay into chaos as her heart and mind warred with each other.  “Used to be,” she murmured.  The inspector fell silent, unwilling to say more on the matter.

 “How is Deputy District Attorney Bernhardt doing?” The doctor astutely changed the subject after jotting some notes on the pad of paper resting in his lap.

 “She’s fine,” Lindsay replied tightly, cursing herself for coming here and feeling way out of line for even talking about Jill with this man.  Her gaze landed on the door as she considered walking out.

 “Are you sure about that?”

 Lindsay spun to look at him more fully.  “She’s my best friend.  I would know if she’s fine or not.”  He merely regarded her placidly, and something about his lack of reaction grated on Lindsay’s nerves.

 “You don’t know.  Do you?” He asked carefully.  “Just like you don’t know where Arnold has gone to ground.”

 Lindsay swallowed hard and mentally cursed the man for reading her so accurately.  It was unnerving, someone knowing her so well just by what she said or didn’t say.  “She won’t talk about it.  Not even to Claire.”

 “Is Claire someone she trusts absolutely?”

 The inspector nodded.  “No one keeps a secret like Claire.  No one keeps a confidence like she does.”

 “Then how do you know Jill hasn’t talked to her?”

 Lindsay frowned then glanced at the doctor again.  There was a slight teasing tone to his voice, and her body relaxed marginally in reaction to it.  He had a point.  “Touché.”

 He smiled and dipped his head in response.  “Inspector,” he said slowly.  “You’ve had an unimaginable year.  The end of the Kiss-Me-Not case, the death of your father, another serial killer to contend with, and now the abduction of one of your closest friends.”  He waited until Lindsay looked at him with dark, haunted eyes before he motioned her toward the couch again.  “You would have to be crazy not to want to talk to a shrink.  Your being here is a good sign.”

 Lindsay stared at him for almost a minute before snorting.  She didn’t sit, however, choosing to look back at the view, a soft sigh escaping her as she did so.  “I’m not sure I can do this,” she confessed in a hushed voice.

 “Do what?  This session?”

 The inspector shook her head.  She looked at the floor and took a breath, finally admitting something that had kept her up at night since Jill’s abduction two weeks ago. 

 “I’m not sure I can keep being a cop.”

 ****

 David didn’t understand.

 Was it a test from God that he felt so much pain?  He’d been forced to remove the bullet from his own side.  The other had passed cleanly through his shoulder.  His training as a paramedic had come in handy, but his lack of access to medication had made practicing his skills an experience in sheer agony.

 “Oh God,” he cried out as he knelt in the small, empty chapel.  “Why have thou forsaken me?” 

 David thought of Jill Bernhardt.  He’d failed to save her.  Was this his punishment?  This endless pain?  The growing infection that was beginning to contaminate him from the inside out?  The wound at his side was an angry red.  He needed antibiotics.  He needed food.

 Tonight, David decided, he would have both.  He would do what it took to procure them.  And when his strength returned, Jill Bernhardt would be delivered to the Lord.  It was his only way to return to his Father’s good graces.

 “Thy will be done,” David promised.

 ****

 Act I

 The voice came to her faint and repetitive.  Some distant part of her realized it was her name being called, but Jill’s gaze was fixed on the photograph of the crucifixion at St. Vicente’s.  For hours she’d looked up into those anguished eyes and she’d prayed; prayed shamelessly to a God that she hadn’t known she’d still believed in until her life was in peril and her body was being endlessly abused.

 And her prayers had been answered.

 Jill was sitting there now, in Lindsay’s musty attic, the afternoon sun sheeting through the windowpane and warming her back nicely.  Four other victims hadn’t been as lucky.  It put the pain she was still enduring into perspective. 

 A paperclip struck her in the chest and Jill blinked, her head coming up in surprise.  Claire and Cindy were watching her, and it was clear by the grin on Cindy’s face that she’d been the one to get Jill’s attention.  “Huh?”

 “Well that was articulate,” Claire jibed before smiling and taking another sip of her cooling coffee.  “You were a million miles away, sweetheart.  You okay?”  She eased herself down on a stack of boxes and crossed her ankles.

 “Yeah,” Jill said, her voice husky.  She cleared her throat and slid the photograph inside a folder.  “Sorry.  Just blanked out there for a second.”

 “Claire and I can handle this,” Cindy offered, not for the first time that day, or that week even.  “You should be home resting.”

 Jill rolled her eyes.  “You try resting when there is some religious whack-job out there who might still want to kill you because of your sex life.”  There was no rebuke in Jill’s tone, just a statement of fact.  “I don’t understand how he’s managing to hide.  Where the hell is he?”

 Cindy plopped down on a rickety chair only to nearly hop out of it when it shifted and almost toppled her over backward.  She managed to right herself before smiling sheepishly at her grinning friends.  The reporter cleared her throat and tried to look like she didn’t feel like an idiot.  “We’ll find him.”

 Jill shook her head.  “I’m going crazy,” she announced.  “All I do is spend my days watching soap operas or looking at crime scene photographs.  Denise won’t let me come back until she gets the all clear from the doctor.”

 Cindy frowned.  “I thought your doctor gave you a clean bill of health… that all you were dealing with now was residual soreness and bruising.”

 Jill hesitated.  “Not that doctor,” she admitted before tapping her temple.

 “Really?” Claire drawled with interest.

 Both Claire and Cindy leaned forward, and Jill looked from one to the other in consternation.  “Hello?  Why is that so interesting?”

 “You’re seeing a shrink,” Claire pointed out.  “And you think that’s not interesting?”

 The attorney sighed.  “Denise insisted.”

 “You know,” Cindy said as she turned to look at Claire.  “I’m kind of starting to like Denise.”

 “Don’t you dare,” Jill warned her as she stood and stretched.  “Denise is sent from Satan to make my life hell.  Like her and you like the devil.”

 Claire grinned.  “She helped us find Arnold, kept you from quitting your job, is making sure you take care of yourself… yeah.  Denise is being a real witch,” Claire agreed mockingly.

 Jill’s answer was to stick her tongue out at one of her oldest friends. 

 A knock below had them all frowning.  One by one they descended from the attic and made their way to the front door.  Claire peered through the peephole then swore softly.

 “What?” Jill demanded.  She took a turn as well, peeking through the hole then leaning back to glance at Claire then Cindy.  “This is gonna stop.”  Jill yanked open the door, startling Pete Raynor so badly he jumped.  There was a bouquet of white roses in his hands.

 Pete froze when he saw the three women looking back at him.  Finally his face eased into an embarrassed smile.  “Hi.”

 “Look,” Jill said without preamble.  “It’s time to buy a clue.  Seriously, scone-boy, leave Lindsay alone.”

 Cindy swallowed and glanced between Claire and Jill, wishing she could just blend into the woodwork.

 “She’s the love of my life,” Pete started as if they should know that.

 “Sweetie.” It was Claire’s turn to talk.  “You knew her for two weeks.”

 “But…”

 “No,” Jill and Claire said at the same time. 

 Cindy thought it would have been funny if the whole situation didn’t make her feel so damn uncomfortable.  “Maybe you should leave,” she suggested timidly.

 “Is Lindsay here?” Pete asked, ignoring the reporter.  “Can I just talk to her for a minute?”  He started to step into the apartment.

 Cindy took a step back and both Claire and Jill noticed.  They stepped between the reporter and Lindsay’s ex-boyfriend, blocking his path. 

 Claire put a hand on his chest to stop his progress before he could cross the threshold.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said in her best “mom is not amused” voice.    “Lindsay has had a tough few months and she doesn’t need you adding to it.”

 “But I want to help,” Pete protested as his gaze went to Jill.  “I’ve come by your place a few times.  I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about what happened, that I’m glad you’re okay.”

 Jill’s blue eyes didn’t soften in the least.  “I appreciate that.”  There was a notable lack of sincerity in her voice.  “But, Pete, you and Lindsay are over.  You need to let things go.”

 “But I…”

 “Pete,” Jill’s voice hardened suddenly.  “Back off, or I’m going to get legal on your ass.”

 He frowned as his gaze went from one woman to the other.  None of them looked remotely friendly.  His eyes lingered on Cindy too long to be casually observing before he nodded once and held up his hands.  Pete smiled.

 “I’m leaving,” he announced breezily.  “Sorry to interrupt.”  He started to walk away.

 Cindy pushed between her friends and picked up the vase of flowers he’d left behind.  “Pete.”  He turned and she shoved the vase into his hands.  “Lindsay doesn’t want these.”

 His usually friendly eyes grew colder as his gaze locked with Cindy’s.  “I think Linz is just confused.  She’ll remember what she wants, eventually.  She just needs a little… persuading.”

 It felt like a threat.  Cindy knew she was overreacting, but the knowledge didn’t stop a chill from skittering down her spine.  “Leave her alone.”

 Pete just smiled as he dipped his head at them before leaving.

 Cindy stepped back in the apartment and closed and locked the door.

 “Jill,” Claire said after a lengthy silence among them.

 The attorney took in a slow breath and tamped down her anger at Pete.  “Yeah?”

 “Get legal on his ass anyway.”

 The attorney nodded in wholehearted agreement. 

 ****

 “Linz!”

 Lindsay pivoted on her heel and looked up.  She nodded as Tom beckoned her up only to wince when he disappeared back into his office.  “Great,” she grumped.  “What did I do now?”  With a quick glance around for her seemingly absent partner, Lindsay reluctantly climbed the steps and entered Tom’s office.  She was startled to find he wasn’t alone.

 A woman sat on the other side of Tom’s desk.  Her hair was a light, wavy brown that cascaded a few inches past her shoulders.  She was maybe thirty-five with an attractive profile and toned calves to die for on full display thanks to her knee-length dark skirt.  Something about her screamed “cop” as loud as a police wailer even if she wasn’t really dressed for chasing down perps. 

 “Linz,” Tom said with a smile.  “Meet Inspector Margaret Snow.”

 Lindsay blinked stupidly before shifting her gaze to the newcomer.  “Oh.  She’s… you’re…” Lindsay tried to make words come out of her mouth as the woman stood and offered her hand.

 “Starting here in homicide today,” Snow helped her out.  “Please, though, call me Maggie.”

 Her grip was as cold as her name and almost crushing, Lindsay thought.  She returned the gesture and pressure in equal measure as they sized each other up.  “Sorry.  I didn’t know we were getting someone new today.”

 “You should check your in-box from time to time,” Tom jabbed playfully.

 “After Arnold is in custody, I’ll get right on that,” Lindsay volleyed.

 Snow smiled.  Lindsay noticed she had what could only be described as arctic blue eyes, and she shook her head a little at her mind’s odd fixation on all things chilly this morning.  “Nice to meet you.”

 “Likewise.  Lieutenant Hogan has been telling me all about the case you’ve been working, the Hallelujah Man.”

 Lindsay eased her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, feeling a mild pang in her side where a bullet had grazed her two weeks earlier.  A flare of protectiveness rose over her case even though a half hour ago she’d been wondering if she could even do the job anymore.  If this woman thought she was going to make a name for herself in the department by coming in and trying to take over…  “Oh really?”

 Snow kept smiling.  “I imagine I’ll be working plenty of other cases, but if there is anything I can do to help… even if it’s to pull paperwork, let me know.”

 Lindsay hesitated, wondering if she should feel sheepish for her initial distrustful reaction, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.  She still wasn’t convinced this woman was honestly interested in helping anyone but herself.  Snow would get her chance to prove herself, but Lindsay didn’t trust blindly just because someone wore a badge.  What happened between Cindy and Graham had taught her that lesson loud and clear.  “Hopefully he’ll simply turn up dead in an alley somewhere.”

 “But you don’t think he will,” Snow guessed.

 Lindsay glanced at Tom before looking back at the newcomer.  “I think evil is harder to kill than we’d like.”

 Snow tipped her head at that.  “We had a killer like this guy in LA.  Murdered seven people before he was stopped.”

 “Hopefully our body count won’t get that high,” Tom added to the conversation.  “Linz put two bullet holes in him.  That’ll make it hard for him to snatch anyone, let alone torture them in the manner he prefers.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Snow agreed.  “Nice shooting, Tex.”

 Tex?  Lindsay’s eyebrows shot skyward, but she opted not to comment.  Instead, she glanced at Tom and smiled sweetly causing him to wince in reaction.

 “So…” Tom said nervously as he cleared his throat.  “Linz, why don’t you show Inspector Snow to her desk?  I put her in her Fong’s old chair.”

 At that moment, Lindsay actually missed Fong and his propensity to stare at her ass.  He’d moved to narcotics six weeks ago.  “Sure,” she said slowly.  Lindsay motioned toward the door and waited for Snow to walk out before looking back at Tom.

 “Tex?” Lindsay hissed in a harsh whisper.

 Her ex-husband just gave her a pained smile.

 Lindsay joined the new detective on the stairs. 

 “Nice place you guys have here.  The room has character.  I worked out of a cinder block building in LA,” Snow commented as they descended almost side-by-side.

 “We like it,” Lindsay replied, feeling inane.  She motioned toward an empty workspace.  “This is it.  Your new home away from home.”

 Snow dropped her purse in the chair and regarded the desk and the view she had of the bullpen.  “This will work quite nicely.”

 “I doubt you’ll be spending much time sitting here,” Lindsay informed her.

 “Wouldn’t be doing my job otherwise,” Snow agreed.  She looked at Lindsay.  “I meant what I said up there.  If there is anything you need with this serial killer case…”

 “Look,” Lindsay cut her off politely but firmly.  “I appreciate the offer, but this case isn’t about making a name for yourself.  It’s about stopping a killer.”

 “I get that,” Snow replied with the first edge to her voice that Lindsay had heard.  “But who says you can’t do both?”

 “I do,” Lindsay answered.  “I’m the primary on this case, and until that changes, I say what goes.  You got your ambitions to one day sit in Tom’s chair?  Fine.  But if your ambition crosses one of my cases, I’ll make sure you get busted back to uniform.  We clear?”

 Snow smiled.  “You don’t mess around, Tex.”

 “Don’t call me Tex,” Lindsay told her.

 “Linz then?” Snow asked cheekily.

 Lindsay smiled.  “Only my friends call me that.”

 “And your boss,” Snow added.

 Lindsay’s smile darkened.  “Something tells me you already know why he gets that privilege.”

 “A little friendly competition never hurt anybody,” Snow told her.  “Lighten up, Lindsay.  I’m still about finding justice for the victim first.  Ambition comes second.  And there is nothing wrong with having a little.”

 “Knock yourself out.”

 “You should be flattered,” Snow told her as Lindsay started to walk away.  “I only compete with the best.”

 Lindsay merely tossed a wave over her shoulder and kept going.

 “See you around, Tex,” the new inspector called after her.

 Lindsay’s teeth ground together but she didn’t respond.  She vowed that Snow better stay the hell out of her way.  Nothing and no one would come between Lindsay and her final showdown with Arnold.  A score needed to be settled, and Lindsay intended to settle it with a bullet.

 Everyone had best just stay out of the line of fire.

 ****     

 “Sit.”

 Cindy did as she was told.  When Claire commanded you like that you obeyed without question, even if it made you feel like a misbehaving puppy.  The reporter settled on Lindsay’s couch and watched as Jill sank into the orange leather chair as Claire took up residence beside the redhead.  “I…”

 “Ah!”  Claire held up a hand, and Cindy lapsed into instant, surprised silence.  “Do not even try to con me, young lady.”

 “Con you?” Cindy asked only to grimace at how lame her attempt to sound clueless came off.

 “The way you reacted to Pete,” Claire continued.  “Cindy, honey, you seemed almost afraid of him.”

 Cindy licked her lips and shot a quick look at Jill that Claire didn’t miss.

 “You know what this is about?” Claire demanded of the blonde.

 Jill’s blue eyes widened.  “Uh…”

 Claire shook her head.  “Spill.  What are you two keeping from me and, I strongly suspect, the absent Inspector Boxer?”

 The reporter sighed and looked to Jill once more.

 Jill leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees.  “Pete came to see Cindy his first night back in San Francisco.  He cornered her in the parking lot at the Register.”

 Claire absorbed that.  “Before or after he went to see Lindsay?”

 “Before,” Cindy replied quietly.

 “Did he threaten you?”

 “No!  God, no!” Cindy said quickly.  “It was just… he caught me off guard.  He wanted me to help get her back…”

 “Cindy,” Jill started.  “Something about Pete is scaring you.  Are you sure he didn’t say something?  Do something?”

 Cindy flapped her hands.  “He just… it’s something in his eyes… the way he looks at me.”

 “Like you’re in his way,” Jill commented.  She noted Claire’s startled look.  “To him she is, Claire.  Cindy is the competition, and Pete seems like he’s in this to win.”

 “He doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell,” Claire answered.  “You’ve seen the way Lindsay looks at her.  She never even looked at Tom like that.”

 “I know,” Jill agreed.  “But muffin man hasn’t picked up the ringing clue phone yet.  All he has to do is take one look at Lindsay around her and even a blind man could see she’s loopy in love.”

 “Hello,” Cindy timidly interjected.  “Sitting right here listening to you talk about me and my girlfriend like I wasn’t.”

 “Honey,” Claire said as her attention shifted back to the reporter.  “Something about Pete gave me the willies today.”

 “Seriously?” Jill asked in surprise.

 “Is that bad?” Cindy wondered.

 “When Claire gets the willies about someone?  It’s like Armageddon time.” Jill looked thoughtful.  “Maybe I should call the office, get them started on a restraining order.”

 “Lindsay doesn’t know he talked to you that night, does she?” Claire asked the reporter gently.

 Cindy shook her head.

 “Linz doesn’t know that Cindy saw Pete kiss her that night, either,” Jill added.  She looked at Cindy.  “We never really got the chance to talk about this again after…” The attorney trailed off, remembering the moment where she’d stepped out of the club and found Arnold on top of Cindy.  A second or two later and the reporter would have been dead.  Jill’s blue eyes tracked to the fading bruise at Cindy’s temple.  It, and the one along her left cheek, was obscured mostly by makeup and healing nicely.

 “We’ve had more to worry about than Pete Raynor,” Cindy said.  “He’s annoying, but he’s not dangerous.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Claire asked.

 “You saw him just now…” Cindy started.

 “Cindy.” Jill paused to find the right words.  “You’re afraid of him.  Not because you think he’ll come between you and Lindsay, but because there is something about him that makes you physically frightened.  Do not take that instinct lightly.”

 Cindy looked from one friend to the other before rubbing her hands across her face in frustration.  “I just don’t know what to do!”

 “Have you told Lindsay about the kiss?” Claire wanted to know.

 “What do you think?” Jill huffed with a roll of her eyes.  “They’re the perfect match.  Both of them keeping stuff from each other all the time.”

 “Hey!” Cindy dropped her hands and looked at Jill in consternation.

 “You telling me you don’t?” The attorney asked blandly.

 “Cindy.”  Claire put her hand on the reporter’s knee and waited for her dark brown eyes to turn her way again.  “That’s why your ran off to New Faith, isn’t it?”

 The redhead squirmed a little before reluctantly nodding.  “I just…” Cindy went silent for so long the others almost thought she’d decided not to talk.  Finally she took a breath and started again.  “I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall,” she slowly confessed.

 “The other shoe?” Claire prompted.

 “Look at me,” Cindy said.  “I’m nothing all that special.  I talk too much.  Get myself into trouble at every turn.  Get myself arrested at every other turn.”  Cindy studied her linked hands where they rested in her lap.  “I pinch myself everyday because I can’t believe Lindsay could love me… not the way I love her.”

 “Honey…” Claire murmured.

 “I know she loves me,” Cindy hastened to say.  “It’s just…”

 “When you want something this much it makes you that much more afraid you’ll lose it,” Jill said with quiet understanding.

 Cindy nodded.  “And then there is Pete… and Tom… and…” She shook her head.  “I just… I guess I keep waiting for Lindsay to come to her senses.”

 “She did,” Claire told her with a wry grin.  “When she opened up her heart and let you in.”

 Cindy’s eyes brimmed with tears that didn’t quite spill over.  “I’m so scared something is going to take her from me… someone…”

 “Not gonna happen,” Jill announced with conviction.  “Aside from the fact that Lindsay loves you more than anything, Claire and I would so kick her ass.”

 Cindy laughed and dabbed at her eyes.

 “I think the two of us together could take her,” Claire said drolly.

 Jill looked from one friend to the other. “Now let’s talk about what we’re going to do about creepy Pete.  I’m getting sticky from all this sap.”

 Cindy had to nod, feeling grateful for the presence of her friends at that moment.  At least Pete was something they could actually handle right now, unlike David Arnold who had apparently vanished into the ether.  

 ****

 “Tex.”

 Jacobi sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes.  “You really need to let this go.”

 “She called me Tex, Jacobi,” Lindsay groused from her position in the passenger seat.  They’d just done another sweep of St. Vincente’s and had settled in the car. 

 “I know.  You’ve mentioned it five times already.”

 “Where does she get off calling me anything but Inspector, Boxer, or Lindsay?  I told her she could call me Lindsay.  I should have kept my mouth shut.”

 Jacobi was wishing his partner would do that now.  “I’ve heard Cindy call you Tex from time to time.”

 “That’s different.  That’s sweet and affectionate and…” Lindsay screwed up her face in a scowl.  “Gah!  I don’t like this woman already!”

 Jacobi chuckled.  “Where to now, partner?”  The past two weeks, other officers had been checking on the spots David Arnold had been known to reside.  Today, Lindsay had wanted to give them another try herself.  They’d run by Arnold’s apartment, the unused rooms of the Hall, the church.  So far nothing had popped.  Arnold had just vanished.  Jacobi kept waiting for the call that his body had been found rotting somewhere.

 Lindsay stared out the windshield at the empty buildings around them.  “You think he’s in one of these?  Watching us?”

 “They’ve been checked, Linz.”

 “Maybe they need to be checked again.”

 “We don’t have warrants.”

 “We could get ‘em.”

 “You wanna call Denise or shall I?”

 Lindsay scowled again. 

 “You are in a mood this morning,” Jacobi informed her.

 “I want this over,” Lindsay grumped.  “I want to know where the bastard is.  I want to get on with my life without having to worry that he’s gonna make another run at Jill or anyone else.”

 “We all want that, Linz,” Jacobi answered her with the patience of a saint.  “He’ll turn up.”

 “What if he doesn’t?” Lindsay finally voiced her fear out loud.  “I keep promising Jill we’ll catch the son-of-a-bitch, but what if we don’t?”  The threat of failure seemed to hang over Lindsay like a pall these last two weeks.  Hell, the whole year, really, she thought bitterly. 

 It was a fear of Jacobi’s as well, but he refused to admit it.  “Not going to happen.  We’ll find him.  No matter what it takes, we’ll find him.  You, me and that little club of yours.”

 Lindsay gave him the laser vision and he just chuckled.  He yanked the key out of the ignition.  “You know… screw the warrants.  Let’s have a look around those buildings.  I’m sure we can find an open door or window.”

 “Or we can make one that way,” Lindsay replied with a sly smile.

 “I did not hear you suggest that.”

 **** 

 On the third building, they hit pay dirt.

 “Lindsay!”

 The inspector jerked as her named echoed in the rafters.  They were currently prowling around inside an old warehouse that smelled of rust and rotting wood.  Lindsay was checking the front office while Jacobi was in the back.  She stepped out of the room and shined her flashlight toward the general area she knew her partner was in.  The distance was enough that the beam of light barely lit Jacobi’s face.

 “You need to see this,” he shouted to her.

 Lindsay’s heart kicked against her ribs as she broke into a jog toward her partner’s position.  Her boots sounded like rifle shots on the concrete in the empty space.  He waited until she was almost to him before he stepped through a doorway.

 “What did you find?” she asked, slightly breathless, as she rounded the corner.

 Jacobi grimly pointed to a bookcase.  “The other cops must have missed this on the first sweep.  Look at the floor.”

 Lindsay glanced down, seeing a sliding pattern in the dirt and grime.  It looked fresh.  “Someone moved it.”

 “Recently,” Jacobi agreed.

 Lindsay un-holstered her gun and pointed it at the bookshelf.  She nodded at Jacobi who grabbed one side and gave it a tug.  It swung open easily, and the older detective stepped back and drew his own weapon as they shined their flashlights inside.

 It was empty.

 “Damnit,” Lindsay hissed.  She glanced inside, noting the shelving.  Someone, at some point, had been up to no good with this little room she was sure.  Now, though, it was empty.

 “Wait.” Jacobi moved forward into the space, his flashlight illuminating something on the floor.  Lindsay watched him as she slipped her weapon back into her holster.  Her breath caught when he lifted the item with a pencil.

 It was a rag soaked in blood.

 Lindsay smiled darkly.  “I knew I hit the bastard.”

 ****

 “Denise!”

 The Acting District Attorney paused in the hallway and sighed.  Reluctantly she turned around to find Jill Bernhardt jogging toward her.  Jill looked much better than the last time Denise had seen her in the courtroom two weeks ago when the blonde had been covered in bruises, scratches and abrasions.  Jill’s skin had regained more of its usual glow and her blue eyes were as vibrant as always.  “DDA Bernhardt.”

 Jill smiled at the formal greeting.  She really had no idea what was going to come out of Denise’s mouth at any given moment.  It was one of the few things she found fascinating about her boss.  “Hi.”

 Denise raised one elegant eyebrow and waited.  She’d spoken with Jill numerous times by phone since the attorney’s attack and the topic was always the same.  “I haven’t heard from the shrink, Jill.”

 “You will,” Jill promised as she pointed her finger at Denise with conviction.  “I just came from another session, actually.  Dr. Frasier said I could get back to work.”

 “Oh really?”  Skepticism dripped from Denise’s voice.

 “Well… soon.  She said I need a few more sessions still.  She wants to…” Jill hesitated.  “She wants to talk about William Carter.”   

 Some of Denise’s rigidness relaxed with Jill’s honesty.  “That’s… probably a good thing,” she admitted. 

 “I don’t know about good,” Jill said with a weak smile, “But probably necessary.”

 “So what brings you by?” Denise asked as she got to the point.  As good as it was to see Jill looking more like herself, she was due back in court in twenty.

 “I need a search warrant.”

 Denise crossed her arms. “Bernhardt, maybe you don’t fully understand how medical leave works…”

 “I was hoping you would execute it,” Jill said seriously.

 Denise’s brow knitted in consternation.  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

 Jill licked her lips before tugging Denise inside an empty office.  “Inspectors Jacobi and Boxer… took a look… around some of the empty buildings near St. Vincente’s.”

 “Took a look?  You mean they broke in?”  Denise’s voice elevated.  “Are they trying to blow this case?!”

 “They’re trying to catch the guy who beat me with a fucking Bible, Denise,” Jill replied, her voice colder.  “And they found something.  I’m asking you to legal this up so we can use it if we need it.  As soon as they found something they backed out, left it alone until we could get a warrant.”

 Denise shook her head in disgust.  “You need to learn a thing or two about the law, Jill.”

 “And maybe you need to learn a thing or two about friendship,” Jill countered.

 “We’re not friends,” Denise fired back only to swallow around the strange lump that seemed to have formed in her throat.

 “I didn’t say we were,” Jill conceded feeling oddly disappointed with Denise’s words.  “But Lindsay and Jacobi are putting themselves on the line for me to catch this guy.  You want Arnold to kill someone else because Linz and Warren didn’t follow procedure to the letter?”

 Denise stared at her hard for a disconcerting moment.  With an exasperated breath, she shoved the files in her arms into Jill’s hands.  “Better get to Judge Lyman’s courtroom and ask for a continuance.”

 Jill glanced down at her sneakers, jeans, and light blue sweater.  “I can’t…”

 “If I’m going to bend the law, you sure as hell can show up a little underdressed to represent it.”  Denise stomped away in a huff.

 Jill watched Denise go and shook her head when her boss was out of sight.  “I will never get that woman,” she muttered before heading for Lyman’s bench.

 **** 

 

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