NOT EDITED

Bridget sat down in front of Rick’s desk, arms crossed over her chest. “I called Jamal. He wasn’t aware Kathy had even left LA, let alone come here. So far, she’s not answering any of his phone calls. But once we deduce where she went, she’ll be sent home, and Bo’s notebook will return here to the station. He’s gone through everything and confirmed she couldn’t have taken anything else from the evidence room.”

“Including the evidence itself?” Rick asked. “I… I don’t know how true it is, but I always heard rumors of her swiping evidence before it was logged to be the only one who could solve the case.”

“He checked, believe me. Everything’s accounted for.”

“Good,” Rick whispered. He grabbed his baseball cap from his desk, fiddling with it for a moment before pulling it down over his head. “You ever had to work with Kathy before?”

“Not directly, but I’m still well-aware of her and everything about her. She usurps any high-profile cases from our department if her case isn’t as ‘important’ as ours. It’s just… all about whichever case is going to get her in the press. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that Bo was here, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere near here. It’s not high-profile in the slightest, and by the time it’s a ‘small town murder’ episode of a crime show, she’s going to have forgotten all about it, and the potential air time from it won’t matter at all.”

Rick shook his head. “You know, I always wonder how the hell she’s the detective Jamal raised. I just… I grew up around him, since I grew up around her. I was at his house all the damn time, and he’d play hide and seek with us. Board games, bad mitten, catch, tag. He’d take us to laser tag sometimes. I even got to tag along for horse trail riding a couple times. I just…” He cleared his throat. “I know there are rumors about Jamal, about the things he’s involved in and what he does outside of the police station. But he’s a decent man, you know? At least, he was when I knew him in person.”

“He still is. Decent, I mean. Los Angeles is lucky to have him as Chief. He’d just probably be better off if he could ditch Kathy once and for all,” Bridget said with a soft laugh and a shake of her head.

“Probably,” Rick agreed. “He made a promise to her dad that he’d take care of her if anything happened to him. That’s all I know, but… that promise is why he lets her get away with most things, I think. Even if it’s a bad thing.”

“That, I didn’t know. That she was adopted, yeah, obviously. But not the secret promise to her bio dad.”

“Yeah, just one of those things, I guess. I was always jealous of her for getting to have Jamal as a dad, and she didn’t even want him. Didn’t respect him, didn’t love him. Didn’t anything. My old man, see, he was a son of a bitch, took out whatever his parents did wrong on me and my mom. All I ever wanted was a good dad, and Kathy got him instead. She doesn’t know about that jealousy, and she still acts like… she’s the smartest person in the world. The best person. The greatest. The most talented. The most impressive. She doesn’t even know how many people would kill for the childhood he gave her, the one she took for granted at every turn.” Rick chuckled, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Lack of sleep really does make you feel drunk. Makes you loose-lipped like one too.”

“My dad was kind of a piece of shit too. Explains my usual taste in men.”

Rick snorted. He dropped his elbow to the arm of his chair, tilting his head to the side to rest his temple against his fist. “You do that a lot, you know that? Shift the focus to someone or something other than yourself. Usually men. Your men.”

One corner of Bridget’s mouth lifted. “What can I say? Sexuality and what I do with it is my comfort zone. Bo’s probably one of the only people alive that knows much about me. Keep my inner circle small.”

“Seems like you and Jeff might actually make a good piece of that inner circle.”

“He is pretty cute,” Bridget agreed.

“I can’t say much on that. He does like you, though. Never seen him get all… flushed and blushy with a gal before. Thinks they must make ‘em different in California.”

Bridget chuckled. “Maybe they do. They sure make the lads different here in Ellepath. Jeff is a… homecooked, small-town country boy. He’s a sweet guy, despite that ego you warned me about.”

“I give him shit, but he doesn’t live up to most of it these days. He used to be a ‘peaked in high school’ kinda guy. He’s outgrown it, but I haven’t yet outgrown beating him up for it.”

“He enjoys it. You’re the best friend he’s ever had. He wants nothing more than for this to be over and for you two to go back to hunting down who stole the lawn Santa.”

A little smile tugged at one corner of Rick’s mouth. “Yeah, me too. I left California to get away from all of this, you know? I never wanted to see anything like this ever again.”

“I know. I… I know about your last case there. I’m sorry you had to go through it then, and I’m sorry this is bringing everything back for you.”

“Thank you.” A pause. “How, uh, how much do you know?”

“Enough to know that you shouldn’t blame yourself for it the way that you do.”

“I was right there, and he still managed to kill those two girls before I shot him,” Rick whispered. “I was there. How am I not supposed to blame myself for that?”

“He almost completely severed your shooting arm. From what I heard, it’s a miracle you can use your left arm at all. How the hell were you supposed to recover from that wound quickly enough to draw your gun with your opposite hand?”

“You sound like the shrink Jamal set me up with before I left.”

“Sounds like a smart shrink who knew what they were talking about.”

“I don’t know. You ever watched someone kill two kids, Bridget?”

“No, I can’t say I have,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m sorry that you had to, truly.”

Rick shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” he whispered. “And now he’s… I don’t know. It seems like he’s back, and I don’t know how I can survive this a second time.”

Bridget leaned forward in her chair to lay a hand over Rick’s. “This time, you don’t have Kathy Baker to work the case. This time, you have Jeff and Bo and me, and we’re gonna kick this guy’s fuckin’ ass before he ever gets the chance to kill any kids. We’re a crack team, Rick, I promise. We’ll have this guy behind bars before it ever gets that far again. I promise.”

***

Rick came down to Bo’s ‘office’ with a Casey’s pizza box. Bridget and Jeff had left for their own ‘lunch break’ around the same time he had, though Rick was relatively certain their break was more so code for sex than for food. As long as it kept them both functional and working the case, he didn’t mind. Whatever brought Bonnie home. Whatever kept this bastard from beheading any children. Whatever it took.

He set the box on the table beside Bo’s laptop. “It’s just you and me now,” he said as he opened the lid of the box. “It’s time to tell me everything Kathy stole out of your notebook.”

“Bo lifted his gaze to Rick’s face for a moment before grabbing a slice of pizza. “There are three reporters that reported the heaviest on the kidnappings and murders. They were usually the first to the crime scenes, they were known to sneak beneath the scene tape to try and get up-close photos and videos, and they always made sure their stories were on the front page of their respective papers. They’re all missing.”

“What?”

“I’m… not done.” Bo took a small bite of his pizza, chewed, swallowed, and cleared his throat. “Of the standard patrol cops that responded to the scenes before they were confirmed to be homicides, before the detectives were called in, three of them left the force shortly after you did. All three of those cops are missing. The psychologist that gave you the okay to go back to work after the shooting? Missing. I have no doubt there are more. Those are just the ones I looked into in between logging evidence and scanning prints and blood results and…” He let out a breath. “You and I are arguably on the list. I think I only survived LA because I didn’t leave the station the way the others did. The psychologist had retired, the reporters had moved on to different papers, the officers had left. He knows that if they were still in Jamal’s city, their disappearances would be well-known. At the forefront. He’s smart, in that regard.”

Rick was entirely speechless for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he swallowed roughly. “I-if this is about me, he’s toying with me. Did he toy with them before they went missing?”

“To be frank, I don’t know. I don’t know if their disappearances were truly investigated or not. I just know their names are in the missing persons’ database.”

“And all those names were in the notebook?”

“Yes.”

“Which means Kathy knows all of them.”

“Unfortunately.”

Rick let out a breath. “If… you could get me that list again?”

“Yes?”

“Then I’ll call Jamal and see how many potential files he can get his hands on for us. If Kathy has already contacted police stations about them, as long as they haven’t sent the files to her yet, Jamal can easily override that.”

Bo nodded. “Yeah, I can get a list written out for you.” He set the rest of his slice on a napkin and wiped his hands before pulling a pad of sticky notes over to himself. As he handed the list over to Rick, a voice came through the radio on the deputy’s shoulder.

“Rick, are you on?”

Rick closed his eyes for a moment before pressing the button on the side of his radio. “Yeah, Georgia. Rick here.”

“There’s another body on the lake.” Bo pushed himself to his feet long before Rick found the strength to reply again. “Ten-four. Headin’ out.”

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NOT EDITED

Despite Rick practically chasing her out to the parking lot, Kathy had climbed into her rental car and driven away from the station. He headed back inside and made his way down to the basement. Jeff was stationed outside in the hall, arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against the wall.

Rick did his best to seem… casual. “Everything okay in there?”

Jeff nodded. “Mmhmm. Bo said was waiting for him when he came back from a coffee refill, but she headed upstairs after he threatened to call Jamal if she didn’t get out of his office.” He snorted. “Apparently our short blonde duo in there don’t play about that woman. Bridget says she’s gonna kill her if she sees her again, and Bo says it’s probably a good thing he’s in charge of the evidence collection and recording, then.”

“Yeah, probably,” Rick agreed. “Bo seem… normal?”

“I mean, as normal as an overworked, sleep-deprived genius can be,” Bridget said as she came to the doorway. “Why?”

Rick cleared his throat. “Is it okay if I talk to him alone?”

Bridget raised a brow. “She didn’t get to you, did she?”

“Nah,” Rick said with a shake of his head. “I know her pretty well. I just want to make sure he’s okay. On my own.”

“Sure,” she said after a moment, drawing the word out for several beats. “Umm… we’ll go out and snag some more good coffee. You need a refill too?”

“That’d be great, Bridget. Thanks.”

She gauged his face through the slightest squint of her eyes before stepping past him and heading upstairs. Jeff seemed hesitant, but he followed her without further question. For that, Rick was thankful. The only person left in the station who could begin to ease his mind was Bo.

He walked into the room, closing the door behind him. At the other end of the room, Bo stood behind the table, eyeing something through a microscope. “What’re you looking at?”

“The hair you collected from Bonnie’s room. Thus far, I’ve matched it to three of the hairs we discovered in the school’s basement. We can officially confirm without any doubt that she was taken down there after being taken in the parking lot.” Bo lifted his head with a sigh. “I just… don’t know why.”

“We’ll get there.”

“I hope so.” Bo’s eyes shifted to his face, and Rick watched the furrowed brow of concern and confusion drop from Bo’s. In a split second, it was simply gone, a well-practiced societal mask of normalcy falling in its place. “What’s wrong?”

“Kathy said something to me before she left.”

“And… what would that be?”

“She said these men… the guy who took Bonnie and the guy who killed Carol… she says this is revenge. Revenge against me.” Rick swallowed roughly before trying to clear the lump in his throat. “And then, uh, she said she’d love to see you try to decipher that one.”

Bo stared at Rick for a moment before turning around and grabbing a small stack of notebooks. He flipped through the stack before letting out a heavy sigh, head tilted back toward the ceiling. “She stole my notebook.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have different notebooks that I use for different things. When I came into the lab, she was holding this one,” Bo said as he turned around, setting a red notebook on the table. “I use the red ones for individual cases. So this one is for Bonnie, and this one is for Miss Jameson.” He set a second red notebook on the table. “She had Bonnie’s when I came in, but I flipped through it after I took it from her, and everything was still there where it belonged. I use a black notebook for basic, minimalist notes of every case I’ve ever worked, and in this specific instance, I’ve been using a gray notebook for the… underground side of our case.” Bo sprawled the rest of the stack out on the table. “It’s gone, which means she knows everything you and I know that… no one is supposed to know, including the things I was going to tell you about at lunch, preferably after you’d taken at least a bite or two.”

“So you knew about the… the revenge thing?” Rick asked.

Bo chewed on the corner of his bottom lip for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Sort of. ‘Knew’ is a strong word, but it was a theory she stole from my notebook, yes.”

“Wh-why do you think this is… is because of me?” Rick asked, his brow furrowed.

“It’s a theory. Kathy seemingly stated it to you as though it were a fact or something I had extreme evidence of. It isn’t, and I don’t. But the Decapitator case was in California. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that our killer’s father ended up here in Ellepath to decapitate people.”

“But his blood was at… at the school. With Bonnie,” Rick said.

“Right,” Bo said after a moment. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Bonnie is the kid he chose to take, either. I believe that was also quite deliberate.”

“Why? It’s not like she’s mine. She’s just… j-just a girl. She’s dating my son. I don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

“Her not being yours is precisely the point, I believe. Bonnie allows him to still get to you, to still relate the case to you, without entirely destroying your ability to work it. If it were one of your kids he had taken instead of Bonnie, you wouldn’t have been given the case. And even if they had assigned it to you despite the conflict, there’s no way you would have been able to function well enough to work it. You working this case is… one of the most important parts of enacting revenge. He has to be able to get to you, to play with your mind, to make you trip over your feet, so to speak. And if you aren’t the one going to the crime scenes and seeing the evidence and questioning the witnesses and the families, then nothing happens to you. Nothing tortures you at the… appropriate level.”

Bo cleared his throat. “He needs to play with you, Rick. Cat and mouse, I suppose. He needs to toy with you before he can go into whatever his final plan for you is. Bonnie’s kidnapping was the beginning. Carol Jameson — I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t have an answer for that. I haven’t quite put the pieces together on it, but it’s related. It has to be. And one way or another, it’s all aimed at you. It’s just a matter of why.”

***

On his lunch break, he headed home from the school, more than surprised to see Caleb’s car in his driveway. He shut off the engine and climbed out of the car. Inside the house, he found Caleb standing at the bar in the kitchen, hands clasped together atop the surface, his head resting on his joined fists.

“Thought we had talked about you not coming here?”

“We’re going too far, Zak.”

He cleared his throat. “Why’s that?”

“This was all supposed to be to get back at Rick Downs.” Caleb lifted his head. “This was about him. A-and now we’ve been holding that girl hostage for almost forty-eight hours, and now we’ve killed an innocent old lady too. I-I just can’t see how this is all still something that follows what we set out to do. I d-don’t think I can keep doing this in the name of revenge.”

“You no longer have a choice, Caleb. You agreed to the plan. You agreed to follow the plan.”

“That was before I knew the plan involved killing and decapitating innocent old ladies!” Caleb shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore, Zak.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to feel that way, but if you decide not to follow the plan, you will be made to join Carol Jameson in hell. If you want Rick to pay for his crimes, you need to shut the hell up, man up, and do as you’re told.”

“Jesus Christ,” Caleb whispered. “You’re a psychopath.”

As Caleb walked past him, he grabbed the man’s arm. “Before you truly consider running to the sheriff, I’d like to remind you that our children are proof that these cops are absolutely not capable of protecting the people they promise to protect, so better figure out whose side you’re really on, and you better figure it out fast. Because if you breathe a word of anything to anyone, I will find out, and you will pay for it. Do you understand?”

Caleb’s brow furrowed before he nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I understand.”

“Good.” He released Caleb’s arm. “Now get the fuck outta here.”

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NOT EDITED

Bonnie tilted her head back against the cold metal pole as a door closed above her. She had come to assume that particular door was one that led outside. Likely a front door, but maybe a back door made more sense, given that she’d heard it shortly before the man had come to the basement door and tossed Miss Jameson’s head down the stairs.

Her gaze drifted down to the blood on the concrete where Miss Jameson’s head had landed. He’d taken her head back, and she hadn’t seen him since, despite how many times she had heard him come and go.

Two more doors opened and closed, and she heard him talking to himself. His voice was quiet and soft, and she couldn’t really make out any words, but it was definitely there. When the basement door finally opened, Bonnie flinched. She closed her eyes, forcing her head to hang at her chest rather than allowing herself to look at him. If he thought she were sleeping, maybe he’d simply… turn around and leave. Maybe he’d go without throwing anyone else down here with her. Anyone else’s head, anyway. At this point, she wasn’t sure she could hope for much more than that.

His feet seemed lighter on the steps than usual. Something hit the floor. Metallic? Ceramic? “I brought you something to eat.”

Bonnie’s brow furrowed. His voice was different? She lifted her head, eyes locking on a masked face that was undeniably different than the one she’d gotten used to seeing. “You’re… you’re not him,” she whispered.

The man cleared his throat and pushed a plate closer to her. “I’m going to uncuff one of your hands. Just one. Which do you prefer to eat with?”

“M-my right.”

He nodded, looking down as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Right, it is,” he whispered.

Oh, my God, there’s TWO of them?

***

If it was possible for Tina to look worse than the last time Rick had seen her, she certainly did now. In the less than forty-eight hours since Bonnie’s reported disappearance, she seemed to have aged a decade or two — the bags under her dull eyes more pronounced than before, the skin on her face a bit taut, her overall face sunken and drawn.

“Rick,” she said after a moment, her voice a bit hoarse. “You, uh… you’ve got a whole crew back there, it looks like. I don’t need to sit down, do I?”

Rick shook his head. “No. Jeff and Bridget — she’s an officer from LA, came down with our borrowed forensics guy — wanted to grab some things from Bonnie’s room, but Jeff was a bit worried about how that’d go over with you. He’s not… proud of the way he handled things when you first came to the station to report her missing.”

“It still got reported that day. I’m past it,” Tina said with a half-hearted shrug. “There are too many other things to think about and dwell on, don’t you think?”

“Unfortunately.” Rick nodded toward the house. “Can we come in? They just need to grab a couple fingerprints from Bonnie’s room and a couple hairs from her hairbrush.”

“Yeah, you know where it is,” Tina said, taking a step back.

After Rick gave Jeff and Bridget a brief rundown on where they’d find Bonnie’s room and bathroom, he stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. “I checked out your ex, just to be safe. I even followed up with his parole officer. There’s absolutely no sign of Bonnie down that way.”

“I don’t know if that’s… a relief or a disappointment,” Tina whispered.

“I’ve kind of been feeling that way with just about every corner we’ve turned in this investigation.”

Tina sniffled as she crossed her arms over her chest. Somehow, that motion made her look smaller and even more tired. “Do you think she’s alive, Rick? I-I’m not asking for bullshit or false hope. You were a cop in California. You’ve seen kidnappings and murder and absolutely sick, sick humans more than any of us ever will. I need the truth. Do you think she’s alive?”

“I’ve been out of LA for so long, Tina. None of that feels like a person I used to be anymore,” Rick said. “So I don’t know what I think. I want to believe she’s alive, and I want to believe that we’ll find her. But our forensics guy? He came from Los Angeles with that detective. He’s damn good at what he does. And right now, he believes Bonnie’s alive. He says that with the way this guy seems to be operating, he’d want us to know if she weren’t okay. If she were dead… we’d know. He would’ve shown us already.”

“I hope he’s right,” Tina said. “I need him to be right, Rick.”

“I know, Tina. I know.”

***

The sight of Kathy Baker seated at Rick’s desk, in his seat rather than one of the chairs in front of it, set off some sort of primal, momma bear rage in Bridget’s brain. She stalked across the station, several feet in front of Rick and Jeff, and marched right up to Kathy. A hand on the back of the chair, she shoved it backward, away from the desk.

Kathy, hands folded over her chest, only raised a brow.

“What in the ever loving fuck are you doing here?” Bridget asked.

“I just wanted to see the super cool archeological dig you and Austen were working on. Jamal made it sound so interesting.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You bring your little boy toy with you too?”

“My husband is—”

“You know damn well I’m not talking about your husband, Baker.” Bridget pointed back toward the basement stairs. “If I go down there and find that bastard in the evidence room with Bo, I’ll kill him first, and then I’ll march my ass right back up here and kill you second.”

One corner of Kathy’s mouth lifted. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you do not want to test me, Baker.”

Kathy gestured behind Bridget. “Well, why don’t you go on down and see how many people you need to kill?”

Bridget turned around and headed toward the stairs, grabbing Jeff’s arm along the way. “You, with me. You do not want to give that bitch a chance to play around in your head.”

“What about Rick?”

“He grew up with her. He knows her games better than anyone.”

After a moment of silence, Rick cleared his throat. “Please remove youself from my chair, Kathy.”

“Of course, Rick. All you gotta do is ask.” Kathy rose to her feet, grabbing the folder from Rick’s keyboard as she walked around his desk. She dropped into one of the chairs in front of it. “Looking at these cases of yours, it’s a damn good thing I decided to check in, make sure things were going okay.”

“Oh?” Rick asked as he lowered himself into his chair.

“There’s not a chance in hell Bo Austen is going to find this girl alive.”

“From what I recall, he has a pretty good… live release rate.”

“The detectives have a good ‘live release’ rate. Austen works in the fucking basement, Rick.”

“Not the Austen I remember,” Rick said, forcing a chuckle. “The Austen I remember has been working out in the field and putting himself in the line of fire practically since the day he got hired. And unlike those of us with a badge, he’s not even armed. Takes balls to do something like that, Kathy.”

“Being chronically co-dependant on every cop he’s ever worked with, needing to follow them absolutely everywhere, isn’t having balls. It’s weak-minded idiocy.”

“Well, Jamal always talks quite highly of him. That’s enough for me,” Rick said.

Kathy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, what a shocker that he likes the little brown-noser.”

“Kinda seems like you’d like him too if he’d kiss your ass every now and then. But he’s a little too smart for that, isn’t he?”

Kathy snorted. “You’ve changed since California.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like that was kinda the point of leaving.” Rick pulled off his ball cap and tossed it onto his keyboard. “Anything I can help you with here, Kathy? Since Bridget hasn’t come back up yet, I can only imagine this Travis guy isn’t down there with Bo, but I also imagine you’ve already been down there to insult him to his face. So aside from helping you further torment the kid, what can I do for you?”

She held up the folders she’d swiped from his desk. One for Bonnie. One for Carol Jameson. “Request my help.”

“I had the opportunity to do that when I called Jamal and personally asked for Bo.”

“Are you fucking serious? He sent Bo because you asked for him?”

“I sure did.”

“Why in the fuck would you do that?”

Rick chuckled, shaking his head. “You haven’t changed a damn bit, Kathy. I remember what it was like working with you in California. You were a manipulative little shit when we were kids, you were a manipulative bitch when we were cops together, and you’re a manipulative bitch now. You go on a warpath to destroy anyone you’re worried is smarter than you or better than you. You tear down anyone who might someday replace you. Last I knew, you were single-handedly trying to destroy any female cop in the West Department, and since Bridget also clearly doesn’t like you, I can only imagine you now try to destroy any woman at any of the LAPD departments. Right?”

“If a sarcastic remark here and a questioning of their theories there is enough to destroy them, that sounds like a failure of their character, not mine.”

Rick actually had to bite back a laugh on that one. “Yeah, just a little friendly competition. I’m sure.”

Kathy simply watched him for a moment before shaking her head. “I can’t believe you did that. Demand he send Bo instead of me. He’s nothing but an overhyped little shit. Any damn idiot can pull a latent print and put it in the computer, Rick. A monkey could do it.”

“Maybe. But a monkey sure as hell couldn’t invent that little blood tester Bo did. A monkey couldn’t invent the fingerprint scanner he’s got built into his phone. It couldn’t substantially reduce the wait times for for that evidence coming back to the station. Bo is at the very forefront of forensics right now, whether or not he puts those inventions out to the rest of the world. Do you even begin to understand how vital it is to a department this size to have someone like Bo? Someone who can take nothing more than a table in the back of the file room and turn it into an entire lab? That kid is absolutely brilliant, Kathy, and the fact that you’re still unwilling to admit is a failure of your character. Not his.”

Kathy rolled her eyes, pushing herself to her feet. “Your kidnapper-killer duo? They’re after you, Rick. This is nothing more than revenge against you. Love to see your holy grail decipher that one.”

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NOT EDITED

After dealing with Gerry’s particular brand of ‘compliance’, Bridget had texted a picture of his shoe treads to Bo, and she and Jeff had headed out to Tina Young’s house. Jeff had just shifted into park when Bridget’s phone buzzed with a text back from Bo. “They aren’t a match,” she said.

“Damn.” A pause. “Well… not damn. I don’t know. It’s hard to say if it feels like a good thing or not.”

“Bad that we still don’t have Bonnie’s kidnapper, good that it’s probably not the bus driver,” Bridget said.

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, I can live with that deduction.” He turned off the car and pulled the key from the ignition, letting out a breath. “I, uh… I think we should call Rick in for this.”

“Why?”

“When Tina reported Bonnie as missing, I tried my damndest to talk her into believing Bonnie had just run away, that she just needed a break and would be back soon. She was so upset about it. Rightfully so. And, you know, sure, I eventually took the report, but I should have just done that from the start. Or called Rick over to do it. They know each other better than I know her these days.”

“Was she in your grade in school too?” After a moment, Jeff nodded. “Were you an asshole to her?”

“No. I don’t think so, anyway. We just weren’t in the same friend group. But Rick, you know. Bonnie and his twins, Peter and Jenny — they hit it off basically as soon as they came down here from LA. Playdates, sleepovers, going out for food and movies and shopping trips. I shoulda called Rick over so she had someone who… who would have given her the immediate comfort and respect she needed.”

Bridget reached over to lay a hand on his knee. “I do think that Miss Young will see that you’re working this case, no matter what you thought when she came into the station with that report. But if you think it’s better for her to have Rick here? Then I’m with you. You go ahead and give him a call, and we’ll wait here until he comes in.”

“Thank you, Bridget.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here to do, remember? To help.”

“I know, but still. I keep thinking of how this would be going if Pitman had sent Baker instead of you, and… and from what Rick’s said, I don’t think she’d be supporting me emotionally.”

Bridget lightly elbowed him in the side. “Or sexually, huh?”

Jeff rolled his eyes, shifting enough in his seat to pull his cell from his pocket. “You’re a whole different fucking breed of person, Decker.”

“And damn proud of it.”

***

“Austen.”

Bo stopped writing, lifting his head to meet Rick’s gaze. “Another… scene?”

Rick shook his head. “No. Thank God. Jeff and Bridget are at Tina’s house to collect the stuff you wanted, but Jeff doesn’t feel comfortable being the one to go in, so I’m heading over there. Do you want to come with, collect it yourself?”

“No, that’s all right. I trust that between the three of you, you can collect fingerprints and hair that meet my standards.”

“You’re sure?”

Bo smiled. “I have complete and utter confidence in you.”

“Great,” Rick whispered. “You got… anything new?”

“Nothing that’s helpful.”

“So you have something.”

Bo let out a breath. “I will tell you, I promise. But I’d like to get you to Miss Young’s house first. When you return with prints and hair, then we can talk. Just you and me, okay?”

“Ah, so it’s for the ‘underground’ part of our case, huh?” Rick asked.

After a moment, Bo nodded. “We can take lunch together or something, give Bridget and Deputy Briggs an excuse to take an early lunch together, as well. Does that sound all right?”

“That works for me. I’ll see you in a bit, Bo.”

“See you soon, Rick.” Bo watched him walk back out of the room before allowing his gaze to drop to his coffee mug. He needed another refill to carry him through to lunch, where he’d hopefully be able to squeeze in a ten to fifteen-minute nap after he talked to Rick about the case. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbed his mug, and headed upstairs. For now, he’d settle for the station’s cheap coffee and creamer. After lunch, he’d ask Rick to head to whatever little shop Jeff had gone to for a better latte. He tried not to be too picky, so long as it had caffeine and didn’t taste like literal poison, but nice coffee was always, well, nice.

Back in the basement, he froze before he even made it to the doorway. Perfume. Perfume that was always worn by one particular pain in the ass.

Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath before forcing them open again and taking a step forward. “Detective Baker.”

Kathy turned toward him, one of his notebooks in hand. “One hell of an archeological find you’ve got here, Austen.”

Bo crossed the room, clearing his throat as he set his mug down on the table. “I can only assume Mister Pitman didn’t send you.”

“Mister Pitman. God, do you always call him that? Even when he’s not around to hear you kiss his ass?”

“A little respect for people goes a long way, Detective. It isn’t kissing ass. If it were, I certainly wouldn’t offer you the same respect I do Mister Pitman.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you probably wouldn’t.” Bo reached for his notebook, rolling his eyes when she held it up above her head and out of his reach. “Not so fast.”

Bo sighed. “What is it that you want, Detective?”

“I’m trying to figure out why Jamal sent you and Decker instead of me.”

“Because Ellepath is a small town? Because a department with absolutely no resources is a little beneath you and your pay grade? Because they need a walking forensics lab, and you and I aren’t exactly a good pairing? Take your pick, I suppose.”

“Please. You’d work with anyone if it meant helping some poor dead soul.” She shook the notebook. “Or in this case, one decapitated soul and a missing teen. Looks like you’re not thinking runaway.”

“She’s a straight-A student, and we have plenty of evidence that she was kidnapped.”

“Evidence is a damn strong word, Austen. Who made that call? You?”

Bo jumped up and snatched the notebook from her hand before jabbing her in the chest with it. “Just because you’re Chief’s little girl doesn’t make you smarter or better than anyone else. Everyone involved in this case made that call. You know just as well as I do that I do my best to keep my damn mouth shut about my own thoughts and opinions on a case.”

One corner of her mouth lifted. “Except for in your little notebooks. You just let everything fly in there, huh? The full… Bo Austen experience.”

“What do you want, Detective?”

“I want to make sure this case is done right. And with you on it, well…”

“You fucking Travis doesn’t make him a better analyst than me. Arguably, his willingness to sleep with you makes him an idiot.”

For the briefest of moments, she looked angry before she burst into laughter. “Jesus, Austen. You’ve finally grown some balls.”

“I’ve always had the ability to tell someone off. I simply don’t often have the desire to.” Bo pointed at her with his notebook before squeezing past her to drop back into his seat. “Your presence often brings out said desire.”

“I have that effect on people.”

“Yes, I’m very aware.” Bo flipped through his notebook, simply to confirm Kathy hadn’t physically stolen any of the pages from it. Everything appeared to be intact. “Very convenient that you just happened to show up when Bridget and the others weren’t in the station.”

“I know, right?” She perched herself on the corner of the desk. Between the stench of the alcoho, the horrid perfume to try and cover it up, and the general Kathy Baker asethetic, her very presence was nauseating.

“Aside from calling Mister Pitman to drag you back home, is there anything I can do to get you out of my office?”

Kathy laughed. “ ‘Office’ is a hilarious term for this little corner of the evidence room.”

“Unlike you, their ability to treat me like royalty or not doesn’t determine how worthy they are of help for this case. You wouldn’t want to touch a town this size with a ten-foot pole if it weren’t for the fact that I was assigned to it. You’re just mad that I’m one of Jamal’s pet projects, and you want to be the only one, because if he only has you, it’s easier to treat him like a piece of shit and still get everything you want from him.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Austen.”

“I know you a hell of a lot better than I’d like to, Baker.” Bo finally lifted his head to look at the woman again. “Now, are you willing to be an adult and go upstairs on your own, or I do I need to call Jamal?”

Kathy rolled her eyes, but much to Bo’s surprise, she jumped off the table. “I’ll go upstairs and wait for Rick to return. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know this case has someone with real insight now.”

Bo snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he will.”

“Watch your fucking tone with me, Austen.”

“You’re out of your domain, Katherine,” Bo said. “You’re in Ellepath. You’re over a thousand miles away from home. I don’t have to watch shit.”

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