by Jet MacLeod
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It is my fault. I shouldn’t have teased you,” Grace said.
Grace still had her in the embrace that Reagan started. She still held Reagan’s face in her hands. She suddenly had to urge to kiss Reagan and for once, she didn’t listen to her head but her heart. She descended slowly into the kiss, allowing Reagan enough room to flee if she wanted. Reagan didn’t move. She allowed Grace to kiss her.
It was a sweet kiss. It demanded nothing from either of them. Grace let Reagan control it once Reagan accepted it. Grace admitted that she wanted the kiss and the passion behind it, but she didn’t want to scare Reagan with her desire.
Not that she would have the chance, Reagan deepened the kiss. She took possession of the power that Grace was willing to give her. She gave Grace the passion and the heat that Grace wanted to give her. Reagan managed to slip her tongue through Grace’s lip and danced inside Grace’s mouth. Neither one of them breathed; afraid that they would wake from a common dream of love and lust that was just too perfect. Reagan’s hands shot up Grace’s back pulling Grace closer into Reagan’s already heated body. The heat seared them both.
Grace finally stepped back and into the counter. She lost her balance and her head was swimming. She couldn’t control herself around Reagan and she feared what she would do. All she wanted to do was carry Reagan up the stairs to the guest room and never let her leave the bed, again. It was selfish but damn it, Grace just didn’t care.
“Good morning, Starshine,” Grace said.
“Excuse me?” Reagan asked.
“Nothing. But, that was one hell of a kiss, missy. You kiss me like that again, and you might not ever make it to work again,” Grace warned, the carnal desire showing in her eyes.
Reagan smiled, dangerously, up into the sapphire orbs, daring Grace to make it happen. Grace’s jaw tightened. She knew that Reagan knew that she had power over Grace and damn it, that was never a good thing. Reagan was just about to test the theory of Grace’s warning, when Grace kissed her.
Reagan made no move to stop her. And, this time Grace didn’t concede the control. She owned Reagan’s mouth. She burned herself on Reagan’s mouth and body. She wanted Reagan to be just as flustered as she was. She also wanted Reagan to know that she meant everything that she just said. She would have no problems taking Reagan to bed and never letting her go.
Chapter Seventeen
Grace sat at her desk. She was reviewing the case, again, for the umpteenth time. There just had to be something there that she was missing. She just wished that it would blindside her so that she could break the case.
French put a cup of coffee on the desk. He sat down at his desk across from hers and stared at the pictured of the last victim. He looked as dismayed as Grace did.
“Anything?” she asked him.
“Nothing.”
“Great. This guy is way too good for his own good.”
“Yeah, but a guy this good, he wants to be caught. They always do. They get too cocky and then slip up because they don’t think we will ever get them,” French said.
“You might be right, French, but I hate to think about all the victims that we are going to have before we catch the asshole,” Grace said.
“Well, add one more,” Danica said, walking up to them.
“What?” French asked.
Danica threw the new case report on Grace’s desk. Grace flipped through it, quickly. She had the same suspicion that Danica had. It had to be the same guy.
“Shit!” Grace said, handing French the file.
“Yeah, tell me about it. I want you two to find this bastard. I want to nail his balls to my desk, personally,” Danica stated.
“Damn it,” French said, “She was only twenty-one.”
“Doesn’t matter her age. We have to stop this guy and quickly. The body count is already too high,” Grace said, grabbing her jacket as she stood, “Let’s go have a look at the scene while CSU is out there. Maybe, just maybe, this dip shit left us something to use.”
“God, I hope so” Danica said.
“We’re on it, Cap,” Frenchy said.
“Godspeed,” Danica said as they walked out squad room.
French and Grace took Grace’s truck this time. They floored it, lights and siren blazing until they turned into the subdivision. It was King Charles Place. It was the subdivision just past Rainbow Cove and right next to Waterfront Terrace. It was a little close to home for Grace.
“Now, I really want this guy,” Grace said getting out of the truck.
“Little too close for comfort?” French asked.
“Yeah, just a little.”
“Well, hopefully he screwed up this time and we can get him.”
“Dear God, I hope so. I want him dead or castrated. Either or which, I don’t care, but I want it done to him sooner rather than later,” Grace stated.
French and Grace began their walk up the front walk to the veranda. There was blood on the windows. They signed in with the CSU log and made their way through the scene on the CSU made path to keep from disturbing the evidence anymore.
“Damn, this guy has no control,” French said.
“Looks that way for sure,” Grace replied.
“What do you want? House or yard, this time? I don’t care,” French said.
“You can have the mess, if you want. I’d rather walk around and try to get a feel for this guy. He seems to like to come from the water. Let’s see if he did it again,” Grace answered.
“Sounds good to me,” French said, turning and going down the bloody hall to the back bedroom and the victim.
Grace continued through the CSU path out the back door. She noticed the fingerprint powder all over the handle. The door didn’t look locked to her.
“Hey, get one?” Grace asked the CSU agent at the door.
“Maybe, but I don’t know if it will work in CODEUS.”
“I hope it will, but good job trying. Just for my notes, was the door locked?”
“Nope, detective, it wasn’t. The door was wide open when we got here. You’d have to ask the on scene if anything was different. That is all I know,” the agent told her.
“Thanks,” Grace replied, absent-mindedly.
She made a note in her notebook about the door and the prints. She also made a note to talk with the on scene about what he saw as soon as she could. She wanted this guy. She wanted to take notes on every little thing.
She surveyed the yard. It was like the other scene emptied into the lake. She looked at the house and then water trying to figure out his path of approach. She didn’t see any mud this time. That was going to make it harder. She continued to pace around the yard. She didn’t like what she saw. It was nothing, pure and utter nothing. Nothing jumped out at her. She couldn’t help but think that the perp was getting more cautious in his approach. That scared her, because he seemed to be hitting the coves one by one and each vic was a woman.
She wrote herself some more notes. One note was to check the computer for any cold cases on the other coves on the lake. The other was to get as much background information as they could on the new vic. She was hoping that maybe there was a pattern or something, something that would like him to something else, something that would make it easier to find him amongst all the other crazies in the area.
She was looking over where the yard dropped into the lake. This victim didn’t have a deck or any type of lake access. The yard just stopped in the lake. That was it. She wished that something would just catch her eye. Something that would find the point of entry into the yard. That is where she wanted to start. If she had that, then maybe she could plan his approach up to the house from his lake landfall. It was then that she saw it.
Grace saw it. It was a patch of torn grass and a chunk of land in the shallows. She didn’t know how else to describe it. It looked like something had hit the bank there hard, but with what? Was it his knee? A boat? What could have made that type of indentation comi
ng out of the water and not bring mud with it into the yard?
Grace motioned for a CSU agent to come to her. She didn’t know what it was, but she hoped that someone would be able to tell her by the end of the day. The agent approached her and she began giving orders.
“I want full pictures of this. Pictures of the whole yard to the lake from multiple angles. Get someone down here and try to figure out what made that mark in the embankment. And, just for shits and giggles, test the mud, too.”
“Yes, detective. I’ll get right on it.”
Grace made her way slowly back up to the house. She was studying the grass. She was hoping to find a section of grass missing or out of place or something. There was nothing. She saw something over in the bushes in a flowerbed not too far off the house. She decided that she needed to check it out.
She found a cigarette butt. She wrote it down and added it to a list of things to find out about. She wondered if the victim smoked. She doubted it, but she couldn’t rule it out. She knelt down closer to the cigarette butt and that is when she noticed the bloody hand print on the tree. It was a large hand print. Too large to be a woman’s handprint, it had to be the perp’s. She made the notes and signaled another CSU agent over.
“Get me pictures of this. Type this bloody print if you can and check it against the cigarette butt. Then check that against the other cases,” Grace told the agent, with sweeping gestures of her hands, pointing out what she wanted.
Grace didn’t wait for the agent to acknowledge what she’d said before she headed back to the house. She stood at the back door and tried to think like the perp. She was trying to figure out which way he came into the house and whether or not the victim would have been able to see him by his approach if she was looking out the back door.
She was brought out of her thoughts by her phone ringing. She wondered if it was Danica trying to get an update on the case. She answered it without looking at the caller ID.
“O’Shea,” she said.
“Gracie?”
“Reagan,” Grace said, softly.
“Am I bothering you?”
“No, you aren’t bothering me. I am just on a scene. Did you need something?”
“Sorry, I won’t keep you. I’ll let you go, if you need to. I don’t want to hinder the investigation. I am sorry,” Reagan replied.
“Don’t worry about it. Is there something that I can do for you, Reagan? I will be leaving here soon. I am afraid, I have to wait for CSU to finish processing the scene and other things before I can do anything else with the case. SO, if you need something, I should be able to help you with whatever it is, in say, about an hour or so,” Grace offered.
“Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. I owe you for breakfast. Plus, I just wanted to spend some time with you, if it isn’t a bother to you?” Reagan asked.
“You know that isn’t a bother to me, Reagan,” Grace replied, almost hurt that Reagan would imply such a thing.
“You wouldn’t have said that two months ago or in high school,” Reagan reminded her.
“That was long ago. This is now. I don’t like to dwell in the past. So, let’s move on to the here and now. You said something about dinner? Whatcha cooking?” Grace asked.
“Food,” Reagan answered.
“Smart ass,” Grace replied.
“Well, you did ask,” Reagan stated.
“I should have known better with you. I know. So, what are you going to make for dinner in the way of food?” Grace asked rephrasing the question.
“I don’t know. What do you like? I mean meat wise,” Reagan said.
“Just about anything. I’ll try anything once, as long as it isn’t nailed down or on fire. I’m not very picky, except when it comes to fish. I like mine cooked,” Grace answered.
“So, no sushi?” Reagan asked.
“I’ll eat sushi but only sparingly. I have to eat it on purpose, but only in a restaurant. Too many bad nights of crazy friends in Atlanta swearing that they knew what they were doing when it came to home sushi parties. Don’t do it, won’t do it, unless it is in a restaurant,” Grace said.
“Gotcha, no problem there,” Reagan replied.
“So, whatever you want is fine with me, that is what I am saying,” Grace stated.
“Okay, but I hope you are hungry. I am famished and am planning on cooking a feast. I’ll see you around…okay, so it’s four thirty now, let’s say around six for dinner, sound good?”
“Sounds fine. I’ll see you then, baby. Talk to you later,” Grace answered and then hung up.
She turned around just in time to see French standing in the doorway. He had a grin the size of Texas on his face. Grace gave him an “eat shit and die” look. He just shook his head and said nothing. He motioned for Grace to follow him back to the bed room.
“There is something that I want to show you,” he said as they entered room.
“What?”
“That!”
“What the fu-? That isn’t what I think it is, is it? Tell me you are kidding,” Grace said.
“Wish I could, kiddo, but you tell me if I am right,” French replied.
“So, she was gay, too. That makes for interesting motives and interesting investigations. So, that about rules out most of the exes. We need to start looking at the common men in our victims lives. There has to be something there,” Grace said.
“I agree with you there, Tiny. I am going to go back to the station and start processing what I can. What do you want to do?” French asked her.
“I think we’ll go back to the station and wait on the CSU. I am going to type up my notes and preliminary thoughts about the scene and add them to the case file. Then, I am going home and getting ready for my date,” Grace said.
“With Reagan?” French asked.
“If you must know, yes, it is with Reagan,” Grace answered.
“I told you. I told you. I told you. There, now, I am done,” Frenchy teased her mercilessly.
“Not another word, French, or it will be your last, got me,” Grace teased.
“If you say so, but I don’t think Martha would appreciate that.”
“Maybe not, but then I wouldn’t have to deal with your endless teasing,” Grace said.
“But, I thought that is why you loved me,” French said with mock sadness in his voice, and a slight pout.
“Don’t give me that crap or you’ll be walking back to the station.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“Try me, Frenchy, and find out,” Grace warned.
French opened his mouth to say something and then thought the better of it. He knew that she didn’t warn often but when she did, she usually meant every word of it. He like his partner. She was thorough and could take his banter when many couldn’t. He like Grace and didn’t want to piss her off. He knew how hard it was to try and solve a case when your partner isn’t working with you on it. He didn’t want to piss her of because he liked having the help on the cases. Grace looked over at him and smiled. She knew what he was going to say and just shook her head.
“Get in the truck and let’s go, French.”
“Okie dokie,” he replied, getting in.
They arrived back at the station. They went into the squad room without much fanfare and without much discussion. They saw Danica at their desks waiting on them, when they walked in.
“Well?” she asked.
“It was the same guy,” French said.
“Same approach, but no mud this time,” Grace told her.
“Anything else?”
“Yep, she was a lesbian, too.”
“So, that works for your motive, right, O’Shea?” Danica asked.
“Yeah, but we may have some better DNA this time. It looked like he dropped a cigarette butt and left a huge bloody print on a tree trunk. By the way, I am testing the mud there too. You know, just in case,” Grace answered.
“More mud? Grace, I thought I told you about that. Why more mud?”
“Won’t it have to wait, until tomorrow?” French asked, pointing at the clock.
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask beforehand does it?” Grace asked in answer.
“No, but why does she have to wait?” Danica inquired.
“Because I have a date tonight,” Grace answered, glaring at French.
“Yeah, with Reagan,” he added.
Chapter Eighteen
Grace got home at five ‘til six. She rushed upstairs and changed. She didn’t know what to wear and decided that this was just a casual dinner so nothing extravagant. She decided to go with her normal club scene outfit. It consisted of tight blue jeans, a tight black shirt that hugged her perfectly, accenting her muscular frame and white collared button up shirt. She looked at herself in the mirror and admired her cockiness. She shook her head and ditched the white shirt. She grabbed a black t-shirt.
“It’s too hot,” she told herself.
She looked at the clock. It was six o’clock. She ran down the stairs and out the back door. So much for being on time, she thought. She decided that cutting through their yards was quicker than taking the truck by road.
She ran all the way to Reagan’s place. She stood on the back porch and collected herself, catching her breath and rearranging her hair before she knocked on the door. She smiled when she saw Reagan appear at the door.
“Right on time,” Reagan said, opening the door and allowing Grace to enter.
“I do try,” Grace replied.
“Go have a seat in front of the TV. I am sure you remember where it is. I am almost done in the kitchen,” Reagan said.
“No problem,” Grace stated, walking into the living room.
Grace watched Reagan in the kitchen. She smiled at the sight of Reagan running around in a pair of loose fitting, hip hugging, boot cut jeans. The dark green, scooped neck blouse was totally accenting Reagan’s hazel eyes. She looked ravishing. Grace thought about it for a second and then realized that she needed to get her libido in check.
