Rating: M for Mature language and m/m sex
Also warning for violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters
or products named in this story
Spike is a Homicide detective trying
to stop a serial killer before he strikes
again. Xander is a psychic who offers
to help him.
Important announcement at the end of this chapter.
Turning on to 123th st., Spike had no need to try to
locate individual house numbers. The flashing lights
of three cruisers, one ambulance, and his partners Kia
told him where the scene of the crime could be found.
He noted it was a seemingly quiet, older residential neighborhood.
The building in question was a nondescript brownstone sitting
in the middle of a block of nondescript brownstones.
Since nothing made this one stick out as notable from the others,
Spike had to assume that this was not a random attack.
Pulling up to the curb, Spike jumped out, tugging his
leather badge case out of his back pocket as he went.
Although he recognized the patrol cop stationed at the
perimeter, flashing his badge eliminated the need for pointless
Ducking under the yellow "Police Line" tape that had been
used to rope off the area, Spike held his badge up, face
high and kept going, through the front door and, following
the flurry of activity and the clatter of authoritative sounding voices,
he took the steps two at a time to the second floor.
Leaping up to the landing at the top of the steps, Spike looked
all around. The door immediately to his right was the hub of activity.
Beyond that was another apartment door and two more directly
across the hall. The apartment doors to the left each faced the
victims and Spike held out hope that some snoopy neighbor had
watched through their peep hole and seen something.
The landing he stood on stretched out, hallway like, about twenty feet
ahead ending with a window which faced to the rear of the building.
Standing in front of the window talking quietly with a female patrol
officer, was his partner. Without pause to check the victim, Spike
headed straight for the detective whose face lit up when she saw him
Spike was somewhat surprised to see how put together his partner
looked. Hair combed, dress pants and clean white shirt.
For not the first time he caught himself wondering if she ever slept.
"Hey, look who finally made it. Didn't interrupt a hot night with a cheap
tart did we?"
Spike laughed at the thought of how well that name fit Angel.
He wished he could tell her the truth. He was sure she would
understand. He had never known her to be judgmental.
Still....it was a chance he just couldn't take.
"Yeah, something like that. So what have we got? Please tell me it's
a domestic gone wrong or a robbery turned bad. Please don't
tell me it's another one."
Faith led the way into the victim's apartment. Through the living room
to a small breakfast area off the tiny kitchen. As soon as he had stepped
inside the pervasive unmistakable odor of death filled his nose and throat.
It was something he was sure he would never get used to.
When he first started in homicide it was a thought that nearly obsessed him.
How a person could be so alive one minute and quickly begin to rot away
at the very second of death.
He had even left a pound of hamburger out on his kitchen counter once
and was astounded that it took three days before it started to stink at the
same level of a decomposing human body after only a few hours.
Standing back, Spike watched as the crime scene photographer took
pictures of the kitchen, the living room, and shot after shot of the victim.
The ambulance attendants, with an empty body bag slung over the
tall ones shoulder, stood off to the side discussing the score of
last night's ball game and why the Cleveland Indians didn't stand a chance
against the Boston Red Socks.
As soon as the pictures were done, the crime scene processors waited
patiently till Spike and Faith had the chance to note the particulars of
"Fuck!" Spike circled the body and spoke quietly, hoping only Faith
could hear the concern and frustration in his voice.
"Young, female, long dark hair, fully dressed, posed on her stomach, arms
straight out as if she were prostrating herself. Exactly like the other
three. Do you know if......?"
"No. No way to know till the autopsy."
Faith's eyes darted around to make sure no one else was listening.
It was the one bit of evidence that had never been discussed much less
released to the press. The killers calling card. The one thing that told
them they were dealing with a serial maniac.
With a tip of his head, Spike signaled they should step out and allow
the techs to collect whatever evidence they could find, bag the body
and hopefully give them something to work with.
"Go ahead on out, I'll be right there."
Spike tapped out a cigarette and watched as Faith returned to speak
again to the patrol officer standing guard outside the crime scene.
Holding off just long enough to step outside the building, he struck the
match and sucked in deeply trying his best to erase the odor that seemed
to have permanently coated the lining of his sinuses.
Tensing when he felt the small hand press into the center of his back, Spike
turned and cringed as the light from the brownstone's security light shone
down and reflected off the noticeable scar across Faith's slim pale neck.
He could never shake the guilt that if not for his momentary distraction
he would have saved her sooner.
"So what do you think? Is it our boy again? That would make four in
as many months."
Taking one last deep drag, Spike dropped his cigarette and ground it out
with the toe of his boot.
"We really need to wait till the medical examiner's report comes in, but
if I was to make an on the spot guess, I'd guess the bastard has struck
again. Fuck, Faith, I just feel like we're missing something. Like the
answer is right here in front of us and we can't see it."
Faith who stood with her hand still on his back began rubbing small circles
feeling the tension in his muscles. She knew Spike took everything too
personally. She knew he was feeling like it was his fault that another
one died, but damn it, they were doing their best.
"Look, it's almost 2:00 a.m. Why don't we give them a chance to wrap things
up here and we can grab a couple hours sleep. I'll meet you back at the
station around 7:00 and we can sit down with all the evidence. Maybe
this one isn't even related to the others. Maybe this is just a straight out
lover's quarrel turned deadly. Let's wait and see before we get too
bent out of shape."
Spike hung his head, nodding slightly. He knew everything she was saying
was bull shit and worse, he knew she knew it too. Neither of them would
get any sleep. Not today. Probably not till this was over.
With nothing else to say, both detectives walked down the steps and,
getting into their respective cars, drove away.
Each side of the front walkway had been yellow taped off with a patrol
officer standing by to keep the gawkers and snoops back.
Even at this hour of the morning, the streets of the city were alive with
activity. Dog walkers, late night drunks, joggers and insomniacs.
Newspaper reporters begging for just one picture, coaxing the
line officers for any tid bit of information they could use to scoop the
Living for the profit made off drama and trauma.
At least a dozen or so citizens lined both sides of the barricades trying
their best to see what all the excitement was. Hoping to glimpse a bit of
blood and human tragedy.
Standing slightly apart from the others in the back of the pack, stood a
lone quiet figure. Dressed all in black, he loomed silently, watching,
observing, more interested in the criminologists than the crime.
He noted that the handsome blond man and the slim dark haired
woman appeared to be in charge. Satisfied that they would be
the one's to contact, the young man turned and disappeared into
All of you who know me know how compulsive I am (notice I didn't say anal)
anyway, this schedule is not working for me. I need to go back to every day.
I apologize to those who are busy and can't keep up.
There will be breaks around the holidays, but the rest of the story will be a chapter
each morning. Thanks for understanding. Bee.