I sat in my car outside Andy’s place and tried to go over the details Donnelly had just given me on the new victim. This time nothing had interrupted the killer, and now I was sure this was number five. The newest one, Chad Pembrooke, was a young man in his early twenties, physically similar to the other victims. Again, I didn’t have much detail and it was frustrating me. I was dying to get my hands on the case file, but I didn’t know how I’d accomplish that.

As I’d listened to Donnelly read the report to me I had a moment of déjà vu. The killer was back and Pembrooke’s proximity to Andy was too close for my comfort. I made a mental note to ask around on my way to where Andy was staying.

I’d gone through the list of friends, family, and coworkers Andy had given me. It was only a criminal background search, and other than some misdemeanors, nothing had stood out.

I got out of my car and made my way inside the building of Francis and Andy’s apartment, then up to the second floor. The crime scene tape hung down on either side of the door and the seal was broken. I removed my Glock from where it rested heavy and comforting along my ribs. I raised my arm to aim, took a deep, steadying breath and turned the knob, easing the door open.

I made entry, swept the interior, and cleared rooms one by one. When I was satisfied I was alone, I put my weapon away. I strode to the center of the apartment and mentally reconstructed what happened from the information from previous murders and Andy’s retelling of when he’d arrived home.

The suspect entered through the door. Why did he pick someone with a roommate? This was the first victim that didn’t live alone. Was that the point? The suspect wanted to up the stakes and take out two victims in one night; was that the plan? Each previous murder was planned in minute detail. Was the killer’s desperation turning him sloppy?

I strode to Francis’ room. The blood splatter and spray spoke of a violent confrontation. Again, a mistake made on the killer’s part. Each victim before was taken without struggle, as if the killer had attacked while the target slept, but Francis appeared to have fought back. The bed clothes were thrown back as if Francis’ had removed them as he surged from the bed. Could that mean the killer became injured during the attack? A few calls to the local hospitals to inquire about any patients who may have been injured in a fight made it to my list. Although, that would turn into a rabbit hole I’d never escape from just for the fact that the suspect list could expand by hundreds.

Come back to me, the message was left carved into Francis and, now, Pembrooke’s chest. It was confusing, and I hated not having the answers.

“What the hell are you doing here, Clancy?”

I spun and automatically reached for my weapon but groaned as I realized Green stood in the opened doorway of the apartment. I was seriously losing my touch if I didn’t hear the door open or worse, didn’t even think about closing it behind me.

“Just picking some stuff up for a friend of mine. Andy needs some clothes.”

I didn’t trust anyone and letting my former commanding officer know about even my limited involvement hadn’t made it to my to-do list.

Andy seemed like a good kid. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But there was something about him I couldn’t ignore, and it wasn’t only him in need of my help or protection.

“Didn’t think the barely legal was your type.”

“Fuck you, Green. What are you doing here?”

“I’m a cop, the question is what are you really doing here? You don’t have a badge anymore.”

“I think I already answered that. Andy needed some clothes.” I had a feeling Green was trying to trip me up, but he was an idiot if he thought I’d make that kind of mistake.

“Why don’t I supervise while you—”

I walked out of Francis’ room and toward Andy’s, Green followed me as I knew he would. While trying to ignore Green, I found the duffel bag in Andy’s closet and tossed it back onto the unmade bed. Three suit bags, one of them empty, hung in the closet, and I recognized the name of the tailor. I whistled through my teeth. I didn’t want to guess how much those three single suits cost.

Andy would have to go back to work at some point, so, I carefully removed them from the closet, and then laid them across the bed and folded the empty to place in the overnight bag.

“Whatever fucked up idea you got in your head, Clancy, this ain’t a repeat.”

“That’s what you want to believe. You can’t tell me you aren’t suspicious. I fucking swear you and the higher ups will cover this up until the body count gets so high y’all can’t ignore that this guy is a serial. More kids are going to die because you can’t get your head out of your ass and warn them.”

“We’ve never had a serial in New West City.”

The stupidity of the city’s police force astounded me more every day. This city at its core was a cesspool. Corruption reigned supreme and no one wanted to address the issue. They’d rather pretend and let innocents get caught in the crossfire. I’d spent my entire life in New West, this wasn’t the utopia the city government tried to imagine it was. Dirty cops were an epidemic.

“You can believe that if you want, but facts are different from fiction, and you and the brass have been putting a spin on the truth for decades.”

I quickly packed up clothes and rechecked Andy’s messages to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. To be on the safe side I grabbed an e-reader and chargers from beside Andy’s bed.

“Clancy, stay off my case.”

“Duly noted.”

I slung the straps of the bag over my shoulder and picked up the suit bags. As I went to pass Green, he grabbed my arm.

“You don’t back off, I’ll make sure you rot in jail.”

“You don’t want to threaten me. That wife of yours would love to know about that sweet piece you keep tucked away. Isn’t he the same age as Sam? Twenty, right? Graduated with your son, didn’t he?”

I took satisfaction in the color fading from Green’s face. It wasn’t a well-kept secret, but Green’s wife was a sweet woman. She had no idea about the bastard she truly had for a husband. I wasn’t one to judge for getting a bit of strange on the side. That was a couple’s business. Yet that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take Green down in a heartbeat.

“Don’t fuck with me, Green. You don’t have any power over me anymore. And if I ever get proof that you’re giving up the young gay kids in New West as sacrificial lambs, I’ll take you out in a fucking second.”

I pulled away from his suddenly slack grip and strode to the door. I took the steps to the first floor and exited the building. Before getting into the driver’s side, I stowed Andy’s belongings on the passenger seat. I checked the street and pulled out into the slow-moving afternoon traffic.

My brain wouldn’t shut down with all the what-ifs and the growing lists of mistakes the killer had made. It wasn’t their M.O. and I started to wonder if they’d happened on purpose as a way to call someone out—to call me out. I glanced into my rearview mirror and recognized Green’s car. That wouldn’t do, so, as I made my way toward Andy I took a left, then a right, and another left, and the car remained on my tail.

The traffic light ahead was about to turn red and I gunned the engine. I drove into the intersection and took a sharp right. Car horns and curses came through the open windows of my car, but it had served its purpose. Green was stuck at the light. What’s the worst that could happen? A traffic ticket. My glove box was filled with those.

I didn’t want to take any more chances and started driving straight to where Andy was staying. I’d park, drop off Andy’s things, and then walk to the newest crime scene. Another twenty minutes passed before I reached the address Andy gave me.

After some creative use of profanity, I found a parking space down the block. I hurried back to the entrance. I double checked the apartment number and made my way up. A couple arguing, their raised voices easily traveled through a door. A baby crying. Children’s laughter.

I stopped in front of an apartment door and raised my hand, I knocked.

“Andy, it’s Clancy.”

I announced myself to put the young man at ease. I smiled as the door cracked open and Andy peeked through the crack. His dark hair covered one eye. I still couldn’t get over how pretty Andy was and inwardly jerked at the inappropriateness of my thoughts. I shouldn’t notice anything about the kid because I was only there to try to keep him safe.

“Hi, Ray.” Andy backed up, opening the door as he went.

“I think I got everything you asked for,” I said as I entered the apartment and handed over the bags.

“Thank you.”

Super soft fingertips grazed over my hand, and I tried to mask the moment I jerked back. The corners of Andy’s wide, full lips were pulled into a shy smile. I brought my attention to the space. It was a feminine place with all those homey touches that made a home a home. My house looked shabby in comparison. The last time I’d gone there I’d made mental notes to take care of dusting and laundry.

“Nice place.”

“Elise has been really nice about letting me stay. You brought my suits?”

“I figured you’d have to go back to work at some point and wanted to make sure you didn’t have to go back to the apartment. Have you thought about what you’re going to do about a place to live?”

“Elise said that I could stay with her as long as I wanted, but I’d love to have my own space. Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made a pot.”

“That would be great.”

I observed as Andy carefully hung the suits in a tiny closet off the living room, and then I followed him to the kitchen.

“Did you find anything?”

The question had a definite vocal shake in it, and I made myself take a seat at the small table instead of trying to comfort the young man. That wasn’t my responsibility. Yeah, I had a soft spot for the kid. He was in a shitty situation and he was scared, I didn’t even want to have something inappropriate happen. I had to remind myself that I needed to keep a professional distance.

I removed my jacket and twisted to hang it on the back of my chair. I caught him staring at my gun.

“Safety is on, it’s a tool of the trade.”

“Do you have to use it a lot?”

“No, not really; P.I.’s don’t really have the exciting lives that are portrayed on television. Sometimes I wish, just to break up the boredom a bit.”

Andy darted a glance at me and gave another one of those sweet smiles. I needed to change the subject, get my thoughts away from Andy and onto the case.

“Did Francis take any form of self-defense class?” Andy placed two mugs on the table, and I thanked him as I wrapped my hands around one of them.

“Well, he had this crush on this guy at a gym and decided to take a class, but I don’t think it really went anywhere beyond a few classes.”

Andy took a seat and I took in his clothes. It was the same outfit he’d worn when we’d met at Rudy’s. The clothing was clean but they’d seen better days, just like the clothes I’d packed up for him.

“Was Francis a fighter? I found evidence of a struggle. When I was on the case, the killer typically attacked while the victims were sleeping.”

“He wasn’t a fighter, but he wouldn’t back down. He got bullied a lot in high school and swore it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Can you think back for me, did you notice anyone following you, or maybe Francis mentioned someone?”

Andy slowly sipped at his coffee, and I waited for him to think it over.

“Not really, no one following me, and the only thing Francis mentioned was some creepy guy trying to pick him up at Epiphany a month or so ago, but really, that’s not unheard of.”

“Now, was there anything recently that bothered you?”

“Well, I was at the store and I saw Gabin, he works at Augustine’s and is Augustine’s husband. He doesn’t live around here, but he was buying condoms. It was before the newest murder.”

I dug out my notebook and made a note to speak with Gabin.

“Does Gabin have a boyfriend that could work or live in the area?”

“I wouldn’t think so, but Gabin found out Augustine was cheating, so, it could’ve been a revenge hookup.”

“Possibly,” I muttered as I made more notes.

“What are you writing down? You do that a lot.”

“Just notes, one to check out Gabin and maybe ask him a few questions.”

“People normally use smartphones or tablets to take notes.”

“I’m a bit old school. I have boxes of these notebooks I’ve used over the years. Do you mind if I ask you some personal questions?”

“That should be okay.” Andy seemed to get nervous and was using his thumbnail to pick at the printed logo of some diner on his mug.

“Do you have an ex-boyfriend that might hold a grudge or a date that went wrong?”

“I don’t date, work is demanding, and I don’t think I’ve had a boyfriend that would worry about killing someone or me. Do you think someone was after me?”

“No, no, there’s no evidence of that, but we need to cover all the bases.”

I spent the evening asking questions and Andy answering them. It got later, and I offered to buy dinner. We talked about things other than the killings, and I enjoyed the company the young man offered. Andy had a beautiful laugh and again, I was taken aback by my thoughts. I was failing at the professional distance, and I didn’t know how to stop it. If I didn’t keep my head in the game I was going to fuck up this case, and I wanted to catch this guy, get him off the streets, but more than that, I wanted to make sure Andy was safe. And those thoughts were starting to trouble me the most.