Friday brought another body. The omega had been found on a local construction site, eyes shut, hands clasped, and pants split. When they reached the scene, Dr. Garmin was already on the other side of the police tape, kneeling beside the body.

As they approached the tape, the uniformed police officer guarding the crime scene waved Gunnar and Juanita over. The officer was a slight, dark brown woman with her hair in tight twists framing a heart-shaped face. She had the scent of an omega, a mix of cinnamon and peppermint. Her voice was all cop as she said, "No positive ID on the victim. We have a couple of officers knocking on doors, but it's mostly warehouses and offices in this area. We think the body was left here sometime overnight, but the regular crew was on another site, so nobody discovered it until a civilian called it in."

Gunnar looked around for the good samaritan.

"Caller didn't stay or give a name. The victim was found barefoot, and I'm giving it 50-50 that someone stole his shoes." Probably the same anonymous tipster. Neither of them needed to say it.

After putting on their protective footwear and latex gloves, Gunnar and Juanita ducked under the police line. The victim was thin, too skinny, and in the slack sleep of death, his cheek and collarbones jutted sharply from his waxen skin. His hair was honey brown. Like Reese, the crotch area of his pants had been cut, revealing light blue briefs, that on first glance seemed to be the same silk fabric as the underwear Reese had been dumped in.

As they got closer to the body, Juanita exclaimed in Spanish, "I know him!"

"What? You know him?"

"Yes. From back when I was a beat cop. He goes by Twitches. He's homeless. I know there's some mental illness involved, and he self-medicates."

Another low-risk victim. How many other omegas had been murdered without anyone noticing?

"Did Twitches turn tricks?"

"If he did, not often. They called him Twitches because he was high-strung. Always moving." Juanita shook her head. "It's strange to see him so still."

Strange and tragic. "Is that his natural hair color?"

"Si. He wore it longer though, and most of the time didn't shave."

Twitches looked freshly shaved now. His hair was clean and combed, just a little along, but not enough to pull back and tie.

Dr. Garmin looked up. "Manual strangulation."

"Can you get his mouth open?" Would there be a shriveled flower petal in the back of his throat, like with Reese?

"He still in rigor. I'll have to take him back to the lab. But there were flower petals scattered around his body. Most blew away, but I bagged a couple which had gotten caught up in his clothes. First glance, I'd say roses. White. But I'll need a second opinion from an expert."

Gunnar nodded, but he didn't expect much help on the flower angle. They'd already visited dozens of local shops to find out that roses were a common order and often paid for in cash. He'd asked about the roses in the San Diego case, but that body had been left in a local community garden. If there had been additional flower petals, that detail might have been overlooked by the CSI team.

"The underwear this time is blue," Juanita noted. "But Twitches was an omega. He ran with a group, and a couple of the alphas watched out for them. Women. You’d think they were twins, both built like brick tanks and as vicious as they came, except with their harem. That's what we called Twitches’ group.

"Maybe one of the others saw something."

"Maybe. I'll see if I can't track them down. They know me. And we got along. I didn't hassle them. I figured if you were living under a bridge, you already put up with enough hassle."

Gunnar nodded. With the second case and the third probable murder in San Diego, they would definitely have to talk to the chief about what to do next. Especially if the press got involved. Gunnar would rather have that conversation after he had some solid leads.

Gunnar glanced down at Twitches again. His hair was almost exactly the same length as Liam’s and the same color. It was disconcerting. Not to mention the flowers. The likelihood of any of this being connected to Liam's past was beyond remote. Liam had lived on the opposite side of the country, and Gunnar knew how cautious he was about his privacy. But Gunnar couldn't shake the feeling that Liam was in danger. He’d avoided using the NCIC databases to look into Liam’s past. Gunnar had given his word. Now though, with the third body, Gunnar needed to learn more about Liam’s ex. If only to quell his own fears.

"I want to come with you when you talk to the rest of Twitches’ group." It was going to be a long afternoon and possibly a longer night. Gunnar shot Liam a quick text explaining how he might be late. He didn't expect a response. He’d considered buying Liam a new phone. He could get a pay-as-you-go smartphone, why he clung to the antique flip phone was beyond Gunnar. Maybe he’d surprise Liam with a new phone for his birthday.

Gunnar didn’t even know his lover’s birthday. Or where on the East Coast Liam had fled from.

After a fruitless canvassing of the neighborhood, Gunnar and Juanita made their way to Twitches old stomping grounds. It had started to rain, a sort of misty drizzle that soaked into your clothes no matter if you held an umbrella or not.

Gunnar held back and let Juanita do the talking. This was her beat. She chatted and glad-handed with an ease that made Gunnar feel slightly inadequate. Eventually, one of the neighbors directed them to a low underpass and underused entrance to the interstate.

A small group was seated on various crates and what looks like a rescued sofa and loveseat, around a barrel fire. It wasn't cold, but the chilly misty rain soaked through everything, and Gunnar couldn't blame them for trying to stave it off. Someone had placed a makeshift grill over the top, and the smell of cooking meat grew stronger as the detectives approached. A tall, broad-shouldered, Amazonian woman stood up from the loveseat, dislodging a slight, neon pink haired woman who had been resting her head on the Amazon's knee.

"Who's there?" The Amazon shouted, her voice echoing beneath the underpass, which had started to rattle as a car passed.

The area around their fire was tidier than the narrow strip of cracked sidewalk around it. Juanita stopped just before a large shopping cart half-full of empty bottles and cans. "It’s Juanita, do you remember me? You cut your hair, Annabel. It suits you."

The blonde buzz cut with a single spike of purple over her right eye did suit her.

"And you're not in uniform, Nita. I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Got a promotion. Detective Hernandez now."

"We don't deal drugs, you know that. And I don't pimp." Annabel’s nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air. "Who's the alpha?"

"My partner. We're not here to jam you up. You haven't seen Twitches around, have you?"

The pink haired caucasian woman, a girl who looked to be in her early teens, glanced over at one of the others, a thin, African-American man with dreadlocks tipped with the occasional small, white shell.

"Haven't seen him for days," Annabel said.

The man asked, "He's not dead, is he?"

The pink haired woman drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "They’re homicide. He's dead."

"Whatever happened, we had nothing to do with it.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Juanita asked.

“The day before yesterday, he was just gone. Liz and I looked. And we put the word out if anything happened to him, they'd have to deal with us. I mean, we have a strongly worded conversation. Nothing to get the cops involved. No offense, Nita."

"None taken," Juanita said. "We're just trying to find out what happened."

"So it wasn't an overdose," the other alpha, similar in size to Annabel but with a more olive tone to her skin, and dark brown, curly hair, said from the battered sofa.

"Can we come over to chat with you?" Juanita asked.

"You’re cops. You're going to do what you want."

"Just trying to be polite."

"Better than the last guy."

"Rodriguez?"

"No. An alpha. Narcotics, I'm guessing. Blond, starched and pressed with shoes that looked like he's skimming off the top. Said his name was Anders."

The only Detective Anders Gunnar knew was middle-aged and balding, and he worked cold cases. But Gunnar was new to this area.

Juanita didn't bat an eyelash. "Never met him."

"I don't think he was from around here. He said he was off the clock, looking for his brother, but his eyes were flat, you know, like a shark."

Blond guy. Fake badge? "When did he come around?" Gunnar asked. "Did he talk to Twitches?"

"He talked to me," Annabel said, a hint of steel in her tone.

"He was looking at Twitches though, a lot," the pink haired girl said. "I think he was into him. You can tell. I thought it was weird."

Annabel gave her a sharp glare. "Bev."

Juanita said, "I just have a couple of questions. I can't get into the details, but his death wasn't an accident. We want to find out who was responsible."

Annabel said, "I see.” She nodded. "Just you, Nita, if you're being polite. Ask your partner to stay where he is."

Gunnar nodded. Maybe he would have been better off to let Juanita handle it on her own, but it was his job to watch his partner’s back. It was also his job to watch his partner's hands, just in case Juanita, like Ray, got careless. Or deliberately fucked things up.

Trust in his partners used to come easily to Gunnar. He missed those days.

Juanita stepped past a shopping cart and went over to the fire. She asked questions, though Gunnar could only pick up a word or two at random over the intermittent rattling from above. When Juanita was finished, she shook hands with both alphas and handed her business card for the pair of them as well as each of the omega's gathered around.

"Any luck?" Gunnar asked as they walked back to the car.

"Not much more than we had already learned, I think the most interesting thing was ‘Detective Anders.’"

"The only Anders I know is in cold cases."

"Definitely not Liberty PD. One of the omegas saw his badge. It was older than ours and a slightly different shape. This Anders kept his thumb over the first two letters. Bev noticed it. They didn't tell him much."

"You think Mr. Anders snatched up Twitches later?"

Juanita flicked the turn signal and sighed. "I don't know. What you're saying sounds like something out of a movie. Or TV. The motivation for murder is usually money, power, revenge, and sometimes sex. This guy, he's hunting. And I don’t know why. Revenge? Maybe he hates omegas? Makes me shiver."

It made Gunnar shiver too. Especially because, with three bodies he'd found so far, Liam fit the killer's profile. Gunnar said, "We have to talk to the commander. If the San Diego case is connected, this is someone working across state lines."

"Valens isn't going to want to get the feds involved."

Gunnar didn't either. It was more than simply a collar. Whoever this was hunted omegas, and as an alpha, Gunnar had a personal stake. "I don't want to get forced off of this case," Gunnar said. "You know I'm seeing someone, right?"

"I figured. The dark cloud over you hasn't been quite as dark for the past couple of weeks. The veterinarian, right?"

"It's that obvious?"

"He's the only new man in your life. I'm a detective, give me some credit."

Gunnar laughed. "Liam's good. Great! Nothing like Adam. It’s odd, but I think that's a good thing. And Olivia adores him."

They turned left. Juanita said, "I'm happy for you. Does he have a brother? A nice beta, 6’1”, good with dogs?"

Liam had never mentioned any siblings, and Gunnar had ever asked. Things felt so serious between them, but Gunnar hardly knew so many basic facts about his lover. And he didn’t want to push. Liam was still young, and in spite of his enthusiasm, inexperienced. Gunnar’s life came with a difficult job and a kid. He wasn’t going to force Liam into that life until the omega was sure. And honestly, he didn’t even know the man’s birthday or if he had any brothers or sisters. It was too soon to think about the future, no matter how much Gunnar wanted one.

"Liam’s a farm boy, but… I should ask."

Juanita burst out laughing. "It's like that, is it?"

"He just keeps things to himself. He's not even on Facebook. He had a messy breakup, and he’s scared."

Juanita nodded. "I get it. Mi hermana had the same problem, a couple of years ago before she and Pablo got together. That's her fiancé.” Juanita shook her head. “Paulo’s great, but his sisters, Dios! Planning this wedding is driving me nuts!"

Gunnar nodded.

Juanita had been complaining about planning her sister’s bachelorette party for the past week and a half. Gunnar supposed it was a sign that he and Juanita were getting more comfortable with each other.

He and Adam had had a large wedding, but Gunnar’s three brothers and his best friend, now in LA pursuing his dream to be a screenwriter, had gotten along well. He was the oldest, even the first married, and he married young. His other brothers were still on the market, though they claimed to be too busy with their careers to be looking seriously.

"Your sister-in-law's so-called best friend again?"

"Yeah." Juanita mumbled something under her breath in Spanish. "It was a good thing I was on the force, or they wouldn't have taken her seriously. And the restraining order didn’t do shit. In the end, two of my brothers had to have a conversation with him and send him packing. Even after, Maria was scared to go out by herself for months.” She cursed again. “Did your boyfriend's ex hit him?"

"I don't know. He hasn't said. I don't want to push. But, he fits our killer’s type. Same body type, same hair color. It’s a coincidence, obviously, but after that letter with the newspaper clipping... I don’t know. Liam asked me not to run his background, he’s serious about his privacy, and I’m not on the job with him, but this whole thing has got me nervous."

"Victims don't think straight. They're scared of being a burden, and they’re embarrassed. But if you think there's a connection, however thin, you should look into it."

"I think I'm just paranoid."

"Still, you should look into it."

"Thanks.” Gunnar would need to learn more about his lover before he even attempted to look into his past.

Gunnar put in a request for any information on a Detective Anders, just in case he and Juanita had missed something. Gunnar didn't think so, though. His gut told him that the overly starched blond with the too expensive shoes was their guy. Their killer.

After that, he scheduled an appointment to speak with the commander. Thankfully, the commander wasn’t in the office. Gunnar didn't want to rush things and risk losing his case. The feds had broader resources, but just as often, they slowed things down and fucked things up. Even with the best intentions, coordinating two teams was a challenge, and when things got territorial, it risked lives. Still, he had to make an effort. Especially considering his history with complex investigations.

Dot your Is, and cross your Ts.

It was after 9 PM when Gunnar finally left the station. Two hours late. Liam would be pissed. It only added to Gunnar's guilt.

Tonight, he’d find out his boyfriend’s birthday and where he’d come from, enough, hopefully, to run his information in the NCIC database. He’d break his word with his eyes open. No excuses.

I’m just going to do a cursory check. It's connected to the case. He was only trying to help. Liam never had to know.