Detective Partners (20 page)

Lopez sighed. "There goes the strip club."

Galen parked across the street from the crime scene and turned off the ignition. He shifted in his seat and glanced over at Nicole. Catching her rubbing her forehead, he said softly, "There's Tylenol in the glove compartment."

"Thank you, but I'm fine." Nicole reached for the door handle.

"Wait." He stopped her with a hand on her arm.

She gazed down at his hand and then at him. "What?"

"How do you really feel?" he asked, searching her face.
"The truth this time."

Nicole sighed heavily. "My head hurts, my hand hurts and-" She rubbed her forehead again. "My whole body hurts."

"Then why did you lie and tell me that you were fine?" Galen demanded to know.

"Because I'm not going to whine to you about every little ache and pain," she snapped.

With a muttered curse, he grabbed the plastic bottle of Tylenol from the glove compartment and tossed it at her. "Take the damn Tylenol."

"Fine."
She downed two tablets with some water. "There. Are you happy?"

"For now."
Galen opened the door. "Come on, Goodwin. Let's get this over with."

"I'm coming." Nicole got out and joined him in front of the car. "I'm sorry."

He turned and stared down at her.
"What for?"

"For being so difficult."
She smiled at him weakly. "I'm not used to having someone look after me."

Galen touched her cheek with the back of his hand. "Get used to it."

They headed across the street, Galen shortening his stride so Nicole could keep up. When they reached the yellow police tape, he raised it high enough for Nicole to walk under. She flashed him a grateful look as she brushed past him. He ducked slightly and let the tape go behind him. Following her up the sidewalk, he watched as members of the CSI unit and officers turned and
looked at Nicole. Galen remembered how much she hated being the center of attention. He shot them a filthy look and they averted their gaze.

Dr. Cain, who was kneeling beside the body, glanced up and saw Galen and Nicole approaching. "Welcome back, dear," she said to Nicole.

"Thank you."

"Maxwell, are you taking care of our girl?" the doctor asked.

"I'm trying, but she's not cooperating much." He squatted down on the other side of the body and studied it. Like the first victim, his throat was slashed and the word "
Peccator
" had been written on his midriff with his own blood. "What have
you-
"

"Damn it," Nicole murmured, sinking to her knees.

Galen arched an eyebrow at her. "What's the problem, Goodwin?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a weary sigh. "I know the victim. His name is Randall Rice." She glanced at Dr. Cain. "Did you find drugs on him?"

"Yes," she answered. "I also found a large amount of cash."

Galen frowned at Nicole. "How did you know him?"

"I met him three years ago while I was working on a case. I needed information on someone. He helped me get it. Through working together, I learned some things about him. He had no one in his life. His father left when he was a child and his mom died from cancer. He needed money, so he started selling drugs. Soon he wasn't just selling them, but using them as well. I made a deal with him. If he would stop selling drugs and go to rehab to get clean, I would help him get a job. He agreed to my deal and went to rehab. After he got out I helped him get a job and an apartment." She shook her head sadly. "He was doing so well."

"The odds were stacked against him from the start," Galen said. "Once you get into drugs it's hard to get away from them."

"I know," she mumbled, "but I had high hopes for him. I thought he would make it." Suddenly tired, she leaned against Galen. "When you release his body, doc, I want you to release it to me. He told me once that when his mom died he had her cremated and scattered her ashes in the bay. I want to do the same for him. I couldn't save him, but I can give him the burial he deserves."

Dr. Cain reached out and squeezed Nicole's arm gently. "I'll have him cremated when the time comes and then I'll call you and you can pick up his ashes."

"Thank you." Nicole kissed her fingertips and then pressed them to Randall's forehead. She bowed her head and closed her eye.

"Let's give her a minute alone with him," Dr. Cain said, straightening up.

"All right."
Galen stood and followed the doctor. They paused a short distance away and turned to watch Nicole. "She can pray for him all she wants, but we both know where he's heading."

"There's no harm in praying, Maxwell." She removed her latex gloves and shoved them into her pocket. "Maybe God will hear her prayer and answer it. She should be home resting."

"I agree with you." He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. "I tried to get her to go home, but she wouldn't budge. The woman is stubborn as a mule."

Dr. Cain smirked. "Kind of like someone else I know." She winked at him and then grew serious once more. "We officially have a serial killer on our hands, Maxwell."

"I know we do," Galen said. "It's only a matter of time before he strikes again. I suppose there were no fingerprints or foreign hair left behind."

"None," she replied. "The sick bastard is being careful. He knows what he's doing."

"Yes, he does." Galen saw Nicole raise her head. "She's going to need help getting up." He and the doctor moved toward her. Once they reached her, he bent down, took her by the arms and helped her to her feet.

"Thank you," Nicole croaked. "My legs are asleep. Would you mind holding on to me for a few minutes?"

"Take your time," he told her.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Dr. Cain said. "I need to speak with Garcia." She turned and walked away.

"I'm sorry about your friend," Galen said gently.

Nicole looked down at the body and then back up at him. "I'm angry with him, but then I'm also sad. He was young and had his whole life ahead of him. He threw it all away on what, a quick high and some fast money. I just wish I could have helped him more."

"Hey." He tucked several strands of hair behind her ear. "You did all that you could. Don't be angry with yourself. As sad and as screwed up as it
is these things
happen."

"I want this Judas caught, Galen," she said, her eye filled with anger. "I want him to pay for what he's done. Randall didn't deserve to die like this. No one does."

"We will get him," Galen vowed. "I don't know when and I don't know how, but we'll get him."

"I hope so," she said. Her eye traveled over his face and came to rest on his mouth. She thought about the kiss and a tremor raced through her.

"Don't think about it," he said huskily, feeling her shake. "We have to forget it happened."

"I know," she whispered, "but the truth is I don't want to forget."

"Neither do
I
," he admitted, "but we have to try."

"You're right." Nicole took a few steps back. "You can let go now. I'm all right."

He knew she wasn't, but for once, he didn't argue with her. With regret, he let her go.

C
hapter  21

It was Monday evening, one week later. Nicole was in the conference room, studying the letters and the photographs of the victims'. There were now three victims'. Three nights ago, Judas picked up a prostitute, took her to a secluded area and did to her what he had done to the others. Like the last two crime scenes, there had not been any DNA to link Judas to the murder. He had the upper hand and what was worse he knew it.

Nicole reached out and touched Randall's photo. She had spoken to Dr. Cain earlier in the day. The doctor informed her that Randall had been cremated. Nicole had plans to pick up the ashes tomorrow and scatter them in the bay. Galen promised her that he would accompany her. Thoughts of her partner filled her head and sent a warm feeling coursing through her. It had been a week since they kissed. With each day that passed, they tried their hardest to forget it happened. With each day that passed, they failed. The memory and the feelings they shared were always there beneath the surface. All it took was a look or a touch to bring it all rushing back. The tension between them was starting to take its toll on both of them.

"What are you doing?" Galen asked, stepping into the room.

The sound of his voice caused her heart to skip a beat. She silently cursed her body for betraying her. "I'm studying the letters and the photos," she answered, relieved that her voice was steady.

Galen joined her at the corkboard, where the letters and photos were affixed with thumbtacks. "Have you watched the news recently?"

"No," Nicole said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because someone leaked information about Judas to the media," he answered. "It's on all the local news channels. The public now knows that there is a serial killer targeting the lowlife of San Francisco. Something tells me Judas is going to be pissed when he finds out."

She sighed and rubbed the back of her aching neck. "This just keeps getting worse. Before this is all over we're going to need a bigger corkboard." She shook her head. "If I was anything like my father I would head to the nearest bar and get plastered."

"If you were anything like your father I would be getting you help," Galen stated. "Have you ever had alcohol?"

"Once."
Nicole hugged herself as the memory came flooding back. "It was in high school. Kyle took me to a party. Someone offered me a beer and I took it. One beer turned into two and before I knew it, I was drunk. Kyle got me out of there before something bad happened. I stayed at his house to sleep it off and went home the next morning. When I got home, I found Dad waiting for me. He was angry that I didn't come home the night before. He wanted to know where I had been and whom I had been with. I won't tell you the names he called me. I'll let you use your imagination. Anyway, he smelled the alcohol on me and became enraged. He beat me so badly that I had to crawl to my room. I couldn't stand up to walk. It hurt too much."