Merrville Sheriff's Department

  Dave and Detective Mackey are leaning against the railing on the station's back porch. Both men wear long faces, but Dave's visage is a mask of disbelief and self-hatred. When he finally speaks, the deputy's voice is like dry leaves in autumn.

  "Why did the killer stop? Why did he wait a whole damn month to start killing again? And why those two girls? Why Fell's Springs? It's so far outside of his usual range. I don't get it. I just don't get it, Mack."

  "He saw our team's response to the copycat killer. He may have even hired George to test our capabilities. Throw us off for a bit. Allow him time to collect more victims. The real killer needed time to regroup. So...He took his show elsewhere. Someplace, he figured we wouldn't look. And he was right."

  "I hate that, Mackey. I hate that that murdering son of a bitch was right about us. He anticipated our moves. He knew we'd want to wrap this up. I don't know how you and Sheriff Northrop do it, but I admire your instincts. I...I just needed that George fella to be our man. But I was wrong. Oh god, was I wrong."

  A silent tear rolls down Dave's left cheek. Detective Mackey puts an arm around his mournful partner's shoulders. Dave glances sidelong at his cop friend.

  "You remember that story I told you, Dave? About the girl who committed suicide after a year of intense bullying? I didn't exactly tell you the whole story," Mackey says.

  "Yeah? I figured as much. It was a bit too hyperbolic and on the nose. What's the real story, Mack?"

  "Girl's mother killed herself about six months after her daughter's bullies were convicted," James says with a grief-stricken expression.

  Dave's jaw drops and he searches for the right words to say. He hadn't expected the bullying story to go even darker. In reality, he'd thought James had made the whole thing up. Detective Mackey continues his narrative in a flat tone.

  "For weeks, I asked myself how it was that I'd missed all the signs. I kept asking myself if...That night she made me homemade pizza...If she wasn't already considering suicide? Could I have helped her? Would it have mattered? I know I'm not perfect, Dave. Believe me, I know. A perfect man could've saved that young mother. A perfect man would've at least tried. I screwed up that time, Dave. I refuse to screw up like that again. I'm here for you, buddy! Cause I know you'd be there for me. You already have been."

  When Detective Mackey finishes talking, he offers Deputy Newsome his other hand to shake. The deputy weakly acquiesces, his spirit not quite in the gesture.

  "It's nothing, Mack. Really. Like you said, we have a job to do. So...Let's do it."

  "Right!" James says. "The lead detective from Fell's Springs is coming to see me bright and early tomorrow morning. Detective Patterson. You know her?"

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  "Can't say as I do," Dave replies, only half-listening to what James is saying. The deputy's mind is still in Fell's Springs.

  "We'll be collaborating with Detective Patterson, since the bodies were found in her jurisdiction. Patterson's daughter, Vivian, actually works for the Castleton Police. Narcotics division. I had no idea."

  Dave's face pales and he shoots Detective Mackey a brief inquisitive glance. The deputy's breath catches as he turns his eyes skyward, scratching a sudden itch which has made itself known in his brain. Detective Patterson? Patterson? That name is familiar. But she wasn't a detective then. One and the same?

  "She? Detective Patterson is a she?"

  "Yes? Why?" Mackey answers suspiciously. "Are you sexist, Dave? Some of the best detectives in Portland were women. They can often get information in ways you or I can't. Don't tell me..."

  "No. Forget I said anything. I was only curious. It's just...This is a pretty tough case for a woman to be on. That's all."

  "Uh-huh. I hear ya, Dave. Now...First things first. Food. I know just the place. I have to pick up a young lady there anyway."

  $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

  Laverne's Seafood Bar and Grill

  Deputy Newsome and Detective Mackey stride into the restaurant. Madison sees the two men coming and walks swiftly around the counter. She nervously wipes both hands on her apron with a thin smile.

  "Deputy Newsome? James? Is everything okay? You said..." Madison begins.

  Detective Mackey shakes his head and Madison grows silent, realizing she would be divulging information the public may or may not already know about. Dave studies Madison admiringly, understanding exactly why the young detective would find her quite a catch. Madison has a calm gentle beauty about her. Even the young woman's voice is especially soothing.

  "Hey, Maddie. Uh, we came to grab a bite to eat. Give us whatever's your special for today," Mackey says.

  "Sure. Uh, that'll be the sirloin steak, with street corn, and roasted red potatoes. Second person eats half-price. The meal also comes with two free drinks per person. So long as you don't leave the restaurant before you pay the tab."

  "Sounds good," Dave replies. "But the drinks will have to be non-alcoholic. As long as this case is open...We're always kind of on-duty."

  "Okay. Coke, then? Just pick a booth. Probably one closer to the back. In case you need to discuss sensitive business. We've already had our dinner rush so you should be okay back there."

  "Thanks, Maddie," James says.

  The sad detective's eyes say a lot more than his words could ever convey. Madison watches James' face with slitted brown eyes.

  "No problem. I'll bring you your drinks while your food is being prepared."

  Madison turns to leave. Mackey gently grips the slightly younger woman's left hand to keep her in place.

  "Madison, I...,"

  The young waitress's heart beats as if it will leap from her chest. She intensely studies James' solemn countenance.

  "Yes?"

  Mackey flounders, trying to come up with just the right words to say what is on his mind. He comes up blank again and again. Dave's sly grin and subtle sidelong staring doesn't help matters any.

  "Thanks again, Maddie. I'll be here when you get off work. I'll take you home in my car."

  Madison offers James a polite smile. She toys with the tiny notepad in her apron pocket and uneasily peers at Dave.

  "I'd better get these orders back to the kitchen."

  Turning quickly away, Madison wipes at the solitary tear traversing her right cheek.