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Page 7 of Saved By the Lieutenant

“I read through articles of the local papers,” I say with a shrug and a small wry smile. It’s something I’ve always done, I think it’s the journalist in me, always keeping up to date with the latest news. “Three women had died, all of the articles were from different counties or towns, but they all read similar. I've been doing this a long time and something about those articles stayed with me. I don't know what it was, but I knew in my gut they were connected. I just knew it. I couldn't help but dig deep and uncover that all three women were either homeless or prostitutes. They’re all in their mid to late twenties, brunette, and have green eyes. No one cared about them, they weren't looked for.”

My heart hurts for them. All three women are buried but no one turned up to their funerals. I should know. Once I found out they were murdered, I looked into them. All women were in the morgues waiting to be released to a family member. No one claimed them. Not one person looked for them. I wouldn't wish that sort of life on anyone and I hurt for them. That in their final moments they had no one.

“Then another woman died, again, this time a homeless woman, she was exactly the same as the previous victims. I swear, all the women could be sisters, they all look so very similar.”

It hurts my heart that no one other than me has made the connection to these women being murdered. It truly does hurt so very much. Everyone, no matter who they are or what they have done, deserves to have some justice. Being murdered in such a brutal and sickening way and having no one care about you to investigate properly is soul crushing. I wanted to give these women the justice they deserve. I wanted them to findpeace where they know that the animal that hurt them has been brought to justice.

“What about the last two victims?” he asks, and I hate that he’s so close. My gut clenches at the sound of his voice, the deep gravelly tone that I loved so much is still there.

God, it’s been two years since he walked away and broke my heart and yet my body reacts to him. I hate that after all that’s happened between us, I know that I’ll never be over him. The love that I have for Jake isn’t something that can be forgotten. It’s rooted deep within me, it’s soul defining. He broke me. Shattered me. Yet here he is, still looking as beautiful as he did the last time I saw him. Our break up doesn’t seem to have affected him. I hate that, I hate that he's been able to continue with his life while I was stuck in limbo. I couldn't move on. How could I? The man that I loved so deeply and fiercely left after three years without a reason. “It's not working,” wasn't a real excuse. It was a cop out and I deserved to have the truth, after all we'd been through, I thought he'd have at least given me that, I guess I didn't mean as much to him as I thought.

“Amy?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I shake my head. “Sorry?” I ask, wondering what I've missed.

“What about the last two victims?” he questions for the second time.

I press my hand against my chest, feeling the wildness of my heart beating, it's not settled properly since I was attacked. “Liz Monford was a loving mother of two, a devoted wife, and from what everyone has said, a beautiful and kind woman who volunteered weekly at her local shelter and was an active part of her community.” I take a deep breath, talking about the victims helps, I don't have to think about me and what happened last night. “She was taken while out shopping. It was in the evening, she parked in the back of the parking lot, it was covered by overhung trees and was dimly lit. The killer waited for herto load her shopping into the trunk before they struck. Her husband called the police when she didn't return home after a few hours. With how close Liz was in the community, the police took it seriously, but there was no sign of her. It was two days later that her body was uncovered in a field almost ten miles away from where she was taken.”

“What about the latest victim?” he asks, his voice low and tight.

“Three days ago, Monica Michaels went missing, ten days after she came home from her honeymoon. Her husband called the police but as she'd not been missing for twenty-four hours, there wasn't anything the police could do, their hands were tied, it was twelve hours after that call to the police that Monica's body was found by runners. She was twenty-four, she had her entire life ahead of her and she was taken while leaving work.”

“Fuck,” Jake snaps. “How the hell has no one uncovered what this maniac is doing?”

“The killer is smart,” I tell him. “He's never killed in the same place twice. He's ensured that he takes women where there's very little visibility and no cameras. He's done his homework on the victims. I have no doubt that he's watched them, and he's gotten used to their movements. It makes me wonder just how long he'd been watching Monica, especially since it hand’t been long since she’d been back from her honeymoon.”

“That is a good point, we can look into that, see if any of the women commented on feeling as though they've been watched.”

I raise my brows and stare at him. “We?” I ask, unable to keep the bite from my tone.

“You're not leaving, Amy, not until this monster is caught. I can't lose you.”

The laughter that leaves me is filled with anger and bitterness. “I'm not yours to lose. But I'm not stupid, Jake, nomatter what you may think. There's a killer on the loose and I'm in his line of sight.”

“I don't think you're stupid,” he says, his brows knitted together. “I never once thought that.”

I sigh, I really don't want to be doing this with him right now. I'm tired, I'm sore, and I'm beyond scared, but I'll be damned if I let that animal who's killing women ever know that they have me scared. I know that I'm safe right now and going back to Philly would have me in harm's way. I'm doing this because I'm not stupid and I want to live. I can work remotely, I have done it on many occasions, and I'm able to uncover things that others aren't. My methods may not be legal, but they get the job done.

“Tell me about the places that the bodies have been left,” Jake says, changing the subject. “You said that Monica was found by runners Where was her body left?”

“At a park the next town over, she was naked and bloody,” I say through gritted teeth. “Liz was the same, naked and bloody, but in a field. The farmer found her when he was working early that morning.”

Images of last night's attack hit me. I made Peter show me the footage of my attack. I needed to see for myself, needed to know what had happened. I wanted to see if the man who assaulted me was familiar, but the image was too grainy, I couldn’t see him other than his dark clothes. But I saw everything he did to me. Peter was right, I would’ve died had he not shown up when he did.

My heart once again starts to race and I shut my eyes tight, trying my hardest to breathe through the pain of the attack. I know what the killer does to his victims, I know that he kills them brutally. He beats them, strangles them, and then stabs them. Even when dead, he disrespects them by leaving their naked bodies in places where anyone could find them.

“Amy?” Jake asks, his voice soft and comforting.

I flinch when his hand touches my face. I open my eyes and see his dark brown ones filled with pain and hurt. “Talk to me,” he instructs.

“I'm fine,” I bite out, I hate being vulnerable, I hate showing others that I hurt. I learned how to bury everything deep inside when my parents died. Adam raised me, he did his very best to give me everything I could have ever wanted. I hid the pain of losing my parents, not wanting to add to his own turmoil, he gave up everything to ensure that I was safe and cared for. Without him, I dread where I'd have ended up. As the years went on, I continued to hide the pain I felt when around others, only breaking down when I was alone and even then, it was very rare that I did. I think I'm so used to hiding my hurt and pain that I find it hard to let go when I can.

“No, you're not,” he fires back. “Christ, Amy, you're breathing hard, you're pale as can be. You're obviously going through something. Let me help.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” I hiss. “You're the last person I'd ever come to for help. Had I known you were here, I'd never have agreed to come.”

His jaw clenches and he watches me for a beat. “I know I hurt you, I wish I could take away the pain I caused, but I can't. I promise you, Amy, while you're here, you're safe.”


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