Chapter 1

Holder lit a cigarette. He pinched the filter like he was smoking a joint, a familiar habit he had that lingered from his abuser days. He took a long drag, held it for a second before blowing the smoke straight out. He watched as Linden leaned back in her chair, turning her face like she smelled something disgusting. He knew that wasn't the truth. She wanted it and she wanted it bad.

"Finally quit smoking, there Linden?" He placed the filter between his teeth while saying the next sentence. "I knew you missed me. I knew you'd be back."

Sarah looked at him. Her expression was one he was used to. The furrowed brows and pursed lip, something she couldn't exactly pull off with her top lip being the dominate of the two. She always seemed to be weighing her options, figuring out if she really needs to be talking to you or not. He knew it was the detective in her that made her interrogate people. She remained in her seat for the space of a heartbeat before she leaned forward, yanking the cigarette from his mouth. She walked away from the table leaving her coffee cup behind. Holder scrambled to grab the trash and chase after her. "Hey!"

Sarah kept walking, taking drags and blowing the smoke up. He stuffed the coffee cups and donut wrappers into the trash bin. He shook spilled coffee off of his hand as he caught up to her. His internal smartass made him grab the hood of her jacket, wiping his hand dry. She shot him a look that could have meant she was seconds away from shooting him. "What?" she finally barked at him.

"That's my cigarette." She took one more drag and flicked it into a puddle. He pointed at it, "And that's littering. I could bust you for that."

Sarah twisted her pursed lips and bit the inside of her cheek. She bent over picking the damp filter up. With a raise of her eyebrows she tucked it into the top pocket of his jacket. She gave it a nice pat and jogged away.

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Holder pulled his car up alongside of her driving in reverse as she jogged. "Where the hell you going? Linden? Hey Sarah I'm talking to you!"

She looked at him like he sprouted two heads. She was always slow to answer. Always choosing her words carefully. He didn't know if it was because she wanted to sound like she knew what she was talking about or if it was because she didn't want to talk at all. He wasn't like that. He said what was on his mind, as long as it wasn't personal.

"I'm finishing my jog. And you're going back to work." She made a sharp right, jogged up onto the sidewalk and ran down the street. Holder turned the wheel so the car would be facing the street she ran down. He thought about going after her, but knew he had to give her time. She'd come back. He was sure of it. Now all he had to do was convince the chief.

.

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The rain was once again coming down in buckets as Stephen Holder sat in the unmarked. He needed a partner, and not just any partner. He needed her. The chief's answer was a resounding no, followed by an equally resounding slam of his office door. Everyone kept telling him she quit and he should just get used to it. Well fuck that. He wasn't going to get used to shit without her. If she was his partner he'd probably be doing this alone anyway. Linden was always off running, somewhere. Fine if everyone could pretend it was alright, that this was the best thing, he could pretend too. He'd pretend she was his partner again and was only following a lead on her own. He'd still show up at her hotel. He'd still bug the shit out of her. And he'd still convince the captain that he needed her.

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Their case was a 19 year old prostitute but she looked 15. He tossed the photo on her table. Linden immediately picked it up.

"Don't put that there! Christ, Holder I eat there!"

It wasn't a secret that cases gave Linden an eating disorder. She spent time locked away, twice over cases that she got too involved with. Their last case though Linden hadn't really had a problem. It was just an attempt to keep her off the Larson case. A nagging voice in his head told him she was spiraling out of control then. He told that voice to shut up. He knew her problem now and he would back her up. The twelve step program taught him one thing, follow the steps. He did it with everything. If it was time to eat he ate, if it was time to sleep he slept. It was the routine that saved him and it could save Sarah too.

He didn't think she looked at the picture. She handed it back to him before she stepped into the bathroom. She returned with a rag and washed the spot the picture touched. Sarah acted as if somehow the grisly scene had rubbed off. The water ran in the bathroom again for a few minutes. She turned it off and they both waited in silence for the other to speak.

Finally she broke the stalemate as she came back into the room. "Where are the others?"

He smiled; she had looked at the picture and was already working the case. "What others?"

"Don't bullshit me, Holder. How many? You and I both know one dead prostitute and this case is over, on to bigger, more important cases. How many?"

He could be insulted; he wasn't though, she wasn't talking about him moving on. She was talking about the interests of the police chief. The chief wouldn't waste Holder's time with one dead prostitute. Nope, one dead girl wouldn't take up enough of Holder's time. But five, five would keep him busy. It was considered a low profile case. Some sicko with a fetish and that was all. A big waste of time for the department. The trouble was Holder didn't think it was a waste of time. He believed this case was about to bite them all in the ass.