Thank you so much for reviews, and please keep them coming! This story is such a joy to write, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a big 'un.

The man looked at Alex, confusion in his eyes.

Alex paused, and turned back towards him, irritated that she had to stop telling her story.

"Something wrong?", she asked.

"There's just something I don't understand."

Alex sighed. "What?"

"Well, your DCI... Gene... you said that he's a prick. But you two seemed to get along quite well. He doesn't seem all that bad-"

"No!", Alex growled, running her hand through her curls. "You've got it wrong!"

The man widened his eyes. "I have?"

"Yes! He is all that bad... us getting along well was just a... a charade. A trick."

He raised an eyebrow. "On his part or yours?"

Alex looked back into her wine glass, gazing deep into the pools of scarlet liquid, wishing she could just jump in and drown in it.

Instead of answering, she continued the story.

"You sure this is the right place?"

"Positive."

"Alright. Let's look around. Rebecca's body shouldn't be too hard to find- especially since the killer seems to want us to find her."

The officers separated from each other and began to search the front lawn of one of the prettiest churches you could imagine. It was polished and modern, with beautiful glass windows and a majestic wooden door. The voices of a choir were audible, sweet and clear.

An unlikely scene for a murder.

As Alex had predicted, it didn't take long to find the body- it was only covered by about 10 inches of soil and some leaves, it was really quite strange it hadn't already been found. The body was still relatively fresh- a week old at the most.

She was as Michael had described- redhead, skinny.

But the reason they were sure they'd got the right body was that she only had nine fingers.

It was Chris who found her.

"Guv?", he called, his voice shaking.

The team rushed over, and observed the body.

"No one touch her", Alex murmured, "But are there any obvious causes of death that we can see?"

"Bruise on her throat", Ray suggested. "Maybe she was strangled."

Alex nodded to him. "Good point."

Gene was oddly quiet as he surveyed the corpse, and when uniform took her away, he stood still in his spot, staring at the ground she had lain on. Alex saw this, and walked over, placing her hand on his arm.

"Something wrong, Gene?"

Gene snapped out of his trance, and just looked at Alex. The way her hand was almost caressing his arm, the way her soft voice seemed to curl tenderly around his name, the way her eyes looked at him with devotion, faith, a need to comfort him.

He couldn't handle it.

He snatched him arm away. "Don't touch me, Drake," he snapped, his voice cold as ice.

She stared at him, shocked. "Gene, I-"

"I think someone needs to inform you about what is and isn't appropriate in the workplace. Number 1, never touch me. Number 2, never call me by my first name. And number 3, put some a bloody clothes on. You'll offend the churchgoers."

He started to walk away, but Alex, tears forming in her eyes, stopped him.

"How can you say those things?"

Her voice shook and broke on the last word, but the message came through.

There was a long, long pause. Finally, Gene turned around and gave Alex a glare that made her take a step backwards.

"I can say those things," he said, "because I have lost all respect for you. Only sluts like you would try and shag their bosses for the sake of a raise. You're a liar, Drake. And I hate liars."

This time Alex didn't quite have the strength to stop him leaving.

Tears were falling down her cheeks, and hard as she tried, she couldn't wipe them away.

She didn't really know what he was talking about, but it didn't matter. She hadn't been trying to shag him, but he didn't care. She was angry and humiliated, and (as much as she hated to admit it) deeply hurt. How could he think those things of her, let alone say them aloud?

She felt dirty. He had made her feel that way. Because no matter how much she tried to deny it, he had that kind of power over her.

She walked around the back of the church and desperately tried to put herself back together. She scrabbled around for her makeup, and tried to wipe away the mascara streams down her face, wishing she could wipe away the words Gene had burned into her brain.

At the front of the church, Gene was thinking. His mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, but one was prominent- What the hell is wrong with you ?

He couldn't believe himself. The way he had treated Alex was horrible, even for him. She'd only been trying to help. The image of her hurt face was dancing before his eyes, taunting him.

He was aching to run around the back of the church and comfort her, somehow, but he knew he couldn't. She probably hates me, Gene thought. And I don't blame her.

A few seconds later, Ray approached Gene.

"You alright, Guv?"

Gene looked at Ray, his eyes troubled and his mouth set in a frown. "Not quite, Ray."

Ray furrowed his eyebrows. "How come?"

Gene sighed. "Well, for one thing I just accused Drake of doing something she didn't do for no good reason other than my own stupidity, and for another..."

There was a pause. Ray raised his eyebrows expectantly. Gene didn't usually put himself down. Ever. What was it about Drake that had such an odd effect on him? His eyes were lost, his face pale, and for some reason he kept trying to look around the back of the church.

He wasn't saying anything, apparently lost in thought, so Ray had to prompt him.

"And for another...?"

Gene looked into the sky, lost in it.

"There's something odd about Rebecca's body."

"What's odd about it?"

Gene looked back and Ray, and when he spoke he sounded old and sad.

"What's odd about it is that I recognize her."