A/N: Things are getting a little darker in this chapter. The rating for the story has increased to M.

Chapter 10

The call came as they were swinging out onto Dundas St, just twenty minutes after they pulled out of fifteen. "All available units we've got a Code 1 at Moss Park, behind the arena. Possible death. All units please respond."

Exchanging a grim look with Sam, Andy lifted the radio. "1505, 10-4. We're five minutes out."

Lights flashing, siren blaring, it took Sam less than three minutes to get to Queen Street East and into a the arena parking lot. Andy grabbed a roll of police tape and followed her partner into the park. She could see a small crowd of people a dozen yards away. A man in a yellow jacket waved them over. As they approached the bystanders fanned out, giving them their first view of the body.

It was a girl. She looked about thirteen. Her blue eyes were frozen open, staring unseeing at the feet of the people surrounding her. There were bruises all over her body and blood matted her long blonde hair. She was naked and a quick scan of the area revealed no clothing.

Andy felt like she might be sick.

It wasn't her first dead body. Or even her first dead teen. But this was something much worse than a drunken teenager falling off a building. Someone had caused this, enjoyed this even. The abrasion on her forehead looked like she'd been pushed or tripped from behind and smashed to the ground face first. There was blood on the inside of her thighs and pooled under her body. Andy wasn't certain, but it looked like she'd been beaten with a baseball bat or other hard, oblong object. And as if all of that pain wasn't enough, Andy could see rings of blackened bruising around the girl's neck like she'd been strangled.

One thing was absolutely certain. This death had not been slow. Andy scanned the small crowd of onlookers. They all looked suitably horrified, yet they stayed. She wondered if any of them had heard this girl's screams, and if they had, if they'd tried to help.

Sam was already on his cell phone, letting Homicide know the 911 call was legitimate and requesting a coroner on the scene, so Andy set to work backing up the bystanders. She wished several times she could cover up the girl's body, but protocol dictated no one was to touch her until the scene had been photographed. So she did her best not to look as she strung up police tape, marking a clear no-civilians zone around the body.

Sam stood just a few feet away from the body, cell phone pressed to his ear. He kept Andy in his peripheral vision, noting with something akin to pride that she seemed to be handling herself well. By the time Diaz and Shaw arrived on the scene the police tape was up and she was busy taking statements.

"I'm five minutes out, don't let anyone touch the body until I get there." Luke Callaghan's voice was unusually terse. Sam couldn't really blame him, the death of a young person was always hard to deal with. Still, Sam had worked in the same division as Callaghan long enough to know there was something else on the detective's mind that was adding a bite to his usually well modulated voice. "You got it," was all he said before snapping his phone closed and waving McNally over.

"No one saw it happen," Andy started speaking as soon as she was within range. "The guy in the yellow jacket found her and called 911. Everyone else seems to have come by after and stayed for the show." There was a note of disgust in her voice.

Sam resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was still so new at this job. Soon, too soon, she would learn that people can rarely resist observing other people's misfortunes and begin to regard the crowds of bystanders as nothing more than scenery. "Okay. Homicide is on the way. I need you to stay with the body, make sure no one touches anything until the Ds get here."

Andy gave him a once over. He was unusually tense, his shoulders stiff, his arms stiff at his sides. She got the feeling that if she gave him a little push he would fall over because his joints were held too tightly to compensate for the change in balance. "You alright?"

Sam shrugged. "There ones are tough." It wasn't a complete answer, but his tone made it clear he wasn't willing to go into details.

Andy stopped herself short of asking if it was tough because of Sarah. He had never shared the details of his sister's attack, and she didn't want to pry. Yet she couldn't shake off the similarities between this victim, and how she imagined Sarah Swarek had looked as a thirteen year old. She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to focus on the current victim. The past would still be there when the case was over.

Satisfied that Andy could keep any press or overly nosy onlooker away from the body, Sam backed away, keeping clear of the bystanders who were still waiting to give their statements or just to see what would happen next. Oliver and Diaz were still taking statements, but it was really more of a formality than anything likely to break the case. The men who had done this would be long gone. Probably safely home with their trophies, waiting to see if they made headline news.

He'd seen something like this three times before since joining fifteen. The detectives would have their own theories, but as far as Sam was concerned this was the eighteenth in a string of violent attacks on pre-teen girls in Moss Park in the last 27 years. Not all the girls had died. Some, like Sarah, had screamed so loudly that someone came to see what was going on before it was too late. So far only seven attacks had ended in death. Three in 1985, another two in 1998 and then one a year in 2000, 2001 and 2008.

He'd been involved in the 1998 investigation, but removed from the case when the lead detective disagreed with Sam's assertions that it was the work of a serial attacker or group of attackers. The detective had requested Sam be sent back to the streets, but had mercifully kept the reason why to himself. That was thirteen years earlier, back when he was as fresh as McNally was today. This time Sam knew more. He would let the Ds do their investigation their way. But when they found a suspect he would be right there. This time they would get them. And finally, finally, it would be over.

"Swarek?" Oliver placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking lightly. "Sam!"

"Sorry." Sam forced his mind back to the present. "What did you say?"

"The park's been closed off. The Ds just arrived. Diaz and I are heading back to the station to see if we can get anything from the traffic cams. We've taken statements from everyone over there," he pointed to the huddle of people still standing at the edge of the scene, "nothing suspicious so they've been cleared to go."

Sam nodded. "Thanks." He and McNally would have to stay on the scene until the coroner took the body, but for the time being their work was mostly done. He was relieved that they wouldn't be called upon much for the next half hour. He needed some time to get his head on straight.

o o o

In the eight years Luke Callaghan had worked homicide in the Toronto Police Service, he'd been involved in thirty-three murder investigations, nine of which involved children. He'd learned quickly how vital it was to put a tight lid on his own emotions and to attack each case with detached logic. Not that he was always successful. He didn't know anyone who could face the mother of a murdered child without losing at least some of their objectivity. But he had become very good at shutting the lid on those emotions until the investigation was complete.

The facts, they were what made the case. Feelings were messy. They clouded judgement. Feelings had no place in a murder investigation. Murder cases were like puzzles. Every piece was important. No detail was too small or too insignificant to look at. Sometimes the piece that didn't seem to fit with the rest was the key to unravelling the entire thing. Other times it wasn't until the whole picture fell perfectly together that you saw who was responsible. More often, however, you ended up with a partial set. A smattering of facts and details, with huge gaps, and you had to do your very best to figure out the whole picture from the tattered fragments at hand. But no matter how many or how few details there were. When it came to solving the case, the details were everything.

Sometimes he knew he got lost in the details. Clamping a lid over his emotions was always easier if he kept those feelings sealed off until after the case was solved. When Luke was working a case he locked into a tunnel vision. Nothing mattered outside the pinpoint circle of light that was the latest clue. it was only when the whole picture came together that he was able to step back and give life his full attention. More than one girlfriend had ended things for exactly that reason.

When he'd first become a detective Luke had purposefully thrown himself into his work to avoid his life. Now, eight years later, he was doing it again. Andy McNally was not the first Rookie he'd hooked up with. But there was something special about her, an intangible quality that kept him on the hook even when he suspected she had been unfaithful. Which was why Luke volunteered to take this case. He needed something powerful to take his mind off Andy and Sam Swarek. Throwing himself into work might allow him to erase the mental image of them together. He would never understand what Swarek had that he didn't, but there was no denying the connection between Sam and Andy. Luke just wished he'd figured that out sooner. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like such an idiot.

Andy wasn't the only reason Luke had taken an interest in the Moss Park homicide. There had been multiple accounts of assault, rape and murder in Moss Park dating back to the 1980s. Most had been attributed to random acts of violence and remained unsolved, but Luke wasn't convinced they were as random as they might have appeared to previous detectives. Luke didn't like to think anything was random. If he was right, the perp or perps had been getting away with this for over twenty years. They weren't going to stop until someone stopped them. And that someone might as well be him. And if he had to work with Swarek and McNally to get it done, he would find a way,

It wouldn't be easy. He'd spent the last two days nursing his wounded pride and trying to pretend Andy McNally didn't exist. The latter should have been easy. She worked the streets, he was a Detective with a private office who spent half his time at the courthouse. He'd had a hard time seeing her when he'd wanted to. Avoiding her should have been simple.

It wasn't. Every time he turned around she was there. She was at a desk filling out paperwork, her brow slightly furrowed in deep concentration, or she was chatting and laughing with Chris Diaz, or, like this morning, Swarek was bringing her coffee and she was smiling at Sam like to she used to smile at him. It was enough to make his blood boil.

o o o

A/N: Sam's Birthday is still over a week away, I promise we'll get there, but we've got a few other issues to deal with first. : ) For anyone needing a little instant gratification, check out my new one-shot A Little Beer... My smutty gift to all of you (at least all of you over the age of 18) .

Thank you to all my fabulous reviewers! Last chapter this officially became my most reviewed story. *bounces* You guys rock!