Chapter Three

It was eight in the morning, and Leah had spent the past few minutes blankly staring at her computer screen.

Paperwork was evil.

But unfortunately, it was a necessary evil, and despite her camaraderie with the captain, Leah was pretty sure Paul wouldn't appreciate her forgoing an integral part of the job simply because she didn't want to.

She typed a few more words and then just stared at the screen, ready to give up. The form was half-completed, and if she pushed herself, she could have it filled out and disseminated by the time Jacob returned from his dentist appointment. Give and take, an hour.

"Fuck it," Leah ultimately decided. She saved the document and locked her computer screen. "Deal with this later."

It was one of those days, one of those mornings, when Leah's motivation was at a low for no reason due to a bout of laziness. It occasionally happens, about once a month – nothing too concerning; the period usually lasted a day, and then she would return to her usual, workaholic self.

Though the timing wasn't the best. The Voldemort Unit was as active as ever, especially upon the realization that it would take a lot more than a threat of conviction to convince Emilio to speak. It had been a few days since the eventful raid, and nothing of note came out of his mouth (of course). Or from his two minions.

Seconds passed, and Leah tried another go. She was able to formulate a few sentences before being interrupted by the one person she was shocked to see at this time of day: Aisha, who was supposed to be at an informant meeting until, at least, late into the afternoon.

Before Leah could say anything, Aisha pulled out a file under her arm and waved it. "Hey, do you wanna handle this instead?" she asked, frustration evident in her voice. "I hear a certain widow actually likes you."

Leah leaned back against her seat and looked up her friend with, what she assumed, pity, "I take it that the meeting didn't go too well."

Aisha's huff said it all. The detective took Jacob's seat and slammed the file on his desk. "Like I said: she likes you."

"Like" was a very strong word.

"She tolerated me," Leah maintained, genuinely not knowing where she stood with the widow. Esme Platt was hard to read. "Give it some time, and she'll come around. Remember: she was the one who came to us."

Aisha crossed her arms. "Yeah, probably with the assumption that she was dealing with you."

Leah sighed. She wasn't used to hearing words of defeat from a woman who had always been confident in her work. "Give it some time," she said. "It's not we're in some rush. Even if something pops up, something crazier will come along and stall this investigation further into oblivion."

Aisha shot Leah an unconvinced look. "The captain should've given her to you."

Leah felt for her friend, but she was glad Paul hadn't.

Despite Leah's history with the family, namely Esme Cullen (no, Platt), she wasn't actively involved in handling the unit's newest confidential informants. Due to the sensitivity of that mess, Paul had made it loud and clear that he only wanted people with extensive experience with informants and undercover personnel to work with the family. Aisha was one of them, despite her misgivings regarding the shitshow that was Sam's undercover assignment.

(Paul had reminded Aisha numerous times that she was one of the best of the best, and what had happened to Sam had absolutely nothing to do with her so-called misjudgments. Shit happens, he told her.)

"I'm a homicide detective, remember?" Leah said with a self-deprecating chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "I detect shit. You know, deal with murderers. You can have fun being a handler. Anyway, as you remember, the last informant I had ended up dead."

The Riley Biers-debacle remained fresh in Leah's mind. Even though his murderer was more-or-less brought to justice, Leah still felt like shit about it.

Aisha sat up in her seat and looked around, perhaps to see if Jacob was coming around anytime soon. She was relieved when Leah assured her Jacob wouldn't come until the bottom of the hour. "Not your fault," she insisted sincerely. "You—Wait, hey, don't you have another one?"

The "another one" was Jane.

"She hasn't contacted me in months, so no."

"No, I meant the other one."

Tia.

"I haven't heard a peep or picked a scent of her since Maria's hospital stint, so no to that, too," Leah said, rather bitterly. She couldn't believe this woman had just dropped off the face of the planet. "As you can see, I'm not that good at this, but you? You got this informant-undercover-handler thing down to the T."

"I appreciate your, the captain's, and everyone else's faith in me… I'm still trying to find mine."

Leah studied her friend's face and immediately knew what was going through Aisha's mind. "Sam was an anomaly."

Aisha frowned. "He could've died under my watch." She slowly dragged her hands down her face and let out a drawn-out groan. "I mean, I may not like the man, and I'll never forgive for what he did to you, but he's still one of us."

Leah understood. It was a heavy burden to make sure your coworker was safe in dangerous situations. But the danger came with the job, and Sam, despite everything, was still breathing. "He's not six-feet-under and not on disability," she said. "And now I hear he's back in Violent Crimes, happily handling cases that don't involve this any of this mess. Heard he's even taking the sergeant's exam due to his exceptional work. Hell, it seems you've done him a favor."

Aisha let out a sharp laugh. "And you said you don't know how to make people feel better," she said with a wide smile. Her gloomy mood was slowly but surely dissipating, and Leah took it as a win. Aisha grabbed Esme's file and rose from Jacob's seat. "So, when are you taking yours?"

Leah shrugged. There had been a time when she thought about taking the exam, quite some time ago, when she was more ambitious. But now? She didn't have the mindset to study for anything. "Not anytime soon," she said.

"He asked you, didn't he?"

Leah glanced at Paul's office and nodded. "Numerous times," she said. It seemed that Paul took every opportunity to persuade Leah to take the damn exam. Maybe he saw something she couldn't. "But I can live on a detective's salary."

"Don't sell yourself too short."

"I can say that same to you." Leah tapped the top of her desk a couple of times and folded her hands. "Now, tell me what's going on with Miss Platt. I'm actually a bit surprised she's been uncooperative. She's usually the reasonable one in that family."

"Once again nothing," Jacob declared, pocketing his work phone. He let out a disappointed huff before taking a long sip of his coffee. "Emilio's not gonna say a word until his lawyer's shipped from Mexico."

Leah shrugged. As annoying as it was, it was Emilio's right to be represented by counsel. Though she would've thought the lawyer would arrive at his client's side days ago, given the severity of Emilio's case. "Must be a damn good lawyer," she remarked. She glanced outside through the large window to where the wonderous downtown Chicago stood. "And the kid?"

"Martinez convinced he can break him… one of these days," Jacob said, and then with a low chuckle, "I don't think I've ever seen newlyweds looked at each other the way you're looking at that drink. It's disturbing, and I think you should see someone about this."

Leah deeply inhaled the delicious combination of heated milk and espresso. She was indeed seeing someone, had been for a while, but she doubted the good Dr. Murad would entertain a conversation about Leah's love for cappuccinos. "You don't know what you're missing," she breathed as she took a scoop of whipped cream off the top of her drink. She grinned at the taste.

Damn, even the whipped cream at Ghirardelli's was delectable. The caffeinated drink was Leah's second choice, but it was an acceptable one. The right one. Although the hot chocolate (made with real chocolate, real milk, whipped cream with chocolate shavings) was practically calling her name, Leah remembered the last time she overloaded on chocolate – Not going to happen again.

Jacob lifted an eyebrow. "And yet you brought a chocolate bar."

Leah tossed a stray sugar packet at Jacob, who laughed whole-heartedly, almost dropping his coffee in the process. Despite her slight annoyance with the man, Leah was happy to see Jacob like this. Contrary to Jacob's claims, the investigation was taking a toll on him. This was one of the few times in a while, Leah had seen him in such a genuinely pleasant mood.

It was nice.

"Having one piece of chocolate once in a blue moon ain't gonna kill me."

"Don't call me when you have another episode," Jacob warned. "I may not answer the phone this time around."

Leah snorted. "I'll have you know that I have no intentions of downing three pieces of fudge cake in quick succession ever again," she vowed. "Honestly, I thought you'd be proud of me. It's not I'm having hot chocolate, even though it smells so good." She took another sip. "So, about this Hawaii-suggestion of yours…."

Jacob leaned in. "You're down?"

Leah appreciated Jacob's dedication to finding a weekend getaway, especially during these trying times.

"In case you've forgotten, the captain wouldn't even let us go to L.A. or Washington, both of which are located within the continental U.S. What makes you think he's gonna approve Hawaii, especially during this shitshow?"

"You are absolutely right, but I got an excuse that not even he can strongly reject: a wedding where the groom threatened to maim me if I didn't show up, barring a real emergency."

Leah took another scoop of the melting whipped cream. "Another cousin?"

"Childhood friend. Basically, an unofficial cousin," Jacob said. "He's having a little destination wedding on Maui. He's making bank at this investment firm and marrying this New York socialite, so you know the accommodations are gonna be nice. Said I can bring a plus-one."

"Hawaii, though?" Leah wondered. "I would've gone to the Caribbean."

"Kev feels the same… but the fiancée is obsessed with Hawaii, particularly traditional Hawaiian culture, so Hawaii, it is," Jacob explained. "You know the saying: happy soon-to-be-wife makes a happy soon-to-be-home."

Leah lightly chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Damn straight."

"You are aware that your sister's out there, yes?" Leah pointed out. She had only met Rachel a couple of times, but from all accounts, she seemed pleasant. Much more serious than Rebecca, but nice nonetheless. "Wouldn't it be easier to take her?"

Jacob shrugged. "Not available."

"So, what you're telling me is that I am the second choice?" Leah asked, feigning disappointment. "And here I thought we were friends."

Jacob chuckled into his coffee. "Oh, c'mon, you know I'll always have love for you." He reached for Leah's hand and squeezed it. He laughed when Leah swatted him away with her free hand. "So…?"

Leah placed the spoon aside. Hawaii did sound nice. She hadn't been there in years, and it was warm over there. Damn, warm sounded great. It sounded beautiful. Leah was getting tired of the winter, even if tonight was one of those nights from a fairytale. It was snowing, but not too much. The air was brisk, but it didn't have the usual Midwest bite. A blessing, considering it was mid-January. The holiday season decorations along the city streets were still up, lights and all—

But it wasn't Hawaii.

"Isn't that place expensive?"

Jacob wasn't concerned. "All we have to worry about is the flight," he said. "Everything else is pretty much covered."

Leah loved the sound of that, especially since her funds took a massive hit last week courtesy of her CRV battery's decision to suffer an unexpected death. She grinned at the man across from her. "Who is this guy?" Leah nodded with approval when Jacob showed her a picture of his friend and his massive house. "I see you've been holding out." She leaned in. "Does he have any friends within that same tax bracket? Someone who can possibly buy me another car?"

Jacob jokingly rolled his eyes. "All you needed was a new battery," he said. "I don't exactly hang out with that crowd, but… I promise to get some intel when we're over there."

Leah raised an eyebrow. "We're?"

"Yeah, you and me."

"I don't remember agreeing to anything."

"Oh, c'mon, the trip's practically half-paid. You can't turn that down."

No, she really couldn't.

"Fine."

"There we go."

"When is this damn thing?"

"The 15th."

"Of February?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That doesn't give us a lotta time."

"I already put my time in," Jacob said. "It's more than two weeks from now. Just ask for the Friday off. The wedding's on Saturday, and we come back on Sunday. It's gonna be a short turnaround, but… it's a break, and It'll be warmer?"

"I want to go to a beach."

"Luckily for you, the whole thing's gonna take place on a beach."

Leah was never a fan of beach weddings. Too many variables to take into account, including weather and sand getting everywhere. But it wasn't her event, and if the happy couple was going to pay for most of the expenses, then who was she to complain? She stirred her drink before downing most of it in one large gulp. "Preferably not while I'm in a dress," she said. "Make time for that, and I'm in."

A wide grin split Jacob's face.

The following morning, Leah stepped into her kitchen with her belongings in her hands. She tossed her bag into the counter and turned around to find a medicine cabinet full of supplies, vitamins, and cleaning products on the kitchen table. Leah shook her head and turned her attention to the kitchen cabinet. She retrieved a tea bag and mug and started heating the kettle water.

This was clearly her mother's doing. Sue was known for being over-prepared and cautious about everything, especially when preparing for trips, but this was a bit overboard, even for her. Being the jetsetter she was, Sue was only going on a three-day trip with her sisters to visit family in Washington, for goodness sakes. Not going on a Doctors Without Borders mission.

Speaking of her mother, Sue entered the kitchen with a suitcase. She placed it aside and greeted her daughter with a kiss on the cheek. "Shouldn't you be at work already?"

"Doing a double, so won't need to be there until nine," Leah quickly explained before asking, "So… what's up with all of this?" She gestured the numerous travel-sized hand sanitizers, Lysol wipes, sprays, and masks. There were even bottles of Vitamin D and C, seemingly for each of Sue's friends. "Don't tell me… is this all necessary? It's supposed to be a vacation, mom, not volunteer opportunity at some makeshift hospital."

Sue glanced at the table and shrugged. "Haven't you been listening to the news? About this new virus?" She poured herself her cup of tea. "Someone in Washington already got it, and I heard that there's going to be a few airports doing screenings. Sure, O'Hare isn't on the list, but you can be damn sure that it's going to be next."

Leah sighed. Yeah, she had been paying attention to the news about a virus originating from China. "It's probably another bird-flu," she said. "It'll come and go."

"Well, I'm not going to get caught red-handed. I have plans for this year." Sue scanned the table and picked up a couple of wipes, masks, and sanitizers. "These are really for me and the girls, but here." She pushed the products into her daughter's arms. "I don't know how your immune system is after… you know, but just in case." She added a few more bottles of hand sanitizer. "And here's one for that pack of yours. I've already given your brother some, so he's covered."

"Thank you," Leah said, placing the products aside before taking a sip of her tea. "And please make sure to text me when you land."

"Did you hear about what happened the good, ol' Madam Heidi Baumgartner?" Jacob asked later that afternoon as he scrolled through his phone. "Apparently, she's engaged."

Leah looked up from her own phone. She had spent the past couple of minutes going through her mother's myriad of texts regarding the latest family drama. The woman literally just landed in Seattle, and she already had tons of new gossip. "Is she?" Leah was surprised, but then again, she wasn't. Luring people had always been Heidi's specialty. "Well, there's hope for us after all. How do you know?"

"Got a buddy on the inside," Jacob said, reaching over for his can of Diet Coke. Both detectives were taking a ten-minute break before going back out in the field. "She's been a model inmate. Not that it'll save her from her long prison sentence."

Leah put aside her phone and leaned back in her seat with her hands folded behind her head. "Who's the lucky man?"

"Some 22-year-old."

Leah wrinkled her nose. She was about to make a snide remark about hoping the fiancé was a vampire for his sake when Paul appeared, looking serious as ever. "Good afternoon, captain."

Paul acknowledged the detectives with a nod. "Got a job for you," he said, pulling a large envelope from under his arm and dropping it on Jacob's desk. "I need you to find a car. Tonight."

Leah sat up in her seat. "Tonight?" she questioned. She exchanged a puzzled look with her partner, who quickly opened the envelope and scanned the pages before handing them over to his partner.

"A car," Jacob said, deadpanned. "With all due respect, captain, we have a license plate number."

"And nothing else," Leah observed. She looked up from the search warrant in her hand. "How did a judge even sign off on this? We don't have a model, color… hell, not even a type?"

"Probable cause is a beautiful thing," Paul simply said. "I'm going to need you both to go around one in the morning—" He put up a hand before the detectives could protest. "Yeah, I know, it's late, but for some reason, the timing's important. Even criminals operate on a set schedule."

Jacob huffed. "Terrific."

Leah brought a hand on her forehead and sighed. She had planned to spend the second half of her double shift behind her desk doing the least amount of work she could justify. Not go on a scavenger hunt in the middle of the night with minimal information. "Is there any reason why you can't assign this to… you know, officers? Not to sound elitist, but perhaps this is a bit…below our pay grade?"

Okay, so, she sounded a bit elitist.

"And it's way more below mine," Paul snarked. He looked from one detective to the other. "Listen, I swear this ain't some kind of power move or punishment. I have a sinking feeling that there's more to this car than Emilio's minion's letting on. And I don't care what time it is, call me if something comes up."

"And if it's nothing?" Leah asked.

"Then we'll be back to square one, wouldn't we?" Paul replied, then with a loud clap, "Now, make me and this unit proud by finding that car."

"You got it, Captain," Jacob saluted with a forced grin, then grumbled soon as the captain left, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." If Paul overheard Jacob, he certainly didn't show it as he walked around the office space, catching up with the rest of the task force members – Not that Jacob seemed to care.

Leah shrugged as she reread the warrant. "At least we don't have to search the whole damn city," she remarked. "But yeah, I have to agree. This is bullshit."

Around 5:00 pm, Detective Martinez stopped by Leah's and Jacob's desks with a large 7-11 Slurpee in one hand and a bag full of snacks in another. He handed Leah a bag of chewy candy and tossed Jacob a bag of chips. It appeared that the detective was spending most of his shift in and out of the station, trying to find something to do without attracting Paul's attention.

Jacob tossed Martinez a couple of bucks and thanked the man. "You look… bored," he remarked between bites. "This ain't a good look on you, Detective."

"Do you see me complaining? This is the closest thing to a work-related break I've had in weeks." Martinez grinned. "Ever since the Fangs decided to be smart and stay outta this damned city, not much for me to do except for the occasional raid and whatnot." He shrugged. "Now, all I'm good for is conducting interviews and interrogations in Spanish... and, as of today, and running to 7-11."

"Don't let the captain hear you say you're bored," Leah joked. "Before you know it, he'll put you on mail-duty until he needs you for another raid."

Martinez scoffed as he stole a chair from the empty desk across the aisle and pulled up along the side of Leah's and Jacob's desk, essentially blocking the walkway. "Yeah, right, that's Cameron's job when he decides to act a fool," he said. "Anyway, heard that they're hiring a new admin-person, so it looks like the capt's gonna have to find that knucklehead another punishment—I'm shocked he hasn't been transferred to the Halfway House yet because of his antics."

"Oh, come on, he really hasn't done anything to get him transferred to Property," Jacob insisted, looking over to Jared, who was engaged in a very intense conversation about Grand Theft Auto with Esposito, the only cop in the Voldemort Unit whose tenure was shorter than his. "He's good when he's not actively trying to get on the captain's nerves."

"Which is the reason why he's still in this unit," Leah said with a chuckle. That and the fact Jared often provided much-needed comic relief along with Embry. There were times when the young cops' antics were welcomed, even by Paul. She glanced at the warrant at the edge of her desk and waved in Martinez's face. "So, are you bored enough to look for a license plate for us?"

Martinez laughed as he slapped the warrant away. "I heard about that, and hell no. I already did my share of this week's scavenger hunt. Anyway, you should be thanking me. I'm the reason why we even got that number."

"Yeah, and nothing else," Jacob snarked. He laughed at the finger Martinez directed his way. "C'mon, man, you can't be serious. Are you telling me that there's no other description? What the hell's a license plate number gonna do for us?"

Leah wondered the same thing.

"Some of these gangs like to transfer license plates to different cars to throw us off," Martinez explained with a shrug. "What else I can say?"

"Well, they're doing a good job," Jacob grumbled. "Ran the plates. It's from a Jeep Cherokee stolen back in '14. Found the car a year later abandoned in Little Village without any license plates. Or much of anything else."

"What's so important about these plates?" Leah asked Martinez.

"The kid, Javier, says it's important, and of course, he claims not to know why."

"He could be fucking with us."

"We won't know until we start searching." Jacob ran a hand down his face and sat up in his seat. "At one-fucking-am."

Yeah, the time wasn't ideal.

Much to the detectives' chagrin, Martinez didn't show one ounce of sympathy. "Power to you both," he said, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Well, if anything comes up or if you need a good joke or some help with good, ol' Español, hit me up."

Leah snorted and tossed the warrant on her desk.

"Well, fuck you, too," Jacob retorted, shooing the unhelpful detective away.

Martinez bowed his way out.

"Did you ever close on that apartment?"

Leah shook her head as she zeroed in on every license plate attached to each parked car passing by. She generally had complete faith in Paul's orders, but this assignment was…ugh. Seriously, no one could provide a model? Hell, even a color? Granted, it was the middle of the night, but everyone could tell the difference between a white and a black car. Her only saving grace was that she and Jacob only had to search a few more blocks. Something had to come up. Eventually.

"No," she said, voice barely audible over the soft music playing on the radio. "Lost out on it. Took too much time to make a decision."

Jacob stopped the car at a red light. "That sucks."

"You're telling me." Leah frowned. She flashbacked to that damned email and her frown deepened. At least, the leasing agent attempted to sound apologetic. "I mean, I guess I'm not missing much. I wasn't in love with the place, you know?"

"Got a backup?"

"No."

"Do you even wanna move?"

"I don't know."

"No rush?"

"There's no rush."

Jacob nodded. "Well, there's nothing wrong with staying at your mom's. Especially since she's not kicking you out or driving you up the wall."

"Yeah, thank God for that."

Leah picked up her cup of caffeine from the cupholder and grimaced before taking a long sip, swallowing the liquid as fast she could without gagging. The drink full of multiple shots of espresso sans sugar tasted like absolute shit, but it did the trick.

Jacob lifted his own pick-me-up. "I told you to stick to Red Bull."

"Somehow, that tastes even worse than this," Leah said, giving her drink one last grimace before returning it to the cup holder. She wasn't desperate enough for another sip. "I don't know how you like that shit."

"Hey, it has sugar, and sugar makes everything taste better."

"Touché," Leah mumbled, returning to her license plate-search as Jacob drove off. She took another sip of her dreaded drink and sat back in her seat, wishing she was anywhere but here. But, damn it, she rather be doing paperwork.

Even though they were searching a small area, Leah was starting to lose faith in searching for the vehicle. They had been searching for the unknown car for a good hour. She wondered if Javier had made a mistake or just flat-out lied. It wasn't the first time one had done so to get out of an interrogation. "I—" she stopped, shot up in her seat. She pointed at a car parked approximately a half-block away. The Ford's headlights illuminated precisely what they were looking for. "That's it! That's the license plate. Pull over!"

Jacob quickly parked the unmarked Ford in the space between the target and the fire hydrant.

Leah checked the license plate number one more time before verbally confirming that this was the car Javier had talked about. From the initial scan, there was nothing special about the car. It was blue with silver finishing and tinted windows.

"It's that..." Jacob breathed out in awe. He quickly turned off the car, grabbed a flashlight, and stepped out. He whistled at the sight in front of him. "Now, this is a car." He circled the electric blue vehicle, nodding appreciatively. "1972 Chevrolet Camaro. Always wanted one of these." He tapped the hood. "You gotta go old-school. The newer models don't do the brand justice."

Leah stepped out from the passenger seat and scanned the surroundings as her partner continued to admire the car. The time of the night meant most people were home asleep with a few cars passing by. There was a homeless encampment in the alleyway between two buildings directly across the street, but vagrants weren't paying the cops any mind.

"Wouldn't you want a classic like this, Clearwater?"

"Not as much as you, it seems."

Leah approached the Camaro and deeply inhaled. Her enhanced sense of smell was an added plus during these moments. "No one's been around for some time." She shook her head. "This better be worth it," she grumbled, shining a light through the tinted windows. "It's too damn late for a dud."

"Oh c'mon, it's only one-in-the-morning," Jacob joked, pulling on the driver's door handle. He frowned. "Locked." He then shrugged, pulled out a pocket knife, and began expertly working on the handle and the edge of the door. "Ever broke into a car without any damage? Ever hot-wired one?"

"Not into car-jacking, so no."

"They really should teach people this in Academy," Jacob said, adding a proud grin when he got the door to open without a scratch. "It's a life lesson, and look at this: we now have access to a locked car. So let's see what's the big deal about this magnificent piece of art."

Jacob focused on the front row while Leah climbed into the back. They spent the next several minutes searching every nook-and-cranny, and there wasn't a damn thing. The car had been cleaned out, the floor vacuumed, and the leather seats shined. No sign of an insurance card or registration. The stench of ammonia hung in the air.

It wasn't ideal.

Leah slapped the backseat headrest in frustration. "I think that kid fucked us over." She stifled a yawn while moving around the limited space. It was too damn late (or early) for an unsuccessful search. "Nothing. Not a damn thing. Not even a crumb."

Jacob exited the car and stretched his arms. "Now, where's the optimism? We didn't even check the most important area." He jogged back to the unmarked car, pulled out a crowbar from the trunk, and returned. He gave his partner a thumbs-up through the Camaro's backseat window before forcing open the trunk.

Leah looked up when she heard Jacob's heart stop.

"What the—" Jacob dropped the crowbar. "Fuck?"

Leah caught her partner's stunned expression and quickly moved from the backseat, grabbing her flashlight. At Jacob's side, she shone the trunk with the flashlight. Fuck. There was a person inside. A woman. Slim-athletic build with average height. Adorned in jeans, black mid-length boots, and a black long sleeve shirt. Face covered with a plastic bag poked with a few holes. Wrists and ankles bound with rope. Doused in an off-the-market solution used to mask the scent.

The woman wasn't moving.

Leah remained silent as Jacob searched the woman's pockets and pulled out a small wallet. He retrieved the victim's driver's license and read, "Catalina Pereira from DeKalb. Age 33."

The name didn't ring a bell. Not that it mattered. It was another person. Another goddamn body to add to the count. Not even two weeks passed. "Fuck," Leah said through gritted teeth. "Fuck me."

Jacob took a step back, pulled out the radio from his inner coat pocket, and called in dispatch.

Leah placed the flashlight aside, removed a glove, and touched the women's bare hands using the back of her hand. She was cold. Freezing. Not surprising, given that she wasn't adequately dressed and the temperature was sub-zero. She had to be dead—

No, she wasn't.

There was a heartbeat. Faint, but was there.

She was still alive.

The detectives shared a look.

"Must be unconscious." Jacob ran a hand down this face, then said into the radio, "… Detective Jacob Black. Yeah, got a 4-79. Need an ambulance on…." He checked the street signs. "North Homan and West Iowa. Stat. Got an unconscious woman. Likely got hypothermia. Don't think she's gonna last very long…."

"ETA?" Leah mouthed, quickly removing her jacket and scarf. She wrapped garments around the victim. She would expire from hypothermia if they didn't get her into a warm place in the next few minutes.

Jacob covered the radio speaker with a hand. "Got one around the corner," he said. "Perfect fucking timing."

Leah nodded then borrowed Jacob's pocket knife to carefully cut the rope around the woman's neck. She pulled back the plastic face covering. Immediately dropping the knife, she drew in a sharp breath.

No, this couldn't—

No.

Jacob dropped his radio. "Well, fuck."