The music created rainbow colors that swirled and danced around her as she swayed in time with the beat that flowed through her soul, making her one with the music. She could feel his lips brush against hers, like the soft, gentle wings of a butterfly, as his hands softly caressed her shoulders. She moaned and closed her eyes in eager anticipation as she felt his hands slowly moved up to her neck.

Opening her eyes in confusion, she stared at him through the frightened glazed eyes, unable to scream, unable to even breathe, as the hands around her throat squeezed tighter and tighter. She tried desperately to pull his hands away, to kick, to struggle, to break free but he was just too strong. Her last memory as the darkness engulfed her was the constant bass beat that flowed through her soul, making her one with the music until even the music was gone.

xxxxxx

Reaching for another folder, Kenny Mills looked up as he heard a soft rap on his office door a moment before it opened, and Mike Stone poked his head into his office and asked, "Got a couple of minutes, Kenny, for an old friend?"

Grinning as he pushed the folder away, the Vice Squad lieutenant chuckled as he waved the other man in. "That depends Mike, on whether you remembered that you owe me…"

"A coffee and not from the pot that's been sitting all night," Mike smiled as he opened the door fully and entered the office, carrying two mugs. Handing one of the cups to Mills, his smile grew as he sat down on the chair in front of the well-worn wooden desk and announced proudly, "Strong black, no sugar."

"Yeah," Mills nodded, accepting the mug before taking a small sip. Sighing his appreciation of the strong flavored brew, he lowered the cup a little as he looked over the rim suspiciously at his friend, "Okay Mike, I know that you haven't come all the way down here to Vice just for a social visit, so come on, spill, what's up?"

Mike sighed, placing his cup of coffee on the desk, "You're right Kenny, this isn't a social visit, I need your help."

"My help?" Kenny frowned as he placed the coffee cup on the desk in front of him and leaned forward, giving the Homicide lieutenant his full attention. "Of course, Mike, what do you need?"

"I guess you have heard about the murders of several young women whose bodies have all been found in or washed up around the bay."

Kenny nodded, "The count is up to four or five so far, isn't it?"

"Six." Mike sighed softly, "All young women, aged between seventeen and twenty- eight, all had various hallucinogenic drugs in their systems, all were last known to be living on the Rancho Olympica hippie commune and all died from manual strangulation."

"That's the hippy commune up near Novato, isn't it?" Mills frowned.

"Yeah," Mike nodded, watching Kenny closely.

"Damn!" Mills murmured, looking down into his coffee mug, as the horror of what his friend was telling him sunk in before he looked back up at Mike.

"That's why I'm here. I need your help, Kenny, to catch this killer before he strikes again." Mike continued quietly.

"Of course, glad to help anyway we can." Kenny quickly reassured his friend before grabbing a pen to take some notes, "I'll get my guys on this straight away, I'll make it a top priority. Do you think the girls may have been local working gir-"

"Ahh, no, nothing we have found out about any of the girls have us believing they were working the streets here or anywhere else but that's not quite the help that I am hoping for," Mike interrupted.

Pausing with the pen in mid-air, Kenny frowned, "I don't understand, Mike, then what is it that you need?"

"We suspect the murderer is a member of the commune but the commune members don't trust anyone from the so-called establishment."

"And we are part of the so-called establishment, I guess." Kenny murmured.

Mike nodded. "They're scared and are refusing to co-operate with the investigation. So, I'm hoping that we can use one of your guys to go in undercover. We need someone inside the commune to try and win the trust of some of the members and hopefully help get enough evidence to point us in the direction of a possible suspect. It will have to be someone young, someone who has worked undercover before, someone who will fit into the hippie lifestyle and who isn't well known on the streets yet…"

Kenny nodded in understanding as he held up his hand for Mike to stop as he said, "I think I might have just the guy you are looking for Mike, he's my newest and youngest inspector, Steve Keller. He's just turned twenty-five and still a little wet behind the ears, one of these new police university degree kids who are joining the force. He's only been on the job a few months and I managed to snap him up just after he joined uniform. He's not a local boy, born and raised in Modesto, but he settled here after graduating from Berkeley and I'm glad I took the chance on him. He's bright, real bright, a hell of a quick learner and a fast thinker on his feet and he's just finished an undercover gig that led to the arrest of one of the city's major gambling ring kingpins." A small smile crept onto Kenny's face as he looked past Mike's shoulder and watched as the shaggy haired young man, whom he was speaking about, entered the bull pen with his partner. Looking back at Mike, he grinned as he rose to his feet and hurried towards his office door as he added over his shoulder, "And I think when you see him, you will agree that he would fit right into any hippy commune. Let me just call him into the office and let you meet him. I think you will agree that he will be perfect for the role."

xxxxxxx

"Oh, come on, Steve, my boy, now would I lie to you? I swear there were two of them and both were fighting over little ol' me!"

Steve Keller laughed, slapping his partner's shoulder as they walked across to their desks, "Are you sure that they were fighting over you and not fighting over which one of them could get out of the door the fastest after you said that corny opening line?"

"It wasn't corny!" Matt Loomings protested as they entered the Vice bull pen and headed to their desk, "It's one of my most effective pick-up -"

"Keller! Loomings! So nice both of you have finally decided to join us!" Lieutenant Mills growled from his office door as he glared at his two Inspectors as they turned and looked guiltily at him.

"Sorry Lieutenant," Keller said quietly as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair before he glanced quickly at his partner who was grinning at their lieutenant like a Cheshire cat.

"Sorry we're late, Kenny, I know you said to be here by seven, but the kid here overslept this morning and I had to drag his sorry ass out of bed!" Loomings chuckled, tilting his head in the direction of his young partner as he reached up and ruffled his partner's hair, winking at his lieutenant as he teased, "I swear Lieutenant, these college kids who keep joining SFPD are getting softer every day."

"And you two are getting later with handing in your paperwork every day." Mills admonished the older man, stifling the smile that twitched his lips as he saw Keller flinch at the gentle reprimand and turn quickly towards his desk.

"Just going to finish the Hanson arrest report now, Lieutenant."

Mills nodded, cocking an eyebrow at Loomings as he ordered, "No, Keller, your partner's going to finish the Hanson arrest report and he better have it on my desk in an hour." Before he looked back at his youngest inspector, "But I want you in my office, now!" Knowing that his orders would be followed, he turned and walked back to the chair behind his desk and sat back down.

Swallowing hard, Steve glanced questioningly across at his partner who shrugged and whispered, "You better hurry up and get in there, he's waiting."

Nodding silently, Steve turned and slowly walked across to his Lieutenant's office and entered, casting a quick glance at the older man who was seated in front of the Lieutenant's desk, silently watching him, before looking back at Kenny and asking, "You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?"

"Yes Steve, close the door and take a seat." Mills ordered him softly.

Mike studied the young officer as Steve entered his lieutenant's office. Dressed in blue faded jeans, a light blue tee shirt and with shaggy hair grown a little longer than the departmental regulations, plus sporting a five o'clock shadow, no doubt the result of not having time to shave because he had slept in this morning, the young man already looked the part of a young hippy, Mike decided.

"Steve, this is Lieutenant Stone from Homicide," Mills began to make the introductions, wasting no time, as Steve entered the office and sat down. Steve only had time to turn towards the lieutenant sitting next to him and nod as Mills looked at Mike and rushed on, "Mike, this is the officer I've been telling you about, Steve Keller."

Mike smiled warmly as he turned to young inspector sitting beside him, "Good to meet you, son."

"Thank you, Sir." Steve returned a small, uncertain smile, now aware that he had been the subject of their discussion before he had been called into Mills' office but not the reason why.

Ignoring the look of confusion on his inspector's face as Steve turned back to face him, Mills asked, "Steve, what do you know about the hippy commune just outside of Novato?"

Steve shrugged, "Not much sir, just that they're a group of hippies living on the old Rancho Olympica property in the forestry a few miles north of Novato."

"Anything else?" Mike asked, watching him closely.

Steve frowned, running his hand over his head before leaving it resting momentarily on the back of his neck, a gesture Mills had come to recognize was a habit the younger man did when he was feeling stressed or was thinking, before he dropped his hand back onto his lap and shrugged. "Not much, only that some guy by the name of Samuels bought the property a few years ago and set up the commune and is reputed to now be the group's guru. As far as I know, there's been a few drug busts for dope, magic mushrooms and some acid…"

Mike nodded, watching the younger man closely as he asked, "Have you ever had any contact with any of the commune members?"

Steve's frown deepened and he slowly shook his head, "Umm, no Sir, not that I'm aware of. I mean, I had a few friends who decided to buck the system and who joined a couple of communes back when I was in Uni… but none of them were involved with the commune in Novato."

"You even spent some time on a commune yourself, didn't you, Steve?" Mills asked, seeing Mike's eyes widen at the question.

The younger man blushed slightly and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, confused on where this conversation was going as the officer sitting next to him seemed to be waiting for his answer. "Umm, yeah, just for a couple of weeks when I was trying to decide about changing my major from Law to Police Science." A small smile slipped onto his lips as he fondly remembered those four, too short, weeks before his smile disappeared as he suddenly remembered where he was and who he was with. Looking back at the Homicide lieutenant sitting beside him, he quickly explained, "A friend of mine thought it might help me clear my mind and free my soul if I got back to nature for a while and joined him on a commune down near Los Angeles."

"And did it?" Mike smiled.

Steve blinked in surprise at the question before he asked, confused, "Did it what?"

"Did it help you clear your mind?"

"Yeah… yeah, you could say it did." Steve returned the smile before he grew serious and asked, "But excuse me Sir, what's this all about? I mean the questions about the commune and its members," before glancing across at Mills as he finished asking, "and about the time I spent in a commune?"

"I'm investigating the murders of six young women, all young, all have had various hallucinogenic drugs in their systems, all died from manual strangulation, and all were last known to be living on-"

"The hippy commune." Steve finished Mike's sentence as he realized the link between the murders and the questions.

"Yes," Mike confirmed.

"But I don't understand, what does the girls' murders have to do with me and Vice?" Steve's confusion grew.

"We suspect that the murderer may be someone within the commune, itself. We know that one of the young women, Susan Hartman, reportedly never left the commune, not even to go with the other women and children from the commune when they went into Novato to grab supplies," Mike explained.

"And the members don't trust anyone who may be part of the 'Establishment' and aren't willing to co-operate." Steve nodded in understanding, "So you need someone whom they don't know from the investigation to go in and sus them out and I guess that someone might be me?"

"See, I told you the kid was bright, Mike," Mills said proudly.

Mike nodded distractedly, his eyes never leaving the young man sitting next to him, "It is, if you are willing to go undercover for me."

Running his hand over his head again, Steve quickly glanced at his proud lieutenant, who nodded encouragingly, before he looked back at Mike as a smile slipped back onto his lips, "Yeah, I will. A few weeks undercover on a commune sounds like fun. When do we get started?"

Mike smiled as he rose from his seat, "Right now," he announced before he stopped and looked back across at Mills, "That's if that's okay with your lieutenant?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Mills nodded before returning his attention back to his inspector and ordering, "So you better get out there, Keller, and break the news to your partner that he is going to be working solo for a while."

"Yes, Sir," Steve grinned as he rose from his seat and hurried out of the office.

Unable to stop the soft chuckle from escaping as he watched the young inspector's excited exit from the office, Mike turned back to his friend behind the desk and smiled, "Thanks, Kenny."

Mills nodded, his eyes lingering on the young inspector who was now talking excitedly to his partner in the bullpen before he looked back at Mike, "Just remember Mike, he's one of my guys and I want him back in one piece when he's finished, so watch his back for me."

"You know I will," Mike reassured his friend before he turned and walked out into the bullpen.

xxxxxxxxxx

Nearing the town limits of the small town of Novato, Mike felt his hands tighten around the steering wheel as his anxiety level began to rise and he found himself wondering if sending the young man beside him undercover was such a good idea after all, that maybe there was another way they could proceed. He sighed softly, aware that this was probably the only option left to them to investigate this case and bring in a killer before he could kill again.

The case, so far, had yield little leads and their knowledge about the commune, itself was extremely limited. The commune was established by the group's guru, Adrian Samuels, in November 1968 after he had moved to the Rancho Olympica property, leasing the land around the old Branston mansion, including a swimming pool and surrounding barns before a year later buying the entire ranch. Other than some small-time busts of some individual commune members for possession of marijuana or LSD, the commune had so far managed to stay below the police radar.

Adrian Samuels' thorough background check had not yielded anything useful to the case. Born and raised in Pasadena, the thirty- seven-year-old commune guru had been a successful businessman until his marriage had broken down a few years before and his wife had divorced him and won sole custody of their three children, taking them with her when she moved to New York city. It was then Samuels' appeared to have decided to seek a life of communal bliss and had leased the Rancho Olympica property before using the money from a large inheritance that his grandfather had left him and bought the property. Gathering a collection of young people who were seeking peace and harmony around him, Samuels had so far stayed on the right side of the law.

Although the group's membership appeared to be fluid, with young members joining and others leaving, searching for whatever they were looking for somewhere else, background checks on the core members of the commune had also proved fruitless. Although a couple of the members had minor police records ranging from minor charges of drug possession or charges relating to their involvements in various protests both against the war in Vietnam to the demands to change society, no one had any records for the type of violence that had been inflicted on any of the victims.

The victims! Mike felt his heart race as he cast a quick glance at the young inspector sitting beside him looking out of the window. The murdered body of a young man from the commune had been found the day before- so badly beaten that almost every bone in his face had been broken. He was so unrecognizable that he was only able to be identified by his fingerprints which had been taken a year before when he had been caught up in a minor drug bust. His body, like two of the bodies of the six young women, had been found floating in the bay.

Uncertain of why the murderer had suddenly changed his M.O. and had now murdered a man, or if there had been previous male victims whom they had been unaware of because, unlike the bodies of the young women whose bodies had been found floating in the bay or washed up along the bay's shores, their bodies had been washed out to sea, had Mike worried. The undercover case had now taken a dangerous turn and the two days of setting up a viable cover and preparing Steve for going undercover no longer seemed like enough time to get him fully into the role he would have to pull off, but time was against them.

"Okay, let's go through your cover story one last time." Mike ordered gruffly, casting another quick glance towards his passenger as they entered Novato and cruised through the small town, past Lee, who was parked in an old beaten-up farming truck across the road from a row of small tired looking shops, watching a small group of hippies as they entered one of the grocery shops.

If Steve recognized the Homicide inspector who had helped him learn his role for this undercover stint sitting in the old truck across from the shops, he never showed it as he turned back towards Mike and quickly slipped into his undercover persona, "My name is Steve Roberts. I'm from Denver, Colorado, my mom and dad still live there, as well as my younger sister, but I couldn't take living by their establishment rules anymore, so I decided it was time for me to pack my bags and hit the road."

"So why California?" Mike asked as he returned his attention back to the road and continued down the highway, leaving the small town behind them.

"Why not California?" Steve shrugged nonchalantly before he frowned in annoyance and asked, "Look man, why all the questions? I'm just lookin' for somewhere to chill for a while. Maybe find my own little piece of Nirvana," before he grinned cheekily and added, "or maybe even a foxy lady or two…"

Mike nodded as he looked at Steve again, who seemed quite relaxed with going undercover. Dressed in an old pair of jeans, a red tee-shirt and a faded blue denim jacket which had several different patches roughly hand-sown on the front of the jacket and a large white peace sign painted on the back and with his shaggy hair that spilled over the jacket's collar, Steve looked every part of a young man who wanted to drop out of society. "Both Lee and I will be staying at the Best Western Hotel. We'll be staying in town to investigate the latest murder and so we can keep a bit of an eye on you. So, I want you to report in just like we arranged."

Steve frowned, "I'm not sure I-"

"I mean it, Inspector, I want you to report in daily…" Mike reiterated sternly as the radio suddenly crackled to life and he heard Lee's voice, "Inspector 8-2 to Inspector 8-1, come in please." Snatching up the mic as he returned his attention back to the road, Mike depressed the mic's button and snapped, "Inspector 8-1."

"Mike, it's Lee, they have just left the grocery shop and are headed your way. I'll give them a couple of minutes to get ahead before I follow."

"Thanks Lee," Mike answered, glancing down at the mileage, "We're about two miles north of town. Just make sure you stay back far enough not to draw any attention."

"Will do."

Snagging the mic back down on its hook, Mike turned onto a small dirt track and parked behind a line of trees that helped to block sight of the car from anyone driving along the main road.

Turning off the engine, he turned quickly to face Steve as Steve reached back to snag the rucksack from the back seat. "Listen Steve, I want you to be careful and don't take any unnecessary chances. We still don't know who we are dealing with."

"I won't." Steve promised as he turned and reached for the door handle.

Grabbing Steve's arm, momentarily halting his egress from the vehicle, Mike waited until the young man turned back and looked at him questioningly before he added firmly, "I just want you to know that Lee and I will have your back as much as we can."

Steve smiled and nodded as he climbed out of the car, "I know, Sir."

"And I will pull you out at the first sign of trouble." Mike added as Steve slung the rucksack over his shoulder, adjusting it until it was comfortable to carry.

"I know that, too." Steve smiled before he turned and headed through the tree line back towards the main road, giving Mike a confident wave of his hand as he called out over his shoulder, "Catch you later, man."

Mike nodded, his brow creasing with worry, as he watched Steve, through the tree line, reach the edge of the main road and begin to walk in the direction of the park. Holding his breath as he heard the Kombi van approaching in the distance, he never took his eyes of the young inspector as Steve turned back in the direction of the approaching van and held out his thumb. He could feel his heart beating hard in his chest as the van belonging to the commune members, who had just left town, slowed down, and pulled over before Steve approached the van and spoke to the occupants before climbing in.

He shook his head and released his breath in a soft whoosh of relief as the van drove away, followed a minute or two later by Lee's pick-up truck. He had not been sure that the plan Keller had suggested while working out just how he would infiltrate the commune, of being picked up hitchhiking by the commune members after they had finished their weekly shopping trip into Novato would really work. Now all Mike could do was wait and see if the young Vice officer would be welcome into the commune.