CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It had been two days. The 16th precinct was in a frenzy. One of their own was missing, and "The Duct Tape Killer" had come out of hiding. Two bodies were found, both male, within 10 blocks of each other. Elliot stooped down to examine the second victim, a black male, who had suffered gun shot wounds to his lower and upper back.

"He was probably running away," said O'Halloran.

Elliot couldn't focus. He felt as if a part of him had been ripped to shreds. Where was Olivia? No one had heard from her and she hadn't contacted anyone. Huang suggested the trauma of her mother's death may have forced her into hiding, but they couldn't find any trace of her. No witnesses, no airplane tickets, nothing.

"We got something!"

O'Halloran rushed up to Elliot, Fin and Munch. He held a woman's shoe with what was left of the heel, jagged.

"It's a size eight shoe," he explained. "Looks like the woman broke the heel while trying to get away."

"Is it our perp's or a witness?" Fin asked.

"Or a potential victim?" Munch added.

"Our killer is a woman," Elliot was sure of it. "Bag it, and let us know what you find."

"If so, she's starting to get sloppy," said Huang, working out the profile. "Something has changed in her mind, she's feeling more urgent. Before the killings were meticulous, not a shred of evidence left behind. She was in a state of panic to leave her shoe behind."

"It seems like she's speeding up," remarked Fin, "that's two bodies in a ten block radius."

"We need to catch her and fast," said Huang. "It's only a matter of time before this gets even uglier than we can imagine."

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Elliot pushed open the door of Olivia's apartment. When she first went missing, the super had given the detectives a key to access her apartment. He was coming off of 20 straight hours pounding pavement. This woman, this killer, was monstrous and they had to put a stop to her.

He needed consolation and he wanted to be near Olivia's things. As soon as he stepped in the apartment, he noticed a shift. Someone was there, he could feel it. Unholstering his gun, he carefully searched the place, coming to Olivia's bedroom door. Cautiously, he pushed open her door.

To his utter amazement and shock, he saw Olivia. A sleeping Olivia, but Olivia no doubt. He lowered his gun and let out a shout. What was she doing here? Where had she been?

He sat down on the side of the bed, and shook her gently. She continued to sleep. He noticed she was still wearing the clothes she had worn that night, and while he thought that was odd, he was just so happy to see that she was alive and safe. Quickly, he punched in the captain's number on his cell and notified him of Olivia's location. He then crawled into bed next to her and fell into a deep sleep, his arms wrapped tightly around her, unwilling to let her go.

XXXXXXXXXX

"The shoes are brand new," Warner explained. "Probably a cheap pair if the heel broke off so easily."

"Yeah, yeah. You got a DNA sample?" Munch asked impatiently.

"No, the killer couldn't have had them on for very long, no sweat nothing," she said. Munch was beyond frustrated. This woman alluded them at every turn.

"Can you tell where the shoe was bought?" Fin asked.

"Yes, a store called Fiona's. There are 24 of them in Manhattan alone."

"How you figure that?"

"It's on the label," Warner smiled.

"More footwork," Munch grumbled. "I haven't done this much walking in-"

"Ever. Let's go see if the ballistics report is ready," Fin said. "Maybe we got a hit on the gun."

"I'm still working on the cigarette butt we found near the first body," said Warner, "I'll let you know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia woke to find Elliot staring at her strangely. She smiled. He was so handsome.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi yourself," he said, in an odd tone.

She blinked. The memory of her mother's body lying on the cold slab assaulted her memory. She closed her eyes tight.

"Liv, you ok?"

"My mother," she whispered. "She's gone."

"I know," Elliot said gently. "I'm so sorry."

"I should have gone to look for her…"

"It's not your fault," he reassured her. "There was no way you could have known."

"I was so wrapped up…I didn't even think to check if she had made it home!"

Elliot sympathized. But he couldn't excuse her behavior without some answers. "Olivia," he began slowly. "Where have you been?"

She sighed. "I went down to the morgue to identify her body…then I came back here." Even to her, the explanation sounded hollow. She blacked out again. She was sure of it. She hoped to God Elliot didn't notice.

He shook his head slowly, a cold fear seeping into his veins. "Olivia…you've been missing for close to three days. The last time anyone saw you was at the morgue." He took her head into his hands, leaned in close and stared into her eyes. "What is happening to you Olivia? What is going on?"

She stared back, her body starting to tremble. "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know."

He nodded, pulling her into his arms. "We'll get you help for this," he assured her, stroking her hair.

She pushed away from him. "I want to take a shower," she said dully. She stood up and quietly walked into the bathroom, shutting the door after her.

He rubbed his eyes wearily. She was sick, he thought wearily. Mentally sick. His eye caught on something lying in the corner of the room, next to the dresser. His heart literally stopped beating and he couldn't believe his eyes.

Slowly and painfully he walked over to the dresser and bent down to retrieve the item. In his hands he held a platinum blond wig.