Hiya everyone!

Big hugs and thanks out to: pol, kacie20, Agel15 and Sweet-Rush37 for the reviews. I've been on a writing spree the past few days, so here is Chapter 8. Please read and enjoy and don't forget to review! ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own the CJ characters, but Andrew is all mine!

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I walked back to my apartment and gathered up the folders that contained all of the information we had on the Burke murders. I tucked it into my briefcase and drove to The Pogue. To my surprise I found a prime parking spot right outside the door. I walked in, realizing that I had a while before the bar emptied out and I'd have time to talk to my dad alone.

The bar was packed when I walked in. I looked around for a table and couldn't find one, so I went up to the bar and found a seat against the wall next to an older guy nursing a beer. My dad came around as soon as he saw me.

"Jordan," he said in his thick Boston accent, which made my name sound like 'Jahden'. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "Just wanted to get a drink," I said with a smile.

He eyed the briefcase I had leaning against the wall. "Uh huh."

"Okay," I admitted. "I want to go over a case with you. I didn't realize how early it was."

"I thought so. Are ya hungry? Do you want something to eat?"

"Nah, I just ate. I went to Luigi's with Andrew."

Dad looked surprised. "Andrew? You're still seeing him?"

I fought back a spurt of irritation. It seemed even my dad knew my tendency towards one night stands. "Yeah. Well, not seeing him seeing him..."

Dad nodded. "Gotcha. You wanna beer?"

"Of course," I said and he poured me a Guinness.

"It's on the house," he said with a wink.

"Hey, thanks," I said and took a swig of the rich beer, relishing the slight burn as I swallowed.

Several hours and a couple of beers later the bar had emptied out. Dad locked up behind the last few customers. He poured us each a cup of coffee and then sank into a chair across the table from me.

"So, Jordan, what's going on?"

"Have you heard about the Burke High killings?" I asked.

Dad frowned. "I heard something, but there weren't many details."

"Yeah, they've been trying to keep it quiet, but I think it's about to blow," I said. I opened the briefcase and pulled out the files. I slid them across the table to my Dad who opened them up. Within minutes he looked up at me, his face revealing his shock.

"These are all friends of yours," he said.

"Yeah, I know," I said.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" he asked, his face reddening.

"Because I didn't want you to get upset. Obviously I was justified in thinking that you would be," I said wryly.

"Of course I would be! This is three of your close high school friends. I don't think this is just a coincidence," he said sharply.

I winced. "Yeah, I know."

"Dr Macey didn't keep you on this case did he?"

"Uh...Yes?" I said tentatively.

"You shouldn't be on this case! It's too close to you, Jordan! He should know that."

"Dad!" I said loudly. "Calm down. I want to be on this case. These are my friends we're talking about. I want to do what I can to help. Don't worry, I'm only assisting and I've been banned from doing any extra work."

Dad looked unconvinced. "Since when has that ever mattered to you before?"

I sighed. "I shouldn't have come," I said and started gathering up the folders.

Then it was Dad's turn to sigh. "No, no, Jordan. I want you to come to me. I'm sorry I overreacted. You're an adult; you can make your own decisions."

He didn't have to say it; I could clearly hear the 'no matter how stupid they are' that he longed to add.

"What did you want to talk to me about, exactly?" he asked.

I explained the case to him, every detail I could think of. When I was finished I said, "We haven't been able to find a connection between them except that they went to high school together."

"And they were friends of yours," Dad pointed out.

"Yeah, but that can't have anything to do with it," I said. Dad raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "There's no forced entry, so they either knew the killer or the killer was disguised as someone they trusted."

"Right, like a deliveryman or the apartment super," Dad said.

"Uh huh. But the other thing that bugs me is that he severely beat these women, and the wounds were made while they were still alive. Why didn't they fight back? There are no defensive wounds, nothing. And he used a knife from their kitchen."

Dad was silent for a few minutes. He took a drink of his coffee. Then he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"So there's nothing to indicate that these women had been in contact. No phone calls or anything," he said finally.

"Nothing."

"Well, let's not think about how they're connected right now. Let's concentrate on the killer. It's most likely someone you went to high school with."

"We figured that, but that narrows it down to every guy in like six years of school, if you cover every year we were in high school. They're starting with the guys that graduated the same year, but that could still take a while."

"You said he didn't rape the victims."

I shook my head.

"But he beat them severely and the stab wounds definitely point towards anger."

"Uh huh."

"Who could have a grudge against them?"

I thought. "I don't know, Dad, it's been fifteen years. We weren't in the popular group, I can't think of anyone we could have made angry. Besides, the guy didn't have to go to school with us. Maybe he got a hold of a yearbook and it's just coincidence that they happen to have all been friends."

"Yeah, that could be it too," Dad said, the skeptical look on his face showing how unlikely he thought it was. "As far as why they didn't fight back, you know that well over half of all victims of violent crime freeze up when faced with danger. They might have tried to fight back, but if the killer is a strong man, they wouldn't have much chance. One good punch would have had them out cold."

"So maybe they were knocked out when he stabbed them," I mused. "Spatter patterns show that they were on the floor when they were stabbed...."

"Well, maybe it went like this...." Dad said and we fell into one of our role playing whodunits. "The killer is posing as the apartment super. He knocks on the door, tells her that there's been a report of a gas leak and he has to check on it.....she opens up the door and he hits her, knocking her out."

"Then he goes into the kitchen and grabs a knife. He knows what he's doing so he uses gloves..."

Dad continued. "He starts beating her and stabbing her, taking out his anger on her. He leaves the knife because he figures that he hasn't left any evidence to point to him, and he leaves."

We were quiet for a few minutes, digesting that.

"Why don't you think that the killer could be a boyfriend or something?" Dad asked.

"There's nothing to indicate that they had boyfriends, and besides, Lisa Smith was married."

"Which doesn't mean anything," Dad pointed out.

"I know, but there's nothing, no unidentified phone calls, none of their friends or co-workers knew anything..." I said. "I don't think they could have kept it that secret."

"Well, I think that we have a good idea of how it happened," Dad said.

"Which doesn't get us any closer to the killer..." I said.

"No, it doesn't. But let the detectives do their job, they'll find something eventually."

If only that were true, I thought, thinking of the many cases that went unsolved.

"Alright, Dad. Thanks for going over this with me," I said with a sign as I gathered up the reports and stuffed them back into the briefcase.

"Sorry I couldn't be more help."

"It's fine, it was just good to talk it over," I said. "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, Jordan. Drive safe," he said.

I smiled and walked out to my car. It had stopped raining, but the air was still bitterly cold as I climbed into my car and drove back to my apartment.

X

Once I was back at my apartment I took a long, hot shower and dressed in my most comfortable pair of sweats. I was kind of tired, but I knew I was too wound up to sleep, so I went into my room and dug underneath my bed for a minute and pulled out a dust covered box. I sat on the floor and opened it up.

Inside were some personal belongings, the only ones I still had. I couldn't even really say why I had taken them with me when I moved out, except that I was experiencing some nostalgia at the time.

I rummaged through the assorted papers and trinkets until, at the bottom of the box, I found my old high school yearbooks. I pulled them out and opened my senior year book.

A photo fell out and I picked it up. It was me and my five best friends, standing outside the high school on graduation day. I shivered when I realized that three of those girls were now dead.

I was in the middle. My hair was down to my waist and wavy. I was grinning crazily into the camera. On one side was Lindsay, on my other side, leaning on me and doing rabbit ears behind my head was Shannon O'Brien, her dark red hair curling wildly. Lisa Donovan and Andrea Larsen were laughing, looking down, and Darcie Williams, her brown hair cut in a short pageboy, was sitting cross legged in front of us. We were all wearing the clothes of the times, bell bottom jeans and tee-shirts.

I remembered that day. It was the day we had all pledged to be friends forever, to not let graduation and college and life come between us.

But it had. Of all of my high school friends, Shannon O'Brien had been the only one that I had kept in contact with, talking several times a year and getting together for lunch once in a while. We had been the closest out of our group of friends, having known each other since Grade School. I didn't really have friends outside of work, as a rule, but Shannon had always been the exception. She had gone to law school while I went to medical school and had become a well respected attorney. I hadn't talked to her since I had gotten back into Boston, though. She had been engaged the last time I had talked to her.

And then there was Darcie Williams. I hadn't seen or heard from her in years. I didn't know if she was married or even if she still lived in Boston.

I stared down at the picture. There wasn't anything I could do to help Lisa, Lindsay and Andrea, except to help find the killer. But if Darcie and Shannon were in danger I was going to do everything in my power to track them down.

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