Clarity and Salvation

Chapter Eleven

Boyd stuck his hand out, trying to lay his hands on the annoying ringing object. He was convinced he had only just fallen asleep so it couldn't be his alarm. He finally made contact with his mobile phone, knocking his watch across the room. "Shit." Raising it to his ear, he barked, "Boyd."

"Boss, they've found another body."

"What time is it?" Boyd asked, trying to sit up and put the light on at the same time.

"Three am."

Inwardly he groaned. "Another body. How? Where?"

"There was an email. Because I was the officer who flagged it, they called me."

"He tried to contact Grace?" Boyd slowly opened his eyes.

Spencer had been awake for ten minutes and he was still having problems processing. "Yeah. I'm guessing he wasn't expecting her to get it until the morning."

"Where?" He didn't care that he sounded less than welcoming.

Spence gave him the address.

"Ok, pick up Stella. . ." He hesitated, a strange thought tugging at the back of his brain. "And meet us there. Call Eve."

Climbing out of bed, he padded out into the living room and knocked lightly on Grace's door. There was no answer. "Grace." When he still couldn't hear anything he pushed open the door and stepped inside. She slept, he noted, facing the door, the duvet hanging off the bed, pillows padded around her head. She also slept in considerably less clothing than she wore during the day. He felt a little like a voyeur, standing there, watching her sleep but he couldn't help himself. "Grace!" he tried a little louder and she stirred, rolling onto her back. It was no good, he was going to have to try a more tactile approach. Fleetingly, he debated kissing her, but he knew that it was just fanciful, instead he gently touched her arm.

"Boyd?" she asked, startled, sitting up and pulling the duvet around her, "What's wrong?"

"I wouldn't have woken you. . ."

Realisation hit before he could continue. "More bodies?"

"Yeah." Involuntarily he stared at her in the dim lighting of the room.

"I'll throw on some clothes."

"Ok." He didn't move.

"You should go back to your room and do the same."

He glanced down and realized that he was standing in her room in his under shorts. "Yeah." He made it half way to the door. "Is it possible Spence didn't need to pick Stella up?"

"Are you asking if they're sleeping together?"

"Do I even want to know the answer?"

Grace pulled a face, enjoying watching him getting distressed.

Boyd shook his head, trying to dispel the two distinct images from his mind. "Ok, I'm going to get dressed now."

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There was something more sinister about visiting crime scenes in the dark of night, picking your way through leaves and scrub, expecting the worst.

"Is it possible there are snakes?" Boyd asked, leading her towards the crime scene.

"I don't think a Boa or an adder are going to jump out and eat you," Grace deadpanned.

"See that's what I love about you - so reassuring."

Spence was waiting when they finally reached what had become a clearing, the foliage trampled, search lights set around the area.

Eve was crouched down in her now traditional white overall, studying the two bodies.

"What have we got?"

"Two bodies. Identical wounds which have bled out." She cast her torch over the red saturated grass beneath her knees. "The more recent was definitely killed here."

Grace leaned over and took a look, stepping back almost immediately.

"They both took a knife to the femoral artery," Eve continued, talking to Grace.

"ID?" Boyd barked, looking at Grace.

"James Foster. He was nineteen when he entered the unit. Would be 29 now."

Stella appeared in the glow of the search light. "The second scene is this way."

Boyd glanced at Grace and back at Stella. They began to walk towards the young DC.

"You have to admit, Boyd, Spence's jumper does suit her."

He growled something inaudible and stomped on ahead leaving Grace grinning in his wake, taking a small measure of pleasure in the midst of what was awful.

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They were gathered around the board, empty sandwich containers littering the table along with half empty coffee mugs.

Boyd tapped the photo of the latest find. "Is he decelerating? Is the urge dying down?"

"More likely he has just taken it little longer to find them," Grace commented.

"But he could be . . ."

"I don't know what he's doing. Catch him and maybe you can ask him," she snapped a little too readily, lack of sleep pushing them all to the edge.

"Give me something I can work with and maybe I bloody will." He threw his hands up in the air. "He was your patient. He's trying to get in your mind. Maybe you should listen to what he's telling you."

There was a stunned silence in the room as the spat finally hit the mark.

It was Sunday afternoon and they were all at the office, having not bothered returning home after their rude awakenings.

Grace stared back at him, the hurt reflected in her eyes. Slowly, she rose to her feet and headed purposefully towards her office.

"Grace," he called after her. "Come on Grace." He knew he had gone too far the second the word left his mouth but he was frustrated and that frequently meant he was out of control.

Grace slammed the door vehemently. She wasn't known for her tantrums or for getting overly emotional but this time it was a little too close to home. How could he think she wasn't listening, wasn't trying to profile him.

He knocked.

She ignored him, focusing on the blinds rather than voicing her anger.

Boyd knocked again, opening the door a little.

"For God's sake can't you just leave me alone."

Frustrated, he closed the door and strode back to his office, angrily slamming his own door, the sound reverberating around the office.

Spence glanced between the two offices, his expression sullen. "This is bad on so many levels."

"It's not as if they haven't drawn blood before," Stella offered, watching Boyd pace his office.

"This time it didn't feel like watching your parents fighting," Spence volunteered. He had a good idea why Boyd was reacting the way he was. Spencer's own anger and need to bring Grace justice was leading him to make decisions he wouldn't normally make, not least of all taking Stella back to his apartment. The thing about Boyd though was that when he let his emotions get involved he became determined to the point of obsession, fearless about going round, over and through anything that got in his way. Grace it appeared was in his way.

Eve shook her head, professionally she respected Grace but she also considered her a friend. As she watched Grace standing in the middle of her office she realised that friendship had gone by the wayside since the break in. She needed to rectify that. "It's hard to be professional when your emotions are ruling your head." Softly, she tapped on Grace's door. "It's Eve."

"Come in."

Grace settled herself on her sofa, staring at the pile of work on her desk. It wasn't the first time she had thought of walking away, and not the second, only this time it wasn't an option, at least not until they had found the murderer.

"I was wondering if you fancied grabbing a late lunch."

"Thanks, but. . ."

"We can share an expensive bottle of red and you can rant about Boyd," Eve said, smiling weakly.

Grace looked up at her, not sure what to say.

"It can't be easy living with him under normal circumstances. When all this is going on. . ."

"He's trying so damn hard."

"Let's go somewhere, drink, eat and then maybe it won't be quite so awful when you go home tonight."

"I wouldn't count on it." Grace grabbed her oversized bag and followed Eve into the corridor. "We're going out for a little while. Call if you need us."