AN: A big thank you to all of you who are following this story, marked it as a favorite or even follow me as an author. I'm still amazed each time I see one of those alerts in my inbox. I really appreciate it, especially as you all have to be so patient. Updating this frequent is just not working out.

I'd like to thank glistening sun again for all the great beta work!

All mistakes left are mine, rated M to be on the safe side.

Chapter four

They were back at the hotel desperately needing some answers. Finding out the woman's identity could help steer them into the direction of her killer, or maybe towards the motive. The hotel manager told them that the bartender who had been on duty the night before would be available for questioning.

Andy walked at a brisk pace behind her. His eyes kept wandering to her toned calves. No matter how conservatively Sharon dressed, she always looked extremely hot to him. Andy liked seeing her lean legs revealed by her skirt. He was still engrossed in paying attention to her legs, when he heard Sharon identify herself to the bartender.

"And this is Detective Flynn, we'd like to ask you a few questions."

Her voice was gentle, she smiled at the man. A polite smile, the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes. The smile she used to make people more comfortable around her creating a false sense of security. She was very good at that.

"We wondered if this woman looks familiar to you? I'm sorry the picture is quite graphic."

"Yes, she was in here last night. I have seen her on a few occasions before that."

"Is she a guest here at the hotel?"

"No, I don't think she is. At least not the paying kind."

Sharon didn't seem to understand. Andy got the idea though.

"Was she here with a regular?"

"Her husband?"

"Probably someone's husband, yes."

Sharon looked confused at Andy, who seemed to be on the same page as the bartender.

"One of her regulars?"

"I believe he's gone up with her before."

"Did you see her return?"

"No, I guess it was an all nighter."

"Has that happened before?"

"Yes, I often noticed that she didn't return that same evening. But she was always back the day after, looking for someone else who'd pay her drinks and more."

"Don't you have a 'no hooker' policy?"

This wasn't the Winston, but it wasn't some crappy hotel either. He could feel Sharon's eyes burn at him. She wasn't out there the way he was.

"She didn't look like one from the streets. She never came onto the men. They always approached her. There was never any money exchanged here. So what can we do?"

"Any idea whether she worked on her own?"

"Never saw a pimp, but I guess that's no guarantee."

"No I guess not. Any idea what she called herself?"

"No. She wasn't one for small talk."

"Name of the guy who went up with her?"

"Sorry…"

"We can get a court order."

Sharon had no patience at all, and no understanding for privacy policies, not when someone had been murdered. Suddenly her understanding smile disappeared and changed into a hard stare instead.

"Mr. Mitchell. He's a regular customer here. I didn't give you his name, okay? He's a big tipper."

Sharon sighed.

"Alright, then let's see if Mr. Mitchell is still a guest here."

They walked through the corridor.

"This wasn't just any hooker."

"Not a street hooker. Probably one of those call girls."

Sharon looked at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"They're not the same, Sharon. Call girls don't walk the streets. Sometimes they're just paid to keep someone company."

"You definitely know an awful lot about that."

Andy frowned, confused. There had been an edge to her voice. Now what was that all about? Was it irritation? He was struck by her reaction, unable to say anything back in return.

The door of the hotel room was standing open, cleaning utensils in the doorway. The presence of the maid told them that their guest had already left. Andy cursed himself. They should have done this yesterday. The woman could have been killed in this room. The maid might have already cleaned away part of their evidence.

"We don't know whether she was killed here."

"And now we'Ll probably never know "

Sharon looked around noticing the surveillance camera in the corner of the hallway.

"Yes, we will."

"Hm?"

Sharon grinned widely pointing into the direction of the camera.

"I hope that thing worked."

"Only one way to find out."

Sharon was right. There wasn't anything they could do in the room anyway.

Andy's eyes wandered over to Sharon. Mesmerized he looked at how her toes kept rubbing her calf. She had kicked off her shoes the moment she sat down on the chair. The slow rhythm was very distracting, causing his mind to wander off yet again. What would it be like to allow his fingers to trail over that flawless porcelain skin? What would it be like for her to feel his touch? Would it be tantalizing? Would she moan? The mere thought of it caused sweat to form on his forehead, his face felt flushed.

Sharon briefly looked over at Andy. He was so quiet and his face flushed.

"Is it too hot for you?"

Andy stared at her. He saw her lips moving, but it took a few seconds before her words registered. Hot. Yeah, she looked so damn hot.

"Andy?"

"Yeah, it's a bit hot in here."

He ran his hand through his hair, trying to banish the thoughts about her from his mind. Instead he fixed his eyes on the screen featuring the grainy security footage.

"That's taking ages."

Andy pressed the button to fast forward. Somehow being with Sharon in this small room was testing him. He was in need of fresh air, in this closet of a room she seemed to be all around him. His nostrils filled with her scent. Not only her perfume, her shampoo, it was the smell of her body that quickened his pulse. This time there was no window to roll down.

"W w wait, stop… by that time, our Jane Doe was already dead."

"You're right… and Mr. Mitchell did not return to his room."

"Might be a reason for that."

"Puts him right on top of the list. Let's see if we can find him elsewhere on the tapes. "

"We better start with the tape from the hallway, see where they're heading."

"Good thinking."

He was rewarded with a smile. Andy could not stop looking at her. He could stare at her for hours and never get bored. A small smile curled his lips, while he watched her taking notes on her notepad. She was the best thing that ever happened to him.

"Looks like he is more than willing to go up with her… and she doesn't seem constrained in any way… wait a minute, that's her room. Didn't the bartender say she didn't rent a room?"

"Hm-mm. We better check in whose name that room was booked."

"Doubt that was a real name."

Andy sighed. It would take ages before they'd find out this young woman's name.

"He leaves and without our victim. She didn't get into that laundry container herself."

"He could have come back for her."

"She wasn't dead when he left, look there she is."

Andy frowned.

"She's entering the room next to hers…."

Sharon was just as confused as he was.

"Who's that guy? Another client?""

"They're arguing."

They looked at the man and woman on the screen. They were both agitated, the guy grabbed her arm, but she pulled herself free.

"Guess someone else just reached the top position on our list of suspects."

The only thing they would have to do now was figure out who she'd been arguing with.

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The hotel register didn't help. It wasn't much of a surprise. This case seemed like a swamp, dragging them in, swallowing them hole. The echo of Sharon's heels sounded hard against the basements walls. They were on their way to Nichols. Normally the coroner's report could be a break through, but this time it seemed like they already knew all the facts. The woman had been strangled. An exact time of dead wouldn't help them much at this time either. They needed something, so they could give the girl a name and Nichols wasn't a miracle worker.

"There you are…"

"Sorry, we were caught up watching security footage."

"Did you learn anything?"

"We have an unnamed suspect."

"Sorry, I won't be able to help you out much either. The young lady didn't give me a whole lot of answers."

"So she was strangled."

"Murder weapon: a strong pair of hands."

"Rage."

"They were arguing."

"There are a couple of bruises. I can't tell whether they happened during a struggle or…"

"Or?"

"She had rough sex. Some guys like it rough."

"That doesn't give us much either."

"Did she resist? Scratch the guy maybe?"

"Found some dried blood underneath her fingernails. Might as well be from her customer. This happened fast. Whoever killed her used a large amount of force. Broke her larynx."

Sharon shook her head. She couldn't understand people losing themselves in rage.

"Any help on who she was?"

"I'm sorry."

Both Andy and Sharon stared at the naked body on the table. If only she could talk, tell them her name, tell them what happened, so they could catch her murderer.

"I wish I could tell you more."

Sharon walked closer to the dead woman. She looked like an average girl without the low cut dress and the bold red lipstick. She looked like she received a good upbringing. Healthy skin without any scars, hair healthy from root to tips, the skin of her hands soft, nails well manicured.

"How old is she?"

"Roundabout your age, lovely lady."

"She doesn't look like a girl who grew up in the bad parts of Los Angeles.. So why isn't she enrolled in a good university, instead of sitting in bars, picking up men?"

"Could be our answer."

Sharon looked at Andy.

"Her family could be looking for her."

Right now that was the only thing they could hope for as they had no leads whatsoever. Missing persons reports would once again be invading their workspace. They hoped someone had already been missing this young woman for some time now.

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Outside dusk fell. By now they were the only ones left. Hamilton had left thirty minutes ago, telling them not to make it too late a night. Although unspoken, both of them seemed to agree they wouldn't leave there until they had found at least one clue.

She couldn't believe how many pretty young blonde women were reported missing. How many families were in agony every day, wondering what had happened to their daughters or sisters? Would they find some form of relief when they would finally learn what had happened to their loved one? Even if that would mean finding out their loved one had died? She only knew that if they would find out the identity of the young woman tonight, they would have to bring someone the bad news. Devastated eyes would torment her before she fell asleep. It was like that with each case and it would last until they had wrapped it up. Giving the family the answers they needed to begin the process of grieving was the only thing that banished those devastated eyes from her mind.

They really had no idea. This woman could have been reported missing weeks or months ago or maybe not at all, not yet. They could work through these large stacks of files and still wouldn't find anything.

Seeing one blonde woman after another they all started looking alike to him. He pinched the skin between his eyebrows trying to relax his eyes for a moment before he looked up at Sharon. They had been quiet in their search. Sharon had quickly eaten a salad taking bites in between opening files, but that had been it. Worried, he now looked over at her catching her rubbing her neck with her hand.

He wasn't thinking with his mind when he got up from his chair. He made the six steps around both their desks, stopping behind her. Sharon didn't even notice, her mind buried in her task, not until his fingers touched her hand. Her eyes met his.

"Painful neck?"

"Mhm."

"Let me try…My eyes need a rest anyway…"

Was he actually doing this? Was he about to give her a massage? He shouldn't be anywhere with his hands near her and definitely not on her. What was he thinking? He hadn't been thinking, that's what had gotten him in this mess. He couldn't back down now. 'Be gentle,' he kept telling himself, 'she'll notice when you're tense.'

His hands were warm, lightly stroking her skin before his fingers squeezed her shoulders kneading them gently with a slow pace. Her shoulders fell down, relaxed. She closed her eyes ,as she felt the tension flow from her body. Andy's touch was like magic.

Andy focused on her, while he rubbed her shoulders. He couldn't imagine how tight her muscles were. He wondered what that was about. Wasn't she sleeping well at night? Could something be troubling her? Was it the job? Was it Raydor? Suddenly it felt good to knead away whatever troubles she had. A smile formed on his lips when he saw her tilt her head to the left. He could swear she had closed her eyes. She seemed to be enjoying this, his hands on her skin, the tender movements he made.

'No, Flynn, you cannot think like this.'

When her head slightly fell backwards he couldn't keep his mind rational anymore. He saw her face, he saw her visibly enjoying his ministrations. Should he want this? His heart screamed at him. For how long had he fantasized about being in a situation like this? But no matter how loud his heart screamed it was overpowered by the rational words which came from his mind. He could not think about her like this. It would never happen. It couldn't. It probably even shouldn't. They were partners, they were friends. There was no room to throw these complex feelings into the mix.

As soon as he had reached that conclusion his hands released her shoulders. He saw her surprise at his sudden release. Another matter he didn't want to think about.

"Your muscles felt like one big knot." Concern seeped into his voice.

"I haven't slept well last night."

"Something troubling you?"

"I don't know… the case maybe... I just kept tossing and turning."

He could hear by her intonation she wanted to change the subject, uncomfortable somehow in talking to him about this.

"I know, that sometimes happens. Comes with the job."

A sad smile formed on her lips. He knew what it was like. He was a cop just like her. Jack hadn't known, he hadn't been very understanding either, sometimes even irritated. He would leave the bed frustrated when he couldn't get any sleep with her tossing and turning next to him. She wondered whether it had been the same for Andy during his marriage to Sandra. Had she understood? Could anyone who wasn't actually a cop understand? She knew why she felt such a close friendship with Andy. He always understood.