More girls had gone missing.
The only thing they had in common, the one thing that was the same for all victims, was their brown hair and green eyes. It didn't matter if they wore coloured contacts or dyed their hair --- they all had brown hair and green eyes at the time of their disappearances, and were between five-eight and five-ten.
Jack stared at the map that Detectives Grady and Daniels had shown him, lips pursed, then he shook his head and picked up a pencil. Without asking permission, he drew on it with faint lines, first connecting where the victims had been taken from, first to last, then where they'd been found, when they'd been found, and finally he started at the highest marker and drew up and over, down to the lowest marker, making a quarter circle, then curved down and out into the ocean to complete the circle. He looked at it for a long time before he spoke.
"What's the radius of this circle?" he asked.
Detective Grady blinked. "About ten miles. Give or take."
Jack turned to him, then dug the pencil into the rough centre of the circle. "Do you know what's in the middle of it?" He didn't get an answer, so he answered it himself. "Loleta."
"So?" Grady asked.
"iSo,/i" Jack went on with a glare, "the next areas to be hit will probably be within ten miles of Loleta. Why are you so stupid?"
"iJack/i."
It was the only thing Rachel had said to him all week. They'd had another fight about children. Jack was seriously wishing the human race reproduced asexually. He turned back to the map with a curl of his lip, sucking on his cheek.
"If you're saying you're the real target here, why circle around Loleta instead of just coming after you?"
"I'm not saying I'm the target. I'm saying this is a great big mind fuck, and I'm going to kill this asshole the first chance I get. Someone's decided to get knife-happy, and what better way to get away with it than to make it seem like I've got something to do with it? Gets the attention off of them, you know? I'd do the same thing. Circle around, getting closer and closer . . . maybe stop for a few months to let them catch their breath, then show up in their living room after they get home from work and have some fun." He moved to his lower lip, gnawing the scar tissue there, too. "If they know where I live, then they know who I'm married to . . . and maybe they're hoping I'll get so damned paranoid that I'll snap and start killing people again." He shrugged. "I mean, it's what iI'd/i have done. Who's going to worry about a few little murders when the Joker's blowing shit up, yeah? Ugh, but I'd do it somewhere bigger, make the trail more complicated, pictures inside pictures . . ." He was drawing again, pinpointing towns and making a connect-the-dots picture with them. Then Jack shook his head as Rachel coughed and turned back to the detectives, twirling the pencil in his fingers. "Wanna see a magic trick?"
"Maybe next time," Daniels finally said. Jack shrugged and tossed the pencil onto the table, then clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head at the two men. "We'll call the towns in the area, let them know to be on the lookout for new people around, maybe put a curfew into place."
"They weren't killed right away," Jack said suddenly. He'd sat and put his heels up on the table, then dropped them with a frown when Rachel shoved at his legs.
"We know that."
"No, no, they were held somewhere. Somewhere . . . at least two rooms. Maybe three. Maybe not a house, a shack possibly . . . but big enough for this guy to hide out in, kill them in. Out of the way. Wouldn't be surprised if it was a bit of a drive into nowhere. I mean, more into nowhere." The two detectives stopped gathering papers and looked at him, but Jack found his fingers to be entirely engrossing. "Might wanna check out any known hidey-holes for about twenty or thirty miles, or look for new ones, you know?"
"We don't have that sort of manpower, Mr. Dawes."
Jack yawned and shrugged. "Yeah, well, that's just my professional opinion. I don't care if more girls go missing."
"And if he nabs your wife?"
Cold brown eyes met hard blue eyes. "Then I find him myself, and I kill him." There was silence for a few moments, then Jack's face split into a huge grin. "But that won't happen, 'cause I'm sure you're all working diligently on this case." Rachel was tugging at his arm with apologies, and Jack hung back at the door, grinning at them. "Oh, yeah, just one more thing . . . do you know how easy it is to buy off the police? Just wondering," he called as Rachel managed to get him out the door.
"Would you please stop baiting those men?" she snapped, not looking behind her as she dragged him out of the building and to the car. "Do you want to be a suspect? They'll lock you up, you idiot."
"Oh, can't have that," he muttered. "Bad food, no sex . . . hey, sort of like what I've got at home these days! Might not be so bad, after all."
Rachel turned on him and jabbed her index finger into his chest. He normally would have winced for her benefit, but this time he just frowned at her. "Look, Jack, I am under no obligation to fuck you, especially when I'm mad at you!"
"If they lock me up, maybe you'll have time to calm the fuck down."
"I don't need to calm down! Why should I be calm, when my husband's trying to get himself arrested just because I won't bend to every demand he makes?!"
"I'm not trying to get arrested," Jack said mildly. "I'm just being helpful."
She yanked her door open and snarled at him. "Be helpful in ways that aren't going to make them think it was you! You're such an asshole, I don't know why I put up with you."
That made him pause as he slid in and buckled up, then he looked at Rachel. She was gripping the steering wheel firmly, glaring out the window and ignoring him and his stomach was clenching in a way that almost made him nauseous. She hadn't meant that. Of course not. She was just upset. Jack swallowed a couple of times before he felt that his voice would be steady enough to not give away his sudden inner shaking.
"I'll leave them alone, then." There. That sounded normal, didn't it? Rachel glanced at him, maybe surprised that he'd given in so easily, and Jack tried a lopsided smile. "Hey, I know which side my bread's buttered on." Wasn't working. Something else. "Y'know, I know I've been a jerk for a while ---"
"The whole of your life," she muttered.
Jack persevered. "--- but, look, I'm sorry, Rachel. I'll . . . think about a kid. I will. I promise." If that would stop this talk about not wanting him, he'd put serious consideration into procreating.
She was quiet. Jack had just started tapping his feet when she spoke again. "Are you afraid, Jack?"
"Of what?" he asked quickly.
"Of having children."
His palms were getting sweaty and his heart was pounding. "Why would I be afraid?"
Rachel shook her head. "No, I guess you wouldn't . . . We're having dinner with Jeff and Veronica tonight. Thomas and his wife will be there, too."
"I can only handle so many police officers in one day . . . we got everything for the salad?" he asked quickly when her lips twitched. "I used the last of the sour cream on my potato last night."
"You used that entire thing of sour cream on one baked potato?"
He shrugged and licked his lips. "Well . . . I had a couple of burritos, too. They were too hot; you know I don't like it when they're hot."
"Ugh . . ."
Jack grinned and put his hand on her knee. "Come on, we'll buy some whipped cream, too."
"I'm still not having sex with you, Jack."
"Never said anything about sex; I just want to lick whipped cream off of you."
Rachel glared at him. "I'm still upset with you."
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "So? Doesn't mean I can't lick whipped cream off of you."
"That's exactly what it means."
Jack groaned. "So, what, are you not going to have sex with me until I agree to have a kid? That's shitty."
"That's not what I'm doing," Rachel protested. "It's just hard to be in the mood when you're being an ass."
"And if I'm not being an ass, I'm trying to knock you up. I can't win, really."
"Look, be nice tonight, all right? You can be reclusive, but I have to see these people every day. Don't talk about the past, don't talk about knives, don't talk about explosives ---"
"Hey, hey, hey," Jack interrupted, "I get it, all right? I get it. Don't talk about anything remotely interesting."
Rachel's voice was soft. "Jack, I know you don't want to go tonight, but they were kind enough to invite both of us. Veronica specifically included you. People want to get to know you."
"They want to either gawk at the man who used to be the Joker, or they want to assure themselves that I'm not going to flip out."
"What's wrong with that? If the Riddler were reformed and moved to town, wouldn't you want to get to know him, to make sure he wasn't going to kill me?"
He sucked on his teeth loudly for a moment. "I hate it when you make sense."
Rachel laughed a little. "Well, one of us has to." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "If you're good tonight, I'll pick up some whipped cream on the way home tomorrow."
"I will be perfect," Jack promised.
"And you'll think about a baby?"
He made a face but nodded. "Yeah, I'll think about it."
"Seriously think about it. Not just think you don't want one and then say no."
He lay his head on the headrest and closed his eyes. "I will studiously weigh all the pros and cons have us having a baby, and then get back to you about it."
Rachel's smile was obvious in her voice. "Good."
***
"Rachel, Jack. You're a little late, aren't you?" Veronica was smiling as she opened the door, and Rachel glared at Jack. He just grinned.
"I'd forgotten why I never take Jack to the store. He's got ADD or something. I spent more time telling him to put things back than actually shopping."
The leggy blonde laughed as she showed them in. "That's understandable. Must be why you're so good with the kids, right, Jack?"
She leaned over the kitchen counter as he set the bowl of fruit salad on it, and as soon as his eyes hit the hem of her low-cut blouse Jack shifted them to Rachel with a shrug. "Something like that. Five cup fruit salad." He opened the lid, showing Veronica the contents. "It's got vegan sour cream, but it still tastes good."
"Five cups of what?" she asked, leaning farther over the counter, which pulled her blouse down even more.
Jack swallowed and ticked off the ingredients with his fingers one at a time. "Sour cream, marshmallows, coconut, mandarin oranges, and pineapple." Then he coughed when she smiled up at him, her curls falling into her face. "Well. I added a few things to it."
"Jack's concept of making this salad is putting in whatever he thinks will taste good. Five cups is just a minimum," Rachel said with a laugh as she hugged Jack's arm briefly. He took that opportunity to hug her waist and press his nose into her hair, kissing her forehead when she looked up at him.
"Well, I can hardly wait to try it." Veronica straightened and walked to the patio door, opening it to the smell of cooking meat. "Jeff, is the steak ready? Rachel and Jack are here."
"Almost," he called back. "Come on out, have a beer!"
"Socialising," Jack muttered under his breath as he followed Rachel outside, making it sound like a bad word. He had to squeeze past Veronica and it didn't help to have his arm brush against her bosom. He fought the urge to rub it as he smiled slightly at Jeff and the other couple on the patio. He set the salad on the wooden table when Rachel directed him to it, then took the beer that Thomas handed him. "Thanks."
"No problem," the lieutenant told him. "Glad you could make it. How have you been, Jack?"
"Uhh . . . good." Jack took a drink and then looked at Rachel, who had sat next to the man's wife. She had given birth a few months ago, and cradled the small baby in her arms. He groaned at the look on Rachel's face as she took the baby. She looked so damned happy with the tiny creature in her arms, kissing it's forehead gently and cooing at it.
"Oooh, she's feeling the baby urges, eh?" Thomas asked as he followed Jack's gaze.
"How do I get her to stop?"
The other man laughed, slapping Jack's back and Jack jumped at the contact. "You have a baby. Sorry, Jack, that's about all that'll help."
"I don't want a kid, though." He took a swig of his beer and looked away when Rachel looked at him, hoisting the baby in the air as it giggled. "Would you trust me with a baby?"
"Me?" Thomas snorted as he took a drink of his beer. "I don't know about a baby, but I've seen how you are with your dance class, and I heard you single-handedly stopped Janet Mills from starving herself. Now, I don't know you very well, but I think you'd be a good dad. Especially with Rachel there to help." He took another swig and shrugged. "Just my opinion."
"I was hoping you'd be on my side," Jack muttered.
"And a year ago I would have been. But man, I'm telling you, watching Helna get bigger and bigger, seeing the ultrasound . . . I tell you, when I first felt Mitzi move, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. That little girl's my pride and joy, man."
Jack turned slightly to look over his shoulder again. The baby was curled up on Rachel's shoulder, sucking her thumb contentedly, and he turned back to Thomas as his gut clenched.
"Yeah, I'd probably kill it on accident."
"You want one, don't you?" Thomas snorted a little as Jack looked up in surprise. "Not hard to see, Jack." He hesitated, then pursed his lips and leaned closer. "You're afraid you'll abuse the kid?" Jack nodded. "Can't figure out how to tell Rachel that that's why you don't want one?" Another wary nod. Thomas shook his head as he sighed. "My old man beat on me and my mother all the time," he said quietly. "I always thought I'd turn out like him, so I tried to keep kids out of the picture with Helna. She knew it from the start, but it took a long time before I could talk about it with her, and even longer before she convinced me that I wouldn't hurt our kids like I'd been hurt." He coughed, and neither man was looking at the other as he went on. "I'll tell you something, though. Your woman's your life support, man. She's there for you no matter what, and she's not going to stop loving you even when you know you don't deserve her. Women," he scoffed with admiration, raising his beer to his lips again as he watched his wife and daughter. "God created the universe is ascending order of holiness . . . is it any wonder He created them last?"
His usual reply of being an atheist died before it reached his lips as Jack watched Rachel hand little Mitzi back to her mother, cheeks glowing with happiness. His hands clenched as he fought back an only recently familiar longing, and then Veronica was sitting so close to him that their thighs touched, draping her am over his shoulder and leaning in close with a giggle.
"Isn't little Mitzi precious?" she asked. She either didn't notice Jack stiffening or she ignored it, the hand on his opposite shoulder stroking it very, very slightly. "I bet you're not getting any sleep, Tom."
The man laughed and shook his head. "None at all."
"I wish you'd come into town more often, Jack," the woman went on, her breath warm on his cheek. Jack was slowly starting to relax. "Or are you only allowed out on Saturdays?"
"Uh . . . I can come into town whenever I want. There's just . . . stuff to do at home." Yeah, away from people. He liked her perfume.
"Really? We just added this patio. I don't recall you ever coming into the hardware store."
He faced straight ahead, but Jack's eyes slid to her gently moving fingers on his shoulder. "Yeah, well, there's stuff to use at home."
"Handyman, is that it? I think that's marvellous; Jeff hired Bob to do the patio --- he's the local contractor."
"Well, it's nothing I can't do myself, and if I need help I'll ask for it." Jack shrugged, uncomfortably aware of how close Veronica was. "Just haven't needed help yet."
"Steaks're done!" Jeff announced.
"Oh, good, I'm starving," Helna replied. "Rachel, could you take Mitzi while I dish up?"
"I'd be glad to. Come here, sweety," Rachel crooned, her voice jumping an octave or so as she once again cuddled the baby to her. "Jack, will you get me some food?"
He was glad to get out of Veronica's embrace as he stood up. "Yeah, sure." Talk turned to mundane things as food was gathered and eaten, including the demolition of the old library. Rachel sat back and smiled as she held Mitzi in one arm and ate with the other, listening as Jack pointed out all the flaws in the current plans, telling the chief of police and his lieutenant how to easily, cheaply, and completely destroy the old building.
He was okay, she decided. A little stubborn, but . . . yeah, she'd keep him. She laughed to herself and watched Mitzi play with her fingers, carefully ignoring the looks Jack thought she didn't know he was giving her, smiling down at the baby.
*******
A/N: Oaky, Maggie Gyllenhaal (and therefore Rachel) has blue eyes. I couldn't find a set eye colour for her, however, when I started writing and the picture of her eyes I was looking at seemed to be green. So that's why they're green. I know it's a mistake, but I didn't want to go back over both fics to correct it, so Rachel gets green eyes. Shush and don't bother me about it.
Also, Tom's claim that God created the universe in ascending order of holiness, meaning from least holy to most holy, is a Jewish belief. It explains why men have so many restrictions placed on them in Judaism, and why women don't: men need all those rules just to get to the level of holiness that women begin at. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, dudes.
And, as always, I love my review monkeys. ^_^