Chapter Eleven:

Buffy hurried down the bank of the river. This being the second time she'd been called to this river in as many days.

A body waited below. Another victim of the same killer, from what she'd been able to gather over the phone, left just a few yards from the last one.

She'd left Angel back in her apartment, snuggled into her bed looking decidedly masculine amidst her flowered sheets. He'd been warm and solid next to her, and very hard to leave. She could still taste his last kiss on her lips, the feeling of his body against hers as he tried his hardest to make her want to hurry back to him.

Riley stood off to the side as she finally slid the last few feet to the bottom of the hill. She handed him the coffee that she'd stopped and got without a word. "Sorry," he said. "I told Chief I could handle it myself but he said to call you." He shrugged and walked over to where the body was lying under a white sheet that was slowly turning red.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." Buffy bent to lift a corner of the sheet to look at the body. Another girl, blonde, blue eyes this time, but still wide open with a look of horrified terror in them. She lifted the blanket further, seeing the long wounds on the naked body. "Raped?" she asked.

"Yeah, and he did quite the job on her. She's got bruises and contusions like nothing I've ever seen before. And he took a souvenir this time. Her ear is missing." Riley crouched down next to her. "How was the date? I didn't want to interrupt it again."

"The date was fine, and you didn't interrupt anything." She stood and looked around the small clearing. The body was close to the river but not wet, not like the last girl. She'd been left posed, her body straight, her arms at her side, blood pooled under the body. This was the primary kill site; it had to be, unless there was a blood trail. "Did your find blood anywhere but under the body?" she asked him.

"No, she was definitely killed here. He took her clothing with him, unless it's someplace else in the park. How he got in here, I don't know. We've had guys on all the entrances all day since the last murder." He lifted up a plastic bag. "He also left us the murder weapon."

Buffy took the bag staring at the knife it contained. Small, with a short blade, the handle was metal. It was a blade used for precision cuts, a scalpel, very sharp and covered in blood. She turned the bag around in her hands staring at it as if it could tell her the name of the killer. "Has it been dusted for prints?" she asked, her eyes still on the knife.

"Yeah, it's clean." He stepped back from the body, careful of where he put his feet. The park was a big scene to cover and he didn't want to foul the crime scene. "He's got a scalpel, he's probably also got latex gloves."

"What about a purse? Do we have an ID on her?"

"Nothing yet. Did you see her?"

"I know," she said, huffing a breath that sent her bangs flipping up. "I saw, she looks like me. And it's creeping me out. But what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Have you noticed anyone following you? Have you had any strange phone calls or hang ups?" He rubbed her shoulder, feeling the knots that seemed huge under her skin caused by stress.

"Just you," she said, trying to lighten up the tension between the two of them. "Besides that, no, no one."

"You've been getting a lot of press recently since the Walsh case. Maybe someone is fixated on you. I'm going to talk to Chief and see about getting some protection on you, Buffy. He might be going for substitutes now, but you never know when he'll want the real thing." Riley pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jacket and flipped it open.

"I'll lose them, so don't bother." She walked away from him, hearing his furious curse and then the click as he flipped his phone closed. She walked the perimeter of the crime scene, searching the ground with the flashlight that she'd pulled from her pocket. She heard him following her and sighed, ready for the fight he was about to give her.

"Buffy..."

"I don't want to discuss this, Riley. I can't do my job if I've got people following me around. And I'm a cop, dammit. I protect other people, I can damn sure protect myself. So just drop it!" She could hear the tension in her own voice and hated it.

His hand dropped on her shoulder, flipping her around so that she was forced to crick her neck up to see him. "No," he said furiously. "No, I won't just drop it. We are more than just partners, Buffy. And I don't want to lose you no matter how you feel about me." He dropped his hand off of her shoulder and took a deep breath.

"Dammit!" Buffy dropped her gaze, taking a step back and away from him. "You know as well as I do that I can't work with a couple of uniforms tailing me. But I can't fight you. There has to be a way to compromise."

"Yeah, there is. I'll call and tell him what's going on, then whatever the decision is, he's made it, not you or me." Riley scowled down at her, trying to intimidate her.

"Can we talk about this later?" Buffy nodded towards the gathering press people that were huddling against the yellow saw horses used to blockade the hill and keep them back. "We don't need to have headlines screaming about lover's spats in the newspapers."

"I wish," he said under his breath. "Fine, but we will discuss it later and you aren't leaving my sight."

"Fine," she shrugged. Let him bitch and browbeat, she wasn't doing anything she didn't want to no matter who threw the fits. "Let's try something new for today and actually work the case."

They searched the area surrounding the perimeter and found nothing. Even the grass didn't seem disturbed anywhere but around the body where the blood had soaked into the ground. The crime scene unit finally arrived taking over from where they'd stopped.

Buffy stopped a uniformed cop who was walking back to where his car was parked. She smiled when she saw his face, it was the same cop who'd called her a bitch the last time she'd ran into him. "Take a couple more units and start doing some dumpster diving," she ordered him, not hiding the glee in her voice at ordering him around. "We're looking for clothing, a purse and possibly an ear. Check out about five blocks..."

"Six," Riley interrupted. "Make it at least six blocks from here."

"Okay," she said, staring up at him with a frown. "Check out a six block radius, all dumpsters, trash cans, alleys. Every fast food restaurant, I want inside trash checked as well. Oh and don't forget to look for her shoes, too, Officer."

"Is that all?" he asked, his voice belligerent.

"No, as a matter of fact, it isn't." Buffy stepped forward only stepping back when Riley's hand came down on her shoulder.

"Get out of here and do as you're ordered, Officer. Or else I will let her loose on you."

As soon as he stomped away, she turned to Riley. "Don't you ever do that again," she snarled.

"Taking it out on him isn't going to do you any good, Buf. We both know you're frustrated and pissed off." He smiled staring down at the cantankerous look on her face. "Did you know you're beautiful when you want to cut off someone's balls?"

"Then if you ever do that again, I'll be downright glowing." She stomped away, leaving him standing there staring after her.

"Oz!" she called, seeing the investigator on his knees next to the body, picking up something with his tweezers.

He looked up at her call and waved one bloodstained gloved hand in her direction. "Your ten card is in my pocket, Buffy. Let me finish here and I'll get it out for you." He wasn't even going to argue with her this time about it. He opened up a small brown bindle envelope, dropping what he'd found into it and folding it to stuff in a pocket of the vest he wore.

"What'd you find?" she asked, curious.

"Shards of glass, probably from off our unsub's shoes. Looks like colored glass, but I'll have to get it to the lab before I can tell you anything for sure." He reached in his pocket and pulled out the thick white card, carefully holding it between the tips of his fingers.

Buffy took it from him, tucking it into her own pocket. She'd put them into the computer as soon as they left here. "Find anything else?" she asked, watching as he combed the ground next to the body, before carefully flipping up an edge of the sheet. He pulled small paper bags out of his case and a couple of heavy duty rubber bands and picked up the body's hand in his own.

"Nothing probative, but we're still looking. I want to get her hands bagged so when he coroner's guys get here they can take her right away. I'm going to tag her special processes and go over the body myself at the morgue."

"Good, not that Giles doesn't do a superior job, but I'd rather have you checking this one out."

"Um, Buf, have you looked at her yet?" Oz glanced up from where he was slipping the paper bag over one of the body's hands. His eyes were curious but she could also see worry there, and that tempered the snide remark that almost came from her lips.

"Yes, I've seen her, yes."

"And the one yesterday, you saw her too?"

"Yes, Oz, this our third body in similar circs. And they all look like me." She felt a shiver run through her, hating having to admit to this.

"I know this is a stupid thing to say but I have to say it. Be careful. I kind of like working with you."

Buffy smiled. "Thanks, Oz. And the feeling's returned. Not many of you investigators will allow me to step all over your cases. And I appreciate it. Now, take care of our Jane Doe, I'm going to go run these prints."

He waved her off, lifting the other hand to bag.

Buffy had one more stop to make before she walked out of the park.

Detective Gavin Park, who used to be a homicide detective and became burned out with the long hours and the hectic life. Instead of losing everything, his family included, he took a step back and went to school for photography, becoming the department crime photographer. He came toward her now, lugging his cameras and photo bags. "Hey," he said, setting down his stuff at his feet. "What you got for me?"

"Another murder, Gav. He's not waiting long between kills at all, so I need your help. Can you get your shots to me ASAP? And get me some shots of the crowd; I need everything you can get. Detailed ones of the body, also, Gav, please." She turned and stared at the sheet covered body, noting that Oz was off to the side, once more bent over poking through the grass.

"Sure thing," he smiled at her and lifted his camera, pulling off the lens cap and taking a quick shot of her. "You know, if I could get you to model for me, I could quit this gig and go into more professional photography. You are much prettier than my usual subjects." He gave her a hangdog look, begging with his eyes.

"You are a dirty man, Gavin Park. You'd want me to pose naked and we know your wife wouldn't go along with that." She reached up and patted him on the cheek, smiling like she knew he wanted her to.

She looked around, seeing Riley talking to a couple of officers, looking over his shoulder at her as they walked away. He smiled and she smiled back. They'd been friends a long time and she knew that he cared about her. And she cared about him, too.

"You ready to get to the station, I need to put these prints into AFIS and see if we get any hits." She stopped and looked up at him, seeing the question in his eyes. "Yeah, I understand how you feel. It just doesn't mean that I'm going to go along with it. And no, I don't want a team on me. Right now, we'll just go with you being my personal body guard while I'm at work, okay?"

"And when you aren't at work? What then?"

She sighed. "You just don't know when to stop, do you?" She turned, ready to tackle the hill and head back up to her car.

"Where you going?" he asked, grabbing her arm.

She looked at the big hand that held her arm and then followed it up, allowing her glare to get darker. With the slightly yellow cast to her face from the bruises that were still healing from being hit by Adam Walsh, her glare had extra impact. He dropped his hand, but didn't back down.

"If I'm your body guard, then you need to tell me where you're going. So?"

Buffy sighed. "My car is up there and I'm not leaving it on the street. You can follow me to the station if you want."

"My car is over there in the lot," he said, jerking his thumb back towards the main entrance to the park.

"Then I guess you'd better run," she said and started up the hill.

The press attacked her as soon as she reached the top. She pushed through them as if they weren't there, ignoring their questions, stalking past the recorders and the cameras as they flashed in her face. She walked past the cops on traffic duty, waving at one that she knew before heading down the alley where she'd left her Mustang.

The dark of the alley seemed sinister and strangely silent at this time of the night. Traffic was at a minimum, only those out heading home from bars or a late second shift were about. Or those that were looking for trouble. She could almost feel eyes on her and quickened her step, making sure that her badge was easily seen, hooked to her belt.

The hand that grabbed at her arm was huge and brawny, the knuckles bruised and knotted as if recently in a brawl. She twisted, her hands going to his wrist, her body pushing back against his to use his weight against him.

"Ouch! Buffy, dammit, why'd you go and do that for?"

Buffy pushed her 9 back into its holster. "Groo," she breathed, feeling as if the air could finally release from her lungs. "What are you doing here?"

"Riley knew I was around watching you guys work on the dead body and he called me. He asked me to make sure you made it to your car okay." He took the hand that she gave him and let her help him up.

"Next time say something before you grab me. I could have hurt you badly." She dusted off the back of his shirt with her hands.

"You're too little to hurt me much." He took her arm walking with her towards her car, crowding her a little.

"You need a ride anywhere?" she asked him, standing by her car, her keys out.

"Nope, just doing what Riley asked me to do," he said, standing there while she unlocked her car and got in.

Buffy waved and started the car, not breathing easy until she pulled out of the alley and left him behind. She had to laugh at herself.

Buffy beat Riley to the station, pulling into the underground parking and taking the stairs to the second floor. Turning on the lights in the small computer lab, she walked up to one of the stations and turned it on, pulling out the ten card and laying it in the scanner.

It took but seconds for the prints to be scanned into the computer, labeled with the case number and the date and then put into the Automated Fingerprint Information System or AFIS. It ran through the hundreds of thousands of prints in the database, comparing them to the ones that she'd put in. Hits could take seconds or hours, there was never a set time limit. So while she waited, Buffy got up and went into the homicide bullpen, dumping the sludge in the bottom of the coffee pot and cleaning it out. She made fresh coffee, smiling as the scent of rich black caffeine filled the room. With a hot mug in her hand, she grabbed the case file from her desk and headed back to the computer.

She sat at the long table in the lab, the file and photos spread out, her coffee at her elbow as she worked.

Riley found her there, a small magnifying glass in her hand as she stared at the photos of the body of Cassie Newton. He could see the computer working behind her, fingerprints flashing over the screen. "Hey," he said by way of greeting.

She looked up and smiled, waving him over. "Does this look strange to you?" she asked him, showing him the picture of the body.

"Strange how?" He took the picture and the glass, staring through it.

"Look at the way the body is, her hands and feet just so. Does that look posed to you?"

He took another look at the picture, noting the position of the extremities. "Yeah, she does. What about it?"

"The second victim was sprawled in the grass, her body half in the water. Her clothes were ripped off of her and strewn around the primary site, even her earrings, which were diamonds by the way, were torn from her ears and dropped to the ground. But did we find Cassie's clothes that she was wearing. And the body this morning," she paused to take a sip of her coffee. "Where are her clothes, her purse? I think he was interrupted. I think someone came along and spooked him and that's why the second body was just dumped and her things just left where they were dropped."

"So we need to find that person," he said, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah, we need to find them." The computer beeped, indicating a match was found and Buffy turned, pushing the wheeled stool towards it. "We got a match on Victim three's prints. Darla Holtz." Buffy wrote down the address for her and hit the print key. Taking the ten card and the three copies she'd printed of the match on the fingerprints, she put them inside her file. Stacking all the photos up of the crime scene, she cleaned up her mess, and shut down the computer. "Come on, we need to get over there," she said.

"Yeah, and then we need to get some pictures of Victim two out and see if anyone saw her the night she was killed."

They headed toward the garage stopping only when being hailed by the chief. "DonFinn, Summers, in my office, now."

Buffy looked at Riley from under her eyelashes and turned, dropping her coffee cup on a table as she passed it. Walking into the Chief's office, she stood in front of his desk, not taking a chair and not having one offered to her. Riley stood next to her, staring down at the Chief.

"What's going on with this case?"

"We've got three victims sir, the third was just identified by her prints. That's where we were heading sir, to let the next of kin know. The first victim was baited to come to the warehouse where her body was found."

Riley continued, "We believe he may have been interrupted during the second murder sir. The other two crime scenes, the bodies were staged, the area mostly cleaned up. In the second, she was more thrown than posed, her clothing and personal items tossed haphazardly." Riley sighed. "He fucked up, sir. And if we can find out who interrupted, we may have a witness and get a break. We're going to be canvassing the park with pictures of the second victim. She hasn't been identified yet."

"It was brought to my notice that some of these victims are sharing some resemblences to you, Summers. Should I be worried?"

"No, sir. I'm capable of taking care of myself, and I'd like to be bait. We know he likes the park, we could set up a sting using me and lure him in."

"Remember what happened the last time you were bait? We almost lost you to the killer."

"And an SUV," Riley said under his breath earning himself an evil glare from his partner.

"If we need to use you, we will. But only as a last resort. Now get out of here and do your jobs."

They turned and left, Buffy waiting until the door closed behind them before smacking Riley in the arm. "One of these days, Justin, that mouth of yours is going to get you shot, and I'm going to be the one pulling the damn trigger."

"Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. You need to sing a new tune." He laughed, pulling a chunky wisp of her hair.

They jogged down the stairs to the garage, and Buffy slid into the passenger seat of Riley's car, reaching into her briefcase for the file she'd stuffed in there. She gave him the address and sat back while he drove in the light early morning traffic. Using the lights of the street lamps, she stared at the pictures they had of the two victims. It was eerie seeing their faces. A shudder shook her small frame and Buffy mentally regrouped, refusing to let this spook her to the point that she would be unable to do her job. Maybe they didn't look like her, maybe they looked like someone else, and she was just lucky enough to be among that number. She sighed.

Riley reached over and patted her hand, slowing to turn down into the ritzier section of town.

Here the houses were bigger, the lawns greener. Picket fences surrounded two story houses landscaped with roses and huge trees. No dogs barked or graffiti marred the area.

Riley pulled into a beautiful two story Tudor house. It was a far cry from where Cassie Newton had lived. He turned off the engine and waited for Buffy to slip the file back into her briefcase before walking up the steps toward the huge front door. A motion light flipped on, startling them both for a moment and then Riley leaned forward and hit the doorbell.

It pealed through the house, sounding too cheerful and chipper for so late at night. They waited and finally heard the front door being unlocked. Buffy flipped open her badge, holding it up to the man who answered the door. He was older, gray hair sticking up above his head from his pillow.

"Mr. Holtz?" Riley asked quietly.

"Yes," the man said, looking at their badges and then back up at their faces in surprised dismay. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Do you know a Darla Holtz, sir?"

"She's my daughter. Why? What's wrong? She's okay isn't she?"

Riley stepped forward. "May we come in and talk to you sir?"

"Danny?" A woman's voice came from the stairs. "Is everything okay?"

Daniel Holtz stepped back from the door, holding it open so that they could come in. He ushered them into a plush living room done in shades of taupe and cream with big overstuffed furniture. A woman came in in a fluffy bathrobe. Her hand sought her husband's as she looked at the two detectives with scared eyes.

"It's about Darla, isn't it? She hasn't come home yet."

"Mrs. Holtz, I'm Detective Riley Finn and this is my partner Detective Buffy Summers. We have some bad news for you. Your daughter was found in the park tonight. I'm afraid she was dead."

Both parents looked stunned, Mrs. Holtz shaking her head in denial. And then they crumpled, Mr. Holtz holding onto his wife as she started to fall towards the floor. JRiley hurried over, taking her arm and leading her around to the sofa where he helped her to sit down.

"I'm so very sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Holtz" He took the glass that Buffy offered him, a glass that she'd found in the kitchen and filled with water.

"What happened? Was it an accident?"

"No, it wasn't, Dan and you know it. You saw those girls' pictures in the paper; you know what I told Darla. She had similar traits like them. It was that killer, wasn't it?" She sobbed and Buffy reached for a box of tissues that was sitting on a stand.

"We aren't sure yet, Mrs. Holtz." Buffy handed her a tissue and then sat down next to her, patting her hand gently. "Do you think you can answer a few questions? We know it's a terrible time, but if we could get some more information, it could help in our investigation."

"You ask," Daniel said, blowing his nose in a red bandana handkerchief, "we'll do our best to answer."

"Did your daughter say anything about maybe being followed or feeling uncomfortable the past couple of days?" Buffy picked up the other woman's hand.

"No, no, not that I can recall." She wiped her eyes and looked at Buffy. "You look so much like her," she said.

Buffy ducked her head a little uncomfortable with their eyes on her, especially if this was all her fault.

"Where was Darla headed tonight?" Riley asked, seeing his partner's unease.

"There was a party over in the apartments across from Big Lots. She has a lot of friends over there."

"Those apartments are on this side of the park," Buffy said. "What would she be doing in the park?"

The couple just shook their heads.

Buffy looked up, hearing Riley's phone. He stepped away from the couple and spoke in the phone.

"Can we see her?" Daniel suddenly asked Jenna. "Maybe you have the wrong girl. We should see her to make sure."

"Sir, we identified her using fingerprints. I'm sorry, but it is your daughter. She's being taken to the morgue but we'll make arrangement for you and your wife to see her in the morning." Buffy removed one of her cards from her wallet and left it sitting on their coffee table. "If you can think of anything, anything at all that might seem strange or out of whack for your girl, call me. If you call first thing in the morning, I will make sure to get a hold of Rupert Giles, our coroner, and he'll help you."

Mrs. Holtz nodded, her face buried.

Riley stood and they headed toward the door, showing themselves out as the parents of the murdered girl consoled each other.

"God, I hate doing that," Jhe said, shutting the door quietly behind them. "It never gets any easier."

Buffy patted him on the arm. "So what was the call," she asked.

"They found Darla's clothing and her purse. They're bringing them back into the station." He opened her car door for her and hurried around to his side, sliding behind the steering wheel. "Worth said they found something pretty interesting along with the clothing."

"Did he say what?" she felt her curiosity peaking.

"No, but they should be there by the time we get back."

He sped through the night, leaving a heartbroken couple behind.

Buffy was out of his car and jogging up the stairs of the station before he even put the car into park. He followed her, laughing at her exuberance for a case.

The uniform who Buffy had been on was sitting in the homicide bull pen, a cup of coffee in his hands, his feet up on Riley's desk. When Buffy walked into the room, he looked up at her and took a sip of his coffee. She walked by the desk, knocking his feet off and making him spill his coffee onto the front of his uniform. He snarled at her, jumping up to get into her face. "What's your problem?"

She smiled sweetly. "I have no problems, Mears," she said, reading his name from his uniform. "And if you don't get out of my face, you won't have any either."

"Is that some kind of threat?" He slammed the mug of coffee down on the desk, spilling it. "You've been on my case since that first night."

"I wouldn't be on your case if you'd do your damn job. Now get out of here and go do it."

He stared down at her, hatred in his eyes. His flickered, glancing up and behind her and then he stepped back and brushed past her, knocking into her shoulder.

Buffy turned and saw JRiley behind her, his eyes boring into the back of Warren Mears's head. There was a strange expression in those eyes, something that made her shiver a little before he turned and saw her staring. "Asshole," he said. "You wanna write him up or do you want me to?"

"Neither," she said. "Let's just work the case and let his commander worry about him." She turned toward the paper bag left on the top of Riley's desk. Pulling out a couple latex gloves from her coat pocket, she slipped them on and unfolded the bag.

"The jerk didn't even follow procedure," Riley grouched, staring at the bag. "He should have had a crime scene tech collect the evidence."

"Yeah, yeah, well, it's his fault. I want to see what he found." She pulled out a short sleeved green tee shirt that was ripped down the front. Blood stained one side of the rip as if he'd cut her in removing it. Under that was a short blue jean skirt. Two shoes were under that, one with the heel broken off, reminding JBuffy of the red pumps their second vic had been wearing. She set them down on Justin's desk, reaching in to pull out a bra. It was light green, lace, the front cut between the two cups. Blood stained the inside of one, and Buffy couldn't help the shudder, remembering her dream and the feel of the killer's mouth against her breast, lapping at her blood. She felt her heart beating faster, hating that a dream could still affect her the way this one was.

"What's that?" Riley asked, pointing with his pen at something hooked to the lace of the bra.

"I don't know," she said, turning the material in her hands until she could unhook the card caught in the fabric. "It's some kind of badge. We might have gotten lucky here." She flipped it over, staring at the picture on the front.

Riley heard her gasp and then saw her face go deathly pale. She dropped the card on the desk, shaking her head in denial as she backed away from it. Clasping her hands over her mouth, she turned and ran from the room. "Buffy? What's wrong?" he called, but she was gone. He turned back to the desk and the card that sat upon it. It was a work badge, a designated slot card for their hospital. There was a picture and some information on the card as well as a name. Riley looked at the picture, glancing at the name and then frowned. "Dr. Angel McKenna," he snarled. "I'll be damned."