Chapter Twelve:
Buffy felt the shudders wrack her body as it emptied itself of the coffee she'd drank tonight. She couldn't get over the sight of his face on that card tangled in the material of the victim's bra. She flushed the toilet, then sank down next to it, letting her head lean back against the tiled wall. Tears threatened, but she fought them back. She kept hearing his voice when he'd told her he thought he was falling for her.
He was falling for her ... and then running out and killing girls that looked like her. Her head fell forward, hitting her knees that she had drawn up against her body. She was shaking and she hated it.
"Here," Riley said, holding out a wet paper towel to her. She looked up at him, and he felt his heart break at the haunted look in her eyes. "Oh, Buffy. I'm sorry." He held out his arms and she went in to them. He could feel the shudders course through her petite frame as he smoothed his hands down over her back.
Buffy forced herself to move away from him after holding on to him for only a few moments. She took the paper towel he still held and used it to wipe off her face, then went over to the sink to splash some cold water on her burning cheeks.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," she laughed cynically. "I have to be okay, don't I? I don't have much of a choice."
"Well, you could come back here and let me hold you again for a while." He touched her still wet face with gentle fingers. "I may not like the man, mostly because of jealousy, but I never would have wanted this."
"We have to bring him in," she said. She closed her eyes, again seeing the image of Angel lying against her sheets, his chest bare, his hair tousled from her hands. His brown eyes had been half closed, his fingers stroking down her arm as he told her to hurry back to him. He wanted to hold her as he slept, he'd said.
She had slept with him. She couldn't get the thought out of her head. She had slept with a killer. No, she hadn't slept with him. They hadn't had much of a chance to sleep. She'd fucked a killer and had enjoyed every moment of it.
"Yeah," Riley said, running his hand through her hair. "We have to bring him in. But you won't be there. I'll get someone else up and I will go do it with them. Do you have McKenna's address?"
"He's not at his place, Riley." She dropped her head down and felt him move forward until she was leaning her forehead up against his chest.
"He's at the hospital then?" he questioned, running his hands up and down her arms.
"No." She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "He's at my apartment."
He stared back down at her, his hands dropping from her arms. "You're off the case."
"No, God dammit, Riley..."
She shut up when he held his hand up in front of her face. "You slept with him, Buffy. You can't be on this case any longer, not if he's our prime suspect. Don't argue with me."
She cringed at the tone in his voice. It was cold and hard. She'd never heard him talk like that, not to her. He backed away from her, staring at her as if she was someone he didn't know. And it hurt her. It hurt badly. "There might be another explanation, Riley, did you think of that?" She knew she was reaching but she had to believe that she wouldn't have gone to bed with a murderer.
"Sure there is, Buffy. Somehow his hospital badge got into the same dumpster with our victim's clothing. It ended up getting tangled up in her bra, the inside of her bra at that. Of course, I can come up with any number of plausible explanations for that."
At that moment she hated him, hated him with every fiber of her being, and at the same time knew that he was right.
"I'm going to go bring him in. I'm going to ask you to step back and away, Buffy. I don't want to go to the chief with this."
"I'll step back, Ri but I'm going to be in the viewing room while you're doing the interview ... whether you like it or not." She reached into the pocket of the jacket she was still wearing and pulled out her keys, slipping her apartment key off the ring and handing it to him without being asked.
"Don't call him," he warned as he turned and left the women's bathroom.
"Asshole," she snarled as the door closed behind him. As if she would do something that would sabotage a case, especially a case where women were dying. She splashed more water on her face and then dried it off, going to wait at her desk while she went back over the files, searching them with a fine tooth comb, needing to come up with something that would prove that Angel hadn't done it.
Angel woke to a pounding at the door. It was barely morning, and the light coming in through the window was weak yet. He got up, grabbing his pants and pulling them on quickly as the door was slammed open. He heard feet rushing toward the bedroom and stepped back, confused. Police burst through the door, grabbing his arm and forcing him face down on the floor. "Angel McKenna?"
It was a familiar voice, and he looked up, seeing Riley Finn standing there. "You know who I am," he said. "You want to explain what this is about? Where's Buffy?"
"You are being taken in for questioning, Dr. As to where Buffy is, well, that's none of your concern." Riley felt a dark thrill, seeing the man who seemed to have such a strong hold on Buffy's interest on the floor in cuffs. It was wrong, the way it felt. But he couldn't help but revel in the feeling. Buffy could have been his, should have been his, and not this doctor's.
"What am I being questioned about?"
"You'll find out more at the station. Until that time, I am going to Mirandize you." Riley ran through the standard Miranda rights, emphasizing his right to silence as Angel almost seemed to snarl at him. He picked up the man's shirt, now wrinkled from falling on the floor, and draped it over Angel's shoulders as he was lifted to his feet and led out of the apartment.
A police car sat in the street outside the building and Angel was pushed into the back seat with a little more force than necessary.
The trip to the station was done in silence. He saw Riley's car pull into the underground parking garage behind them and then the man was there when the police car stopped and the door opened. Riley reached in, grabbing Angel's arm and pulling him from the cruiser. Angel was taken the back way into the building and then ensconced in one of the small, dingy interview rooms, with a uniformed officer as a guard.
Riley unlocked his cuffs. "Can I get you some coffee, doctor?" he asked sarcastically.
"You can tell me what this is all about."
"Not yet, sir," Riley said, stretching the respectfulness until it was disrespectful. He went to the door of the interview room, turning once to glance over his shoulder. "It's hard for me to believe you aren't the man I thought you were when we met in the hospital. I used to be such a good judge of character but this job can screw with you so much." He shook his head sadly before going through the door and locking it from the outside.
Buffy was sitting at her desk when he came back in the bullpen. The file was open, the pictures spread out, including the new ones that Park had just delivered himself. He watched her for a moment as she stared at the pictures, brushing her hair out of her eyes every once in a while. With a sigh, and a desperate need for coffee, he turned and went to where a new pot was brewing, blessing the powers that be for hot fresh caffeine.
"Did you get him?"
"Yeah, he was still in your apartment." He couldn't help the slight hurt that managed to infuse that sentence. He was hurt, even though it wasn't her fault. And he knew he had no right to be. She was his partner, not his wife or his lover. He looked around the bullpen, seeing nothing but empty chairs. They were alone.
With a sigh, he put his coffee on her desk and crouched down next to her, pulling her chair out slightly so he could look into her face. "Are you okay?" he asked, letting his hands run up and down her arms. He'd been mad, and he wouldn't hide it. But she looked so vulnerable sitting there, faint vestiges of her tears still apparent if you knew what to look for.
"I'll be better when we get this whole mess straightened out and I can get back on this case. He didn't do this, he couldn't have. It's so against what he believes in, so against his nature. I mean, think about it, when he hit Adam Walsh, he'd seemed sort of shell shocked afterwards, as if the violence was abhorrent to him. How could he go out and slice and dice three girls like this when one punch had upset him so much?"
Riley's head dropped until his forehead was against her knee. He sighed heavily. "I hope if I ever get into any trouble, you're around to bail me out with as much loyalty as you're showing him." He raised his head, staring into her troubled green eyes. "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, but I just can't figure out any other way that his hospital badge got tangled up in Darla Holtz's bra."
"I've been thinking about that and I have an idea. You said you think this killer is fixated on me. He's killing women that look sort of like me, right?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "So, if he is fixated, then he must know that I'm dating Angel. So he sneaks into the hospital and takes the badge and then leaves it with the clothing, knowing that we'll find it."
He stared down at her in disbelief. "Do you really think he'd go that far? I mean, the chances of being caught are pretty high."
"So are the chances of being caught while raping and killing someone, but he takes those chances. If he is truly fixated upon me, then that is one scenario. I can probably think of others if I have a chance."
Riley stood, putting his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "I need the file. And the hospital badge. The chief is going to do the interview with me. He's given you permission to watch but you can't interrupt. He wants your word on that."
"He has it." She quickly stacked the photos and slid them into their manila envelopes.
"Chief?" Riley called.
He looked up from the huge piles of papers that were covering his desk. "Any problems?" he asked, standing up and pulling his jacket off the back of his chair. He slipped it on and then picked up his own cooling cup of coffee.
"No, he came pretty easily. He's been Mirandized and left to stew."
"Well, let's not let him stew so long that he starts yelling for an attorney. I'd like to get a confession out of him before the sharks can circle."
"Chief, Buffy came up with another theory that might hold some value."
"Well, tell me now before we get in there." He stopped, turning to face Riley. "But remember, if she's been dating this guy she's got an emotional stake in this." He crossed his arms over his chest.
Riley nodded and explained the idea, adding his own two cents. "It might be something worth a thought sir ... if the killer is really fixated on her, he's going to also fixate on anyone who she's involved with."
"Well, let's hope that isn't the case here. I've got the public on my back and an FBI profiler on his way. He'll be here tomorrow to do a complete profile on our killer and to help with anything he can."
"What?" Riley's mouth dropped open. "Hold it, Chief. You called the FBI in on this? You know what'll happen, we'll do all the work and they'll get the glory." He felt rage building and struggled to push it back down.
"So let's go in there and get a confession and I can call and have them turn the plane around."
They met up with Buffy, who was standing outside the viewing room. She was pale but composed, unwilling to show any emotion.
"Are you sure you want to put yourself through this? It's not neces..."
"It is for me. I have to know if he's lying, Chief. I have to." A shuddering sigh came from deep inside of her and she looked from one man to the other. "I can't think that my judgment is so bad that I wouldn't know if something was wrong. He got to my place last night at just a little past seven p.m. If he had committed Darla's murder, he'd have had to move pretty fast from the time he left the hospital to when he arrived at my apartment.
"Your apartment is where?"
"The other side of the park, chief. I'm not saying it's not possible, I'm saying it's highly unlikely. We won't know for sure until the prelims come from the coroner, giving us time of death."
"Okay," he said, staring through the darkened glass and into the interrogation room where Angel waited. "Let's get this started, and as soon as you get the prelims, you get them to us. But under no condition are you to walk into that room, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," she said, turning toward the viewing room and dreading what she was going to see. She walked through the door, her eyes immediately going to the huge two way mirror that took up most of the space on the one wall. Flipping on the switches that would start the video recording devices working, she hit the intercom switch on the wall, so she could hear what was being said.
Then she looked at Angel.
They'd taken off the cuffs and he'd slid his shirt onto his shoulders, buttoning it halfway. His chest could be seen through the material, a chest she'd kissed and caressed with such pleasure and passion not four hours before. His head was down in his hands, and as she watched, he glanced up, looking not at the door but at the mirror.
It was as if he could see her, his eyes boring into the spot where she was rooted to the floor. She could see exhaustion in that gaze, and unease. Frustration seemed to spill from his pores. But mostly what she saw was the hurt.
She felt behind her for the table and chairs that she knew were there and sat, her eyes never leaving his until his head swiveled and he stood up.
"Sit down, Dr. McKenna," she heard Riley's voice say before she actually saw him.
Angel sat. "What's going on here, Detective?" he asked, his voice just barely tinged with annoyance.
Riley sat down, his back to Buffy. In his hand he held the file folder full of everything they had on the three murders. He placed it on the table but kept his hands over the top of it. The chief took a chair and pulled it away from the table, separating himself but staying close.
Riley sat there for a moment, not saying anything, just staring at Angel. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he spoke. "Where's your hospital name badge, Dr. McKenna?"
"What?" Angel seemed confused for a moment. "My name badge? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Just answer the question, Doctor." Riley sat forward in his chair.
"I noticed it was missing when I left work yesterday. It was clipped to my lab coat but when I went to leave, it was gone." He stared form one of the men to the other, trying to guess what was in their heads.
"Did you report it missing to anyone? Head of security? Your supervisor down in the Emergency Room? Anyone?" Riley asked, his head tipped, his tone mild.
"No, I told you, I noticed it when I was leaving. I had an appointment after I got out of work and wanted to go home. I was planning on doing that when I came into work today if no one had turned it in."
"That's not really responsible, Doctor, is it? I mean, isn't that how you get around the hospital? Don't you have to use it to get into employee parking?"
"Doctors have special parking, closer to the hospital than the employee parking. I use though spaces. But yes, it is how I get around. And as I said, I was planning on stopping at security today when I went in to see if anyone found it, and to request a new one if not. I'm not the first one to misplace a badge, Detective. Is this all you want, to ask me about a lost hospital badge?" He pushed up from the chair. "If that's all you want to talk about, then I'm out of here."
"Sit down, Doctor. I'm not through with you yet," Riley said, his voice calm and toneless. He waited until the doctor sat before shuffling through some papers in his file, reading and then looking back at the man who sat across from him in the dingy room. "What time did you get off work yesterday?"
"I signed out at 5:10."
"And then what did you do, Doctor?" Riley sat forward in his chair more, lifting himself up jut a little.
"I had an appointment." Angel sat forward also, lifting in the chair.
"With?" Rileyasked, his voice hard as he stood and leaned against the desk.
"A friend," Angel snarled, standing also, his face about a foot from Riley's.
"What friend?" Riley asked.
"That is none of your business," Angel said, his teeth grinding.
"You'd better make it my business, Doctor." Riley growled, slamming his hand down on the table in front of him.
"That's enough!" Chief Rayne stood, slamming his own fist on the table. "Doctor McKenna, sit down please. Detective, I'd like to speak to you outside."
Riley picked up his file and took a deep breath, walking out of the room, Ethan following him.
Buffy watched Angel as he sat alone in the room. His eyes were wild, the warm chocolate color turned cold and dark. He pushed his hand through his hair and took a deep breath letting it out slowly. Then he got up and walked around the room, pacing back and forth before finally walking towards the mirror. He stood, his hand against the glass. She stared at him for a moment, her mind a whirl. She couldn't be wrong about him, could she? How could the man who'd made love to her so wonderfully be the same man who'd raped and beaten those women so horribly? He couldn't. She couldn't, no, she wouldn't believe that he would do that. With a sigh she stood and leaned against the window, letting her hand rest against the glass where his was. She knew he couldn't see her, or feel her skin, but she hoped he knew she was here. "I believe in you, Angel," she whispered.
The door to the interrogation room opened once more and he turned, staring at the two men who walked back in.
"Please sit down, Doctor," Riley said, his voice once more calm. "Let's try this again, please." Riley sat in the chair he'd been in before, but he pulled it back just a little. "This would go better for you if you'd cooperate with us."
"If you'll explain why I'm here, I might be more obliged to cooperate." ANgel shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression stony.
"You said you lost your badge at work, am I right?"
"That's what I said because that's what happened. I had a long day; a lot of accidents and one attempted suicide that was touch and go for a few hours. It could have fallen off my lapel or been pulled off. I don't know where it went." He shrugged his wide shoulders.
"And where did you go after work?"
"I had an appointment, just as I said before. What is this all about?"
Riley reached into his file, pulling out three crime scene photos that showed each of the victims' faces. Their eyes were wide open and staring, horrified. He laid them out on the table between them one at a time. "Do you know any of these women, Doctor?" he asked, pushing them towards Angel.
Angel swallowed and closed his eyes for an instant before opening them and staring at the pictures, one at a time. "No," he said finally, pushing them back toward Riley. "I've never seen any of those women. Who are they?"
Riley tapped the first photo. "This is Cassandra Newton, she just turned 18. She was found murdered just three days ago." He tapped the second photo. "Jane Doe, we haven't been able to identify her yet. She was found murdered just two nights ago. And this last one. This is Darla Holtz, her body was found in the park last night. Raped, tortured and sliced up, all three of them."
Angel looked up, staring at Riley for a moment. "This is the case that you and Buffyare working on, the case she had to leave to go to last night. And she's not in here with you," he said slowly. "She's not in here with you because you think that I killed these women."
"Where were you yesterday after you got off of work at the hospital, Doctor?" Riley asked again, refusing to give credit to his musings. "Where did you go from the time you were off of work until the time you showed up at Buffy's apartment?"
"The only thing I don't know is what evidence you could possibly have that puts me at the scenes of the crimes." Angel said as if he hadn't heard the questions. He turned and stared at the chief. "My hospital badge, someone swiped it and planted it at the scene, didn't they? Where was it, under the body?"
"Doctor, where did you go tonight after you got out of work?" Riley asked again, standing slightly and coming between the other man and him, bringing him back into the center of Angel's attention.
"I got gas, went home and took a shower and then went to my appointment. Where's Buffy? I want to see her." Angel turned and looked at the glass. "Is she behind there? Is she?" he asked turning to look at Riley.
"Buffy doesn't want to see you," Riley said with great relish. "She's been taken off this case for the time being. You're dealing with me now."
Ethan cleared his throat and Riley sat back a little in his chair. "Now, tell me again, when did you notice that your badge was missing?" he asked, leaving the crime scene pictures lying on the table.
Buffy watched as Riley took him through his story over and over again, trying to break any part of it. And with every mention of her name, she got madder and madder. He was deliberately rubbing her in to ANgel's face, deliberately flaunting the fact that she'd been replaced. It was all she could do not to run into that room and slam her fist into Jher partner's face.
"Your hospital badge was found tangled in the victim's clothes, Doctor! You want me to believe that someone sneaked into the hospital, found you in the warren of corridors there, and swiped your badge off your chest while you weren't looking, just to plant it in those clothes to implicate you?" He laughed. "That's pretty far fetched. I think you can come up with a better excuse. We've fingerprinted the badge. There's only one set of prints on it, and that, I'm sure, will belong to you. So let's try this again, where did you go last night after you left work?"
Finally, Angel had had enough. He turned to Chief Rayne. "Am I under arrest?"
"No," Ethan answered slowly. "Not yet. We are still checking out facts."
"Then I'm out of here." Angel stood, pushing back his chair so hard it fell over. He walked to the door of the interrogation room and opened it, feeling their eyes on his back. And all the time he waited for one of them to stop him. When that didn't happen, he walked out of the building.
Buffy was waiting for Rileywhen he came out of the interrogation room. "May I speak to you for a minute?" she asked, her voice low.
"Go home, Buf," he said. "You can't work this case now, Chief is replacing you here. You might as well go home and get some sleep, come back later in the day and put some time in on the other cases we got pending." He watched Ethan's back as the man walked away, leaving them alone in the hallway which were scarcely inhabited at this time of the early morning.
Buffywatched him also, waiting until he turned the corner as he headed back toward his office. Then she plowed her fist into Riley's belly, hearing his oof of pain as the air was driven from his lungs. "Don't you ever use me like that again, Riley Finn, ever. You purposefully rubbed me into his face." She turned and started to walk away when she felt his hand on her arm, grabbing hard and dragging her into the viewing room she'd just walked out of. Pushing her against the wall, he dropped the file onto the table and turned to face her.
"I will do what I have to, when I have to do it, Summers. Not you or anyone else will tell me differently." He felt rage burning in his gut, boiling almost out of control. "I'm not the one out there fucking around with a killer. Was he any good? Tell me, does he kiss better than me? I mean, just yesterday you were all over me. What, wasn't I good enough for you? Does a man have to kill to get your attention?"
"You're a sorry bastard, Riley," Buffy said, contempt in her voice. She turned to leave, only to find herself slammed back against the wall, his hand around her throat.
"Don't ever call me that, ever," he snarled into her face.
Buffy felt her breath cut off and her hands went to his wrist, tugging at it. "Let me go," she gasped. "Riley, let me go."
It was like watching him wake up. He seemed shocked to see his hand at her throat, the skin welting around his grasping fingers. With an oath, he stepped back, seeing the fingerprints on her throat.
"You make me so fucking crazy, Buffy. You drive me nuts. Some days I want to love you forever and then others..." he let the sentence hang as he ran his now shaking hands through his thick blonde hair. "He's a killer," he said, turning and taking her arms, his hands gentle with her now. "He's got the blood of three innocent girls on his hands. At least, there are three that we know of right now. And you still want him, don't you?"
Buffy gently rubbed the bruises that were quickly forming on her throat. For the first time she could remember, in all the time she had known Riley, she was afraid of him. That fear must have shone in her eyes because he tried to draw her close, to hug her to him, stopping only when she shied away from him, knocking his hands off her arms. "Don't you fucking touch me," she said, her voice hoarse. She turned quickly, her hand finding the door knob and twisting at it before feeling it give.
Then she was walking quickly down toward the bullpen, grabbing her stuff and hurrying towards the stairs. She didn't want to see him again, not right now, not when she was feeling something completely alien for her. Fear, like what she'd felt during her dream of being stalked. It was horrid and sickening, twisting in her stomach until she felt as if she'd throw up again if there'd been anything there to vomit.
The stairwell was quiet, no one around at this early hour, and shift change wasn't for another hour yet. She raced down the stairs, hearing her feet echo against the cement steps. Every noise seemed magnified and eerie, her panting breaths unnaturally loud as she pushed out the heavy door that led into the parking garage.
Here too it was deserted. Her car was parked in its assigned slot in the badly lit lot, and she ran to it, staring around her wildly, wondering if Riley would come after her.
She was unlocking the door to her Mustang when the hand came down on her arm. With a shrill squeak, she grabbed the wrist, fighting with the man who tried to pull her into his arms. She managed to push him against her car, twisting his arm behind him. but she wouldn't be able to hold him long. And she had no idea what would happen when his strength overcame hers.