Logan POV

"I need to make a stop first."

"We'll be late," I warned as Bobby buckled his seat belt.

I'd left Liz's house a few minutes later than I meant to, and then I'd had to walk down to Pete's where I'd left the car, before driving to Bobby's place, so we didn't have any time to spare.

"I'll make it quick."

"Where's Alex?"

"She went to meet up with Theresa."

"Oh, so you're okay being late since she won't be there to see us," I joked.

And it was definitely only a joke.

I knew Bobby wouldn't take advantage of their relationship like that, and I also knew that considering the number of hours we put in each week, Alex wasn't going to bust our balls if we weren't there at precisely eight o'clock each morning.

"I don't want her to know we're late because I don't want her to ask where we were," he explained.

"Oh. So where are we going to be?"

"Let's take a swing through the Diamond District."

Which is why when I got to work, my wallet was considerably lighter than it was when I left the house.

And I don't mean because I bought Liz a ring.

I thought about it.

Long and hard, actually.

But we've only been dating a little over a month. And she doesn't want to be married again.

Honestly, as long as she's happy with me then it doesn't really matter whether we make it legally binding.

But she does have a birthday coming up in a few days, and then Valentine's Day is a few days after that, so I dropped the equivalent of a paycheck in the upscale jewelry store.

Not nearly what she's worth, but all I can afford.

In addition to the jewelry store purchase, I made reservations at a lodge in the Adirondacks, so I was hoping like hell that we could both get out of work at a decent time on Friday.

Of course, if Holt screws Alex over, I'll be hitting the bricks pretty early, so there won't be anything to worry about as far as getting a jump on the weekend, but I'm really hoping it doesn't come to that.

We got to 1PP by eight-thirty, and within five minutes of sitting down at our desks, we got a call.

"We got a DOA in Red Hook that matches up to your bulletin," the officer said. "I'll hold down the fort until you can get here. I've already called the ME."

So we drove to Red Hook.

"I hate to admit that we might need some help on this, but…" Bobby said as I found a place to park near the yellow tape.

"I know," I agreed. "We're so busy trying to keep up with the current murders that we can't spend any time investigating the older ones."

None of the five additional girls that Scott had found pictures of were ID'd yet, nor was the Jane Doe from Corlears. We were supposed to get the file from Paramus today, but the detective had warned us that it was painfully light.

We badged the uniform on scene and approached the body just as Liz was getting to her feet.

"We really need to quit meeting like this," Liz remarked.

"You're telling me. What've we got?"

"Strangulation with a nylon rope. Acid on the finger tips," she stated. And then she pointed to an object on the ground a few feet away. "And it looks like your guy forgot his hammer, so he used that two-by-four over there on her mouth."

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled. "Who knew we had so many psychos in the city?"

"Well, I did," Liz replied. "And I don't know if it counts for much, but at least this one's wounds were done post-mortem."

She held my gaze for a moment longer and then she turned back to the body while Bobby and I examined the scene.

"We really need to figure this thing out," he said quietly.

"Uh huh."

"Delaney said two more days. That means tomorrow. If we can't figure out who's behind it by then, they all might disappear into the woodwork."

I nodded thoughtfully as I continued to walk around the area, attempting to recreate the scene in my mind.

After another ten minutes or so, Liz left with our latest victim, promising to fast track the autopsy, but we were still searching for clues.

Because Bobby was right.

We were on a tight time line.

Not only might our mystery man disappear once the contest was over, but we were also afraid of increased entries, now that the deadline was approaching.

"Detectives!" one of the unis on scene called out.

"What is it?" I asked him as he moved towards us.

"I found a witness."

"To the murder?" Bobby asked as he got to his feet.

He had something in his hand, but he ignored it for the moment as we concentrated on this new bit of information.

"Lucy King," he said, pointing across the street to where a young girl was standing. "She was looking out her bedroom window when it happened."

"What took her so long?" I asked.

"Her mom didn't want her to get involved. She's afraid of payback or something. But the girl slipped out of the house as soon as she could and told me that she saw the guy. And she's the one who called it in."

"How old is she?"

"I asked the same thing. She's sixteen."

"She looks about ten," I remarked. "But great. Keep an eye on her for another minute and we'll be right there."

The officer nodded and walked back towards the girl, so I turned around and looked at Bobby.

"What did you find?"

"It's a check stub."

"From a paycheck?" I asked in surprise.

"Uh huh," he said with a nod.

He held out his hand to show me the now-opened slip of paper. There were several creases on it, as though it had been folded into a fairly small rectangle.

The paper itself was fairly clean, which suggested that it hadn't been on the ground for long.

"Atlas Garage on West 96th," I commented as I read the logo on the stub.

"I think maybe it came out of his pocket, like when he got out his phone to take the picture. We go up to Atlas, and they can match up this check number to an employee."

"And we have a witness who can confirm that the guy was here at the time of the murder as opposed to the stub being left at another time," I stated. "This guy's toast."

"Let's go talk to her," he said as he tucked the check stub into an evidence bag. "And if we can get her mother to agree to it, we can bring her in to do a line up after we pick the guy up."

So we chatted with Lucy, who seemed both enthralled and frightened by what she'd seen.

"When I looked, I saw him standing there with a board in his hand. I didn't think about it at first…I didn't even realize there was a body on the ground. And then he tossed the board and pulled something out of his pocket. I couldn't really see it, but it was either a camera or his phone because he took a picture, and then he ran down the street and got into a little red piece of shit car. I don't know what kind, but it was old and beat up."

"That's great, Lucy. Thanks."

And it really was great. This was the first witness we'd come across in eight murders. Or at least, the first one willing to speak up.

I let Bobby have a go at the mother, since he has a way with women, and after only a few minutes he managed to talk her in to letting Lucy do the lineup.

"As soon as we can get our hands on him, we'll give you a call, okay?" he said in parting.

"And he won't be able to see her, right? I mean, it'll be completely anonymous?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay."

We left Red Hook and drove to Atlas Garage, where we were given the name Brendan Ellis.

We ran his name through the system. He didn't have a record, but he did own a 1992 Ford Escort.

"That definitely qualifies as a piece of shit car," I commented.

The listed address was only a few blocks from the garage, so we quickly headed over to his apartment, and on the way, Bobby checked in with Alex.

He'd traded texts with her earlier, after she finished her meeting with Theresa. He'd let her know about the latest on the case, and she'd made mention of the fact that the meeting had gone as well as she could've hoped.

So I was surprised to hear him sound concerned when he placed the call as I drove us from Atlas to Ellis' home.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked her quietly. "Should I…"

And it's not like I was trying to eavesdrop, but what else could I do? We were three feet apart.

"Okay…okay…yeah, we'll talk about it later. And um…"

He trailed off without finishing his sentence, and so I said, "For the love of God, just say it. You're not on a com device this time."

He rolled his eyes at me, and then told her that he loves her.

And yeah, okay, so it's unprofessional.

Sort of.

But not really.

And like I said – it's just me.

What do I care?

It's not like I didn't watch them hang all over each other in the bar last night.

Hell, only a couple of hours ago, I watched him buy a diamond ring that I know for a fact is currently in his pants pocket because he was afraid to leave it at 1PP.

He hung up the phone and looked at me as I searched the street for a place to park near Ellis' place.

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked him.

"She's fine. Just had an unusual run-in that kind of threw her off her game."

I checked my watch after I put the car in park and then I looked at Bobby in concern.

"She can't afford to be off her game. She's got a press conference in ten minutes, right?"

"She pulled it together."

"She does that well," I agreed.

"Yeah, she does, but I really hate that she has to keep doing it. When are we ever going to catch a break?"

"After this week," I said with forced confidence. "Friday Holt will tell Ross thanks but no thanks and then we can all get back to the business of catching killers."

We got out of the car and headed for Ellis' building.

"Hey, Logan. Check it out."

I looked to see what had caught Bobby's eye.

A red Escort, parked up the block. We changed direction and went over to the car so that we could peek through the windows.

"What's that on the floor?" I asked, but the question was only rhetorical because it was pretty obvious, considering that the container was on its side and some fluid had leaked out, creating a hole in the floor mat.

"I'd say battery acid in the car owned by the recipient of the check stub we found at the scene gives us probable cause," he replied.

"Good. Then we don't have to be nice, because I'm really not in the mood."

We left the car and went into the building and then took the stairs to the third floor.

"Try not to get shot at this time, okay?"

He smirked and said, "Yeah, and you try to keep up."

"I'm hoping there won't be any running going on this time."

"And I'm hoping there's no shooting, either."

"Amen to that," I said as I banged on the door. "Brendan Ellis! Open up! NYPD!"

There was no sound coming from inside of the apartment, but I could still just picture him scrambling around destroying evidence while we stood outside, so I knocked one more time and then gave Bobby the look as I drew my weapon.

He nodded and pulled his out, too, and then I moved out of the way while he stepped back and then easily kicked the door in.

We burst into the apartment and found Brendan, with his back to the room, typing furiously on a laptop. He had headphones on and must have been rocking out pretty hard because once we were inside, I could hear the rhythm of the music even from ten feet away. And he clearly hadn't heard the knocking, nor had he noticed that his door was now barely hanging by the hinges.

From our position, we could see that Ellis had uploaded the photo of his victim onto the laptop and he was currently paused in his typing so that he could stare at the picture.

There was a revolver on the table next to the laptop.

"Gun," I commented quietly.

Bobby nodded and then gestured for me to go around to the left while he moved to the right. We needed to take him before he noticed us and reached for the gun.

Ellis made a sound, a sniffling or something and I looked at Bobby as we continued to fan out.

"Is he crying?" I mouthed.

Bobby shrugged in response and then held up three fingers and did a quick countdown.

As he dropped the last one, he lurched quickly into Brendan's line of sight and when he turned, startled by the appearance of a strange man in his living room, I lunged at him, tackling him and taking him out of his chair and onto the ground.

He didn't resist me at all.

Instead, he went limp while I flipped him onto his stomach and cuffed his hands behind his back.

Bobby confiscated the gun while I read Brendan his rights. The ear buds had come out when I tackled him and now the music was easily heard, so I arrested him to the tune of Comfortably Numb.

"Do you understand your rights?" I asked him when I finished. I pulled him up to his feet while Bobby righted the overturned chair and then sat down and looked to see what Brendan had been up to on the computer.

"Yeah."

"Good. Because you're under arrest for murder. You know that, right? That girl right there," I said, pointing at the picture still on the screen. "What's her name?"

"I killed her."

"We know. Who is she?"

"I killed her," he said again, and he looked to be in complete shock.

Was it possible that we'd actually found a remorseful killer?

"Brendan," Bobby said easily as he turned around in the chair. "We need her name so we can notify her family."

"Melissa Nolan."

"Okay," I said, catching Bobby's eye. He got up and stepped away, pulling out his phone to call CSU. "Good. And this is for the contest, right?"

"Yeah," he answered.

He dropped his head, trying to wipe his nose on his shirt sleeve, but he couldn't quite reach it since his hands were cuffed behind his back.

He looked up at me in frustration, but then he sighed and said, "You're taking me to jail?"

"Oh yeah," I replied. "But we need to know the details. We might be able to get you a break on your sentence if you can give us something useful."

"I don't want a break," he said firmly. "But take me in and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

TBC...