Stella took her rightful place atop him. And Sam thought, If there ever was a place for Stella Gibson, it was sitting on top of him, naked and beautiful, for as long as she wanted.


The soft humming of the air conditioner had started to lull Sam to sleep. He had just closed his eyes.

"I was assaulted in the interrogation room."

Stella's voice was low and trembling when she spoke.

"He almost killed me, really; he kicked and strangled me. I tried to get away." She said, trailing her words to a whisper.

Sam's own breath hitched at the image Stella painted in his mind. He pulled her closer. Her body was rigid, and she was shivering. A moment of silence fell between them, the humming of the air conditioner once again taking up space in the dark room.

"I had a partner. We were responding to an armed burglary," Sam said.

Stella rolled over on her back, then slowly turned to face him as he continued. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he could see Stella's brow furrow as she listened.

"I went around back, and my partner took the front. I did everything right, but before I could reach the back alley, I heard gunshots. I called it in and raced around, but I was too late. My partner had been shot, and the perp got away."

Stella didn't respond; she only intensified her stare. Her hand rested on his hip, and Sam continued.

"This is the job. You did everything right, Stella. You aren't weak, and you didn't mess up. My partner survived but lost mobility in his right side."

She hesitantly placed her hand on his cheek and kept it there for only a moment. She had a faraway stare, and for a moment, he thought he saw a hint of sadness. But whatever it was that he saw was gone as soon as it appeared.

"Sam, we need to do this. We have to find this girl."

"I know. Let me worry about it. Get some sleep. We have an early morning ahead of us."

Stella responded with a nonverbal affirmation, then rolled back over and into his already open arms. He waited until he felt her body go limp before he finally granted his own body the rest it craved.


Stella woke to her five-thirty alarm. She reached her arm in the direction of the continued beeping and fumbled her hand before finally finding her phone and pressing the end alarm button.

She rolled onto her back and, with her eyes still closed, placed her palm on the opposite side of the bed. Empty.

Stella was surprised to find Sam gone already. She was the one who usually kicked men out of her bed, not the other way around—telling them to get dressed and leave before she was out of the shower. This time, however, she was taken aback by her disappointment at Sam's early morning retreat.

She rolled over and turned the light on. Her eyes adjusted, and on the side table, there was a cup of coffee with a note attached to the lid.

I'll be downstairs. Ready to go by six-thirty.

-S

She sat up in bed, took a sip, and was grateful that Sam had provided her with instant caffeine. Taking the coffee with her, she headed toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. She was surprised by how refreshed she felt, given her nightmare and the overall tension of the case.

As the water careened over her body, Stella began to ruminate on the necessities of the day. They had a lot to do. And she was ready.

Don't go into the forest alone. The words appeared in her head; they meant something—she was sure of that. As the steam enveloped her, her mind, forgoing peace, focused on the case.


Sam sat in the hotel lobby and waited patiently for Stella and Jim to arrive. He woke up early this morning, took a shower, and dressed before Stella was awake. He made his way downstairs and returned with a cup of coffee and the room key he had borrowed to gain access back into her room—all before five-twenty.

The only thing he missed was his morning heavy-bag workout. He liked to refer to it as boxing out the stress. However, last night was far more pleasant, and Stella was right: they both needed it.

Today was a big day. There were several moving parts, and Sam wanted to hit the ground running. He had already adjusted the plan for the day. The hardware store wouldn't be open until nine a.m., so Sam decided to brief the team on the latest details on the case.

Stella was lost in thought when the elevator door opened and in walked Jim.

Murphy's Law, she thought.

"Good morning," she said flatly, annoyed that he was the first person she saw in the morning.

"Good morning," he said back. "Where is Detective Hodiak?" he asked in a snarky tone.

"Downstairs, waiting for us." She said, ignoring his tone and his innuendo. She had hoped her response would squelch any more jabs.

"Honestly, Gibson, I didn't think you'd go for the silent and strong type. I was thinking more of the puppy dog, yes, ma'am type, which seems to suit you better."

Stella's face burned; she wanted to box him—it wouldn't be the first time. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under her skin in a very bad way.

Jim buttoned his suit jacket, then continued his tirade. "I wonder, DS Gibson, if you can deliver on this case," he said in a haughty tone.

Silence filled the elevator until the ding on the buzzer let them know they had arrived at the lobby. Stella turned toward Jim, blocking the exit from the elevator as she did so. He took a step back, fumbling a little.

"Here's the deal, Jim. We have a killer to catch, and if you can't put your childish notion of wanting to punish me for rejecting you aside, then maybe you'd better ask for a reassignment. Because the only person I see who can't do their job here is you."

The doors opened, and Stella left Jim standing in the middle of the empty elevator.

Sam was waiting by the front entrance, and Stella caught her breath at the sight of him. Jim's crude remarks in the elevator had shaken her. She handled Jim well enough, but when she saw Sam, something inside her wanted him to comfort her and take away the sting of shame and guilt she felt after Jim's verbal assault on her character.

"Hey," Sam said. He tilted his head, his eyes searching her face. What's wrong?" He asked with a look of concern. Stella shifted her gaze.

"Nothing," she snapped back. She didn't want his pity or concern. Not now, anyway. Not in public.

He nodded. Clearly getting her nonverbals.

Just then, Jim joined them.

"Ah, good morning, you two." He said. Chipper and phony.

"Hello, Jim. Okay, we are all here; let's get a move on," Sam said.

Stella was livid. She turned to Jim, then to Sam. She wasn't going to let Jim off the hook that easily.

"Yes, let's. But before we make a move to Sam's vehicle, why don't you ask Sam what you asked me in the elevator, Jim?"

Jim looked at Stella, and his eyes widened. Sam looked confused, but his curiosity had peaked. He crossed his arms and looked at Jim.

"Ask away," he said to Jim.

Oh, it's really nothing," Jim said with a smug smile.

"Mm, nothing; is that what we're calling it? Funny, that's not how I perceived it," Stella said, then turned to Sam with her hands crossed tightly in front of her and continued, "Jim wants to know if you can still do your job while fucking me. At least that's what he implied to me when he cornered me in the elevator just now. Isn't that right, Jim?" Stella finished turning to Jim.

Both men went silent.

"Yes, I think we can go now," she said, leaving them standing in the lobby.

An awkward moment of silence fell between the two men before Sam addressed Jim.

"Here's how this is going to play out," Sam said curtly. He wasn't in the mood for Jim's bullshit.

"I beg your pardon," Jim said in protest, his mouth open as if he were going to continue speaking, but Sam cut him off.

"I won't report your behavior to my superior because you won't cause any trouble for Stella," Sam said, inching closer to Jim. His hands were on his hips, and he stared down at Jim as he talked.

"Are you threatening me?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, you bet I am," Sam said, placing a hand on Jim's shoulder and then patting it. "Stay out of my way. Jim, I can't speak for Stella, but if I were you, I'd watch yourself with her. She's not someone you want to mess with," he finished.

Sam shook his head and turned around, walking away from Jim. "Let's go, Jim," he shouted, waving a hand in the air with his middle finger extended.

Sam was still shaking his head as he walked toward the valet attendant. Stella was to the side; she was on the phone and lost in conversation. Sam wondered who she was talking to. But he figured if she wanted him to know, she would tell him once she hung up. As he waited, he checked his messages. He had three messages from Ed telling him to call him, but when he called the station to speak with him, the operator let Sam know he was on another call and would call him back.

The attendant arrived with the SUV and handed Sam the keys. Stella rushed over to join him. "That was Ed; he wanted an update. He wanted to know what our plans were for the day," she said.

"Ed called you?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

"Shit, no, can you take his calls all the time?"

"I'd rather like the chap, and honestly, I find his candor refreshing." She said.

"He's all yours, Detective Superintendent," Sam said with a chuckle.

"That's funny because I thought you were all mine."

Sam raised an eyebrow at her playful banter. But before he could reciprocate, he caught Jim walking toward them out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't about to give Jim any more unnecessary ammo. Although he presumed Stella might push the envelope today when it came to their relationship, Jim was an ass, and it was well within Stella's right to antagonize him.

At the station, Sam briefed the team on the updated victimology.

"The victims were all alone or in controllable pairs. They were most likely secluded, and the killer would have followed them, waiting for the right moment." Sam explained this to a room full of detectives and police officers assigned to the task force. He continued, "What DS Gibson has determined from this kidnapping is that our killer is from this area. Now, I don't have to remind you all of how crucial the next twelve to twenty-four hours are."

Sam shuffled a few papers on the podium, then introduced Stella to the front.

"As many of you are aware, DS Gibson from the U.K. has been sent to continue her work on the case. She built the profile on our perp, and I'd like to have her brief you on the profile."

Stella walked up to the podium with her small notebook in hand. "Thank you, Detective Hodiak," she said, then continued addressing the crowd of officers. The unsub is a male in his mid-to-early thirties who most likely has a compulsion disorder as a result of trauma. I have yet to establish the type of trauma, but I believe it to be an early childhood occurrence. Furthermore, he believes he is righting a wrong but could also harbor anger toward a parent or authority figure. It's why I believe he takes our victims when they are alone."

Stella concluded, and when they finished their briefing and assigned portions of the forest roads to the team to monitor the check points, Jim headed out to the south-end ranger station, while Sam and Stella pursued their last lead from the hardware stores.

"Jim's nothing but a pathetic little man," Stella blurted out once Sam had pulled out of the station.

"I was ambitious and made a bad judgment call; he was infatuated with me, horny, and unhappy with his marriage. You can guess how it played out," Stella finished.

Sam nodded in understanding. He'd made his fair share of work-related romantic mistakes. But somehow, what he had with Stella felt different.

"It's not like that with us. In case you were wondering."

Her gaze focused on the road as she spoke. Sam glanced in her direction, and with a coy smile, he responded.

"I wasn't. And I know."


Katherine heard footsteps approaching from behind the locked door. She braced herself for what was to come, fully expecting to see scenes of her life flash before her. But when the door opened, an unassuming man stood before her. She guessed he was somewhere in his mid-thirties.

"Hello, how did you sleep?" he asked.

Katherine's brain was on overload; she could cry and plead for her life, or she could remain calm and match the man's energy. She decided on the latter.

"Would you like me to be honest?" she asked the man. He seemed intrigued by her question.

"Please do."

"I didn't. I'm in some pain, and the floor was cold."

Well, sorry about the foot; I had a little mishap when I carried you in the truck."

Ah, I see," she said as if she were talking about the weather. Play it cool, she reminded herself as she fought the urge to cry out. The stranger was still standing at the door, his hand firmly on the handle. The other hand held a bottle of water.

"I'll be back, but for now. Here is some water," he said, throwing her the plastic bottle full of water. She ducked at the throw, which almost hit her. Wanting to throw the damn thing back at him, she instead said, "Thank you."

He looked puzzled by her behavior. "Why were you alone in the park? Don't you know it's not safe?" he stated.

"I was taking pictures. And you are right. I guess I wasn't thinking," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah, that was stupid of you," he said, leaving her alone in the room and locking the door. His footsteps faded in the distance.

Moments later, she heard the sound of a vehicle drive away. It was now or never. Katherine slowly stood; her body ached, and her leg throbbed. She was full of adrenaline, and it didn't take long for her mind to concentrate on one thing: find a way out.


"If I had to choose, Nick Carter. And not because he's American and Holmes is..." Sam glanced at Stella. She gave him the side eye, and he smirked.

"All I'm saying is, Carter's style is more..."

"Barbaric?" Stella interrupted him, clearing her throat.

Before Sam had a chance to respond, an older man stepped up to the front counter. "How can I help you both? Let me guess, kitchen remodel?" The store owner said as Sam chuckled at his misinterpretation, and from what he could gather from Stella's reaction, she wasn't amused.

"No, actually, I'm Detective Gibson, and this is my partner, Detective Hodiak." Sam took out his badge, and the man acted shocked. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, clearly embarrassed by his assumption.

"It's fine," Sam interjected. "It happens all the time; she's used to it," Sam said, clearly teasing. He watched as Stella tapped on the glass counter and continued, "Don," glancing at the name embroidered on his white cotton button-down shirt, "do you keep a log of all your purchases?" Nodding in the direction of the computer on the counter.

"Actually funny, you should say that. My daughter just upgraded my system. I keep everything logged in Quickbooks," Don said.

Sam pulled out a piece of paper and said, "We are looking for this type of heavy-duty tape, possibly duct tape or electrical tape. Within a possible two-week timeline. "

"Let me check."

Don focused on the computer screen, and with a few clicks, he said, "I have several; would you like me to print the list?"

They nodded in sync. When he handed the paper over, Stella's shoulders sagged. It was clear they wouldn't be able to come up with any leads with the list he handed them. Several customers bought tape within a two-week time frame.

"Do you have the names of any of these customers?"

"Well, I can give you the names of the customers who purchased with credit cards, but with cash, I'm afraid I can't."

"That's fine," Sam said, frustrated as well. "Do you have cameras?"

"Yes, sir, and they work," he said, proud of the fact. "Let me print the list of customers who I have on file with the purchases; then I can pull up the cameras on the laptop in the back and bring it out front for you."

Don clicked some more on the computer, and while they waited, Stella scoped out the small hardware store. It was neat and organized. Her eyes traveled to the glass counter. There was a small plastic bowl filled with change and a note written on it:

Need a penny? Take a penny. Give a penny.

She glanced up at Sam with a puzzled look on her face as her eyes shifted toward the bowl full of change. Sam gazed down at the bowl and jokingly went to take a penny. As his hand accidentally bumped the bowl, a glint of silver caught Stella's attention. There in the bowl, among the dirty copper pennies, was a shiny silver coin. One that she recognized all too well.

"Excuse me, Don," she said. "What is this?" Pointing at the bowl filled with coins.

"Oh, that? My customers can use it if they need spare change as well as leave left over coins," he said.

"And that," she said, pointing to the silver coin.

"Oh, one of my customers gave it to me. He just got back from Europe."

Sam's expression sobered up, and Stella pointed to his suit pocket. He nodded and pulled out a glove, handing it to Stella. This was the big break; he could feel it.

Stella didn't hesitate. "Do you have a name? She asked the man as she took the glove from Sam and picked up the coin, wrapping it in the glove, and then handing it back to Sam. He placed it back in his suit jacket.

"Sure, a local kid by the name of Jimmy Stokes."

"Does he live close by?" Sam asked, and Stella nodded at Sam, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed Ed.

"Yeah, right up the feeder road, up the Angeles foothill, about 5 miles," Don said, using his hands to point in the direction. "I can give you his address, too. What's this about?"

"Thank you; that would be great. Just checking out a lead on a truck."

The clerk pressed some more keys and handed a sheet of paper to Sam from the small printer behind the counter. "Oh, well, that makes sense; Jimmy drives his dad's old pickup. I'm surprised it was still running on account of him being gone so long."

Sam grabbed the paper and pulled at Stella's elbow. She was on the phone with Ed, letting him know of the development.

"Thanks again. I'm going to send a few uniformed officers to gather a statement from you; they should be here in fifteen minutes. Lock the store once we leave and wait for the officers," Sam instructed Don, and they rushed out the door.

"Here's the address," Stella said, reciting the address into the phone as Sam rounded the front of the vehicle to the driver's side. "Send back-up. No lights, no sirens," she said before hanging up the phone.

"Sam, do you know what this means?"

"Oh, do I! What did Ed say?"

"He said to wait for backup."

Sam looked at Stella, and they exchanged a quick glance. There would be no waiting.

He quickly put the car in drive and followed the directions the GPS had begun to recite through the speaker.