A/N: Hold onto your butts because things are going to start taking off!

Traylor Greene was blowing into her cupped hands, trying to keep warm. She dressed for the weather, keeping the goods under wraps, but if you stand out on a night like this long enough the cold will still get to you.

In the corner of her eye came a very familiar car, which invoked a sigh from the girl.

"We're doing this again, huh?" she whispered.

The window was already lowering before the vehicle even stopped.

"Evening," smiled the dark-skinned man behind the wheel. "Anything interesting?"

"Nothing interesting, officer."

She leaned into the passenger side window, communicating feet away from the driver.

"So, nothing to report then?" he asked with that friendly smile of his.

"No, Andre" Traylor smirked. "Anything else?"

He tapped the steering wheel, looking away briefly before focusing on her again.

"No clients tonight?"

Traylor narrowed her eyes and exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Well, you've got one now."

She was about to protest but it's been ninety minutes in the freezing chill and nobody had stopped.

"Okay, fine!"

Once the door unlocked, the girl hopped into the car with a huff, flipping her green and black hair.

"You hungry?" Andre asked.

"Is that a serious question?" Traylor shot back.

Yards away, from the rear-view mirror of a dark blue Chevy Blazer, a hunter's eyes were settled on the woman of the night. But he angrily withheld his approach when she was picked up by the strange man. He didn't know that the gentleman in the car was a cop.

It wouldn't matter anyway.

(Arrogant prick kept me on the phone for too long!)

Had he gotten here sooner, she would be in his car by now.

Hal cursed at how things weren't going as he had hoped.

Deer blinds never intrigued him. Didn't subscribe to the "wait and see" approach. A true hunter was more active in his pursuit. Aggressive. But one thing went hand-in-hand with all hunters: patience.

He just had to wait until she was alone.

(Next time.)

After picking her up, Andre got them some Chinese food. To go, of course. Traylor commented that it be best that she wasn't seen with a cop. Might make the johns nervous about doing business if they believe she's an operative of the Langley Police Department. He parked in a quiet area overlooking the trees and kept the car running, letting the heat to continue blowing.

The pair just ate quietly for a while before the cop checked his phone.

"I'm guessing no updates on your end either, right?"

The detective shook his head.

"Nah."

In the last six weeks, two sex workers were found dead just outside of town. The chief had tried to assign more officers to the case but the manpower in the area had been tied up. A month prior, two high school seniors in Bellevue disappeared graduation night seemingly without a trace. In two days' time, the FBI was contacted and lawmen from Bellevue and surrounding precincts entered a wide search for the women.

Andre hated to admit it, but when dealing with a missing person's case, time was of the essence. And the more individuals tasked with looking for those in the wind, the better. With a homicide, the damage was done. Now, it was a matter of figuring out who did it less they were to kill again.

But the detective was well aware had the "Bellevue Belles" as the papers called them hadn't vanished, little effort would've gone into these murders anyway. After all, they were only sex workers, prostitutes, whores looking for money "the easy way."

Some saw them as such, but he didn't. Neither did his superior, which was one of many things he admired.

"Aren't you even a little scared?" he asked.

"Of course I'm scared, dammit!" she cried, nearly choking on her vegetable lo mien. "What happened to Lin and Bethany..." her voice lowered. "...jesus christ..." Traylor drew in a long breath. "They looked like fucking animals, 'Dre! Butchered! Why? Who would do that?"

The man sighed and scratched his ear.

"I really don't know."

Traylor and Andre Harris went way back. She was in his class throughout middle school and high school. They almost dated, but he was too important to her to risk on a dumb teenage romance that had the strong chance of petering out. Andre was just a dear friend but over time they fell into different social groups in school and hung out less. Traylor started experimenting with drugs when hanging out with some bad kids.

Her grades began to slip, college plans fell through, and her parents got fed up with her habits. Traylor had some hard years on the streets making her own way with odd jobs, working the nightly companion circuit to help make the ends meet. There were no pimps or anything out here, and Traylor had been clean for five years. It just worried Andre how there was no protection for her. When cops picked her up, Andre would move her to a holding cell away from the other arrested people so nobody would mess with her.

Andre offered many times to have her crash at his house. Ever since his grandmother had passed away, it's been pretty lonely. There was plenty of space. He assured Traylor that there were no strings, nothing in exchange. Just an old friend helping another. She touched his cheek and kindly turned him down. Traylor was afraid of becoming dependent on somebody would land her back into old habits. Bad habits.

This wasn't the first time he "picked her up," but it was always to take her for a bite to eat or watch a movie or just hang out. It was the only time she accepted money from him, as he technically was requesting her time. Traylor offered sex once or twice but as much as he cared for her, he just couldn't accept. They somehow loved one another too much to get any closer than arm's length.

"How's that partner of yours working out?" she asked, changing the subject.

"He's a good guy. Not a rookie but a little green to how things work around here." Andre raised a brow. "You haven't...seen him, did you?"

Traylor snorted, hitting the dash with her foot.

"Oh, please! That boy is too shy for his own good."

He sat back in his seat.

"Really?"

"One night, he pulled over asking for directions and I propositioned him."

"You did?" Andre chuckled. "Then what happened?"

The woman could hardly contain her laughter, looking back on that evening.

"He turned bright red and sped away. Hope he found where he was going!"

The old classmates shared a spirited laughing fit, leaning on one another for support.

"That's too good!" he sighed, wiping his eye.

Traylor smacked his arm, "Please don't tell him!"

Andre put up his hands.

"Okay, okay, I won't, I won't!"

"It really does get beautiful out here at night..." she said, her whole body relaxing. "But it can be pretty spooky when you're by yourself."

He stared down at his soda can and took a sip.

"Heard that this season will have the best view of the northern lights in years. Maybe...maybe we can catch them. If you're not busy."

Traylor looked over at her friend and smiled warmly.

"That sounds good to me."

Two victims already.

Two.

Jade was shaken up by Greg's discussion of the recent murders. It was the biggest news from back home since Jane Doe, which had hit a dead end.

Langley was this quiet community, the only noise coming from the tourists and transients. Petty crimes at best, but nothing this serious. Detectives on the force were few, Andre being about the only man qualified to work for homicide.

The medical examiner picked the brain of her connections in the lab, but they had nothing concrete.

"This sucks!"

(I leave home and everything goes to shit!)

People died in Langley, Washington but it was primarily accidents or health related. The closest thing would probably be manslaughter, like an intoxicated driver killed someone. But no "murders" occurred in Langley. How else was the morgue headed by one guy and an assistant? How else was the Homicide Department similar in size?

Jade shook her head, recalling how many true crime stories she had heard since she was a teenager had the same sentiment: Nobody thought it could happen here. But stranger things have happened.

Andre was a good cop, she believed strongly. He was competent and compassionate, something in short supply in law enforcement. Jade knew from experience, both on the streets and behind the closed doors of the courts, that nobody valued human life equally. She was certain that the victim's occupation had come into scrutiny.

(Are people THIS naive?)

This was just like the Canadian serial killer that targeted indigenous women, or Jeffrey Dahmer who preyed on gay black men. These monsters chose their hunting grounds carefully, going after people who historically were ignored (or worse, vilified) by the authorities. This offered such men free reign to do the evils they craved. Hell, this wasn't the first time a murderer targeted sex workers specifically.

Why not?

Would they be missed? Would anyone care?

Jade slammed her fist down, shaking her laptop. Her blue eye glanced over to her notepad, the word she scrawled in haste during her haze.

"Time? The fuck did I mean by that?!"

She had her first high since college BEFORE learning about the murders. Jade figured it had to pertain to Jane Doe #201 but in what way? So, in her fantastical brain, the concept of time bubbled up to the surface. But why? What was it referring to? She felt like she found a key on the ground and had no clue what door it went to.

Was this how it worked? Were the rumors of getting stoned accurate? Did it really open your mind; realign your chakras to expose a hidden truth?

A musician or a writer would be slammed with a heavy turn of phrase, a painter seeing a color that previously never existed. In her case, it was like she was handed a random puzzle piece.

(FUCK ME!)

Tori was reading the news on her tablet; national attention being brought to the missing girls in the pacific northwest. She gnawed on her thumbnail as she read through the details.

Apparently, the girls in question were high school graduates, being best friends. When the ceremony ended, it was parties all around town. Their original plan with their friend group was to get a hotel room, or two, and go to a waterpark the following morning to kick off the first day of their post-graduation with a bang. But then, things changed as they do, and the pair was going to go to the one friend's (Heather Jacobs) house for a sleepover. But Heather's house was full of relatives as they all blew in from out of town for the graduation. So, they went to the other girl's (Nikki Benson) house.

When morning came, Nikki's dad returned to the house and something felt off, as he reported to police. There was no sign of a break-in or a struggle, and nothing appeared to be stolen. So, the girl's father didn't know he was walking into a crime scene. He didn't even know that his daughter and friend were there until he saw their purses and other personal items left neatly in the hallway of the bedrooms. While he didn't encourage his daughter vaping, her bestie Heather did. So, when he found the vape left behind, he didn't understand.

Because of the constantly shifting plans, there was mass confusion in the first 24 hours. People called everybody else, driving around to see where they could have gone. A lot of crazy things happen on graduation night. Apart from drinking and sex, there were also pranks and accidents. Nothing about this house showed that the girls had left on their own accord, but nothing in the house proved force was involved either.

Sadly, once friends and relatives began to put it together that something bad must have happened, dozens had trampled throughout the Benson house. Footprints and fingerprints were everywhere, and personal belongings were moved around before the police arrived. This destroyed any useful evidence to aid the investigation. On the second day, the FBI came in and recent pictures of Heather and Nikki went on TV news and social media.

Tori held her face and sighed heavily.

She wanted to place the blame on the father and others for contaminating the scene, but what would a parent do in that situation? Tori honestly didn't know what she would do, police training or not. When someone you love is missing, would you behave rationally?

This whole thing was messy indeed.

"I sure hope they find them."

(The more time goes by, the worse it looks.)

The ibuprofen was working fine and Tori made sure to keep her protein up throughout the day. She was ready to get back into action again. Her whole experience with the Ruzzolini family had left a bad taste in her mouth, but reading the news on a daily basis was a constant reminder that people were still in trouble. Tori was needed outside of this stupid apartment, and she couldn't wait to get out!

A/N: Yes, REJOYCE! More characters are coming.

The case of the missing girls in Bellevue was based loosely on "The Springfield Three" where a mother, her daughter and her daughter's friend vanished the night of graduation in Springfield, MO. To this day, nobody has found them or figured who did it. Only one strong suspect came up since 1992 (the year they disappeared) and he sat in jail, toying with investigators about his "possible" connection to the crime.