When Nikki woke up on the couch, a jackhammer went off in her head. Her stomach felt like two mighty fists were kneading it.

She stood bent over in front of the bathroom mirror, hands on the edge of the sink, staring at her swollen face, which was as foreign to her as rarely before. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd thrown up after a bender. He didn't know how much gin she'd downed, when she'd fallen asleep on the couch, or when Mike had come home and tucked her in. She didn't want to think about any of it. Just the thought of alcohol made her gag again.

Now it was nine o'clock in the morning, and she felt terrible in more ways than one because, despite the nausea and the pounding headache, she immediately thought of Jennifer and the other women again.

So, she was suspended. Just now, the actress needed her after being kidnapped practically before her eyes. Why had she been so careless as to leave Jennifer unprotected, even though she knew very well that this maniac was out there kidnapping women? Only to torture them for days. "Fucking shit!"

Nikki was startled by her own voice. She stared at her reflection, her reddened eyes half-covered by swollen lids. No, she didn't look terrible; she looked disgusting.

Disgusted, she turned around and stepped into the shower, careful not to lose her balance. Her circulation was still going crazy.

She pushed the temperature control to the right and turned on the water with a jerk. The icy cold blast made her scream, but she forced herself to stay and endure the cold. She knew it would at least partially restore her spirits. She stood shivering under the cold water for at least a minute before turning up the temperature and spent the next few minutes snorting under the steaming water. By the time Nikki dried her hair, she felt a little better.

Breakfast was out of the question, but she forced herself to a large cup of coffee, although her stomach threatened to rebel. It was 10:30 a.m. when she left the house and got to her car. She still felt a little shaky but didn't have time to rest. She had to find Jennifer McMillan.

During the drive, her thoughts circled around her newly found friend, who had nothing to do with law enforcement. Again and again, her mind conjured up these terrible images of Jennifer, almost losing her mind in fear and pain while this maniac played his perverse games with her. Again and again, Nikki hit the steering wheel.

Traffic was so heavy that she didn't arrive at the Christine Boutroux mansion until shortly before noon.

She had to ring the doorbell twice before the landlady opened the door and looked at her in surprise. "You again? I've already told you everything to say, and I don't know what else to add." Apparently, Boutroux had no intention of inviting the detective in. "And – if I add – how you look right now makes a meaningful conversation with you rather unlikely anyway."

"How about a few stories about your father's cabin in the woods?"

Boutroux's face changed, showing Nikki that she immediately understood what the detective was alluding to. "I don't see what the cabin could have to do with your investigation."

"It's enough for me to know. When was the last time you were there?"

"Were you there?"

The woman's self-important manner was getting on Nikki's nerves, but she knew she had to be careful if she didn't want to face worse consequences than a temporary suspension. "Mrs. Boutroux, I'm asking you to answer my questions."

"Or else?"

"Or else what?"

"If I get tired of answering your questions, what happens then?"

Something in Nikki changed. Not slowly, insidiously, but with a snap, as if Boutroux had pushed a button inside her that clearly said: Do not touch.

"What happens then? An innocent young woman may be killed in agony. Then you can proudly claim that you share the blame for her death because you successfully obstructed the investigation, damn it." She had become louder with every sentence.

Boutroux laughed dryly. "Me? Why would I obstruct the investigation?"

"Out of arrogance and a lack of compassion for others, for example."

The condescension in Boutroux's gaze could not be surpassed. "Or maybe the young woman has to die because you are simply incompetent and therefore can't make any progress in this case."

"Or because you're too much of a coward to admit to your lesbian S games, which you and your playmate are hiding in your father's cabin for." The moment Nikki spoke the words, she knew she'd let herself be carried away into making a grave mistake.

Boutroux's face seemed to turn to stone. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Isn't it right?"

She stared into the detective's eyes for three or four seconds. 'This conversation is over,' she said, slamming the door in Nikki's face.

For a moment, Nikki stood motionless, her face just inches from the closed door. She was breathing heavily. She was so upset that she wanted to pound her fists against the solid wood and yell at the woman to open the door immediately. But the part of her mind that was still functioning reasonably well told her that this would not help her but would only make her troubles worse.

So Nikki turned away, trudged to her car, and drove off. She didn't know where to go. She randomly turned here and there, joined the dense traffic, and stood at red lights. She couldn't remember ever being in a similar state before in her life, not even after her mother Sarah had taken her own life with Elizabeth's service weapon. She was overcome with a mixture of despair and sheer rage. So she decided to go home, at least for a few hours.

xxx

Nikki had managed to eat at least half a bagel with cream cheese and wanted to get back on the road and continue her search for answers and, above all, for Jennifer Mcmillan.

She opened the front door and pulled her chin in surprise when she saw the unexpected visitor. "Ma? I was just about to..."

Elizabeth, who had a look on her face that Nikki hadn't seen since her mother retired from the police force, squeezed past her daughter into the house. "No, stop," the former captain also said in a tone that brooked no contradiction, also something that hadn't happened since she left the police force, and Nikki drew in her chin. "You didn't want to do anything when you sat down on the fucking couch with your suspended ass and watched Netflix from morning to night until your fucking eyes started bleeding!"

Nikki's mouth hung open, and she unconsciously sat on the couch to obey her mother's angry command. "No, I... My team --"

"No, damn it, now you listen to me," Elizabeth barked loudly, with a fire in her eyes that her daughter hadn't seen in a long time. The former captain pointed to her chest. "Because I came from Nick's office, I left when smoke came out of his nostrils as he was about to spit fire. When he almost tore my head off with his bare hands while demanding to know if I knew about your little fucking stunt at Marius Boutroux's cabin because it looks pretty much like my handwriting."

"Ma, just listen to me --" Nikki started again.

"No, no, no," Elizabeth laughed, cynically pacing before her daughter. "I've been enjoying a well-deserved retirement for a while now, Nikki, and I'm staying out of police work for a good reason because it saved my fucking marriage. You decided it was best to take some time off from Boston and the BPD after the Carl Wallace case and disappear to your Aunt Katherine's in Quantico for a year. And look at where we are today. You came back stronger than ever, yet you managed to get yourself and everyone else on your team in so much trouble that Nick felt compelled to risk his neck and career for you."

Nikki sat on the couch and looked at her mother, like a beaten dog, licking her lips and swallowing hard.

"God --," Elizabeth growled, approaching her daughter furiously. "Marius Boutroux called Micaela this morning and expressed his fear that you might have broken into his daughter's cabin in the woods. Micaela then confessed to Nick in his office and gave him a piece of her mind. You're lucky you confessed to Nick. He has protected you, told her about the strong suspicion against Harry Upton, and rambled on about danger ahead. He will still get into trouble, though. He told me to tell you that if he hears your name in connection with this investigation again, he will have no choice but to drop you. Then neither your nor my name will help you anymore, and you can forget your career."

Nikki nodded with furrowed brows. "Yes, okay, but now please listen to me, Ma. You have to tell Nick that they absolutely have to issue an appeal to the public to see if anyone saw Jennifer Mcmillan outside after the fundraiser with a man. And they must question all the taxi drivers on duty that night…"

"Do you think Mike and Nick are beginners?" Elizabeth barked in disbelief. 'They've already set that in motion.' She paused and took a deep breath. "Nikki, once again, stay out of this case now. And don't go anywhere near Christine Boutroux, or no one will be able to do anything for you. Do you understand me?"

"That cold-hearted bitch," Nikki growled, repeatedly clenching her fists. "You should have seen how she behaved towards me. She didn't give a damn about Jennifer's life being at stake. I could have snapped."

Elizabeth looked at her daughter with concern. She had looked into this bottomless abyss more than once, which had opened up before Nikki. She knew this obsession to solve a case at all costs, bordering on sheer madness. She knew from her experience how difficult it was to break free from this vicious circle. "Nikki! Did you understand what I told you?"

Nikki blinked at her mother and licked her lips. "Yes, yes, yes! I'm not stupid."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and left her daughter's house hesitantly after a few minutes.

Nikki's jaw was grinding incessantly, and she grabbed her car keys. She desperately needed to talk to someone who knew her well enough to understand what was happening inside her. Someone who wasn't related to her or married to her. There was only one person to whom that applied, and that was her sister-in-law.

She dialed Kirsten's number, listened impatiently to the dial tone, and hung up when the mailbox came on. When she got into her car, she realized it was already Monday. She tried again and had Kirsten on the line seconds later. "Hi, it's your unfaithful sister-in-law." The cheerful words were belied by her dull voice.

"What's going on?" Kirsten asked without beating around the bush.

Nikki sat behind her wheel and smiled briefly. 'Big shit. I really need to talk to someone who has nothing to do with the BPD. Can I come to your place when you get off work?'

"Is it as bad as it sounds?"

Nikki hesitated for a moment. "Worse, actually."

"Then I'll see you at my place in half an hour."

Nikki made a face. 'No, I...' she started but then changed her mind. This was no time for false consideration. 'Okay, see you in half an hour. Thanks.'

Xxx

Nikki sat across from her sister-in-law in the latter's living room an hour later, a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. In addition to her concern for Jennifer, she also felt guilty because Kirsten had called off work immediately when she called, in contrast to her reaction to Kirsten's worried call on Tuesday, when she had been very curt.

Kirsten was standing so close to the detective with her wheelchair that the tips of her toes touched Nikki's legs. "So, go ahead. What's going on?"

Nikki leaned forward and took Kirsten's hands. "No, first, I want to know why you called me a few days ago."

"That's not --"

"Yes, it's important, and I'm sorry I didn't make time for you. Please excuse me."

Kirsten shook her head. 'It's not a problem to take half a day off. It's different for you in your job. Especially in this case.'

"Nevertheless, I'd like to know what it was about now. After that, we'll get to my point."

Kirsten licked her lips and looked away. "Oh... I might be reading too much about it, but I've been getting bizarre messages on Facebook for some time now. First, it was a guy named Tom. He wrote such odd things: that it was sad for a young woman to use a wheelchair and not be able to have real sex, at least not in a way that would really satisfy a man.

Nikki smiled a little and took a sip from her cup. "Oh, he was probably just some uptight guy. Did you block him?"

"Yes, but I wonder how he knew I am in a wheelchair. I didn't write that anywhere on Facebook, and there are no pictures of me except for two headshots. So he must know me from somewhere else."

"When did this happen?"

"The first message came about four weeks ago."

'But if you've blocked him, he can't bother you anymore.'

"No, but that's what's so strange. A few days later, I got a message from another user named Dirk. He wrote that I seemed to be relatively thin-skinned. But soon, I would meet someone very close who, unlike the usual limp dicks I've dealt with so far, would be different. After that, I got a message from Andrew and one from Michael. Every time I blocked a user, new messages came from a different profile. The intervals grew shorter and shorter, the messages more and more personal and disgusting. Then it just got too creepy, so I blocked the option to send me messages, along with posting on my profile."

"That was exactly the right thing to do, Kirsten."

"Yes, I thought so too. And then yesterday this came." Kirsten held her smartphone out to the detective after clicking on it twice or thrice.

Nikki saw a message via WhatsApp from someone who apparently was not one of Kirsten's contacts because the message only stored a phone number instead of a name.

Hello Kirsten, it's a shame that we can't communicate more via FB, but luckily, there are plenty of other ways. I want to talk to you a bit about sex. Do you know cybersex? Surely you do? It's one of the few ways for someone like you to live out your fantasies. I can help you, believe me. I'm good at cybersex.

And then, at some point, we'll meet in real life. Don't worry, you don't have to do anything for it. I'll take care of everything. I'll be standing in front of you one day.

Nikki sniffed, licked her lips, pulled her cell phone out of her jeans pocket, and wrote down the number: "A weirdo, and a stupid one at that." She tried to sound unconcerned, although the text worried her. "I'll take care of it. We'll find the owner of this number quickly. He won't contact you anymore; you can count on it."

"Yeah, okay," Kirsten said, but the detective sensed that her sister-in-law was not reassured.

Nikki got up from the couch and gritted her teeth before giving her sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek. Her own problems had to take a back seat for the moment. "I'll take care of that weirdo with the messages myself in a minute. I promise."

As soon as the detective was sitting in her car, she opened the browser on her smartphone and clicked through the online editions of the major newspapers. After a few minutes, she gave up, closed the browser, and called Mike.

"Hey, Nikki," he greeted his wife, audibly annoyed. 'What can I do for you?'

"Is there any news?"

"No, because if there was, I would have informed you already."

"What about the newspapers? I couldn't find a call for witnesses online yet. Why is it taking so long? You saw what this maniac did to the other women. Every minute counts if Jennifer is in the hands of this bastard."

"Which we still don't know."

"Come on now. You can't be that much of an idiot. She's been missing for almost two days. There's no sign of life from her. Of course, this guy has her."

"In any case, we have passed the appeal to all newspapers. They will put it online as soon as possible and in the print editions tomorrow. But they can't do magic either, Nikki.

"Oh, shit, I --"

"Nikki!" Mike said with such emphasis that Nikki held the phone away from her ear. "Stop it now! Go home and take your mind off it, but don't even consider investigating alone. I'll tell you how it is: Nick will transfer you to the office at best if you don't keep your feet still now."

Nikki rolled her eyes and licked her lips. "Yes, I got it the first time. But call me as soon as you find out anything, okay?"

"Yes, I will."

"Thanks." She hung up and made her way back home. She wanted to scream her anger and despair at being condemned to inactivity, but that wouldn't help either.