Syd Parker - The Killing Ground

Rick’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and within in minutes, an image popped up on the large monitor in front of them. “Driver’s license okay? It’s all I can pull up on her.”

No one needed to state the obvious. The likeness was uncanny. The hair, the eyes, way too similar to be coincidence.

“I think we have our killer.” Rebecca circled Dr. Stein’s name and snapped the lid back on the pen loudly. “What do you say we get a warrant and arrest this bastard?”

“I don’t know, boss.” Rick cautioned. “What we’ve got is circumstantial at best.”

“Why you busting my balls, Jonesy?” Rebecca countered. “We’ve got enough to at least bring him in.”

“I’m busting your balls ‘cause the judge is going to bust your balls. You know I can’t call him up and ask any favors right now. Give me something concrete.”

“What about the Dawsons?” Jordan ran a hand through her hair. “Think we can get them to issue an official statement? She can corroborate his access to the sperm samples and taking them off clinic property.”

“True.” Rebecca agreed. “We need them both to give a statement. I want to search the yard too.”

Rick shook his head. “That guy ain’t doing anything out of the kindness of his heart. It’s going to take a favor.”

“Money?” Rebecca cocked an eyebrow.

“Uh-uh.” Rick pulled up his record. “We’re gonna have to wipe this.”

Rebecca eyed the miscellaneous rap sheet. A couple of misdemeanors for public disorder, one prior for beating the shit out of his wife. “Do it. Just make sure he understands if he touches her again, I’ll fucking castrate him myself.”

Rick nodded.

“Jonesy, whatever we need to do, get me that warrant.” Rebecca was still tossing the pen, clearly worked up. She hated being this close and staring at a wall. What they needed to do was figure out a way to get around the wall. “Until then, I want you two on Stein. I want to know where he is at all times, what he’s doing, if he stops to take a piss, I want to know if he puts the seat back down.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Rick nudged Matt on the arm. “Good old-fashioned stake out. Bet you ain’t done one of those in a while.”

Rebecca watched them walk away then met Jordan’s questioning gaze. “Go home. Get some rest. Tomorrow we’re going to find out why Dr. Mercer lied to us.”

Jordan looked crestfallen. For the past month, they hadn’t spent a night apart. Tonight, despite the fact that Rebecca had moved past her doubts, Jordan was getting banished to a night alone. “Fine. See ya tomorrow, boss.”

Rebecca’s heart went out to Jordan. It wasn’t her fault Rebecca was having trouble looking past the obvious connection with Dr. Mercer. She just didn’t trust the woman and was having a hard time believing nothing had happened. Tonight, she needed some space. She needed to re-evaluate where their relationship was going. What she needed most was a clear head to focus on the case.

She watched Jordan leave and wondered again if she had made the right choice, and if she would ever be able to let go of the job enough to let herself love without reserve.

Jordan punched the bag angrily, taking her mounting frustration out on the vinyl and stuffing. She felt sweat start to bead on her brow and run down the side of her face. Good, she thought. Maybe I can sweat the hurt out. Every punch landed with a thud, and she punched until there was nothing left inside to let go of.

She saw Rebecca’s flaming red hair and brilliant emerald eyes looking longingly at her. She could almost taste her creamy-white skin, and an involuntary shudder coursed through her veins. She couldn’t fault Rebecca for her choice to push her away. Jordan had been mostly honest with her sexual history, and she knew she came across as a player. Maybe it was Rebecca’s one last attempt to protect herself from getting hurt, but maybe it was just what Rebecca had told her. She needed space to think.

There was some truth to that. Love had a way of being distracting, and even though they hadn’t gotten to that point yet, lust was just as bad sometimes, maybe worse. Jordan was probably just as distracted, but she hadn’t had to face it…until that night. The night when they knew that Richard Hudson wasn’t the killer. Still, even with acknowledging there was some truth to Rebecca’s request, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Hey, kiddo, you keep attacking that poor soul like that, there ain’t gonna be a bag left for the next guy.”

Jordan looked up and found Tony grinning at her. “Hey, Woz. Long day and an even longer couple of months.”

“Yeah, I heard somewhere you might be working that Cradle Killer case on the side.” There was no doubt Tony had heard it straight from a source at the FBI. He may have been retired, but he was still as connected as he had been twenty years ago. “Hell of a mix up with that Hudson fellow.”

Jordan growled at the mention of his name. “Damn waste of manpower and money and the SOB responsible is still on the street.”

“You getting any closer to catching the real guy?” Tony nearly missed her eyebrow cock slightly, and he smiled. “So you are, eh? That’s good.”

“I didn’t say that.” She walked by and punched him in the arm. “Buy me a drink and I’ll give you some what if’s.”

Tony chuckled loudly. He still believed he was one of the guys, and Jordan knew that anything she shared with him would stay between them. “Shower first, would ya? I can’t have the boys at the bar thinking I’m losing my touch with the ladies. I walk in with you smelling like that, and they’ll have my balls in a jar.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jordan’s voice trailed off as she rounded the corner and out of sight.

Tony walked up to the bag and rubbed his calloused hands along the shiny vinyl. He smiled and shook his head. A lot of hours had been spent in this gym working on cases, getting rid of stress. Apparently, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree with Jordan. He may not have been her real father, but he had more influence on who she was today than that sorry son-of-a-bitch that was half of her DNA.

He took a step back and made a fist, tapping the bag lightly with a satisfying thud. He heard the chain rattle and he grabbed the bag and steadied it once more. He pivoted and started to walk away before stopping and executing a perfect roundhouse kick to the middle of the bag. His pleased chuckle echoed off the walls. “Still got it.”

“Talking to yourself again, old man?” Jordan teased. “Let’s get out of here before someone hears you and has you committed.”

Ten minutes later, they were seated at a small table in the back corner at Frank’s. Jordan had caught the pool table out of the corner of her eye, and her mind flashed back to the night she had played Rebecca the first time. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but Rebecca was feeling just as much sexual tension as she had.

Since that night, they had been back several times, and it never failed. The competition between them fueled their sexual tension, but now when it was almost too much, Jordan had only to give Rebecca a look, and they would be in bed minutes later making love. Not tonight. She breathed a loud sigh that wasn’t lost on Tony.

“What’s up, kiddo?” His eyes had lost the teasing sparkle that normally took up residence there, and he looked genuinely concerned. “More than the job I’d say.”

Jordan took a long swig of her Corona and leaned back in her chair, her face breaking into a weary smile. “How come you never settled down?”

An uncomfortable laugh answered her question. “Well, I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting that question. What’s got you wondering that?”