Sweetheart Chapter 2:

Slowly we pulled up behind two cruisers, a scene all too familiar about to plague our eyes. My partner and I walked up slowly to the police tape that sectioned off the area. I noticed a rookie off to the side puking his guts out, typical. An older burley guy stood guard at the front of the yellow police tape, a scowl present on his face. I pulled out my badge, and my partner, Ryder, did the same. He only slightly nodded and held up the tape high enough for us to bend over through. I pulled on a pair of plastic gloves while Ryder held a notebook and a pen. The closer we got the more I dreaded what we would see. Of course, I'd worked similar cases and this wasn't even my first murder, but that was exactly the problem. Why in a small town like this, did a potential serial killer suddenly make his presence known?

Ryder nudged my shoulder, tilting his head towards the body. Similar to the first two, he was found in an alley with his throat cut. I kneeled down next to the body, making note of the marks around his wrists. I called out to Ryder; "Throat was cut from ear to ear, he likely bled out from that. He has little to no defensive wounds, so the attacker surprised him from behind. He was bound at the wrists too." Standing up, my eyes wandered through the rest of the scene. "He was killed in an alley, like the others. Either because it was empty, or perhaps this guy was making a statement. The coroner will be able to tell us more" I walked back to Ryder while he quickly jotted down what I said.

"What kinda statement?" He asked, blowing blonde hair out of his face. "The kind where he thinks he's cleaning up the city." Ryder's mouth made an O shape, and he continued to write. I walked past him, towards the entrance to the bar. I heard him jogging to catch up to me.

"You should cut your hair, it's getting a little long, no?" I said, without looking at him. He chuckled, walking next to me. "You're one to talk, Ronan." I glared at him, but he had a point. The last couple months my hair had grown long enough that I had to keep it in a bun. Before we walked into the bar, I called out to Ryder.

"We should talk to the people in the bar, ask if they have cameras. Maybe even whoever saw him last." Ryder nodded, holding the door open.

"The first responders are still talking with the owners of the bar. It'll probably be a no on the cameras though." I sighed, walking in.

"Figures." Every light inside the bar was turned on, and I could see the potential owners at the counter speaking with a couple cops. I expected them to be scared, or sad. But the only face that greeted mine, was one of indifference. Bruce, the cop that was speaking with the owner, noticed us walk in. He had his hands in the pockets of his uniform, and nodded walking up to us.

"Before you ask, no there aren't any cameras. They had some, but they quit working about a week ago. The new ones were supposed to be installed today."

"So what'd they say?" I asked, a bit irritated. He rolled his eyes but continued to fill us in.

"The owner was here last night, and he remembers the kid. Said he was a real piece of work."

I narrowed my eyes, "Meaning?"

"Meaning, he was rowdy and drunk, rude to the bartender and right before he left, he was seen talking to a girl in the corner of the bar. She looked uncomfortable, left the bar and he followed suit." He paused, while I waited for him to continue. Except, he didn't.

"So what's this girl's name?"

Bruce shook his head, sighing. "Don't know."

"Well that's just fucking fantastic." I said. "No cameras, and no name to the only potential witness we have." Bruce shrugged, turning to walk back to the owner. Pissed, the only thing we could do now was head back to the station and map out what he has been so far, which wasn't much if I'm being honest. Ryder trailed behind me as we walked back to the cruisers, and as he got into the passenger seat I spoke up

"We should send out a call to the local press asking if anyone has any information about the victim and the potential witness." Ryder nodded, slamming the car door. As I began to turn the key into the ignition, the radio crackled to life.

"Dispatch here, we've got a girl at the station saying she might have been the last person to see this Axel kid alive, over." Ryder and I both looked at eachother, I smiled slightly.

"Hopefully she saw something." Backing out of the alleyway, we started towards the station.

Pulling up to the station, Ryder and I practically ran into the building, hoping to speak to the potential witness.

"Where is she?" I called out to the front desk, who tilted their head towards the interrogation rooms, while holding up the number three. I jogged towards the back and overheard Ryder calling out a brief thank you while following suit. Before we entered, we decided to observe her through the mirrored glass. A young girl with black hair sat at the desk with an anxious look on her face. She fiddled with her thumbs, tucking her short strands of hair behind her ears. She'd occasionally lift her head towards the door, waiting. After a couple minutes I finally decided it was time to talk to her. Ryder stayed behind, to observe and take notes. I opened the door, taking a seat across from her. As soon as we made eye contact, she looked away quickly.

"So," I began, "Do you know who Axel Smith is?" Her eyes continued to shift, and she started to pick at her nails. "Yes." She replied with a hoarse voice, almost like she had been crying.

"Tell me about the last time you saw him." I sat up, placing my hands on the table clasped together, trying to catch her eye. "Well, last night.. I went to the bar. The one on Grandiose Lane, you know?" She asked, making brief eye contact. "I do." I replied, she continued. "Yeah so I went by myself, cause I just wanted to see what it was like. I was only there for a few minutes when the guy, Axel, sat next to me." Her voice started to tremble, and her lip quivered. "It's alright, take your time." I said in as soft of a tone I could manage. The fidgeting seemed to get worse, but she continued to speak. "I could smell cigarette smoke and alcohol on his breath as soon as he opened his mouth, but the way he talked could have fooled anyone that he wasn't. He started touching my hair, and my thigh. I tried to tell him to leave me alone, and I even moved to the corner of the booth. But he wouldn't quit, he kept trying to get me to go home with him. Eventually I had had enough, and just decided to leave the bar. I figured he wouldn't follow me. I thought wrong."

"What did you do after you left the bar?" I inquired, hoping to get it all out of her before she started crying. She made eye contact with me this time,

"He followed me out to the alleway, I could hear him calling after me, but when I turned around, he wasn't there. And I thought it was so strange because I knew that I had heard him. Part of me wanted to walk back towards the bar, but my gut told me otherwise. But at the same time, I had this feeling that I was somehow saved." Even on the verge of tears she smiled at me. "If whoever that was hadn't gotten to Axel at that moment, I'm sure I wouldn't be sitting in front of you today." I felt my pulse go cold, as I realized that the woman sitting in front of me was defending the murderer. "You realize he's killed three people, don't you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. Her eyes shifted away from mine again.

"I do. But to be honest, all the guys that have been killed honestly deserved what was coming to them." That sparked an idea. "Thanks for your time, I'll walk you out- uh, what was your name again?" She stood up walking towards the door, "Thanks- and it's Zoey." We exited the interrogation room, where I found Ryder standing. I nodded in his direction.

"If you need anything, be sure to let me or my partner Ryder know. Be safe out there, Zoey." I walked her to the exit where she smiled, quietly exiting the station. I watched her leave, until I felt a presence from behind me. I turned to find Ryder there, his glasses lenses flashing from the overhead lights.

"Remember what I said back at the scene?." I said, walking over to our desks where we had previously set up a board. It was full of evidence and crime scene photos, locations and times. I pulled the top drawer of my desk open, grabbing a sticky note and pen. Ryder stood next to the board analyzing its contents. A couple seconds later, I joined him and stuck the sticky note in the corner.

"Vigilante?" Ryder questioned, crossing his arms. "There's a pattern here." I started, shifting my gaze to Ryder. "He's only killing guys who harass or threaten people." Ryder chuckled while sitting down at his desk. "So you mean he's killing all the douchebags in town?" I frowned but nodded. "I guess you could put it like that. More or less, in the killer's mind, he's taking out the trash, rescuing people."

"Maybe we should hire him." Ryder joked, but I continued to frown at him. Gazing up at the board again, I knew to piece this puzzle together, we were going to need more evidence. And the only way to do that was for more murders to occur.