Or would they get worse?
The questions plagued her as she left the interrogation room, ready to go home to bed.
7
Mark Windsor was released from custody at the end of June, the charges against him dropped owing to a lack of evidence, in spite of the children's toys being found in his house. The district attorney claimed that none of the evidence submitted against Mark Windsor would hold up in court, and threw them out of his office.
Liz sought an investigation from Internal Affairs, suspecting that the DA was either dirty or being intimidated by Mark Windsor's people, but they didn't want to get involved.
On July 6 th , the eighth victim was pulled from a basement on Reighurst Street, heavily mutilated and bearing the Holiday Killer's signature markings. Liz fought to get Mark Windsor prosecuted, but he remained out on bail, and even with new victims turning up, the DA ignored Liz's case, turning a blind eye.
By the time the ninth victim was taken on Thanksgiving, the man was actively avoiding her and her questions.
She took to the streets during the peak of the crisis, randomly patrolling, hoping to stumble across the man sneaking into a house or—on those desperate nights after a kidnapping—dumping the body of his latest child. She didn't even care if it was the man who discovered Mike's body, or if it was Mark, or if it was a pink elephant in a tutu singing the Star Spangled Banner. She just wanted the fear to stop, the dread to lift, for holidays to mean something other than fear and death.
Most of all, she wanted Jamie safe.
Not once had she seen anything of use, but she still tried, determined to keep the city safe for as long as she could, even if it meant sitting in a car with a broken heater for hours at a time, in the middle of winter.
Thoughts of Jamie kept her going. Thoughts of protecting him kept her awake.
Phil and Liz were a little more relaxed now about the Holiday Killer's threat to take Jamie, but that didn't mean they weren't vigilant. Jamie wasn't allowed out of their sight for even a moment on holidays, or the nights surrounding them.
The fact that the Holiday Killer hadn't made so much as a move on Jamie had both if them worried. Was the man attempting to lull them into a false sense of security? Was he deterred by the security kept on him at all times? Or had he given up, deciding that it wasn't worth the effort to take him?
The questions gnawed at her as she climbed into bed each night, but none of his threats ever came to fruition. Liz wanted to believe she was doing what was best for Jamie, trying to catch the Holiday Killer instead of bowing to his demands, but eight hard months of nothing more than frustratingly clean bedrooms and decidedly messy child-corpses was wearing her down.
Maybe it would be better if she stood down, she thought on those long, desperate nights as she stalked the city. Let someone else take on the danger. She and her family were already skating a knife's edge; one more holiday without an attempt on Jamie could very well undo them. The tension that surrounded each holiday led to bruised egos and fights over nothing, creating grudges that neither could let go of.
It was Christmas Eve; couldn't the Holiday Killer just give them one Christmas of happiness?
Liz was broken out of her thoughts by her cell phone vibrating in time to her ringtone. She pulled over near the mouth of an alley, killing the engine and the headlights.
"Hey, Phil."
"Hey Liz. How's Jamie doing?"
"I don't know. Isn't he with you?" A chill ran down her back, but she swallowed it down. She wouldn't have a heart attack over a prank!
Phil hesitated. "Officer Rhonda said you came and picked him up an hour ago, in the minivan."
"I'm at work, Phil; I'm in the cruiser." She could feel bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down. "See if he's at home. I'm on my way over right now."
"See you then."
Liz started the engine and swung out into a U-turn that almost
The questions plagued her as she left the interrogation room, ready to go home to bed.
7
Mark Windsor was released from custody at the end of June, the charges against him dropped owing to a lack of evidence, in spite of the children's toys being found in his house. The district attorney claimed that none of the evidence submitted against Mark Windsor would hold up in court, and threw them out of his office.
Liz sought an investigation from Internal Affairs, suspecting that the DA was either dirty or being intimidated by Mark Windsor's people, but they didn't want to get involved.
On July 6 th , the eighth victim was pulled from a basement on Reighurst Street, heavily mutilated and bearing the Holiday Killer's signature markings. Liz fought to get Mark Windsor prosecuted, but he remained out on bail, and even with new victims turning up, the DA ignored Liz's case, turning a blind eye.
By the time the ninth victim was taken on Thanksgiving, the man was actively avoiding her and her questions.
She took to the streets during the peak of the crisis, randomly patrolling, hoping to stumble across the man sneaking into a house or—on those desperate nights after a kidnapping—dumping the body of his latest child. She didn't even care if it was the man who discovered Mike's body, or if it was Mark, or if it was a pink elephant in a tutu singing the Star Spangled Banner. She just wanted the fear to stop, the dread to lift, for holidays to mean something other than fear and death.
Most of all, she wanted Jamie safe.
Not once had she seen anything of use, but she still tried, determined to keep the city safe for as long as she could, even if it meant sitting in a car with a broken heater for hours at a time, in the middle of winter.
Thoughts of Jamie kept her going. Thoughts of protecting him kept her awake.
Phil and Liz were a little more relaxed now about the Holiday Killer's threat to take Jamie, but that didn't mean they weren't vigilant. Jamie wasn't allowed out of their sight for even a moment on holidays, or the nights surrounding them.
The fact that the Holiday Killer hadn't made so much as a move on Jamie had both if them worried. Was the man attempting to lull them into a false sense of security? Was he deterred by the security kept on him at all times? Or had he given up, deciding that it wasn't worth the effort to take him?
The questions gnawed at her as she climbed into bed each night, but none of his threats ever came to fruition. Liz wanted to believe she was doing what was best for Jamie, trying to catch the Holiday Killer instead of bowing to his demands, but eight hard months of nothing more than frustratingly clean bedrooms and decidedly messy child-corpses was wearing her down.
Maybe it would be better if she stood down, she thought on those long, desperate nights as she stalked the city. Let someone else take on the danger. She and her family were already skating a knife's edge; one more holiday without an attempt on Jamie could very well undo them. The tension that surrounded each holiday led to bruised egos and fights over nothing, creating grudges that neither could let go of.
It was Christmas Eve; couldn't the Holiday Killer just give them one Christmas of happiness?
Liz was broken out of her thoughts by her cell phone vibrating in time to her ringtone. She pulled over near the mouth of an alley, killing the engine and the headlights.
"Hey, Phil."
"Hey Liz. How's Jamie doing?"
"I don't know. Isn't he with you?" A chill ran down her back, but she swallowed it down. She wouldn't have a heart attack over a prank!
Phil hesitated. "Officer Rhonda said you came and picked him up an hour ago, in the minivan."
"I'm at work, Phil; I'm in the cruiser." She could feel bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down. "See if he's at home. I'm on my way over right now."
"See you then."
Liz started the engine and swung out into a U-turn that almost
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