What Burns Within by Sandra Ruttan

on a fresh rape case, so why would I think you’d be interested in a report that came in about one from early July?”
“Are you just going to let him—”
“Ahem,” Daly said as Lori sat down in a chair, uninvited. She stood up again. Craig noticed some of the color in her cheeks had dissipated.
“Until you hold the rank of staff sergeant or inspector or what ever it is you’ve set your sights on, you don’t walk through that door without my permission.” Daly pointed a finger at her. “Second, Craig has a point. You left last night of your own free will. I watched you. Craig’s job is to follow any leads in the case until it’s solved or shelved, not to second guess what you do and do not find pertinent.
“My officers don’t prove themselves to me by having a head full of attitude and an axe to grind with everyone they work with. Have I made myself clear?”
“Quite.”
“You’re dismissed, Constable Price.”
Craig reached for his orange juice as the door slammed shut, the closest picture on the wall shifting sideways. Daly’s mouth hung open, and Craig held up his hands. “Like you said, she’s tough.”
Daly snorted. “I didn’t realize she was impossible.”
“Your reprimand might have done some good. Maybe she’ll start to behave.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Craig shook his head. “Not for a second.”
     
Lori was waiting at Craig’s desk, one hand propped against the cold metal surface, fingers drumming the table incessantly, the other hand on her hip. As soon as she spotted him her eyes narrowed and she straightened up.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” she said as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Do what?” Craig lifted the cup to his lips, moving around her and sitting in his chair.
“You went running to Daddy Daly and tattled on me.”
“God, what am I, five? That might be your style, Lori, but it isn’t mine.”
Craig wasn’t sure how to interpret the silence that followed, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t look up until she sat down across from him, all the fire out of her eyes.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
“We need to go over all the old cases and review everything.”
Lori groaned. “Wasn’t there anything you learned last night that was helpful?”
He shook his head. “This guy is consistent. She was in the TV room, ironing. Her husband had just been called to work. One minute she was watching Cold Squad ; the next minute she was being forced down the hall with a loose blindfold over her eyes and a knife to her throat. He followed the exact same procedure he had on all the other occasions. Gagged her, tightened the blindfold, tied her hands and raped her. Same as before.”
“ Cold Squad ?”
“It’s still in syndication.”
“When did this rape happen?” Lori asked.
“July eighth.”
She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against her nose. “This just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Does it ever?”
Her eyes narrowed, her mouth twisting. “What I mean is, there’s no escalation. We have virtually the same report each time. Karen Chalmers, June fourteenth. Exact same, except she was already in her bedroom undressing when he turned up. Stephanie Bonnis, July twenty-fifth. Only thing different there was that she was unpacking groceries in her kitchen, and the perp made her leave her three-month-old son in his car seat screaming while he raped her. She begged him not to kill her or hurt her son and he hit her on the head.”
“But he still didn’t say anything. He just hit her. That’s very controlled. He wasn’t rattled by a crying baby. That rape happened at what, ten pm, after she got back from an emergency run to the grocery store, she said. Not something planned or part of her regular schedule.”
Lori propped her elbows against her desk, resting her chin on her hands. “So even the noise, late at night, didn’t seem to worry him.”
“Funny that she’d just come in from the side door. The front