Thank you TayNicole99 for the idea!! 🥰

Mickey's POV

I was shivering as I walked into the chapel, where a burst of heat made me feel like I was walking through fire. It was freezing outside but Blowfish had just fixed the heater in the chapel so I shook off my jacket. Mostly everyone was already there, as usual.

"There's something wrong with my chair," Tom commented, sitting in his chair and gripping the armrest while wiggling it back and forth. He was wearing an oversized brown blazer over his white shirt, and I could not imagine how hot he was getting in that.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked as I headed to my desk and placed my coat on the back of my chair.

"If I get in the chair and lean back—" he leaned back too far and the chair started to tip, "—oh, this ones gonna go," he said casually and he fell back. I heard the chair hit the floor with a thump followed by a groan.

"Quit messing around," I chuckled, standing up on my tip-toes to see him over the desks that were between us.

"I'm fine, by the way," Tom said as he was still in a sitting position on the fallen chair. "Frankly, your concern is getting embarrassing."

"Assignments!" Fuller called out and started making his rounds around the chapel, dropping Manila folders on our desks as he passed.

Tom scrambled up to his feet like nothing happened and nodded at Fuller charmingly when Fuller walked by. He took his folder and we opened them at the same time.

"Hey, you, beautiful girl to my right," he called out to me.

I smirked and looked up at him through my lashes. He was facing the wall so now I was to his right, when usually I'm right in front of him. "Yes?"

"Where are you going?" He grabbed the chair and set it back normally.

"Apple Valley High School," I said as I kept reading through my file. "Wow, I got a serial killer."

"No fair," Tom blew a raspberry. "I've just got a boring drug ring."

"They can't all be winners," I joked.

"You like those kinds of cases, don't you?"

"Yep."

"Why?" He asked.

"You know... I'll tell you what. I love it when serial killers have a fun little thing. Now, I don't approve of serial killers, but if you're gonna kill a bunch of people, you might as well have some fun with it."

"Go all the way?" He contributed to the dark humored conversation.

"Exactly."

"What's this guy's fun little thing?" Tom asked.

"Uh..." I flipped through the case. I don't usually feel anything personal towards things like this, but once I saw the crime scene photos of his previous victims, I knew I didn't want to tell Tom about this killers signature until I solved the case. It was so grotesque, and so intriguing in the most vulgar way, I had to save it until I had all the information. "I'll show you after."

He hid his little smirk. "Fine."

I got Fuller's attention while I shook the folder in the air and asked, "is this right?"

"I'm afraid so, Gregg. Girls are going missing left and right over at Apple Valley. Andrea Dunn went missing back in '82, she was only fifteen. She was buried at the Red River, found by a hiker in '87. We only know it is her because of her dental records. We have only found four bodies in the Red River already, at least seventeen students have gone missing since Andrea. Every victim has had brown hair, hazel eyes, and between 5'2-5'7. That's you, Gregg."

"Great," I said and chewed my gum. "Any suspect?"

"Metro's leads have all gone cold. They were looking into the principle of Apple Valley, but they found nothing on him. He moved to New York and the killings kept happening. They also looked into Rob Brewer, the janitor. He got locked up a few years back for marijuana. Comes with a sketchy past, but he was locked up for most of the murders. We looked into a few of the teachers too, all clean. One of the history teachers was looked into because girls that were going missing were his students, but he is an upstanding member of the community, a good family man, and had alibi's for each date of interest. Now, we know that this guy is working alone. He's probably quiet, and blends in."

"Okay," I said softly while I tried to memorize all that information so I didn't have to rework what has already been established. 

"I don't want to hear about anyone else going missing in the area, so hop on over there," Fuller advised. "You're dismissed."

I said goodbye to Tom, and he told me he loved me before he said goodbye too. Whenever I hear him say 'I love you', it reminds me that now I've got someone to lose.

We don't kiss when we are in the chapel, as per our relationship agreement we had to sign. We aren't supposed to have any sort of public display of affection while we are working. It wasn't that hard, considering that we were hiding our relationship for almost a year already.

I got to the school and befriended a girl named Tiffany. She was a very likely victim, and we looked a lot alike. Our eyes were similar, and our hair was the same. Some people thought we were related because of our looks and how I latched onto her, but we were quick to shut those rumors down. She had a few of her friends go missing over the course of the past few years, and only a couple of their bodies have been found but I was not given that much information about it. 

Tiffany came up to me after class and offered to drive me to her friends party that night. I agreed, and was able to run to the chapel to make some notes about my day in my folder and inform Fuller on my plans. Usually, we don't condone having the minors pick us up, but Fuller suggested that I give her his address so she didn't know where I really lived.

We did not really have a place to hide my car, so Fuller picked me up from my apartment to go to his place, and I had made arrangements with my neighbor to pick me up when I was done so I didn't have to wake up Fuller.

Waiting at Fuller's place, I was looking out the window as I waited for Tiffany to pull up. I fixed some bobby-pins that I had in my hair through the reflection in the window that supported the French braid I had.

Fuller walked into the living room and offered me some tea, which I took graciously.

"Thanks," I said, quickly taking a warm sip. It smelled delicious too. "And thanks for picking me up."

"Not a problem, Gregg."

"I wish we had cover houses," I said before taking another sip.

"We just don't have it in the budget," he stated.

I sighed, "yeah. I know." We never have anything in the budget.

Fuller asked, "what's your plan?"

"I hope I can extract some information from Tiffany and her friends, see why they are being targeted by the serial killer, other than fitting the victimology," I said. With my free hand I adjusted my necklace, a gold chain with a red heart. I got it at a flea market not too long ago.

Fuller nodded and the sound of the horn commenced. I peered out the window again and saw bright headlights from Tiffany's car.

"That's my ride," I said. I handed Fuller the mug and grabbed my jacket.

"Be careful, all right?" He said.

"I will," I promised.

As I walked out the door, he called out, "be safe!"

I turned to wave at him before twisting back to the car. I hopped in the passengers seat and Tiffany drove us to the party.

It wasn't so much a party as it was a small get together. It was Tiffany's friend group who were mourning their friends and supporting one another for the terrible circumstances. I was able to meet more students from the school and get their views and thoughts on the terrible situation that no one should ever have to go through.

It only lasted a few hours before Tiffany was ready to go. We got back to the car and started driving, and I asked, "what are your thoughts on what's been happening around the school?"

"I think that it must be someone from the community, because otherwise who would be able to get so many girls from my school? Maybe it's someone we know, because those girls are smart. My friends are real smart. They wouldn't just go off by themselves. They must have trusted whoever this guy is," she said as she pulled onto the highway.

"You seem to have put a lot of thought into this," I said. I think she was right.

She nodded. "I'm sure you would too if all your friends were disappearing one by one."

Suddenly, the car began to sputter. I asked, "what's happening?"

"I-I'm not sure," she said and squinted at her dashboard. "It says I don't have any gas."

"You don't have any gas?" I asked as she pulled off the road and turned on her hazard lights.

"I got gas yesterday... shit," she said, "this doesn't make any sense."

Stranded on the Evergreen Highway, we really did not have very many options. The deserted road was dark, with no buildings or any payphones nearby. I sighed and suggested that we walk to the nearest gas station.

"Do you know where one is?" She asked.

"I think there's one a couple miles ahead," I stated and we began walking along the side of the road in the dark. I crossed my arms over my chest, which made the sleeves of my grey sweatshirt bunch a bit. Her comment of getting gas yesterday was making me think... was there a leak in her gas tank? Did some siphon her gas? Something wasn't adding up.

After a couple minutes of us walking, she asked, "where did you say you are from?"

"Moved from California a few days ago. Why?"

"So how did you know that?" She asked.

"How did I know what?"

"That there is a gas station up ahead," she said.

I cleared my throat and said, "because I remember passing one on this road."

"Oh."

We kept walking, getting far enough away to make the car look like a small dot before a pair of dim headlights started approaching. Tiffany pointed it out, and suggested that we hitchhike.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, "it could be dangerous."

"Come on, whoever it is can drive us to the gas station and might be able to drive us back to the car. It'll probably be less than a ten minute drive."

"You never know who that guy is," I pointed out, "that's not very safe. Have you heard about Stranger Danger?"

"What are you, a cop? Relax. Is it worse than walking along the highway in the middle of the night for miles?"

I was a little shocked about how nonchalant Tiffany was about asking to hitchhike while there was a murderer on the loose, killing her friends and classmates. I wanted to believe in her confidence and that I was overthinking it, but it's my job to do that.

The dark blue pick-up truck pulled over before I could answer and he unrolled his window. We approached the window and I saw that he had a thick brown mustache, and wore a thick plaid jacket. He looked young, but still older than me. He had big eyes, which made him appear trustworthy.

"You girls in trouble?" He asked us.

"Our car broke down back there," Tiffany told the man naively. She squinted at him and said, "hey, Mr. Ray!"

He smiled back. "Tiff, I thought I recognized your car back there. Come on in, I can give you a lift," he offered and unlocked his car doors. He looked like a friendly man, but every instinct in my body told me not to trust him.

I grabbed Tiffany's shoulder before she went in. She looked back at me confused, so I said gruffly, "just take us to the nearest payphone." I tried to seem intimidating. That's a hard feat to accomplish when I was dressed in a pair of tight jeans posing as a high school student with no gun for a defense.

"Who's this?" He asked Tiffany.

"This is Michelle, she's just moved to the school. Michelle, this is Mr. Ray, he was my history teacher freshman year," Tiffany explained. Even though she knew this man, something still didn't feel right.

"I'll take you to my home. It's closer than any payphone or gas station. You can use my line for free," he said.

Tiffany slipped out of my grasp and climbed into the car. "Come on, Michelle. It'll be quick."

I took a shaky breath before I went in after her. It was a terrible decision, but our options were very limited and there was no way I would let her go by herself. From what I've learned about Tiffany, is she is very strong minded, there would be no talking her out of it.

"How did you know we needed gas?" I asked him. I was suspicious, but I tried to sound casual.

"Because gas stations always have pay phones, and you asked for one. Close the door, will you, sweetheart?" He asked, looking at me. I clenched my jaw and leaned to slam the door shut. He pulled onto the road and asked us more questions about ourselves. He pulled off the main road and started driving through the woods, eventually making his way to a long driveway to a house. Tiffany was completely comfortable, because she knew this man. I couldn't ask her anything about him, because I was just a foot away from him. All that I could do was blindly trust him.

He urged us to come inside because of the bears that live nearby in the woods, and we quickly followed him in. I peered around, and immediately noticed that other than teaching, he is a hunter. He had the heads of his kills put on the wall like trophies, and he had a fur throw on the couch.

"Where is your phone?" I asked, trying to find it on the wall or on a table. I was going to call Fuller to pick us up and have him pose as my uncle.

He didn't answer me, but I found it on the wall near the kitchen. I walked over to it and picked up the receiver and pressed it to my ear so I could dial Fuller's number, but then I stopped. Instead of hearing the irritating dial tone, I heard nothing. Complete silence. As if the phone line had been cut.

I heard a small thump behind me, and I turned around to see the man setting Tiffany's unconscious body carefully on the ground, cradling her head in his arm while holding a rag to her nose and mouth.

"Shit," I spat and dropped the phone as I tried to run. I headed straight for the back door, and tried desperately to open it but it was locked with a thick padlock. I quickly pulled on it, to see if it happened to be unlocked and to try to get my fingerprints on anything I could. When I turned around to try to find another way to escape, he was right next to me.

He held a knife in his hand, and it was pointed straight at me. My eyes darted from the knife, to the rag, and to his evil eyes over and over. I said to him with a shaky voice, "you don't have to do this. This is your choice, you can let me go."

A little smile curled up the sides of his lips and his eyes had a cast of darkness to them. All he did was look at me and he whispered, "run."

And I did.

I couldn't push him out of my way because he was wielding the knife. I grabbed the knife blade, held it, and bolted away from him. My only hope was to race down the hall, and I found the bathroom. I jumped in and locked the door behind me. I left a handprint of blood on the white bathroom door which started to trickle down to the doorknob.

I spun around and went straight to the window behind the toilet. I could hear Ray screaming at me through the door and he was banging on the wood, trying to break it down. I was frantic, but my heart soared when I finally got the window to slide open.

I stood up on the toilet and I didn't have to look back to know that he had already broken down the door. I got crouched down to slip my body through the opening, but his hands wrapped around my body and he yanked me back into the room.

I screamed, and the window slammed shut.

____________________________

Tom's POV

Yesterday morning, the day after Fuller gave everyone their assignments, he called all of us at home to say that he was sick and not to come in for the table, and instead we were to report to our assignment. Being able to sleep-in a little during the week day was great, but I tried calling Mickey and she wasn't answering. I figured that she was taking advantage of the once in a blue moon early morning that we were given off, and was probably sleeping.

I arrived at the chapel, and I greeted all my coworkers as they came in through the door. I kept looking back at the door with every noise I heard, expecting Mickey to walk through. It's been almost two days since I had seen her, and I missed her.

"Table time, people, let's go," Fuller announced, emerging from his office.

"Mickey's not here yet," I pointed out and took a bite of the granola bar I brought for breakfast.

"Huh." Fuller clicked his tongue and checked his new watch. "We will give her five more minutes."

Fuller went back into his office and the group was starting to buzz with conversations of their own, and I would respond with empty remarks or gestures to prove that I was listening, when in fact I wasn't. My attention was to the door, and my anxiety was building with every passing minute that Mickey didn't show up. Finally, I grabbed the phone and dialed her phone number in case she was sleeping in, but I kept getting her voicemail.

I called again, and again, and again. I hung up before I had to leave a voicemail so I wouldn't fill up her voicemail box. The last time I tried to call her, I ended up leaving a message. "Hey, when I call nine times in a row it means you should pick up." I chuckled a little and scratched my head. "I'm just kidding. Fuller called a meeting so I was just seeing if you were at home... I haven't heard from you in a bit. Love you. Call me back, bye."

"What's going on, Tom?" Doug asked me, and my team stopped their side conversations.

I hung up and looked over my shoulder at them to ask, "have any of you guys heard from Mickey?"

Doug, Ioki, and Judy all shook their heads. That did not inspire me with confidence.

"What's wrong?" Doug asked.

"I dunno... I just have a feeling," I said, unable to explain it.

"Ready?" Fuller asked, coming out again.

"She's still not here," I stated.

"It's not like her to miss a meeting," Doug added.

Fuller frowned. "I'll call the school. I'm sure she just forgot that we were meeting today."

Fuller left and Judy whispered, "she's never forgotten before."

"Come on, guys, I'm sure she's okay," Ioki said in a low voice.

"She would have checked in with me, I know it," I said. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, making a sucking noise to distract myself.

Fuller came back out after calling the school. He announced, "she was reported absent yesterday."

"No one has seen her since yesterday?" Judy asked.

"It's been twenty-four hours," I pointed out.

"More than that," Doug said.

"She's a professional, I'm sure that Mickey is digging into the case," Fuller said.

"Exactly, she's a professional. So she would have let us know what she was doing. Or, at least you," I said.

Fuller stopped to think, realizing that I was right. He said, "I'll tell Briody about it. But, I want you guys to get back to work. I'll let you know when I find out anything."

We all reported back to our assignment, but my mind was set elsewhere. I continued to fiddle with my pen between my fingers, and my thumbnail managed to find its way to my teeth. I wanted to jump out of the chapel and drive by her building to see if her car was still there, and check her apartment. I hoped that she wasn't in any trouble, but the nagging feeling in my heart tugged at me. Where is she? Is she safe? Is she alone?

I was snapped back into reality when I felt Judy rubbing my shoulder and I looked back at her. She said, "don't worry, Tom. She'll be okay."

I nodded to her and watched her leave the chapel to report to her assignment. I hoped she was right.

____________________________

Mickey's POV

I felt light headed as the blackness slipped away from my blurry vision. I was blinking to try to see clearly, and there was a ringing in my ears that eventually morphed into the rhythmic sounds of breathing. I scrunched my nose at a metallic, mildew smell that tickled my nose and I couldn't help but groan as I woke up.

My cheek was pressed against a cold concrete floor. I tried to use my hands to help sit myself up, but something was keeping my hands from coming forward. I looked up to see a support beam that extended from the ceiling down to the floor, and my arms were hidden behind it. I tried to pull my hands forward again, and instead I heard the jingle of metal. I was handcuffed around the basement post behind me.

I managed to sit up and I rested the back of my head against the post and closed my eyes. However, the sound of whimpering distracted me. I looked toward the other side of the room, and saw another post with Tiffany handcuffed to it in a similar fashion as me. Her fluffy brown hair was wrapped in a knotted bun on top of her head, and her eyes were red and she had dark makeup smeared on her cheeks as she had been sobbing and hyperventilating. She looked at me with terror, but she couldn't call out to me because she had duct tape over her lips.

I tried to speak, but I had duct tape too. I managed to spit and slip my tongue over my lips until I got enough moisture to release the bond of the glue. As soon as I got it to release from one side of my mouth, I asked Tiffany, "are you all right?"

I knew the answer. She's wasn't all right. We had been kidnapped. She shook her head and I throughly and clearly guided her on how to release the duct tape.

As soon as the tape was off, she hyperventilated before she said, "he's gonna kill us. I know it, I know it, he's gonna kill us."

"Tiffany, I need you to relax, okay? Can you take some deep breaths with me?" I asked her and waited for her reaction. She nodded and I counted down from 10 to guide her through some deep breaths to help calm her down.

I tried to remain as calm as I could, and to be honest, the breathing exercises helped me too. Especially after seeing smears of old blood on the basement floor. All the training I have ever done could not have prepared me for this. I wasn't a hostage negotiator, but I had to do a little training on it at the academy. But not enough.

I glanced down at my feet and saw my thick slouch socks instead of my white sneakers. Tiffany wasn't wearing hers either. He took our shoes so we couldn't run away. I squeezed my hands into fists to try to slip them out of the cuffs, but it was no use. The metal was rubbing harshly against my skin, and the palm of my left hand stung when I balled it up. The memory of grabbing the blade of the knife he was threatening me with was brought to the surface, and I realized just how real that nightmare was.

I looked around at the basement, seeing a set of wooden stairs that led up to the ground level of the home. I've studied enough crime to know that nothing good ever happens in basements. Dirty clothing, puddles of acidic water, porn magazines, trash, and rusty chains littered the basement. It was disgusting, incredibly cold, and we both got quiet when we heard creaks of someone walking on the floor above.

"Mickey... how are you going to get yourself out of this one?" I whispered to myself. I was trying to find anything that could help us get out.

I had no idea what we were up against, but I knew that it wasn't going to be easy.