Coffee takes a different form in this city. It has become more of a need than just something that sounds nice, or else the ice of winter will just cut right through you. Back home the prehistoric percolator that brewed the stations morning joe made coffee to match the quiet town around it. Nothing special. Plain black, extra strong coffee. Here, in New York it could take a person years to try each and every coffee they've cooked up.

"So that's a no?" Officer Daniels holds out a clear plastic cup with a lid the shape of a dome. I stand frozen while holding a pen and notepad mid-scribble, staring into the frilly whipped topping and chocolate sprinkles.
"Uh, No." My head shakes while I continue to scribble into my notepad. The corners of my mouth turning up just a little.

"Oh come on, Detective." Daniels teases, nudging the frozen coffee drink further toward me.
"That.." I tap the lid with my chewed pen, "Is not coffee." I smile and shake my head. "Coffee should be hot. Piping hot, Daniels." I assure him as I pull my desk chair out and sit down.
"One day you'll give in, and you'll never stop thanking me." He sits across from me at his own desk. The kid can't be older than twenty one fresh from the academy. He was, as it has been said many times around the station, the most promising cadet the academy has ever seen.

I'm not sure exactly what that entails in New York though. In my small town, it took a few weeks of training at a facility that resembled more of a backyard with an obstacle course made of junk yard scrap. Here, I'm sure the training is more treacherous, more demanding, and a hell of a lot harder. Daniels is on the fast track to make detective, and here I sit across from the dope watching over my laptop doing real police work while he loudly slurps a diabetic coma in a cup.

"Find anything on, Duncan?" I ask, half annoyed.
"Not yet." He tosses the cup into the trash beside his desk. His desk. Only detectives get a personal desk, what makes this kid so special? Or right. . . His dad is the captain.
Daniels scrolls his index finger with the computer mouse, leaning slightly forward. Word around the station is that, Daniels has already been promoted, but the Captain won't turn over his shield until he cracks a case. So he's been assigned to be my part time partner, the other half of his time he has to spend on the beat.

"Think I'll go have another talk with the fraternity, maybe make my way around campus. One of the kids had to have seen or heard something." I tell him, shrugging on my coat. Daniels begins to follow my lead, standing and ready to leave.
"Let's go." He falls into stride with confident wide steps, standing an inch taller than me. "I don't think we'll have much luck though." We push through the heavy doors and make our way to the black sedan at the far end of the parking garage. Our heavy steps echo around us, bouncing around the concrete.
"Why's that?" I turn my head to him, standing at the open car door.

"It's a small campus, nobody wants to be the one that gave up their king." He shrugs and we get in.
"Their king?" We pull out onto the busy street.

"Yeah. Did you go to college?" Daniels shifts his body turning to me.

"No." I answer. The word burning out of my mouth like a low growl.

"Well, I did. There's always that one guy on campus that every guy wants to be, and every girl wants to be with. He throws the wildest parties, gets whatever girl he wants. They all look up to him like he's a hero."

"A hero, Daniels... Really? A hero doesn't chain girls up in a cellar and rape them." The words spit.

"No, no, no. I don't mean him in particular. I mean that he is that guy around campus." He explains.
"This is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack." He groans as we pull to the curb outside an old brown stone. A faded white Omega symbol hangs crooked above the front door. From the sedan I can see two kids sitting on the steps outside. Thick smoke boils around them while their heads pull back and laugh.
"Here goes nothing." Daniels reaches for the handle.
"Wait." I stop him. Daniels eyes me curiously.
"What?"
"Let's just sit here for a while. I want to see if anything happens."
What?" He says again, confused. "They're smoking pot. We have to bust them"
"No. Daniels. We don't." I shut the engine off. "If we bust those guys they'll never talk. We need them to trust us. You know how we do that?" My voice rises an octave. Daniels eyes widen just a bit and intrigued.
"We make them think that we trust them." I tap my temple with my finger.
"Oh." He finally understands, "Makes sense, but how?"
"Like this." I open the door. "I'll do the talking. You just watch and learn."

At the sight of, Daniels uniform the guys sitting outside Omega house hurriedly attempt to put out the joint, and look casual.
"Morning officers." One of them coughs out.
"Morning." I fail to smile. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about, Avery Duncan." I keep my tone firm and to the point. The boys shift on their heels looking back and forth to one another.
"Uh.." one of them looks to his shoes, "What kind of questions?"
"Guys. . " I scoff a half laugh. "I know that you know your president is being investigated for the kidnapping, and rape of a girl on campus."
"Chloe Thomas." The other kid nods. "Yeah it's a small campus, everyone knows what's going on." I can never tell if people up here in the north are being sincere or not. I think it's their constant condescending tone. Maybe I haven't met thet right New Yorkers in the year that I've been here.

"Good. Then maybe you can tell us what you remember from Halloween night?" I press them, flipping my notepad open I give my pen a little click. My forehead creases. Daniels stays silent by my side eyeing them.
"I don't remember much." The shorter one says. His laundered and pressed clothes scream daddys money. The kind of kid whose parents taught the importance of fashion over being a man; the proper way to eat using too many forks and spoons. Pointless life skills.
"That's too bad." I look to, Daniels. "Do you remember smoking a joint just a few minutes ago? I'm sure you do considering that the remaining half of it is in your friends pocket there." I raise a brow at their panicking faces.
"Look. . ." I step closer to the pair. "I don't care about your petty weed, okay?" I nod, willing them to nod with me until they follow along. "What I care about is the girl who was chained in that cellar." I point across the street to the run down brown stone where I rushed to the scene two weeks ago. Their eyes widen as my voice rises. Something like a demon wants to rage inside me, grab these snobby runts by there popped collars and shake the hell out of them. I want to scream why didnt't you help her in their smug faces. But I can't.

"I'm sorry detectives." One of them almost sounds like he cares, "We don't know anything."
I give them both my card and assure them that anything they want to get off of their chest will do nothing but help an innocent girl, but they don't care.

"What happened out there?" Daniels asks back in the sedan.
"How could they not know? They had to have known, look how close these houses are. I know she must have screamed, and I know someone heard her."

I turn the ignition over and let the heater vents blow over me. I could really use a day in the country to clear my head.
"Guess I'll take you back to the station." I grumble, and take a sip of black coffee from the cup holder. The kind of coffee a man is supposed to drink.
"What brought you to New York?" Daniels randomly asks, breaking a cloud of silence. "I don't mean to pry. ."

"Then don't." I cut him off and take another sip. Daniels sits back into the front seat looking annoyed by my grumpiness, and equally defeated. The silence returns, and he attempts to turn on the radio, which I click right back off.
"If we're going to work together then we have to find a common ground." He blurts out. "Look.." He turns to me, "I know that nobody respects me. They all think I'm where I am because of my dad, but it's not true."
"Oh yeah?" I laugh. "Then please explain how a kid that hasn't been on the beat for no more than two years has already been promised a detective sheild? No cop I've ever known has been part time detective and part time beat cop. You have to pay your dues; bust a few hundred hookers, petty drug dealers, write countless traffic tickets. You don't just become a detective, Daniels. You earn it."
The rant spews out of my mouth faster and meaner than I wanted it to, and I instantly feel almost bad about it.

"I know." His face falls. "Truth is, I want this more than anything. Okay sure, maybe my dad does have a little to do with it, but I want to bring this bastard, Avery down. Not just because it means getting my sheild, but because this is what I've always wanted to do. I need to get this guy off the street. I can deal with the snickering behind my back and the disrespect, but I can't deal with letting this guy slip through the cracks."

His face is firm and full of truth, I don't know what it is but I think I underestimated this kid.
"Well." I shift the car into park outside the station. "Tomorrow then. We'll pick up where we left off on campus. Maybe try the Dean, Chloe mentioned a coffee house a lot we'll start there."
Daniels nods, and heads into the station to take up his next shift.

__________________________________________________________________________________

I drive aimlessly around campus, half dazed and exhausted. The sun sinks lazily behind the tall buildings, and the students seem to be done with their classes for the day as they file out of the doors and on to the sidewalks. The sedan creeps down each street. I watch closely at each face, each clinging books and instruments to their chests in defence of the wind and cold. Each one not giving a single thought to the fact that a girl, an innocent girl was kidnapped, chained up, and tortured on their pretty little campus. They'll never give him up. The thought that, Daniels was right annoys me. I'll have to come in at a different angle to get these kids to talk.

The creeping of the sedan tires slowly stop at the curb for the sixth time today. I'm not supposed to investigate without my part-time partner, but I work better alone. It's part of the reason I left home and came to the big city. Small towns pump out nothing but small town crime. I wanted more action than pulling over an elderly woman for driving without a blouse on. Seemed that the woman had slipped away from her daughter that had been caring for her, and drove right down Main Street bare breasted with the windows rolled all the way down. It was a running joke at the station for months until I just couldn't sit around anymore. I wanted action. The kind that takes your mind off of things. Things that won't let you sleep at night.

I didn't know that a person could be so twisted. A pang of anger and pain crushes into me when I think about the girl. Chloe Thomas. I seem to be the only one at the station who believes her. I decide to drive back to the station. Maybe sitting at my desk, alone in the office will help me connect some dots.

"I don't care, Duncan!" Captain Daniels graveling voice booms along with his fist hard on the top of his desk. I can hear him from my desk in his office behind frosty glass, scolding Detective Duncan, Averys brother.
"You can't be on this case. He's your brother for Gods sake!" The captain harshly explains.
"I know, and I understand, Sir." Duncan pleads. "But nobody knows him better than I do. You have to put me on this case. Please."
"No. Go home, and that's an order. I don't want to see you back in this station for two weeks."
"Sir. . ."
"Two. Weeks." He cuts him off. Through the frosted glass Captain Daniels finger points directly to, Duncan. He means business. The door slams open, jarring the glass and Duncan emerges red faced and fuming.
"What are you looking at?" He says to me but I ignore him. I have work to do.

I glance to the captains office, and watch as his shadow spreads a blanket over his office couch and tucks in for the night. Same here I think, looking back to the screen. My eyes begin to blur, the words on the too bright screen bleed together. My back slumps and I squeeze at my eyes on the bridge of my nose. The sleek office chair bounces slightly while I sit back. My ink pen rises to my mouth and I nip at the end of it with my front teeth with my hand tucked hard into my underarm, the other folded over with the pen held to my mouth. I need focus.

Why is everyone protecting you? I stare at, Averys class photo from high school. A cliche graduation, fake posed, raise your head slightly to the left photo with a black curtain background. His teeth too white and beaming in a stretched smile like he was caught just before a belly grabbing laugh. Who were you back then? How many girls?
I lean into the keyboard and search the police records for suicides. I scroll down hundreds of names, finally I type the name, Iris into the search. Her file opens and I scan over the details.

"Do you ever go home?" Daniels catches me off guard and sits at his desk in front of mine. "I see that my father is sleeping at the station again." He nods to the captains office, "Must be another fight with my mother." He whispers to himself, turning his computer screen on.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, still reading through the file.
"Same as you." His dark hair dissappears in the darkness behind him. The station lights are off, only the faint glow of a small desk lamp lights the open sqaud room and the glare of our computers light our faces.
"I done some thinking after we talked to those frat guys today." He leans closer, keeping his voice low. "Avery didn't just do this on a whim. He planned it. The chains, the vacant house with a cellar, I don't think he seen her at that party and just took her away." His brows crease and his lowered voice grows tense. "I think he chose her, I think he planned the whole thing over time."
"We already know this, Daniels." I interject.
"Okay, but what I'm getting at, is there has to be more victims. You don't just become this good at covering your tracks with your first. It takes practice. More victims."
I sit back in my chair again and nibble at my pen.

"Chloe mentioned a flash drive. She said that it has pictures, videos of dozens of girls."
"What? Why didn't I hear about this?" He sits up.
"Chloe...She was raging, and ranting. The captain heard all of it but he thinks it's a goose chase. We have what we need to put him away for the kidnapping the night we found her, and the rape. The DNA should come back on him too when the baby is born...If, if the baby is born." My words float like inner thoughts wafting through the air, not even directed to, Daniels.
"Then why is he not behind bars right now?" He clicks his mouse.
"Because, Daniels, he posted bail and nobody wants to beleive that the Golden Boy is a serial rapist. We need that flash drive."
"Can you stop calling me that?" His lips press together.
"What?"
"Daniels. You call me Daniels. My name is Luke, everytime someone calls me that they think of my father. I have to make a name for myself or I'll never get any respect."
I think on his words. I guess I never thought of it that way, but I can understand living in another persons shadow. How it can feel impossible to prove yourself no matter how hard you try. He hands me a white coffee cup from his desk.
"Here." It thuds and swishes around until the liquid falls back flat. "Drink up." He sips from his own mug, "Don't worry." He sips again, "It's hot."

"Have you talked to her since she left?" He prods while I continue to read, Iris's file.
"No, but tell me something." I take a drink. Too weak, but at least it's hot. "What do you know about the suicide on campus? Girl named Iris."
"Not much. It was on the news though."
"Hmm." I rub the back of my neck, "Says here that she was pregnant. Chloe said that, Avery killed her. How much do you want to bet that, Avery was the father of that baby?"
Luke searches the file himself and scans over it.
"No foul play. There was no evidence that anyone else was involved." He reads aloud, "Listen, I know that this is a huge case. . ." He trails off. "But Duncan's father donates more money to the force than anyone in New York. He single handedly funded our weapons. The entire force is tiptoeing around this. That's why we have to have solid evidence that there are other victims. We have to find the others. We have to find at least one more, someone has to come forward if we're going to get a warrant for that flash drive."

I stare at him for a moment and I can't hide it anymore. I crack the smallest of a smile.
"You know something?" I cough out a laugh. "You're not so bad, Luke."
"You can save the apology." He stands and throws on his coat. "Come on."
"Where are you going? It's two in the morning."
"We are going to find another victim. I done some digging. Seems that, Avery has changed schools four times." He explains a little to excited. "The first time he was kicked out of a private school in Jersey. It's a few hours drive so if we leave now we can maybe get the truth about why he was kicked out. How much do you want to bet that it had something to do with a girl?" His face goes smug before getting into the sedan.

*************************

We sit in the running car watching from across the street.
"Jesus." Luke blows, "Can you imagine going to a school like that? Looks like something out of a horror movie."
"Catholic school." I admire the pointed arches, and ornate details of the castle-like bulding. "I think it's nice."
Luke looks amused at me. "Well how about that." He smiles, "Sands actually enjoys something. Wanted to be an architect?" He nudges my arm.
"No. I scratch my temple. "My father did."

A giant bell resting high in a tower above the school rings like church bells. We make our way inside in search of the main office.
"Excuse me?" I say to a passing girl with thick black curls and huge headphones around her neck like little bowls. "Which way to the office?" The girl holds heavy books in her arms, looking back a forth between, Daniels and me. Her mouth opens half way to speak but she smile instead.
"I'll take you." She says and nudges her way through the crowded hall. The place smells like old books and wood polish.
"Right here." She leads us to a door with the word Office hanging outward over the door like an irish pub sign. "Thanks." Daniels tells the girl before she rushes off, and fades into the moving hallway.

"Detective Sands." I show the woman at the front desk my badge. The woman, over weight and too cheerfull looks into the badge like it's a mystic creature she's never seen before. "This is my associate..." Daniels elbows my ribs. "Sorry. My parter, Luke Daniels."

The woman's eyes round, "What can I do for you?" She smiles nervously.
"We need to speak with the principle. Or whoever is in charge." Daniels answers for me. I side eye him. "We'll need to speak with them right away." I add with a nod. The receptionist looks to a half open door behind her then back to me.
"One minute please." She stands, "Let me see if Mr. Gordon is free." She pops her head into the open door and whispers sound from inside the room.
"You can go on in." She finally says, sitting back at her tiny desk and tries to look busy.

"What can I do for you, Detective?" Mr. Gordon, a middle aged man with a round belly and snow white hair sits behind a dark wooden desk. We take a seat in the two wing back chairs in his office. Hard leather the color of rust.
"We need to ask you a few questions about a former student." I tell him.
"Okay?" He folds his fingers together on his desk. "Go ahead." His forehead twitches.
"Avery Duncan." I begin. "As we understand, Duncan was expelled from your fine school here. We need to know why. What happened?"
Gordon shifts slightly in his seat, and sits back while his face falls.

"He was a bad apple." He finally says, shaking his head with a sigh.
"Can you specify."
"From the moment that kid got here he was nothing but trouble. First day here he got into a fist fight with a boy in the dining room. It was ugly, he put the poor kid in the hospital for two days with broken ribs."
A fire burns at the pit of my stomach. Finally someone who will talk.
"What happened after that?" I open my notepad.
"Nothing. Kids parents didn't want to press charges. After that he was a bit of a loner, all the other kids were too scared to talk to him. I almost felt sorry for him until I caught him peeping through a hole into the girls locker room. I brought his parents in about it and they didn't care. Tried to throw some money into my face to pay me off so he could stay. I run a tight ship here." He stands and steps to a small shelf with framed photos. "I gave him six weeke to get his act together. But one night we had a school dance. A winter wonderland kind of thing. I was walking down the hall when a young girl came running past me, her dress was torn."

He takes a photo from the shelf and hands it over to me. A beautiful girl holding a large trophy smiles wide, and proud. Her black hair as familliar as her face.
"I know her." I think outloud, "She brought us to the office." Daniels adds, "She's still a student?"
"Not a student anymore." Gordon answers. "Teachers aid. She wouldn't tell me what happened that night. But I do know that she was, Avery's date. I followed her to the dorms and tried to find out what happened but she wouldn't speak. She only cried. I asked if, Avery had hurt her and she nodded yes. I can't tell you what exactly happened but it was the last straw. I had to expell the kid. Why do you ask? What's he done?"

I close the notepad, and swipe my nose. "Mr. Gordon thank you for talking to us." I dodge the question, "This is my card. Expect a trip to New York soon. I'm assuming you'd be willing to tell this to a jury?" His eyes widen.
"Mr. Duncan is more of a monster than you could have imagined." I confess before leaving the office to find the girl. "Oh," I pop back into his office. "What was the girls name, and where can we find her?"

"Holly. You can find her in the music room." He says from behind his desk again pouring liqour into a crystal glass.