Holden awoke next to a woman he didn't know. A fission of panic ran through him as he realized it wasn't his girlfriend, Mandy.

He closed his eyes and remembered the woman from the night before. Her blonde hair covered a soft pink pillow case he didn't recognize. His eyes darted to his clothes on the floor and the door to her bedroom.

She turned over and opened her eyes. "Good morning handsome."

Holden guessed she didn't remember his name. It made things fairas since he didn't remember hers. He cleared his throat.  "G'morning."

He stood up and reached for his boxers. "Thanks for last night."

"That's it?" she asked, disappointed.

A corner of his mouth tilted upward. "What else did you expect?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe some breakfast? An arrangement to meet again. That sort of thing," she complained as she began to get dressed as well.

Holden had his back to her and grimaced. He checked his watch before turning his head to see her smoothing down her hair. "Yeah, I'm going to get some breakfast. Did you want coffee or juice?"

"Juice, please," she said smiling at him, the petulant tone from earlier now gone from her voice.

"I'll be right back," Holden said as he checked for his wallet and keys.

"I'll be waiting," she called out to him as he exited her apartment.

"Yeah, you will," Holden mumbled as he pulled out his phone and blocked her number. She hadn't been any help in getting information on Deidra Hamilton, the Jacuzzi victim. When he tried to cut their dinner short, she insisted on him coming over.

He should've declined but he let her convince him otherwise. He sent a quick text to his girlfriend, letting Mandy know he would be working a double-shift. She immediately texted him a message to get some rest when he could.

Holden stopped at a coffee shop and picked up a coffee for himself. He called his partner, Vicki Cruz.

"Hey, Cruz. Any news?"

"Nada. Did you get any information on Deidra Hamilton?" she asked.

"Nope. I struck out too. Although," he said as he thought of Dillon, "I may have a lead that I can follow up on."

"Well, follow up quickly. We need to catch this guy."

Holden took a sip of his hot coffee and hung up the phone. He thought about the woman he left behind that morning and wondered how long it would take for her to realize he wasn't coming back.

"I'm such a jerk," he hissed, thinking of Mandy. Vicki would kick his ass off she found out he'd cheated on her friend. It wasn't even the first time. Holden shook his head and headed to his apartment to shower before going to work.

Ignoring the background noise of people enjoying the park, Lucy licked her lips and took a step forward. A tree hid his face but she knew she found him. She took another step as a Frisbee came flying in front of her and the woman in blue.

Lucy squeaked as she jumped back.

"Sorry!" a young boy shouted at her. "Can you throw it back, please?"

Lucy looked back to the bushes.

He was gone.

Disappointed, she picked up the Frisbee and tossed it back. Her eyes flitted back to the bushes before she made her way closer to them.

A part of her brain shouted at her to stop and think but Lucy moved forward until she could touch the foliage the man hid behind. She pushed back some of the branches and stepped onto the spot where she thought O had just stood.

Thinking of O, she walked along the dirt path behind the bushes, leading to the back entrance of a small art school.

Lucy tried pulling on the double doors but they were locked. "Did he lock them from inside?" she asked herself.

She ambled toward the back of the building until she saw the paved cement of the parking lot. It was void of people. She looked around, hoping to see the mysterious figure again. A thought occurred to her that this woman named Grace may be in trouble. Could she be his next victim?

She raced back to the park, looking for the woman in the blue dress.

She too was gone.

"Why is everyone just disappearing today?" Lucy cried out to no one in particular. She looked around for other art students but didn't see anyone.

As she made her way to the bust stop, she couldn't stop thinking about the image of the man in the bushes. Was he in love with Grace? Was the woman in blue really Grace? Maybe it was a different Grace? Lucy closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. Had she really heard correctly? Was that woman really Grace?

Once she arrived home, Lucy went straight to the study and pulled out the green journal. She opened it up to where she left off. When she saw the familiar handwriting, a subtle warmth filled her. She licked her lips and turned the page to the next entry.

10/23

Salutations, my dear friend. I fear I have been a bit obsessed today and this obsession has caused me to do something I have never done before. Before you ask, I shall elaborate. For you may possibly be the only one who understands me.

Today I saw my saving Grace. She was beautiful as always. At times I strongly believe there is something beautiful to be found in being ordinary. Perhaps there are some who will argue that point with me but I stand firm upon this conviction, my friend. Being ordinary is a beautiful thing and I would gladly give up my beast in order to be so.

Today,  she drew something strange. It was an angel with broken wings, bandaged up in gauze. Behind the angel lurked a devilish creature nipping at the angel's feet. What do you suppose this picture means?

I must find out my friend. I watched her for thirty minutes today. I could feel the same breeze caressing my face, lightly moving her hair. When she stood up, I followed her to the bus stop. I do not know why, but the beast didn't want to lose her. Her scent caught in his nose. Her image caught in my soul.

My saving Grace departed the bus at a stop near the hospital. A sensation I had never truly experienced enveloped me,  my dear friend. I can only describe it as worry. Questions raced through my mind as I thought of reasons why she would be at the hospital.

My questions were soon answered as I saw her go into a hospital room. I did not witness what happened between her and the person in the room but after she left the room, it was clear to me that she had been crying. The beast immediately became protective of my Grace. A strong desire to know who was in that room filled it. And without thinking, my legs brought me inside. I found myself face-to-face with an elderly woman.

Beside her stood death.

I have seen death many times. I have been death for many. And yet...I found myself entranced by this old woman who was clearly in pain. Her exit would cause my Grace sadness. No one should cause such an emotion in my Grace.

No one.

I began to ponder if I should help my Grace by putting the older woman out of her misery. Would she see it as a blessing? Would she be upset by it? Would she cry over it? Would my killing this woman have such an impact as to make my Grace cry? I cannot tell a lie. The thought excited me.

Not the thought of taking a life, my dear friend. The thought of causing her to cry. Of changing her life. I am still a stranger to her but I have the ability to devastate her. Is this a strength every person holds in their grasp? Perhaps not. The weak would not dare to use it. Only the strong and unfeeling are able to. Only the people with beasts inside them dare wield this kind of power.

So, my dear friend, I helped the old woman pass not because I wanted her life but because I wanted to see my Grace affected by my actions. I admit I cannot stop smiling at the thought of her crying because of something I did. All I needed was the help of a pillow.

I will keep you posted of any new events.

Yours until death, O.

Lucy closed the journal and shuddered. Was he such a monster? This was not an entry that she could relate to at all. Still, the idea that he could make an impact on a virtual stranger
Seemed profound to her. It was like those commercials were people pay forward kindness. Except O wasn't paying forward kindness. He paid forward death.

Lucy put the journal away as she felt too queasy to read any further.

"That poor old woman," she whispered. A voice in the back of her head responded with, "He put her out of her misery. She'd been in pain."

Lucy wasn't sure if she agreed with the voice in her head. Her phone rang, getting her from her thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Lucy. It's me, Donna."

"Hi Donna. What's up?"

"Sorry to ask but I was wondering if you could help me again. The church is trying to have a fundraiser for that poor girl who was murdered. To help pay her funeral costs and such. Would you be able to help out with it? I already asked Harry and some of his friends to collect more furniture," Donna went on.

"Harry?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah, Harry. He helped us last time, remember?"

Lucy hadn't remembered but a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Harry's going to be helping out at this fundraiser?"

"Yes, I just said that." Donna chuckled.

"I'll be there."

Donna gave Lucy the time and the place and Lucy jotted the information down. She planned to talk to Harry. Perhaps he would remember where the desk came from. If so, maybe she'd find another clue in finding O.