Dawson continued to drive around all over the place, looking for the perfect place to get rid of the body where it would never be found.

He was searching his head for an idea when he remembered the stream that ran from one side of town to the other. The body would float away and eventually sink and no one would ever know anything. It was truly brilliant.

Parking up on the road side, he hopped out of the drivers side and slammed the door shut before walking around around get the body that was wrapped inside the rug, out of the trunk.

Grabbing hold of it, he slung it over his shoulder and began trekking through the muddy banks towards the edge where the stream was running wild. Waiting for the gentle summer breeze to pass, he got ready to throw the body as far as he could. Once the water had stilled, he made the move. Swinging it once. Twice. Three times. Then he let go on the third swing and watched eagerly as it dropped into the water.

Rubbing his mucky hands together he came to the conclusion that he should also dispose of anything that items of clothing that he was wearing if they were bloodstained. Unbuttoning his blue shirt, he took it off and dumped it in one of the more hidden areas around the stream. He repeated the same actions with his t-shirt before kneeling down, now with just his jeans on, and dunking his bloodied hands into the chilled, green tinted water.

Throughly scrubbing at his hands, the remaining evidence slowly began to wash away. His plan, he thought, was genius, and it was all going absolutely swell.

********
Sat at the dining table in the kitchen with her mother, Erica twirled another load of spaghetti around her fork before bringing it to her mouth.

This evening, dinner was a little more quieter than usual. Although it had been that way ever since they'd moved from Conrad, tonight was a little more over on another level. It wasn't because she was still mad at her mother for moving them across the country - she wasn't, it was more about her being afraid that if they got into a conversation then she would end up having to tell her everything that had been going on in her life recently.

"So how was your time at the mall with your friend?" Diane asked curiously, trying to strike up a conversation.

Erica couldn't help but feel guilty. She and her mother used to be so close and there was never anything that she didn't tell her, but things were different now. Very different. Since being here in California, her mother was always so busy with that job of hers and asides from that, there was nothing good that she could possibly tell her about how her new life was going here.

What was she supposed to say when asked?

That she had fallen for a juvenile delinquent and been trying to catch a killer to prove him innocent.

Of course not! That would never go down well with her mom. Other than making up stories and lying, there was nothing of the truth that would be any good to either of them. Lying was simply not an option. She had never told a lie to her mother and she was not about to start now.

"It was okay, though he was a little strange in a way." She answered as best as she could.

She hoped that despite her answer not being what her mother had expected to hear, that there would be no further questions asked on the subject.

"Strange, how come?" Diane asked.

"Oh I don't know.... he just... seemed to have a some weird hobbies." She explained, avoiding any further details.

"I see... well I'm sure you will warm up to him." Her mother encouraged.

Ha! If only she knew the other half of it. Dawson Faye would never, in a million years, grow on her. It was far too late for that to happen. She had already began to develop feelings for Ryder, and even if she hadn't.... after seeing the boy at the gas station earlier that evening, in the state the he was in, was a major red flag for her.

Clearly there was something wrong with Dawson, and although she hadn't thought anything of it in the early days of knowing him, she now did not trust him at all. Until she could prove that Ryder was innocent though, she would have to continue to fake an interest in him.

Jeez, what a mess she had gotten wound up in.

Finishing up her dinner, she rose to her feet and took the plate to place it in the sink. Afterwards, she tucked her chair in and went back upstairs to the comfort of her bedroom. With a lot on her mind, the quietness would he perfect for her to be able to get some thinking done.

********
Although he appeared to be asleep to the policemen that were still working late in the office, it turned out that Ryder was actually listening and taking in everything that was going on around him.

They had just received a dispatch call after a local dog walker had discovered a body, and now almost all of them were rushing around and heading out to their cruiser cars.

It would not have caught his attention, and he probably couldn't have cared less...that is until they mentioned the whereabouts that this body had been found.

In the stream that was just off of route nine.

The exact same place in which Dawson had dumped Monica's body.

Being stuck in this tiny jail cell meant that he could not investigate and so would just have to sit right there for the rest of the night wondering... worrying if it was Erica.

Oh but if it did turn out to be Erica that Dawson had hurt this time, Ryder had already decided that he would break out of there, hunt the boy down and end him... and if it meant being sentenced for life until death then so be it. If Dawson has so much as caused one little bruise on her perfect body, then he had better watch his back.

These were some incredibly dark thoughts that he was beginning to have and he began to wonder what exactly it was about Erica, that made him feel this way about her. It was strange and he knew that in a way it was kinda creepy. He had only known her for three weeks and he already had become so overprotective of her. Maybe it was just because he did not want to make the same mistakes that he had made with Monica.

He was beginning to become desperate to get out of this cell that was giving him a touch of claustrophobia, but more than anything he was desperate to know that she was safe, that the body they had found did not belong to Erica Atwood. If it was her, he felt as though he would just lose his mind. Like his life would be over in the space of a heart beat.

As his thoughts grew more and more wild, his heart began to hammer against his chest and he began to feel as though he needed to get out of the tiny cell at that very second. This was something he did not recognise. It was a completely new experience and one that didn't appear to be all that nice. It almost felt as though he was dying. His throat was not far from being air tight and his chest was heavier than a tonne of weights. His palms and forehead were beginning to get sweaty.

But he knew that he had to calm down. If he didn't then he could end up passing out.

Was he - Ryder Griffin - really having a panic attack?

He never had one before in his life. It was the worst thing he had ever felt before. All the fear, and the anger was bubbling up inside him and it had been for a while. There was only a matter of time until it exploded and he could only hope with every fibre of his being that it was not a deadly explosion.

Laying back down on the slab of concrete that the police had made to be his bed, he closed his eyes and washed out his head. Free of the fear. Free of the hurt and the anger. Free of the pain. The second his eyelids closed, he saw her.

The beautiful and smart Erica Atwood. Her image filled his mind and relief began to flood through him at the sight of her glossy blonde hair and her pearly white smile. Even if it was all just in his head, it brought him a great amount of comfort. He wanted this girl... more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life, and if he had to, he would fight for her.