Finally

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

3rd Person

The killer sat in his hotel room, Jace's phone in hand. He had gone back for it after he had heard Chloe scream when she found the body. He had hoped that someone besides her would find Jace. He hadn't wanted her to be hurt.

With steady hands, the killer unlocked Jace's phone, inputting the password that had not changed in years: 0227. It was the date Jace and Chloe had met. It repulsed him how much Jace appeared to love her.

Slowly, dreading what he was to hear, Jace's murderer plugged his headphones into the phone and opened Jace's music. He picked the playlist called "Our Songs". The first song played through the headphones, the song that had been playing when Jace and Chloe had met for the first time.

The killer didn't even make it through that first song before flinging the phone savagely across the hotel room. Jace had though he had loved Chloe, loved her more than anyone.

He was wrong.

Jace could never love Chloe as much as his killer did. He had loved Chloe from the moment he saw her in Jace's arms.

If he couldn't have her, no one could. Not even Jace.

But Jace is dead, the killer thought to himself. And now that he is, who's keeping me from being with Chloe. No one.

Finally.

* * *

Ryder

I was in a cell, caged, like an animal. Locked up like a killer, a common criminal. Not like the best detective the CPD had ever seen. I guess that's what killing another cop did to you.

Rook had found my request unreasonable. So much for his being my best friend.

I guess in a sense I understood it. Safety of the people comes before everything. That's what the job has taught us.

After Rook had finished questioning me (aka after I had finished confessing), he cuffed my hands behind my back and took me to the holding cells in the back of our precinct. He'd told me that the D.A.'s (District Attorney's) office would pick me up in the morning. I had absolutely no intention of going with the D.A., so as we passed my desk, I grabbed a paper clip off the top and slid it into my pocket. Given enough time, I would be able to use it to pick the lock on the handcuffs and possibly the cell door. That was when Rook and I reached the cell.

"Get in," he'd said stiffly.

I hadn't argued, walking in and sitting down as Rook shut and locked the door. I sat against a wall, and didn't move for a long time, finally letting the tears slide slowly down my face.

"I love you, Mag, and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," I had whispered, then sighed, wishing I could wipe the tears from my cheeks and began trying to unlock my handcuffs.

That's where I was when Strauss came back.

Detective Mason Strauss was relatively new to the CPD. He had come to our precinct less than a year back. He's worked four cases, all of them with his partner, Johann Edwardson. Johann had recently gotten a few extra vacation days and was using them to take a trip to the Caribbean with his family. Earlier this morning, a murder had been called in, and since he was the only one not currently working on a case, Strauss had been assigned to it. It was his first case without Johann.

My first handcuff came unlocked.

"Suicide," Strauss was saying, "It was quite obvious. The poor guy flung himself off the roof. I had to interview the fiancée." He shuddered. "I would've flung myself off a roof too if I was him. She was unbearable. Drove me crazy and I was only around her for ten minutes. Not much of a looker either. I wonder what the idiot saw in her. Personality was complete crap. Face was so ugly I can't even describe it. But I mean, you never know, maybe she did well in other areas of their relationship." Strauss coughed, then raised his eyebrows, making it very clear what those "other areas" were. "But for me," he continued, "Even that wouldn't make up for the rest of her."