Chapter 2

The petite brunette manning the register called out "Quad grande hazelnut latte" as she saw Luke push through the doors of Java Joe’s. "Hey Luke! Good to see you. Dan’s got your drink going."

"Thanks Joe," said Luke. “I’m going to need the extra buzz this morning.” The Joe of Java Joe's was no longer Big Joe Davis, the ex-cop who opened the coffee shop years ago. His daughter, “Little Joe” as everyone had called her when she first started working in high school, was now running the place. Now that big Joe retired to Arizona with his wife to be a snowbird, she was just Joe.

Luke waited for his latte in the corner of the coffee shop. The new barista, Dan, was chatting with two blonde teens and ignoring his drink. Luke fixed Dan with a glare and the new kid finally noticed the forgotten drink cup and fumbled to make it.

Like any good cop, Luke kept his back to the wall and took note of the other occupants of the comfortable coffee house. Usually this place was packed during the week, between the cops from the station house next door and the courthouse around the corner. A couple of cops in uniform sat in one corner taking a break. A few families and tourists occupied a few other tables, probably on the way to the Seattle Center just a few blocks down.

Looking at his watch and swearing, Luke exited Java Joe’s, almost running into a pink haired punk. Luke made his way next door to the West Precinct building, took one swig of his coffee and choked. Peppermint? The dumbass had been too busy flirting to make his drink right. Luke forced himself to take another drink, for the caffeine and sugar if nothing else.

Three horrific murders in three weeks meant everyone was working around the clock. After just a few hours sleep he was working at 7 damn o clock on a Saturday morning, and his coffee sucked. His mood nosedived as Luke tossed the offending drink in the trash and descended the stairs into the lab. “Hey, Turner where’s my weapon analysis?”

The tall, lanky lab tech looked up from the computer screen, “Maggie’s got it.” Ned Turner was Maggie’s right hand geek man extraordinaire from his Green Lantern t-shirt to the convoluted gadgets he worked with.

“She is in her office, sunshine,” said Tessa, the secretary who had been working here as long as anyone could remember. The sprinkle of silver in her hair gave away the aging that was gracing the black woman well.

“Hey beautiful,” said Luke, blowing her a kiss. “Please tell me you baked again. Those oatmeal cookies last week were amazing.”

Turner’s teasing voice carried across the lab, “Tessa, I think he likes you.”

Her arthritic fingers curled around a pen, she looked up and chuckled softly. “What? No! Luke’s default setting is flirt uncontrollably.”

He winked when he caught her eye.

She shook her head at him. “That’s not going to get you anywhere. I have been working so much I don’t remember what my kitchen looks like. Catch this guy so we can all go back home and I’ll make you a blueberry pie.”

“Now that’s an incentive,” smiled Luke.

Luke looked up to see the new lab intern approaching, his overgrown silky blonde hair falling into his eyes.

“Detective, I have the autopsy report for you,” he said breathlessly, running up to him. The wiry young man fidgeted nervously as Luke looked through the paperwork.

“Thanks, kid,” said Luke, distractedly.

“Seth, my name is Seth,” the young man’s brow furrowed but he followed as Luke walked away. “So what do you think of his work? They’re calling him ‘The Stripper Ripper’ in the news you know. They say he is killing women just like Jack the Ripper.”

Luke looked up to see Seth still staring at him, pale blue eyes unblinking. Anyone who majored in death was screwed up, Luke himself knew that, but Seth seemed to enjoy it a little much. Maybe he should tell Maggie to send Seth out on a few murders so he can be exposed to some of the realities of death. That might wear off some of the novelty.

“What do you think he is doing with the parts he collects?” asked Seth with macabre fascination, wringing his hands excitedly.

Luke shook his head in disgust. “I am not sure but I can think of a few things I’d like to cut out of him.” He walked away, leaving Seth with an odd look on his face.

Luke heard the music before he entered Maggie’s office. The door was partially ajar, “Knock-knock,” said Luke but Maggie didn’t hear him over the music.

Crime scene photos lay scattered on Maggie’s desk and her lab coat tossed onto a side chair. Maggie was leaning over a counter examining slides under a microscope, her foot tapping to the beat giving her ass a suggestive movement that made his groin tighten.

Luke scanned Maggie’s body automatically. He had never seen her without that oversized, ever present lab coat and now he wished he could be the slacks hugging her trim body. “I think I need that song on my playlist,” said Luke.

Maggie jumped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

Luke smiled, eyeing her breasts showcased in the red sweater that covered everything, yet clung to her curves in a way that made a man take notice.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she demanded “Quit undressing me with your eyes,” said Maggie.

“OK I’m done,” said Luke, raising his hands up in surrender.

She raised an eyebrow. “No, you're not.” She reached for her lab coat but Luke dove for it and tucked it behind his back.

“You put the idea in my head,” replied Luke.

“I was just enjoying the music. It wasn't an invitation,” said Maggie.

“With a body like that, it'd be an insult not too. That's like going to a restaurant and not ordering anything. I don’t know why you hide it under this tent.”

Maggie glowered.

Luke looked away. “Ok. Now I'm really done.” He reluctantly returned the coat which she donned like a shield, buttoning every button carefully.

“Now I am sure you came here for something more important than ogling me,” said Maggie. “It is not like I don’t have other, nicer detectives needing work done too.”

Nick sat in the chair near the desk. “Did you get an answer on the weapon?” he asked, fiddling with a nativity scene themed snow globe.

Maggie slapped his hand and replaced the snow globe back on the desk next to a photo of what must be her parents. “Yeah it looks like your psycho probably used a carpet knife,” she said, holding one up. “It is amazingly sharp but has this curve to it. It explains why there was a discrepancy in the wounds. Another knife would have left straighter wounds.”

Luke pondered this development, playing with the snow globe again. “He’s doing this all while they are still alive, the bastard.”

Maggie took the snow globe from his hands and put it on the cabinet behind her desk. "Stop touching!”

“Sorry, I like to keep my hands busy and the globe made me think of other things,” his voice drifted off suggestively.

“If you touch anything in my office again, I will chop off your hands with a meat cleaver,” said Maggie, pointing the carpet knife at him. “Do you want the rest of the information or should I kick you out now, cowboy?”

Nick sighed, opening up the autopsy report Seth had given him. He knew it would be gruesome. “He took a heart and lungs with the first one, liver and kidneys with the second, and stomach and uterus with this one. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No rape, though.”

“Probably impotent. Guys like that can’t perform.” Luke scanned the report to confirm his suspicions. “She was gutted while she was alive like the other victims. Fuck.” Luke’s phone sounded. He looked at the text. “I gotta go.”

“Anything for us?”

“No, looks like our undercover operation is a go. I will let you know if anything develops.” Luke started to leave but hesitated at the door. “What is up with that new intern? Maybe you need to send him out in the field a bit- take the shine off death.”

“Take it easy on Seth. His mom died right before he started last month, and from what I hear, they were close.”

Luke nodded.

“I am still waiting on the profile from my friend at the FBI but he warned that with the rush we probably aren’t going to get much of a reading from it,” said Maggie.

“Crap. I should have known from the way my coffee tasted like buffalo piss that this was going to be a shitty day,” said Luke as he left.

Chapter 1 continued

St. Mary’s was a lone bastion of hope in the battle for good in the run down neighborhood. Years ago the faithful parishioners had kept the grass and the hedge surrounding the church neatly trimmed. But now leaves gathered, someone should sweep them, but they gradually grind into the litter and grime rounding every intersecting surface.

Gabriel came to the brick and stained glass church early, knowing she would be waiting. Her only clock was the meth running through her veins. She paced outside, wearing a low cut red blouse and a skimpy jean skirt topping legs like a too small lampshade on a pop art lamp. Without a word he handed over the money, and she the baby, stalking down the street in her knee-high black boots without looking back.

Lily wriggled happily in Gabriel’s arms yet he could feel the ravages of illness in her body. Entering through the carved oak doors, Gabriel took the baby inside the brick and stained glass church, away from the cold winds.

Gabriel dipped his hand into the ornate marble basin of holy water by the door. Lily flinched as his hand approached her face and it troubled him to realize that she had already learned that touch meant pain. His wet fingers touched her body in the sign of a cross and she quieted in his arms. I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. He repeated the steps for himself.

As he walked past the well worn pews of the nearly empty church, Gabriel remembered what the church had looked like in its heyday, when faith was strong. The choir singing hymns, packed with well dressed faithful and full of life and spirit. A place where God was welcomed.

His sneakers made little sound on the gray stone floor as he made his way to the front and knelt with her on the worn red carpet at the altar. Gabriel’s voice crooned a soft lullaby as he rocked the baby. The bronze crucifix hung prominently at the center of the church and towered over the altar covered with a cloth, hand embroidered with flowers.

Today, the warmth of faith ebbed in this icy labyrinth, too big to serve the few who still came. The edges of the church glittered with the flickering of candles sending the hopes and prayers of the faithful up to heaven. A withered husk of a woman, tenaciously clinging to her faith, knelt and lit a candle in front of a gilded statue of the Virgin Mary.

“Let me tell you what heaven is like,” he whispered softly to the baby. Lily smiled and giggled again, the sound echoing in the vast church.

“Can I help you?” asked an elderly priest, his face crinkling into a welcoming smile.

Gabriel stood easily despite the abuses of the body that contained him. “Yes, I was just asking for you.” Gabriel reached out and shook the priest’s gnarled hand, yes he was right. “My name is Gabriel, and she needs you.” He handed the baby to the priest, who looked at him in confusion.

Reaching out a hand, Gabriel placed his hand on the man’s cheek. “God is well pleased with you, Father Luke.”

The priest’s clear blue eyes filled with tears and he nodded. “I will take care of the little one.”

With an aching heart, Gabriel leant over and kissed the baby’s forehead softly. “Goodbye, little one.”

He left the church swiftly and made his way over to a corner of the parking lot by the back dumpster. Gabriel dropped to his knees and puked. Tears ran down his cheeks as he heaved until well past his stomach being empty. He sat back against the wall, the rough brick scratching his back through the thin material. Gabriel wiped his face on his shirt, not that any more stains would be noticeable.

God give me strength, he prayed. The effects of withdrawals shook him and he fought to control the nausea that rolled through him. Groaning against the pain, he clenched his jaw and shuddered. He closed his eyes and took a deep, healing breath.

A sense of claustrophobia came over him. Struggling to his feet, Gabriel walked away down the street. His pace quickened as the thoughts of people on the street crowded into him, making it harder and harder to breathe. Ignoring the calls of souls in need, he escaped into a coffee shop.

Chapter 1

The sound of a car horn woke him. Gabriel stared at the stained, peeling paint on the cracked ceiling, feeling disoriented. A fly buzzed his face. Memories seeped into him as sat up on the edge of the lumpy mattress.

Angry voices carried through the open bedroom window and the horn blared again. “Get the fuck out of my parking spot.” Gabriel winced and reached for the window. He looked along the brick apartment building at the row of curtain-less grimy windows. Looking down three stories, two men had gotten out of their cars and began pushing one another. He closed the window, muffling the voices from below, and instantly the room became unbearable warm.

He rose from the rumpled bed and stepped gingerly through the scattered mess to the bathroom. He ran his fingers through his greasy, overgrown hair. Looking into the cracked mirror, he groaned. Pink. Why did it have to be pink, he thought.

Scrounging around the bathroom, he found a razor. He flipped on the shower, pulled open the mildewed curtain and stepped into the chipped bathtub. Cold water poured out the showerhead and he jumped back, knocking over the shampoo. After a minute of running cold water, a lukewarm spray emerged, allowing him to soap himself with the shampoo and quickly scrape the week old beard from his face before shutting off the now cold water. Satisfied, Gabriel toweled himself off with a small, questionably clean towel.

He reentered the bedroom to try to find his clothes amidst the mess. He had just pulled on a pair of jeans when he realized he wasn’t alone in the apartment.

The giggling drew him into the living room, where a smiling infant lay in the middle of a grubby playpen with faded ducks and frogs on the plastic floor. A couple of discarded pink bottles littered the floor outside the reach of the baby. Her smile was a beacon, and he drew closer. The patch of fine, blonde baby hair circled her head like a halo. She held a bottle of bright red Kool-Aid, shaking it as she kicked her scrawny legs. Her face radiated an inner joy despite the sickly yellow tint to her eyes and skin.

Gabriel glanced at the meager surroundings. A large console television in the corner with a scratched wooden cabinet played the news announcing that police had found the third body in the “Stripper Ripper” murders. A sunken couch with torn cushions held a pile of wrinkled laundry. The coffee table was littered with old beer bottles and empty fast food containers. Was that a stack of dirty diapers in the corner? A rat scurried away from the pile. Gabriel swallowed hard.

"Jesse?"

Gabriel turned at the sound of the woman’s husky voice and looked at the woman standing in the kitchen. "I told you, you'd left something here last time." She nodded toward the baby.

"What is her name?" Gabriel asked.

"Lily."

The woman's drawn face and empty eyes told of the ravages of a hard life. She was probably years younger than she looked, but her stringy red hair lay limply around her face. She glanced down and picked at her arm, drawing a drop of blood.

He approached her warily, suspecting what he would find. Still, he needed to be sure. She smelled of stale cigarettes and sex. He reached out and touched her shoulders. He found his answer. No. This one was hopeless. Still, he ran his warm hands up and down the arms etched by scars and sores.

“What do you want, Jesse?” she drew back suspiciously and crossed her arms under the fake breasts that rose unnaturally on her emaciated body.

Gabriel paused, a plan forming. “I want her.”

She eyed him cynically and blew out an irritated stream of cigarette smoke. “You’ll have to pay for her.”

“I figured as much. How much?” he asked as if he were negotiating for a used car instead of a six month old.

“Five, no six hundred,” she spat out.

“Fine.”

“Oh yeah, Jesse, and how the hell you gonna get that kinda money when you can’t even pay for Ice,” she stabbed her cigarette out in the sink full of dirty dishes and putrid food.

“Don’t worry about the money. Bring the baby and meet me outside St. Mary’s in an hour. You think you can do that?”

She nodded and then glanced over at the baby bouncing happily at the colorful images dancing across the television. “What are you going to do with a baby?” she asked coldly.

“Do you care?”

“Not really, the little brat cries all the damn time.” Her shaky hands struggled to light up another cigarette. “Make sure you get the money, I need a fix.”

He answered her with a silent glare. He found what looked to be his shoes and a questionably clean shirt by the front door. Stuffing his feet into ratty Converse, he took the shirt with him as he stalked out the door. The baby wailed.

Introduction

Gabriel is worn down by the everyday evil he sees in his line of work. Quitting? Not an option for the Holy Spirit. So Gabriel gets a little cynical and a little creative and that combo gets him stuck in a way he never anticipated.

Luke is a Seattle homicide detective that has a serial killer to catch and no time for supernatural or ghostly games.

It will take an extraordinary partnership to nab the killer and get Gabriel back to work saving souls.