Jax flew through the corridors of the Port Charles Police Department as though the hounds of h*ll were chasing him. He would never stop blaming himself if something had happened to Brenda – he should have picked up on all the little discrepancies in Wayne Cummings’ story and convinced Mac and the others that he couldn’t *possibly* have been the Slasher. And now, the real Slasher had been allowed to roam free, with Brenda alone and unsuspecting……

He was almost to the front door of the station when Jax remembered that there was only about 1/8 of a tank of gas in his jeep. It probably would have been enough to get him to Brenda’s brownstone, but with the added complication of negotiating his way through inevitable traffic jams around a crime scene, he couldn’t take any chances.

Jax swore rather loudly but then one eyebrow lifted with an inspiration. He made a sharp left down a corridor and burst through the door to the Dispatch Center without breaking stride. "Who’s on grunt patrol down near the docks tonight?"

A middle-aged blonde woman glanced up from her switchboard with a grizzled frown. "And a very good evening to you, too, Lieutenant Jacks."

"This is an emergency, Laverne! Don’t give me that "you hurt my tender feminist feelings" cr*p!" He grabbed for a large spiral-bound notebook. "Who have we got walking the beat down near McCormack and Water Streets?"

A pained expression flitted over Laverne’s face. "I’m not sure……I think just about everyone’s gone over to the scene of that latest Slasher homicide."

Jax tossed the notebook back towards her. "Well, double-check, would you? I need them to babysit somebody down in that neighborhood until I can get there myself."

Laverne arched one eyebrow as she thumbed through the pages. "Has Mac approved this babysitting duty you’re talking about?"

"I’ll deal with Mac." Jax pointed towards the notebook. "You just find me someone and get them down to 982 Water Street pronto."

Laverne scanned the notebook’s pages cynically. "It looks like Gilles and Brandt might be in the area, but I can’t be sure," she finally sighed. "All units in the area were paged to the crime scene, like I said, so they might be tied up."

"Well, we’ll never know until you call them, will we?" Jax growled, pushing the microphone towards the blonde. He didn’t hide his impatience very well at all.

Laverne grimaced and then took the microphone with a sigh. "Unit 78, unit 78, this is central dispatch. Unit 78, are you there?"

Tension clogged the air in the small room as the only sounds were the crackling of the two-way radio and Jax’s labored breathing. Finally, a gruff voice came back through the speakers. "Central Dispatch, unit 78 responding." A pause. "This is Brandt, dollface. What ‘cha want?"

Jax grabbed the microphone from Laverne’s hand. "I want you to stop hitting on the dispatcher and get your sorry @ss down to 982 Water Street!"

Another 15 seconds of silence. "Laverne?" Brandt’s confusion was clear in his voice. "No, wait – that sounds like………Lieutenant Jacks? Is that you?"

"You bet your fat @ss it’s me, Brandt!" Jax took a breath to steady his nerves. He considered having the two patrolmen do some snooping at the crime scene to see if the body had been identified, but then decided it would just be easier to send them to Brenda’s house. And think positive thoughts.

"Sorry, Lieutenant Jacks….." Brandt’s voice was suitably humble. "But everything’s a freaking cluster down here with this latest Slasher victim being discovered……"

"Listen to me carefully, Brandt," Jax crooned. "I want you and Gilles to take a car and go down to an old brownstone at 982 Water Street."

There was a scratching sound as Brandt wrote down his instructions. "And?"

"When you ring the bell, a short brunette will probably answer….." {If God is on my side, she will.} "Her name is Barrett……Brenda Barrett."

"Got it." More scratching. "You want me and Melvin to bring her in for questioning?"

"Bloody h*ll, NO!!" Jax could just imagine Brenda fainting dead away if a strange policeman came to her door and insisted she come to the station for more grilling. He took another deep breath. "Just……..just confirm that Miss Barrett is safe and sound and stay there with her until I come to relieve you."

"Why?" Jax swore beneath his breath at Brandt’s curiosity. "Mac didn’t say anything in our latest briefing about any case involving a Brenda Bar……"

"JUST DO IT, D*MNIT!!" Even Laverne winced at Jax’s shout. He shrank back a little in silent apology to her and inhaled again. "Just make sure Miss Barrett’s safe and the house is secure. I’ll clear everything with Mac and fill you in on all the details when I get there."

"You think you’ll be long?" Jax ran his hand through his hair at Brandt’s innocent question, almost tearing out a chunk in the process. "Cause me and the wife are celebratin’ our 12^th weddin’ anniversary today," Brandt went on, "and we were hopin’ to have a little private time later, if ‘ya know what I mean….."

There was an awkward pause and then the radio crackled again. "Brandt? Are you still there?"

"Laverne? Is that you? What happened to Lieutenant Jacks?"

"He’s already on his way out the door, honey," Laverne oozed, almost caressing the microphone with her lips. "You’d better get down to that address on Water Street if you don’t want to be walking that beat for the rest of your life….."

Jax took the stairs down to the front doors of the PCPD two at a time. Just as he was about to give the right side door a lethal punch, Mac flung open the left one. "JAX!! Just the man I wanted to see!" He stood rooted to the spot, blocking Jax’s path out of the station. "What the h*ll happened? I thought we had the Slasher case locked up, and now I hear we’ve got another victim!!" He came closer to Jax and stabbed a finger in the tall blonde’s heaving chest. "Are you TRYING to give me a nervous breakdown?"

Jax held up both hands, palms outward, and tried to circle around Mac’s flank. "I know it’s all confusing, Commissioner, and I *promise* I’ll sit down and explain the whole thing to you tomorrow, but right now I REALLY need to go check on something……"

Mac grabbed Jax’s arms and stopped his progress. "Not tomorrow. You’ll give me some straight answers RIGHT NOW or I’ll have your badge, Lieutenant!"

"Any other time, Mac, but right now I really don’t have time….."

"I SAID RIGHT NOW, LIEUTENANT!!!"

Jax usually didn’t pay much attention to Mac’s blustering. After a while, it got to be like the boy crying wolf – something he expected for a matter as trivial as Felicia buying an outrageously expensive dress to wear to the annual Policemen’s Ball or as serious as a bomb threat at Port Charles High. But when he saw the glint of rage in Mac’s eyes and the way his hands were propped on his hips, Jax realized that this time, there was no getting around the boss. It was bottom line time, even if the bottom line’s life was hanging in the balance. He comforted himself with the fact that at least Gilles and Brandt were on the way to the brownstone. Jax ran his fingers through his hair – had this day really just started with him and Brenda in bed, almost kissing?

"Well, Lieutenant – I’m waiting!"

"All right!" Jax threw up his hands in surrender and then rested them on his hips. "I guess you heard that Bren……I mean, Miss Barrett, wasn’t able to make a positive ID of any of the suspects in the lineup yesterday."

"Blue was pretty vague about it, but YES, that’s what she eventually managed to tell me." Mac folded his arms impatiently.

"Well, that’s because she CAN’T identify any of the suspects." Mac frowned and Jax sighed in defeat. "After she saw the Slasher’s face, he knocked her down and she bumped her head hard on the concrete. She…..uh…….well, she can’t remember anything about what the Slasher looked like."

One of Mac’s eyes narrowed. "She has amnesia?"

"Not exactly. More like partial amnesia – selective amnesia or something, I think. You can ask Dr. Tony Jones for more details about it – she remembers the accident itself and everything leading up to it, but once she pulled the perp’s mask off, everything’s a blank."

Mac’s entire body slouched and he whistled softly. "D*mn………so then she was never really a witness to begin with, was she?"

"Wellllll, I wouldn’t say that…….."

Mac’s eyes suddenly flared with annoyance. "So then there was really no *valid* reason for you to be playing house with her for the past 36 hours either, was there Lieutenant Jacks?"

"If you would *kindly* let me finish!" Jax blurted, shifting his weight so that his frame towered above that of the commissioner. Mac grimaced but then nodded his agreement for Jax to go on. "Tony Jones also said that there was an excellent chance that Miss Barrett would *eventually* get her memory back. That something sometime might be just the spark it needs and then everything would come back to her, including the Slasher’s face."

"What kind of spark?"

Jax shrugged. "Dr. Jones wasn’t specific. I’ve tried showing her mug shots, and Blue and I thought that maybe the lineup would do the trick, but so far……..nothing." He glanced down at his watch and panic flitted across his face. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need…….."

Mac grabbed for Jax’s arm as he tried to get past once again. "Where are you off to in such a hurry? I don’t recall giving you a new assignment yet!"

Jax almost growled his frustration. "Don’t you get it, Mac? Miss Barrett doesn’t remember the Slasher’s face, but he doesn’t KNOW that!! He still thinks she can send him to the electric chair, and now that you managed to give him a new lease on life with this whole Wayne Cummings screw-up, he’s used that to his advantage and killed again!" His voice shook with emotion. "Maybe even killed her!" He broke free of Mac’s hold and put his hand to the door.

"So you’re on the way to her house now?" Mac called.

Jax stopped in the open doorway. "Just as fast as my jeep can get me there. And once I’m there, this time I’m STAYING until she can positively identify the guy!"

Jax was on his way down the steps to his jeep when Mac opened the door and shouted again. "JAX!" He only looked back at his boss after opening the door on the driver side. "You promise you’ll call me just as SOON as anything comes back to Miss Barrett? Promise?"

He quickly made the gesture on his chest. "Cross my heart, chief. As soon as she remembers anything, you’ll be the first to know!" Jax got into the jeep and roared away from the curb only seconds later, leaving Mac shaking his head in the doorway to the station.

"Why don’t I believe you, Lieutenant Jacks?" Mac muttered. He turned and let the door close, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. "Felicia cooking for Thanksgiving and a renegade vigilante cop who wants to make the world safe for motherhood and apple pie……" He sighed loudly and looked heavenward. ""Why me?"

########

Brenda swung her legs out of the bed and ground the heels of her hands against her eyelids. "AAAAArghhhhhhh!" She muttered a few choice obscenities and then grabbed for the pink chenille robe that still lay at the foot of her bed. "How can anyone expect to get any sleep around here with all of these sirens blaring every ten minutes?"

Brenda had taken as long as she possibly could in cleaning up the dishes after Jax left. In fact, she had scrubbed her entire kitchen, from ceiling to floorboards, until it shone brighter than the new-fallen snow. After that, she had tackled the bathrooms, both upstairs and down. She kept telling herself that they needed a good sanitizing – after all, she had been sharing the upstairs bath with a *man* for two days, and Lord knows he had left enough stray hairs shaving and showering to weave a set of small coasters.

When she collapsed into a chair in her living room and looked at the clock, Brenda was surprised to see that it was only a few minutes past 6PM. Surely something had gone wrong – the batteries had died or there had been a power outage. It HAD to be later than that, especially when she felt like she had done enough hard physical work to last two lifetimes. But when she flipped on the television, she was disappointed to find out that her antique hall clock was keeping perfect time.

The voice of the cheerful anchor brought Brenda out of her reverie with a start. She recognized the name – Tiffany Hill. The same news reporter Jax had mentioned. After turning up the volume using the remote control, Brenda narrowed one eye as she listened to Tiffany’s "in-depth" report on the capture of a suspect believed to be the Dockside Slasher. She wrinkled her nose distastefully at the screen when Tiffany breathlessly announced that she was privy to inside information confirming that this suspect WAS indeed the awful perpetrator.

"Not unless I’ve lost my marbles in the past three days, honey!" Brenda spat at Tiffany’s image sarcastically. She rose from the chair and turned off the TV with a muffled obscenity. As she turned and went towards the kitchen with a weary sigh, disturbing thoughts began to flood Brenda’s consciousness.

{Of course, there are a lot of people who WOULD say that you’ve lost your marbles, Brenda. Living here in this big old house, all alone. Never wanting to leave it.} When she flipped on the kitchen lights, the first thing that caught her eye were the *two* plates and *two* cups in the dish drainer. {Preferring to stay here by yourself and turn into an old maid rather than have the guts to take a chance on a relationship with a fascinating, gorgeous specimen of masculinity. Yep. You’re a candidate for the Funny Farm if there ever was one, Brenda.}

When Brenda walked over to the kitchen window, she peered outside to see a small group of teenagers sledding in the alley. They were laughing and the girls were screaming in delight when the boys dumped them into large snow banks and then proceeded to "wash their faces" in the cold, icy confection. She sighed loudly, then went to a side cabinet and reached for a can of clam chowder.

As she was taking down a large saucepan to use in heating her soup, more disturbing thoughts plagued her. {That could be *you* out there, Brenda. Laughing and romping in the snow. Having a wonderful time – with Jax.} She chewed on her lower lip as she measured the milk into the pan. {But would it really be wonderful? How long could you really be happy out there until it started to feel like the air was getting thin and the night sky was falling towards you, aiming to crush you beneath its weight? How long would it be before the sounds of the other happy people began to sound like fun house distortions and screams of agony?}

She made herself a wonderful supper of clam chowder, a submarine sandwich with ham and pastrami, and a glass of the wine she had shared with Jax just the night before. As Brenda slowly sipped the last her Port, she couldn’t believe that 24 hours earlier it had tasted so much better. The silence in the room around her hadn’t seemed so quiet. And the loneliness that almost made her choke on her food hadn’t seemed so………lonely.

Another few sips of wine had seemed to cure her melancholy. Brenda attacked the dishes with new vigor. She bounded up the stairs to the library and caught up on quite a few sales on her web page, smiling at the healthy additions to her bank account. {See? Lieutenant Jacks thinks the only way to be a success is to be a hotshot policeman in the outside world. But I can still make a wonderful living and have everything I need and never leave this house.}

Two hours later, when she lay tossing and turning in her bed, Brenda re-considered her generalization. {Maybe not *everything*, Brenda. Maybe you need human contact – with more than just Brian the grocery guy. Maybe you need contact with a MAN-type human – a JAX-type human. Maybe your hormones are trying to tell you something that your brain doesn’t want to admit.}

Coming down the stairs at 1AM, Brenda told herself again that it was the constant blare of sirens that kept her awake. When she pushed the nylon curtain on her front door aside and saw an ambulance and two police cars racing down the street towards the docks, she was even more firmly convinced. As she turned to go to the kitchen for some warm milk, it never even occurred to her to wonder WHY all of those sirens and emergency vehicles were needed so close to her home.

Brenda was on her way back towards the stairs when she heard it. More sirens went racing up her street, and then there was a low roar that stopped short – right in front of the brownstone. She gripped the glass of warm milk tightly, trying to tell herself that she was imagining things. Or……could it be? Would there be a knock at the door, and then the sound of a sexy male voice with that lovable Aussie accent calling to her? Saying those tender, warm words – the way only Jax could say them?

"BRENDA – OPEN THE D*MN DOOR OR I’LL KNOCK IT DOWN WITH A CASE OF ASPARAGUS!!!"

She laughed out loud at the memory and then shook her head at her foolishness. As she turned to mount the stairs to her bedroom, Brenda paused. {You’re such a dreamer, Brenda. He’ll never come back to you. Not when he could just as soon be with some voluptuous, drop-dead beautiful NORMAL type of woman. He would never come back to…….}

Brenda dropped the glass at the sound of the doorbell. For a split-second, she was frozen in place on the staircase as a chill ran down her spine. She turned to stare at the door and it rang again, making her gasp aloud. Her hand on the banister trembled and she didn’t even give a thought to the broken glass that littered the floor. When the loud knocking started, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the scream.

"MISS BARRETT? BRENDA BARRETT? OPEN THE DOOR, MA’AM – PCPD!!!"

Her eyes got even wider but still Brenda remained rooted to the spot at the foot of the stairs. "Wh………who’s there?" she finally stammered in a weak voice.

"MISS BARRETT? THIS IS THE PCPD! CAN YOU OPEN THE DOOR, MA’AM?"

Brenda looked around, mightily wishing that she knew what to do. Jax had taught her to be suspicious, but with the Slasher behind bars, why should she worry anymore? But then again – why were the police here? Unless……had something happened to Jax?

Messages finally seemed to get through from Brenda’s brain to her feet. She ran to the door and pushed the curtain to the side. When she peered into the darkness on the porch, she could make out the forms of two rather large men in dark blue uniforms. "Who are you and why do you need to see me?"

The larger of the two uniformed men took something out of his back pocket. He flipped it open and shone the flashlight he was holding on it, illuminating some kind of official-looking badge. "I’m Officer Jimmy Brandt, ma’am." He flashed the light over his shoulder at his annoyed-looking companion. "And this is my partner, Patrolman Melvin Gilles. Are you……" He closed the badge and stuck it back in his pocket. "…….Brenda Barrett?"

She let the curtain fall back to its place. {They look like real policemen. Can I trust them? Why shouldn’t I? But why would they be looking for me at this time of the morning?} Brenda chewed on her lower lip and then, when Officer Brandt rapped his flashlight against her screen door again, she shakily unlocked the front door and opened it. The safety chain was still firmly bolted in place, her concession to the cautiousness Jax had instilled in her during their 48-hour stay together. "I’m Brenda Barrett." She tried to sound firm but her voice still shook with uncertainty as she peeked through the crack between door and jamb. "What do you want?"

To her surprise, Officer Brandt looked over his shoulder at his partner and then gestured towards the side of the brownstone. "Check around back and make sure it’s secure," he murmured grimly. The other policeman took off without question. Then Brandt turned back to the unenviable job of getting Brenda to open the door and let him in. "I just need to check and make sure you’re alright, ma’am." His words were gentle and polite – just the way Gail Baldwin always talked to her when she wanted to inspire confidence, Brenda noticed.

She clutched the lapels of her chenille robe closer together. "I’m fine, Mr…….I mean, Officer," Brenda stammered. "Really!" When another police car roared down the street towards the waterfront, Brenda rose one eyebrow. "Does this have anything to do with all the sirens I’ve been hearing tonight?"

Before Brandt could answer, his partner showed up on the porch. "Everything’s locked up tighter than a drum," Gilles replied to Brandt’s silent question. "There were some tracks in the snow in the alley, though ……."

"Oh, those were just some teenagers sledding," Brenda quickly volunteered. "I saw them earlier tonight when I was doing dishes – through my kitchen window……"

Brandt turned back to Brenda as he slipped the flashlight through a loop on his belt. "Miss Barrett, if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it if we could come inside…….just to make sure that everything’s OK….."

"But I *told* you that I’m fine, Officer, and I really don’t understand….."

Brandt’s patience finally disintegrated. "I PROMISED Lieutenant Jacks that I would personally make sure you were safe, Miss Barrett! Now, if you’ll just PLEASE open the door……."

"Lieutenant Jacks?" Brenda’s fingers flew as she quickly shut the door, un-did the safety chain, and then opened it wide. She peered into the inky darkness on the street. "Is Lieutenant Jacks with you?"

Brandt heaved a sigh of relief as he and his partner stepped into the brownstone. He shot Gilles a look over his shoulder that clearly stated his opinion of the feminine gender. "No, the Lieutenant isn’t with us, ma’am. I got the feeling he was tied up on something else back at the station, but he wanted us to stop by and make sure that everything was copasetic here."

"He…….he did?" {He was thinking of me!! Jax still cared enough about me to ask these guys to come check on me!! But why, especially if the Slasher is in jail……..} Brenda smiled a little but then her face clouded with confusion. "Why?" She peered around the policemen when another siren raced down the street. "What’s going on that I keep hearing all those sirens? Is there a fire or a huge traffic accident or something?"

Brandt took a breath to reply but then all three were distracted by the roaring of a car engine. It got louder, then ended with an abrupt thud. A car door slammed and just as Brandt opened his mouth to speak, heavy footsteps echoed on Brenda’s front steps.

Jax almost yanked the screen door off the hinges when he threw it open. He had seen the black and white parked at the curb – he knew that if anything bad had been going on, Brandt and Gilles would have stopped it. Yet, his heart raced and the cheeseburger and Coke he had gulped at the station only two hours earlier felt like they were going to come back up right on Brenda’s front porch.

Even when he saw her, standing there in that d*mn frumpy chenille robe that reminded him of something that his grandmother used to wear, Jax’s heart still felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest. He took deep, labored breaths, gulping the brownstone air to keep from fainting dead away in front of mere patrolmen. She was OK. H*ll, she was more than OK. She was curious, and confused……..and still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

"Bre………Miss Barrett!" Jax caught himself just in time so that his closeness to the witness wouldn’t be debated at length in department gossip circles. For just an instant, energy flowed between Jax and Brenda to rival the center of a nuclear reactor. Then he became painfully aware of his fellow officers’ presence. He acknowledged them in turn with a nod of his head. "Brandt……Gilles……."

"Lieutenant." Brandt’s tone was clipped and to-the-point. "We’ve checked the outside, sir. Perimeter’s secure." He tipped his head towards Brenda’s stairs. "We were just about to check the upstairs when you arrived, Lieutenant."

Brenda frowned. Was she still dreaming? Had she awakened in some parallel universe? Why would they need to check her house to make sure everything was safe? And why had Jax suddenly shifted back to such a formal address? If he didn’t care about her, why did he have such a relieved look on his face when he saw her?

"That’ll be alright, guys," Jax replied. "You two can go on. I’ll handle checking the rest of the house on my own."

"We really should stay, Lieutenant." Brandt was respectful but insistent. "Just in case you need some backup…….especially considering what’s gone down tonight already……."

"OK, THAT’S IT!!" All three men stepped back a little at Brenda’s disgusted outburst. "SOMEBODY tell me what’s going on and right now or else I’m going to throw ALL of you out on the street!"

Jax allowed himself a half-smile. "I’ll handle things here with Miss Barrett, Brandt," he said, his condescending tone almost making Brenda want to smash the antique vase in the hallway over his exquisitely handsome head. "You and Gilles go on back to the station. And thanks again for helping me out like this." He put his hand on Brandt’s back forcefully, turning him towards the door while Gilles followed like an obedient puppy dog. "Oh, and tell Blue and V that everything was fine here…..and I’ll talk to them in the morning."

Brenda folded her arms and fumed silently as Jax pushed the two policemen out the door. "No problem, Lieutenant." Gilles stepped out onto the porch while Brandt hung back to give Jax a skeptical look. "You sure you’re gonna be OK here with this …….um……..lady?"

"I’ll be fine." Jax returned a "superior male" wink and Brandt smiled. As soon as he closed the door behind them, Brenda took a deep breath to explode but Jax held up one finger behind him, signaling that she should wait. They both heard the footsteps echo on her wooden porch, and then a few seconds later, the sound of the police cruiser start up and pull away from the curb.

"JAX!" He didn’t even acknowledge her fury, just kept up his methodical process of throwing the dead bolt and securing the chain. "What’s going on? I think you owe……." Brenda never got a chance to finish her questions. The second he finished, Jax turned back to her, closed the distance between them, and scooped her into his arms before she could even blink. He held her so tightly that her face was buried against his chest in the opening of his bomber jacket. Although she had been ready to kill him only moments earlier, the smell of aged leather and Jax’s own unique masculine scent were enough to deflate Brenda’s anger like a balloon.

"Brenda…….oh, God, Brenda…….." Jax kept murmuring unintelligible things in her ear while they turned slowly in the front hallway in each other’s arms. "I was so afraid I wouldn’t get here in time……..that I would never be able to do what I should have done……….."

She finally managed to pull out of his embrace just enough to stare deeply into his eyes. "Do what, Jax?"

Jax’s chuckle rumbled low in his chest as he tenderly cupped her face in his hands. "This."

The last thing Brenda expected was for Jax to silence her with a hungry, desperate kiss. But once he had seized her lips, there was no place on the earth she wanted to be than in his arms. His tongue darted repeatedly into the honeyed recesses of her mouth, velvety and insistent. His thumbs caressed her cheeks while he held her face immobile, almost as though Jax was afraid that she would slip away before he had tasted enough of her. Her hands flailed momentarily at her sides before she gripped his arms through the leather of his bomber jacket, holding on for dear life and never wanting to let go.

One delirious, devastating kiss led to another. Then another. And yet another. Jax tipped his head to one side, then broke the kiss only to see if Brenda’s mouth was still as tempting and intoxicating from a different angle. He reclaimed her mouth and groaned aloud when her delicate tongue traced his lower lip before sinking past Jax’s lips in a sensual exploration of its own. Soft moans of pleasure were the only sounds in the hallway until the wail of a siren broke sensual spell.

Jax rested his forehead against Brenda’s while both struggled to get their breathing under control. "I shouldn’t have done that – but I just had to……..I just had to……."

Brenda stared up into his dazzlingly blue eyes and pushed the hair back off his forehead. "Jax – what’s going on? Why did you come back?"

He took a deep breath, then let go of Brenda reluctantly to take her by the hand. Jax led her to the living room couch and pulled her down next to him, resting one arm behind her protectively. "Brenda, the guy they had in custody *wasn’t* the Slasher." He stared down into his lap before looking up again at her with anguish. "There was another murder tonight, love. A petite woman with dark hair."

Brenda’s eyes widened. "Where?"

"Just a few blocks from here." Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her gasp of terror. "And it gets worse. They found her in a blue sedan – probably a Taurus."

"Oh, my…….." Tears ran down Brenda’s cheeks. "He thought……." She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and took a shaky breath. "The Slasher killed her because he thought……..he thought it was ME, didn’t he? He wanted to get rid of me because he thinks I know……..that I would be able to identify…….."

Jax nodded somberly. "That’s about it, love." He put a knuckle to her chin to lift her face and smiled grimly. "So I hope you’ve got a lot of that d*mn purple lettuce, because it looks like I’ll be here for a while."

To be continued……..