The entire parking garage was alive with activity. Crime scene tape cordoned off the area surrounding Felicia's car as investigators went over the automobile with careful scrutiny. Some of the building tenants were standing around watching, but were kept at bay by a small group of uniformed officers.

On the lower level, there was a similar setting, though only three young people were keeping vigil. An older man wearing gloves and carrying a small bag of equipment hovered near the ground, examining the space once occupied by Billie's Corvette.

Sara was leaning against a cement support pillar, her eyes fixed on that single, empty parking spot. Billie had now been missing for over two hours. She still couldn't believe it. Almost every cop in LA had been looking for Felicia Ralston, including her lover, and now it appeared that she'd been right under everyone's noses all along, lying in wait for the opportunity to get Billie alone and-

"Hayes. Ray."

She quickly straightened up and watched as Deaq and Van, both of whom had been standing nearby looking every bit as anxious as she was, approached the investigator she'd been observing, who was now kneeling down with some type of odd looking flashlight in his hand. The blonde immediately walked around another car to get a better view, since they wouldn't allow her on the other side of the tape.

Everyone was too far away for her to hear them, but she could see the man holding the light to the ground and pointing at the car beside him, apparently explaining his discovery to the two young officers. After several minutes of discussion, Van threw his arms up in exasperation and immediately turned and headed in her direction.

"That crazy bitch got the jump on her," Van seethed. "That's it. I gotta get the fuck outta here."

"Whoa, man," Deaq rested a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from fleeing. "Where you going?"

"My question, exactly."

The two men turned to see Captain Parish standing a few feet away. Van opened his mouth, fully intending to vent his frustration at the man, but felt Deaq squeeze his shoulder, almost to the point of pain. He immediately reeled in his temper as best he could. "I can't sit here on my ass looking at hair samples and paint scratches while Billie is out there somewhere at the mercy of some psycho." He paused, meaningfully. "Sir."

If Parish was annoyed at the young man's attitude, he didn't show it. "You planning on knocking on every door in LA?" he asked calmly.

"At least, I'd be doing something," Van retorted. "Because, right now, I feel pretty fucking useless."

"You want to do something?" the captain queried. "Be a cop. Think with your head, or you will be useless." He watched Van deflating a bit, and addressed his next question to Deaq. "What about a Triggerfish?"

The detective shook his head. "Nothing yet." He could see Parish' gaze wander toward a certain young blonde standing nearby.

"She ID'd the car," Deaq supplied, unsure as to why he suddenly felt a bit protective of Sara. Maybe it was because he knew she cared about Billie. And since his boss wasn't here to look out for her, a part of him thought someone needed to do it in her absence.

"Then, that still leaves us with the big question, gentlemen: What does Felicia Ralston want with Billie?" Parish questioned, looking at each of them in turn.

The two young men exchanged a look, but said nothing.

The room was dark, save for the gentle warmth of candlelight casting long shadows that flickered and danced across the bare walls. There was a single exposed metal girder running across the ceiling, thick heavy rope coiled around its center. A few cords hung down, pulled taut by the weight of the body suspended beneath it.

Felicia moved, silently, her expression contemplative as she lit a few more candles resting on a small table near the corner. The glow was both comforting and titillating to her, and her eyes continually wandered over to rest on the room's only other occupant, who remained still and unmoving, as if willfully trying to build her anticipation to a fevered pitch.

With a few quiet steps, she found herself standing in front of Billie's unconscious form. The young detective's arms were stretched up above her head, wrists bound together, tightly. Her chin rested on her chest, leaving her long, dark hair covering her face like a shroud.

Having prepared everything to her satisfaction, Felicia needed to perform one final task. She removed a piece of cloth from her pocket, stopping to finger the soft material before reaching out with both hands and lifting Billie's head, gently, tilting it back so her face was now exposed and pointed toward the ceiling.

She walked behind the brunette and covered her closed eyes with the black scarf, being careful to tie it comfortably, but firmly. The tips of her fingers traced the edges, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of silk against skin, and she leaned in to whisper, softly, "Don't keep me waiting too long, Billie."

A quiet moan brought a smile to her lips.

"Miss Matthews."

Sara looked over at the man as he approached, eyeing him with a look of distrust. She couldn't help it. Her lover might be a cop, but the rest of them still got her fur up, and she automatically folded her arms across her chest, her stance already full of attitude.

"I'm Robert Parish," the man told her, not bothering with gestures of civility. "Billie works for me."

"What's going on?" she immediately asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

He certainly talked like a cop. "Look, Mr. Parish-"

"Captain."

"Whatever," she continued on. "I already told them everything I know," she replied with a brief glance toward the two young men watching them. "Now, how about you tell me what's being done to find her?"

Parish studied her for a moment, thankful that she seemed to be just as shocked by Billie's apparent abduction as everyone else. Unfortunately, it also confirmed his suspicions about the extent of their relationship, which, for the sake of Billie's career, he'd hoped had been completely off the mark. "We're pulling out all the stops, but it would help if we knew more."

Sara stared back at him, trying to get a sense of this man who might be her only hope of finding Billie. His face was inscrutable, but something about him told her that his concern was more than just a professional one. "If I knew more, I would tell you."

The captain nodded as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Instead of giving me facts, let's talk about your personal observations." The blonde opened her mouth to speak, but quickly snapped it shut and looked away. "Miss Matthews, I'm not exactly blind to what's been going on between you and Billie, which means that, right now, you are the only person that can shed any light on this."

"Look," Sara finally relented with a heavy sigh. "You may not believe this, but Billie kept me in the dark just as much as everyone else about her dealings with Felicia."

"I don't doubt that," Parish replied, all too familiar with the young lieutenant's reticent nature. "But, I understand that you and Felicia had a run in earlier today." He quickly lifted a hand to stop her from responding. "I'm not saying that I think you have any culpability here. But, I do think that you're holding something back. Maybe you think it's irrelevant. I don't." He hovered over her, lowering his voice to a more dangerous tone. "Billie is in serious trouble here and finding her is my top priority."

The blonde narrowed her eyes at him. "It's my only priority."

"Then, tell me why Felicia was here today," Parish pressed on, fully aware that she was already carefully crafting her response.

"She came to see Billie." There was the barest hint of hesitation. "But, she wasn't here."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Sara answered impatiently. "And I don't see how any of this is helping us find out where Billie is..." She put a slightly trembling hand to her forehead and looked beyond him, the empty parking space almost mocking her.

"Because, I think you're hiding something."

Her blue eyes locked on his brown ones and immediately she knew what he was thinking. "Look, this isn't about me, okay?" she said hotly. "Felicia is fucking crazy. She went after Billie because she's totally fixated on her. Don't you get that?"

Van and Deaq approached them and she turned her anger and frustration on them. "Why the hell are you all standing around here staring at me like I have the answers? You're the ones that are supposed to be looking out for her!"

"Hey, you were the reason she came back here," Van quickly retorted. "And speaking of which, if it weren't for you and Jill, we wouldn't even be standing here!"

Deaq stepped in between them just in time to catch Sara's arm as she raised it to take a swing at Van. "Hey, come on!" He held her by the wrists and yanked hard enough to get her attention. When her furious gaze settled on him, he could see the tears threatening and willed himself to speak calmly, despite his own desire to let loose on someone. "None of this is helping Billie, so let's all just chill out for a minute, alright?"

Van glared at him. "If you want to sit here and play nursemaid to her, be my guest, but I'm outta here." He turned and stormed off in the direction of his car.

Sara pulled away from Deaq. "I have to get the hell out of here."

"Miss Matthews," Parish called after her after as she started to walk away. "We're not done here." The blonde completely ignored him and headed toward Billie's SUV. An officer standing nearby glanced at Parish as he moved to stop her, but the captain merely shook his head.

Deaq released a heavy sigh as he watched her leave. "I don't think she's involved in this."

Parish gave him a skeptical look. "She may not know what happened to Billie, but she is most definitely involved."

Van suddenly pulled up beside them and leaned his head out the window. "You coming?"

"Yeah," Deaq nodded before turning his attention back to the captain. "We'll work a few angles.see what's what."

"Keep me posted," the captain ordered. "Got that?"

"I got it," Deaq acknowledged.

Parish watched as Van and Deaq followed the same path Sara had taken a moment ago, his stoic façade still fastened, firmly, into place. The only outward expression of stress and anxiety he would allow himself was a quick rub of his fingers along his brow.

"Wherever you are, Billie," he muttered softly. "Hang in there."

Pain.

The unpleasant sensation wormed its way into Billie's drugged mind as she struggled to wakefulness. Everything hurt. Her muscles flexed in response to the severe discomfort, and her movements caused a terrible cramping in her shoulders. She sucked in a quick breath and held it, instinctively trying to pull her arms closer to her body in order to relieve the strain - only to discover that she couldn't.

That realization propelled her into action and she began to thrash about, ignoring the pain and focusing on freeing her arms from whatever was holding them in place. She opened her eyes.or at least she thought she did, but all she could see was darkness.

Her motions ceased as a rush of comprehension finally broke through the fog that still lingered and she fought, desperately, to push down the panic threatening to overwhelm her. Still feeling disoriented, the young woman bowed her head, slightly, and pressed her face against the inside of her arm, almost breathing a sigh of relief when she felt the cloth touching her skin. At least, that was one question answered.

Slowly drawing a few deep breaths, Billie took a moment to gather her thoughts, which were somewhat murky, bringing her to the conclusion that she'd been given some kind of sedative to put her out.

The last clear memory she had was of leaving the apartment and heading down to the garage. The `Vette was parked in its usual spot, and she'd been about to get in when something stopped her.

She stiffened recalling the feel of the taser on her back. She'd been struck with stun guns before during training exercises back when she was still a beat cop, but whatever had hit her was much more intense than she remembered. It had certainly brought her down quickly and efficiently, and had left her vulnerable to whatever happened afterwards. Unfortunately, that was the one critical detail that still eluded her.

Other sensations were now creeping into her body and mind, and Billie became more alert to her predicament. She had no idea where she was, or how long she'd been out. She tried working at the bindings holding her hands aloft, but numbness had already settled into her fingers, and she only succeeded in causing more pain from the rope biting into her wrists. Her ankles were tied in a similar fashion, but she discovered that by stretching her legs she could just barely touch the floor, and she balanced, precariously, on the tip of one boot in an attempt to give her wrists some much needed relief.

A ghostly touch against her cheek made her jump, and she quickly recoiled, spinning her head around in that direction. "Felicia?"

Silence.

"I know you're there," Billie rasped, swallowing hard against the dryness in her throat. The rational part of her mind was telling her to be careful. The woman was already unbalanced, and the fact that she'd now committed murder meant she had little to lose. "Talk to me, goddammit!" A firm tug on the back of her shirt startled the young detective and she tried to pull away, grunting in pain as her full weight bore down on her arms, once again, the pressure on her shoulders becoming almost unbearable.

The fabric was being cut away from her body and Billie struggled in her bonds, doing a half-spin as she tried to raise her legs, hoping she could strike a blow at her unseen attacker. But, whatever was holding them together was also keeping them anchored to the floor.

She hissed as something sharp pierced the skin on her back and she had to stop herself, knowing that her frantic motions could do her more harm. What remained of her shirt was finally torn off with a single, vicious yank, and she shivered at the unwanted exposure.

"What are you doing, Felicia?" Billie called out, angrily, sensing movement all around her. Getting no response, she held still for a moment, trying to catch any sound that might reveal the woman's location. "Is this your way of getting what you want from me? We've been going round and round all this time.and for what? So you could tie me up and fuck around with me? Is that what this is about?" Her voice was strong and steady, without a trace of the fear she was feeling inside.

"Ssh."

Warm breath tickled her ear, and Billie turned her head, only to feel the touch of cold steel against her cheek. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to pull away as it traced the edge of her jaw and slid down, teasingly, along the slender contour of her throat. Her heart was racing, waiting for the blade to pierce her skin, and her tormentor pressed the sharpened point to her vein, the pulse pounding beneath it in response.

"Don't be afraid, elsker," whispered a soft, seductive voice.

Despite her best efforts, Billie could feel her body trembling, every muscle wrung and exhausted from the punishment they'd already endured. "I'm not," she lied. Soft, lilting laughter filled the impenetrable darkness around her.

"I almost believe you."

"Take off the blindfold," the lieutenant demanded, trying to remain calm. Several agonizing minutes ticked by and Billie could feel the woman's presence hovering close, purposefully making her wait, wanting to see her anxiety build.

Finally, the woman responded, "As you wish." The movement was swift and reckless, the tip of the blade cutting into silk and skin with equal ease. The cloth was sheared away from Billie's face, leaving a thin trail of blood running down from her brow. "Hmm.it would appear I'm out of practice."

Billie barely noticed as she squinted, trying to focus her blurred vision and take in her surroundings. At first glance, the space around her was little more than shadow and light, shifting ominously with the flicker of each candle.

The room was unfamiliar. There were no discerning features that might give an indication as to where she was. From what she could make out through the dimness, there were also no windows, and only one door was visible from her point of view.

Taking in as many details as she could, something caught Billie's eye and she dropped her gaze to the floor. Still struggling to see clearly, it took several seconds for her to comprehend what she was looking at. A pair of arms slid around her from behind, encircling her waist as the fingertips stroked across her taut abdomen and hot breath scalded her neck.

"Now do you see, Billie?" Felicia asked softly. "This is all about you. It always has been."

The pictures were strewn about in seemingly random order, fanning around them in small arcs that grew wider as Billie's eyes followed the trail across the room, where they were eventually swallowed up by the darkness.

From everywhere, familiar faces stared back at her. All the photographs she'd thought were long gone now lay out before her like some kind of crazy collage.

"You took them?" the detective finally managed to say, still not quite believing what she was seeing.

"Actually, it was David," Felicia answered, wistfully, the barest hint of regret in her voice. "He went inside the house shortly before the explosion." Her tone suddenly brightened, as she added, "Imagine how delighted I was when he surprised me with your little treasure trove."

Billie's expression hardened, now wishing that everything had been destroyed, rather than saved as some kind of perverted tool to be used against her. It was just too much, all of it way too personal. In the past, she'd been beaten, stabbed, shot, and had a host of other punishments inflicted on her, but no one had ever gotten to her in this way, using the intimate details of her life as a means to break her down.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" she suddenly erupted in a blind rage, trying to lash out with everything she had, not caring what Felicia would do to her as she pulled and twisted against the ropes, anger and adrenaline momentarily masking the shards of pain that radiated up and down her body.

The blonde stepped back and watched, passively, as the young woman quickly wore herself out with her futile exertions. Seizing an opportunity, Felicia reached out with one hand and grabbed a fistful of dark hair, pulling back, savagely, until Billie was forced to arch her back. She hovered over the lieutenant, her face moving down to glare into a pair of hate-filled eyes as she brought her other hand up and pressed the knife to Billie's exposed throat. "I understand that you're angry, Billie, but I'm only doing all of this for your own good."

"Fuck you," Billie spat in defiance.

The blade left her throat and was halfway into her shoulder before the pain even registered, all the while the two women's gazes remaining locked on one another. Billie's face scrunched up in agony as the knife slid out, the flawless metal now stained with her blood, its dark wetness shining in the subtle glow of candlelight.

"I can hurt you in ways you can't possibly begin to imagine," Felicia whispered, menacingly. "You'd be wise to remember that."

Tears of pain stung the brunette's eyes as she looked up into Felicia's cold, cruel gaze. She was finally being given a true glimpse into the woman's darker personality, and what she was seeing was far worse than she could have imagined.

She knew now that Jill's murder hadn't been a fluke. Felicia may not have planned it, but she executed her former lover without hesitation. It wasn't a crime of passion. It wasn't anger. It wasn't even panic.

And it definitely wasn't her first time.

"It was you," Billie released the words through a ragged breath, her shoulder throbbing, painfully, with every beat of her heart. "You killed them."

Felicia suddenly released her hold and walked around the younger woman, slowly dragging the flat of the blade along the gentle curve of Billie's hip, leaving a crimson trail across worn, faded denim. As they faced each other, even with the knife hovering dangerously close, Billie's startling blue eyes never wavered from hers, and the blonde could feel her desire growing more intense with each passing second.

"I was hoping you would be the one to discover the truth, Billie," Felicia admitted. "And, as always, you haven't disappointed me."

Billie's mind was reeling. All along she thought David was the killer. It had made perfect sense, given his background. He fit the profile to a tee. The fact that his most recent crimes had been committed with a gun only meant that his MO had changed, which was not unusual when killers continued their spree over a long period of time.

But, she'd been wrong.

And now, here she was, face to face with perhaps the most exceptional breed of killer. Female serial murderers were extremely rare. Even more uncommon was the woman who killed for reasons other than monetary gain or a warped sense of mercy. Billie didn't yet know what motivations drove Felicia, but the one characteristic that certainly fit her was the need for power and control, two things the young lieutenant could very much appreciate at that moment.

"What do you want from me?" Billie questioned in a strained voice.

"It's not what I want from you," the blonde corrected her. "But, rather.for you."

Given her situation, the detective had little patience for word games, but her aching shoulder was a reminder to her that keeping the woman talking might be the only thing stopping her from delivering more of the same. "Which is what?" she asked, her body trembling from pain and shock.

"You have so much potential, Billie," Felicia explained, her dark eyes and the knife she held constantly in motion across her prisoner's bare midriff. "But, you also have certain.constraints. I'm going to help you overcome them."

"Why?"

"As I told you before, the two of us are very much alike."

"Yeah, we're like two peas in a pod," Billie answered derisively, her tone sounding a bit distracted as her own gaze followed the weapon's movement.

"We're both killers, are we not?" The blonde looked up and caught Billie's eye.

"It's my job to protect people," the lieutenant said firmly. "Sometimes, in order to do that, someone dies."

"Indeed," Felicia responded, her eyes locking onto the tip of the blade as she raised it up and held it in front of Billie's face. "Which is precisely the point of all of this."

"What point?" the young detective finally pleaded with her. "What the hell is this about, Felicia?"

"Protecting you, Billie." Felicia bent down and picked up a photograph, holding it up to the young woman's confused gaze.

It was a picture of Sara. One that Billie had never seen before.

"And, as you stated so eloquently, sometimes in order to do that." She suddenly skewered Sara's image with the tip of her knife.

Billie tried to stop the fear from showing in her eyes as she stared at the picture in Felicia's hand, immediately grasping the horrifying implication, but she couldn't stop the echo of her own words from filling her mind.

.someone dies.

Sara walked down the alley and straight to the side door as Felicia had told her to do. Glancing around, cautiously, she pulled on the handle, not at all surprised to find it unlocked.

Her hand moved to the gun tucked into the back of her pants, more as a comfort than anything else. She didn't know if Felicia could see her, so she thought it best to keep it concealed for the moment.

Stepping inside the dimly lit hallway, she noticed a few garage doors to her right, each one leading to a small parking bay. Her eyes fell on the last car in the row.

Billie's Corvette.

Seeing it sitting there in plain view was unnerving. Felicia didn't seem the least bit concerned with anyone finding it.

"Take the stairs straight ahead."

The young blonde had been so focused on the car that she jumped at the unnaturally loud sound of Felicia's voice in her ear. She turned and walked down the short corridor, stopping as she put her foot on the first stair.

She could do this. She had to. "What floor?"

"I always prefer to be on top," Felicia replied in a seductive tone. "Just ask Billie."

Ignoring the woman's attempts at baiting her, Sara began her ascent. Her strong, well-toned legs took the stairs two at a time, heart pounding, breath quickening, and upon reaching the top floor, she carefully slipped the gun out and held it behind her.

She stood in front of the only door. Even though the phone was still pressed to her ear, she called out, "I'm here." Getting no response, she glanced at the cell phone.

The call had ended.

She snapped it shut and tucked it away, bringing the gun up in front of her. There was no element of surprise here, but her instincts told her the situation still warranted going in as quietly as possible.

With a quick wipe of her hand on her pant leg, Sara reached out and turned the doorknob, giving the door a gentle push, causing it to swing wide. She stepped inside and pointed the gun, sweeping back and forth as she tried to take in a full view of the room.

It was empty.

She looked around, taking slow, careful steps and trying to keep her back to the nearest wall. The cavernous loft had an `L' shaped layout and the two outside walls were lined with oversized windows, allowing a generous amount of moonlight to filter through.

As Sara walked further, she noticed a door on her left leading to what looked like a smaller room that took up the remaining corner of space. She stared at it for a moment before deciding to check the rest of the surrounding area first. She crept further along, peering around the corner, but all she could see were two small sofas sitting in the middle of the floor.

She leaned back again and took a deep breath, silently easing back the way she came. The gun suddenly felt very heavy in her hands.

With deliberate slowness, she moved back to the second door and opened it. Although her eyes had adjusted to the lack of lighting, the room beyond seemed almost pitch.until she stepped inside and noticed the small flicker of candles.

The shock of seeing her lover strung up and covered in her own blood made Sara forget about everything else, and she immediately charged across the small room.

"Billie.Oh, God!"

Billie hung, motionless, scarcely able to lift her head. She heard the familiar voice, but for a split-second, thought she had imagined it. She opened her eyes and made a small noise.

Sara looked around, but could see nothing in the surrounding darkness. She tucked the gun in her pants and reached for Billie, cupping her face and talking in a soothing tone. "Billie.Billie, it's me. Can you hear me?" She looked into the brunette's eyes, trying to get her to focus on her.

The young lieutenant felt warm hands touching her face and she realized that the voice wasn't a hallucination at all. She groaned around the gag in her mouth, suddenly remembering where she was.

"It's okay, Billie," Sara whispered softly. "I'll get you out of here." She looked up at the ropes, longingly, wishing she had a knife.

Becoming more alert, Billie began shaking her head in a somewhat frantic motion. She tried to talk, but could only make weak, pathetic mewling sounds.

"I know," Sara acknowledged her lover's warning as she reached around her to remove the gag. "Felicia's here somewhere. But, I can't leave you like this. I just want-"

Billie could feel Sara's body lurch against her, the arms around her suddenly stiffening before slumping down against her shoulders. Their gazes locked, and she could see the pain erupting from the depths of Sara's cornflower blue eyes.

Sara opened her mouth, but no sound would come. She wanted so desperately to hold onto Billie, to comfort her, to tell her everything would be all right, but her body betrayed her and she fell to the floor at her lover's feet.

Billie watched her fall, the feeling of those strong, loving hands slipping away from her like having her heart torn out. She couldn't breath. She couldn't even move. Inside, her mind was screaming, but outwardly, she was frozen in place, as if denying the release of her agony could somehow stop it all from happening.

Felicia knelt down beside Sara, her hand still clutching the knife, both covered with the young woman's blood. She leaned over her and drew the blonde's head around with her free hand, turning her away from Billie. "I told you, Sara.Billie belongs to me."

Sara could feel her heartbeat slowing down, all the warmth in her body seeping out from beneath her. This couldn't be it. It wasn't fair. She and Billie had only just found each other, had only just moved in together. They hadn't even had a chance to celebrate.

To have dinner.to dance.to make love in the home they now shared.

The young woman closed her eyes.

Billie's paralysis was finally broken, and though her cries were unintelligible, Felicia knew it was only one word she screamed out over and over again.