Page 28 of Sullied Saints

"He threatened you." Dirk’s voice comes soft, strained almost, and it takes me a second to catch up, to remember. "I stopped thinking."

Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath, and turn to face him, the wall at my back now. I cup his cheek. No words come, and with his face turned down towards mine, cast into shadow, I know this is enough. We don’t need words.

Another moment, another breath. Dirk lifts his head slightly. "Hopefully, Tawill's not outside the door, huh?"

The room on the other side of the door is, thank God, empty.

With one last furtive kiss that leaves me blushing, Dirk slips away to the men’s locker room and I make for the bathroom.

It won't do to go back to work smelling of sex.

***

Tawill finds Dirk, of course.

When she comes into the ‘Brainstorming Room’ or whatever title Chloe has given it, Dirk, me, Howie, Dean and Chloe are gathered around one of the station’s only PC units, a thick grey thing with more cords than I understand coming from it. Chloe is at the helm, showing us what she's found on the small, slightly convex screen. "…where she's talking to them."

"So, it’s some kind of… group?" Howie tries.

"Yeah! A forum!" Chloe, apparently more familiar with this concept than any of us, chirps. "You can have them for anything."

"How many people can be on one?"

"Well, an infinite amount! As long as they have computers and internet."

"Shit."

"Found something of interest, detectives?" Tawill interrupts.

Dean straightens, gesturing at the computer. "We think we've found where our laundromat killer was talking to Cocooner. Some kind of online chat spot."

Tawill frowns. "Are there more she's speaking to?"

I clear my throat. "According to what we can see… about two hundred people, or accounts at least, are talking to her."

For a moment, Tawill is silent. The implications are not good. Not when any of them might be at least nearly as crazy as our first killer, and with someone like Cassandra in their ear… "Can you identify these others? Can you trace it back to her?"

"Not so far, but we're working on it. There's a lot of anonymity."

After a pause, Dean asks, “Are you worried at all about the protestors?”

Tawill sighs, shrugging just slightly. Her silk shirt is perfectly pressed, not a crease on it. “They are fast turning into rioters, but they’ve been cleared from the front of the precinct for now.”

“Conrad could bring them back,” I point out.

Her face darkens. “Let me worry about Conrad. Of course, I don’t need to point out that a Cocooner arrest would take the heat off. Possibly enough to get Needler through court and into a real cell, finally.” Taking a breath, she admits, “But for now…”

“We’re stuck with him. And them.” Dean asserts.

“Yes.” Then, to what she really came here for. "Dirk, I would have thought you’d have brought yourself to my office by now."

I cringe, Dean and Howie look between each other, then at Dirk. "Has something happened?"

Tawill tilts her chin towards Dirk, who stands looking just slightly shamefaced. "Well, this morning, your fellow detective here assaulted a suspect."

Howie scoffs like he doesn't believe it for a minute, then he looks at Dirk, who remains silent and clearly guilty. "That’s not like you, son."

Somehow, those words from Howie bring greater shame to Dirk's face than anything else has.

---