New Year's Resolutions

(Christmas Crimes was part 1 of this story)

It was only a few days after Kevin's murder. We still had no leads and the lack of progress was wearing on me. 15 years on the job had taught me that these things take time, but patience has never been a virtue that I possess in great quantities.

All around me, people were celebrating the end of 2010 and welcoming the new year. I sat alone at the end of the bar, my best "fuck off" expression plastered across my face. The bartender brought me another drink and wordlessly slunk away.

It was a cop bar. Uniformed and plain clothes surrounded me. The camaraderie usually is a comfort. Today it was an annoyance. I felt their eyes, watching me, silently condemning me for each drink I threw back. I wanted to scream "It's not my fault! The fucker left no clues! It was a damn perfect crime!" Instead, I signaled to the bartender to bring my bill. As I was about to leave, he grabbed my arm. "You Summers? There's a call for you."

I stomped to the back of the bar to the phones. The voice on the other end was mechanical and cold. It sobered me immediately. "Sorry about your partner, detective. But he wasn't the man you thought he was. He had to die."

I'm going to put you in a cage, you son of a bitch. You will pay for what you did.

"Now, now, detective. There will be more like him. 11 more chances for you to catch me. 11 more times I will get away. 11 more victims. The next one will die tonight - at midnight."

Tell me where you are you asshole.

"Where's the fun in that detective. You have an hour. Catch me if you can." The phone went dead. I fumbled for my cell, forcing shaking fingers to call in a trace on the call. The guy probably used a disposable pre-paid, which would make tracking the call impossible. Still, there was a small glimmer of hope that he slipped up.

I forced my foggy brain to focus. Trying to slip into the mind of a killer was rough, but it was damned near impossible after... who knows how many...rounds of jack. The guy clearly wanted attention. If I wanted to make a public spectacle of myself, where would I go?

The answer came in a flash. I raced from the bar, lights and sirens blazing. This close to midnight, the roads were mercifully clear. I pulled my car up to the curb and sprinted into the amphitheater. Damned near a thousand people were inside watching the concert. Music blared. Lights flashed. Smoke billowed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement in the rafters. Racing up the stairs, my heart pounding with the thrill of the chase. Pausing on the top of the staircase, I quickly surveyed the area. The catwalk was cloaked in shadows, but in the darkness, I saw movement. I ran toward the figure gun drawn. "Freeze, asshole!" I commanded, gun trained on the figure's torso. He turned toward me slowly, hands raised. The pimple-faced kid worked for the theater and probably pissed his pants he was so scared.

I thought about apologizing for traumatizing the poor boy, but then I heard the first scream. Followed by thousands more. A corpse swung from the rafters. I was too late. Again.

Fucking bastard. I will catch you. You will pay.

New year's resolutions...let's hope I can keep this one.