Chapter 8

When the doors open, Olivia leads us into a large room where several detectives are hunched over desks, looking through files and photos.

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/N L/N and SSA Jennifer Jareau from the FBI. Ladies, this is my team: Carisi, Finn, and Rollins.”

“Pleasure to meet everyone,” I say, scanning the room. “Has the vic in the ICU been interviewed?”

Olivia nods, her expression somber. “She’s still in critical condition, but she’s awake. The doctors said she’s stable enough to speak, but we haven’t attempted an interview yet. We were waiting for you two before we made that move.”

I glance over at JJ, who’s already assessing the situation, her mind working just as quickly as mine. “We’ll need to be careful with her,” JJ says quietly, flipping through the case files. “The last thing we want to do is overwhelm or push her too hard.”

Olivia agrees, “Exactly. We’ll be sensitive about the approach. I’ll go with you, but if you need me to step out, just let me know.”

“Ok, before we head over to the hospital, what else do we have?” I said, looking at the surveillance video they have displayed on the TV.

Carisi, a young detective with a sharp look in his eye, speaks up. “We’ve been looking through surveillance footage from all the locations where the victims were found. There’s a lot of overlap between the first and second victim’s locations, but it’s mostly fragmented.”

“Anything at all that stands out?” I ask

Carisi shifts the screen, pulling up a few grainy clips. “There’s a guy we’ve seen in both areas, but we can’t get a clear shot of his face. He’s always in the background—near the bar, walking near the park—but never close enough to be caught fully on camera.”

I study the footage closely, my eyes narrowing. “Could be our guy.”

“I think so,” Finn adds, his voice gravelly. He’s a seasoned detective, calm under pressure. “But without a clearer image, it’s a dead end for now.”

“Let’s keep working on that footage and see if we can find anything else,” I say, turning to Olivia. “We’re going to need all the pieces to this puzzle if we’re going to catch him.”

“Got it. I’ll make sure the tech team does a full sweep of everything we’ve collected,” Olivia says before turning to her team. “Let’s get to work, people.”

They all get to work trying to find any clue. Benson, JJ and I drove to the hospital to see if we could get anything out of the survivor. As soon as we arrived, the doctor greeted us.

“I assume you’re from NYPD. She’s stable, but she’s touch and go with her sleep. She has defensive wounds on her hands, and we found signs of sexual assault. No signs of fluid.”

I nod, processing the information, Was there any sign of strangulation or trauma to her neck?”

The doctor looks at his notes briefly before responding. “No strangulation marks, but there are signs of blunt force trauma to her head and arms. She’s lucky to be alive, honestly. The injuries aren’t as severe as they could have been, but they’re still significant.”

JJ gives me a glance, her expression serious. “Can we talk to her? Is she lucid enough?”

The doctor hesitates, clearly reluctant. “She’s conscious but fragile. She’s asked for the police, so it seems she’s in a good state of mind, but she may get disoriented quickly. I’d recommend a gentle approach.”

“We’ll be careful,” I reassure him, trying to give him a sense of confidence. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

We make our way down the sterile hallway to the victim’s room. As we step inside, I see the woman lying in the bed. She’s pale bruised, but her eyes are sharp as she watches us enter. There’s something in those eyes—tired, haunted, but determined. She’s been through hell, but she’s still fighting.

“Hi, Lacie,” I say gently, approaching her bed slowly. “My name is SSA Y/N L/N with the FBI. This is SSA Jennifer Jareau and Lieutenant Benson from the NYPD. I know you’ve been through a lot, but we’re here to help. Is there anything you remember the night you were attacked?”

“I remember leaving my friend’s bachelorette party, and that’s all I remember.”

“Ok, is it ok if we take you through a cognitive interview? All you have to do is relax.” JJ asks

I glance at JJ, her expression tight with concern. Lacie’s exhaustion is palpable, and the steady rise and fall of her chest tells me that she’s slipped back into a much-needed rest. Pushing her any further right now wouldn’t help.

JJ nods gently, her eyes softening as she looks at the victim. “We’ll let her sleep. She’s been through too much.”

I sigh quietly, making a mental note of all the details we’ve gathered so far. Her account was invaluable, but it’s still just the tip of the iceberg. There’s so much we don’t know, and I feel the pressure of time weighing down on us. This guy is still out there, and every second we waste brings him closer to his next victim.

“We’ll give her some time,” I say, lowering my voice. “Maybe after a few hours, we can try again. We need her to be alert, not foggy.”

Olivia, who had been listening in quietly, steps forward. “I’ll get a room ready for her, and I’ll have the nurse update us on her condition in an hour. She deserves rest, and so do we. Let’s regroup and see what we’ve got so far.”

With a subtle nod, JJ and I follow Olivia out of the room. We head back to the task force space, where Carisi, Rollins, and Finn are huddled around a table, sorting through more case files and witness reports. The air is thick with tension as everyone works quickly, their faces set in determined expressions.

“Anything?” I ask, not even bothering to sit down as I approach the table. My mind is already racing with potential leads, ideas, and half-formed thoughts.

Carisi looks up first, holding up a stack of photographs. “We’ve got some footage from security cams around the area where Lacie was attacked. It’s not much—just him moving in and out of the frame. But we’ve also got a couple of witnesses who claim they saw someone matching the description hanging around the park a few days before the incident. Same clothes, same smell. It’s a start.”

I take the photos from him and scan the images. It’s not much, but it’s something. The man’s face is partially obscured, but the way he moves—deliberate and controlled—is unmistakable. He’s not some random predator. He’s organized methodical, and every movement is calculated.

“Good,” I say, nodding. “We’ll follow up on the witnesses. Get a sketch artist in here, and let’s see if we can get something more definitive, then we’ll release the photo to the public.”

Rollins speaks up, her voice low but sharp. “We also found traces of the cologne on one of the victim’s jackets. It’s a high-end brand, very specific. We’re running the name through a database now to see if we can find any matches—anyone who’s bought it in the area recently.”

JJ crosses her arms. “That’s a good lead. We need to follow that up immediately. A signature like that—he’s probably not the only one in the area with access to it.”

I look at Olivia, who’s been quietly listening. “Anything from the medical team?”

“They’re processing the trauma, but they don’t have anything concrete that helps identify him. No prints, no DNA that’s not the victim’s. But they’re still going through her clothing and the scene for anything we missed. We may have to wait for forensic confirmation.”

I nod in agreement. “We’re running out of time. If we don’t catch him soon, he’ll escalate again. I can feel it.”

Olivia’s eyes meet mine, filled with understanding. “I know. But we’re getting there. Every step counts. We just need to keep pushing.”

I give a quick look at JJ, who is already scribbling notes, her eyes sharp as ever. “Let’s push, then. We can’t afford to miss anything.”

The team begins working with renewed urgency, pulling together every lead, every witness statement, and every shred of evidence. I know we still have a long road ahead of us, but now we have direction. We have clues. And it’s enough to give me hope.

As I sit back down and review the photos Carisi handed me, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re getting closer. The puzzle pieces are starting to fit together, and I won’t rest until we have him.

“Alright,” I say, standing back up. “Let’s move on the cologne lead. I want to know who’s connected to that brand. We need to trace every detail. We’re not going to let him slip through the cracks.”

Olivia gets a call, and her face turns pale, he has hit again.

“OK, we have another vic in Central Park. Joggers found the body in a bush; uniforms were waiting for someone to arrive. Y/N and JJ, do you mind heading over, I’ll send you the location.”

“We’re on it,” JJ said, looking up from her papers.

The air was frigid as JJ and I stepped out of the car, the familiar sting of the cold biting at my skin, but there was no time to focus on the chill. We needed to get to work. Flashing our credentials to the uniformed officer at the perimeter, we made our way toward the crime scene, the sound of distant sirens ringing in the city.

“I’m SSA L/N and SSA Jennifer Jareau. What do we got?” I say, asking the medical examiner who was examining the body.

“Same M.O. as your last victim. Blunt force trauma to the head, defensive wounds on her hands, and lacerations on her wrists. However, no signs of sexual assault.”

“He’s really not making it easy for us, huh? Always one step away.” JJ said, looking at me.

We searched the area to see if we could find the weapon that the suspect had used, but nothing turned up. We went back to the crime scene, and you could cut the tension with a knife. JJ and I made our way to the conference room, where everyone was sitting, eating pizza.

“Ok, same M.O., but no signs of sexual assault. I’m sure it is the same guy, though,” I said as I picked up a slice of pizza. “I think we all head home, get some rest and look at this with fresh eyes in the morning. I’ll get a hold of our technical analyst to see if she can get anywhere with the cologne.”

The team seemed relieved to hear it. We are all running on fumes. JJ and I grabbed our things and went back to my apartment in Manhattan.

We arrived at my place and settled in. I could hear the city hum outside, but inside, it was peaceful—quiet for the moment. JJ sank into the couch with a sigh, pulling out her phone. The city lights flickered outside, casting soft shadows across the room. I handed JJ a glass of wine, our fingers brushing lightly as she took it from me. The brief touch lingered longer than usual, something unspoken between us.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft, but there was a warmth to it that made my heart do the same thing that it does when I look at her.

I nodded, taking a sip of my wine, but my eyes never left her. She looked so relaxed and calm. Her hair was slightly tousled from the drive.

“You’ve been quiet,” I said, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

JJ looked at me over her glass, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Just thinking,” she replied, her eyes flickering toward the window before meeting mine again. “It’s nice to take a moment, you know? Not always running from one thing to the next.”

I gave a soft laugh, a little too aware of how close we were. “Yeah, I get that.” I paused for a second, unsure of how to phrase what I was feeling. “I’m glad you’re here, you were my number one pick to come up here with me.”

Her gaze softened, and she set her glass down, moving closer on the couch. “I’m glad I’m here too.” Her voice was quiet, and the space between us seemed to shrink with each second.

And in that moment, everything seemed to shift—her fingers brushed against mine, and without another word, I found myself closing the distance between us. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like both of us were testing the waters.

When we finally pulled away, neither of us said anything at first. My mind was still processing what had just happened. A couple of seconds pass, and I finish off my glass of wine and pour myself another.

“JJ, I’m sorry. I-” I was stopped by another kiss.

JJ pulled away and just looked at me. Her voice was low. “Y/N, don’t apologize. You don’t need to say anything.”

“Okay,” I whispered, still processing everything. “I just didn’t plan this.”

JJ smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “I know, but sometimes, things don’t have to be planned.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, the air between us suddenly lighter, the weight of the case and the exhaustion slipping away for a moment. “I guess not.”

She took a deep breath, her hand finding mine again, fingers intertwining in the familiar way that felt both comforting and electrifying at the same time.

“You don’t always have to overthink things, Y/N,” she murmured, her thumb grazing the back of my hand. “Let’s just… see where this goes.”

I kissed the back of her hand and rested our hands on her lap while I reached for the remote on the coffee table.

As soon as I turned on the TV, JJ straddled my lap, grabbing my face and meeting my lips with hers. I deepened the kiss, my hands moving instinctively to her waist, pulling her closer as the tension built, every touch sending a surge of warmth through me.

She broke the kiss just enough to breathe; I started tracing the line of her jaw. “Are you sure about this?” I whispered, “I’ve never wanted anything more, though a part of me wanted to be careful and not rush anything.

JJ’s eyes were dark, her chest rising and falling against mine as she nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Before I could respond, she kissed me again, more urgently this time, as if she was making up for lost time.