Leslie stepped forward. "Forgive me for being so ignorant about all this, but the shelter, it provides meals, cots, right?"

"Yes. And clothing when we can get it."

"Yet not everyone takes advantage of it."

"Sadly, no. Of course, if they all did, we would run out quickly, I'm afraid. We issue tickets for showers. Two per week. We try to find work for them, those that are able, those that are willing. If we can find them a job, eventually, we can find them low-income housing. We try to get them off the streets. But it's a losing battle."

"Anyone can come in and eat though, right?"

61.

*"Yes. And even though we offer cots, only during the coldest days of winter are they filled. They would rather be on the street. That's where they're more comfortable."

Casey pulled out her card and handed it to Maria. "You can reach me day or night. If you have any more information, or you hear something..."

"Of course, Detective."

Casey turned to go, but Leslie grabbed her arm, stopping her. "What is it you think Rudy saw, Maria? What would get him killed?"

She shrugged. "He saw a crime, I would assume."

"What kind of crime?"

"Oh, it could be anything. But obviously it was something this Patrick doesn't want revealed."

"How do you know this?" Casey asked.

"Because he was screaming, aI won't tell, I won't tell,' before he died."

"Jesus." Casey shook her head. "And the chances of finding this Patrick?"

"They won't give him up. Not even to me."

Chapter Fifteen.

Casey pulled into her driveway, shaking her head as Mr. Gunter stood on a ladder, cleaning out his gutters. She stopped the truck and hurried out, easily jumping the short hedges that separated their yards.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she said as she grabbed the ladder.

"Haven't we had this talk already?"

"Oh, Casey, you worry too much. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're seventy-eight years old. You don't need to be climbing ladders." She looked up. "What the hell are you doing, anyway?"

He had a small spade in his hands and he held it out. "Supposed to rain tomorrow."

"And?"

"The gutters haven't been cleaned all summer."

"Oh, good grief. Come down now."

"I've just gotten started."

62.

*"I'll finish," Casey said. "Where's Ruth?"

"She was napping."

"And she'll kill you when I tell her what you were doing. Now come down." She held the ladder steady as he slowly descended, helping him down the last two steps.

"Ronnie, you've got to be careful. What's Ruth going to do if something happens to you?"

"I know." He pulled off his gloves and wadded them together. "It's just, sometimes, I want to do something."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry." She hugged him quickly. "I know."

He stared up at the gutter. "Seemed like a good idea."

"Come on. You want a beer?"

He smiled. "That would hit the spot."

"Well, come on over. Let me change into shorts and we'll kill a couple of beers before we tackle the gutters, okay?"

"You're too good to us, Casey."

Casey only smiled. He said those words to her every time she helped them with something around their house. Mowing the lawn, hauling bags of compost for their flower beds, fixing the leaky faucet in the bathroom, and putting their trash out on the curb for them every Tuesday and Friday morning. But it was all stuff she enjoyed doing for them. They had two kids and seven grandchildren, and in the six months Casey had lived there, she'd seen them visiting twice. The house was full of pictures, but she could see the sadness in their eyes when they spoke of their grandchildren.

Apparently, no one had time for visits anymore.

Later, after she and Ronnie had finished their beer, they tackled the gutters. Her reward was getting to share dinner with them. Ruth made chicken potpie and Casey, despite her protests, was sent home with the leftovers. It was a favorite meal and Ruth knew it.

Now, as she sat in the dark sipping her wine, the lights were already out next door. It had been a hot day and even now, nearly ten, the humidity was still high. Casey stretched her legs out, resting them along the railing of her deck, swatting at the occasional mosquito. She looked out over the dark water, seeing the twinkling of lights on the distant shore. Across the way was the country club and golf course. She smiled, wondering if Tori and Sam would really go through with it and buy a house there. She wouldn't mind it, really. It'd be better than them moving off somewhere, away from her.

She leaned her head back, watching the stars overhead, letting her mind drift. She wasn't surprised when thoughts of Leslie came to her. As far as partners went, she couldn't complain. They seemed to sense each other's questions, actions. There'd 63*been not even a hint of a problem between them. She liked her. She must. She'd told her practically her life story. And she enjoyed their conversations, even enjoyed the monotonous chore of staking out the apartments. And like Leslie said, it'd be nice if they became friends.

It'd be nicer if she was old and frumpy, though.

She smiled. "Or ugly and portly," she said out loud.

Chapter Sixteen.

"Okay, so they report four possible Peeping Toms...what is that?" Leslie asked. "I mean, we didn't even have one possible."

She and Casey walked along the sidewalk, the morning coolness already giving way to the afternoon heat. At the door to the lab, Casey paused, letting Leslie go first.

"Thank you, Detective O'Connor."

"My pleasure."

They passed the reception desk with a wave and Leslie noticed the quick smile Casey gave Sarah. And the lingering look Sarah gave Casey. She'd found that Casey was a flirt. A flirt in a subtle, gentle way, which for some reason, made it okay.

"Okay, so their Peeping Toms," she said again.

"Either they're making it into a contest, and okay, let's say they're cheating," Casey said with a smile. "Or we have different descriptions of what constitutes a Peeping Tom. I mean, if we want to report every male who walks in the common area as a potential, then we can. I just think it clutters up things."

"I agree. Maybe we need to clarify with them what we're both looking for."

Casey stopped at the door to Mac's office and knocked.

"Come on in."

She opened the door, then stepped aside to allow Leslie to enter first. Leslie brushed her arm as she walked past, giving her a smile. With anyone else, she may have thought it was a condescending act to constantly hold the door open for her. But not with Casey. She'd noticed Casey did it with nearly everyone, including Tori.

"Morning, ladies. Have a seat."

"Hey, Mac. You got something good?" Casey asked.

"I think so." He shoved a piece of paper across his desk. "Take a look."

64.

*Casey took it and held it up so Leslie could see too. It was a picture of two pieces of thread or yarn.

"Okay. And?"

"They are identical."

Casey tossed the paper back on his desk. "Wonderful. I'm so happy." She leaned forward. "What the hell does it mean?"

Mac tilted his head. "It's uncanny how much alike you and Hunter are sometimes."

"Please, we are nothing alike," Casey scoffed.

Mac flicked his glance to Leslie. "Right," he said dryly. "The fibers are identical. The first was found at the crime scene of Dana Burrow's."

"The second apartment victim?"

"Yes. Spencer found the fiber in the genital area. It matched nothing in her apartment.

We logged it as transfer."

"And the second?" Leslie asked.

"The second is from your homeless man. It's from the blanket he was covered with."

"So, theoretically, that could put our homeless man inside Dana Burrows apartment."

"Theoretically."

Leslie shook her head. "I can't see her opening her door to a stranger, especially someone off the street. I mean, people just don't do that. Especially young women who live alone. You just don't do that."

Casey nodded. "So? Transfer from the killer? That would mean our killer would have been in physical contact with our homeless guy before he killed Dana." She turned to Leslie with raised eyebrows. "Patrick?"

"Who's Patrick?" Mac asked.

"Someone named Patrick killed Rudy Bobby."

Mac frowned. "Who?"

"The homeless guy. Rudy Bobby."

"I didn't think we had a name for him."

"Don't know his legal name, no."