Sarah stuffed the bottom of her starched white shirt into the waist of her black pencil skirt as she wrestled her feet into her favorite red heels. She stopped for a split second to run her fingers through her messy, dark hair. Running late for work again. Restless nights and long work days would take it out of a person. Fighting a yawn, she snatched keys from the kitchen counter as she shoved into the brisk morning air. She'd grab some coffee at the office.
After a mad dash through traffic, her car rolled into the expansive, grey parking garage. She squeezed her SUV in one of the last spaces closest to the elevators, and darted through the doors. Her hand slapped the button marked "5" mechanically as she glanced at her phone. Not yet late.
Slumping against the wall, she released a heavy sigh. She couldn't afford to be late again. Her boss was already breathing down her neck. He had taken a chance when he had promoted her to the intelligence unit. She wanted to prove her worth. But she had gotten no where on the case. There was next to nothing in the file, aside from a few gruesome photos. Messy crime scenes. No bodies. No suspects. It had been apparent that they were connected. The same chains were found in each abandoned warehouse, with enough blood to indicate that someone didn't make it out alive. Aside from that, nothing.
Lack of sleep didn't help matters. When sleep would finally win, her mind would slip into such vivid dreams that she hardly felt rested. The man from the alleyway. Even now, he haunted her. Stealing quietly into her thoughts. His hands. His mouth. His...
"Ahem." The voice of her boss launched her back to the present. His chubby face wrinkled in admonition as his foot caught the elevator doors from sliding to a close. She could read the disgust in his smug face. Her face bloomed scarlet as she rushed into the cubicle filled room.
"Sorry, sorry. I was up late again. Working on the case." She dropped her purse on her desk and flopped into the chair. "I promise it won't happen again, Mr. Randall."
"I know it won't, Sarah. That's why I'm changing your objective. I want you to stake out this building tonight." He slid a glossy photo toward her. An old industrial building, crumbling and vacant. "Out in the North Hills. A tip came in this morning. Might be where our guy is hiding. Check it out. I'm sure you won't disappoint."
She stared at the photo with dread. She'd had her share of night watches, but alone? With the little sleep she'd gotten, she wondered how she'd make it through the day. She doubted she'd make it through the night.
The work day ticked on uneventfully, and she powered through with cups of stale coffee and tedious paperwork. Aside from the investigation, she had the added duty of entering case files into the national criminal database. She thrived on the tedious work. At least she had something accomplished at the end of the day.
The clock struck seven. Well past the administrative hours. Everyone was gone, and the lights were dim. She took the darkness as a herald to leave. Time for her evening directive.
She fumbled with her keys and made her way to the elevator. For once, her absent-mindedness was a blessing. She'd left her camera bag and binoculars in the car, so she could drive directly to the warehouse. The only thing for her to do was watch, and wait. And, if her current investigation was any indication, a long night of nothing.
The building was easy to find. Tucked along the river's edge, the red-brick monstrosity loomed vacantly between the dilapidated row houses. She steered her car down the old cobblestone lane and tucked her car inconspicuously in the side street that ran toward the building's front.
Slumping in her seat, she tucked her binoculars around her and stared absently out at the warehouse. The rusted sagging doors were the only entrance to the building. If someone came in or out, she'd see them. It was just a waiting game, now.
Her sight grew dim as the night wore on. Sleep threatened to take her. Of course. Now, of all times, sleep steals in. Her chin drooped into her chest as her breathing became shallow. Sandman tiptoed quietly in, weighing her lids to a close.
The vibration of her phone jarred her awake. A text message. She fumbled in her pocket and strained to focus on the bright screen. She didn't recognize the number.
Unknown: "Not a good place to nap."
Sarah: "Who is this?" She jerked herself upright in her seat as she typed her reply. Was this somebody playing a joke on her? Her team knew she was here. Maybe a rookie prank.
U: "You really should be more careful. Not getting enough sleep lately?"
Her heart pounded in her ears. If word got around that she'd been napping on her night watch, she'd never hear the end of it.
S: "Seriously, who is this? Is this Steve? Rebecca? Whatever. Working. Stop distracting me."
U: "Only fair. You're quite the distraction."
Her cheeks flushed. An office crush? But who? She looked at the text again. No. Too formal. She shifted uncomfortably, stretching her feet across the passenger seat. The screen illuminated, signalling another message.
U: "Wearing those heels again, I see. What became of that dress?"
Panic. Him. Was he near? Could he see her? She glanced quickly around her, searching for a new car, an unnoticed arrival. Instinctively, she grabbed the walkie from the dash. Her finger hesitated on the "panic" button as another message pinged.
U: "Now, now. Things are just getting interesting. Let's play, just you and me, shall we?"
Her hand went limp, and the walkie swung loose on its curled cord. He was watching her.
S: "What do you want?"
U: "Be a good girl, and say you'll play."
The phone trembled in her hand as her breath quickened. Fear ripped through her. Her throat constricted as her thumbs pressed a reply.
S: "Where are you?"
The phone shook again. A call was coming in. Unknown.
"Hello? Who is this?" Her voice shook with tension. She knew the answer.
"That's not the right answer." His voice was deep and resonant. Recognition slapped her, stamping any doubt. "Do you want to play?"
