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Ten minutes after midnight, and still I can't sleep. Dan thinks to himself. No matter how many years he's been a detective, he never gets used to viewing a dead body. It's harder when it's a woman. Somebody's Mother, Sister, Wife? Why, what is there about some people that creates in them a need to kill? It's always a need, never just a desire. For some people the need to be God, and decide who lives or who dies, and how they die overwhelms their ability to know it's wrong. No living person should feel that they have the right to end the life of another. Yet it happens. All too often. They appear to be perfectly normal on the outside and yet inside what exists? By what mental process do they decide who lives or dies? Who are these people? Is it an accident of birth, or some grander design? There are no easy answers in life. I need....what do I need, he thinks. What am I missing here besides the body of the victim? What clue do I have that I am overlooking? Thankfully the Jane Doe is not his responsibility. He has a crime, with no body, and the Sheriff has a body with no report of a missing person or any clue as to who this person is, or more exactly...was. As he finally begins to drift off to sleep his phone rings.

Det. Hallam: "Yeah, Dan Hallam here"

Caller: "Dan, this is Sgt Pike. We have a report of a warehouse break in on Seventh St, near the tracks. Car 12 is on the scene and asking for back up from Homicide, they found a body inside. Female, mid to late 30's, she fits the description of your missing person Annie Belmont.

Det. Hallam: "What's the address on Seventh?"

Caller: " 3153 Seventh St. The body was found on the second floor. Patrolman Graveline has secured the scene, and Forensics have been notified."

Det. Hallam: "I'm on my way"

Dan took a few minutes to get dressed and headed out the door. He hoped traffic at this time of night wasn't that bad, because Seventh St. was across town and he felt the need to get there. It feels right to him, this has to be her. Something was pumping him in a way that the news of the Sheriffs find didn't. A sense of exhilaration, heightened awareness. He could feel his blood flowing through his veins, his heart beating like a metronome. Deep easy breath, in and out. He was even sweating slightly and the night wasn't that warm. All good signs as far as he was concerned. The hunter, with his prey visible in the cross hairs of the gunsight Breathe slowly..... squeeze the trigger... don't jerk it. Slow steady pull of the finger on the trigger and... bam!....the prey drops to the ground. So much adrenaline, causing the hunter to shake, then that deep relaxed feeling of a job well done. Oh yeah, this is Annie, I can feel it in my bones.

He turns onto Seventh and halfway up the block sees the squad car and the Forensic van parked. He pulls up behind the squad car and takes a quick look at the building. Doesn't look used for anything any more. Windows alternately boarded up or broken. Crumbling brick, worn away by decades of rain. What windows were still intact looked like dark eyes staring out into the night, enhanced by the glint of street lights. All together an unwelcoming view. Train tracks and other buildings of the same kind and very little more. A place where junkies with no homes go to die from drug overdoses. A place where old worn out prostitutes ply their trade and runaways looking for a place to hide out of the weather take up residence. Smells of the dead and dying permeate the air.

A patrolman approaches the car, "I'm sorry sir, you can't park there, Police business, you'll have to move on." he says. Dan smiles, "Patrolman Graveline? I'm Det. Dan Hallam, Bayview Homicide Div.." he responds. "I believe you found a body?"