Free Safe at Home by Alison Gordon

His coach had to work hard to convince the parents that they should let him compete. They gave in on condition that he kept his straight A average at school. He was on the way back from the swim club when he disappeared.”
    “And then?”
    “They found him late the next night in an abandoned warehouse over by the Ex. Naked. Raped. The same stomach contents, the same semen type, but this one was raped before he died, and he was carved up a bit after he was smothered.”
    “Carved?”
    “You don’t want to know,” Andy said.
    “So the guy is getting more violent?”
    “And more confident, I think. The pattern is changing.”
    “This one is really getting to you.”
    He rubbed his eyes, then ran his hands through his hair.
    “I’ve got to get this guy, Kate, and soon.”
    “You’re tired. Let’s get to bed.”
    He took my hand and pulled me gently from the couch.
    “Let’s make something nice. I’ve had enough ugliness in the last couple of days.”
    So we did.

Chapter 12
    It was still dark when I woke up. I was alone in bed, but I could hear noises in the kitchen. I grabbed my robe and staggered towards the smell of coffee and the sound of the can opener. When I got there, Andy was feeding Elwy, out of self-defence.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Nothing,” he said. “I woke up and decided it was a good morning for a walk. Want to come?”
    “At six o’clock in the morning?”
    “I’m going to see if anything interesting flew in overnight.”
    I knew Andy was a bird watcher. I even went out with him one afternoon on a wintry prowl through some woods north of the city, looking for owls. Other than that, during the one winter we’d been together, bird watching had consisted of standing at the kitchen window and watching the sparrows and blue jays in my feeder. I suspect that I’ll learn all sorts of other strange things about him as spring progresses.
    I took a cup of coffee while I considered his proposition.
    “I’m leaving in ten minutes,” he said.
    What the hell. I went to put on some warm clothes. When I got back, Andy frowned at my sneakers.
    “You need better walking shoes than that,” he said.
    “They’re the best I’ve got,” I grumbled, deciding the outing was a bad idea after all. I poured another cup of coffee for the road. Andy drove.
    As we headed down Pottery Road towards the Bayview extension, I was glad I’d come. In the early light the willows along the road were golden with buds. There was very little traffic.
    “I haven’t seen the dawn for years,” I said. “At least not from this end.”
    “If you’re going to become a birder, you’ll get used to it,” Andy said, then reached across and squeezed my hand. I hoped he couldn’t see the horror in my face. I took another swallow of coffee.
    We parked the car, then headed down the path, which was slippery with mud from overnight rain. It was cold, despite the sun peeking through the haze. I looked around at the bare trees.
    “No birds. Can we go home now?”
    “Well, I certainly hear the call of the female grouse,” Andy said, taking my hand and leading me further down the path. After another few yards he stopped and scanned the trees with his binoculars.
    “Wasn’t one of the bodies found in here?” I asked, shivering.
    “A little further in, near the bridge. Look, up in that maple. It’s a ruby-crowned kinglet.”
    “Where?” I peered through my binoculars. There were four leafless trees in the general vicinity of where he was pointing. Who knew which one was the maple?
    “In the second tree, see the crotch where the branch heads off at about two o’clock? It’s just about halfway along, on the small branch above. Sort of flipping around.”
    Just as I got the little bugger in my sights, it flew away.
    “Nice,” I said.
    “Did you get it?”
    “It had wings,” I said.
    “You just need practice,” he said. “You’ll get better at spotting them. Come on. I’ll see if I can find you another