Free Little Girls Lost by Jonah Paine

others picked it up, feeding off each others' energy. "Yeah, I heard that, too! She fucked him to turn a C into a B. He would have given her an A, but she wouldn't take it up the ass!"
    They all laughed at that, all except Joey who knew there was no point in arguing with them. He'd done his part to defend her name, but now he had to make sure he didn't lose any standing among his friends.
    "Yeah, well, she's saving that ass for me," he said with a smirk.
    "Bullshit!" Devin hooted. "You are so full of shit! You've never been within ten miles of that ass!"
    "Yeah, well, that may be so" Joey said with a confident smile. "But if she don't give it up to me soon, maybe I'll just take it."

C HAPTER N INETEEN

    Sam eased his weight down into the cushions of the leather couch and tried not to feel nervous.
    Doctors offices had always made him uncomfortable, and his mind drew no distinctions between types of doctors. Whether they were medical doctors, dentists, psychiatrists, or even massage therapists, they all made parts of his body clench in anticipation of pain and ice-cold instruments inserted in places that Sam would rather they not go.
    "Thank you for seeing me, doctor," he said to the middle-aged man who was looking at him with an expression that combined curiosity with something that looked like amusement. "You come highly recommended."
    "Please, call me Warren," the doctor replied in a phrase Sam imagined he repeated to each of the patients who came through his doors. Warren Sundquist was, Sam had learned, a big name within a small field. Sam had heard from no fewer than three enthralled colleagues that Dr. Sundquist had "written the book" on sexual sadists. He couldn't decide whether he should be surprised that a man who worked with patients who were capable of such violence was himself quiet, mild, and so carefully controlled in his words and gestures.
    "I'm hoping you can help me with a case. It's not going the way I anticipated."
    The doctor gave him a slow smile. "That must be upsetting," he murmured.
    "Excuse me?"
    "You're a police officer. I'm sorry, you're a detective. Your professional skills are no doubt of the highest order, and your intuition has been honed through years of experience. Your anticipation, Detective, is what puts criminals behind bars. If your intuition is leading you astray, would that not be upsetting?"
    Sam shrugged. He was feeling like a bug under glass. "I don't know that I'd go that far. I'm not upset so much as I'm uncertain."
    The doctor folded his hands in his laps and crossed his legs. He inclined his head. "Please elaborate."
    Sam considered, wondering how much it was safe to disclose to this man. Sam was not a man who surrendered information easily. He wasn't secretive by nature, but he never liked tipping his hand until he was sure how the game would play out. In this game, though, he was almost out of options. He decided to trust the expert.
    "We have two murders. We're not certain that they're connected, but I'm pretty sure."
    "And what makes you so certain?"
    "I'm not sure. It just feels like they're part of something bigger."
    Doctor Sundquist smiled. "Your intuition tells you so. Of course. Please continue."
    "We had a suspect. The first body to be recovered bore wounds and mutilation that matched the pattern of what a convicted murderer had inflicted on his victims. When I looked into the case, it turned out that man had recently been paroled."
    "It sounds like an open and shut case."
    Sam grimaced. "It was, but then we recovered the second body. This time the victim had been mutilated in a very different way. Again, the mutilations matched those inflicted on other women, by a man who is now back on the streets."
    The doctor offered him a half smile. "That's an interesting coincidence. So now you have two killers."
    Sam shook his head. "It's the same guy."
    "How can you be so sure?"
    Sam paused, gathering his thoughts. In his deepest heart he knew that he wasn't sure, not