Dream Catcher

Chapter 14

She was wearing an engagement ring. Jax felt a slight moment of sadness for her intended. Notifying him of her death wasn't something he looked forward to. Blood dripped from her still fingers and seeped into the thin ropes that held her wrists to the bedpost.

Jax fingered the necklace he usually wore hidden under the white tank beneath his dress shirt. Held by a thin gold chain, was a woman's engagement ring.

"What took you so long?" Detective Roberto Montoya asked, a pen and pad in his hands.

Quickly hiding the ring, Jax shook his head, "Don't ask."

"Got held up by a woman?" Roberto's mouth curled up in a sly grin. "Always a new lady with you, huh?"

"You jealous?"

"Hell no. I have a wife whom I love. You should stop playing the field so much or you'll end up being all alone."

"You think I don't know that?" his tone was fiercer than he intended. "I'm sorry partner. I didn't mean to blow up like that."

"Forget it. Just look at the newest victim, June Danvers, courtesy of our Maestro," Roberto nodded to the crime scene and walked away.

Jax cursed under his breath before walking back towards the victim's body. Her red hair was fanned out on the pillow as if she were on display. Classical music played in the background and Jax shouted for another officer to shut the stereo off. He walked around the bed and wondered why any woman would willingly go home with a stranger when there was a serial killer on the loose.

He thought of Dani Deleon's declaration.

"That music killer or Maestro or whatever you call him. I've seen his dreams too."

Was she lying? Or did she really have the ability to see dreams? More importantly, did she really see the Maestro's dreams? He rubbed his chest with his hand, feeling the ring under his clothes. Jax closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If they didn't catch the Maestro anytime soon, more innocent women would die.

He looked back at his partner and frowned. Roberto was right. In the past few years, he'd earned a reputation for being a ladies' man. Rumors of him having different women every week and flirting with anything that had two legs ran rampant throughout the station. Still, he didn't like being reminded of it. He opened his leather wallet and stared at the picture of the blonde woman kissing his cheek.

Vivian.

He felt an ache deep in his chest as he closed his wallet and looked around at the forensics team taking pictures of the Maestro's newest victim. Another innocent woman was killed by a ruthless monster of a man.

"I can't let this keep happening," Jax whispered.

He looked at the time on his Rolex and spoke with some of the officers at the scene before telling Roberto he was heading back to the station. On his way, he found himself driving down a secluded path towards the local cemetery. He pulled his Escalade over and pressed the button for his window to slide down.

"I can't face you just yet but in time I will. I'm sorry Viv. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to set, the man known as the Maestro was listening to Beethoven in his car. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm to the music as he pictured the red haired vixen he had met recently.

The memory of her drunken giggling filled his head as he had tied her to the bed. Free liquor had made her an easy target. After taking her back to her place, it took but moments to ask her for what he craved the most.

He replayed his last words to her, "Your heart's not pure. If it was I could stop. You brought this upon yourself...you understand that, right?"

Her screams finally annoyed him and he was forced to gag her. All he wanted was a woman's heart. Someone to care for him. Someone to love him. Was a pure heart so difficult to uncover? He was in his vehicle as he pulled over to the tacky diner that honored Elvis. He licked his lips as he glanced around, the smell of pancakes surrounding him. He took a seat at the diner's main counter.

"Coffee?"

He looked up at the young brunette. She was wearing her fingerless gloves today. She had stopped wearing them for a few days and he found that he missed them. She was definitely special.

"Please," he said as he lifted his coffee mug. She didn't really look at him, her thoughts clearly somewhere else, as she poured the bitter liquid.

It wasn't the first time she had poured him coffee.

"Dani," he said, feeling her name vibrate against his tongue.

"Yes?" she asked, distracted. "Did you need something else?"

"Your heart," he wanted to say. "I want your heart."

Instead he shook his head and lifted his coffee cup as though it were enough for him. As she walked away, he watched her hips sway in an easy rhythm to the diner's music.

He leaned forward and smiled. He wanted her. More than anyone else he'd ever come across. It was a desire he felt from the tips of his toes to the split ends in his hair. Deep in his soul he knew that somehow, someway, he'd have her....and it wouldn't matter if she was dead or alive for it to happen.