It wasn't safe. He could feel sweat dripping down his back as he held his breath. His left hand tightened around the hard stones hidden in the pocket of his hooded sweater.

"Where are you, cabrón? Come out now and I'll take it easy on you," a thick-accented voice called out into the darkness. "You seriously gonna punk me like that? I brought you into the family. Made you one of us. I gave you everything you needed and this is how you repay me? You know we'll find you, so save us both some time and come out!"

He pursed his lips and waited, the brick wall digging into his back as he tried to stay hidden in the alley behind an abandoned pawn shop. He needed to escape. His eyes veered to the right, catching his reflection in a broken mirror that had been discarded near a large dumpster. The tattoos emblazoned on his bare head belied the terror that filled him. He glanced at the solitary wolf painted on his right hand. Originally, it was supposed to be a symbol of strength. Tonight its golden eyes mocked him.

"Was it worth it?" a female voice asked him.

He looked to his left to see a woman in her late twenties staring at his pockets. The bricks continued to dig through his sweater, scraping his back as he edged away from her. He almost lost his grip on the gun he held in his right hand.

"Y-you're supposed to be dead!"

"Was it worth it?" she asked again.

"I-I killed you! What are you doing here? Go away! Leave me alone!"

"Those diamonds you stole are now cursed by your greed. They were supposed to go to my daughter. You'll never get away with it. Never."

She was coming closer, a floating angel angered by the injustice of her own death.

"Go away! You're not real!" he shouted before closing his eyes and lowering his head.

A heavy hand on his shoulder caused him to jump forward.

"Gotcha," a low voice chuckled.

He felt the barrel of a gun pressing into the back of his skull as the familiar male voice continued, "You think you can take a slice for yourself and not share with the rest of the crew? Think again, cabrón. Now drop your piece."

His right hand opened, releasing the weapon. "I left the necklace behind. I don't have it anymore."

"You think I'm gonna fall for that? You don't have the balls, cabrón. You think one murder makes you strong? Makes you a man? Think again. Now turn around and take your punishment."

He didn't want to turn around but the choice was no longer his. The Grim Reaper was behind him in the form of a tall thug dressed in khakis with a wolf tattoo painted on his arm.

"If you don't turn around and open your eyes, I'll make it real painful. Got it?"

Without thinking, he turned around and began pleading, "I can give you the diamond necklace. Just don't kill me. My mom needs me."

"Too late," the man responded before lifting his gun and pulling the trigger.

Dani Deleon woke up, gasping for air. She was soaked in her own sweat, as were her sheets. She didn't have to look at the alarm clock on her nightstand to know it was 3:15 AM. She cursed under her breath as she plopped down onto her lumpy mattress, the damp sheets chilling her back. She could hear the steady hum of her apartment's air conditioner kick in as her vision settled into the darkness. Dani lifted a hand and softly passed it through the row of dream catchers that hung above her. Despite their number, the superstitious ornaments were failing to do their job.

She gave a resigned sigh as she struggled to get out of bed, pulling her sheets along with her. She padded across the threadbare carpet to her bathroom. After showering, she opened the small medicine cabinet above her sink. Her hand hovered over numerous sleeping pill bottles until she spotted an almost-empty tube of under-eye concealer.

"You're no miracle worker but you'll have to do."

She closed the mirrored cabinet and looked at her reflection, frowning at the dark shadows beneath her brown eyes which were a direct result of her sleepless nights. She lifted the tube of concealer to her face before whispering, "C'mon, Dani. You can do this. Time to fake being normal."

-------------------------

Across town, Detective Jax Michaels was trying his best to cover a yawn. The overpowering odor of bleach filled his nostrils, causing him to cough.

"What? You think this dead body is boring?"

Jax looked up to see his partner, Detective Roberto Montoya, grinning at him.

Around them, forensics was taking photographs of the high-priced apartment and its unfortunate tenant. A few onlookers were out in the hall, trying their best to peer in while two officers attempted to keep them at bay.

"A dead body this early in the morning is never boring. Is something funny? Why are you always smiling?" Jax asked, before yawning again.

"Happy people smile. Didn't you know that? You should try it sometime."

"Try what? Being happy? Or smiling?"

"Both. What's the matter with you, Michaels?" Roberto asked. "You've been yawning all night. Did the Sandman sprinkle some of his magic dust on you while I wasn't looking? Or were you out late with another one of your lady friends last night?"

Jax shook his head. "Not even close. Unlike certain people I know, some of us have been working forty-eight hours straight. I don't know what's going on but the murder rate in Roane seems to be increasing by the second. Meanwhile, I probably have coffee running through my system instead of blood." He looked at the blood-soaked carpet and shook his head. "Speaking of blood, I hope the landlord got a good deposit because that's not coming out."

Roberto grinned, causing the laugh lines around his hazel eyes to deepen. "Sorry, but I told you it was my anniversary. You know Gladys would have killed me if I skipped it. That's what happens when you marry the love of your life."

"Okay, let's stop before you start. I've heard your love story over million times already. No need to tell me again how you and your high school sweetheart are still together."

"I thought she'd want a big celebration since it was our twentieth anniversary but she just wanted to have a steamy night with me," Roberto said. "I guess you could say I was her gift last night. Isn't that romantic?"

They stepped aside to let another officer take a few more photographs of the victim.

"Well, there was nothing romantic about what I saw last night. A woman was murdered for a diamond necklace. Thieves should just get a job and work instead of stealing. It's bad enough that we're dealing with the Maestro but we've also got our hands full with these gang murders."

Roberto chuckled. "That's my partner. Always simplifying things. Just don't steal. Just don't kill. If only life were that easy. So, what do you think?"

He was referring to the bloody victim that was tied to a chair. Her heart had been removed from her body and the music of Beethoven had long since been turned off.

"I don't think anything," Jax answered. "I know. This was the work of the Maestro. When will victims learn to heed police warnings? You think this woman would've known better than to take some random man home with her when there's a killer on the loose. Does no one watch the news these days? Or pick up a newspaper? I'm sure it's online as well."

"What makes you think he was a random man? Maybe she knew him," Roberto said.

"A random man that unknowingly happened to copy the Maestro's MO by removing her heart? You know we've purposely left out that fact from the media." Jax shook his head. "No, this is his work and if she's anything like the rest, there won't be a connection. There never is."

"Do we at least have a name yet?" Roberto asked.

"Loretta Palmers. Twenty-seven. Parents live upstate. She was a loan officer at Common Trust. Also, part of some local orchestra that explains the Steinway. According to forensics, there were no fingerprints to be found. He did a pretty good job cleaning up after himself right down to the ivory keys. Definitely the work of the Maestro."

"This is a pretty swanky neighborhood. Don't they have cameras?"

"Not swanky enough. The cameras stopped working a week ago and the doorman was out sick yesterday. The landlord claims they didn't see the urgency in getting the cameras fixed since they've never had any criminal activity in the past."

"Can't say that anymore," Roberto muttered. "The neighbors didn't hear anything?"

"They did but she listened to classical music all the time so they didn't think anything of it. According to them, they put in earplugs whenever she played the piano. It was her mother that called it in. She hadn't been able to get in touch with her. When the officer came to do a welfare check, one of the neighbors happened to see him. Mentioned the classical music the night before."

"You think he scouted her before he killed her?"

Jax shrugged. "It's possible but the other victims weren't music-lovers."

"The cameras, the doorman, and the piano. It all seems too perfect to be a coincidence."

"Hopefully we can get a lead off of this one. As of right now, we've got no witnesses or DNA. We have nothing to go on except some lame music that makes me even sleepier than I already am just thinking about it." Jax started to yawn yet again.

"I'll have you know that a ton of people like Beethoven," Roberto said.

"Name two."

"I didn't say I knew them personally." Roberto smiled. "I just said they exist."

Jax looked away, covering his mouth.

"Will you stop yawning? You know it's contagious. You yawn and then I yawn and I don't like it."

"Well then don't look at me," Jax said. "I know my good looks are hard to look away from, but if it's that hard for you—"

"I can't help it. I'm a compassionate person. Me yawning after you means I'm empathetic."

"What was that? It means you're pathetic?" Jax smirked.

"Not nice, partner. Stop acting like a kid. This is probably why you don't have a steady girlfriend. That and your ego. I said empathetic as in someone who is compassionate...and caring."

"Roberto, spare me the thesaurus talk. I'm too tired to hear it."

"Fine. We'll get some coffee after we're done here. I know the perfect place." Roberto pushed his partner away from the body. "Make sure the guys outside take pictures of the crowd downstairs. You think those rubberneckers would be asleep but they see some police cars and they gather around like it's a free show. I bet they're just waiting for the body to be wheeled out. Tell them if I see one photo on Facebook, there will be hell to pay."

Jax nodded. "Will do, partner. Will do."

Almost two hours later, Jax and Roberto were pulling up to King's Diner. Jax groaned when he saw the green establishment with pink neon lights advertising their twenty-four-hour service. In front of the diner was a picture of Elvis or at least a man that was supposed to look like Elvis.

"This place looks like it could give you E-coli, Salmonella, and Tetanus all in one go," Jax griped.

"C'mon it's not that bad. Besides, they have delicious pancakes," Roberto said. He opened his car door, not giving Jax a choice but to follow him. "Who knows? You may like it so much, that you take your next girlfriend here for a date."

Jax harrumphed as they entered and sat down in one of the pink pleather booths lined up against the wall. The scent of syrup and gravy wafted around them and he could hear a few truck drivers comparing driving routes in the back corner of the diner.

"I know...I know. You don't have girlfriends but you sure do sleep with—"

"Roberto—"

"I meant date. You sure do date a lot of women. If I didn't have Gladys, I might be jealous."

Jax laughed. "Don't lie, Montoya. You are jealous."

"You wish."

"I can't help it if women are drawn to my good looks, my winning personality, and my alluring sexiness." Jax winked.

"Please stop. I don't want to throw up before I even order my breakfast," Roberto joked. He cleared his throat before saying, "In all seriousness...you should think about settling down. It's been a long time since Vivi—"

Roberto noticed his partner's blue eyes darken. He picked up a laminated menu and started to peruse its contents.

"So do you have any leads on the downtown murder? Although a diamond necklace is an obvious motive to kill a person," Roberto said.

Jax picked up a menu as well and gave a quick nod. "I'm thinking it's Los Lobos Locos."

"These gangs are getting out of hand. What makes you think it's them behind the murder? You think they're selling it for some quick cash or maybe a member wanted to give his girlfriend a pretty gift?"

"They've been spreading out more and more downtown. They dragged her into an alley and shot her. All of her money, credit cards, and jewelry were taken. The diamond necklace she was wearing was worth a small fortune."

Roberto shook his head in disgust. "Poor woman. I wonder why she was wearing such a pricey piece in such a dangerous part of town."

"There's a new bar downtown called Wine Time that a lot of singles are hitting up. It's a fancy wine bar with a dress code. Her hand was stamped with the stamp they use on customers when they enter, so I think she was there last."

"A shame." Roberto frowned. "The murder, not the wine bar. Is it nice? Maybe Gladys might want to go. She loves a good glass of wine."

"Married to you, I don't blame her," Jax laughed.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Can I get you two something to drink?"

Jax looked up to see a petite brunette smiling at them. She was standing a foot away from the table as though she didn't want to get too close to them. Her hands were encased in knit-gloves that had the fingers cut off. It was strange to see since it wasn't cold out. Her fingertips were stained with what looked like charcoal. She was wearing make-up but not enough since he could still see the dark shadows she tried hiding under her brown eyes. He wondered if she was in the middle of working a double-shift like he was. Roberto ordered two coffees.

"Two coffees it is. When you're ready to order, give me a holler. I'll be your waitress this morning," the brunette said.

"I'm sorry, what was your name?" Roberto asked, looking at her name tag.

"Dani. My name is Dani."