When Evil Comes Home

by LM and Barb

 

*Disclaimer: Hunter, McCall and characters created by SJC productions don’t belong to us, but since they’re not giving them any new adventures, we’re going to borrow them.

Summary: Thirty years ago someone kidnapped and murdered several little girls. The killer may be back. Has one of his victims returned as well? Will the horrible visions in McCall's nightmares aid in solving a crime? [Rated: T]

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When Evil Comes Home

By LM and Barb

Rating: PG – 13

Disclaimer: Hunter, McCall and characters created by SJC productions don’t belong to us, but since they’re not giving them any new adventures, we’re going to borrow them.

Summary: Thirty years ago someone kidnapped and murdered several little girls. The killer may be back. Has one of his victims returned as well? Will the horrible visions in McCall's nightmares aid in solving a crime?

DeeDee McCall groaned loudly and threw back the covers in frustration. She couldn’t believe it had happened again: that for the fourth time in a week, she’d had the same horrific dream. Each time it was more vivid and felt more real. A glance at the clock by her head confirmed that, again, she had awakened at 4:20 in the morning, her body bathed in perspiration, her heart pounding in her chest and her pillow wet with tears.

For several long minutes, she lay there, struggling with the disorientation from awakening suddenly and fighting the terror invoked by the recurrent nightmare.

Knowing that just like the previous three times, she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, she pulled herself up in bed, and switched on the bedside lamp.

Hesitating for a moment because she hated giving credence to a dream, she decided to try and analyze it into submission. Ignoring it sure hadn’t done anything to solve the problem.

She reached for the pen and notebook that she kept next to the phone and began writing down everything she could remember. She tried to write quickly without conscious thought; not trying for a narrative, but just what she saw.

Night Full Moon Fog Gothic-style mansion

A tall man, dressed all in black, wearing black leather gloves

A young girl, about 10

As she wrote, she remembered details. The only sound was the young girl’s cries. “Help me!”

She closed her eyes and tried to picture the setting. She realized that everything was in shades of black, white and gray.

(Wait. Not everything.) She thought. The young girl had red hair.

Then, the man’s face flashed in front of her. Only the face was visible, as he seemed to have a black hood on. The face wasn’t really a face at all. Almost like a mask – it was deathly white and the eyes glowed a bright red. McCall gasped as face jumped in closer before her eyes.

(You can’t stop me) a low voice intoned, seemingly from nowhere.

With a startled cry, she opened her eyes and frantically looked around. She was alone.

“But I heard him,” she whispered fearfully, trying to catch her breath. “I heard him.”

She grabbed her gun and jumped quickly out of bed to search her house. Feeling a little foolish, she knew she had to check, if only to give herself some peace of mind. She hated it - hated not feeling safe in her own home. Finally, satisfied she was alone, she tried again to figure out what was going on.

It was a masked man in her dream. She heard his voice, but never saw his lips move. Only the glowing red eyes, like a wolf. She took a cleansing breath and forced herself to recall the rest of her dream. It always ended the same way. The masked man, chasing the young girl endlessly through the huge deserted mansion and DeeDee running after them until the man disappeared. McCall would think the girl was safe and would go to her but each time the masked man would jump out at her and she would wake up.

The young girl compelled her. The terror in her cries, her pleas for help. Who was she? What did it all mean? McCall went back to bed and wondered how she could track down who the girl was and help her.

In the dream she sometimes felt that the little girl had made it to a safe place, but usually she was very afraid for the girl’s safety, as well as her own. She could always feel the frustration of not finding the child, anger of being defeated by the masked man and feeling that she’d let the young girl down by not coming to her rescue. She had horrible thoughts of what might happen to the child because she couldn’t help her. As she tried to gather pieces of the dream, she could remember that just before waking up, all of those feelings; along with abandonment, fused together, causing her to feel a tremendous sadness in that mansion. While her sadness was part of the nightmare, the tears which developed from it were most definitely a reality on her pillow.

She thought of the little red haired girl over and over, wondering if she was someone she knew or knew of. She would make it a point to search the archives at work for any cases she’d worked on that might have clues similar to her nightmare.

It was bad enough that one of the cases she and Hunter were currently working on was tracking down a scum ball of a guy known as Bernie D. He was suspected in the death of two young girls that had been seen in a porn film and they were currently pooling their efforts with Sergeants Andrews and Weston from Vice in tracking him down. She couldn’t help but wonder if the atrocities Bernie was accused of and the crime scene photos were coming home with her and escaping through nightmares.

She’d had enough of getting nowhere fast on this mystery. It was time to start solving it. But before she got started, she wanted to try for a couple of hours of sleep. She turned off the light and hoped the remaining few hours of darkness would include a peaceful sleep.

“So, it was another rough night, huh?” Hunter noted that his partner was tired.

“Yeah, it was. I just wish I could figure out what it all means. It’s driving me crazy and I can’t do a thing about it.”

“Yes, you can. You can stop replaying it over and over in your mind; torturing yourself. Maybe if you stop trying to study it, it’ll become clearer when you don’t expect it. Try not to make such a big deal over the dream, and maybe you can get some sleep.”

“Nightmare, Hunter. It’s a nightmare. Honestly, can’t you tell the difference by now? I mean, I’ve only been telling you about this horror fest everyday for the past four days. “She sighed heavily and looked at him with annoyance for giving her more of a scolding, than understanding. “ If you could just experience what I do, you’d see it’s a big deal. The eerie pale face…those glowing eyes…hear the little girl’s scream for help….it’s just so…so real. You just don’t understand what I’m going though. There’s so much more to it, than just what I experience when I’m sleeping. It’s more than just a nightmare. I know it is.”

Telling Hunter about her nightmare was something she had thought would help her feel better, but apparently she’d thought wrong. After Rick’s lack of support, she definitely didn’t want to tell him that she heard this mystery man speak to her and that she searched her house in case in was inside. Maybe she was hallucinating from being so tired, but it was all so unsettling. She let out a sigh of slight disappointment in him and weariness within herself.

Hunter realized that he’d unintentionally turned into Mr. Insensitive, and needed to make amends for his behavior. “Listen, McCall. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You know I’d never do that on purpose. I just hadn’t realized how intense it really is. Whenever you feel like talking about the dre... (He caught himself) …the nightmare, you just feel free to do so at any time, and I’ll help you in any way I can.”

McCall’s face had softened from the earlier look of despair. “Thanks. And, I’m sorry if I snapped at you, but I’m just really stressed about this thing. It’s just like trying to solve any other case and I keep running into a dead end. But what’s worse, it seems like all the answers are right where I can get them, but I can’t. It’s weird.”

“I know. We’ll get it figured out. Try not to worry, okay?” His trusting smile relieved her of any doubts for the moment.

“Okay, I’ll try.” She managed a little smile. “Now, I guess we should get started on these files, if we intend to solve any of these cases.”

“Before we get started, how about some coffee?”

“Well, since I’m sleep deprived, caffeine would keep me alert, but would also add to the jitters. Decaf wouldn’t make me jumpy, but….” After a debate with herself on which coffee would be best, she decided to pass on it and asked Rick to get her a bottle of orange juice from the machine.

After a three and half hours of papers and file folders, Hunter and McCall were finally freed from their desk, when they got a phone call from Sporty James with news of where one of their suspects was last seen. After arriving at the house at the end of the street, they found it just as Sporty had said. Old, abandoned and dilapidated, but still well enough to shelter a man in hiding. As Rick got out of the car, he noticed that his partner hadn’t made a move yet. As he walked around the front of the car, he saw that his partner stared at the house, perhaps lost in thought. He took a look around and thought about the house she had seen in her dreams.

The old two-story house had a lot broken windows, the paint was so badly faded that you couldn’t tell what color it used to be, and the boards on the porch were warped from weather and neglect. He walked back to the edge of the curb and bent down to Dee Dee’s window.

“DeeDee, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She opened the door. Hunter took her hand as she stepped out. As they approached the crumbled walkway, she glanced around at a soon to be bare tree, with its darkening and falling leaves. A gusty fall wind assisted the stray leaves across the yard, as the same wind spun a remaining piece of glass in a first floor window as it hung by a thread.

“Hey, does this place bring up thoughts of that old mansion in your dream…um…nightmare?”

“It does a little, I guess. I mean, it’s old, rundown, and a little spooky, but it’s not exactly like the mansion.” She turned to him with an apology to follow. “I’m sorry that I put you in the position where you feel you have to tiptoe around me. I know you care and I shouldn’t quibble about calling it a dream or a nightmare. Just between us, I can’t believe that I’m letting it get to me like this.

“It’s okay, and I understand.” With a smile that said all was good between them, he followed her to the front door.

McCall took a deep cleansing breath and tried to clear her mind. (Just focus on finding their suspect,) she told herself.

She stepped gingerly on the rickety porch steps to the massive double doors and took a moment to look around. It looked like most of the windows were either broken or boarded up. “Well, I don’t know about you, but personally I think this is the perfect place for someone like Bernie.”

Hunter grinned, relieved to see his partner try to lighten up in the shadow of the foreboding ruin towering above them. “Oh, absolutely. Every child pornographer should have a place like this.”

Pushing past her sense of unease, McCall reached out to the enormous brass door knocker. (Gargoyle,) she thought sarcastically, (how appropriate.)

“He ain’t home.”

McCall gasped and whirled around to find Sporty standing with his back to their car, leaning on the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

“God, Sporty, don’t sneak up on people like that,” she fumed, but embarrassed nonetheless that she’d been so easily startled.

Before Sporty could respond, Hunter placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her away from the house.

“It’s okay, Sporty, what have you got?” He said.

McCall felt her nervousness fade with each step she took away from the gloomy mansion. Nonetheless, it felt like she was being watched and it was with difficulty that she resisted the urge to look back at it.

“He left town,” Sporty informed them.

“Are you kidding me?” Hunter exclaimed angrily.

“Whoa – whoa, man, easy.” Sporty held up his hands in a placating gesture. “He’s coming back. My source says he made a run to San Francisco, but he should be back some time tomorrow.”

Hunter groaned. “What the hell is he doing in San Francisco?”

Sporty shuffled his feet. “I don’t know.” At McCall’s incredulous look he hastened to explain. “Look - it’s a new source I got and he hasn’t fully comprehended the importance of keeping me completely in the know.”

McCall rolled her eyes. Sporty caught the look and tried to mollify her. “But I did get something else on him.”

Hunter sighed. “Make it good, Sporty.”

“Dig deeper on this guy. These girls he killed on film are not his first. Before he was Bernie D, he was Wilhelm B. Dietz.”

“Is that so?” Hunter sounded skeptical.

“Check it out,” Sporty urged him. “I hear he’s one bad dude.”

“We will. Come on, McCall,” Hunter opened her car door.

“Where are we going?” she asked as the car pulled away from the curb, leaving Sporty to watch them drive off.

“To find out if what he said is true.”

What about the house?”

“We’ll stake it out tomorrow night.”

Back at the station, Sporty’s information turned out to be true. After many hours of computer work and phone calls and going through countless files, they now had a complete picture of Bernie D, aka Wilhelm B. Dietz.

And it was a terrifyingly ugly picture that hit a little too close to home. Thirty years ago, there had been a string of child murders, caught on film at the very house they had gone to. A total of six young girls, ages 8 to 11 had been terrorized in the house, and ultimately killed by a masked man and then the videos had been released to a select group of viewers.

McCall didn’t want to think about the type of people who got off on watching snuff films. Dietz had been suspected, but no one could prove it and the file ended up in the cold case file. Subsequently, Dietz had disappeared but it now seemed that he had returned to continue his work under a new name. She was further dismayed to see how closely her nightmares were tied to the case.

But the biggest shock came when she looked at the pictures of the victims from thirty years ago. She was looking at a glossy 8x10 of the girl in her recurring nightmare. “No,” she murmured, “this can’t be.”

Hunter looked up to see his partner had gone ash pale. Quickly he moved to her side. “What is it, DeeDee?” He asked softly.

She handed him the picture, tears stinging her eyes. “She’s the one who keeps begging me to help her in that house. In my nightmare – this is her.” She clasped her hands in her lap, trying to calm herself. He put the picture down and placed his hands over hers. They were cold as ice.

He didn’t know what to say. And tomorrow they were going to the house that was probably the setting for her nightmare. He looked back at the file and a date caught his eye. Tomorrow, October 31 would be the thirty year anniversary of the girl’s death.

It suddenly seemed too much to bear and McCall wasn’t feeling equipped at the moment to handle it all. Images from her recurring nightmares flashed before her eyes: the house, the terrifying mask, the sinister voice, and the innocent young girl pleas for help. A chill raced down her spine at a speed so quickly that she felt a slight sensation of dizziness.

Hunter could see that she wasn’t doing very well, and was finally able to say something, in an attempt to calm her. “Just breathe easily, and come with me.”

He knew she needed to get away from the desk, so he stood up and gently pulled her from her chair by her hands. “Let’s go outside and get some air.”

Luckily she managed to stand without her legs giving out. On the way down in the elevator, she could hear him talking, but wasn’t focused on his words. She could only hear the voice of that little girl screaming for help.

Once outside, Hunter took her to sit at one of the benches in the outdoor eating area. “Are you okay?” He knew she was having a hard time dealing with the nightmares, but he hadn’t seen her this upset since they started. “Your hands are still so cold. You’re shaking.” He was really worried about her. “McCall? Come on, and talk to me. Just take a deep breath and tell me what’s going through your mind.”

Between a few grayish clouds, the streaming ray of sunshine was welcomed warmth to her face. It was completely unlike the shock of seeing the girl’s photo; which affected her like a splash of ice water on her face. She inhaled and exhaled deeply; finally able to rid herself of some of the shock. “I think I’m okay, now. I was just so stunned when I saw that picture. That’s the same girl in my dreams. I know she’s been dead for thirty years, but I feel like she’s still out there waiting for someone…for me, to save her from that lunatic. And the idea of what that monster did to those girls….” She shuddered as thoughts were too much for her to deal with. “They were just babies. No one should have to suffer through that.

“I know. It’s awful.” Hunter placed a consoling arm around her shoulder. “I just hope we can keep it from ever happening to anyone else.”

“Yeah, I hope so, too.”

Hunter remembered that the next night might be tougher for McCall. “I know it’s really hard on you right now, but we still have to stake out that house tomorrow night. Do you think you can do it? If not, you can call in sick and I’ll partner up with someone else until we’re done.”

“Call in sick? Are you trying to get rid of me, Hunter? Here I am thinking I’m the best partner you’ve had, and now you let me know that I’m easy to replace, on such a tough case too.”

“Oh, well I didn’t mean that. I was just…I…”

Before anymore guilt could set into Hunter, McCall let him off the hook with a smile. “I’m joking with you.” She found that the strain had been broken even more, and she was able to laugh a little at Hunter’s expression. “Look at you. You’re so easy.”

“Oh, I knew you were joking.”

“Sure you did.”

“It’s good to see you’ve released some of the tension. You were pretty shaken up in the office. I was worried about you for a minute.”

“I’m sorry I worried you. But it really did get to me because I never expected to see that picture. And to find out what that psycho did in that house, and to know he wore a mask….well, it’s just so much like the dreams.” She thought about how much more from the case could be tied into her dreams. “After I go back and finish reading the file, I’ll be sure to have the girl’s name. It might be of some comfort to me. I still feel like I owe that little girl my help. Maybe after all this time her spirit is restless because no one helped her and no one was punished for hurting her.”

Hunter didn’t say a word, but McCall could see that he wasn’t ready to buy into that idea. At least not right away.

“I know a lot of people don’t believe in that stuff, but I do, and I’m not ashamed to admit it either. I know if I don’t follow through on this Dietz case, I won’t be able to solve this mystery in my dreams. Maybe my dreams are a way to help find and put Dietz away. He did it thirty years ago when he called himself Wilhelm and now he’s doing it again as Bernie.” Her determination gained strength as she spoke. “It’s got to stop now, Hunter. You can count on me to work one hundred percent on this case.”

“Well, if you’re really serious about going through with the stake out, I hope you’ll be able to get some sleep tonight. We might have to go inside and take a look around if we get the chance. I know you were a little bothered by the exterior of the house, and I hope the interior won’t be too hard on you. I mean, it could wind up being exactly like the house in your dreams.”

McCall thought about that possibility, but didn’t want it to sway her decision on going through with the investigation. “I’ll be fine. But, I’d appreciate it if you’d reassure me that it’ll all be okay.”

“You can count on it.” After a few more minutes of the cool autumn air breezing over them, the team decided it was time to return to their desk and move on with work.

The horrible nightmare invaded DeeDee McCall’s sleep again later that night. It came with more ferocity this time. The man in the mask taunted her with his tricks of disappearing and reappearing; sometimes in her own house. His red eyes blazed even brighter, and he continued to remind her that he could never be caught. In the distance, somewhere in the upstairs area of the old mansion, she could hear the girl screaming for help. And even more upsetting; once again she could have sworn that someone was somewhere in her house. Just as she had before, she took her gun and searched the place and just like before, she didn’t find an intruder. She wondered how much more her nerves could take because it was getting to be all too real, without any substantial evidence.

She settled in for the second time that night, but couldn’t get the thoughts of what went on in that big house out of her mind. And knowing that tomorrow might be the day she actually set foot inside of it weighed heavily in her thoughts as well. She was curious to see if it would be the same as in her dream, and also dreaded it. But she wanted to believe that this little girl, the one in desperate need of help would somehow lead her to solving a few mysteries. So, tomorrow, Halloween night would be the night for kids in costumes to receive treats or play tricks, while she and Hunter would do their best to not be tricked by a sicko named Dietz. Before drifting off to sleep, she thought of the girl with the red hair. She had no idea that the child would come to mean more to her than she could ever imagine.

Hunter only had to take one look at his partner to see that she didn’t have a restful night. She was sitting at her desk, shoulders slumped and poring over the case files. He was angry with himself for not staying with her last night; sleeping on her couch in an effort to stave off the nightmares. Well, he’d fix that today.

She glanced up at his arrival and he was struck by how pale she was, making her dark eyes seem larger than usual.

“McCall . . .” he started to try and convince her not to go with him to the house but the sheer determination he saw told him he’d be wasting his breath.

“Her name is Colleen Sullivan.”

He almost asked who, and then looked at the picture she was holding. The little girl in her nightmares.

“She was the last one,” McCall continued softly, her fingers running across the photo as if she could feel the porcelain skin. “I knew her sister.”

Hunter sank into his chair like a deflating balloon and his mouth dropped open, working but no sound came out.

Finally, he found his voice. “Are you sure?”

McCall raised her eyes to meet his. “I never knew what happened to Caitlin’s sister, she was gone when her family moved next to mine. Of course, we were too young to be told anything – just that she was gone.” She reached for a Kleenex and dabbed at her eyes and nose.

Hunter watched her silently.

“I don’t know if Caitlin ever learned the truth. They moved again when were in high school and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

“Until now, when you’re dreaming about her sister.”

McCall nodded morosely.

Hunter rubbed his hands across his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it. He thought about the case they had been working on with Vice, and to now discover that it was linked to a previously unsolved string of murders with an almost identical M.O. was chilling. He didn’t want to believe that the ghost of a girl, murdered thirty years ago was asking for his partner’s help in bringing the killer to justice.

He sighed. “So, you never knew anything about Colleen?”

“No. The picture in the case file is a blow up of the one in her parent’s house. Back then, Caitlin said she learned early on, not to talk about Colleen.” McCall watched Hunter expectantly, waiting to see where he was going to go with this.

“Okay, let’s put together everything we’ve got.”

With a grateful smile, McCall spread out the folders and they spent the morning making their case. By lunchtime, they decided they had everything they needed – except Bernie and whatever evidence was in the house. She was shocked that their case with Vice to nail Bernie D was expanding in such a twisted fashion and hoped that no matter if he went by Wilhelm Dietz or Bernie D, that the killings would stop now. She hoped that she would be able to find Caitlin’s family and give them long overdue closure in the death of their daughter.

Thoroughly disgusted after learning just how despicable their suspect was and how long he’d been in business, Hunter couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. Weston and Andrews were happy to get the report and volunteered to stake out the house until later that evening. Hunter hung up the phone and glanced down at his watch.

“Come on, McCall. Time for lunch.” He straightened the piles of papers scattered across his desk and reached for his jacket.

“I’m not hungry, Hunter, but thanks. You go ahead.” She tried to sound nonchalant, and busied herself with the stacks of folders, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Hunter watched her with narrowed eyes, arms crossed across his chest. And waited.

It took McCall a full minute to realize that Hunter hadn’t said anything and without thinking; looked up. She jumped slightly when she found herself on the receiving end of a stern glare.

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“You know perfectly well, what. Lunchtime. Grab your purse and let’s go.” When she didn’t immediately move, Hunter moved in. “Or do I have to pick you up and carry you to the car?” He leaned in close and his voice dropped to a whisper.

Their faces mere inches apart, McCall felt her chest constrict and her breathing became faster and shallower. “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged, her voice also low.

“Try me.” Hunter met her gaze without flinching.

McCall sat frozen. (Would he really? In the squad room?) She looked around to see that it was almost deserted at this time; nearly everyone was gone and the few remaining were otherwise occupied. Hunter stepped closer and actually pulled her chair back before she realized he was serious and she quickly jumped to her feet.

“Okay, okay – I’m coming. Save the caveman routine for some other time,” she said, laughing.

Hunter grinned. ”You got it.”

McCall fastened her seatbelt. “So, what’s for lunch?”

Hunter kept his eyes on the road. “It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, Hunter,” McCall cajoled. “I’m too tired for surprises.”

“My point exactly. So just sit back and enjoy the ride.” Hunter peeked over and couldn’t help but smile.

“I saw that.”

Hunter just laughed.

“Hey! What are we doing at my house?” McCall looked around in astonishment. “Wait a minute.” She looked at him suspiciously. “If you think I’m making you lunch – “

“Heaven forbid!” Hunter exclaimed in mock horror. “Come on, McCall. Let’s just go inside and all will be made clear.”

McCall frowned but acquiesced. She led him into the living room and plopped down on the couch. “Well, here we are.”

Hunter sat down on the coffee table to face her, their knees almost touching. “I’m serious now, McCall.”

She just stared at him, eyes widening in surprise at the tone of his voice.

“If you are going to insist on coming with me tonight to stakeout Bernie’s house, then I’m going to insist that you have lunch and then you are going to lie down for a few hours to sleep. Right now you are sleep deprived and I want you at your best tonight. Bernie is a cold blooded killer and I don’t want anything to go wrong because you’re tired and I’m distracted worrying about you.”

McCall jerked her head over, a spark of anger flashed in her eyes, but it quickly died when she saw the fear that etched his features. She sighed. “All right.”

“Thank you,” Hunter said happily, leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Now he knew how tired she was, since she had given in so quickly. “Then, here’s the plan. I want you to go upstairs and take a nice warm bath.”

“But I just had a shower a few hours ago,” McCall protested.

“To get relaxed,” Hunter explained. “I’ll go and get some lunch and bring it back. We’ll eat and then rest.”

McCall rolled her eyes but dutifully headed up the stairs.

Later, she had to admit that Hunter had had a good idea. She was totally exhausted. The warm bath water was soothing. He had brought their favorite chowder and he even convinced her to drink some heated milk with a touch of nutmeg that his mother swore by. Now, nestled in her bed, the room darkened by the large blanket Hunter had draped over the window, and a single candle glowing in the far corner emitting a soothing spiced vanilla scent, she thought she might be ready to actually sleep.

Until she closed her eyes.

Almost immediately the masked face appeared before her and she had to bite her lip not to cry out in sheer frustration. “Go away!” She wanted to yell.

As if on cue, Hunter poked his head in. He wasn’t completely surprised to see that his partner was lying with her eyes wide open.

“Hey, why haven’t you gone to sleep yet?” He asked softly, moving to the bed and sitting down beside her. “Are you okay?”

McCall nodded, unable to speak. Hunter reached over and tenderly stroked her cheek.

At last she found her voice. “Would - would you lie down with me?” She asked demurely.

Hunter paused a beat before answering. “DeeDee McCall, are you coming on to me?” He asked hopefully, his face lighting up.

“Why yes I am, Rick Hunter,” she replied with a wink, steering him away from thinking she was too afraid to go to sleep.

Hunter settled down next to her. He’d let her think that he misunderstood, knowing she was trying to put up a brave front. The fact that she trusted him to comfort her without judging was a gift he would cherish.

He waited for her to get comfortable, and then carefully situated himself alongside her. Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.

When Hunter awoke several hours later, he all but flew out of the bed. (Shit!) He swore. He hadn’t planned on falling asleep himself and now they were late. “Come on, McCall – up and at ‘em!”

McCall awoke slowly, having slept soundly for the first time in a week. She felt like she could sleep another twelve hours at least. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re gonna be late. Hurry up!” He ran out of the room to let her get dressed and went to the kitchen to grab two sodas and something to eat on the way.

To her credit, McCall was ready in two minutes flat. Hunter had to admit that the extra sleep had obviously done her good. She looked a little disheveled, but definitely rested and refreshed.

They ran to the car and sped off. They arrived at the Dietz House thirty minutes later than planned; much to their embarrassment. Hunter got out of the car to get report and took the ribbing dished out, knowing it was deserved.

Finally he had enough. “All right, guys,” Hunter held up his hands, “We surrender – you win. Lunch on us next time.”

“You got it, man.” Andrews said, reaching out his hand. Hunter shook it.

“So, what did we miss?”

“Nothing that we could see. Still no lights on. Maybe he’s a no-show.”

“Yeah, maybe. We’ll take it from here.”

“Okay,” Weston started the car. “Good luck. I’m ready to get out of here. This place gives me the creeps – even the trick-or-treaters are giving this place a wide berth. ”

“Thanks.” Hunter watched them drive off and walked back to the car. He took a moment to look up and down the street, noticing for the first time that there was only one dim street lamp and none of the houses around Dietz’s seemed to be occupied. It was as if nobody wanted to live anywhere near the place.

McCall stared at the Dietz House, dark and decaying. (If ever there was a haunted house, then this surely was it,) she thought. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from it; it was almost hypnotic.

“McCall.”

She drew in a sharp breath, her heart jack hammered in her chest. “What is it with you guys sneaking up on me?” She said breathlessly.

Hunter got in the car. “Sorry.” He gave her a chance to catch her breath. “See anything?”

“No.”

They both stared intently at the darkened mansion. Seconds later a light glowed dimly on the second floor.

As they waited in the parked car across the street, the light gained attention. “Look.” McCall pointed toward the second floor window. “There’s some sort of light on up there. It just came on.”

Hunter turned to find it, but couldn’t. “Where is it?” He got out of the car to take a look. “Which window are you pointing at?”

“Right there.” She stretched her arm further out of the car to point more directly. “Don’t you see it? It’s like a candle burning.”

“I don’t see it.” Hunter took a few steps back; craning his neck to get a better view.

“Where?”

“It’s the second window from the left. It’s got to be a candle. See how the light flickers?”

“McCall, it must have gone out. I don’t see a thing.”

“What? Is your eyesight going? It’s right there in second win…” Before McCall could finish expressing her irritation with Hunter for not seeing the muted form of light; it faded away. She blinked her eyes; trying to focus more on the window which had held the light. “It’s gone. I saw a light up there, but now it’s gone.”

Hunter didn’t see the light, and thought maybe he’d missed it. But it did occur to him that maybe his partner’s lack of rest could be causing her to have some kind of hallucination. Instead of bringing up that subject, he slipped behind the steering wheel. “I just missed it, I guess. Maybe we should go knock on the door. If no one answers, you’ll just pick the lock and let us in. How ‘bout it?”

McCall knew they didn’t have the search warrant yet, so to get inside, breaking in would be the only way. Although she didn’t always feel it was their legal right to break and enter; there were times when she felt it was absolutely necessary. And, with Hunter urging….sometimes daring her to do so on occasion it didn’t help matters. After sighing heavily at the thought of going inside the house with the unpleasant exterior; figuring the interior would be equally or less unpleasant, she agreed. “Okay, we’ll go in. But we’ll knock first, and ask a few questions if someone answers.”

“Okay, that sounds like a plan.” Hunter waited for her to make the first move, and noticed she didn’t appear to be in a hurry. “I’m ready when you are.”

McCall opened the car door and stepped out, with Hunter coming around the front of the car to join her. Before she took a step from the car, she glanced back up at the window where she’d seen the light. After crossing the street, she hesitated again before going up the walkway.

“Are you okay?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah. It’s just that I’m feeling more like I know this place…like I’ve been here before, other than when we came the other day. I guess it’s those awful dreams.” She noticed a look of concern of her partners face. “Don’t worry. I can do this. I’ll be fine as long as I know you’ve got my back.”

“Always, DeeDee. Always.” The smile on his face, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice were proof enough for her.

“Come on, let’s go.” She shook off her uneasy feeling and led the way to the door. She wanted to get in and out before the last bit of sunlight ended its shift for the day.

After three tries at knocking, without getting answer, he suggested she give up and put the lock picking skill into action. As soon as the right side of the double doors opened, McCall could see that the foyer seemed quite familiar, just like her dreams. As they made their way into the huge formal living room; sweeping away cobwebs with their hands, the duo found a tattered dark green velvet sofa in the room, along with fresh footprints on the hardwood floor. There was a place on the green velvet that indicated that someone had sat there often enough to keep the dust in that area minimal. The mint green octagonal rug in the center of the room lay beneath a sturdy oak coffee table.

“Look at this.” Hunter whispered, pointing to the rings on the table that were obviously made by a glass or a cup. “Someone was here not too long ago, and may still be here.” He drew his gun from his side holster and McCall pulled hers from the holster attached just above the waistband at the back of her pants. Hunter asked if she wanted to take the den while he checked the dining room and kitchen. Not wanting to have a whole floor dividing them, they’d save the upstairs for later.

On her way to the den, McCall noticed a door across the hall from the den. Just as she was about take a step toward the door, a small gray mouse ran across her path. She breathed a sigh of relief that it didn’t want to join her, and also because it wasn’t a huge rat. She opened the door to what was a half bath; quite disgusting with mold or mildew in almost every corner. Turning around to make a quick exit, she was startled when she caught sight of her reflection in the cracked mirror above the large sink. After catching her breath she went ahead to the den.

It was a rather large room which at one time could have had children laughing as they played board games and made tiny towns from building blocks. The empty room, with its large picture window and bench seat, should have been an area for children to watch the sunset and have their parents reading stories to them. Maybe before Dietz took over, those things did happen, but not as recently as thirty years or so ago. She thought of what horrible things actually went on inside this house and the sounds of children laughing faded from her mind.

As she made her way back to the foyer, Hunter came out to meet her with his findings. “There’s nothing in the kitchen or dining room except a lot of dust, but the kitchen door looks like it’s been in use lately. The dust around the bottom of the door has been disturbed. What’d you find in the den?”

“The same…dust.” She wiped the dust and cobwebs from her hands onto her pants. “Apparently this guy isn’t into housekeeping.”

McCall suggested they search one more room downstairs, together, and then head upstairs. The library; three walls covered with cherry finished bookcases, was another room that at some time could have been filled with good times. There might have been books containing classic poetry, works of fiction, non-fiction political works and possibly a collection by Dr. Seuss and various nursery rhymes. Encyclopedias and dictionaries would have been a part of the collection as well. She could imagine that at some point the man of the household might have even had a desk where he may have worked on items he hadn’t had time to finish at work on some days. She visualized a kind faced man sitting there with his pipe, completely engrossed in his work, until one of his children asked to be read to, or to be tucked into bed. The man would also make time to pay attention to his wife and smile at her for no reason and to tell her he loved her just because it was true.

Once again, the horrors of Dietz’s crimes erased the good memories for her. She thought silently “The people living her before Dietz had no idea that their perfect house would become a chamber of torture for young girls.”

Hunter spoke softly to his partner. “Let’s check out the second floor.” Keeping quiet with slow steady steps, they made their way up to the first landing of the staircase. Making a right turn, they headed up to the next level of stairs, which lead to second landing. Finally, they got to the top where the hallway began.

Hunter checked the first two bedrooms at the start of the hall on his own. He searched those rooms and one bathroom; but didn’t find much of anything. He walked up to his partner who was standing in the hall and told her he’d check the bedroom around the corner if she’d be okay alone. She told him to ahead. He told her he’d probably run into the same luck as with the other rooms, and would be right back.

McCall felt herself drawn to the master bedroom at the opposite end of the hall. At first she thought someone was calling to her…whispering something to her and for a moment she thought it was her partner. But she remembered that he was at the other end of the hallway, and the voice was coming from inside the room she stood in front of. She stood outside the door for a few moments, listening to what sounded like a child crying.

“Please let me out. I won’t tell anyone what happened, I promise. Let me out of here. Please open the door.”

The voice became very clear to McCall as she heard a child…a little girl begging to be set free. Suddenly she heard the doorknob being turned, and looked down to see it move as the little girl must have tried to open it. Not knowing for sure if it was a child or the captor at the door, she took a firm grip on her gun, took a step back and tried to prepare herself for whoever was coming out. Just as she took a silent deep breath, the door knob stopped moving. She held steady, until she heard the child again.

“Is someone out there? Are you going to take me home?”

McCall was slightly startled by the questions. She now knew that the little girl was alone and it was safe to enter the room to rescue her. “I’m here, sweetheart! Don’t cry! I’m a police officer and I’m here to help you! I’ll call my partner and he’ll help us too. Rick! Rick!”

He didn’t answer.

She continued to speak to the little girl. “Listen to me. My name is Dee Dee and you’re going to be fine, okay?” She began to feel frustrated. She couldn’t get the door open and Hunter still hadn’t come to find her. She felt she had three options; shooting, picking or breaking the lock with a sturdy kick. She took a closer look at the doorknob and realized that even with her skills it would waste a lot of time picking the old outdated lock.

“I need you to stand back, away from the door so I can kick it in.” The little voice was silent and she could only hope that the girl had done as she was told. Without waiting another second, she told the child to stand away from the door as she’d try to beak the door down. She kicked it once, but it didn’t budge.

“Rick! Hunter, come here!” McCall tried kicking the door again but the lock wouldn’t give.

Finally Hunter rounded the corner; coming down the hall at full speed with his gun drawn. He saw the desperate look on his partners face as she explained the situation.

“A little girl’s in this room and I can’t get the door open!”

Just as Hunter was about to try to break the door down, McCall heard the lock click and stopped him. “Wait! I think she opened it.” She took the doorknob and turned it slightly. He watched as she slowly opened the door and went inside.

He kept his gun ready for any surprises, and followed her inside. He took the miniature flashlight from his pocket and shone the light around the room which was completely empty except for a few ragged drapes over the two windows. There were two places the child could be…the large double door closet or the bathroom inside the master suite.

McCall called for the child. “Honey, it’s okay now.” She opened the bathroom door with disappointment. “Nothing.” She must be in the closet. “I know you’re hiding in the closet, but you can come out now. We’ll take you home.”

Since there was no answer, she went to open the closet door to let the little girl out. When she opened the door, she received quite a surprise. As Hunter’s flashlight shone in her direction he could see the confused looked on her face. “Is she alright?”

McCall stared into the closet completely taken aback. Hunter’s curiosity peaked and he started toward the closet. “Well, is she okay?” The way she looked at him told him that something was wrong.

“She’s not here.”

Hunter, a little surprised at the reply, took a look inside as McCall one again stated the obvious. “The closet’s empty.”

Dumbfounded, she just stood there, hands hanging limply at her side, mouth open, forming a perfect “o”.

Hunter sighed and stepped over to his partner. Facing her, he draped one arm across her shoulders and pulled her close until their foreheads were touching.

McCall let her eyes slip shut, and when she felt his breath warm on her cheek, she wanted to cry. “I’m not crazy, Hunter,” she whispered brokenly.

“I didn’t say you were,” he whispered back.

She raised her eyes to meet his and let her expression tell him that she thought that whether he said it or not; he thought she might be a little crazy.

He sighed again. “Look, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’ve had a recurring horrendous nightmare and we’re here trying to nab a psycho, child killer with a twisted obsession for snuff films and pornography.” He caught her eye and held her gaze. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

McCall stared at him a moment longer, searching every inch of his face. Finally, she accepted his words and nodded.

Hunter stepped back and glanced around the room. Nothing. “Let’s keep looking.” He headed for the hallway.

Biting her lip in consternation, McCall went back to the closet for one more look. For any sign of the little girl she was sure she had heard. When the door to the master bedroom slammed shut behind her, she whirled around to find that she was now alone in the room. “Hunter!” she cried out and ran to the door.

Locked.

Terror like a white hot iron leaped into her chest and she felt her heart try and crawl up in her throat. Breathing suddenly became difficult. Frantically, she turned and twisted the knob to no avail and when she looked again, she saw that there was no key. She jerked on the knob until she thought her arms would come out of their sockets.

“Hunter! Hunter, where are you? Answer me, Hunter,” she begged.

The only reply was a grunt and then the sounds of a struggle on the other side. With her ear pressed firmly to the door, she strained to hear what was going on. Just as she was reaching for her gun, a body crashed into the door. Instinctively she leapt back, half expecting the door to come off its hinges.

“Hunter!”

Silence. Poised to jump back, she again strained to hear what was going on just outside the door. She thought she heard something being hauled down the hall. Something heavy. The next sound was thumping down the stairs.

(Oh, God – please – please don’t let it be Rick!)

Again she called out for him, but there was nothing. She was alone.

Alone.

Every horrible thing was magnified to the nth degree when you were alone. Finally she reached for her gun and took careful aim; a task made more difficult by her body’s overload of adrenalin and fear. Just as she was about to squeeze the trigger, she realized that the knob was turning and with a loud creak, the door swung open.

No one was there.

In that instant, she felt like the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz, as he stood in the Haunted Woods, clutching his tail desperately and with eyes squeezed shut, proclaiming, “I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks.”

Up until now, she thought she believed in ghosts, but in an abstract way. She didn’t truly comprehend what that meant, exactly. She hadn’t taken it the next step and wondered what she would do or feel if put in a situation where she was confronted with the supernatural. Certainly Bald Mountain had been unnerving, but deep down, she hadn’t really believed ghosts were responsible, had she?

Then she remembered that she had read about houses that could absorb the emotions experienced in them. Could the sheer terror suffered by those helpless young girls have reached some kind of overload and the right person with the right connection act as a catalyst, allowing it to take on a new kind of energy? Could her link to Colleen through Caitlin have brought Colleen back somehow – to bring justice after thirty years?

She didn’t know for sure. So here she was and she found herself engulfed by a tidal wave of the blackest fear she had ever experienced in her life. And if this was indeed Colleen, then the only way to put her to rest was to find Dietz. And Hunter.

Her mind became numb and then she felt another surge of adrenalin, more potent than she’d ever had before and she began to tear through the house. Beyond hysterical, she searched the entire upstairs, running from room to room, opening every door she encountered without hesitation. In her fractured state of mind, she imagined she was reliving her nightmare and occasionally Dietz’s face would appear before her, taunting her. She even thought she heard Colleen calling for help. Her worst nightmare was unfolding before her very eyes.

Without conscious thought, she was drawn to the kitchen and ended up before the door to the basement. The last place to look was behind the very door she now stood in front of. Feeling like she had just run a marathon, her breath coming in short ragged gasps, she scrounged up every ounce of courage she could muster. It must have been enough, because seemingly of its own volition, her right hand reached out to grasp the door knob.

As she turned the tarnished metal, a low agonized groan escaped her parchment dry lips. She pulled the door back and faced the steep staircase. Below, it was pitch black and her flashlight now seemed woefully inadequate.

Then the smell like a rotted grave, hit her like a physical blow. She gagged twice before regaining her composure, the stench nearly overpowering her.

“Hunter!” she called out, her voice sounding too high-pitched to her own ears. When she didn’t receive a response, she took a moment to wipe her hands, now slick with sweat on her pants before proceeding forward.

With her flashlight in one hand and her gun in the other, she would have to go down the stairs using only her legs that felt as though they had been replaced with flimsy rubber. She braced her gun hand on the opposite wrist and took the first shaky step and then the next and the next, sweeping her flashlight and gun from side to side.

Each step revealed more of Dietz’s chamber of torture and the instruments used to inflict the pain and suffering on those innocent girls and the remnants of torn and bloodied clothing left behind.

McCall made a low, keening sound. She could feel her heart thudding painfully in her chest and in her head. Her lungs were burning; the air becoming more noxious and stale the further down she went.

“Hunter!” She barely recognized her own voice, thin and reedy.

There was still no sign of him; but now her flashlight shone on a long table, filled with both old and new cameras, camcorders, old 8mm’s and piles of film and cartridges. There was something else at the end of the table. Hesitantly she took another step forward, the darkness pushing against her like some kind of approaching force field, sapping her strength as she realized what she was looking at. Her flashlight trembled in her grasp as it shone its light on the object before her.

The mask.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. It was the face in her nightmare. Exactly.

She stared at it, mesmerized, her breath hitching in her chest. (This isn’t real,) she thought desperately, (this can’t be happening – it can’t be possible.)

Yet she was unable to tear her eyes away from the glowing red orbs that stared back at her.

Eyes that shone with a hellish fire born of pure evil.

Eyes that held her transfixed.

Eyes that blinked.

DeeDee McCall screamed.

Dietz rose up from behind the mask and vaulted smoothly over the table. McCall stumbled backwards across the cellar, dropping the flashlight in order to have both hands on the gun. Dietz moved in with nearly superhuman speed, going for her legs; too fast for McCall to drop her aim.

They both went down and rolled twice. Dietz struggled to keep her legs trapped as McCall raised her arms and brought the gun down hard. She intended for the blow to strike his head, but he dodged at the last second and she merely grazed him.

In the blink of an eye, she managed to bring the muzzle back up, but before she could pull the trigger, he viciously backhanded her and the gun clattered across the cellar floor. Now his hands pinned her wrists to the ground, his death grip threatening to crush the bones.

When Dietz scooted up to straddle her body, it allowed her legs mobility and feeling his heavy weight across her pelvis gave her a surge of power, nearly forcing him off of her.

He recovered quickly though, and wrapped his hands firmly around her throat.

And squeezed.

McCall twisted her head frantically, trying to get any oxygen at all. Dietz denied her, even as she clawed desperately at his hands. The roaring in her ears was deafening and she could feel each of his fingers digging into her skin. She knew with an awful certainty that if she didn’t do something fast; she would be unconscious or dead.

She found the necessary strength to focus on one or two fingers and every time one loosened even the slightest, she sucked in as much air as possible. It had to be enough, if she hoped to survive.

Dietz was unrelenting and her struggles weakened. Her vision began to dissolve into tiny black specks, even though her eyes felt like they would bulge right out of their sockets and the pressure around her neck was constant. Her hands fell lifelessly to her side.

Suddenly the nearly unendurable force that was squeezing the life out of her stopped. In the dim light, a brighter glow appeared over Dietz’s right shoulder and in shock he released her and spun around. Although she was free, McCall was unable to move. She and Dietz both stared at the glowing apparition that McCall recognized as Colleen.

“NO!” Dietz shouted. He rose to his feet to confront her. “NO!”

McCall realized with a detached wonder that the young girl seemed to be floating. With outstretched arms, she advanced on Dietz who backpedaled quickly, stumbling over McCall’s body. He went down with a crash and Colleen sailed over McCall to envelop him. Lying on the cellar floor, she shivered in the cold air that rushed through her. Unable to move and see what horror was transpiring across the room, she felt her body go limp from the oxygen deprivation and consciousness abandoned her as Dietz’s shrieks filled the room.

Some time later, Rick Hunter opened his eyes to pitch blackness. Every muscle in his body ached; especially his head and he realized that he was lying in a closet. He could feel several bruises forming on his body and he discovered a knot at the back of his skull. The cramped quarters smelled musty and fetid. He glanced at the glowing display on his watch and saw to his horror that it was almost three in the morning. Remembering his struggle with the man he assumed was Dietz, he was desperate to find McCall. What had happened to her?

Stumbling to his feet, he fumbled around for the doorknob, swallowing hard when he was hit with a wave of nausea. When it didn’t open, he tried to force it open without success. Unable to get the necessary space for sufficient power, it took several painful attempts to finally break out.

The sight before him nearly took his breath away, leaving him dizzy and more nauseated. His partner’s body sprawled on the dirt floor, lying in the beam of her flashlight, her eyes closed and a trickle of dried blood from her mouth. He was at her side in an instant and then true terror took hold of him.

Her throat. Sweet Jesus, her throat. It was beyond dreadful. The entire length of her neck was covered in ghastly blue and purple blotches.

His hands stroked her face and he felt tiny puffs of air on his fingers. “DeeDee? Can you hear me?”

To his immeasurable relief, her eyes fluttered open. Before she could feel relief at seeing him, she darted her gaze around frantically and struggled unsuccessfully to pull herself up and talk. “Dietz?” It came out husky and rough. Hunter had to lean in to hear her.

Hunter gently held her down and shook his head. Her voice had been decimated. He looked around and spotted Dietz lying across the room. Hating leaving her side for even a second, he knew he had to make sure Dietz was no longer a threat. “Stay here, and don’t move. He’s over there. I’ll check on him.” A quick distasteful check confirmed there was no pulse to be found; the body was cool to the touch.

He scrambled back to her side. “He’s dead. Don’t – don’t try to talk.” His eyes and hands raked over her body, searching for any other injuries. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” McCall opened her mouth, but Hunter quickly stopped her. “Sshh, don’t. Just blink once for yes, twice for no.”

She closed her eyes and then opened them twice.”

He sighed in relief. “We’ve got to get out of here.” Gently he reached out and scooped her into his arms.

Although he was able to lift McCall with ease, Hunter didn’t want to take chances getting her upstairs. Before making another move, he made sure he wasn’t suffering from any dizziness due the bump on his head, and took each step leading up and out of the cellar with extra caution. Once they reached the living room, he lay her down on the rundown green velvet sofa and gave her a sympathetic look. “I hate to leave you on this thing, but I have to go to the car and call the paramedics.”

McCall grabbed his hand as he was about to walk away. She tried to speak, but the irritation in her throat wouldn’t allow her, and she only managed a small cough.

Hunter figured he had an idea of what she wanted to say and answered her. “Don’t argue with me, okay? You really need to have someone check you out, and I don’t think I should try to drive you to the hospital with this bump on my head.” He winced as he touched the sore spot. “Besides, we can’t leave the scene with Dietz’s body downstairs.”

McCall nodded in agreement and while reluctant to settle into the dirty sofa, she rested her head against its arm.

As Hunter walked out the door, McCall thought about what she had tried say to her partner. It wasn’t that she was going to argue against going to the hospital, because from the way she felt, she knew better. It was that she wanted to tell him about Colleen. She’d seen that little girl…or what represented her in the cellar, and knew that if whatever it was hadn’t appeared that Dietz would most certainly have killed her. She knew it with all her heart that Colleen was there to save her.

There were so many thoughts running through her head, and with the throbbing pain around her neck, it made for a not so nice combination, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the situations.

Another eerie thought in particular, was that of the child calling for help from inside a locked room. Once she entered that bedroom she expected to see a scared little girl huddled in a corner, but instead; she and Hunter walked into a room where only remnants of past horrible deeds were evident.

She couldn’t shake the idea that it was Colleen who called her into that bedroom, in order to keep Dietz from getting to her. For a split second she could almost feel his hands around her throat again, and it chilled her to the bone. She was grateful to Colleen, but at the same time she had to remember that Colleen was murdered thirty years ago. She knew ghosts existed, and that the old house could have a hundred in it as far as she knew, but to have one to save her life was something she never would have thought would happen…ever. Explaining her theory to her partner and having him believe her or not would be an interesting event ahead.

Hunter had returned to her side and told her that her ‘chariot’ would arrive shortly. While they waited the twelve minutes, he told her how he was jumped by Dietz in the hallway, and how he’d obviously lost consciousness after a blow to the head. He leaned over the show McCall the bump on the back of his head and she very gently reached up to touch it. She frowned as if she felt the pain herself and whispered ever so softly - “I’m sorry”.

“Don’t be.” Hunter replied while placing a gentle kiss on her hand. “As long as you’re okay, and we got Dietz, then it’s worth it. I’ll survive. I’ve survived much worse, haven’t I?” She smiled and pointed to herself nodding yes.

“Yeah, you too.” Hunter added with a smile. “We’ve both been through it, and made it out a million times. And we’ll do it until the day they force us off duty to draw social security.”

After watching a smile come across his partner’s face, Hunter looked out the window as he heard sounds of help approaching. He saw the paramedics and officers pulling up with lights and sirens in operation and felt relieved that McCall would get to the hospital soon. The bruises around her throat and neck were darkening, and he was worrying even more. After McCall was loaded into her ‘chariot’; as Hunter called it, he made sure to tell the officers that Dietz could be found in the cellar, then immediately climbed into the back of the ambulance with McCall and the attending medic.

After both officers had been checked over in the emergency room and given a fair amount of testing, they were to be admitted for observation. While only a curtain divided the two partners in the ER, each could hear the other’s doctor as they pleaded with them to stay the night. The patients were stubborn, but once the serious subject of each of them losing consciousness was thrown at them, they realized that it would be in their best interest to stay put. Besides, each of them was eager to get cleaned up and have something to eat and Hunter found it much easier to give in after realizing Mc