A/N: Lucia Aquila ^^^ Also, please vote and comment so I know how I'm doing 👌
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POV HAL:

My angel is pissed about me. All I ask, is for him to put something in that small stomach of his. George wasn't joking when he warned about Riley's terrible habits. I'm fine with it; I can take care of my angel even if he doesn't wish for my care. I almost thought I got through with him, those last few seconds before he escaped. His beautiful eyes couldn't leave mine when I started to beg. Those eyes of his screamed something else instead of the coldness that came out of his mouth.

Yes, I begged but wasn't fast enough to finish my sentence. My previous coworkers would have laughed their ass off of they saw how I acted around Riley. I feel as if I can be honest with him and he wouldn't hate me for my actions. The guy worked hard for his job; he's someone so purely honest with wanting to stop the bad guys. It's the complete opposite from the people who work with the FBI.

Everyone keeps their damn secrets. They bargain with the enemies in exchange for "what's important now." Yesterday's enemy becomes today's friend as long as they snitch on another group and keep their mouth shut. I'm sure not all of the FBI is like that, just my specific division. We handled the organized crime in this country. Anything that came in or came out, we know. It wasn't long till I found out how we truly worked. It sickened me so I became a whistleblower. My former boss liked me too much that I just got off with only a demotion to regular investigator. I got to choose where I wanted to go and now here I am. I'm one lucky son of a bitch.

I gave Riley his space after that moment between us. I didn't see him until the next morning when he handed me a folder. "We found where Cassandra O'Dale is," he said without a greeting. I'm glad my angel isn't avoiding me after that unusual tension we created yesterday; I wouldn't know what to do if he did.

"Well, a good morning to you too," I respond earning myself an eye roll. I skim the profile, "So this is potential victim number  four?  Are you sure the Hangman is targeting them chronologically?"

"Hal, the guy killed Thorne, Santana, and McFisher who were arrested in January of 2005. O'Dale has to be next because she's the next arrest in February," explains Riley.  He's already out the door before I question more of his reasoning. It's not that I believe him but I think it is still early to jump to conclusions.

I rush out of my seat to follow after him. Riley drives us to Cassandra's place, a two story home-slash-store sandwiched between other shops in Upside. We enter the store; a light chime announcing our presence. A woman in her forties peeks from behind the counter. She lifts up a box onto the table and seals the opening with duct tape. Riley and I approach the lady and I ask, "Cassandra O'Dale?"

She freezes, facing us slowly. "I didn't do it. I don't have drugs on me and yes, I have been sober for the past ten years." Riley and I look at each other with puzzled expressions. I shake my head and Riley takes the initiative to inform her situation. "No, ma'am. We are here because we have suspicion that you may become the next target for our murderer." Okay, he didn't have to be that straightforward but I can't prevent that.

Cassandra eyes widen and crosses her arms, "It's that serial killer you cops are chasing after, huh? How am I related? I didn't do nothin in my lifetime to earn a psycho on my old ass- well, if the guy is my past drug dealer who I still owe a couple grand." God, this lady is crazy. I glance over to Riley who doesn't seem fazed to her babbling. His hands slip into his coat pockets, fiddling with whatever is inside. He continues, "As I was saying, ma'am. We will have some of our men posted here under your permission."

"Hell no I don't want coppers snooping around here," Cassandra frowns. Her hands are placed on her hips. This woman is still hiding something that law enforcement will not take a liking to. I won't force her to confess something minor; the woman not winding up as a corpse is more important. "Ma'am, I sug-" We are interrupted by a Riley's phone ringing.

My angel sighs before taking the call. He heads outside the store, leaving me with O'Dale. She stares me down with a fearsome gaze for a woman of her age. Her hands are still placed at her hips to show she still defied our offer. I smile tightly, "My partner is right, lady. It's for you safety but we can't ensure it without our own guys watching over you."

"Then I want my taxes back, you money-grubbing coppers," she scoffs. Nothing is going to change this woman's mind. I scratch the back of my neck in frustration. The door bell chimes and Riley walks in. "Hal, we got to get moving. George said he has someone in the hospital who's recovering from Daze." He addresses to Cassandra, "We will take our leave. Be careful, ma'am."

A police car is parked across the street. Riley must have called them to watch over Cassandra, just not closely like he wanted. We hop into his car and drive off to one of the two major hospitals in Upside, Fulton Memorial Hospital. It takes us a couple of minutes with the current traffic and Riley silently cursing for the cars to move. The large white building comes to view. A couple of patrol cars are already parked around. George is outside waiting for us, tapping his foot on the cement impatiently. He waves us over while we hustle our walking pace.

"Who do we have?" asks Riley.

"Kevin Baker-"

I think out loud, "Kevin Bacon?"

"Hal, shut up," scowls Riley.

George continues, "As I was saying, Baker claims he met our Hangman." Riley and I exchange looks before he continues, "Says some shady hooded fellow tried to sell him some cheap drugs. He buys them. Tries one but his seller tells him to take five if he wants the effects to kick in. Baker refuses and his attacker becomes hostile. He says the guy knows how to fight. Took his large body down in a second. Next thing he knows, he's being strangled with rope and is forced to ingest a handful of Daze. A passerby found him foaming in the mouth. That was three hours ago. Two hours later, Baker wakes up and we get our call."

"Great, so we have a survivor. Can he ID our man?"

"No, said the alleyway he was in was too shaded and the guy was wearing all black, not to mention sunglasses."

Riley sighs, shoving his hands in his pocket. George makes us follow him to the third floor of the hospital. It's flu season so the place is busy with nurses being rushed in and out of rooms. We arrive to a room at the end of the hall. A policeman is posted by the window. I give him a nod of acknowledgement as we pass by.

"Baker," George calls out to a guy who's staring out the window. "Tell these guys what you told me, okay." He pats both our shoulders before leaving the room. We probably were holding him back from Lucia, if you know what I mean. Hah.

We stand at the man's beside. I examine his physical state. A noticeable purple bruise is around Kevin's neck. His head is bandaged and a cut marks the left side of his bruised face. A few seconds pass before he looks ready to tell us what happened. At least Riley didn't push him for answers; maybe he's finally learning.

Riley gestures to the two of us, "I'm Detective Swanson and this is Detective Berghim. Could you tell us what happened to you this morning?"

"...Hm, yah," Kevin mumbles. Even though he's eyes are focused on us, I feel as if his attention is not. "Hangman, right? Man, this sucks ass. I didn't think a serial killer would come after me." The man blinks back tears. I couldn't blame him for being emotional; he almost died. "That's why we are here. Hangman came after you because you have a criminal record. You must have done something in your past that he's related in. Do you have any guilt? Suicidal tendencies?" says Riley who's pulling out a notebook and pencil.

I touch my angel's shoulder and whisper to him, "Easy now. Don't make him clam up." Riley shakes off my hand and nods without bothering to give one glance at me. I sigh, crossing my arms before turning my attention to Kevin. The man's now sweating like a pig. He fiddles with his thumbs, no longer facing us. I shortly gesture towards him silently referring to "I told you so." Riley shakes his head continuing, "I can't search for the man if you don't comply with me here, Baker." I slap a hand to my face. Not any better, buddy.

Kevin speaks up, "I-I... I don't have any guilt... I came to terms with my faults a long time ago... I was in a car crash. M-my girlfriend was with me. I made it but she didn't. I got a DUI and was sentenced five years for involuntary manslaughter. I always wished I could turn back time to change what I did. I've recovered mentally and got out early for good behavior..." Tears begin to flow out of his eyes, "D-do you think-" he sniffs, "S-someone wants their rev-revenge for what I've d-done? Man, I've done my time! I don't want to go back!"

I shush him coming to his side. I estimated the guy to be somewhere younger than us by a few years. "Hey, now. You said it yourself. You aren't going back, man. Don't worry. We are only here so that no one harms you. Can you tell us the full story of how you got attacked?" I rub the guy's shoulder. His sobbing calms down which is a good sign. I glance over to my angel who's observing us with a gentle expression. It turns emotionless after he notices I'm staring.

Kevin tells us the same story that George tells us minutes ago. "So you couldn't see anything? Any detail can help. Hell, his build can be of some use. Nothing fancy," asks Riley.

"The guy was shorter than my an inch or two. He also didn't look muscular compared to me," Baker shrugs not knowing what else to say. Riley presses, "Why do you think this guy is the one we are searching for?"

"I don't know. I didn't say it was him but the other detective said it fitted your guy's search. The hooded man kept spouting about my sins or some shit after making me swallow whatever drugs I took. He kept going on and on about my girlfriend... it made me rethink about my actions again," glowers Kevin. The Hangman must be a trained fighter if he can take down buff Baker here.

Riley closes his notebook and stashes it away in his coat pocket. We thank Kevin for his time and leave the hospital.

"I don't get it," says Riley as we walk to his car.

"Get what?"

"The Hangman acts odd."

"Well he is a serial killer," I state while we both enter the car. I received a glare from him which causes me to grin mischievously. I know he has more to say. He shakes his head, "When his plans go wrong, he takes matters into his own hands. Do we have to factor that in our search as well? So far he's somehow coerced all of his victims into suicide who are under the influence of Daze. How much does he give them for them to be pushed so far over the edge? What is he trying to prove?"

We sit silently for a few seconds, letting what Riley ask out loud sink in. I agree with his questions. The Hangman is beginning to get messy and sooner or later he is bound to slip up.

Riley's ringtone blasts once more in the car. With his baby face, I wouldn't have guess correctly in his taste for old music. He talks with whoever is on the other side. "Yes...what?! Why didn't you call me sooner?!" He curses and hangs up the call. He hits the dashboard with his fist before turning the key in the ignition.

"What happened?"

"O'Dale disappeared," he says through gritted teeth. Damn. She's definitely hiding something. I guess there is no rest for the wicked.