The Funeral

Prologue: San Francisco

The man had been following the young woman for close to an hour. Now, he walked past her, mostly so that he could steal a glance at her hands as he strolled past. She wore no rings, so she was likely unattached which was, of course, an essential part of his plan. Like the others, she was very attractive …slender, blue eyes, blonde.

He stopped to window shop, allowing her to again walk ahead of him. Once she was well past, he resumed his pursuit. She was taller than he liked, and for a moment he considered abandoning the hunt, remembering the trouble he had had with the last one. He moved closer, trying to decide. Heels. At least four inches high. Her height would not be a problem. He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. She would do just fine.

The woman glanced at her watch, and quickened her pace. It was apparent that her shopping expedition was over, and that she was heading back to the underground parking garage where he’d first spotted her. It was decision time. Should he seize the opportunity, or do more preparation – maybe monitor her movements for another week to be certain? Despite the powerful yearning he felt inside, he decided on the latter. He would wait and watch. Just like before.

The man selected an alternate route back to the garage, and slipped into a slow job. He was waiting in the shadows when she arrived, and he watched as she entered her shimmering silver BMW. E would never understand why women didn’t lock their car doors at all times. The blonde never even glanced into the back seat while entering the Beemer.

Moments later, the woman eased the car out of its parking spot. It was just after 4:30, approximately the same time as the last week, and the two weeks before. The woman had now established a clear pattern. Next week he would make his move. As the woman pulled away the man closed his eyes, and envisioned what their future together held. Seven days from now she would be with him in his apartment, and within 48 hours of that delicious encounter, she would be dead. Of course, he’d make love to her first. Then, he’d sit and wait…for the funeral.

PART ONE: The Hunter

Chapter One

I’m seriously thinking of interviewing Zubek.

The new Chief of the San Francisco Police Department leaned forward, eyebrows raised. Kent, you can’t be serious. Zubek’s been in Field Training for over four years, and given his history, do you really think he could fill Ivan’s shoes?

Captain Jackson didn’t hesitate. Zubek was a hell of a cop, Chief - the best I ever worked with. He single handedly brought down the Xiang Liu gang.

"And he and his family paid for it. I don’t think he could handle the stress associated with Phoenix.

The Captain smiled inwardly. The Chief was the only guy in the entire SFPD who continued to refer to the case the media had dubbed Thin Air by its official department name. You may be right, but I’d like to give him a shot at the job, if he’s interested.

It’s your call, but I’ll state right up front that I think it’s a big risk putting Zubek into such a high profile position. He crashed before, and it wouldn’t take much to have him fall apart again.

Zubek’s wasn’t like the occasional meltdown we see around here. Anybody would have broken down in similar circumstances. I know I would have, and I suspect you would have, too.

"I’m not suggesting that it wouldn’t have happened to others, but the fact is, it happened to him and you can’t ignore it. Nor can you assume that the passage of time has healed all his scars. In my books, putting Zubek in charge of Phoenix is a huge risk."

I hear you, but I’m going to talk to him, regardless, at least to gauge his interest.

The Chief grunted. If you appoint Zubek as Ivan’s replacement and he fucks up, the D.A. will be all over your ass. You know that, don’t you?

Hey, my job is to find the right person to replace Ivan. Zubek could be that guy, and I’m not going to let Jonathan Byrd and all his political bullshit get in my way.

* * *

Lou Zubek was seated at his desk in the small Field Training office, doing the thing he hated most about his job - pushing paper. The seven SFPD recruits assigned to him were within a week of finishing their 17-week field-training program, and Zubek was preparing his recommendations on where each recruit should be placed. Later, he’d sit down with his associates to review his proposals, gather their input and modify his recommendations, if necessary, before submitting his report to the Administration Division’s Deputy Chief. Then, the laborious cycle would start all over again, with another group of Police Academy grads anxious to take the next step in their budding careers.

Zubek sensed a shadow in the open door. He looked up to see Captain Kent Jackson grinning at him. Hey, Jax. It’s been a long time. He stood to greet his former partner. And I guess I should be calling you Captain now.

Jackson moved toward Zubek, and the two men shook hands. I’m just glad you’re not calling me ‘Action’.

When they had first worked together, almost fifteen years ago, Zubek had nicknamed Kent Action Jackson because of his frenetic style of work. The name had stuck for a while, but eventually had fallen out of common usage. God, I’d forgotten all about that. Action Jackson – the ADD kid. Zubek laughed. That seems like a lifetime ago.

It was.

So what brings you down here? Trying to scoop the hottest new recruits?

I’m here to see you. He pointed to the chair beside Zubek’s desk. "Mind if I sit?

Not at all. He seated himself at the same time as the Captain guided his large frame onto the armless metal chair.

Zoo, you’ve heard about Ivan Grogan’s impending retirement?

Yeah. He’s had a damn good run.

He’ll have completed forty years on the day he walks out of here a month from now.

That’s impressive. I never really had a chance to work with him, but I’ve heard nothing but good things over the years.

All deserved. Jackson paused, leaned forward. Are you aware of what Ivan’s been doing for the last couple of years?

Zubek nodded. "He’s the lead on the Thin Air case, right?"

"Right. Officially, it’s called Phoenix. Thin Air is the name the media has given it."

Peeper coined the term, didn’t he? Arnold J. Peoples, better known as Peeper, was a local crime reporter known for his sensational brand of journalism.

Yeah, I think so.

Zubek shook his head. During his years in Homicide, he’d had more than his share of conflict with Peeper. I can’t believe somebody hasn’t strangled that son of a bitch by now.

I’m with you on that one.

"So, what’s Ivan’s retirement and the Thin Air case have to do with me?"

"Thin Air has the entire Bay Area on edge and, quite frankly, we are no further ahead on this case than we were a year ago. I need to find the right guy to lead this investigation, and I think I might be sitting with him right now."

Zubek’s heart rate accelerated. Jax, I’m flattered that you’d think of me but… He glanced from side-to-side, extended his thick hands, palms up. I mean…look where I am. I haven’t been in the game for over four years. I’ve been a fucking field trainer for the last three, for cris’sakes.

Are you enjoying it?

Zubek averted his former partner’s gaze. I’m just playing out the string, Kent.

You’re 40 years old, Zoo. And I can’t believe that this is where you want to spend the next 15 or 20 years of your life. I’m not offering you anything but a chance to interview for the job. That’s all. And I wouldn’t be doing that if I didn’t believe that you’ve got what it takes to lead this investigation.

And I appreciate it. It’s just…

Captain Jackson stood. You don’t have to make a decision right now. Just think about it. If you decide to go for it, the interview will be with a panel that I’ll lead, and it’ll take place a week from today.

Zubek stood and accepted the Captain’s outstretched hand, but not before wiping his damp palm on his trousers. I’ll think about it.

Good. The Captain pulled a folded paper out of his inside jacket pocket, and handed it to Zubek. "Here’s a temporary code that will allow you access to the Thin Air case file - at least the stuff that we can put online. It’s titled Phoenix on the system. You’ll want to review it if you decide to interview for the position."

Zubek took the paper. Thanks.

How’s Lori?

She’s okay, all things considered. Zubek patted his ample stomach. Constantly on me about my weight.

Yeah, you’ve packed on a few pounds since…

Zubek knew from the look on the Captain’s face that he’d just taken the conversation to an uncomfortable place. He bailed Jackson out. Since we worked together. Right. Zubek indicated his workstation. The desk will do that to you.

The Captain smiled, appeared relieved. And Alexa?

Zubek’s brown eyes misted over at the mention of his daughter’s name. Mostly good days now, but there are still times when she finds it hard.

I can imagine.

No, you can’t, Zubek thought. Not unless you’ve been there. You can’t possibly imagine.

* * *

Ivan Grogan wasn’t the only one preparing for retirement. Lester Wilson had been working at Fairmont Cemetery since the day it opened, over 50 years ago. He was walking the grounds now, as he often did in the early evening. Usually he found it peaceful strolling through the graveyard, but today his mood was very different. His time at Fairmont was coming to an end. It was hard to believe, but the 11,000 cemetery plots that Fairmont could accommodate were only one shy of being full. The other lads were being transferred to a new cemetery in the suburbs, but once the last grave was prepared, Lester was retiring. It was hard to believe, even harder to accept. Lester had either dug, or supervised the dig, of every single grave throughout the years – even the ones for his parents. Plots 4444 and 4445 - side-by-side, like they had been for so many years.

Lester stopped when he reached the lone remaining plot, number 6,777. It wasn’t pre-sold, since people rarely buy a single plot. He wondered who would be the last person buried at Fairmont. He went down on one knee, and ran his fingers through the thick grass covering plot 6,777. He hoped the person who eventually occupied it would be somebody special.

Lester wouldn’t be disappointed.

* * *

Zubek hung around the office for over an hour after Captain Jackson left, but accomplished little. He still had plenty of work to do, but he just couldn’t concentrate. The idea of a possible return to a field position had shaken him, even though his initial reaction had been to forget about any notion of returning to a real police job. He’d already lived that life, with dire consequences. Still, Zubek couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement that accompanied his fear of pursuing this opportunity. He hadn’t felt this alive in years.

Zubek rolled his worn chair closer to his desk, and started pecking at the keyboard with his index fingers. He closed the field training assessment program, and used the temporary pass keys Jackson had given him to access the Thin Air case file.

The Thin Air investigation was the most baffling case the San Francisco police had ever undertaken. It had only become an official department investigation 22 months ago, despite the fact that it involved the mysterious disappearances of 13 Bay-area women over an eight-year period. The reason why it hadn’t earlier been established as an official case was simple. Nobody had ever connected the disappearances of the first five women, which occurred over a six-year period.

Each year in a city the size of San Francisco, hundreds of young women disappear, most of them by choice. The disappearances into Thin Air of the five women had simply blended into the thousands of missing person cases during that period, with nothing linking one to the other. No body had ever been recovered, so there was no real proof that crimes had even been committed. Over time, each of the missing person investigations had gone cold, and the men and women in blue who’d been working them were assigned to other, newer cases.

The connection among the disappearances of the Thin Air women wasn’t made until a new technical analyst, Min Park, had joined the San Francisco force after a three-year stint with the LAPD. Min was a computer genius, and within months of her arrival, she had upgraded the department’s legacy systems with a front-end software program called PROBE that she had written for the LAPD. The PROBE software allowed for much more sophisticated searching of the force’s many historical databases, and created an ability to ferret out data patterns that might go unnoticed by human analysis.

Min had been assigned to work on cold cases – crimes that had never been solved - and within days of deploying her software, she had identified a number of cases that appeared to be linked. The discovery that drew the most attention was the one that tied together several missing person cases. Remarkably, no one had ever connected the baffling disappearances of the five young, blonde, blue-eyed women who had gone missing in the previous six years.

Once the apparent connection among these cases was made, the Chief had acted quickly, setting up Project Phoenix under Ivan’s leadership. Since Min’s discovery, another eight women who fit the profile had disappeared in the city of San Francisco – and not a single woman had been found – nor had a body been discovered.

Zubek wasn’t surprised to learn that Min Park had played a key role in establishing the kill pattern that was now known as Thin Air. He had worked closely with Min during the Xiang Liu case, and had tremendous respect for the vibrant, young Korean woman.

Zubek closed the application, checked the time. He couldn’t believe that he’d been reviewing the Thin Air case file for over an hour. As he turned off his computer, and readied himself for the tedious drive home, Zubek concluded that the last hour was the most enjoyable one he’d ever spent in this godforsaken office.

Chapter Two

The man’s departure from the San Francisco scene was imminent. It wasn’t so much that he’d tired of the city – he loved the entire Bay area, and he’d created some beautiful memories in the eight years he’d been here – it was simply time to move on, just like his friend, Lester. The man moved to his living-room window, which overlooked Fairmont Cemetery. The light was still on in the little building that housed Lester’s cozy office. The man wasn’t surprised. Lester often roamed the graveyard in the early evening hours, and given Lester’s near-term plans, he suspected the professional gravedigger would be doing a little more nightly roaming than usual – holding on to whatever it was his job had given him for so many years.

The man’s thoughts turned to the gorgeous blonde whom he’d selected as his next date. She’d be a perfect addition to his collection, and a fitting end to his time in San Francisco. He thought about what Lester had told him earlier in the day. Only one grave left at Fairmont. The man understood the implications of this – both for him and Lester. He knew he had little choice but to grab the blonde as soon as possible.

* * *

Zubek was pulling out of the parking lot when his cell phone rang. He grabbed the ear piece wired into the device, popped it into his ear. Zubek.

Hi, it’s me. Where are you?

Just leaving.

I’m not in the mood to cook. Do you feel like grabbing some take-out? Maybe stop by the Door?

What about Alexa? Their sixteen-year old daughter hated Vietnamese food.

She’s over at Brandon’s. She’s eating there, I think. Then, they’re going to a movie.

Zubek grunted. He’d only met Alexa’s new boyfriend once, and he hadn’t been impressed. He was three years older than his daughter, and a high school dropout.

Okay. Anything in particular you want?

Whatever you like.

Lori dropped the call. Fifteen minutes later, Zubek wheeled his three-year old Taurus into the Saigon Door’s parking lot. He entered the restaurant and was greeted by its owner, Bao Phan

Hey, Zubek. Good to see you.

You, too, Bao. Business is good?

Always good, ever since… His voice trailed off.

Zubek read his thoughts, pushed the conversation another direction. What’s good today?

Lots of nice specials. The diminutive owner rattled off the names of several dishes, and Zubek selected one. Bao called to a nearby waitress, placed the order, then pointed to the closest unoccupied table. We can sit until food is ready, catch up.

They sat, chatted about nothing, avoided the conversation neither wanted to have. Bao asked, So, when did you shave head? Look like Bao, now. Very clean.

Zubek smiled, turned to one side, showed the stubble above his ear. Still lots of hair, Bao. Just buzzed very short.

Bao ran a hand over his bald scalp, laughed. Sure, Zubek, lots of hair left, just like me. He looked up, and saw the girl he’d called to earlier approaching, carrying two large bags of food. You know my daughter?

Zubek stood. No, I’ve never had the privilege. He smiled at the attractive young woman, extended his hand. Lou Zubek.

She had a strong grip, pumped his hand three times. I’m Sen. My father speaks of you often, Lieutenant Zubek. It’s an honor to finally meet you.

Thank you.

Sen is a nurse at St. Lukes. Sometimes helps out her old man after work.

Sen set the food on the table, bowed slightly, more for her father than Zubek. My father believes it’s important to keep in touch with one’s roots.

Zubek smiled. He’s a wise man. He pulled out a credit card, handed it to her.

Bao reached, took the card from his daughter’s hand. Meal is on the house.

Zubek shook his head. Bao, I really appreciate that, but you’ve given me enough free meals in the past. You really don’t need to…

I do. His tone was firm. Without you, Bao has no business…entire community owes you…can never repay…

Zubek had first met Bao over 4 years ago while conducting a multiple homicide investigation in the Vietnamese section of the mostly Hispanic Mission District. A businessman and his entire family had been brutally murdered, and word on the street was that the killings were the work of Xiang Liu, a vicious street gang that was terrorizing the community. Xiang Liu had built its financial base by offering protection to Vietnamese businessmen, one of which was Bao Phan. Once it had a solid revenue stream, the gang started bringing in sex workers from Vietnam, and nearby Cambodia. The girls operated as outcall-only paid escorts, and could be booked through a number of so-called agencies with names such as Asian Angels, and Oriental Candy.

The street noise was that the murdered man had resisted when Xiang Lui had informed him that his protection fees were being increased. He’d apparently drawn a gun on several gang members, threatening to kill anybody who tried to extort another nickel out of his struggling grocery business. After he and his family were slaughtered, his grocery store had been burned to the ground.

Nobody but Bao Phan was willing to testify against the gang. Bao was a friend of the family who had been murdered, and his recommendation to Zubek was straightforward. Take the gang down by focusing on its sex trade, not its extortion racket. He gave Zubek everything he needed to make this happen, including names and residences of the powerful triumvirate who controlled the gang, and the slum dwellings in which scores of prostitutes – some as young as 12 – were housed.

Working with the SFPD gang task force and vice squads, Zubek coordinated a raid designed to put the gang out of business. Somebody had tipped off the gang’s leaders, however, and when the SFPD made its move, a bloody shootout ensued. Several policemen were shot, one fatally. The three leaders of the gang were also killed, two by Zubek.

That was supposed to be the end of the Xiang Liu gang, but Zubek soon learned that the gang’s roots were imbedded deeper into the community than even Bao Phan knew. Xiang Liu struck back within days…and in a manner that changed Zubek’s life forever.

Zubek shook his head. Well, thank you, Bao. But this is the last time, agreed?

Last time, Zubek. He grinned. Maybe second last…

* * *

The food was delicious. Zubek glanced at his slender wife who was barely eating. Everything okay?

Lori didn’t look up. I’m just not that hungry, that’s all.

Hmm. Bao hasn’t lost his touch. He took another bite of the Ga Nuong Xa lemon chicken. This dish is real low carbs, too.

Lori didn’t reply, choosing instead to move the food around her plate. It was clear that she was having another bad day. Zubek’s guess was that his wife’s day wasn’t about to get any better. He took a deep breath, and exhaled. I bumped into Kent Jackson today.

Lori finally looked up. She had always liked his former partner. How is he?

He’s good. Made Captain a little over a year ago.

Good for him.

Uhh…huh. He moved from Homicide to Special Crimes.

Oh…

Yeah. He’s got all kinds of special cases. Hate crimes, gangs…

Lori’s features hardened at the mention of the word gangs. Zubek noticed, but continued, regardless. He’s also responsible for that missing women’s case.

Where all the blonde girls have disappeared? Lori asked.

Zubek thought of Alexa, their beautiful, fair-haired, teenage daughter. "Attractive blonde women, Lori. All in their late 20’s or early 30’s. The media refer to it as the Thin Air case."

Lori grunted. So, I guess I’m safe.

Zubek’s wife was in her late thirties, with short, mousy-brown hair. He tried a compliment. Unless whoever’s behind this starts pursuing attractive brunettes.

Lori didn’t bite. Right. And…?

And the guy who’s been heading this investigation has retired.

Lori stiffened. Just what are you trying to say, Lou?

Kent wants me to interview for the job.

Lori’s eyes widened. Is he out of his fucking mind?

Zubek couldn’t meet her gaze. It’s pretty flattering, Lori.

Flattering? It’s fucking ridiculous, after what we’ve been through! She pushed away from the kitchen table.

I’m considering it.

You’re not serious!

I’m very serious. I think I want this job.

Chapter Three

The man was up early. Lately, he’d had trouble sleeping, which was common during the period just prior to one of his dates. He viewed his restlessness as an indicator – a sign that it was time to add to his collection. Later today, he would head downtown, and walk the area where he had planned to meet his next conquest. He would check the parking garage floor where she always parked, to make sure nothing had changed since his last visit. He would walk the route that she would likely walk, getting the timing down – assuming that his lover didn’t go shopping like the last time, which was rare. He would contact the art studio to ensure that there had been no program change, and that her class was still on the schedule for this Wednesday morning. He would drive to the isolated transfer point he’d selected, to prevent any surprises. He would check every last detail – like he always did – before making his move.

The man moved to his duplex apartment’s living room window, the one he’d spent hours gazing through in the last eight years. Fairmont Cemetery was in plain view, and it was as beautiful today as the day the man had first selected it. The corners of his ice blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. Then, he closed them, enjoying the many wonderful memories he would always associate with Fairmont – and contemplating the memory he was about to create. He didn’t know her name yet, but that didn’t matter. She was an artist, like him. That’s all he needed to know. Kindred spirits. Soon to be lovers. He couldn’t wait.

* * *

Like the man, Zubek had had a terrible night’s sleep. He and Lori had taken their argument from the kitchen of their modest home to the family room, and finally to the bedroom. Somewhere between the family room and bedroom arguments, Alexa had returned from her date, had barked at him and Lori - Stop fighting – before retiring to her room for the night. When Zubek finally got to sleep, it was well after 2:00 a.m. – and in the basement guest room.

Now, less than four hours later, he was standing at the kitchen counter, waiting impatiently for the coffee to brew.

From behind him, a tired voice said. So, you’re really going to do this?

Zubek turned to face his wife. She was protectively clutching her favorite robe close to her thin body. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, a clear sign that she’d spent most of the night crying. Can we talk about this calmly?

I’m not sure. She moved to the table, and pulled up a chair.

Zubek grabbed another cup from the cupboard, and poured two steaming cups of coffee. He moved to the table, plunking one of the cups down in front of Lori. Here. He sat across from her.

I just… Lori turned away, fighting the tears.

Look, I don’t even know if I can explain this, but I need to do this. I need to…

Need to what, Lou? Need to be the big man, again? What about me? What about Alexa?

This is not about you, or Alexa.

Of course not. It’s about you. It’s always about you, she said, her voice raised.

Zubek sighed. It was clear the conversation was now heading to the same place it ended early this morning. Can I possibly finish what I was trying to say, before you interrupted me? He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the edge out of his voice.

Lori looked at him blankly. Have at it…

I need to be able to walk through the halls of the place where I work without my previous co-workers looking away when they see me. Guys I grew up with on the force who can’t even talk to me without feeling uncomfortable.

Lori stared at him for a long time before replying. "Maybe if their son was murdered in the line of his father’s duty, they’d be a little more understanding."

The words cut through him like a razor sharp knife. You had to go there, didn’t you?

Somebody had to…

Lori was on a shopping expedition with Alexa, and Zubek was playing video games with Adam when he received a phone call from Bao Phan. The Vietnamese community was ecstatic over the break-up of the Xiang Liu gang, and wanted to honor Zubek later that day at an impromptu gathering at Bao’s restaurant.

Zubek thanked Bao, but declined the offer, explaining that Lori and Alexa were out, and that he didn’t want to leave Adam alone.

Bao was insistent. Zubek, bring your boy with you. He deserves to see the joy his father has brought back to our community. He needs to know you are a hero.

The Zubeks had three rules when it came to their children.

Keep the kids as far away from Dad’s job as possible.

Don’t expose them to the seamy side of life Dad experienced on a daily basis.

Protect them from all evil.

Zubek forgot all of them, could only picture how proud Adam would be to see his father recognized for his work. I’m honored, Bao, and I’m sure Adam will enjoy the experience. We’ll see you around noon.

They never made it to the restaurant. Less than a mile from their home, while stopped at a red light, a car pulled up beside Zubek’s. He looks at its occupants, recognized one of them as an affiliate of the fallen Xiang Liu gang, and immediately knew what was going down. As the passengers in the other car opened fire, Zubek ducked, screamed for Adam to do the same, pounded on the accelerator.

His car shot through the intersection, leaving his assailants behind. When he knew the immediate danger had passed, he looked at his son who had slumped down in the seat beside him. Adam wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. The back half of his head had exploded, and Zubek realized for the first time that he and the inside of the vehicle were covered in blood…and brain matter. He screamed and reached for his son. Then, his world went dark.

It would stay dark for a long time.

Zubek stared at the table, his strong hands wrapped around the coffee cup. Lori, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about Adam. I see signs of him in Alexa every time I look at her. I see his eyes every time I look at you. I’ll never forget him, or what he meant to me. But, it’s been over four years. I need to let go. To move on. I can’t live the rest of my life like this.

Lori’s eyes burned into him. You do whatever the fuck you want. But, I’ll never let go. Never…

Chapter Four

Zubek got the job.

He had contacted Captain Jackson shortly after the early-morning argument with Lori, and had declared his interest in the position. The following week he had appeared in front of the department’s hiring committee. Zubek had been nervous, but once he got past the initial butterflies stage, the interview went well. A second interview had followed, and this time Zubek had been more relaxed, and very focused. Jackson later told him that he came across like the Zubek of old, and that he had nailed the interview.

The only stumbling block in the hiring process was the requirement to have a department psychiatrist sign off on Zubek’s suitability for a return to field duty. Luckily, the psychiatrist assigned as advisor to the hiring team was the woman who had counseled Zubek after his breakdown following Adam’s death. She gave him a clean bill of health, and fully endorsed his appointment as Ivan’s replacement.

Zubek had kept Lori in the dark throughout the lengthy interview process, and only advised her once he knew that he had the job. That had occurred last night, and another heated discussion had ensued with the same predictable result. Zubek had spent another restless night in the basement guest room.

Six short hours after his argument with Lori, Zubek arrived at the Bryant Street station that housed the Special Crimes Division. He knew the station layout well, having worked there for over seven years while in Homicide. Zubek went directly to the tiny kitchen, grabbed a coffee, picked up a new notepad from the administrative supplies center, then made his way to the war room that served as the department’s headquarters for all things related to the Project Phoenix - Thin Air - investigation.

When word got out that Zubek had been selected to replace Ivan, there had been lots of negative reaction within the department. The prevailing view was that Zubek was an okay guy, but he’d been out of the game for too long. Despite his personal loss, he didn’t deserve this high-profile job, and that he wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure of the new assignment. The harshest reaction had come from Rick Cummings, a detective who had been part of the Thin Air task force since its inception, and who had served as Ivan’s right hand. Cummings fully expected to replace Ivan, and was considered by most – including the retiring detective – to be a shoe-in for the job. When that didn’t happen, and Zubek was appointed, Cummings had stormed into the Captain’s office and demanded another assignment, claiming he couldn’t work with a guy who’d suffered a nervous breakdown – regardless of what had caused it.

Captain Jackson had readily complied with Cummings’ request. He told Zubek what had happened, and that he needed to appoint a replacement for Cummings as soon as possible. Zubek had never been a fan of Cummings, so he was pleased to learn that the detective had jumped ship. He didn’t hesitate in selecting Cummings replacement – Min Park - a move that had more heads shaking throughout the SFPD. The chatter was that promoting a computer analyst who specialized in cold cases to such a prominent detective position was further proof that Zubek was out of touch.

Min was sitting in the war room when Zubek arrived. She was an incredibly hard worker who was known for putting in long hours. Min was one of the few field officers who had kept in touch with him during the last few years, and Zubek had a great deal of respect for her. He also had a hunch that her unique skills could be a differentiator in solving this case.

Good morning.

Min nodded, her mouth full of bran muffin. She washed it down with coffee as she glanced at the clock. You’re in early.

New job. I figured I’d get a head-start on all the keeners.

Min smiled, got up from the boardroom table, and moved to Zubek. She hugged him warmly. Me, too. Congratulations, Zoo, I’m really pleased for you.

"Thanks. And I’m pleased that you were open to accepting this assignment.’

I’m so glad you asked for me. She ran a hand across her forehead. I was up to here with cold case analysis.

I’m not surprised. Zubek looked around the room, noting several PC’s, printers and numerous files lining one side of the large war room conference table. He gestured toward the back wall and the 13 photos that were taped to it. What do you think?

I’ve reviewed the files on each off the missing women, and so far, I’m as baffled as everybody else.

Zubek moved closer to the table, picked up a file, and fanned its contents. We have a lot of work ahead of us.

There was a tap on the door, and Zubek and Min looked up to see Ivan entering. The new dream team.

Zubek knew Ivan from the years he’d spent in Homicide, but they had never actually worked together. He also knew from the Captain that Ivan had been less then thrilled to learn who was replacing him. Zubek stood and extended his hand. "Ivan, it’s been a