Chapter Thirty-Eight

"There he is," Tori said, motioning down an alley where John emerged, hand held above his face as if squinting from the sunlight. "About damn time."

"Wait a minute. Dark hair." Sikes reached in the back and pulled out the folder with Tucker's spreadsheet. Inside was a shot of John from their interrogation. He held it up. "Blond. What did O'Connor say about the hair color?"

"Maria, the lady at the shelter, said John had dark hair the last time she saw him, but he didn't act like John." Tori drove slowly, keeping him within sight. "O'Connor's thinking Patrick has dark hair." She glanced at Sikes. "You want to pull him in?"

"Christ, Hunter. On what charge? We don't even know what Patrick looks like. This guy," he said, pointing, "looks like John with dark hair. So you pull John in again and you get his attorney, Robert, breathing down your neck, then we're in the paper for harassing the homeless. No. I don't want to pull him in."

"We should call O'Connor. They've spent the most time with the guy. They'd know if this was him or not."

"They haven't slept in how many days now? No. Let's just follow him. That was the plan."

"I got a bad feeling, Sikes."

"Turn up here," he said.

"Can you still see him?"

"Yeah. I'm guessing he's heading to the shelter for breakfast."

"Okay, good. At least we'll have a fix on his location."

Tori turned, intending to meet up with him on the next block, past the clubs, when Sikes squeezed her shoulder hard.

"What?"

"There's a John in a dress too. My God, they look just alike."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She sped to the curb, jerking the binoculars out of his hand. "Jesus Christ," she muttered. "They look identical." She lowered the glasses. "Mac said they can't be identical. He said if their DNA is not identical, they're not identical twins."

"Maybe just from this distance they look alike. Up close, maybe not."

"Call for patrol units to back us up, then let Malone know. I'm going to wake up O'Connor. Who the hell knows which is which?"

"You think they'll know?"

"If not, we haul them both in and let the DA deal with a judge in getting DNA." She pulled her phone out and continued driving, hoping the two Johns would materialize at the opposite end of the alley.

"Oh, God no," Casey mumbled, fumbling for her phone, eyes still closed. I'll kill her. "This better be good, Hunter."

"We got them spotted."

Casey opened her eyes. " Both of them?"

"Yeah. They just cut through an alley behind the Rat Club. We think they're heading to the shelter. One of them is in a dress."

Casey sat up, ignoring the sheet that slipped to her waist. "Maria said she'd never seen them together. And she'd never seen either of them in a dress. Maybe assuming they're going to the shelter is too hopeful." She nudged Leslie with her leg, smiling at the groan she received in response. "You want us to come?"

"Yeah, I need you here. We can't tell them apart. Maybe you two can. Regardless of what Mac said, they look identical to me. And they both have dark hair."

Casey tilted her head. "John's got blue eyes. Blond hair, blue eyes."

"Okay, so you're assuming Patrick is naturally dark with brown eyes? Is that how we'll tell them apart?"

"I'm not assuming anything. I just know John is blond and blue." She stood, bending to pick up the jeans she'd discarded such a short time ago. "They could both be naturally blond and blue and Patrick just colored his dark for some reason. Or colored both of them."

"Okay. Head to the shelter. I'll call you back if it looks like they're not heading that way."

"We still have the radio, don't forget. Quicker."

"Yeah. With more ears. But keep it with you."

Casey struggled into her jeans with the phone tucked against her shoulder. "We're on our way." She sat on the edge of the bed, gently shaking Leslie. "Come on. We have to go."

"You're kidding, right?" Leslie asked, her face still burrowed into the pillow.

"Sorry, sweetheart. But they have Patrick spotted."

Leslie rolled her head, her eyes blinking. "For real?"

"They saw John and Patrick together. Both with dark hair."

Leslie sat up, shaking her head. "John has--"

"Blond hair, I know. They don't know who is who. I'm sure we can pick John out though." She got up, collecting her clothes from the floor. "I wish we had time for a shower, but we don't."

"We look like hell."

Casey laughed. "I'll be nice and say you're as beautiful as ever."

Leslie tossed the covers off and stood. "And you'd be lying."

Casey stared as Leslie walked naked to the bathroom. "Not lying, no."

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