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out which one,” Kevin muttered as he reached for his office phone. He dialed Taggart. As he waited for the detective to answer, Kevin couldn’t help but wonder where Elle was right now. Had she heeded his advice and stayed home or was she at the shelter, putting her nose in where it didn’t belong? “Taggart, I’ve got something. Are you at the station?”

Chapter Four

    “W hat are you doing here at this time of the morning?”
    Elle looked up from taking her coat off to see Cam Bennett stepping into the kitchen of the shelter at Reformation. Coffee and what smelled like cinnamon rolls saturated the air. A few pans and dishes sat in the sink. The kitchen table was a little cluttered with hand towels that had yet to be folded and sections of the newspaper were scattered about, looking to have been well read. It was unlike Cam to leave the kitchen in such disarray, as he was meticulous in making sure that everyone pulled their own weight.
    Cam was no taller than she and had short, red, perfectly styled hair with a close-cropped full beard. He wasn’t what anyone would call handsome, yet his immaculate appearance and perfect smile carried the day for him. He had a heart of pure twenty-four karat gold, which made every woman who crossed the doors of this shelter feel quite comfortable. It was as if he was their long lost older brother who only wanted to protect them. It might have to do with the fact that he was a way over the top overt homosexual, but in the end these women didn’t feel judged by Cam. In return, they didn’t feel the need to judge him or question his motives. They felt safe here.
    “Morning, Cam,” Elle replied, removing her scarf and laying it on one of the kitchen chairs. She then proceeded to drape her jacket over the back. “I just wanted to check on the girls. Did you hear about the murder this morning?”
    “Rachel showed up here a few hours ago with the news. It’s horrible. I gave her the back room for as long as she needs it.” Anguish and concern crossed Cam’s features as he turned to the counter and made himself busy by pouring her a cup of coffee. One of Cam’s many talents was remembering exactly how every single woman whom had ever passed through his door had taken their coffee. Only his regulars knew these little secrets. “Maybe this will scare her enough to return home.”
    “Did Rachel know the girl that was killed?” Elle asked, taking the proffered drink. Lord knew she needed it to keep herself going.
    “Apparently. The girl’s name was Francie and she was strangled in the same way that Daisy was.” Cam pulled out a chair but didn’t sit, motioning for her to find a perch as he indulged his OCD cleaning fetish, picking up this and that. “Rachel went to the scene with Clarisse when word got out there was another murder.”
    “Who was she?”
    Elle sank in the chair diagonally from Cam’s unused seat and pushed away the feeling of satisfaction that she was finding out information that Kevin hadn’t known. It wasn’t the time nor did the situation call for it and sometimes Elle had to wonder if she hadn’t lost all compassion.
    “A new girl that wanted in on the action, I guess.” Cam reached for one of the hand towels and started to fold it. It was such a mundane task, but it seemed to balance the horror of the conversation. Sometimes normalcy was all they had. “After some detective gave them a description, Rachel knew who it was. She and Clarisse admitted that they’d only seen her once. Apparently, Bee tried to get Francie to work for him, but she wouldn’t go for it. He went on to explain who owned what part of town and that was the last they saw of her.”
    “What about Larry? Did she end up working for him?” Elle was well aware that Bee ran the south side of Minneapolis and Larry the Limey kept to the north, as well as having territory in St. Paul. The girls’ paths would sometimes cross, but the lines were clearly marked to make sure there