A Vision of Roses

            Aaron sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. His eyes burned, his head hurt and he needed to sleep. He had half- expected Elana Hart to call with an excuse to get her out of her commitment. Aaron smiled wryly. The shocked expression on her face had been almost comical. That was half the problem. His concentration at the office had been affected: memories of her reading to the children, the sound of her voice, the slope of her neck, her smile, would slip into his thoughts in the middle of reviewing a case, or discussing strategies with a co-worker.

            When he closed his eyes at night, he had haunting dreams of a woman with long, dark hair, smiling up at him, her arms open to him, love shining in her eyes. He would reach for her, only to have her pulled from his arms and dragged through a huge wall of roses. He would wake with a gnawing fear. He knew what was happening, a sort of free association between his personal and professional life.  It was beginning to look like there was a serial killer in the windy city and he’d been following the information closely.

            Four women were dead. All strangled. Two had also been stabbed.The women were different types, physically, different coloration, different socio-economic classes, and one had children.

            The similarities however, were too many to be ignored. All were attractive, unmarried, murdered in their own home, by someone they had probably known at least in passing, as there was no evidence of forced entry. There were no witnesses.