Running my fingers through my long, stringy brown hair I looked up and down the street. It was as deserted as it had been an hour ago when I spent the...five dollars the trucker had given me on a meal. I had no idea where I was, or how long I had been traveling. It seemed like forever to me. Forcing my hand back into my pocket and lowering my head against the cold wind, I almost missed the headlights come up behind me. Praying and hoping, I held out my thumb. At first it seemed like the semi was. The problem was nothing had happened in this case in nearly two weeks. There was no new information, leads, no tips, and thankfully, no new bodies. He had knocked on a thousand doors, literally, to no avail. There was no one talking, it was as if the killer just decided to beam down to earth one day and start rampaging throughout the Houston area, unnoticed. The news media wasn’t letting him rest either. Ever since the death of the judge’s daughter, Ms. Chandler, they had been like sharks. They. More

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