Rachel is heading towards the school when her phone rings. Looking down, she sees the call is from Bonnie. Something's happened to dad. She pulls to the side of the road.

"Hello, Bonnie, is everything alright? I'm heading there now. So you don't want me to pick up the girls? I'll see you at the apartment." Smiling, she hangs up her phone. I can do what I'd planned after all.

***

Jerry has been trying to open his desk drawer for the last ten minutes. Damn thing is probably older than my Great Grandma. He gives it a hard tug. It opens with such force items scatter across the room.

"Just wonderful." 

"That's one way to clean house," the captain laughs.

"The damn drawer got stuck again. Are you sure there isn't another desk, I could use?" Jerry throws stuff inside the container.

"Sorry, Jerry, but all the desks are taken. Look at it this way, you and the furniture have something in common." The Captain smiles.

Jerry knows from experience that he had a wisecrack brewing, so he tries to beat him to the punch. "We're both ancient?"

"No, you're both banged up, and out of shape," he chuckles.

"You're a laugh a minute, Sir."

"This is the real reason I'm here," he says, showing Jerry a piece of paper. "Forensics found hair, tissue, and trace amounts of blood on the barbells."

"Please tell me they found a match."

"Now, that would make the case too easy, wouldn't it?"

"It'd be nice to have an easy case once in a while." He tosses the last of his stuff in the drawer.

"No such luck with this one, I'm afraid."

"Did the lab find any fingerprints on the barbells, or in the house?"

The captain glances at the paper. "Just the family's. The pools of blood are from Max too."

"No witnesses, no leads, we're at a dead end."

"Start searching his relationships, see what you can find."

"Yes, Sir."

The captain starts to walk away when another thought occurs to him. "Oh, and Jerry, look into his case files, see who he's convicted lately."

"I'll get right on that." He's typing Max's name into the computer when his phone rings.

"Police Department, Jerry speaking." Putting the phone on speaker, he continues typing.

"I believe I might have something, Jerry. Rachel's cousin Emma Stone lived at Jennie's, from the age of four until the girls were taken away. So I need you to locate Emma."

"I'll see what I can find, Boss."

***

Rachel is standing under her shower scouring layers of grime off her pale, thin body. A terrible aroma drifts through the air, making her stomach churn with fury. She knows all of this unpleasantness will be worth it in the end.

With everything I've accomplished today my project will be complete in no time. I can only imagine the look on their faces when they find out what I've done. Smiling, she steps onto the cold tile. Glancing down, she notices the stained clothes lying by her feet. I need to figure out how I can get rid of them where they can't be traced to me. I know, I'll put them in a trash bag and throw them in the hospital dumpster. Grabbing the soiled wardrobe by her fingertips, she heads towards the door. Hearing keys rattling in the hall, she runs back to the bathroom. Where am I going to hide these? She notices the small linen closet beside her when she anxiously looks around. That'll work for now. Placing her dirty garments in the far corner, she grabs clothes from her hamper and throws them on top. They'll never find them now. She starts to get dressed when her neighbor's door squeaks open. Guess that wasn't Bonnie after all. She glances at the closet. I'll leave the clothes be, for now.

***

Joe is heading towards the station when the dispatcher's voice blares across his radio. There's another murder already? He makes a quick U-turn, creating an explosion of dust. I need to roll up my window before I pull another stunt like that. Coughing, he watches a massive layer of dust fall across the car's frayed interior. Wiping the dirt from his phone, he calls the station.

"Jerry, this is Joe, I just heard about the murder on Murphy road." Joe coughs into his phone. Putting it on speaker, he grabs the bottle of water and takes a quick swig.

"Are you alright, Boss?"

"I will be, once this dust settles." Joe gulps more water.

"Dust, Sir?"

"You don't want to know."

Jerry recalls how frightened he was the last time he rode with Joe. "I probably don't." Chuckling, he continues, "I'll meet you there." Grabbing his jacket off the chair, Jerry heads towards the door.

***

She carefully scans her to do list. She didn't want to go to her next attack unprepared, the way she did with Max.

That senseless mistake almost turned deadly. I'm not willing to pay that high price, not yet anyhow. There are still too many perverts out roaming the streets. Deviants I swore I'd kill as a child. Making a mental list, she slides the paper into her purse.

"My fun is just getting started." Laughing, she pulls onto the highway.

***

The forensic team is carrying out their assigned tasks when Joe arrives on scene. Now that's what I like to see. Smiling, he walks towards his team.

"Hi, Sergeant," Kirk says. Kirk has been with the team for nearly ten years. His meticulous manner makes him one of the most sought-after technicians on the force.

"What do you have for me?" Joe asks, shaking the young officer's hand.

"The victim is Frank Walsh. The apparent cause of death is thirty-three stab wounds to his chest. Mr. Crandall said he found him lying alongside his truck."

"What's the approximate time of death?"

"Riga mortis hasn't set in, so I'd say it happened within the last three hours." He follows the sergeant through the crime scene.

Joe squats down by the blood splatter.

"We've already taken samples," he says, stepping around the pool of dark liquid surrounding the victim.

Joe notices tire marks in the dirt.

"There's fresh oil over here." Kurt points to the middle of the lot.

"Our killer must've been waiting a while. I want you to photograph, then cast the tire tracks and take a sample of oil too." Joe instructs, continuing to walk through the scene.

"We have, we photographed and cast the footprints too."

"Did you find anything else?"

"No, Sir, but we're still looking."

"So tell me about the victim?" Stopping, he turns towards Kirk.

"He's married, has three grown daughters, works second shift at Tysons." 

"Do you know who he hangs out with, his habits?"

"Patrol said they've only spotted his truck at work, home, and the bar."

"Are there any witnesses?"

"Just the poor fellow who found him." Kirk points to a shaken man standing in front of his car.

"Let's go see what he has to say."

***

Jerry hears the captain call his name as he heads towards the door. Turning, he sees his boss rushing towards him.

"The search on Emma Stone came back."

"Does it have anything useful?"

"According to this, she lived with her Aunt and Uncle until her kidnapping and her Uncle's murder four years ago."

"Kidnapping and murder," the detective exclaims.

"Yes, the killer stabbed her Uncle thirty-three times and then kidnapped Emma."

"Did the cops ever catch the culprit?"

"No, and Emma's body was never found."

"Are there any witnesses or leads?"

The captain glances down at the paper. "There are leads, but no witnesses."

"Where was the Aunt when this was going on?"

"According to the police report, she was visiting a sick relative in Virginia. Here, take a look for yourself." The captain hands him the file.

"How many wounds did Max have, Captain?"

"Thirty-three, I believe."

"Both victims being stabbed the same amount of times can't be a coincidence." Plopping down at his desk, he runs his fingers through his thinning hair. Something he often does when he's in deep thought. "I'm going to send a request for the entire file, see if I can find a connection."

"I'll make a few calls, try to speed up the process." The captain rushes to his office.

Jerry is scanning the report when his phone rings.

"Jerry, this is Joe, I need a little history on our new victim."

"Who is it, Boss?" He grabs a pen and paper off his cluttered desk.

"It's Frank Walsh; someone stabbed him a few hours ago, on Murphy Road. I want you to find out everything you can about him."

"Did the ME say how many times he was stabbed?"

"She counted thirty-three wounds, why?"

"Max and Emma's Uncle was stabbed thirty-three times too."

"Someone killed Emma's Uncle?"

"Four years ago and kidnapped the girl. I think there might be a connection, so I'm having the file faxed to us now."

"Keep me posted."

"I will."

Trading his cell phone for his computer, the detective gets to work.

***

The killer sees her next victim walking to his car when she pulls into the parking lot. That's what you call perfect timing. Smiling, she pulls in beside him.

"Hey, Lenny, whatcha doing?" she asks, walking towards him.

He suddenly recalls how their last conversation turned violent. She would've killed me if it hadn't been for my friend. "What do you want?" he stammers, nervously backing away.

"I stopped by to say hi, see what you've been up to lately."

She's going to finish me off. "I'm warning you, you better leave me alone." He backs up, running into the wall. 

She steps closer, pinning him against the barrier. "Can't go anywhere, can you?"

"N .... no." He anxiously glances around.

"How does it feel to be a helpless victim, huh? Tell me, how does this feel?" she screams, pressing her body against him.

"N .... not good."

"This is how I felt every night you snuck into my room."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I bet you're sorry. My life is ruined, all because of you." Grabbing a knife out of her pocket, she holds it against his neck, blood trickles onto the blade.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he weakly replies, tears streaming down his face.

"Well, you did." She pushes the knife in deeper. "I want you to remember this the next time you think about raping a little girl."

"I will."

"I know you will." Shoving the blade into his neck, she pulls it across. Blood spews out of his body as she cuts into his flesh.