Commotion continues all around them as Joe and Jerry try to come up with a new lead. With no evidence and questionable motives, the case is going nowhere fast.

Joe pops the lid from his Tylenol bottle and pours a few pills into his hand. Hearing all the racket, he shakes out a couple more.

"Have a headache, Boss?"

Joe swallows his pills. "I woke up with it." He glances at his cup. "This crap probably isn't helping any."

Jerry chuckles. "And you thought army coffee was bad."

Joe glances down at the row of papers lined across his desk. We're never going to solve this thing. He rubs his aching head.

Jerry watches his distraught partner agonize over the reports. Hopefully, my idea will ease his tension. "I think I have something, Boss."

"What's that?"

"Do you remember me telling you that Frank and Max were Jeanie's lovers?"

"Yeah." Joe continues to rub his temples.

"Well, Lenny and Bernie were too. So I'm thinking our killer is getting justice for Jennie's death instead of getting revenge."

"Why would he wait 14 years to do it, Jerr?"

"Maybe he was incarcerated until now or maybe something happened that sent him over the edge."

"That's possible."

"I'm looking up recent releases and comparing them to people Jeanie knew."

"I'll talk to Bernie's wife and see if she can tell us something." He sees their Captain walking towards him when he stands up.

"Hey guys, Max is awake, and a woman wants to see you. She says she might know something that'll help us with Max's stabbing." He hands Joe her report, then waves a woman over.

Joe watches a young lady dressed in scrubs walk to his desk. She has long chestnut hair that's drawn into a bun, fastened at the nape of her neck. Her makeup is applied sparingly enhancing her natural beauty. Joe then notices her wrinkle-free uniform and her freshly polished shoes.

"Please, have a seat," Joe says, scanning her report.

Melinda fidgets with her purse as Joe continues to read. She wasn't sure if what she's doing is against HIPAA laws that healthcare professionals are strictly adhered to. This has nothing to do with his health. Besides, anyone could've heard him, she reasons, trying to relax.

"Max woke up last night screaming, please stop Rachel, don't hurt me?"

 She nervously scoots to the edge of her seat then glances towards the door. No one will know it was me. "That's what he said. When I asked him about it, he said he didn't remember."

"How did he act afterward?" Jerry questions.

She turns towards the detective. "He was panicked at first. He wanted to know who I am, where he was and what happened to him."

"What happened after you told him?" Jerry asks.

 "He went right back to sleep."

Jerry scratches his head. "Why would Rachel want to harm him, Joe?"

"Who is Rachel?" Melinda questions. She glances between the two detectives.

"Thanks for helping us." Standing up, Joe walks towards her. "Call us if you think of anything else, no matter how meager it may seem." He hands her his card as he ushers her towards the door.

She looks at Joe and then Jerry. There may be more to this Rachel thing than I thought. "I will."

Jerry waits until she's out of earshot before sharing his thought. "Maybe Rachel asked for something, and he refused to give it to her, Boss?"

Joe recalls how they seemed to have a special bond all the times he saw them together. He then remembers how heartbroken she was when she ran over a raccoon. "I just don't see her as our killer, especially not her father. Besides, she isn't strong enough to inflict thirty-three wounds, is she?"

"She might be, Boss," Jerry says.

"Keep working on your new theory, I'll talk to Max and Pam. He grabs his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Detectives, I have some information on the tire impressions," Kirk says, walking towards them.

"Whatcha got?" Joe asks, taking a report from his hand.

"I ran their pattern through Tread mate and discovered that the brand name is Integrity, manufactured by Good Year. Wal-Mart and Worley are the only two shops that sell this brand of tire in town. So I'm having my assistant call them now."

"Good work, Kirk," Joe says, patting him on the back.

"Thank you, Sir." He smiles.

***

The killer is lying on the cold dusty floor, her legs pinned by her attacker. Using her arms, she scoots towards the door.

"You're not going anywhere," he says, jerking her back.

She rises up on her elbow and glares into his eyes. "I'm not going out like this." With all the strength she can muster, she raises her leg and kicks him with the heel of her boot. His head flies backward; blood splatters across the room.

Scrambling to her feet, she darts into the hall. His footsteps thud behind her.

"You'll pay for this, Rachel. God help me, you will." He wipes the blood from his nose. "I'll hunt you down and kill you. I swear I will!" He screams.

The cold wind whips her face when she throws the wooden door open. Wrapping her coat around herself, she tears out of the building; into a lurid man's arms. "Let go of me," she yells, struggling to break free.

Not wanting any part of what's going on, Lou lets her go.

She sidesteps around his vile body.

"Stop that bitch, Lou," Jimmy orders. He grabs the door casing for support.

Lou sees his battered friend standing at the entrance. His once white t-shirt is shredded and covered in blood. He has slash marks on his hands and across his tatted face.

"What happened to you?" Lou gasps.

"That damn wild woman, that's what," he yells, storming back inside.

***

She locks her car doors then searches for her keys. They have to be here somewhere. She checks her pockets again. I must've dropped them somewhere. She looks behind her but doesn't see them lying on the road. What if I lost them at the house? She glances in that direction.

The sky darkens, as heavy rain clouds cover the late morning sun.

"I would have to be stuck in horror land in the middle of a storm." She slams her hands against the steering wheel. "Now what am I going to do?" Remembering her spare key, she runs to the back of her car. She's searching for a small container when a deep voice asks:

"Are you looking for something?"

 Worried about his intentions, she places the key between her fingers, pointy side out. "I was looking for my spare key." She looks up to see a tall, handsome man standing over her.

"Here, let me help you," he offers, squatting next to her.

"I've already found it, but thanks." Standing up, she nervously backs away.

"I'm glad because I wouldn't want to see a sweet thing like you out in this storm." He reaches towards her. She moves away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, sweetheart." He strums his finger down the side of her face.

His soft tone, gentle touch, and luring cologne intoxicate her as she gazes into his eyes. Jerad made me feel this way.

He strokes her face then moves his finger across her delicate lips. The way Jerad, her lost love used to do.

 Her heart pounds wildly, lovestruck by this mysterious man. Is he my second chance at love?

"It's always a pleasure to kiss a woman lovely as you." He leans towards her, touching her lips to his. A lightning bolt brightens the sky. He hesitantly pulls away.

"You better get home before it pours." Wrapping his arm around her, he guides her to the car.

She gazes longingly into his eyes as he opens the door.

Leaning over, he kisses her again. "I hope I'll see you again." He grins.

His beautiful smile and baby blues melt her hardened heart. 

"You take care, now," he replies.

She lustfully gazes at the alluring man as he closes the Neon's door. If only .... she dreamily drives away.

***

Joe sees Pam in the yard when he pulls into her drive. "Hi, Pam."

"I know you probably think it's strange for me to be working in the garden so soon after his death but I feel closer to him when I'm out here." Wiping tears from her cheek, she continues, "I miss him so much." 

"I'm sure you do."

"We've been together for over twenty years. He was my childhood sweetheart, my one, and only love."

How could anyone love someone that beats them? "I'd like to ask you a few questions about Bernie."

"I'll help you any way I can." She sniffles.

Joe takes out his pen and paper. "Does Bernie have any enemies, someone who's mad at him?"

"No, Bernie gets along with everyone."

"Did he make someone mad at work?"

"He didn't mention it to me." She blows her nose.

Joe hesitantly moves to the next question. "I hate to ask, but it's routine, so please don't get mad," he says, hoping he won't upset her, the way he did Judy.

"I watch a lot of detective shows so I know what you're going to ask." Smiling weakly, she continues, "I babysit my grandkids on Friday nights. It gives their mom and dad alone time. Besides, I love having kids in the house. It's too quiet just Bernie and ...." She cries harder.

"It might do you some good to be with your family now."

"I think you're right." She sniffles. "Joe, I'm not mad at you. I know you're only doing your job."

"Thank you for the help. Pam, please go be with your family."

"I will," she replies, walking towards her house.

***

Rachel rushes home to change. I want to look halfway presentable when I visit dad. Choosing a nice outfit from her closet, she runs to the shower.

A hot bath will feel terrific after everything I've been through today. Taking off her stained clothes, she hides them with the others.

I have to get rid of these soon, she thinks, surveying the growing stack.