Bernie came back to only the home he knew before his incarceration. His father had long since passed away, but his mother still stayed at the mansion. When Bernie appeared at the front door, Mrs. King greeted him with open arms. While she had missed her son, she did not have much contact in prison with him until after her husband died. She missed her husband and realized that Bernie was that connection to her past. She welcomed any opportunity that brought back memories of her youth.

Truth be told, she was quite influential during his parole board hearing. Very little publicity occurred around the hearing. She had managed to hire the best psychiatrists money could buy to render the opinion that Bernie had reformed. He had been sentenced to life, but became eligible for parole after twenty years.

The carriage house remained the same as when he left. He settled in quickly, but in no time he was itching to get back out roaming the neighborhood. But, so much had changed in the last two decades. He was barely recognizable - by age and by design. He wanted no one to know that he was there. If the surviving neighbors knew of his return, it would not go well for him. For all anyone knew, he was just a new resident in the neighborhood.

Bernie walked down by the Nelson house. He found a park bench nearby and brought with him a paper to read. He decided he would make a note of Mrs. Nelson's schedule. He saw her when Bobby became frightened. She was pretty, petite and blonde. His sick desires were rekindled.

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Two weeks later

Steve pulled to the curb of Connie's parents' home. He was on time to pick her up for a dinner date. After their brief encounter near the courthouse, he simply could not get her out of his mind. Perhaps Mike was right: perhaps he was having second thoughts about the break up.

Steve rang the door and looked around, a nervous, but appropriate habit for a cop. Pacific Heights is such a nice neighborhood, he thought to himself. As he looked around, he saw the beautifully maintained homes and nicely sculpted lawns. He looked down the street and saw joggers and people walking their dogs. Not far away, a man on a bench read a newspaper.

As Steve waited, he remembered why he broke it off with Connie several months earlier. She was afraid his work would cause him to lose touch with his humanity. She feared that he would not be able to understand that good people do bad things. Sometimes crime was the effect that a different problem caused. And while her whole line of reasoning was a concern for him, it wasn't the real reason they split.

The reality was that he couldn't afford the lifestyle to which Connie was accustomed. Her family, in their brief meetings, were only too quick to point that out. He had no wealth and no prominent bloodline. There was nothing material for him to offer. And while he knew that shouldn't matter, he knew that it did. Perhaps not so much with Connie, but certainly it mattered to her family.

After a few more minutes, Connie's father answered the door. "Officer Keller, yes, please come on in," he said politely. "Connie will be down in a moment."

"Thank you, Sir," Steve replied.

"I was surprised to hear that Connie had a date with you this evening. After all, she had mentioned that you two had broken off."

"Yes, sir. Connie and I saw each other in passing the other day and decided it would be nice to have dinner. We hadn't talked in some time."

"I see. Well, where are you taking my daughter? I would imagine on a cop's salary, that you won't be dining on lobster at Chez Paris," the older man chuckled.

"No, sir. But there's a nice place over in Sausalito that just opened up. Italian." Steve wanted to add, Cops can afford spaghetti and money apparently doesn't buy common courtesy.

At that point, Connie came down the steps, looking lovely in a new spring dress. One look and she took his breath away. He noticed that the light color brought out the blue in her eyes. Steve smiled and looked down.

"We'll be on our way, Professor Mathers."

"Get her home at a decent hour. Connie will be accompanying Mrs. Mathers and me to the club for a charity event first thing in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

As they walked to Steve's Porsche, the man on the bench had decided to walk down the block. As he passed Steve and Connie on the opposite side of the street, he noticed the pretty blonde on the arm of the handsome young man.

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As Bernie circled the block, he saw Mrs. Nelson and Bobby parking in their driveway. He continued until he found a vantage point that would allow him to view what Mrs. Nelson was doing. Bobby ran into the yard and started playing with his kickball. The mother unloaded groceries and took them into the house. There was no sign of the husband - he would not be home for one or two hours.

King looked around to see if there was anyone in the street. Not seeing a soul, he walked around the side of the house and found a window slightly ajar. He thought for a moment before he entered. He wanted to stop himself, but he couldn't Instead, he checked to see that he had a knife, rope and cloth for a gag. He also had his gloves which would hide the fingerprints.

His M.O. last time was slashing and dumping the body in an industrial trash liner. He knew that if he were to do that again, his house would be the first the police would check. He reasoned that if make the crime look different, the police would not suspect him - or at least he could plea that while someone else was killing to make him look suspicious, it was not being done the way he had done it in the past.

Mrs. Nelson walked down the hallway toward the bathroom. She heard a creaking noise from the spare bedroom.

"Bobby, I told you not to play in here," she said as she walked in.

The door shut behind her. "Mrs. Nelson, Bobby will be fine. I promise I won't hurt him."

She spun around in terror and tried to scream but he grabbed her quickly and threw her on the floor. At that point he stuffed the gag in her mouth. All she could feel were his hands around her neck as he choked the life out of her. Her last thoughts were of Bobby.