Tuesday 0914 – 1055; 9:14am -10:55 am

Case File 509865

Victims: Jane Montgrove, age 27

Paul Gambion, age 28

Sharon Raydor looked at the folder as she loaded the elevator first thing in the morning. It was just before nine in the morning and when her phone didn't ring with further follow-ups on the case, she went in. She wanted to get ahead, interview some friends and family of the victims, and get to know them better.

She rubbed her forehead, pinching her nose as she stepped off. Her son was up early, needing her to sign a slip so he could do something for school. It didn't matter that he was grown, but he was still young and it pleased her that he wanted to be safe. Her older kids wanted to be away from her. They couldn't wait to get out of the house.

There was a migraine starting to form; she hadn't had coffee and she didn't know if she could honestly stomach it. She had gotten little sleep and ate sometime around dinner. Maybe. She had a bag of chips when the father of the victim called and that was at midnight.

The victim's father, Mr. Montgrove, was a well-established Judge in LA and many people liked him. He had called when he saw his daughter's building on the news. He couldn't get a hold of her, she wasn't answering her phone and it was starting to worry him.

As a precaution they asked him to come in. They interviewed him and when certain things matched, Provenza and Tao took him down to the Morgue and had him identify the body of his daughter.

"Captain!" Tao yelled when she entered the murder room. "Ms. Montgrove was positively identified."

"And the fiancé?"

"His sister is coming in a few hours," Tao said.

Sharon nodded and slipped off her coat, draping it on the back of the chair and put her purse in the lower drawer, kicking it shut with her food.

The white board was full of facts, the beginning of a timeline and some notes underneath it. There was something they weren't seeing. She couldn't figure out what it was. There wasn't going – she shook her head and opened the files on her makeshift desk.

"Uh, Captain?" Buzz said, holding up the phone.

The team had come in slowly but surely, one at a time, as the morning progressed. Andy and Buzz had come in together, Provenza next followed by Sykes and Sanchez.

The younger detectives had been out canvassing the neighborhood one more time, trying to find someone who had heard something. Anything. They had come up with nothing. A lot of positive antidotes about how cute the couple was, how lovely they were together, and much more of the same.

Sharon had her head in a stack of files when Buzz called her. She was finishing up a note and looked up at him. He had the phone in his hand, hopefully on hold with whoever was on the other line.

"What is it Buzz?"

"We've got an Officer downstairs with a box of police equipment," he said. "What do we do with it?"

"Have them bring it up," Sharon ordered. Buzz nodded and put his phone back to his ear. "Buzz wait. Ask him if it pertains to our case."

Buzz turned away from Sharon. Provenza was giving her a look that was a mixture of inquiry and confusion.

The box was unceremoniously dropped on Sharon's desk. When she looked up it was Flynn who was standing with it. He looked tired, as they all did, but he was training and training meant no sleep. He couldn't drink, not anymore, so he couldn't force himself to sleep. It was a combination of stress, guilt, and his mind working a million miles a minute that kept him up. Buzz was on call, therefor so was he.

"Why would someone need a steal plate bullet vest?" Sharon questioned, holding up the plated vest. "This was all just dumped?"

"The shop owner found it behind his dumpster ma'am," Julio said. "There are also two AR-15 magazine pouches, two mortar tube containers, but empty and two military styled ammo cans."

"Who would need all of these things?" Sharon questioned. "And why?"

It was question no one could answer. The shop owner flagged down the first cop and they called it in. No one was missing anything; at least they hadn't heard anything.

"There were also these notebooks," Julio said, holding up the standard issue field notebooks every officer had been issued.

Neat block writing covered the front. JOHN BURKE, 56432

Another had block writing, just as neat reading: JOY WILLIAMS 53583

"Burke isn't in the system but Williams is," Julio said, continuing on. "She's one of the Field Sergeants, ma'am."

"Is she in the building?"

"On her way up," Julio confirmed.

Joy Williams was a good cop. She was one of the best trainers the LAPD had. She was on maternity leave the last few months and was back for her first day. When she left the force, to have her child, it was up in the air whether or not she'd have a job when she came back.

"Ms. Williams," Sharon started. "Joy."

"Captain," Joy said plainly. She had a history with FID. Just before she found out she was pregnant she had been censured. Sharon was her investigator. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Have you had any of your equipment stolen from you lately?" Sharon began. "We recently came across some."

"No," she said. "I mean I just got back but I have everything. I checked this morning when I came in."

"Does the name John Burke ring a bell?"

The woman stiffened. She looked from the ground to the Captain and to the Detectives who were with her.

"Burke?" she asked, as if she didn't hear her right. "What about him?"

"We found his notebook with the equipment," Sharon said.

"I haven't seen him in almost a year," Joy said. "I – he – we were doing field tests when he broke down. Yelling and screaming. Next thing I know I'm getting called into your office for a censure."

"He claimed you kicked a suspect and was using your superiority to get him into bed."

"Yes." She nodded.

Sharon wrote a note on her pad, clicked her pen, and then sat it down. This was territory that she had to tread in carefully She wasn't able to talk about the case because it was still in the system. It would be in the system for sometime, even though it was considered closed. Sharon still worked for FID, she was still leading the IA team and she – there was no way she could get involved.

They released her with an officer tailing her. They escorted her back to work and when she left to go home, they'd follow her home.

"She's in the manifesto," Andy whispered in her ear, lowly. "The one we pulled from the social media site, she's in it."

Sharon nodded and took a deep breath. "Who else?"

"You're not going to like it," he said.

Buzz had been pouring over it while Sharon talked to Williams. He highlighted the names the author had personally attacked; claiming he was coming after them. He highlighted the acts of violence that the author promised. None of it was good.

The author told everyone what to do. From the LAPD, Journalists, his friend's and family – they all had jobs to do, dictated in this manifesto. He had issues with Internal Affairs, but didn't all cops, she mused. He blamed his problems, the future and past killings that may or may not occur on the LAPD.

"Get a protection detail on everyone," Sharon ordered. "Get me Taylor, get me Pope and get me the head of SOB, now."

She spun out of her little bubble, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair and slipping it on in an impressive swoop. She was making her way to the elevators which would lead her to the top floor and from the top floor she would go to the roof to breath.

Another detail. Another series of late nights that involved full sweeps at three in the morning.

"Sharon wait," Andy said, reaching out and grabbing onto her wrist. "Hey. Talk to me for a second, will you?"

"I don't have a second Andy," she said, gasping for air. "I don't-"

The elevator bell thrilled, the doors slid open and he shoved her in. He had to get her out into the air. She was starting to panic.

Sharon Raydor, by name was in the manifesto. Her husband represented Burke. Or were friends with Burke. She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember whether or not Jack brought up this man's name or if she was getting caught up in the sudden hysteria her mind created for her. Either way she couldn't remember.

Andy took her out through the lobby of the PAB. He took her down and around the corner where there was construction. The sound of construction, he knew would over power whatever it was that was going through her head.

He cupped her face, his fingers brushing her cheek. He forced the hair away from her face as she struggled to breath. This was so unlike her. She was normally put together. This panic that she has is a rarity.

"Sharon you got to look at me," Andy pleaded. "Look at me."

Wide eyes met his. They were beginning to water. Her chest wasn't heaving, which meant she was starting to breath better. He gave her a small smile as he loosened his grip on her arm. She took a shuttered breath and swallowed hard.

"This can't be happening again," she said carefully. "I can't have more officers at my door."

"This is for your safety," he said. "The same way it was the last time."

She adopted her third son. That was common knowledge. The kid was a witness in a murder investigation, needed a roof and she offered hers. It was her decision, not her husbands to adopt the kid, which was why it wasn't all over the press. It was quietly done with no pomp and circumstance. One day she had two kids and the next she had three.

Due to her third son being a witness, it meant people knew about him, knew of him, knew he saw things he shouldn't have seen. One night, her son had received an anonymous letter; they thought nothing of it. It wasn't threatening, until the second one came, and then the third, fourth and fifth. It was months before Sharon felt comfortable again; her son had a protective detail on him twenty four-seven. Armed guards stood outside her apartment when they were in for the night.

She lamented frequently about how much she hated it. How much they just wanted to find the guy and put a stop to it. The letters stopped when a body wrapped up in plastic showed up, practically at LAPD's front door. The case is considered unsolved.

"He's not going to like it." Sharon pointed out. "He's going to want to run."

"If he does, he'll have his detail," Andy pointed out. It made her laugh. It was a start.

A man, dressed in plain clothes, was standing in front of the building with his thumbs tucked into the belt loops of his pockets. Sharon stumbled, Andy catching her with a firm press of his hand to her lower back. Then a flash of recognition crossed her eyes and she let out the breath she was holding.

"You pulled the short straw?" Sharon questioned, stepping up to the officer.

"I pulled the only straw, ma'am," the man said, nodding to her. "Lieutenant."

"Cooper," Andy said, taking the door from Sharon's new bodyguard.

Cooper was familiar with the Raydor family. He had spent many hours hanging out with the family when the opportunity arose. The kid's birthday, a night out into the city, whatever and wherever the kid went, Cooper did too.

It was going to be the same now with the Captain. He wasn't going to be able to leave her alone. Not when a mandatory security detail had been configured in record time.

"You have the Deputy Chief in your office," Provenza said, pointing to the room with the windows.

She hadn't declared that her office. She wasn't comfortable with it. It wasn't going to be hers because once this, whatever it was, died down, she'd go back to her floor.

"I'll be out here," Cooper mentioned, taking a seat in her chair.

Sharon nodded and gave Andy a look. She wouldn't deny that she was scared. She was terrified. Someone, per the manifesto, would be always watching her, that there would be no safety. Not for her, not for her family – never.

It would be a logistical nightmare to get all three of her children under one roof. It was assumed, albeit not one hundred percent confirmed, that their suspect was acting on his own accord. There was no real need for her to board her children onto planes if the suspect hadn't left the state yet.

They had to take every pre-caution. Names of highly respected officers of the LAPD, of the city, of the country, were in this manifesto. Special Operations was involved to make sure that the officers on the details carried out their duties to the letter. There would be no other fatalities. They couldn't afford it.

"If we release her name," Sharon began. "Or if we release their names with a reward, would that give you more work?"

"It could," Deputy Chief Howard nodded. "But I think it would be best to release their names with the details as vague as possible."

"What about her father?"

"The Judge has a detail," Howard confirmed. "No one is allowed in or out of his chambers, home, or work place without it being properly checked. He's one of the important protected."

Sharon nodded. She was on that list as well, but the Chief didn't need to elaborate on it. She knew it. Or else she wouldn't have had Cooper waiting for her outside of the building.

Prepared to question the Chief about the gear, she saw her son stepping into the room, despair in his eyes.

"Excuse me," Sharon said, standing quickly and going to the door.

She stepped out into the murder room, her son searching for her. When he saw her he dropped his bag and lunged at her. Both arms came around her shoulders and he buried his face in her neck.

"Rusty," Sharon sighed into his ear.

He let go and took a half step back. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and cupped his cheek.

"Sharon what the hell is going on?" He questioned. "You come home late and then I'm being personally escorted out of class by this guy and him?"

'This guy' was Detective Sanchez. 'Him' was what she could only assume was his new bodyguard.

"It's about this case I'm working," Sharon said. "We came across something that granted need for emergency protection."

"Emergency Protection?" Rusty questioned. "Sharon I just got into College. I don't want-"

"I don't have a say in it this time Rusty," Sharon said, her tone apologetic. "We have no choice."

He huffed and turned.

"Six month, Sharon," Rusty said. "Six months we've gone with out someone at our door."

"I know."

"I was finally able to go to class without someone at the door waiting for me when I got out."

"I know."

"And it's nice to not be followed when I'm driving."

"Rusty," Sharon tried. "I know. I understand. Believe me I do."

Sharon sent Rusty to the break room to get something to eat while she finished with SOB. They'd dispatch more feet on the ground to search the areas declared in the manifesto.

Through a friend of a friend, the names of the victim's were publicly released online. In the news it would be announced right after the lunch hour, and again around dinnertime and then close to midnight. In the morning it would be one of the top stories in the paper.

So much information, with still so little to go on, and it was only eleven in the morning.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who reviewed. Thank you to those who favorited and followed this story. It means a lot to me.

Keep it up and I'll be back in a couple days with a new update.