Goren's headache persisted, dull and throbbing, until after lunch. Neither Eames nor Malicek said much to him, for which he was grateful. He was in no mood to deal with his annoyed partner or the difficult FBI agent. Both women left him alone, and he immersed himself in the files that were spread throughout the conference room. Neither Moretti nor Nugent knew him well enough or were comfortable enough with him to disturb him.

He lost track of time, which was nothing unusual, and would have worked right through lunch without eating if Eames hadn't dropped a sandwich in front of him at half-past twelve. He turned to thank her, but she didn't wait for his gratitude. He didn't understand her irritation, and he was in no mood to waste mental energy trying to figure it out.

As he ate, he finished with the New Hampshire file, closed it and grabbed the next one. His eyes scanned the information page. Danbury, Connecticut, May 1999. Not one of the scenes Malicek and Nugent would have processed. Female, mid-thirties to mid-forties, shoulder-length curls, brunette. Same old, same old. He flipped the sheet over, expecting to find the coroner's report. He stared for a moment at the unfamiliar form that met his eyes. A missing person's report. Stephanie Forrester, age thirty-eight. He shuffled through the file until he found the photo of the missing woman and jumped up, strolling across the room to the pictures that were taken at the scene.

He looked over his shoulder when the door opened, a deep frown on his face. "Why didn't you tell me this victim was identified?"

Malicek looked honestly confused. "For one thing, you never asked."

He drew in a deep breath and counted to ten. "How many of these victims are identified?"

"Seven."

"All through missing persons?"

" Yes."

"Did you run the others through Missing Persons?"

She stared at him for a moment. "Now why didn't we think of that? Do you really think we're that incompetent?"

He leaned against the wall. "Things get overlooked."

"Not by me."

He raised his hands and walked back to the table, tossing the picture on top of the file where he was sitting. As he walked toward the door, she asked, "Have you run your vics through Missing Persons' yet?"

He shook his head as he yanked the door open. If the squads who had worked the cases had thought to run them by Missing Persons, they had made no note of it. His bad mood got even worse.

He called Missing Persons and asked them to send him any reports they had for any women matching the description of their victims. He also asked them to coordinate with other offices throughout the northeast and find files for missing women across the region. When the woman he spoke to started to argue about the scope of his request, he'd snapped at her, asking if she would want her body identified if she were one of the victims. She offered no further argument, and he did not look forward to receiving the files he requested.

Next, he called down to the morgue to find out if they'd received all three of the exhumed bodies. As he waited for the tech on the other end to find the answer to his question, Eames got off the elevator with Moretti and Nugent. He watched her laugh as they walked to the conference room, and he began to regret making her angry, even if he had no idea how he'd done it.

After hanging up the phone, he returned to the conference room. "Rodgers has all three bodies," he announced. "I'll be in the morgue."

Malicek dropped the file in her hand onto the table. "I'll go with you."

Eames glared at her as she followed Goren through the door. "Come on, guys. Let's see what Dr. Rodgers can tell us."

Rodgers leaned over one of the bodies that had just arrived from Woodlawn Cemetery. She looked up at the sound of voices outside the autopsy room and closed her eyes for a moment, praying for patience. She straightened her back and watched the detectives and the two FBI agents overfill the doorway. Her gaze focused on Goren. "I just got them, Goren. Give me a chance to look at them."

He came into the room, his eyes riveted to the victim on the table. Rodgers gave a sigh of exaggerated patience and stepped back. Malicek also entered the room, circling to the side of the table opposite Goren. Eames and Nugent advanced to stand near their respective partners while Moretti remained near the door. Eames motioned to him, but he shook his head. "I'm close enough, thanks."

Actually, pictures were close enough for Moretti. The smell of embalming fluid and decay turned his stomach. Goren leaned over the victim's abdomen and he studied the familiar burn marks in her skin. Malicek examined them from the other side, absently murmuring, "Robert, Richard, Raymond..."

"Rest," Goren interjected without interrupting his examination. He was not averse to the idea they could be initials, but he was stubbornly opposed to the idea they were the killer's initials. Somewhere within his profiler's brain he knew they were not. If not an epitaph, they were initials that had some deep meaning to their man, but they were not his signature.

Malicek looked up at him. "Obstinate," she hissed.

He shifted his eyes toward her for a second before returning to the body. "I don't think so. There's no 'O' here."

Eames stifled a laugh, earning her a hot glare from Malicek, which amused her.

Rodgers, on the other hand, was not in the least bit amused. There were far too many people in her examination room. She was not in the mood for an audience. She needed space, to think, to conduct her examination. "Out," she said the word once and with such authority both Goren and Malicek ceased their bickering and looked at her. She did not repeat herself, she simply gestured toward the door. "You will receive my full report, and once you have it you can contact me if you feel the need to conduct your own examination."

Goren would take her up on that offer; he always did. Glancing at Malicek, he wondered if she would do the same.

When they returned to the conference room, Ross was there, waiting for them. The dark look on his face was an indication that something was up, and it was not good.

"The Chief of D's has scheduled a press conference for five this afternoon," Ross said without preamble.

Goren stopped short in his tracks, resulting in Eames deftly sidestepping around him. Nugent ran his hand through his hair, trying his best to keep his expression neutral. Malicek's mouth fell open. Uncertain, Moretti stood by, silently watching events unfold as Ross' words sank in.

Malicek was the first to find her voice. "What? You have to be kidding me."

"Unfortunately, I'm not, Agent Malicek. I'll need an update by four-thirty."

Ross was clearly not happy. Goren guessed the chief was shoving this down his throat. He hoped they were not going to choke on it.

Malicek exploded. "We've kept this case out of the press for 6 years and you people have it for 6 seconds and it becomes a media event!?!"

"Malicek," Nugent cautioned his partner. This wasn't some random cop she was yelling at; he was the captain of one of NYPD's most elite squads. This man had the mayor's ear when he wanted it, and their boss would not react kindly to another negative report about her temper.

Ross studied her with an air of exaggerated patience that Moretti recognized from watching him deal with his sons. Barely suppressing a smile, Moretti looked around the room at the rest of the team. Eames also realized Ross' patience was wearing thin, but she was relieved that this time it wasn't her partner testing the captain's limits. Ross motioned a hand at the pictures on the walls. "You have two dozen women here. That's reason enough to put the public on its guard. But you can't really start exhuming bodies and expect the press not to notice." He placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, his gaze still fixed on Malicek. "They notice things like that. It's their job. We deal with them. That's part of our job. Four-thirty."

He pushed off the table and left the room. Nugent saw the storm building in his partner and his brain scrambled for a way to head it off. He came up empty and watched helplessly as she turned the full force of her anger on Goren. In her mind, he was the one who drew in the media by insisting on the exhumations.

"You!" Malicek began, thrusting her finger at Goren as she approached him. "You did this!"

She tossed her hands up and let out a growl of frustration as she bore down on the detective, stopping just short of grabbing his jacket in her hands. "You wanted those exhumations! You might as well have rented a billboard announcing to the world we have a serial killer stalking the city!" The ripe emotion in her voice was unmistakable. "You...!"

Her mind ran out of words to throw at him and she offered up another growl before turning on her heel and storming from the room, slamming the door behind her. One of the pictures closest to the door fluttered to the ground.

Goren showed no outward reaction to Malicek's meltdown. His eyes followed her as she stalked out of the room. Malicek's reaction was not simply one of frustration from being forced to play politics by being party to a press conference. This was something else, something deeper.

Moretti was the first to speak. "Wow. What was that?"

They looked at Nugent for insight into his partner's reaction. He shifted uncomfortably. A dozen explanations popped into his head. They had been working this case for years, and it had taken its toll on Malicek, hijacking her life, consuming her every breath. Nugent knew that Malicek had a binder containing photographs of each and every victim along with the few details about them that they knew. On the second floor of her Brooklyn home she had a small office where one entire wall displayed their evidence, arrayed in chronological order. He worried for her health, knowing that she no longer slept well, and displays of that temper of hers led to disciplinary action and a psych consult for help with better managing her anger in the context of this investigation. He was acutely aware that divulging any one of those things would put their partnership, and their friendship, in grave jeopardy.

Finally, he tapped a finger near the stack of files on the table. "Malicek has a lot invested in this case," he said lamely, not knowing what else to say. Everyone continued to stare at Nugent, making it clear that his response was sorely lacking.

Eames was the first to speak. "There are a lot of victims here and years of work; we get that. But it doesn't excuse..."

"Please, Detective Eames..." He waved a hand in the air and shook his head. "Excuse me."

Nugent turned sharply and left the room in search of his partner. Goren found that interesting. Clearly the FBI partners had their differences, but when it came down to it, Nugent wasn't going to stand around and listen to anyone say anything disparaging about Malicek. Goren looked at Eames, who had stood by him in the same way for most of the last decade, and he had to respect Nugent for his loyalty. Partners needed to stand together.

When 4:30 rolled around, Goren showed up in Ross's office followed by Eames, Moretti, and Nugent. Malicek was conspicuously missing. Ross looked at Goren. "Our show begins in thirty. What's the party line?"

Uncomfortable as he usually was in Ross' presence, Goren rubbed the back of his neck and advised, "Keep it simple. Assure them that there is an experienced team in place investigating several strangulation deaths that have occurred in the city over the last two years."

Goren's mind had been churning since Ross dropped the bombshell of the press conference on them and it had not slowed. But he was being very cautious. He was not going to sacrifice their investigation to public curiosity or risk frightening the killer into changing his MO, which would be a huge setback for the team.

"That's it?" Ross asked, visualizing Moran's reaction to what would be a very short statement. It made his stomach churn.

The door to the office flung open suddenly and Malicek entered, speaking as she did. "We could use the press to help us identify some of the victims."

Her cooperative tone surprised everyone, and Goren nodded agreement with her suggestion. It was first on his mental list of recommendations. He picked up the ball. "We should get one of the sketch guys to work up a drawing of each of our unidentified victims. I wouldn't recommend releasing crime scene or autopsy photos. We have to inject life into the pictures we release."

"The press will want more than pictures," Nugent interjected.

"Well, they're not going to get any more," Malicek snapped. "We'll just redirect them with the assurance there's a team in place investigating a series of death that have some similarities..."

"The press will want more," Nugent repeated, cutting his partner off in mid-sentence, mentally flinching at the sense of deja-vu he got from her words as he ignored her annoyed look.

Ross held up his hand before an argument could erupt. "I'll redirect them. I don't want to give them any more than we absolutely have to."

Even though Ross sided with her, Malicek could not resist pointing out, "If it wasn't for your people..." She glared pointedly at Goren. "...this little party wouldn't be necessary."

Ross deflected her accusation. "This press conference is an order from the Chief of Detectives. Your agency does not have a reputation for cooperating with other law enforcement agencies, let alone the press, Agent Malicek. However, my department has a reputation of cooperation with both, and we are not going to damage a relationship we have worked hard to foster. The press will get enough information to keep them satisfied without getting enough to compromise our investigation. Deal with it."

He hated having to do it this way but it was being forced on him and he had to play a tenuous balancing act. But he was not going to teeter on the edge alone. Watching Goren give a curt nod of approval as he started for the door, Ross called him back. "Don't go far, detective. I want you all on hand."

Goren understood that he meant they were to back him up with their physical presence at the press conference. The press did not intimidate him. Few people in life did. He glanced at Eames, who was still making a point of ignoring him. He felt a rise in tension he could not explain and left the office, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

Malicek remained in the office with Ross after the others left, speaking quietly to him as he nodded in response. Goren watched her from his desk, gathering from her body language that she was apologizing to Ross or at least trying to explain her earlier behavior. Her sudden about face in regard to the press conference, coupled with her almost submissive apology to the captain, had his head spinning. She really was full of contradictions, and he felt a need to understand her. Eternally busy, his mind began trying to figure her out.

He sat in the diner, drinking a glass of milk while he ate his dinner. The TV in the corner behind the counter was broadcasting the news. He recognized a police press conference when he saw one, and he read the words that scrolled across the screen beneath the man at the podium. NYPD admits possible serial killer at large in city.

He smiled to himself. They were talking about him.

In the background he saw a familiar face: Special Agent Corrine Malicek. His eyes were drawn to her. He liked to watch her every chance he got. Agent Malicek wanted him; he could feel it. When a crowd gathered around the scenes of his handiwork, he watched Malicek as the locals and the FBI secured a scene with almost no forensic evidence and the coroner removed his victim in a heavy black bodybag. He didn't have the time to stick around at every scene, but if he was nearby sometimes he would blend in with the gathered crowd. Once, he saw the crime scene guys snapping pictures of the crowd. He wondered if Special Agent Malicek later found herself looking at him. The idea of it was exciting.

She was tall, dark haired, always so serious. Today, her eyes were hiding behind a pair of dark sunglasses. Standing beside her was a tall, broad man, also wearing dark sunglasses against the late afternoon sun. He had the bearing of a cop, one of the NYPD detectives working the case with his Agent Malicek. What would it be like to work with Corrine Malicek? He felt a surge of resentment toward the newcomer to the case, to his case. It matched closely with the resentment he felt toward Agent Malicek's partner, what's his name. From time to time, Agent Malicek glanced toward the tall cop, and he could almost see her glowering glare. Things were not going well for the investigators. Things were not going well between this man and woman. He closed his eyes for a moment, the last thought lingering in his mind.

Suddenly, without warning, a voice echoed through his head. "Why? Why can't you just do as I ask? Why?"

His father's voice, angry and accusing. Things never went well between his mother and his father. His mind's eye watched them across the dining table as he drank his milk. Any minute now his father would jump up from his chair and grab his mother, by her arm or her hair, maybe by her throat.

"You can go to your room, sweetheart," his mother said to him, a false sweetness in her voice as she sent him away before the real fighting began. She could feel it coming as well as he could. He finished his milk and left the table as asked. He could not remember the last time he said anything to his parents. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he said anything at school or after school. Days, a week maybe.

"Can I get you anything else?" The sweet voice of the waitress brought him back from the past to the here and now. He shook his head no and rose to pay his bill. He hadn't said anything today, except for the 4 words he used to order his sandwich and a glass of milk. He looked at the waitress, shoulder length brown hair, a wide smile. He focused on her eyes, brown and flat with no hint of gold or blue or green. No, her eyes were all wrong. He took his change from her, looked once more at Special Agent Corrine Malicek and left the diner.