AN: Happy New Year, everyone! May 2015 be an amazing year filled with good health and success.

Tanith

Chapter 5

Steve draped the bloodied sheet back over the lifeless form of young Bobby Davidson then straightened up and listened to Lessing as the detective updated him on the details of the victim.

"He's got a rap sheet a mile long. Nothing serious. Mostly misdemeanors. Petty theft, traffic violations, vandalism, list goes on. Get this: he's from Arizona. He was kicked out of his apartment when he failed to pay his rent a week ago. We also found this in his wallet." Lessing passed a small crumpled photograph over to Steve.

"That looks like the girl we found last night. I'd be surprised if there wasn't a connection," Steve confirmed. He flipped the photograph over and found an inscription written on the back. "My wild cat, Alex," He read aloud. He wanted to point out how much the girl looked like Jeannie but decided perhaps it would be best for Mike to see the resemblance for himself. "Guess she's also from Arizona."

Mike wasn't blind and he was no fool. He could see the similarities that the young girl had to his daughter but it gave him no consolation because his Jeannie was still missing and now they were dealing with a murderer who killed two people without mercy. Two people who probably would still be alive if the killer didn't know what his daughter looked like and now they paid the ultimate price for a case of mistaken identity. "Any witnesses? Three shots fired, a block apart – someone's must've heard something!"

"Not if he used a silencer. We were at the cafe last night too and unless the killer somehow managed to time his shots perfectly with the clapping of the thunder, my money's on a silencer. I didn't hear anything, did you?" Steve asked.

"No, you're right. Then we're dealing with a pro. Someone who knows what they're doing," Mike agreed. "Someone who had this whole thing planned out."

"Someone who had expected Jeannie to be on that bus and knew you were going to meet her last night," Steve mused aloud. "But who could've known all that?"

Mike's heart skipped a beat at Steve's words. Whoever had pulled the trigger must have been watching him over a period of time. Could it be that someone had been studying his daughter's travel arrangements over the years since she went to live in Arizona? Someone from San Francisco? Questions! So many questions haunted Mike's mind. Questions he had no answers to. At least not yet.

Jeannie sat on the sofa with her legs drawn up protectively like a frightened child. She did feel like a child. Helpless, homeless and needing her family now more than ever. Surrounded by unfamiliar sights and smells, the pieces of the puzzle that she desperately wanted to solve started to drift further apart. Martha and Walter sat on the opposite side of the sofa and tried to coax her into remembering anything that could help restore her memory but the harder they tried, the more frustrated the girl became.

"I'm so sorry," Jeannie whimpered. Tears started to roll down her cheeks and she tried to hide them but there was no way of hiding the anguish in her voice.

Martha moved to sit beside the girl. She wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. "There, there my dear. It'll all come to you soon. You just have to give it time. You're welcome to stay with us for as long as it takes to get your memory back. Don't you worry about a thing! Walter and I will take care of you, alright?"

"I'll make us some tea," Walter excused himself and made his way to the kitchen.

Jeannie's sorrows were drowning in her tears as she wept in Martha's arms. It had been a long time since her mother had held her like this. Wait! A memory started to tug at her and she allowed herself to be drawn into it. Yes, she could see her mother's face. Her blue eyes and brown hair cascading around her shoulders in waves. A man's voice called out her name. Helen. Was Helen the name of her mother? She clung to the memory and tried to delve deeper but the sound of the kettle whistling as it reached boiling point broke trough her thoughts. Slowly, she pulled out of Martha's warm embrace and wiped her eyes with her hands. "I'm alright now. I-I think I remember my mother. Her name is Helen."

Rudy sat back thoughtfully as he listened to his two detectives reporting what they had uncovered so far in the double homicide investigation. There wasn't much to go on but they all believed they had enough to conclude that someone was after vengeance and Jeannie was the intended target. The question was, were the murders a message to say that the killers were holding Jeannie or was it really a case of a mistaken identity and Jeannie was somewhere safe? Was she in hiding? Was it worth the risk to assume the latter and play along by making it appear in the media that she was killed in the hopes of catching their suspect before he or she caught up with her? If they were to play along, they knew they would need to hurry to catch their suspect and find the college girl before the killer found out they killed the wrong person.

The conference was interrupted by Bill Tanner who informed Mike that there was a young lady who had brought in an interesting message for the Lieutenant.

Curious, both Mike and Steve followed Tanner to the outer office and found a familiar face waiting for them at the Inspector's desk.

"I'm Lieutenant Stone," Mike formally introduced and shook hands with the young woman. "You must be the waitress from Bob's Donuts and Pastries?" He gave a fleeting sidelong glance in Steve's direction.

"Sylvia, right?" Steve also extended his hand, though somewhat awkwwardly.

"Yes, we met last night. Steve?" Sylvia asked shyly.

Steve nodded and smiled.

Mike audibly cleared his throat. "Miss?"

"Nolan. Sylvia Nolan, Lieutenant," the young woman clarified.

"Miss Nolan, Inspector Tanner informed me you had something to show me?"

"Oh yes, I found this in the napkin holder on the table where you and Steve were sitting last night. I'm so sorry I didn't notice it until this morning. I guess I was in a hurry to get home after what happened to that poor girl that I must've missed it when I cleaned up and closed for the night," Sylvia explained a little breathlessly, handing the note to the Lieutenant.

Mike unfolded the letter and his frown deepened. It was yet another disturbing message. This time it read, RIP Jeannie Stone. Now we're even, Lieutenant Michael Stone. PS. Lover boy was a bonus. Once again, the words were made out using magazine cut outs.