"You like this place don't you, Penelope?"

Tara looked around the familiar coffee shop as the two grabbed the last booth near the entrance.

"Yeah I guess I do." Penelope chuckled. "Although if I had any sense, this should be the last place I would want to be."

"What do you mean?"

"I met a guy here…a drop dead gorgeous guy here."

"Really? That doesn't sound so bad."

"You'd think but that said drop dead gorgeous guy shot me!"

"What?"

"I almost died…"

Tara watched as Penelope's mood suddenly changed but only for a short moment then she was back to her bubbly self and focused on her.

"So, Tara, I never got your last name?"

"What?"

"Your last name?"

"Oh, Carlton. Tara Carlton."

Tara fidgeted slightly; she was having second thoughts about the name she'd chosen. Penelope was pretty smart and she wasn't ready for her new "friend" to discover her true identity just yet.

"Tara Carlton from Chicago, okay!"

Penelope removed her coat and folded it over the back of the booth while Tara watched her intently. The younger woman then reached into her purse for her wallet. The least she could do was buy the woman a cup of coffee. After all, she was about to shoot her dead like the drop dead gorgeous man had tried to do.

"Shoot me once, shame on you! Shoot me twice…your dead!" Tara thought humorously to herself.

"Oh no you don't, young lady! It's on me."

"No Penelope, you've been too kind already."

"Nonsense, I haven't done anything, really. Please allow me."

Tara smiled and relented as the brilliantly colored giddy blonde stood with her royal blue pleather wallet in hand.

"Well, okay, sure!"

Seemingly overjoyed, Penelope headed to the counter to purchase their coffee. Tara shook her head as the clickety clack of her heels sounded across the black and white tile of the small coffee shop. This was way too easy and she fought hard not to feel something for the woman who had no clue of her real intentions.

Tara removed her leather jacket and placed it in the space between her and Penelope. She couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for her to feel normal again after she completed her tasks in Quantico. Taking the life of Fran Morgan didn't give her the satisfaction she thought it would; yes he was grieving no doubt, who wouldn't be but still there was a need deep within her for more and as Penelope returned carrying two steaming white mugs, she reassured herself, that more she would get.

Home of Fran Morgan – Chicago – Morning –

Morgan had managed to pack up the majority of the main room and kitchen last night and this morning he'd started in his mother's room. He felt as if he was intruding as he pulled out drawers and rummaged through her closets. His mother had always been incredibly neat with everything organized in its assigned place and so his job was relatively easy. Sarah and Desiree would be arriving soon and he'd then turn over the rest of the packing to them while he headed to the police station to check on Gordinski's progress on the case. He was still irritated at the older man's insinuation that he was in the way. It was his mother who'd been killed and he loved her more than life and if it meant taking front and center in Gordinski's face twenty-four seven, then that's what he would do until the killer was found.

Derek found a box of pictures that his mother had tucked away neatly under her bed. As he pulled the bed linen from the bed and folded it neatly in a pile on the bed his foot accidently kicked the small box. Curious he knelt down and pulled the box from it's hiding place. Sitting next to the linen on the now bare mattress he thumbed through the pictures. He smiled as he remembered his last visit with his mother and sisters. He job had made it difficult to be home as often as he liked but he had somehow been able to make it home for all of his mother's birthdays.

Then he saw it buried in the midst of the others. He pulled it out and his heart stopped then started with a furious pounding as anger coursed through his veins. He didn't know if he was angry because the smiles of the faces caught him by surprise or because of the fact that this was the way he had found out about his mother's secret life.

The doorbell rang and his eyes jerked away from the picture as he jumped to his feet. His sisters' somber faces met his glare as he opened the door to let them in.

"Why didn't you two use your key?" He said angrily.

"Well excuse us for giving you your privacy!" Sarah began puzzled and offended.

"Yeah, we didn't want to walk in on you in your skivvies! We both know how you like to walk around the house butt ass naked!" Desiree chimed in.

He stepped away from the open door and into the kitchen. They two women followed their brother confused and irritated. He'd always been moody but neither of them was in the mood for it today.

"What is wrong with you, little brother?"

Sarah grabbed a mug from the cabinet as she waited for her brother's response. Des sat at the table watching as her brother without responding handed his older sister the picture in his hand.

"Oh shit…"

"Did you know about this?"

His eyes searched her face as she slowly took the picture from him and examined it. She refused to look at him as she tried desperately to figure a way out of the room before her brother exploded. Then he shifted his glare toward Des who quickly looked away at an imaginary object that had suddenly caught her attention outside the window.

"Des, did you know?"

Neither of the women spoke waiting for the other to find the courage and the words to answer.

"You did know! Both of you! And you didn't bother to tell me?"

"Derek…"

Sarah finally spoke up; she was the oldest after all.

"Somebody better tell me something! I can't believe Ma was with Gordinski! Of all people! After everything that man has done to me; nobody thought enough to tell me? Nobody?"

"Derek we're sorry, we…"

"Sorry? Sorry, huh…"

"Listen, it wasn't our place to tell you, D!" Des began. "It's not like they planned it or anything…it…it just happened."

Morgan fuming paced small circles around the room running his hands across his head and neck. He was beyond livid.

"Nothing just happens, Des! Our mother was dating Stan Gordinksi the man who made my life a living hell for most of my childhood and our mother chooses him?"

"It wasn't like that Derek!" Sarah added.

"This man has done everything he could think of to destroy my life! He tried to pin two murders on me with the help of Carl Buford and now you're going to actually stand there and tell me it wasn't like that?"

He was inconsolable and the two sisters had no words and no excuses to give him. They knew this was going to happen whenever he found out about their mother's relationship with Stan. They'd both pleaded with her to tell him but she kept putting it off wanting to wait until her son came home for a visit. His job kept him away and it had been almost a year since he'd been home. His anger was justified and they knew he had every right to be upset.

"Derek it wasn't about you!"

He stopped in his tracks stunned and silent his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe.

"What?"

"Not everything is about you!" Sarah spoke meeting her brothers' angry glare.

"Ma was happy; happier than I've seen her in years, Derek. He made her happy and in the end that's all that matters."

Derek turned and moved to the window and stared outside perhaps at the same imaginary object that had caught his sister's attention earlier.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have they been… together?"

"About six months." Des answered.

He let his head fall back as he closed his eyes trying to erase the vision of his mother and Stan Gordinski together. Then there was silence between them for several seconds as the two women waited for him to say something, anything. Desiree slowly stood and moved toward him taking a position behind her brother as she placed her small hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under her touch and jerked away turning and brushing past her. The two sisters followed him into the front room and watched as he grabbed his jacket and keys.

"Derek, where are you going?" Sarah asked troubled.

Without turning back he leaned his head against the door as his hand gripped the knob.

"Out!"