Hey guys!

Wow has it been a while! Once again, sorry for the delay in uploading. Things have been hectic lately and along with that, my wifi won't decide whether it wants to work for me or not...dang wifi...but just in case anyone was worried, I have every intention of finishing this story and I want to thank everyone and anyone who's sticking around to see what happens. You guys truly mean the world :D

Now, let me just apologize in advance for how short this chapter is compared to the others. I think it's actually the shortest I've uploaded since the first chapter...which I really don't like doing but by uploading this mini chapter right now, that means I can upload the next one (which will be longer...just saying) a lot sooner than I would otherwise. So in other words, this will be working in your favor if you want another chapter sooner:)

Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, faved, and followed. Your support is great and I love all of you! But enough from me, please enjoy chapter 10!:D

"Hey, Jo, glad you could make it."

Jo nodded towards Hanson but besides that, didn't say anything in response. Hanson did a double take to peek at her expression. She let him.

"Everything okay?"

Jo shrugged and started in the direction of the front door to the house. "Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

Hanson held the door open for her and the whole while she could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of her head, "I don't know…you just seem a bit off."

Well of course she was feeling a bit 'off'. No matter what she tried to convince herself of, that Henry was sick, that sending him to the doctors was in his best interest…she just couldn't get the way he had looked at her out of her mind. The betrayal she could see shining so brightly behind the chocolate brown…it made her skin crawl with guilt.

"This one's a bit interesting," Hanson continued leading her further into the suburban house and thankfully letting the subject go…at least for now, "looks like Jones is changing his pace of murder."

They walked into a vivid living room. The walls were coated in bright yellow and the furniture had a flowery print with needlepoint pillows sitting on the cushions. There was a wide flat screen on the wall along with a few happy family portraits scattered around. All in all, a very nice looking home, except for the severely mutilated body she spotted laying half way in between the kitchen and the living room.

The white carpet was completely dyed red in a circle around the body and on the wall directly behind them was the familiar message in Latin, the deep red of the blood clashing sickeningly with the yellow paint.

"Aliud monstrum mortuus, sed realis monstrum. Increpationes meas neglexistis." She read out loud this time, mostly just to save Hanson from having to stumble through the unfamiliar language for a second time.

"And that's not even the half of it. Ten bucks says you can't guess who the victim is," Hanson offered.

Jo took a few steps closer to kneel by the body. She tried not to grimace; it really was a gory sight. There was blood spattered all over the victims face and clothes and where his chest should be was a tattered mess of skin that revealed way too much of his internal organs.

"Another knife attack, but what's the motive?" she wondered out loud, already feeling her forehead scrunch in the way it always did when she got frustrated.

"Well, not really sure what game this guy is playing, but turns out he did us a favor with this murder."

Jo quirked an eyebrow at that and turned back to look at Hanson questioningly, but it was Lucas who spoke next, appearing suddenly from out of the kitchen and reminding Jo of someone she really shouldn't think about right now.

"I translated the message," he said, turning much too excited eyes on her, "it says 'another monster dead, but the real monster lives. Heed my warning.'" He smiled in spite of himself, "pretty cool right?"

"You know Latin?"

His smile faltered slightly, "Um, no," he held up his iPhone, "Google translate."

She nodded and turned back to the body. Something about him looked vaguely familiar but the knowledge danced right along the outskirts of her mind, eluding her.

When it became clear that Jo wasn't going to be guessing names anytime soon, Hanson spoke, "The guys' name is Jared Miller."

Jo felt her eyes widen at that and Hanson smirked at her expression, "That's not the…"

Hanson nodded, "Yup, human trafficker, very popular with the FBI right now…and just about every other agency in the vicinity," he sighed and shoved his hands into his pant pockets, a light wonderment filling his eyes as he studied the body, "I don't know how Jones did it, but he did."

Jo couldn't help the confusion that flooded through her. What was the connection with these murders? All the killer left them was messages that made no sense whatsoever…well maybe the monster part made sense, but what did he mean about the 'real monster'. Was he some kind of vigilante? Going around town and taking out all the names written on the most wanted list? But then why was the psychologist murdered other than the fact that he had been Jones' psychologist? It didn't make any sense…

"Turns out Miller here was living under an alias which was why he'd never been caught," Hanson explained, "he was good at covering his tracks…until Jones came along that is."

"So monsters and immortals…maybe Jones thinks of them as the same thing?" Lucas wondered out loud.

"Yeah, 'heed my warning' sounds like he's referring to his previous message."

Jo stood from her crouch beside the body, "But immortals don't exist…his other message is completely crazy. What are we supposed to go off of here?" Jo questioned, her voice sounding every bit as frustrated as she felt. But before anyone could answer her questions, her phone rang loudly from her pocket.

"Martinez," she said, pressing the phone to her cheek and doing her best to keep any frustration out of her voice. It was difficult, but she managed.

The voice that responded on the other end however, made her forget all about her frustration, replacing it with a blind anger that unfurled in her chest and ripped through her veins.

"Detective, I see you've found another body."

Her hands clenched at hearing the familiar cold voice. This was none other than Jones, the murderer of the very mutilated body she was staring at right now. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about having secret chats with the murderer of their case, but what she did know was that she couldn't tell anyone about him yet…not until she could figure out what the bastard did to Henry. A fire grew deep in her stomach and licked through her veins at the thought of the bodiless voice doing something—anything—to Henry. Everything that they were going through right now is because of him. She didn't know how he did it or why he did it, but she was going to catch this guy. And once she had more than just his voice, she was going to make him regret ever messing with her and Henry in the first place.

"Everything alright, Detective? You're a little quieter than usual."

The voice broke her out of her own furious thoughts and she suddenly remembered where she was. Both Hanson and Lucas were watching her curiously, probably wondering why she looked like she wanted to punch a wall. She raised both her eyebrows at them and tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen where there didn't seem to be as many people.

She was going to need privacy for this call.

When she double checked to make sure no one was within earshot of her in the small kitchen, she spoke into the phone in a harsh whisper, starting with the first question at the forefront of her mind.

"Why do you keep calling me?"

"You seem to have a very unique bond with the Doctor that I have yet to find in anyone else…also, I've decided to keep a close eye on this case. I bet all of you are happy with how this turned out."

Jo hesitated, feeling more than a little caught off guard by the honesty she could hear in the other's voice, not to mention what Jones actually said. What did he mean by a unique bond? How the hell would he know anything about their relationship in the first place? She wanted to ask these questions, wanted to get some straight answers for once, but for some reason she couldn't voice them. She didn't even know where to start on putting her curiosity into words that would actually make sense, so she responded to the other comment he made.

"We needed him alive. Now we'll never find out how he was getting those people out of the country."

"Well, what can you do? At least there's one less murderer on the streets…which brings us to the message. 'The real monster…' what do you think he means by that, Detective?"

Jo blinked. 'He'…what was Jones talking about? He was the murderer of this body, he was the one who wrote that message in blood and left it there on the wall for the cops to find. She was starting to feel even more confused than prior to picking up the phone.

"What do you mean 'he'? You're the one responsible for this."

"Me, murdering a wanted man and leaving a message written in a dead language on the wall in his blood?" he asked in a voice feigning shock and maybe even a bit of what sounded like disgust and then he actually chuckled, the bastard, "I may have a taste for the dramatic but I assure you, Detective, that is not my style."

Jo breathed out sharply through her nose, her hand coming up to rub against her forehead in an attempt to stem the headache that was surely on its way.

"Are you saying that you're not the one responsible for this?"

"No."

The word came quickly and without hesitation and no matter how much she wanted to think he was lying, a large part of her couldn't help but believe him. What good would it do him to lie right now? It's not like they were any closer to catching him even when she did think he was the one behind the murder. There just wasn't a real reason for a lie right now. But then that still left another question to ask.

"Then why did you murder your psychologist? Why call me?"

She was met with silence on the other line and for a second, she was worried they may have lost connection. But then Jones spoke again and the words she heard left her completely bewildered.

"I am not Tyler Jones."

"What?"

"I am not Tyler Jones," Jone—the man—repeated, "I did not commit those murders and I am not the one you and your department are desperately searching for."

"But—you—," and God, why couldn't she stop stuttering? She was really starting to get tired of all these guessing games. Someone had to be capable of giving her a straight answer for once! But this man, whoever he was, didn't seem to be one of them. Her mind was reeling with the new information he had just told her and now, she honestly had no idea what to believe about anything. Everything about this case that she thought was true before now was filled with uncertainty and doubt. Leave it to a creepy stranger to completely screw up her professional and personal life all in one phone call.

Finally, when her brain seemed to catch up with her mouth, she asked the most important question now, the words sounding like an echo from their previous conversation, "Who are you?"

"Once again, Detective, you are focusing on the wrong questions," the voice answered her, amused, "You should be thinking about that murder you're looking at right now and more importantly, the message."

Why was he so focused on the case? At this point, she honestly had to consider that he was involved with Jones…since now it appeared he wasn't Jones himself. With a quick glance down at the number, she silently cursed. It wasn't the same as before, so he was probably switching phones each time. She wasn't stupid enough to even consider the possibility that he calling her from Jones' phone that first time was a coincidence. The two had to be working together.

Either way, right now she didn't want to talk about the case, she wanted to find more about what he did to Henry and since that was really the only thing she was sure he had actually done, she wanted to know as soon as possible. "I'm more concerned with talking about Henry right now. What did you do to him?"

She heard a light chuckle from the other side and it only succeeded in making her angrier. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

"Oh, but we are talking about Henry, Detective, you still haven't figured it out?"

Jo hesitated, her indignant retort dying on her lips. What was he talking about? What could Henry's memory loss possibly have to do with Jones? "Figure what out?"

"You tell me."

And with that, the line went dead.

"Damn it!" It took all she had just resisting the urge to slam the phone down on the cold granite counter top underneath her fingertips. If this caller was using different phones each time, there was no way she would be able to track him. Once he hung up, he was gone.

She closed her eyes and tried to just breathe. Things were quickly spiraling out of her control and she felt completely helpless to stop it. A feeling she definitely was not comfortable with. But now she really had her back against a wall; no leads in Jones' case except for maybe an accomplice, no lead with the caller, and Henry was still all screwed up from whatever it was that was done to him…and he was mad at her.

And for some reason, she was more hung up on that last one than any of the other problems she had. That fact bothered her. She couldn't let personal problems interfere with her job, but she just couldn't get Henry out of her head. It was a strange feeling…she had never expected the weird M.E. from the basement to become such an important friend to her…never expected anyone to become such a good friend after Sean if she was being completely honest with herself. But somehow, through everything, Henry had managed to worm his way past her defenses.

And what was even more surprising was that she was happy he had. Even if sometimes he did make her feel like she wanted to tear her own hair out at his mysterious responses or his inability to spend one day safely tucked away in the morgue, the way he would give his own life in a second just to save someone else's…his incredibly big heart, his courageousness, his compassion…

The more she thought about it, the more she felt her insides warm. The stress and the frustration and the worry…it was all worth it to have Henry in her life and she knew without a doubt that if the decision was left to her, she would never want to give him up. But now, Henry was somewhere feeling lost and probably scared senseless even if he was too stubborn to admit it…

All it took was a second and she had her mind made up. She left the kitchen and walked over to where Hanson and Lucas were still waiting for her by the body, tucking her phone back away.

"Hey, something just came up. You guys heading back to the precinct?" she asked.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Hanson asked rather nonchalantly, but Jo could see the curiosity burning brightly behind his gaze.

She couldn't tell him, not yet at least. She was still going to do her best to keep her promise, even if it had already been broken once. But keeping the lie similar to the truth was always a good plan.

"Henry's been thinking over the case, he wants to go over some things with me," she could see the skeptical expressions well hidden behind both of their eyes and practically heard the unspoken question. Why didn't Henry just come to the precinct?

"He's still not feeling all too great but he made it sound urgent. I'll be back in a few hours," and with a quick pat on Hanson's shoulder, she walked through the two men and made her way out of the house. That was going to have to be enough for them…at least until Henry decided it was time to let them in on what was going on with him…If he let them in, at least. But if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she was going to be there for Henry right now, whether he wanted her to or not. The leadless case could wait a few hours.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, she sent Abe a quick text, feeling incredibly but still ridiculously grateful that at least one of the two accepted technology.

JO: Hey, how's he doing?

ABE: He hasn't ran out yet so pretty good.

JO: Good, I'll be there in a few. What's his room #?

ABE: 309, and thanks.

She locked her phone and couldn't keep away the small smile her lips formed. She knew he'd be okay, she just hoped he wasn't going to hold any grudges. She shrugged. Either way, she was coming to him.

And with that thought, she got in her car and left the small house and the mysterious body to fade away into the distance.

And mini chapter completed! Thanks for reading and if you guys are confused about anything or noticed any inconsistencies with the info (it's been a while, hehe) then please don't hesitate to bring it up to me and I'll do my best to clarify/fix it!

Also, to any Latin speakers out there, blame Google translate for any mistakes there may have been with that message. I am but a humble addict to it's helpful skills.

See you guys next chapter!:D