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Hope you like it, this chapter is very touching….

Major Crimes is not mine….

Andy's POV

"Undercover? Captain, you were just attacked, are you really going to go undercover?" I asked as I searched her eyes. When all she did was shrug, I said, "You have fifty marks on your back-"

"Eleven less than I should have," Sharon countered.

"Fifty none the less! Why would you go undercover?" I asked, hoping for a reasonable answer.

"We, Lieutenant. Why would we go undercover? For many reasons actually," I watched as Sharon walked over to the murder board. "Find me the personnel files on all of our victims, I'll give you a reason then." I watched as Buzz poked his head into the hall and signaled the captain towards him. "Now, if you'll excuse me," I watched as the Captain shuffled down the hall. I sighed and dropped my jacket on the back of my chair. I sat down with a faint huff and called in the personnel files I needed.

Sharon's POV

I walked into the room with Buzz, Sanchez, and Sykes. "We found five people who bought mace and sliver nitrate in the past five years." I looked at the list of names shown on the screen, with the amount bought and the date of purchase. "Out of these, how many have bought enough silver nitrate to kill six women?' I watched as Buzz tapped away at the computer. "Just two," Buzz said. I looked at the last two names. "And which one has bought enough mace to blind six women?"

"Maver Neris-Laticet," Buzz said as this was the only name left on the screen. Detective Sykes scribbled the name onto her notepad and rushed out to the murder room. Detective Sanchez raised an eyebrow but followed her out. I stood from my crouched position, straightened my jacket and said, "Thank you Buzz, you might have just given us the first major break in this case so far," Buzz nodded and I walked out of the tech room.

In the murder room, the name Maver Neris-Laticet was written in red letters. Sykes took a black marker and crossed out the letters as she formed words below the name.

"Silver nitrate mace," Sykes announced once all the letter were crossed out. "The name is a fake," I mused aloud.

"Dead end," Provenza said as he rounded the corner into the murder room. "There are no stores that sell silver nitrate and mace in thee state of Los Angeles." Provenza flung his jacket around the back of his chair and sat down.

"Um, Captain?" Flynn asked cautiously. I turned to face him, waiting for him to continue. "I read through each victim's personnel file and credit card statements. All six of our women have been to 'The Vegas-Angels Club'. Half the bar is in Vegas, the other half here in Los Angeles. They all stayed at hotels within ten miles of the club. The thing is, they all visited the club on a Thursday," I placed my hands on my hips and said to the team, "Lieutenant Flynn and I, will be going undercover to a hotel near our club. This serial killer came after me once, he'll want to finish his job. Buzz, please gather all the necessary equipment for eyes and ears to be on the Lieutenant and myself." Provenza smirked. Buzz walked off to follow out my command. "Lieutenant Tao, would you mind watching Rusty while I'm away? He's been wanting to catch- up with Kevin for quite some time…"

"Not at all, Capt'n. Kevin will be thrilled to beat someone new in his video games," Tao said with a smirk. "Thank you lieutenant. Andy, my office for a moment, please." Andy sighed but complied.

Andy's POV

Being called into the Captain's office was like being called down to the principal's office for a first time- fear and suspicion.

"Captain, I really don't think you should be going undercover. You aren't well enough to be caching a killer," I said. Sharon Raydor nodded, though the determination set in her eyes said otherwise. "We should leave early Friday morning. That gives you two days to pack and prepare for the four hour drive to the border of California."

Sharon held open the door for me, saying in her own polite way, to get back to work. "I really don't think you should be doing this, Sharon. As your friend," I watched as Sharon tried to hide a wince at my use of the word friend. "As your friend. I don't think you should be doing this job. Send Sykes undercover. You should be in bed. Resting." I said sternly.

Sharon let out a quiet, dry laugh, humorless and utterly scary.

"As your friend, I'm perfectly fine of taking care of myself."

I nodded and walked to my desk to gather my notes that I had taken on the women killed.

"When I looked through the personnel files of our victims, I wrote down some things about these women. Since you all only know their names, age, and time of death, I have some little facts about these six women."

I had everyone's attention.

"Alexis Gardner, our sixteen year-old victim who died at sixteen-hundred hours, was a dancer who had just moved in with her boyfriend. She came to L.A. to visit her parents."

"Sarah Matthews, out twenty- four year-old victim who died at twelve-hundred twelve, was an activist fighting for foster children who need professional help but aren't granted it." Sharon Raydor bowed her head, her hair veiling over her around her face as she listened to what I had to say.

"Madison Royce, a thirty year-old, she died at fifteen-hundred fifteen, was in L.A. as a tourist. She was going through her bucket list because she had cancer and was going to die soon," Sykes and the rest of the team followed Sharon and bowed their heads as I continued.

"Roxanne Armstrong, forty-six years-old died at twenty-three hundred twenty-three, was a self-centered drama queen. She didn't have many friends, but because of this killer, her father will never walk his little girl down the aisle. She had a wedding scheduled here in L.A." Roxanne had hit a soft spot. My little girl was married and safe with her new husband.

"Elizabeth Miller, fifty- four was killed at twenty-three hundred thirty-one, lost her father in World War II. Her mother walked out on her when she was ten, never came home from the supermarket one day. Elizabeth was placed in foster care where she was taught to write. She was here in the beautiful city of Los Angeles to gather information and scenery for her new book."

"Julia Wallace was sixty years-old and she died at twenty- four hundred thirty six. Julia was in charge of managing the budget for the neutron bomb in 1978. After her job was done, she had three beautiful girls. Her girls grew up and got married. Julia's twelve grandchildren lost their grandmother who was living here in Los Angeles."

I took a silent shaky breath. I was a man, I wouldn't cry publicly, but these were rather unnerving. All six victims had died pre-maturely. Madison Royce was going to die, only a couple months left, but her life was cut short.

If Sharon died, she'd leave behind her beautiful kids, Rusty, and myself.

How would I live without someone to bump heads with at work?

This was very hard to write, and I hope it's as emotional to you as it was to me.

There was actually a neutron bomb made, but in 1978, a woman probably wouldn't have been in charge of money…

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