Rachel returned to work the next night to the strip club version of a ghost town. She was one of only 9 girls to show up and it broke her heart to see the look on Max's face.

"Maybe I should just shut it down already." He said as he paced back and forth in his office while she stood there trying to execute the next step in there plan. The one that would keep the only other girl that was in the Jack's sights safe.

"I mean. Who ever this guy is he's killing all my girls and I'm not sure he'll stop. The police haven't done anything.

"They're trying Max. And you can't be sure that it's only the girls here." She offered as she leaned back in the comfortable leather arm chair in front of his desk.

"Come on Rachel. It's obvious. Four girls already. All my girls. I just wish I could do something. Maybe closing up shop will stop it all." Max said in frustration.

"And what makes you think that closing will stop it? You can't be sure that will do any good and we all need a place to work. The girls that are loyal to you and your business are here, that's got to mean something." She said but moment by moment she saw his anxiety growing.

"I just don't know what to do any more. At this point I'm just glad that I'm not a suspect." He said as he took a seat behind his desk facing her.

"Of course your not a suspect. You where here when most of all this was happening. I told the police that myself. They have no reason to look at you." She told him.

He let out a breath and slumped in his chair. "I just don't want any of you to be hurt anymore. Most of the girls where just kids. I know that I don't run the most moral of places, but I feel a responsibility to all of you. That's why I never fought to have the place zoned to be topless or all-nude except in the back rooms, I don't want to have a sleazy joint or anything. just a respectable gentleman's club and make a living. Most of the girls in this industry are just trying to make their way through school or are troubled girls who don't know how to do anything else but dance. I've let anyone whose doing the wrong thing go without thinking twice about it. Drugs, alcoholism, anything like that that and your out the door. I don't want that kind of thing to spoil the rest of my girls who're probably having a hard time enough already."

Rachel looked at the young, handsome man and was once again in awe of how different he was than most others in his line of work. A strip club owner with morals and a sense of responsibility to his work force who where fragile in a world where people of his kind took advantage of their youth and venerability. She was stabbed by anger at the spirit that had chosen this upstanding jewel in the rough to feed upon instead of one of the jerk-offs that ran this industry.

Looking at Max's pained face with bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, hair and suit slightly disheveled most likely from lack of concentration to groom himself in the swamp of jumbled thought that probably ran through his head, she vowed once again to destroy this spirit and leave Max in peace to do his quiet work and lead a normal life.

Another stab of pain went through her as she realized that she was about to add to his worries falsely in order to do that job.

"Max that reminds me. I need to talk to you about something very serious." She began. "I don't mean to give you more on you plate right now but there's something you need to know about Vivian."

She recounted her lie to him about hearing Vivian relay the tale of how she had scored a large sum from a guy in the back room for oral sex. Remembering to keep the details scarce and simple in order to keep it up. She saw him frown and listen intently.

"I know I haven't been here long and you probably have no reason to believe me. But I swear she told me and even tried to tell me that I could do it easily. She's trying to turn your place here into a brothel and I know that's not what you need."

"Vivian?" He said another frown. "I'm actually not surprised."

Now it was Rachel's turn to be taken aback. "You know?"

"I had an idea." He said. "She's very popular here and gets requested a lot. I had my suspicions."

Rachel couldn't believe her luck. He suspected her and she had just confirmed it for him. Whether it was the truth or not she couldn't say because she had had no such conversation with the girl, but his feeling about her had just made her lie believable and had closed the deal on the girl.

"Well, she can't stay here." Max said. "I'm not going to have that kind of thing going on in my club. I'm in trouble enough here and I'm not going to let Vivian make it worst. I've got to go talk to her."

He stood and so did she.

"Max I'm sorry." She said in Ernest.

"No, Rachel, don't apologize." He said. "Thank you for telling me. I need to know this. I'm not going to say that you said anything, but I need to confront her about it."

"I understand. And thank you for keeping me anonymous. I have a feeling she could kick my ass in a heart beat."

That got a smile from him and she was glad to see it.

"Please excuse me, Rachel. I don't want this to go on any longer than it has to. I'm going to take care of it right away."

"Go ahead. I've got to go get dressed anyway." She said.

He walked out of the door and she was left standing in his office alone. She let out an exasperated breath and shook her head at the craziness of it all. Not only at what she had just done, accuse an innocent girl of immorality, but also at the whole jumbled mess of this case.

She was facing Jack The Ripper and the time for his next strike was three days away. She had three days to become his sole target and figure out how to stop him. Sam was busy at the motel trying to find out why he was here and what they could do to end this hunt and as far as she could tell Dean's role in all this besides his brains and brutality as a hunter was to torture her with his smile and wit and just over all sexiness.

She sat back down in the chair facing Max's desk and went over their conversation the night before. Him asking her if his presence was getting to her and her denial of it. He'd called her a liar right to her face and she was mortified now in the light of day that she hadn't denied it more vehemently. He knew how to get to her and it crossed her mind that maybe she wanted him to catch on to it. Maybe she was sabotaging herself on purpose to Dean Winchester.

She rubbed her temples as the thoughts shifted in her brain and slumped back down into the large leather chair to just rein in her frazzled brain for a moment. In order to distract herself she took in the sights around Max's office again. Always amazed at how many treasures he chose to keep on hand.

Most of the guns and knives where encased in glass on the walls and as she looked them over she wondered if hunters had used any of them. Max had said once that they where mainly from war periods but she wondered how many where used in the wars that most of humanity had no idea was going on. The kind that she and the Winchesters where soldiers in. The secret war currently going on right under his nose.

It was during these thoughts that Rachel first noticed the knife.

Hanging right over the fish tank behind Max's desk she looked at it and frowned. It was 7 inches long from tip to butt, curved like a chefs knife and maybe 3 inches at widest point just before the blade disappeared into the tang which was encased in the dark brown wood handle.

Her heart began to pound and she held her breath as she sat up slowly from the chair. She had seen that blade before. Even as she tried to tell herself that she was crazy and there was no way, she knew. The last time she had seen that blade it was clutched in the hand of a ghost. She could see it all in her mind again. The aged brown wood, slightly splintering, the steel blade which was no longer shiny but still wickedly sharp.

Slicing into the tender flesh of her throat as she screamed. Poised above her by pasty dead hands, ready to be plunged into her heart.

This one belonged to an English prince...Max's voice echoed in her head from the first time she'd been in this office and had noticed his impressive collection.

She remembered to breath as she took the few steps around the desk to stand face to face with the thing once more. Close enough that her breath fogged the glass slightly, she peered in and saw the last confirmation she needed.

Blood.

Two tiny dried drips on the inside of the glass. So small only the closest inspection would find them. But blood nonetheless. More of it on the edge of the blade. The part that cuts. Small specs of dried brown that could easily be mistaken for rust at a quick glance.

She wondered if it was from the last victim. Or maybe it was her own.

Not able to turn her head from the weapon she fished her phone out of her back pocket and dialed with just her fingers. Bringing the phone to her ear she heard it ring twice before the deep voice answered with a monotone 'hello.'

"Sam. It's me." She said. "I found it."