"Now wait a minute…"

Standing up from behind his desk, Mike joined both, Steve and Bill at the door to his office.

"What do you mean there's no name?"

"Well, it seems that one of Sergeant Lawrence's Officers signed out the car. It's not back yet and the guy who signed it out is off today, they're trying to get a hold of him to find out who took it…"

Tanner handed the piece of paper over for both, Mike and Steve to study, one hand holding onto the doorframe in a death grip.

"The signature is obscured. You can't make out a single letter. It's just a bunch of curls…who'd even allow that…?", Mike complained and sighed in frustration, before turning back toward his old partner, "Let's ehm…let's keep on going through the rest of the names in the meantime, see what we can figure out. And maybe this piece of paper here will tie into all of it. Thank you, Bill."

The Lieutenant waited until the door to his office was shut once again, before running a tired hand across his face.

"What do you think, Buddyboy?"

Taking a second to glance at the paperwork Bill had left behind, Steve opened his mouth as if to say something, then hesitated and bit his lip insecurely.

"Well, she's taunting you, that's for sure. The fact that she put herself out in the open now to sign out the car, knowing that it will ultimately lead to her identification and indictment…it's…it's very concerning."

"Why do you say that?"

When the young Professor fell silent again, Mike walked up to him and pulled the sign-out sheet from his hand.

"I ask again, why do you say that?"

"It's just…it's a gut feeling, no more nor less. There's no direct evidence that will prove my idea beyond a reasonab-"

"Just say it…please…", Mike reiterated and grasped his old partner's shoulder encouragingly, "I don't care about any case studies or scientific evidence or any of that stuff right now. I just want to you tell me what is whirling around in that mind of yours right now."

Steve nodded slowly, his green eyes filled with terror of what he was about to say.

"I think she's so hyped up on wanting to murder you that she's losing her focus. Now that she knows we're onto her, she's realizing that the proverbial rope around her neck is tightening. She's become careless about the evidence she's leaving behind. And quite honestly, Mike, I think she's setting the stage for a murder-suicide."

Letting go of Steve's shoulder, Mike pursed his lips for a moment and returned to his side of the desk, his eyes drifting back to Wilma's file, knowing deep in his heart that she wasn't their killer.

With his office falling quiet for several long moments, he decided to sit down and lean back in his chair, before intertwining his hands deep in thought.

"When you say murder-suicide, do you think she'll target just me, or would she be bent enough to come up here and try to take out as many innocent lives as possible?"

Obviously uncomfortable with the question, Steve turned around to glance through the glass walls and into the busy bullpen, where more than a dozen detectives and Sergeants were busy going about their daily routine. With one hand scratching his chin, the other one wrapped around his chest for some form of comfort neither man could find at this hour, the young Professor took his time to answer. Mike watched him take a few deep breaths until he finally turned back around and shrugged.

"Without knowing exactly who we're dealing with, she could go either way unfortunately. The sooner we hear back from the motorpool guys on who signed out the car, the sooner I can make a determination. Until then, we should all be on the lookout…just in case."