April 7th

Cassie drove Tom to the airport Friday after work so that she could use his Mustang while he was gone. She wished he would get over his fixation with his high school sweetheart. There was no future in a relationship with a mobster's daughter. Not for a cop with his tarnished reputation. He'd always be on IAB's radar.

"Enough with the I told you so talk," Cassie said, rather than what she was thinking. "I'm not giving up. I will make them pay to have my car fixed if it's the last thing I do."

"Good luck with that. Just don't wreck the mustang between now and Monday night." He said. He was teasing. She was a good driver. The accident hadn't been her fault.

"Do you need me to pick you up at the airport?" She asked.

"Only if Maura has to stay longer. She says that things are going well so she might be able to come back with me." He said. "I'll call and let you know before I get on the plane. If not I'll just pick up my car at the office on Tuesday morning."

"Tom… you'd tell me if there was something important, right?"

"Absolutely, why do you ask?"

"You've been kinda distant the last couple of days." She said.

"I've just had a lot on my mind."

"Those idiots Patterson and Clark?" She asked.

"In part." He said honestly. "It's a lot of things. We'll talk more when I get back, I promise."

"Tom-"

"It's nothing bad. You don't have to worry about me, Cassie."

"I'll always worry about you." She said as she pulled up to the front entrance of the airport. She loved him. Even if it hadn't worked and she was pretty sure it would never work, she still loved him, and she was positive he still loved her. "Have a good time." She told him as he got out of the car and took his suitcase from the back seat.

"It's the French Quarter. Just walking down the street is a good time." He said with a grin. Other college students came to Florida for spring break. Tom had gone to New Orleans to avoid the influx of insanity. It was one thing to travel TO a party site, it was another to have it show up on your doorstep uninvited.

An hour and a half later Maura was waiting for him at Louis Armstrong international airport.

"You look exhausted." She said as she hugged him tightly. She had missed him. It had only been 5 days but she had missed him from the moment she'd gotten on the plane.

He laughed "Thanks a lot." He said. "You look beautiful as always." He kissed her forehead. "But yeah, I'm exhausted."

"Then let's get to the hotel and we'll order room service then get you into the jacuzzi."

"There's a jacuzzi?" He asked. "God that sounds like heaven. You're spoiling me."

"You've got that look again." She said, " I'm starting to figure out what it actually means though."

"And what's that?" He asked. It was never good when your lover said they had figured something out about you. In his experience, they never got it right and you could never convince them they got it wrong.

"It's the look you get when you have to tell someone something that you don't know how, or don't want to say."

"I thought I was the detective." He said as they began walking toward the exit. Okay, so she wasn't wrong. This time.

"Of course you are. If I was a detective I'd have figured out that look before now."

"Believe me it's not always that easy," Tom said. He wished it was. Then they'd have caught the serial killer by now.

Even at that time of evening traffic was terrible and they didn't get to the hotel until an hour had passed.

"Okay. Change of plans. Food can wait. Into the tub with you." She said, seeing how stiffly he moved. "Your arm is bothering you."

He shrugged "a little, it's not bad. Come with me into the jacuzzi " He said.

"That's the best offer I've had all week." She said with a smile. She went into the bathroom and started the tub filling. "What are you afraid to tell me?"

"It's not afraid exactly." Tom said "Not even really reluctant. I just don't know how to say it." He began to undress.

"Just … say it. " She said as she too began to undress. "I know that's probably not helpful is it." She said.

He laughed a little "Yes and no." He got into the tub sighing in pleasure at the hot water. Once he was settled she climbed in after him. She turned around and rested her back against his chest. He closed his arms around her.

"Is everything okay at work?" She asked turning the water off with her foot and pressing the button to start the jets.

"Yes and no." He said. "It's good as far as Cassie and Harry are concerned. Cassie has always been critical of what I do. So that's not really any different. It just feels like it right now but we're good."

Maura had several things she could say about Cassandra St. John but she knew better than to do so. Tom was loyal to a fault to everyone he cared about. Especially his ex-wife. It was his defining character trait as far as Maura was concerned. It was one of the things she loved about him. But that meant that she had to hold her opinion in check sometimes, especially when it served no real purpose.

" This case is making me crazy" Tom continued "but that doesn't bother me as much as it sounds like. It always gets crazy making right before we find that last piece of the puzzle. That's not the problem. It's just… Sometimes people give me that look." He said. "The one that says they know I got away with murder no matter what the official story is."

"That has to be rough." She said. She was glad that woman was dead. It kept Maura from being tempted to commit murder herself.

"I've been offered a job in another precinct." He said.

"Are you going to take it?" She asked. She sensed there was more to it than a simple transfer. He wouldn't think twice about moving to a different desk in the same building, at least not where she was concerned because It wouldn't change anything where THEY were concerned.

"I'm thinking about it." He said, "The rub is the precinct is in California."

"I see why you weren't sure how to say it." A knot formed in her stomach as she waited for the other shoe to drop.

"I won't take it if you won't go with me." He said. It was his turn to wait. Would she be willing to move to the other side of the country because her lover was running from his mistakes? It's what it felt like. That he was running. But he also knew it was the only real way to salvage his career and his self-respect. He had to get out from under and he never would in Palm Beach. Not really.

Maura thought about it for a moment. Weighing the pros and cons quickly in her head. It would be a complete upheaval of what she'd been working for in Palm Beach. It would be even further from her father and his business. It would be on the opposite coast from his ex. What if …? She shook her head, that thought didn't bear consideration.

"I love you, Tom," She said " But moving literally to the other side of the country is next-level stuff. Are you ready to do that? Really ready? I'll go, but not as your lover who lives across town."

Tom smiled a little. "I love you too." He understood. He didn't have to think long about her words. He'd been forcing himself to wait as it was. He knew it was as much out of pride as the desire not to make the same mistakes all over again. "After we get the house, should we get a dog?" He asked.

"Absolutely." She said with a smile. She turned around and kissed him.

"You are a million miles away." Will said, "Or is it more like 800."

"What?" Cassie asked, "I'm sorry."

"Look, Cassie, I dealt with the ghost of Ryan past when I was your partner. I figured that was normal enough. I don't want to do that as your lover too."

"It's not that, exactly." She said. "Tom and I are never getting back together. We've tried, sort of, I guess. There's just too much water under the bridge. I do still love him and care about him but you don't have to worry about the ghost of Ryan past as you put it, becoming the ghost of Ryan present, and definitely not the ghost of Ryan future. He's my best friend and he's always going to be an important part of my life. I'm just worried about his choices is all. That and I think he's taking this case we're working on a little personally."

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"The women that are being killed, they're all married to these guys who did something they shouldn't have and pretty much got away with it. Even though that shooting he was involved in was eventually deemed a clean shoot I think he's identifying with the husbands a little too much."

"I guess that's normal. He probably feels guilty as hell." Will said.

"He didn't do anything wrong," Cassie said firmly. "Well, the shooting itself wasn't wrong. There was a gun. Going off on his own to investigate when told to stay put, was wrong I guess. But that's over now. He has nothing to feel guilty for."

"Is that really the point?" Will asked. "Sometimes guilt is more about shame than it is having committed a crime."

"I think you're right. At least where Thomas is concerned." She said. "What I don't understand is why this killer is killing the wives instead of the men that did whatever it was they did."

Will shifted on the sofa to look at her. " He figures that the best way to punish someone is to take what they love the most. Maybe they haven't reformed and he wants to give them an incentive to do so. Sending the message that they'll take everything from them until they do." His tone was uncharacteristically quiet.

"And their wives are the last thing they still care about?" She asked. "Well, I can see that with Arlo Reynolds. He's devastated. Cooper committed suicide so he was definitely feeling punished. I'm not sure Cyrus Elias is capable of feeling anything but rage."

"Some people require more to make them decide to change than others." He said with a shrug. "I just hope for the sake of everyone else in Elias's life that he has moved on to his next target."

"Next target. Don't even say that." Cassie said."We've avoided the phrase serial killer so far but one more kill and there is no denying it."

"Are you denying it now?" Will asked. "I will admit it's hard to believe our two unsolved homicides are turning out to be the work of a serial killer."

" Harry is trying to avoid the public panic and the first time someone at the office says Serial Killer it gets leaked to the press and everyone is suddenly terrified. Can you just see how that would play out in the news? Ladies beware if your husband is a former or current sleaze ball you could be next." She said Politicians' wives will be leaving the state in droves."

Will laughed at that. "Politicians are a lost cause." He said "No one can take enough from them to make them fly right. They'd just turn the tragedy into sound bites to raise more votes. Their wives are the safest in the state."

"Boy is that a sad statement when you think about it." She said and frowned when the phone rang. "St. John." She said as she answered it. It was Harry.

"We have another one." He said sadly. "Get over to Currie Park. The ME is already there. I'll call for an officer to go with you."

"I'm having dinner with Will. I'll take him with me if you don't mind."

"Alright. Good. Call me if you get anything more from the scene than the last three."

"Will do." She said and hung up. " I told you not to say next target. Feel like pretending to be my partner for your sins?"

"Sure. When's Tom due back?" Will asked as he got up and picked up his holster from the table and put it back on.

"He gets back to town Monday night."

"Three-day weekend?"

"Not really," Cassie said as she collected her gun and badge. "Monday he's interviewing someone in New Orleans in connection with this case. We think the killer is either law enforcement or a private investigator. Someone who could know what all of these people have gotten up to but isn't directly connected to any of them." She shrugged "We're hoping this writer out in New Orleans had hired a private investigator or some such to get proof against Cooper. If he did then it's at the very least one more lead than we have now."

"Really? I guess that makes sense." Will said.

They arrived at the park 20 minutes later. Morton was already loading the body into the wagon.

"I don't have anything new to tell you, other than it's going to take forensics most of tomorrow to process the scene." Dr. Sterling Morton said. "She was found in the sandbox."

Cassie swore. " Great. Things like this just make me more convinced that our killer was at some point on the job. It's like he knows how to sanitize everything without making it look sanitized."

"Sand is hard to sanitize," Will said. "Maybe he screwed up this time."

"God I hope so." She said and looked around the crowd looking for the other police officers. She spotted a patrolman and approached. She showed him her badge. "I'm Sgt St. John, This is Sgt Adams. Were you the first on the scene?"

"Yes." The patrolman said, "We got the call on the radio to check out a possible body here at the park."

"Were you able to speak to the person who found the body?" Will asked.

The patrolman shook his head "No. There was no one here when we got here."

"Thank you." Will said and as they walked away "I guess we need to get hold of dispatch."

"And hope that they were able to get a name and contact information from the caller," Cassie said. "Here goes my weekend." She grumbled.

"Maybe Ryan will make it up to you later," Will said. "Like next weekend."

"Next weekend?" She asked.

"I'm thinking maybe we could go away for the weekend. Somewhere without cell phone reception."

"I'll think about it." She said with a smile. She liked him. A lot. She had enjoyed making love to him. But she wasn't sure he was going away for the weekend material. Not yet. It just didn't feel right somehow. She was trying to listen to those instincts. Too many Mr. Rights that was turning out to be Mr. Wrong once she fell in love. "Let's find out what we can about the person who found the body so we can head back to my place. Unless you'd rather go to yours."

"Lady's choice."

April 10th

The weekend had been magnificent. After that first night, he didn't talk shop at all, and it had felt good to walk away from it all for just those two days. They had spent the time making plans for the move and talking about what they both expected when living together. Tom was feeling better about the transfer. He just hoped he could help solve this string of murders before he left.

Sebastian Graham had agreed to see him Monday morning at 11:00. Tom arrived a little before that. The author lived in the Old Metairie neighborhood which was close to the French Quarter and thus easy to find. He rapped on the door at precisely 11:00.

He was let inside by the housekeeper and led into the parlor where a man not much older than Tom was seated.

"You must be Sgt. Ryan." Graham said as he got to his feet to offer his hand. He was a portly man. He reminded Tom of the descriptions of Nero Wolf. He was larger than life as well as physically large. He was impeccably dressed and fastidious. His voice was bombastic.

Tom shook his hand "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Mr. Graham."

"Please call me Sebastian. Have a seat."

Tom took a seat and took out his notebook.

"So Ray committed suicide? I'm sad to hear that. We used to be friends. That's how he got his hands on my manuscripts. I was pretty pissed but a death sentence seems a bit extreme for theft."

"It's more complicated than that. His wife was murdered."

"My god." He said. "I don't know how I can help you with a murder committed in Florida." He shook his head stunned at the news.

"I know you knew who had taken your manuscripts, but you would have had to have some sort of proof to get that impressive settlement. Did you hire a private investigator?"

"I did," Graham said. "I've got his card somewhere. He's based out of Florida."He thought for a moment. "His name is Adam Something unremarkable. I'll find that card or the bank record where I paid him."

"I would appreciate that," Tom said. "Can you describe him for me?"

Sebastian Graham closed his eyes. "Tall. About your height, give or take an inch or two. Dark hair, longish but well kept. Beard and mustache. Brown eyes, thick brows. Broad shoulders but leanly built. Hawk-like features. Good teeth. Dresses well." He opened his eyes "But with what he charges he should."

"That's … very detailed," Tom said.

"I have a memory for people. Normally I remember names as well. It must have been truly unremarkable. People's names are like a snapshot of their personalities. It doesn't start that way of course. In the beginning, it's about their parents. Maybe they're named after a relative, or their mother's favorite actor or flower. But you grow up. You become a Tom instead of a Thomas or a Tommy. Or maybe you hate your name so you go by Ryan instead. Keeping that first name hidden like a dirty secret or something sacred you only give to your lovers. But no… in your case you're at ease with who you are, you're not reinventing yourself. You just grew into your name. It's not an extravagant name. But it isn't unremarkable. It's unusual that someone's name is unremarkable to me."

Tom thought that entire statement was something Sebastian Graham had rehearsed in front of the mirror. He wondered if that was one of his favorite paragraphs that an editor had made him remove from one of his spy novels. "Is that your way of saying you think it was an alias?" Tom was unimpressed.

Sebastian smiled. "Very good, Detective." He said as though his praise was something Tom should treasure.

"I'd still like to have that business card." He said.

"Of course." He said. He slowly and laboriously rose from his chair. He left the room and returned five minutes later with a business card. "I'm sorry that took so long. I had almost given up looking for it. I had been using it as a bookmark if you can believe that."

Tom smiled. "You'd be surprised what I use for bookmarks." He said as he took the card in hand. Adam Williams, Private investigator based out of Miami. It looked like there might be another Miami trip in his future. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Graham."

"That's Sebastian to you, Detective Ryan." He said as he walked Tom to the door. "I do hope we'll meet again."

Harry joined Cassie and Will at the lunch table, bringing his salad with him. "So what did you two find out this morning?"

"That forensics has never seen sand so clean," Cassie said sarcastically. "How did this guy have time to clear the sand of everything that wasn't sand and dump the body?"

"Whoever it was that reported having found the body refused to give their name or anything else," Will said. "Currently we're waiting for an ID on the body before deciding if this is the work of our-"

"Don't say it." Harry said "I know- I know that's what we have but just don't say it aloud. Not yet." A serial killer meant panic, it meant FBI involvement, and it meant that there was a monster out there who wouldn't stop killing until he was dead. One that they may not catch for years if ever. "I do not want the press crawling all over this investigation just yet. If this one turns out to be by the same killer we won't have a choice. Until then do not say it out loud."

"Any word from Tom?" Cassie asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "He says don't worry about picking him up at the airport. He has that covered."

"Okay." She said, "What about the guy he went to talk to?"

"He's going to be checking some things out in Miami before coming back. Which is part of the reason you don't need to pick him up at the airport."

"What's in Miami?" Cassie asked.

"The private investigator that Sebastian Graham hired to prove Cooper ripped off his manuscript."

Tom walked into the Blaisdell Art Museum. He spotted a young woman wearing an understated skirt and blouse, sensible shoes, and a name tag. He approached her with a smile. "Hi, I'm Tom Ryan. I'm meeting Maura Palmeri here. Can you tell me where to find her?"

"Sure, right this way. I'll have to let you into the back. She told us you'd be coming." The woman said.

"Thank you," Tom said and let her lead the way. They walked through a set of doors that required a card key and a numbered passcode to go through. The corridor had rooms on either side, and very large tempered glass windows revealing what was within.

Maura was in the room on the right. His view was from above and behind, as the corridor was roughly 8 ft higher than the restoration room floor. The painting she was working on was taller than she was, and half that again in width. It was a stunning seascape, with a lighthouse set against stormy seas and a flash of lightning. She was using a wide brush and applying what Tom assumed was varnish to the painting.

"You can go on in." The woman said as she slid her card into the slot to open the door.

"Thanks," Tom said again and went inside. "What's the verdict, Doc? Will it live?" Tom asked as he walked down the steps.

Maura laughed. "I'm sure it will go one to be a productive member of the art community." She said. "Once I'm through here I will be done with this painting. No need for me to stick around to watch varnish dry."

"I need to go to Miami," Tom said. "I don't know that I should take you with me."

"Why not?" she asked as she continued to work.

"Because the man I'm hoping to speak with may very well be a serial killer." He said, honestly.

"So are you having Cassie meet you there?" She asked.

"Ahm… no." He said.

She looked up from her work. "Any particular reason?"

"No. I'm not going to be in any danger." He assured her.

"Oh then if you're in no danger, it won't be a problem for me to be in the same city while you interview this man." She said, dipping her brush into the varnish once more.

"Maura." He said.

"Yes." She answered, then looked up again.

"Fine. But you're not going with me to the interview."

"Alright." She said "I can wait somewhere nearby and have coffee or something. I still think you should have Cassie meet you there. Does she know about the job offer?" She applied the last bit of varnish and then started to clean things up.

"Not yet. You're the only person I've told. Harry and Rita know. That's it. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure." He said. "So… speaking of security and safety, where are tweedle dee and tweedle dum?"

"I told them to stay in Palm Beach. I'm surprised they listened. They never have before. Where do you want to go for lunch? We should have time before heading to the airport. I'm not sure about flights to Miami but we can figure it out from there."

"I don't know. Antoine's ?"

"Sounds good." She said.

Four hours later, they landed in Miami. They rented a car and Tom drove to a restaurant just off the beach. Some place nice that she'd be comfortable waiting.

"I'll be back as soon as I'm done." He said.

"Alright. What's the address you're going to?" She asked.

"Why do you want that?"

"So that I know where to send the police if you don't come back." She shrugged "Unless you want to call Cassie and wait for her here while we have dinner."

Tom frowned and sighed "You are the only woman I know that insists her lover call his ex-wife."

She shrugged "Well, you're the only cop I know that works with his ex-wife."

"I'm the only cop you know. Having a brief meeting doesn't count." He copied the name and address down for her. "I will call you when I leave there." He said. "I won't be long. Don't hit panic stations for an hour."

"Fine but if you get yourself killed I'm telling Father Frank that it's a suicide."

"Seriously?"

"You're going in to talk to someone you think might be a serial killer without backup. What else would you call it." She said,

"Maura."

"You can't call it Maura, that's my name." She said " Tommy, I know your job is dangerous. I can accept that. But this feels like you're trying to prove something."

"I will be careful. I promise."

"Okay." She said, resigned. "I'll be here waiting." She got out of the car and walked into the restaurant before she could change her mind.

Tom drove to the address on the business card. He wasn't trying to prove anything. Was he? He just didn't want to draw this guy's attention to any of the women in his life. Including Cassandra St. John. A lot of guys still loved their ex-wives. Tom liked her too.

He found himself in a warehouse district. He drove slowly until he found the address he was looking for, but it wasn't an office. It was an empty lot between two sections of warehouses.

He called Harry "It's a dead end. I'm looking at a vacant lot where the office should be."

"Alright. I'll call NOLA PD and see if they can get Graham to talk to a sketch artist."

"Yeah…" Tom said. "Sorry about the dead end, Harry."

"It's not a dead end. This is the first lead we've had. I'll see you here in the morning, Tom."

Tom ended that call and called Maura. "It was a dead end. I'm on my way. See you in a few minutes."

Will smiled. " So you have to give him his car back tomorrow. What's going on with your car?"

"Tom was right. The insurance company says it's totaled the amount they want to give me for it won't cover the repairs or cover the amount I still owe on it." She said, "I hate it when he's right."

Will laughed "No you don't."

"I hate that he's right this time." She said, running a hand through her hair.

"Look, I may know a guy who knows a guy that could work on your car." He said.

"This guy your guy knows… it's not one of your illegal connections is he?"

"Does it matter? He's not doing illegal bodywork." Will said. "He's my CI and he owes me. I can check and see what kind of quote I can get. I just need a copy of the insurance report and the pictures so that he knows what he's getting into."

"He's not running a chop shop or anything?"

"Nah, he's out of that business. In the meantime… if you want I can pick you up and take you home until it's done."

"Yes to the ride to and from work… let me think about the other. I can let you have a copy of the car stuff, go ahead and get the quote, and I'll decide then."

"Okay. Fine by me." He said. "So do you think Tom found a lead ?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll find out in the morning."

"You know there is one good thing about this being a serial killer case." He said.

"There's something good about it?"

"Yeah, it means I wasn't a complete failure as a homicide detective."

Tom and Maura argued through dinner, and they argued through the ride back to Palm Beach. It was the first time they'd argued since the day after the senior prom. He knew it for what it was. She'd been frightened, worried about him, and it made her angry and then her Italian temper slammed right into his stubborn Irish temper and neither of them knew how to back down. They'd both calm down then the heat would rise again. They were both exhausted by the time he parked the rental in front of her house.

"Do you want me to stay, or go home?" he asked.

"I want you to stay." She said.

Tom sighed in relief and got out of the car to go open her door for her. "I'm sorry we fought."

"Me too." She said as they walked toward the front door.

Tom frowned as they got to the door. "Maura, go back to the car." He said, and inclined his head toward the slightly open door.

She nodded and backed away. Tom handed her his phone. "Call Cassie." He said as he drew his pistol.

She did as she was told.

"Hey, Tom." Cassie said into the phone.

"It's not Tom, It's Maura. We got here… my house and the door was open. Tom told me to call you and he went inside," she said.

"Where do you live," Cassie asked getting dressed as she spoke. She repeated the address aloud and motioned for Will to write it down. "We're on our way. Lock yourself in the car, and duck down out of sight."

"Alright… alright." She said. "Please hurry." Maura ended the call and did as she was told.

Tom moved silently through the house. Moving room to room, opening closets and cupboards. He opened the door to the library and paused. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum lay dead on the floor, shot in the head. He knelt and touched the bodies. They were cold and no longer in rigor. He didn't know enough about it to be able to hazard a guess about how long they'd been dead, but chances are it was more than a few hours.

He eased quietly out of the library and went up the stairs, he hated stairs, they always left him feeling like he was hanging in the wind. Slowly, cautiously he continued up the stairs. One by one he went through the bedrooms, the bathrooms, and closets until he was satisfied there was no one in the house.

He headed down the stairs two at a time and then out the front door, just as his mustang pulled into the drive. He went to the rental car and rapped at the window. "Maura, come on out, honey."

She opened the door and got out of the car, closing her arms around him tightly.

He stroked her hair and kissed her temple. " Honey… Moretti and Greco are dead." He told her. "I think we know why they didn't make it to New Orleans."

"Oh god." She breathed.

Cassie and Will approached them, and another car pulled into the drive. Tom moved Maura behind him until he recognized Harry's car. He and Rita got out and joined the crowd.

"What's the situation?" Harry asked.

"Her bodyguards are dead inside." Tom said "In the library."

"How long?" Will asked.

"No clue. Rita, can you take Maura to the precinct?"

"Absolutely." She said and took the keys to the rental car from Tom.

Harry called for the ME and forensics.