Disclaimer: Cannot stress how much this is a complete work of FICTION. Any RL incidents that reflect/mirror to this story is out of pure coincidence.

Rating: Just to be safe, and since at the moment it's mainly for the language... this chapter alone is verging from PG-13 to an R.

A/N: I wish I had a David Creegan, a Johnny Smith, an Elliot Stabler and a Kris Lemche in my closet... Would make writing this a whole lot easier... actually, it has because I'm drawing such great inspirations from those drool-worthy men mentioned... uh, okay, losing focus... Okay, before I let you enjoy this chapter, I have to let you know that I had to create a name for the church that our (and Helen's) favorite parish priest is in charge of. To be honest, I don't recall them having give the name of the church, so I made one up! Just for the sole purpose of this fanfiction. I also must apologize for any of my incorrect police terminology. I don't apologize for how they act... just the professional words they use on the job. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER FIVE

St. Joseph's Cathedral -- Arcadia -- Maryland

April 15, 2006 -- Saturday

"My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R..."

Both Detective Rita Samstone and Special Agent Jonathan Michaels slowed their steps, especially to regard Detective David Christian with a mixed look of confusion and amusement. It took a couple of steps ahead, and a bar or two from the song, for David to realize that he was about to head into the Catholic church minus his two companions.

He turned around, noticing their inquisitive stares. "What?" Though both remained with an amused grin on their faces, Rita had her arms crossed, while Michaels looked away. David rolled his eyes at them, "Haven't you ever heard that commercial before?"

Rita approached David to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Don't quit your day job, partner."

"Ha, ha." He replied with a dry tone in his voice. David looked over at Michaels, whose knowing smile still remained on his youthful face. With a glare, "What're you smiling about, Junior?"

Michaels replied with a small shrug as he began catching up with the L.A. detectives. It wasn't an answer that David was looking for, which caused the detective to further interrogate the young agent.

"What time did you get back last night?"

"Chris, don't..." Rita glared wearily at her partner. "We don't have time for your bruised macho ego crap, okay? We're on the clock."

David raised his index finger at Rita. "This'll just take a moment, partner." To Michaels, who had his own arms crossed in a calm and expected manner. "You were supposed to be relieved from duty at one A.M. on the dot."

"You mean from the Girardi's residence? Yes, another officer relieved me of my patrolling duties at exactly one in the morning."

"So what time did you arrive back at your hotel room, Junior?"

To David's surprise, Michaels still remained in a relaxed state. Most young men David knew, especially those in such higher positions like Michaels was in, would've begun to show their age. It's not only insulting, but demeaning to be questioned by an inferior a few years older than oneself. If anything, David was surprised that Michaels didn't take offense... or at least he seemed to hide it very well. Despite himself, David was impressed.

"The drive from Euclid Street into downtown Arcadia is around... twenty? maybe thirty minutes depending on the traffic. Throw in the factor that the time was one hour after midnight... There was a parking attendant who saw me driving in between one thirty to one forty-five. Would you like me to obtain his statement so that he could prove to be a valuable alibi in my defense?"

"Are you being smart with me, Junior? Because--"

Rita grasped her partner's arm as she quietly snapped at him. "David." She looked over at the young agent, giving him an equally threatening glare. "Michaels." As she removed her grasp from David, "Both of you, quit it. We have a job to do. Whether you like it or not, we are all working together on this case. Which means whatever this is between you two has got to stop. I am not going to have petty male rivalry screwing up this investigation. Keep in mind that this case won't be the only thing that could get fucked with... we're also talking about an innocent young woman's life!"

She took a breath as she regarded the two men. David turned his gaze away while Michaels gave a small nod in agreement. Rita pointed at the looming cathedral ahead of them. "See that church?" She then acknowledged the police squad car parked a few feet away. "See the RMP? According to Roebuck, who had received a call from an officer that was duty, there was a break-in reported early this morning that would be of interest to us. Can we go inside and at least try to play the role of investigators... or do I need to put you both in your kiddie corners to think about your actions?"

Before any of them could reply, Rita's cell phone began to ring. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she rolled her eyes and reached for the phone. While she turned her back to face them, Michaels smiled amusingly as he turned to David. More like a statement than an inquiry, "She likes to take control of situations..."

With a pat on the shoulder, David quipped, "That's because she wears the pants in this family, Junior."

"Okay Will," They heard her speak into her phone, which piqued David's interest. Rita faced the two men once more, tossing them a glance while holding the conversation. "We'll be en route in a few." Rita snapped her phone shut as she began, "There's a situation over at Girardi's. Looks like our killer had paid them an early morning visit."

Both David and Michaels shared a tense look of concern. "What do you mean? And is Joan okay?" David asked.

"Joan's fine. Will explained that his family's a bit shaken up because there was a box left on their front porch that has The Slayer's name written all over it. He's aware that Roebuck had sent us to investigate the St. Joseph's break-in, but he's asked if we could stop on over quickly before he has forensics taking the box in for fingerprints."

Michaels's face revealed a hint of trouble, which caused David to twist his original "What happened to the officer on patrol?" question to... "Michaels, did you see anything suspicious last night that you've might have forgotten to let us in on?"

"David." The detective ignored Rita's weary glare, instead opting to focus on Michaels's reaction to his accusation.

"Well," Michaels thoughtfully gazed skywards before answering with a nonchalant, "Not unless you account a pair of sneakers dangling off a lamp post a few blocks away from the Girardi's house as suspicious..."

"Hey!" Rita snapped once more, causing both men to take a literal step back. More calmly, "Kill each other on your own time, okay? If you two don't mind, I have a plan. We should split up and meet back at the station house in an hour. David, you and I are covering St. Joseph's. Michaels, think you can respond to the porch incident on your own?"

David seemed slightly offended as he crossed his arms and smirked. "Crack a whip, why don'tcha, partner? Junior gets an option while I get an order?"

Returning his smirk, "Why use a whip when I can just give a tug on your lease?"

He ignored Michaels's knowing smile and opted to reply to the woman's snicker. With an exaggerated, yet sarcastic laugh, "Ha ha! Cute!" David's face became deadpan as he then added a "Not funny."

Before they had a chance to protest, David began walking away from them and heading back towards the cars. He heard Rita call out to him, thus he turned around if only to continue walking backwards. "I will cover the Girardi's end of things while you two make your spiritual confessions! We'll meet back at the APD headquarters." David spun back around as he tossed a backhanded wave towards them. "Tell the big G Kahuna I said Aloha!"

Rita, used to David's antics, merely shook her head. She gazed over at Michaels and was a bit surprised to see him with a mildly amused look rather than, how most others would react, gawking exchange. Lightly explaining her partner's behavior, "He has this... this thing with..."

Michaels turned his head, giving her a raised glance. This caused Rita to slightly fluster, despite having been used to giving the same explanation. There was just something about the way Michaels was looking at her that was throwing her off. It wasn't an unsettling look... just different. Finally, "He has this thing about... against... organized religions..."

"Well," Michaels began as he started on towards the main entrance of St. Joseph's. As they began walking in sync with one another, he replied with a lazy grin, "Wouldn't he be surprised, then, to realize that we might have something in common."

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Rita reached into her coat pocket, pulling out her notepad. They were patiently waiting in the hallway area near the entrance of the rectory. Inside the main congregation, two officers were still interviewing the parish's priests. She glanced up to regard Michaels, who had his arms crossed in a casual manner and was leaning against one of the church's inner pillars. Rita took note of the bemused look in his eyes as he began to silently take in his surroundings. It was then that she recalled his words before they had entered St. Joseph's.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow to acknowledge her request. With a half smile and a small shrug, "Depends..."

Despite his casual demeanor, there was something about Michaels that began to intimidate the hell out of her. Maybe it was the way he steadily held onto her gaze, which caused a part of her to lock on to it as well and refuse to let go. Rita parted her lips when within a split second later she held her voice back. After a second's pause, "Do you believe in God?"

He shook his head though his reply was "That's not the question you wanted to ask me." Michaels's eyes looked upon her with a glint of accusation.

Genuinely surprised and confused, "What?"

Michaels, who had one foot up against the pillar, kicked himself off to straighten up. Still leaning, his arms crossed and a knowing smile on his face, "You hesitated. You wanted to ask me a question about my personal beliefs, but to avoid being PC you opted for the safer route."

Rita's face gave way to a small, yet guilty, smile. She gave a silent nod, which prompted Michaels to continue. "In any case, off the record, I don't have any religious preferences."

"Do you believe in God?"

"I believe in humanity." He simply replied. "The goodness that's possible in every human being. And I am aware of how naive and idealistic it sounds, but... with all due respects, that's what I believe in."

Rita sadly looked away before turning back to face him. Her voice was laced with a tinge of remorse as she said, "Well, Agent Michaels, if you're planning on staying in this particular line of work... I hope to God you hold on to such beliefs. This job... what we see out there... it makes even the best of us wonder what's left of humanity there is to protect."

Michaels observed her shift in behavior. Changing the subject a bit, "If you don't mind me asking, what about you? What do you believe in?"

Surprised, "What do I believe in? Like... God?"

He replied with a shrug though still looking at her with eyes that seemed to tell her that no matter what her answer is, he'll see the truth.

Rita bit her lower lip and looked away, silently contemplating her response. To be honest, she wasn't quite clear as to the answer herself. One on hand, she didn't consider herself as a religiously devote "Sunday church goer." On another, there are times when she did believe in some kind of "Higher Power." However, there are also times -- most particularly on the job -- when she'd question on such "Almighty" existence. Despite her conflicted views, there was something comforting in the knowledge that she wasn't the only one feeling that way. Rita knew, despite David's own avoidance of said issues, that her partner was just as troubled.

Michaels broke her quiet contemplation, causing her to look at him as he began speaking. As if reading her mind, "It's hard isn't it? One moment you'll consider believing in something powerful... from seeing the beauty of a child being born to observing a natural majesty like a clear starry night..." His voice then took a shift from quiet awe to hardened dismay and remorse. "But then guns go off, children get murdered, blood is spilled and you wonder... If God is supposedly a 'father'; why is He letting this happen?"

A quiet fell upon the two as they allowed Michaels's words to sink in. Rita couldn't explain it, but she began to feel numb upon hearing his monologue. As if there seemed to be a hopelessness if Michaels himself began doubting. It was his eyes, Rita however observed, that gave cause for her not to worry. Despite his troubled words, his eyes seemed to hold a spark of redemption and even hope.

The doors to the congregation hall suddenly opened and a uniformed officer stepped out. The officer, who held the same youthfulness as Michaels, gave an acknowledged nod to them. He walked towards them and despite his professional stance, the young man slipped a small smile their way. "Morning. I'm Officer Logan. You must be..."

"Detective Samstone. That's Agent Michaels."

"The chief radioed in. Saying that you'll be taking over this particular investigation?"

With her notepad in hand, "It depends, officer."

Caught off guard by her reply, "On what, ma'am?"

Michaels answered for Rita, "Whether or not this routine break-in has anything to do with a particular case that we're working on."

Before Rita could ask for the details, the two investigators were surprised -- Rita more so than Michaels -- by Logan's soft snicker. Verbally making note of it, Logan began explaining himself by opening the main doors and leading them inside.

"Agent Michaels, trust me... there isn't anything routine about this break-in."

"Who's the RP?" Rita asked as Logan gave a nod towards the front half the church. At his partner, who was questioning a man sitting in a pew with his back facing the approaching officers.

"A Father Ken Mallory runs this parish and he's the one that made the call."

Rita nodded towards the man in the pew. "That him?"

"Yes, ma'am. My partner, Officer Lemche, is interviewing him right now on his whereabouts last night."

Michaels took note of the yellow police tape circled around the church's alter. As he observed the scene, his demeanor began to shift between anger and exasperation. He started to make his way towards the area, his steps careful and professional despite his shoulders hunched in a tense manner.

Rita regarded Michaels a bit before resuming conversation with officer Logan. Though her eyes were on Michaels, to Logan, "From where did Father Mallory discover the break-in? It's obviously not the main doors because there's no evidence of forced entry--"

Logan shook his head as he cut in Rita's observation. "Mallory's not the one that discovered the break-in, detective Samstone. He's the one that reported the incident."

Michaels, whose gaze was focused on the alter, looked up and locked eyes with Rita, whose own gaze turned inquisitive. Rita looked back at Logan, "Come again."

"According to Father Mallory, at around seven thirty this morning, he was woken up by his colleague, a Father Aramea. It was Aramea, who had made the discovery, that alerted Mallory into calling the police."

Rita stared at Logan, the look of surprise and confusion evident on her face. Her voice a bit hesitant as she asked, "Aramea? As in Father Dean Aramea?"

"Yes... yes, ma'am." Logan glanced from Rita to Michaels, who joined them once more, and back on to Rita. "Do you know him?"

Rita looked down, slightly shaking her head in disbelief. Finally, she gazed up and with a small laugh, "Not as well as my partner, I'm afraid..."

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Home of Will Girardi

April 15, 2001 -- Saturday

Upon arriving at Will Girardi's home, David Christian had to flash his ID at the patrol unit that was currently on duty. He immediately recognized Will's partner, Lt. Williams, walking around the front porch area as they were awaiting for the arrival of CSU to take various preliminary notes and photographs.

"Lieutenant." David called out to Toni Williams, to which she nodded in acknowledgment and began addressing the other officers.

"Let him through, guys."

"The aroma of Starbucks has nothing against the fresh smell of a crime committed in the morning. Am I right or what?" The L.A. detective snickered as he joined Toni's side. "So, besides trespassing on private property, and of course multiple homicides, what else should we prosecute the Slayer with? Bad taste in gift giving? Heard the bastard left a present for our gal Girardi."

It was then that his eyes landed upon the porch area that was taped off from the general public. Dead set in the middle was a cardboard box with a miniature flock of sheep -- six from David's count -- purposely spaced out in various spots and positions. However, it wasn't the box, nor the contents, itself that caught the detective's attention.

David blinked, "Uh... is that box covered with what I think it's covered with?"

With a deadpan expression that would have caused David to laugh were he not involved in such a dire situation, Toni replied, "Fruit punch's not that thick nor that red."

"Nor looking that fresh." David sighed. "Which unfortunate soul was lucky enough to stumble onto this treasure box?"

"The youngest. Luke. His family's trying to get him to come out of his room so that the uni's can take down an official statement. Roebuck's orders much to Will's dismay. The poor kid... Came downstairs to pick up the morning paper, saw the box, saw the blood..." Williams shook her head as a sigh escaped her lips. "Instead of an alarm clock, Will was woken up by the sounds of his son screaming for him."

"A sound no father wants to hear, huh?" David hitched his pant legs to sit in a squat position, for closer inspection of the box without tampering the scene. His eyes were on the red stained flock as he said, "Guess this means we can finally rule out Joan Girardi as a decoy." It took a minute or so for David to finally look away, shaking his head in disgust as he mumbled, "God we're dealing with a sick fucker..."

"You don't have to tell me twice, detective."

As Will stepped outside to join his fellow officers, both David and Toni took note of the man before them and the immediate change of appearance within the last twelve hours. Instead of the normal rough "I'm ready to kick some ass" stance that Toni was used to greeting every morning in the station house, now stood a weary "I don't want to be here" man in Lieutenant's clothing. Will might have been dressed and professionally alert and ready to work, but the haggard look on his face made it seem as if he didn't give a damn and hasn't had a peaceful night's rest in ages. It would've been a completely disheartening and hopeless situation had they not seen the flicker of anger and determination in Will's eyes as they landed on the blood soaked box.

Without waiting to be asked, "Luke, my son, the most logical and most sound in mind... traumatized upon seeing that box covered with blood on our doorsteps. It took a lot of convincing on Helen's part to get him to come out of his room just to relive opening this Pandora's Box for the sake of police procedure." Will momentarily closed his eyes, sighing, "Damn, I need a smoke..." and an image flashed before his eyes.

A recent memory of descending down the stairs earlier that morning, after having heard Luke's cries. Seeing his son's pale and shaken form patiently, expectantly, waiting for him. Saw as Luke gave him this hard look of disbelief before wordlessly turning to kneel down before the bloody package. Before Will had the chance to stop him, verbally or physically, Luke, before the stunned eyes of both his parents and his sister, reached out and gently touched the box. The young man raised his hand, his fingers marked with crimson, and made a remark before calmly heading back to his room.

"It's real."

"What did you say, Will?"

Will blinked his eyes, his son's departing words echoing through his memory like a ghost that wouldn't leave. He had unintentionally spoke those words, but unlike the way Luke had spoken it with an eerie calm, his voice was laced with cold rage. Will turned to face the two detectives before him, the hardness in his eyes unmistakable. "I want the next blood to be spilled coming straight out of that psycho's body. And I want to be the one to make it pour."

Both David and Toni exchanged a concerned, even fearful, look as they regarded this side of Will. Toni always thought that Will was kidding around whenever he'd make cultural jokes about his Italian roots with it's biggest stereotype; The Godfather. However, seeing the fierce determination in his eyes and the murderous tone in his voice caused the detective to think otherwise. David hadn't known Will long enough, but from what he's personally seen and heard, you don't want to mess with Will Girardi the cop. However, David started to realize that you also don't want to mess with Will Girardi the father.

Needing to ease the growing tension, David added, "Well... I want to know is how the hell did The Slayer get past the watchful eye of the rotating officers? We had how many guys staking out your house last night, Girardi?"

"Two. Agent Michaels and Officer Reed. Reed relieved Michaels at around one and was supposed to remain until the end of his shift, which was seven o'clock. Another officer, Smith, was to take over." Toni explained to both Will and David.

"David, did Michaels report any suspicious activities during his watch?" Will asked.

"As much as I hate to admit this, if Michaels took note of anything suspicious or dangerous lurking around... he would have reported it. Off the record, there's something about Michaels that I don't like... but on the record, Junior seems sincerely, maybe -- and this is purely my gut feeling -- even personally dedicated to this case."

Will nodded, "I had a feeling that you didn't think too highly of the agent..."

David shrugged and with a slight smirk, "Who knows... maybe this old timer's just envious of the youth."

"In any case," Toni interjected, "According to Reed, there was no box to be seen on the front porch when he arrived and when Michaels had departed. The area was pretty much clear." She continued by pointing at the porch light and the lamp post across the street. "And it still would have been impossible to hide such a package from such a straight plain open sight, regardless of the nature of -- or lack thereof -- those two light sources."

"So how the hell did this guy get past an officer on patrol to drop off a package directly in front of my front door?" Will inquired, his voice coming out with a bigger growl of frustration than necessary.

Almost hesitant, Toni began, "There... there was, however, a possible open window of opportunity." Both of the men's eyes were on the Lieutenant as she explained, "At around the end of his shift, and just as Smith was to arrive on scene, Reed had left the post to check on a disturbance nearly a block away, down South, from here. According to Reed, they had both seen something like a light -- maybe a flare gun --going off."

"I would have heard something like that going off. Especially a block away from here."

"Reed had seen some kind of -- to quote -- 'brilliant light' being shot up towards the sky. And since it was only a block away, he drove over to investigate."

David sighed as dreaded realization sunk in. "Please tell me that he didn't leave his post until after Smith took over. "

All it took was for Toni to reluctantly look away, though she started to explain, "Reed radioed Smith, asking for his location and how long he would arrive on scene. Smith replied that he was less than five minutes away." She added a shrug, "Apparently some of us think that five minutes isn't as long."

"Tell me that he found something. Anything?" Will asked, not knowing whether to seethe over the young officer's lack of protocol or hope that it was worth the trouble.

Toni shook her head, "Nothing obvious to the naked eye, that's for sure. Though, Reed was smart enough to look down and possibly make out faint black smudges on the pavement. So as soon as CSU is finished up over here, I'm sending them down the street."

"Think it could be gun powder residue?" David asked, his eyes once more descending upon the crimson package. He once more bent into a squat position as he began studying this little "present."

"We won't know until the ballistic reports come in." Was Toni's reply.

"In the mean time..." David started, "Let's try this again. One o'clock, Michaels left and Reed took over. Things were fine and dandy on the Girardi front until a few minutes before seven. Reed sees the light, radio in Smith, who's only less than five minutes away, and Reed takes it upon himself to desert his post in an attempt to contact 'The Mothership.' Will, what time did Luke discover the box?"

As if piecing the puzzle right along with David, "At around the same time that Reed left his post. Around seven. Every Saturday around seven AM, for the past few weeks, Luke has been the one to pick up the morning paper."

Toni followed suit. "So once Reed was gone, the box was dropped off and barely a few minutes after that..."

"I wake up to the sounds of my boy's desperate cry."

David stood back up, stretching a bit as his eyes began to canvas the area around them. As he regarded the neighborhood, "First thing's first, let's get both the forensics report on the blood and hopefully even some fingerprints if it's possible, as well as the ballistics report on the mysterious smudge on the road. Secondly..." David turned to Will, his voice steady and professional despite his question, "Where's the paper?"

"What?"

With a slight nonchalance, "Do you have this morning's paper?"

"Detective," Will began, his voice in disbelief, "I didn't exactly have time to read the latest Front Page Headlines. I actually had more important things to worry about than a Saturday's edition of the Herald."

"What I'm asking, Will, is if Luke saw the box after he had gotten the paper or before. Because if I were him, if I had seen that bloody mess before picking up the newspaper, all thoughts of this week's news Headline would've been out the door."

"He didn't have anything in his hands prior to..." Will briefly shuddered, "I didn't see any paper in his hands. So I'm assuming that he didn't have the chance to pick it up."

"Right. So the paper would have been left and forgotten on the yard... or the front porch..."

Realization dawned on both Toni and Will as to what David was proposing. Noticing that there wasn't any newspaper left untouched on the grass or on the porch itself, Toni started to dial her cell phone. To the men, "I'll call the Herald and ask them who was assigned to this deliver route."

David glanced behind him and towards the closed front door. His voice was sympathetic as he asked, "How's Joan doing through all this?"

Will looked over at David before turning away to regard the quiet neighborhood. With a mixture of unease and relief, "Honestly..." Will glanced down, shaking his head as he nervously laughed, "I don't know. I mean, this morning she was terrified for Luke. We all were, actually. We've never seen him in such a state of shock before... not even on the night of Kevin's accident." He looked back up at David, "After a while, Joan started to take charge of things while Helen tried to talk to Luke. She never said much. Never really noticed much of a reaction..." Will paused, then added as an afterthought, "Though, she has asked for Michaels."

David blinked, both surprised and mildly bemused by this. He nodded, "Before I left St. Joseph's, I had told Rita and Michaels that I would meet them afterwards at the station house. Y'know, to compare notes and all... But I'm sure they won't mind stopping by over here." With a small laugh, "Don't tell me your daughter has taken a liking to Junior."

For the first time since this morning's incident, Will had allowed a good nature laugh. As a snicker escaped his lips, "Just what I need, huh? It's bad enough my daughter has a boyfriend and an ex who happens to still be her best friend... but now a Government Agent that's nearly a decade older than her?"

David added with a smirk, "What's the greater of two evils; three different men or one psycho killer?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, David quickly cursed himself as the shared laughter began to fade. With a meek cough, "That wasn't funny..."

Will replied with a deadpan expression, despite the bemused look in his eyes, "No, it wasn't."

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