Disclaimer: I do not own the wrestlers and the McMahon's in this story, they do own themselves last I checked. I do not wish to get sued plus even if I did, I don't have anything of value, so go ahead then make my day.

A/N: here's an update to this story that got lost in the shuffle, hope there are some of you out there that still enjoy it. Thanks again for all the reviews!

"Let him go chief. I want him to lead us to who really did all of this."

"You want me to override my gut instinct and just let a possible serial killer go? Is that what you're telling me damn it?"

"I know it sounds bizarre alright, but he has to know who did it by now, or hell if we let him go we get his partner. He didn't do this and that is what my gut is telling me."

"You know something Williams? You are a lot more like Bret then either one of you could admit. He did the same thing to me earlier. He said he knew Vince didn't do it. If I give you this you'd better bring me back a killer."

Nodding his head and letting the Chief go back into the interrogation room, he suddenly felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He was slowly getting closer but he didn't think the killer would like that too much. He just had to make sure he didn't get himself killed.

Grabbing the envelope and putting it in his pocket he made his way down to the lab. He had to get this piece printed and checked and he wanted to see what was dropped at Havermann's murder. It was damn time to catch a killer.

He saw the lady dressed all in blue, her long hair perfectly aligned around her shoulders. He found himself wanting to put his hands around her throat and choke her, so she could stop saying the words.

"WWE President Vincent Kennedy McMahon has been released from custody at the New York Police Department at this hour. We still have not received word if Vince helped them with who shot world famous Detective Bret Havermann. More from the scene and here at the Police Department at 11."

He couldn't believe it. Vince should have been behind bars now. The police department had wanted a killer and he had delivered them one. So why in the hell were they letting him go? Could they possibly be on to him already?"

"The bracelet isn't cheap, it's made of pure gold. Possibly made outside of the United States. As far as prints go, we got one set and a partial that doesn't match anything in our system. You ready for the results Williams?"

"I'm ready for anything." Dave said surveying the bracelet trying to place where he had seen it before.

"The first set of prints belongs to a Christopher Irvine. He had some outstanding parking tickets in Canada as well as a DUI from right here in good old New York State. It looks like you might want to talk to this guy as soon as you can."

"Seems like I had better. If he shot Havermann I'm going to make the bastard pay. Listen, can you work on these cuff links for me and let me know by phone what you find? My cell number is in the file on one envelope. Also try and match the initials with someone."

"Will do boss. What are the initials?"

"J.P."

"Any idea what it could mean Dave? Not one sweet clue on my end to tell you the truth. Nothing has come up in these cases with those letters before now."

"Well hopefully you can pull the prints and it will tell me a story on who JP really is."

"I hope so buddy, I really do. I want this sick bastard caught as much as you do."