"Maxine? Hey! It's Jordan.  I just wondered if ya got any leads?" Jordan called from the morgue, wearing the blue surgical outfit that she wore for autopsies.

"Not at the moment."

"Did they all work on the same case at one time or another?"

"Two of them did."

"What kind of case?" This gave Jordan some hope.

"Child molestation. Nothing came of it because the victims were considered too young to testify."

"Pervs like that don't usually pick on people their own size." Jordan said indignant at the injustice done to those kids.. "All we know at this end is that they were all shot in the back of the head by someone taller then them. The police behaviorist can only say the obvious, that it's  someone who got screwed big time by the system, and knows how to track and kill. However, this isn't your typical serial killer."

"How?"

"None of the victims were raped, tortured, or mutilated in any way."

"I see….." Maxine wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement.  "Perhaps it was someone with a case of burnout?" Maxine suggested, remembering the time, when a burnt-out public defender had threatened her daughter, a judge, in the courtroom. "It could be a social worker, lawyer,…..any number of people who work or used to within the system."

"You mean someone could have gone postal? Jordan asked. "People just don't snap like that. The families didn't mention any dangerous enemies." As she finished the sentence, Garrett, wearing a surgical outfit, grimly gave Jordan a new case file, urgently pointing at it. "Hang on a moment." She put the phone on her shoulder.

"There's been another victim. Same M.O." Garrett informed her. Jordan's eyes widened, and she felt guilty for not having solved the mystery. "I gotta go, there's… been new 'developments' on this case. I'll call you later"

"What happened?"

"Jordan said that the methods of the…serial killer are not typical and there's been a 'development' that she must look into." Maxine sighed, as did Max, both realized that 'development' had been Jordan's euphemism for another murder.

"Let's take another go at this" he suggested, both were more determined to  figure everything out.

"I'll need coffee." She mutter, puffing away at a cigarette, in a vain effort to calm herself and ease her guilt.

"I know of a place!"

Soon, they were at Max's bar, the interior was quite nice, with wooden floors. There were bar stools, along with tables and chairs. A myriad of conversations peppered the atmosphere, as did the gushing, and pouring of drinks.

"This is a bar…"

"I've got coffee in the back. Sit here." He pointed to a barstool.

"Okay….."

"I own this place."

"That's nice…." She wryly responded, with a fake smile, putting some files on the bar.

"There you go!" He came back a few minutes later with two cups that had the phrase 'kiss me I'm Irish' in green letters. Maxine drank the coffee with gusto, seeing what the cup said only afterward. She scrawled at Max, who just laughed.

"Let's get back to work" Maxine put on her glasses, which had been hanging in her coat pocket.

"Got any kids?" He wanted to get to know her better.

"Three. You?"

"…It's been just me and Jordan for a long time." Max did not really want to talk about his elder son, whom he had given up for adoption. The issue seemed too painful and complicated.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Antony McDunn,  a friend and the father of one of the victims, carrying some papers.

"Frank…..great to see ya!" he gave his friend a pat on the shoulder, noticing how his old friend's eyes looked dead; life's spark had left along with his daughter.

"Thanks, …….I..still can't believe it….." Like Max, Tony had been widowed since his own daughter was young. His work at the juvenile division of the Boston police department, had inspired her to pursue social work. He also had a son "I thought that TJ would be the one I'd  bury…. him being a cop and all."

"I know……"

"I have something to tell you…..I didn't want to share it before, but at this point, I'm desperate."

"Okay…" Max said softly. "I'd like you to meet Maxine. She was asked to help out in this case. She's a social worker." The two went to the bar.

"Maxine…..this is  Tony, the father of one of the victims."

"I'm sorry for your loss." She told him with great delicacy. "I will do everything I can to help.

"He has some information, that he wanted to share."

"Would you like to go somewhere more private?" she asked.

"How about one of the booths on the far end?" Max suggested.

Soon they were seated there, and began to talk.

"At first I didn't notice, ya know, she always got personally involved with her cases, but..I overhead a……." he paused painfully. "I found out that she got romantically involved with a foster father. They met, when she placed a kid with him."

Both  looked at him with surprise.

"I  had one or two similar cases when I was a supervisor." Maxine commented.

"Did he threaten her in any way?"

"No."

"Does he still live in Boston?"

"Yeah."

"I found some letters from him, here they are, I usually respect my kids privacy as adults, but………" Tony covered his face with his right hand.

"You're only doing what any normal parent would" Maxine said softly, covering the sadness she felt herself.

Maxine and Max both looked at the letters. 

" Nope, this fella was no stalker." Max told them.

"You don't see anything??" Tony asked, desperately. He hoped that his friend's experience as a homicide detective would shed some light on the letters.

"Was he married?" Max asked. "Did he have a girlfriend?

"Nope"

"Do you have any other paperwork?", Maxine inquired.

"Most of the pertinent stuff was taken away"

"Did she place a lot of children with him?" she asked.

"A few, he was licensed for  temp fostering." Tony told her

"Could you give us his address?"

"I got it here" he put a folded piece of lined paper on the table. " I had a friend check out his record; it was clean. If you don't mind, I promised TJ I'd have dinner with him…."

After he left, the two talked about what to do next.

"I've got an idea." Max said. "You go do a random home inspection"

"It doesn't work that way." Maxine told him. "It's the job of the case worker assigned to the child."

"The rules could be different here." He shrugged. "or just say that the case was given to you"

"What if he were to call? Then our ruse would be discovered." She pointed out.

"You could pretend to be the case worker for a neighbor……Look, I'll scope out the neighborhood, and get ya something."

"That sounds better." Maxine was willing to bend the rules, to get to the bottom of this case.

The next afternoon, they went to the house as planned. Max filled her in on the supposed 'case' in his car. She wore a simple blue shirt and skirt outfit.

"There's a ninety  year-old women who lives about two houses down, named Janet Reddington. You can say that….."

"I 've done this many times…….." she rolled her eyes.

"Okay…..stall and ask as many questions as you can."

"And you stay quiet……" She worried that he'd revert to the wrong type of questioning.

"Fine. Did you bring your work I.D?"

"Yes. Not to mention a vanilla folder, and a notebook"

Soon, they arrived, walked up the path, and rang the doorbell. A man in his thirties, with brown hair, and hazel eyes opened the squeaky door.

"Good afternoon. I'm Maxine..Kent. ,the Case worker for Mrs. Reddington. This is my associate Max Connor." She nervously  quickly flashed  her I.D. While she did bend the rules often,  impersonation was not one of her usual methods.

"Did something happen to her?"

"We've…gotten a call."

"I always see her on her porch, or taking walks around the neighborhood."  

"Could we come in….?" Maxine asked gently.

"Sure!" He lead them to  a living room, laden with shades of green and brown. Talking, laughing, and the sounds of the television alerted them to the presence of children.

Sitting on a  love seat, the two discreetly looked around.

"So, she seems well taken care of?" Maxine continued her questioning.

"Yeah."

"Does she often get visitors?"

"Well, a cleaning lady comes in once a week, and her kids visit her as well. I see their cars parked."

Max thought asking where the restroom was, as a way to explore, but soon saw that the presence of the kids would make it hard. Maxine saw this too, and discreetly stopped her questioning and they left.

"Did you notice anything?" Max asked on their way back.

"No."

" Same here, but I could be wrong. Let's go to my bar, see if Jordan's got anything."

As soon as they arrived, Max got her a glass of red wine, and called Jordan from a phone behind the beer fountains.

"How'd it go?" she asked, from a desk at the morgue.

"Nothing……You?"

"I got Nigel to look up the name you gave me. He hacked into some databases, and nothing came up." She paced around the desk.

"Even  the child services one?"

"Yeah. He's considered a foster parent 'par excellence' . Where did you get his name?"

"What about the autopsy?"

"Nothing that you can't figure out by looking at her." She could take a hint.

"Could Nigel get more files about the latest victim, so Maxine could take a look at 'em? Her experience eye might catch something."

"Sure….I'll see what I can do."

With that, they said their goodbyes and hung up.