The normally bustling squadroom was extremely subdued when Logan arrived just past the lunch hour. He waved hello to the detectives who called to him, and headed to his desk, stopping by the empty desks that Goren and Eames normally occupied. He lifted a pen up off the paperwork on Eames' desk, where she had dropped it when they got the call. He slid it into the Santa mug that sat between the desks, where they kept their pens. Picking up a book from Goren's desk, he remembered the first time he'd met the brilliant detective and his partner, back when he was still on Staten Island and they'd been harassing his girlfriend. He turned the book in his hands and, looking at the binding, he smiled. Case Studies in Abnormal Psychology—same psychobabble crap he was always reading. He set the book down and continued to his desk, where he sifted through his inbox. Same stuff that had been there yesterday. Barek appeared at his side. He looked at her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm ok. You hear anything?"

"Not yet. Let's go see the boss."

Deakins looked up from his desk. "Come on in." He looked exhausted. "How are you feeling?"

Logan answered, "Sore, but ok."

Barek just nodded in agreement. "Have you heard anything?"

"Eames woke up about an hour ago. They said she's doing fine, whatever they mean by that. They are going to transfer her from intensive care this afternoon instead of waiting until tomorrow."

"That's good. They tell her about Goren?" Logan asked.

"Her parents told her he'd also been injured but that's it. They haven't let her see him yet."

"How is he?" Barek ventured.

"He's been keeping them busy. They still don't know."

For some reason, the conversation had Logan uncomfortable. "What do we know about the crime scene?"

"CSU are still at it, believe it or not. They are having trouble with the trajectory, since no one died at the scene. They have recovered half a dozen slugs so far and they have an estimated trajectory from the initial impact marks and ricochets. So far, they think it was one shooter, and it looks like he was on the roof of the Museum."

"The Museum? You gotta be kidding me."

"Do I look like I'm kidding? He had a lot of targets…and he hit a lot of them.Our current best guess is that we're looking for a cop-hater. Of course that doesn't narrow things down much."

Logan frowned. He didn't like being a target. "We need Goren so he can tell us where the shooter was, what he was thinking and where we can find him."

Deakins almost laughed. Sometimes it seemed like that was the case. "Officially, the case is ours. Unofficially, every cop in the city wants this bastard." Barek was frowning and shaking her head. "What?"

She shrugged. "How many shots do they estimate were fired?"

"About two dozen."

"The two cops who were killed—how many bullets did they take?"

"One took three and the other, two."

"Where were they?"

"They were near the body."

"And so were Goren and Eames. Together, they took four bullets. And Logan and I were right near them, too—that's three more. That's about half the total number of shots right there. I'd guess the others who were hit were in the same vicinity, weren't they?" Deakins nodded. "That's quite a cluster for a random shooting. There were cops all over the crime scene, not just by the body, but it looks like this guy was focusing on one group in one small area. You have to admit, even at a distance, Goren and Eames are hard to miss."

"You think they were being targeted?"

"Eames was the first one down, but Goren was right behind her, placing her in the line of fire if he was the target. If she was the target, he got in the way after he grabbed her. I don't think we should dismiss the possibility that the shooter was gunning for one or both of them."

Logan shook his head. "Remind me not to stand next to him any more."

"Shut up, Mike," Barek snapped.

Logan shrugged, trying to understand his partner's empathy. She wasn't upset that she got shot. She was upset at how badly hurt Goren and Eames were. Time to change the subject again. "They talk to that couple who found the body?"

"Yeah. They're clean. Honeymooners from Iowa."

"Geez…what a welcome."

"What do we know about the body?" Barek asked.

Deakins picked up a file and shook his head. "Woman, mid-thirties, blonde, Caucasian, no ID."

"ME have a cause of death?"

"Strangulation. Then he took a knife to her flank and sliced into her side. One of her kidneys is missing."

"A kidney?" Logan asked. "He strangled her, then butchered her to take her kidney…after she was already dead?" Deakins nodded. "So it wasn't for a transplant or anything…a souvenir?"

"It looks that way. And there was no blood at the scene, so she was cut up someplace else."

"Well, I know that's one head I don't want to get into. They find any trace?"

"No. And the scene got a little trampled when the shots began."

Logan rubbed his shoulder. "No shit."

Deakins tossed the file onto his desk. "That's all I've got, kids. Take it and run."

As they walked toward the office door, Logan muttered, "Run? Run where?"

Barek replied, "From brick wall to brick wall."