Logan placed his hand on the door to push it open, but Barek grabbed his sleeve. She gently knocked. He looked at her. "It's not a hotel. What do you think they're doing in there?"

"Nothing, idiot. It's a matter of respect."

She pushed the door open. Eames looked up from where she was reading. Goren was asleep. She set her book aside. "Hi, guys. How's it going?"

Barek nodded toward Goren. "How is he today?"

"They said he had a rough night. He tried to do too much yesterday."

Logan frowned. "That wasn't our fault, was it?"

"No. He's just anxious to be back to normal so he's pushing it."

"Normal?" Logan asked with a grin. "Normal is something Goren has never been."

Eames just glared at him. Barek said, "Ignore him, Eames." She looked pointedly at her partner. "That's what I do."

Eames got up from her chair and moved her partner's untouched dinner tray from the tray table to the sink. Logan put a stack of files on the table.

Awakened by the voices, Goren stirred. He took a deep breath, coughed a few times and groaned. Eames looked worried. "You ok, Bobby?"

He nodded, waiting for the pain to subside. He pressed the button on the armrail to raise the head of the bed up some more. "How are you feeling?" Barek asked him.

"I'm ok. What's going on?" He nodded toward the files.

His voice was hoarse, and Logan and Barek exchanged concerned frowns. Logan said, "Well, aren't we all business?" He nodded at the tray on the sink. "Recovery 101, Goren. You need to eat. We'll wait."

The big detective frowned. Logan slid the files to the side of the table as Eames handed him the tray. He set it on the table and Barek rolled it into position. Logan took the top off the main plate. "Cold chicken. Yum."

Goren glared at him until Eames touched his shoulder. "Just eat, Bobby."

Logan said, "Hey, it's not broth." He sat down next to his partner. "Sorry we're so late. It's been a busy day."

"Any progress on the case?" Eames asked.

"Some. The bastard is stepping things up. There was another shooting last night."

Goren frowned darkly and stopped mid-bite. "Same MO?"

"To the letter."

Barek said, "Different museum, that's all."

"Another museum," he said with a frown. "Which museums has he used?"

"The Museum of Natural History, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Cooper-Hewitt and the Jewish Museum."

Goren turned inward, as Eames had seen him do many times when he was thinking, searching for a connection, a clue. His voice was low, speaking to himself, ordering his mind to help search for the thread that would bring it all together. "The Met is at 82nd, The Cooper-Hewitt is at 91st, and the Jewish is at 92nd, all along Museum Mile. Natural History is across the park at 79th on Central Park West. He's moving north. Natural history, art, design and architecture, ethnic history…"

Logan shook his head in amazement. "He's a walking guide book."

Goren stopped muttering and looked at him. "Ok, Logan, let's hear your ideas."

"I never said I had an idea. I…"

"Ok, boys, that's enough," Barek interjected.

Shifting subjects, Goren asked, "Was anyone hit?"

"Yeah," Logan answered. "But no fatalities. I don't think he's realized we're wearing armor yet."

"So what's different about this one?"

"Finish eating and I'll tell you."

Eames said, "Patience is not one of my partner's virtues, Mike."

Logan barely suppressed a smile. "Then he better eat. He can kick my ass when he gets out of here."

"I just might," Goren grumbled. He finished his dinner, then leaned back and glared at Logan.

Eames moved the tray off the table as she said, "That's not a good look, Mike. You'd better tell him what's going on."

Goren switched his glare to his partner. He wasn't in much of a mood to be teased. "Cut it out, Eames."

"Geez, you're grumpy."

"Yeah, well, waking up to Logan can do that to you."

Both female detectives laughed, and Logan frowned at them. "I'm so glad we amuse you." He got up and sifted through the stack of files. Pulling out a file, he pushed it toward Goren. "All four shootings took place at night. Last night, we saw flash."

Eames walked around to look at the scene photos with Goren. "So our boy isn't smart enough to use a flash suppressor at night."

"But he is smart enough to take off when he sees a shitload of cops charge across the street and into the building he's on top of. I've never had to break into a museum before. And…" He paused for effect. "He left his weapon behind."

Goren's frown deepened. "That makes no sense."

"Hey, I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. He panicked." Goren turned his attention back to the pictures and Logan went on, "Ballistics matched the rifle to the slugs and the casings from all four shootings."

Eames asked, "Was the rifle registered?"

"Yeah, but it's bogus. Address is a vacant lot in the Bronx."

"Let me guess. Social security, DMV, credit…all came up empty."

"Bingo. You've done this before."

Goren looked up at him. "Was the purchase on the up and up?"

Barek pointed to the file. "Paperwork's in the file. Looks legit."

"He had to have some kind of ID. Where was it purchased?"

"AJ's Sporting Goods, up in Queens," she said.

Anticipating Goren's next question, Logan said, "No, we haven't been there yet. And yes, it's on our 'to do' list for tomorrow."

"What are they doing about the museums?"

"You mean besides panicking? What the hell can they do? No one knows what the guy looks like and they won't shut the museums down. They've got all the stairwells under lock and key and the elevators locked off from roof access. Unless this guy is beaming on and off the rooftops or climbing the walls like Spiderman, he's not getting up there. And besides, he's not targeting their patrons. He's just gunning for us."

Goren turned to the pictures of the victim. He ran his hand through his hair in angry frustration. Another woman dead. He slammed his hand down on the tray table, causing the other three detectives to jump. Only Eames understood, as she always did. "It's not your fault, Bobby."

"Four women, Eames. Murdered and butchered. We've got to stop this guy before any more die."

Logan swore. He had not expected Goren's anger. "Maybe I better take that file before you get any further into it, Goren."

"Why?"

Logan looked at Barek, who shook her head and sighed heavily. She looked at Goren and Eames. "Before you get to the ME's report…this last victim was pregnant."

Eames closed her eyes and looked down at the floor. Goren leaned back into his pillow and looked at the ceiling. "I need to get out of here," he said evenly.

"Bobby…" Eames started, stopping when he looked at her. She did not like the look in his eyes. Without looking at the other detectives, she said, "Maybe you guys should go for a walk."

"Right," Logan agreed. "C'mon, Barek. Let's go get coffee."

As soon as they left, Eames slid up onto the bed beside him, facing him, and laid a hand on either side of her partner's face. "You listen to me, Goren. None of this is your fault and I'm not going to have you owning this. Let it go. We'll get this bastard. But you are not leaving this hospital before you're ready. This has been hell, for both of us, and I will not let you backslide for any reason. When you're ready, then you'll leave, but not before. Got it?"

He studied her, suddenly fully aware of her hands on his face. The storm faded from his eyes. He rested his hand lightly against her side. "We can't let any more women die, Eames."

"I hate like hell to say this, Bobby, but there's nothing we can do. It's Logan and Barek's case. All we have are these files, but if the answer is here, I know you'll find it. Beyond sifting through these files, there is nothing more we can do. We have no choice. You have no choice."

No choice. He knew exactly what that felt like. "Eames…"

"I mean it, Goren. You are staying put."

To emphasize her point, she placed both hands on his shoulders and pressed him back into the bed. He let her. He knew that determined look only too well. His face relaxed into a smile and he gently pulled her against him. She let him hold her, enjoying the feel of his broad chest beneath her cheek. She shouldn't enjoy it this much...but she did. "Promise me, Bobby. Promise you'll stay put until they say you can leave."

He stroked her hair and placed a gentle kiss on her head. "All right, Eames. I promise."

When Logan and Barek returned with the coffee, he had two files open in front of him, and she was sitting by the window looking through one of the others. "Everything ok now?" Logan asked as he handed Eames a cup of coffee and a danish. She smiled at him. "Thanks, Mike. Everything's fine."

Barek handed Goren his coffee and a donut. He looked at her and gave her a smile that reached his eyes. She rested a hand on his arm,then moved away to sit down beside her partner.

"Look, Goren," Logan began. "I'm sorry we…"

"Forget it, Logan. It's ok."

"Well, what do we have here?" Four surprised detectives looked toward the door at the sound of their captain's voice.

"Oh, shit," Logan muttered.

"Why wasn't I invited to this little party?"

"Captain…"

"I think you had better be quiet for the moment, Logan." He looked from one detective to the next, his eyes finally coming to rest on Goren. "How are you doing, Bobby?"

"I'm fine, Captain. Don't blame Logan and Barek." He nodded at the file. "I need to be doing this."

"And what does your doctor say about it?"

"Nothing. As long as I'm not getting myself into trouble, he won't say a word. We need to stop this guy."

"You think I don't know that? The mayor has been on my back to get this guy since you got shot."

"Everyone jumps when the Golden Child gets hurt," Logan mumbled.

Barek smacked his arm and Deakins looked at him. "What was that, Logan?"

"Nothing," he answered, picking up a file and starting to go through it.

The captain leaned against the window and said, "So what have the four of you come up with?"

"Not a damn thing," Logan answered. "Tomorrow we're going to AJ's up in Queens to talk to the clerk who sold the perp the rifle. His background check came up too clean."

Deakins was watching Goren, who was suddenly sifting through the file in front of him, looking for something. "Bobby? You got something?"

The other three detectives stopped what they were doing to turn their attention to the big detective. Goren pulled out the registration for the rifle. "According to this, he used a state-issued ID. After the required five day wait, he waited another two days before he picked up the rifle. That would be the day before the first shooting. He didn't seem in a rush to get the gun. This address in the Bronx…"

"We told you it was an empty lot. No record there was ever anything on the spot."

"What else is near the lot?"

"Mostly apartments. A burger joint, grocery and deli, and a clinic."

"What kind of clinic?"

"Just a general medical clinic. We checked with them and they have no record of a Harry Wilson ever being seen there."

"He must have known the address he gave was an empty lot, but why this empty lot? There are lots of empty lots in the five boroughs." He studied the paper in his hand. "Harry…Harry is a nickname for Henry…Wilson...Wilson…Oh, God…No…" he groaned. "No."

Eames knew that look, the emotion in his voice. He had filled in the blanks his mind had been searching for and connected the dots…and he didn't like the answer. "What, Bobby?"

Logan leaned back in his chair. "Go ahead, Goren. Impress us."

Barek elbowed him. "Shut up, Mike."

"Where's that list of the names of the officers who were shot…was Rick Sullivan one of them?"

"Your old partner?" Deakins asked.

Goren nodded. Logan didn't look up from the file he was looking through. "How long did that one last?"

Absently, Goren replied, "Nine weeks."

Barek slid a paper out of the file she had. "Here it is. Yes…Sullivan took two hits in last night's shooting. Kevlar saved his life."

"Who suggested this guy was targeting Eames or me?"

With a confused frown, Barek said, "I did, but I was wrong."

"No, you weren't." He held up the registration form. "Harry Wilson. Six years ago, we busted a guy named Wilson Henry for stealing artifacts. He was a museum worker. Smart guy."

"Harry Wilson…Wilson Henry…not very imaginative," Logan observed.

Goren kept going. "Wilson's mother was on dialysis for kidney failure due to diabetes. She was a very difficult match…she'd been waiting for a long time. Her daughter turned out to be a match…but she wasn't willing to donate."

Eames said "Let me guess…she was blonde and she'd be in her mid-thirties by now."

Goren nodded. "When we arrested him, he was living in Brooklyn, in a decent apartment in Bay Ridge, taking care of his mother. He was working at the Museum of Natural History at the time, taking his mom to dialysis three times a week. After he got arrested, she went into a nursing home."

"Do you remember the mother's name?" Deakins asked.

He thought for a minute. "Eleanor, I think. Sister's name was Sally."

Logan finished writing it all down. "Damn, Goren. Do you ever forget anything? Come on, Barek. Let's see if we can't locate Mr. Henry."

Deakins asked, "You really think he was gunning for you and Sullivan?"

Goren nodded, glancing at Eames, but not saying anything. He slid the photos and papers back into the file and closed it. He handed it to Deakins, who took it and gathered it together with the other three files. He looked at his best team of detectives and smiled. "Good job. We'll let you know how it pans out with Mr. Henry. Are you sure you're feeling ok, Bobby?"

"I'm fine, Captain."

"Well, take it easy so you can get out of here. I'll stop by this weekend." He tucked the files under his arm and said good night.