The ringing of the telephone woke Connor up first. He groaned loudly, rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. It felt like he had the entire cast of River Dance performing in his head. "Fucking hang over. Bloody fucking phone..." The ringing stopped.

"Aye.."

Connor stuck his head out from under his pillow, squinting against the light. Murphy who was slightly less inebriated had answered it.

"Fuck... no it wasn't us... we were at the bar all night...Are ya sure?... alright... we'll be down there soon." He slammed the phone back down into the cradle. "Fuck!"

"What is it?"

"That was Smecker."

It was rare for Smecker to ever contact the boys; they were usually the one to contact him unless it was something big. And even then he didn't use the phone. Connor sat up, closing his eyes as the room began to spin. Once his mental balance was back he pushed aside the covers and got off of his mattress.

"Well what the fuck did he want?"

Murphy had already pulled on his jeans and gray t-shirt and was now in the process of tying his boots. "They found a body. Possible copy cat murder and something to do with religion…"

"Fuck." Connor hurriedly got dressed.

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"It's about time you guys got here. Smecker's going fucking nuts."

Greenly lifted the yellow tape so that the brothers could step under it into the crime scene. They followed him down the alley around the corner to where it deadened. A body lay covered with a tarp but it was bloody writing on the wall that made the brothers pause. In large letters someone had written Angelus Iussa Letum.

Smecker approached them. "No witnesses, just the report of a gunshot heard last night at around eleven o'clock at night. But the shot wasn't even reported until this morning when someone stumbled across the body when dumping their garbage and decided to report that." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The normally impeccably dressed FBI agent's clothes were rumpled and his face was exhausted.

"So what," Connor motioned around, "is all this?"

"The victim, twenty five year old white male, shot in the front of the head. Still waiting to ID him. No gun, no bullet casing, no bullets."

"No bullets? It isn't stuck in his head?"

"Nope went straight through and embedded itself in the ground. I think."

Murphy raised his eyebrows. "Ya don't know."

"Based on the position of the body we've been able to determine that he was on his knees and just toppled over after being shot. From there we were then able to figure out where his head was in trajectory to the gun, and based on the angle of the entry and exit wound where the bullet went into the ground. However whoever shot him took the time to dig it out."

"Ya wouldn't think they would have enough time to do that. Let alone take the time to do it even if they did." Connor made his way over to the body and kneeled down next to it. "Ya mind if I take a look."

"Go right ahead."

Connor pulled the tarp away from the head. "Fuck!" He let go and stumbled backwards.

"What?" Murphy joined his brother. "Holy fuck!"

"What is wrong with you two?"

Connor pointed a shaky finger at the body. "We know this man."

"You've got to be kidding me." Smecker made his way back over. "How?"

"We don't know him personally. We just met him last night. Sort of."

Smecker looked at the brothers. "This is sounding way too familiar..."

Murphy shook his head. "Nah, we didn't lay a finger on him..."

"Not that we didn't want to," interjected Connor. "He was hassling Mary. We went over to help her out but someone beat us to him."

"And it was some girl. She gave him a bit of a runaround before he left. He wasn't happy."

"And this girl. Did you know who she was?"

"Never seen her before in our lives. Not the most social of people either."

"That woman who kicked Connor here in the nuts when we worked at the meat packing plant was friendlier."

"Ah, shut up Murph."

"What, it's true."

Smecker ran his hands through his hair. "Alright, Murphy I want you to go give a description of the girl and last night events to Duffy."

"Ya don't think she did it do ya?"

"Connor at this point that is all we've got to go with. And who knows maybe if we find this girl she can give us more information."

Murphy patted Connor on the shoulder and made his way over to Duffy. Smecker made his way over to the blood writing on the wall with Connor close behind.

"Got any ideas about this for me?"

"Angelus Iussa Letum." Connor read it out loud, "It's Latin. Literal translation is something along the lines of 'angel at the command of death'. My guess is whoever wrote it was going for angel of death."

"Bad enough when they want to leave their mark, now their naming themselves. And it's sick, writing it with the victim's blood."

"Murph said ya thought it could be a copy cat murder of some sort over the phone. But as far as I know other than being a fucking jerk that guy wasn't much for a death like this."

"Agent Smecker." An officer came over. "Finally got ID back on this guy. Joseph Clarence Barker. He has a record, multiple arrests for drunken behavior as well as multiple reports filed against him for physical abuse none of which however were fully prosecuted."

"Well, he could fit the bill."

"Aye, but who did it?"

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The water going down the drain was pink with blood. She scrubbed at her hands until the skin was pink and raw. She scrubbed so hard that she caused the cut on her hand to start bleeding again.

She rewrapped her hand and flushed the bloody paper and rags down the toilet. Making sure that her gun was secure in her backpack before exiting the bathroom, she walked down the hallway of the women's shelter to her small room and shoved the bag into the trunk at the end of her bed, locking it with a key that hung around her neck, and all the while trying not to wake the girl sleeping in the other bed. She stripped down to just her underwear and t-shirt and slid between the sheets.