Things had been quiet for almost two weeks now, and it was starting to worry Killian. While he was happy that no more young women had lost their lives during that short timeframe, he couldn't help but think that the silence from their killer meant he was busy plotting something worse for the near future. And Killian's imagination had been all too helpful in supplying images of just how much worse the situation could get.

He hadn't heard much from Emma Swan since she'd received her last package, so Killian had made a point of reaching out to her every few days, just to see how she was doing. Her messages seemed pretty upbeat, but he didn't know the young woman well enough to know if she was bullshitting her way through them, or if she was genuinely trying to move on with her life. Thankfully, Killian would have his answer to that question soon enough.

With Emma's stadium tour fast approaching, she had decided to return to rehearsals for the event with a couple of undercover agents following her everywhere she went. Killian had assigned two rookies to her case, in the hopes that their familiar and constant presence would help to reassure her of her safety. Phillip and Thomas had been more than happy to take the assignment when they'd been told who they'd be watching over. And they'd both been producing detailed reports of how the young popstar spent her time and who she spent it with.

Killian had run the names of anyone and everyone listed in those reports, but so far, every single one had come back clean. He'd also ran the names of Emma's neighbors and the fans that had purchased tickets to multiple concerts for her tour. But aside from some parking fines, speeding convictions, and a couple of possession of marijuana charges, there was nothing to suggest that any of those people posed a danger to her life.

The investigation was still stuck in the same place it had been before Emma had come forward with her connection to the murders, and it was driving him crazy. Killian had been involved in far more murder investigations than he'd ever care to admit, and none of them had ever proven to be as frustrating as this one was. It felt like he had a large jigsaw puzzle laid out in front of him, but with pieces of the edges missing, he was struggling to know where to start putting it together.

"You know, they say the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different outcomes," David remarked, as he stepped into his friend's office. "How many times have you watched that footage now?"

"Too many," Killian sighed, switching off the monitor on his computer. He'd been analyzing the traffic camera footage that had been pulled from the areas surrounding Emma's home and all of their crime scenes, hoping that something would jump out at him. The lab techs had already been through everything with their various computer programs and had found nothing they thought would help the case. But with no new leads to run down, Killian had been hoping that maybe human eyes would pick up on something the computer program had missed.

He'd been watching the footage over and over all day, but none of the license plates that showed up in one video ever appeared in any of the others. And while it was entirely possible that their suspect could have switched plates between each kill, there were only a handful of cars of the same model and color that showed up in more than one of the videos. He'd run the plates of those that had, but Killian hadn't been surprised when none of them threw up anything of concern.

"How's your day going?" he finally asked his friend, as he lifted his head to offer David his full attention.

"I've been pushing papers all day as we don't seem to have any leads to go on," David sighed. "I hate paperwork. They never mention the abundance of that and how carefully it has to be completed when you're a kid."

Killian chuckled at the other man's complaint as he shifted in his chair to make himself more comfortable. He'd been sitting for so long he was starting to get fidgety, and the unease building inside of him wasn't helping matters either.

"And how's Mary-Margaret doing?"

"She's good. Work's keeping her busy at the moment, while they get the kids ready to take their exams. But you know her, she loves to feel like she's helping people. So she always thrives during this time of the year."

Killian chuckled again at his friend's words. He knew all too well just how 'helpful' David's wife could be. He'd lost count of the number of times she'd 'accidentally' invited a pretty single friend of hers to dinner on the same night that he'd been invited over. The woman never seemed to be short on beautiful and unattached friends.

"You should stop by for dinner soon," David added. "It's been a while since Mary-Margaret's seen you. And you know how she worries."

"As long as there aren't any unexpected guests, I will never turn down a home-cooked meal that hasn't been prepared in a microwave."

David flushed a little at Killian's words as he recalled the last time his wife had played matchmaker. She'd invited two of her single friends over for dinner with them, thinking that one of them would be bound to catch Killian's eye. But the two women had spent most of the night glaring at each other every time Killian had attempted to make polite conversation with one of them, and the atmosphere around the table had been awful as a result of it.

"I think she learned her lesson after last time," David assured him. "I'll have a chat with her tonight and see when she can spare us some time, then we can sort something out."

"That sounds brilliant," Killian agreed, as he relaxed back into his seat once more. His eyes flicked up to the clock on his office wall and David turned to follow his gaze.

"What time are you leaving here?"

"In about twenty minutes," he replied, as he watched the second hand make a full rotation of the clock's face. "Emma will be leaving her place on the hour, and I want to travel a little behind her car when she does. Just to see if anyone else is following her."

"That makes sense." David knew that Emma's regular team would be nowhere near as skilled at picking up on a tail as Killian would be. However, the obsessive way in which his friend had been checking the clock all day made much less sense to him.

Killian didn't even need to flash his badge at the guy working the gate to Emma's private community that afternoon. It was the same guy who had been working the gate the last time he'd been called to the house, and the attendant waved him through with a small smile of acknowledgment.

When he rolled his car to a stop in front of Emma's home, he wasn't surprised to see a couple of unknown vehicles parked in the driveway. Killian knew that Emma had a live performance that evening, and she would likely have a team of people visiting to dress and style her. But he still pulled out his notepad to jot down the license plates of each of the cars, just to be safe.

The same redhead that had been at Emma's home the last time he'd shown up while she was preparing for a public appearance answered the door. The woman gave him a cold and calculating look as she took in his familiar form while she waited for him to speak.

"Is Miss Swan available?" Killian asked as politely as he could.

"She's busy getting changed."

"That's fine. I can wait," he assured her, taking a step forward to put himself inside of Emma's home. It also had the advantage of preventing the other woman from closing the door on him.

"How do you know Emma again?" she snapped, as she released her grip on it and turned to head back to the living room. Killian closed the door softly behind himself before he followed after her.

"I'm just helping her with some extra security." It was the lie they had both settled on when he'd dispatched the two rookies to her home. It would allow their agents to be as close to Emma as they could get, without people linking her to an active FBI investigation. But he knew it would still raise a few eyebrows in the industry. Most agents that offered private security usually ended up leaving the bureau to do so, given that the pay was much better than what the federal government offered them.

The redhead looked like she didn't truly believe Killian's lie, but when she turned into the living room all thoughts of it seemed to rush from her mind. Instead, she began barking orders at the people still inside the space, commanding them to move faster and reminding them of how little time they had left before they needed to leave the property.

Killian made himself as small as possible as he leaned into one of the walls furthest away from all of the commotion, and stood back to watch the people around him. These were individuals that Emma interacted with regularly and who clearly knew her home well, which would make them all a part of his potential suspect pool. But the longer he watched them work, the more Killian began to believe that the killer wasn't in the room with him. Everyone there was too focused on doing their jobs to care about anything else that was happening that day.

His focus was finally pulled away from two of the men he'd been watching over by the fireplace when the sound of a throat clearing from somewhere just behind him reached his ears. Killian turned slowly to see who could possibly want his attention that afternoon and froze in shock when he got a good look at the person standing behind him.

"Fuck me," he mumbled quietly, as his eyes widened with his shock.

The melodic laughter that followed his words suggested that Killian probably hadn't been as quiet as he thought he'd been.

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