Malcom refuses to meet her glance. He exhales, and once again motions for the seat next to him.

"Humor me," he implores.

She offers a heavy sigh as she lowers herself onto the unstable wheeled stool next to the pathologist.

"What is so Earth-shattering that I require a seat?"

"As you are quite familiar there is a data base for law enforcement, as well as the forensics team to ensure that they haven't contaminated the scene."

"Malcom this is not my first rodeo. If the crime scene has been contaminated just say so."

"I do not believe that it has been contaminated by anyone at the scene. That isn't what I am indicating at all."

"Just spit it out, Malcom."

"There was a match. I was utterly appalled, so I further sequenced the DNA, and I came to the conclusion that the DNA belongs to the victim."

Vera furrows her brow, "This is not Earth-shattering. The victim would have DNA all over the entire house. Are you suggesting that she is working for us in some capacity?"

"No. The DNA match was to mitochondrial DNA. What I am saying is that her DNA is a familial match to our database."

"I seem to recall that her parents are deceased, and she was an only child."

Malcom hands her the file. She reads the file in silence. Her eyes meet his.

"You can see why I called you down here. This is quite a quandary, and I wanted to consult with you on the best way to proceed."

"Follow the forensics. I will pursue historical cases down the rabbit hole."

When she returns to the station she sits in her office in utter silence behind her desk with the door closed for nearly an hour. Aiden interrupts her spinning wheels with a knock on her door. Her glance meets his, and she motions for him to enter.

"Boss, we're coming up empty handed."

"Keep digging, Aiden. There is a lead I am going to follow. I'll be gone for a while. There is a historical case I believe might be linked to this one."

In the safety of her home she meanders through her kitchen. The step-stool claws against the floor as she drags it to the nearby closet. She rifles around until she locates an old file box. She shoves aside her bottle of scotch as she lifts the lid. She removes years of tax returns to reach the bottom of the box. Tucked inside an old notebook from the days when she was still on patrol are a few loose pages. A photo, and legal document glare at her.

The sun is approaching the horizon by the time she returns to the office. She stands before the whiteboard, and hangs her head.

"The firearm is linked to several other crimes, but nothing that links them to the victim," Kenny reveals.

"Her financials are clean. She lived within her means. No outstanding debt. House is paid for."

"Jack, what about her medical records?" Vera queries.

"Nothing to indicate she was suffering from any mental health concerns."

Vera chews on her cuticle, "Let's call it a night. I am certain we can make some progress in the fresh light of day tomorrow."

She gets a series of questioning looks. Most of them shrug it off, and file out of the squad room before she changes her mind. She hunkers down at her desk with a box of old files from the basement. She is several lines into the file before she realizes that Aiden is hovering over her. The rest of the crew has gone home for the night. He clears his throat.

"So are you going to let me in?"

Her lips purse, "No need to follow me on a phishing expedition, Aiden."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Facts that may be entirely irrelevant. I follow the rabbit holes. You keep focus."

"And the last time I let that fly your life was nearly cut short."

She clenches her jaw. "Close the door."

He follows orders, and secures a seat across the desk from his superior.

"There are two scenarios that played out in this murder… the first is that someone walked into Maggie Wilson's home, and shot her in cold blood for absolutely no reason. She was an upstanding citizen, and she had no enemies."

"That is utter rubbish," Aiden scoffs.

"Or she stumbled upon historical information that lead to someone to murder her to prevent the truth from coming out."

Aiden grimaces, "What evidence do you have to support that?"

"Any success retrieving her adoption records?"

"No. The building the records were stored in burnt to the ground years ago. What does that have to do with anything?"

DCI Stanhope places a tattered file in front of Aiden.

"Organized crime? You think our victim is linked to an organized crime case from 1975? What rabbit hole did you plummet down?"

She vacates her seat with her ceramic mug in hand, "I am going down the hall to retrieve a fresh cup. We can discuss it once I have."

He nods in agreement. By the time she has returned he has scanned through the case file.

"Please don't lead me through the brambles. Just be outright. I am worried about you."

"Micah O'Rourke was linked to a whole host of offenses that should have earned him a life sentence. What does an organized crime boss have to do with our murder victim?"

"He served ten years before he was released."

"You think he had motive to kill our victim? That makes no sense."

"Aiden some secrets don't stay in the past not matter how deeply you bury them."

"I don't follow."

She retrieves her coat, and moves towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," she answers.

"We aren't done with this conversation," he asserts.

"Aiden you are in charge of this case from this moment forward. All of the answers you are looking for are on this desk. Follow the leads until you find out who did this."

The gravity of the task overwhelms him. Moments pass without notice. A heavy sigh emitted from his own body shifts him back to reality. He surveys the pile of papers covering Vera's desk. A photo of the decedent stares back at him. He shoots out of his chair, and races down the hall to locate his boss. Her car is gone by the time he reaches the lot.