It was hard to breathe, to see and to think nothing made sense; his mother lying cold on a coroner's table and then Gordinski standing next to him promising justice. He wanted to scream to cry but he couldn't not now even as his knees began to weaken he found the strength to rush from the building into the night's air.

It was a small miracle that he was able to reach the car before collapsing fumbling for his phone he yanked it off of his belt and dialed her number. He needed to hear her voice of sanity and comfort or he'd surely lose his mind.

"Hey…"

The silence and labored breathing on the other end told her that he wasn't doing well.

"Baby Girl…"

…and the tears; she heard his tears and fighting back her own she searched for the words to say.

"I'm here…Derek, I'm here for you."

"I know you are."

"I don't know what to say, Handsome to make this better, except that I love you and if you need me there, I'm on the next plane."

"Why did this happen? She was such a good person and someone just walked up to her door and..."

"We'll catch them, you know that right? You'll catch them and all of us are here to help make sure that happens."

"Gordinski is on the case."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah of all the people…"

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't like it but I'm going to stay on his ass to make sure he does right by my mother!"

She knew better than anyone how Morgan felt about the man who'd used his badge to make his life a living hell as a boy. Suddenly it was one of those moments where she was at a loss for words.

"I know you will. Derek?"

"You and your sisters are going to get through this, okay?"

"I'm not so sure, Baby Girl."

Morgan Home – Later…

Morgan carefully removed the yellow tape from the front door and pulled the key to his mother's house from his pocket. The crime scene investigators had already finished their work but until the case was closed the house was still off limits to anyone not related to the investigation. He had dreaded coming and as he looked at the dried blood stain at the front door his stomach wretched.

He stepped across the threshold careful not to touch the stain; he couldn't imagine what his mother thought in those final seconds of her life as she looked her killer in the eye. Slowly he made his way through the small front room desperately searching for something that only he would know was significant, something that would lead him to her killer. The house was immaculate everything in its place; pictures of his and his sister's childhood, his high school football trophies that she still displayed proudly for all to see. His sisters' cheerleading and spelling bee ribbons adorned the mantle of the fireplace.

CPD Headquarters –

Gordinski had gone over all the evidence a dozen times and still he had no leads. No one had come forward as a witness and there was very little forensic evidence at the scene. He felt pressure to solve the case not from any outside influence but by his inner need to make amends for his past mistakes. He'd used his position as a police officer to make life for young Derek Morgan difficult. At the time he felt justified in his actions certain that the young boy was a troublemaker. He'd been so eager to prove himself and move up in the ranks of the police force. He had his mind made up about the people whom he was supposed to be serving and he missed seeing the real picture.

Young Derek Morgan had witnessed his father being gunned down before his eyes; too much for a ten-year old to have to endure. That wasn't taken into Gordinski's consideration when the boy began getting into trouble. Fran Morgan thought it a good idea to send her precocious pre-teen to the community youth center in hopes of keeping him off the streets and out of trouble. Instead it was the beginning of the worse years of Morgan's life; years that still haunted him as an adult.

Home of Fran Morgan –

Morgan noticed a large envelope in the center of the kitchen table. He noticed that it was addressed to him in his mother's handwriting still unsealed. He took a seat and dumped the contents out and several envelopes fell out that were also addressed to him. It looked like his mother was sending mail to him that had been sent to his childhood address. He thought it was odd that the half dozen or so letters were all handwritten in the same unfamiliar hand so he picked one up and opened it.

Milly's Coffee Shop – Quantico, VA. – Monday Morning –

As usual Milly's was crowded with commuters in line to get their morning jolt of caffeine. Garcia saw a few familiar faces and they each nodded as they passed. The tables were all taken with customers reading newspapers, books or taking advantage of the free Wifi.

Just as Garcia stepped outside she was nearly run down by a woman rushing through the door. The young woman looked up apologetically after bumping into her nearly knocking her cup from her hand.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" The woman muttered.

"No problem." Garcia replied.

"None spilled on that gorgeous blouse did it?"

"No not a drop, thanks."

It was then that Garcia noticed the woman's red eyes and the remnant of tears on her face.

"Excuse me, but are you okay?"

The woman looked into her concerned eyes and then looked away as her hands rummaged through her pockets as she sniffled back her tears.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine."

Garcia handed her one of her napkins and watched as the woman passed her into the shop. Without hesitation, ever the momma bear, Garcia followed the distraught woman inside.

"Excuse me…again…I don't mean to get in your business, but you look like you could use a friend."

The woman managed a weak smile as she shook her head affirmatively. She couldn't help noticing the innocence in the eyes of the blonde woman. Not many people would take the time to show concern and kindness to a complete stranger but she could tell that this was probably the norm and came with ease for this woman.

"It's just been a rough time for me lately…but I'm sure you have much more important things to do than to listen to a stranger's sob story."

Garcia looked at her watch.

"I don't have to be a work for another thirty minutes and I work just a few steps away, I can't think of anything better to do than help a new friend."

Penelope extended her hand to the woman.

"My name is Penelope. What's yours?"

"Tara. My name is Tara. Please to meet you, Penelope."

Tara Buford shook the woman's hand and thought how easy it had been to enter her life. She radiated light and love and no doubt she meant a great deal to a lot of people. It was no wonder he loved her so much and if it wasn't for the fact that she was going to kill her, the two of them could be close friends, yes, close friends indeed.