Antonio stood over the dead body of Dick Jones, holding a clipboard. He was taking notes in such a casual fashion that one would not have guessed the stench of death permeated through the air he breathed.

"What have you got?" Nicole asked him.

"A body. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I bet you will." Nicole replied as Jess rolled her eyes at the conspicuous innuendo.

Antonio cleared his throat. "Dick Jones; Caucasian male. 35 years old, athletic build,"

"And easy on the eye," Jess commented.

"Speaking of the eye; although both he and Jane took bullets to the chest I can't find bruises on either of them. No fractures, no broken bones, not a scratch."

"As far as the eye can see; is that what you meant?" Nicole asked.

"Actually I found that a vein in his eye had popped very soon before the time of death."

"Doesn't that happen to people who are under a lot of stress?" Jess asked, wanting to appear well-informed but secretly feeling inadequate.

"Yeah, but it can be provoked by intense emotions such as anger and rage…"

"…Often provoked by confrontation. That could explain the cookies in your vision. And the hot house. Hothead." Nicole suggested.

"That's how she described him in her diaries. And let's not forget that he shot me for being on his…"

"Property. Antonio, you down with O.P.P?"

Antonio looked up at Nicole while leaning over Jane's dead body. "No, and I'm not a necrophiliac either. Why?"

"Other people's property. A violent man is an insecure man so this insecure man had something to protect. He'd kill for it."

"So he killed his wife with his daughter in the house?" Jess asked

"We don't know that she was there," Antonio interrupted while examining a hair sample until a microscope.

"Right. Look; this is about pretence and Dick isn't who people think he is. I'm sure he's not himself in your vision. Jane isn't."

"You've got that right; she drank 14 units of alcohol between last night and this morning. Her skin was flushed, she was sweaty and the alcohol level in her blood was sky high."

"So she got drunk and shot her husband and herself? There has to be more to this. A vision would be nice right now." Nicole turned to Jess.

"I can't control them, they just happen. Besides I think we should follow the affair route. Who's his mistress?"

"I don't care." Nicole said abruptly. "Antonio, we'll call. Let's go."

Although Jess couldn't understand why, Nicole was speeding down the highway headed back to the Scottdale neighbourhood.

"Nicole; Why?" Jess used minimal words hoping they would yield a great response.

"Because." Nicole turned on the radio. Nicole descended into one of her silent moods of deep thought and contemplation. It was akin to revving up a car to the maximum speed without taking her foot off the break. She was racking her brains of how to solve both a murder case and rescue Emily at the same time.

Jess was confused but still aimed to decipher the vision. Burnt cookies. Clouds. Black clouds. Ice. Sharp edges. Images flashed through her mind; as vividly as her photographic memory would allow." Mine, mine, mine," echoed in her head. Jess felt the cold sensation induced by the impending vision.

Jess was sitting on the tree branch once more but she was holding onto a rope and leaning back like an abseiler. She was overlooking the garden through binoculars. Jane was cutting pink roses from the rose bushes and looked up. Jess leaned forward to keep out of sight but there was no need. Jane was waving at Dick with pink roses in her hands. Jane's waves became more vigorous and Jess waved back in the same fashion. Jane's smiling face descended into a frightened expression and day turned to night. Jess let go of the rope and called her name. "Jane!" But Jane wasn't to be seen any longer. Jess was surrounded by darkness. She reached for the rope but Dick was holding it. A smile spread across his face. "What are you doing on my property?" Before Jess could answer she was shot.

When she opened her eyes, Nicole was offering her a water bottle and they were parked outside the Jones' residence.

"Thanks," Jess said, recovering from a disturbing episode.

"I thought you needed it. So what's the latest?"

Jess filled Nicole in.

"That proves two things. One; Dick definitely shot Jane it's too obvious, he saw her as his property and anyone meaning you, would get hurt if they came near. Two; someone was having an affair but it wasn't Dick."

"Jane? Well, judging by the number of male teachers, male church members and servicemen she came into contact with; the possibilities are endless."

"Not if who we're looking for is a woman."

"No way." Antonio replied on loudspeaker. "I thought she was a battered woman, how could she have the courage to do that? Or the time?"

"Yes way Antonio. In Jess's vision, she emphatically waved the roses i.e. happiness in Dick's face. And they were pink."

"And that makes her a lesbian," He said sarcastically.

"No, historically pink was the colour of the stars that gay people had to wear when sent to concentration camps. Or in more modern times, with the exclusion of cinematic pimps; guys weren't supposed to wear pink."

"So if I get you to wear pink…" Nicole slammed her flip phone shut in embarrassment.

Jess gave her a knowing look. "So that's why you come to work late."

Nicole shrugged her shoulders with a smile on her face. "Anyway, I think you should go and extract more juice from Gloria about who comes to the house everyday. I'm guessing a gardener. Housewives' favourite. Then talk to the police and take their reports. Oh, and after that; search the house for love letters, receipts and other evidence leading us to the mystery woman."

"What about you?"

"I have some surfing to do. There's only one way to find Erica – online."

"About Erica; I don't know how she fits into all of this and how we're going to find her."

"One doesn't come without the other. She's in all your visions, Jess."

"How?"

"She's on the outskirts, always the observer and she knows the most. She is you."

"But why would Dick shoot Erica?"

Nicole opened the door to let Jess out then swiftly drove off. Jess stood on the pavement, bewildered and blinded by the sun.

Pollock paced his office with growing irritability. It had been four hours since the briefing and they had yielded no results whatsoever. He was doing his best to ignore the constant phone ringing from home. He pre-empted the reception he would get on the other end of the line. Janice was far from friendly. He'd missed their last four dinner dates and had been sleeping in the office for the last week. He was ashamed to admit it, but he was avoiding his wife. He was avoiding his truth. Nicole interrupted his thoughts of domestic turmoil with a knock on the door.

"Agent? I believe there's a girl who's missing and you're being a special agent -though I don't know why at this precise moment – means that you're supposed to be out there, anywhere, finding her. Where is she Agent?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Classic. Brilliant." Pollock replied.

"We have made some progress." Nicole said, justifying herself.

"I know; your Dick shot Jane the Lesbian theory is real progress."

"Sir; this goes much deeper." Pollock gestured towards the chair and Nicole sat down and put the laptop on his desk. "Anto…Agent Cortez taught me how to trace the phone number that connects Erica to the Internet through the server. I've been through her logged chats with her friends and Blacksheep comes up systematically. They talk every Thursday night at 1.00a.m. Erica opens up more with Blacksheep than anyone else because she doesn't know her."

"So Erica IMs a stranger. And?"

"Blacksheep knows Erica. Personally. She's been studying her."

"Grooming her. Blacksheep is a paedophile."

"No. Blacksheep is someone who desperately needs Erica's trust but Dick wants to keep away. Blacksheep is Erica's best friend…and Jane's lesbian lover."