Logan POV

"I need to go upstairs for a few minutes."

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. Maas said for me to bring my armor."

I glanced at Bobby and then looked back at Alex.

"You think Moran's pissed about you mentioning evidence that doesn't exist?"

"I haven't even talked to Moran today. And he probably doesn't know it's false. In fact, you know, he usually calls me after the press conferences," Alex said, trailing off thoughtfully.

"You want us to wait and talk to this guy when you get back?"

"He claims to know one of the victims?"

"He claims to know two of the victims," Bobby explained. "And he says he's afraid to talk."

"He thinks if he says what he knows, then he'll be in danger?" she asked in surprise as she eyeballed our witness through the window of the conference room where he sat waiting. "He doesn't exactly look like a teenage girl to me."

I shrugged, not really having a viable answer for her.

"Don't wait for me," she stated. "Without knowing what's going on upstairs, I have no idea how long it'll take. Find out what he knows and then run it down, okay? Just send me a text if you get something."

"Yes, ma'am," I answered.

"And you're going to send me a text, too, right?" Bobby asked her pointedly.

He looked like he was worried for her, and I didn't blame him. The political game is a finicky one, and if Maas was warning her, then whatever was going on couldn't be good.

She nodded at him, and I stood patiently while the two of them shared a look.

One of those looks that makes me miss Liz.

Although unless this witness guy came up with something earth-shattering, the morgue was probably our next stop, so then I'd get the chance to share one of those looks with Liz.

Things with us were going extremely well after my little misstep on Monday.

And I only call it little because even if I didn't handle it in a textbook manner, I had the very best of intentions.

Never once did I think about Michelle inappropriately.

Never once did I consider doing anything other than letting her down easy.

Because I wasn't kidding when I told Liz that I'm crazy in love with her.

"I'm sorry again about that comment," she told me Monday night as we hurried out of Pete's.

"I don't care about that."

"I do. I hurt you, and that's something I don't ever want to do."

"I hurt you by making you think that maybe there was a better offer on the table, and honestly sweetheart, that couldn't be any further from the truth. So can we just agree that we're both a little new to this committed relationship thing, and call today water under the bridge?"

"I don't want to call it that," she'd answered. By this time, we were turning the corner, halfway to her place, and she stopped me, pushing me against the Plexiglas enclosure of the bus stop. "It's our anniversary. That's what I want to call today, okay?"

And then she'd kissed me…and damn, did she ever kiss me. I don't know if she was trying to prove something to me, or to herself, but she knocked my socks off.

Minutes, possibly hours or days later, she finally released me and took a small step back, looking at me challengingly as though she expected me to comment on her very public display.

"Honey, we can call every day our anniversary if it means you're going to kiss me like that," I told her.

She smiled at me and then she kissed me again, and it was just as passionate, just as arousing as the first time.

When we finally came up for air, I could barely think straight for wanting her.

"We need to go home," I said as I took hold of her hand and started hustling down the block.

"Why?" she asked knowingly, seemingly enjoying my rush.

"You know why. If we don't, we're going to end up getting arrested for public indecency, because I'm pretty sure they frown upon people having sex at a bus stop."

We made it home, but just barely.

In fact, we didn't even close the door all the way, because she was already pulling off my jacket, and when it hit the floor, it landed in the doorway, so when I shoved on the door with my foot in an effort to close it, it got hung up on the jacket.

So we made love against the wall in her foyer while the front door stood open a good six inches.

We could hear the cars passing and pedestrians as they walked by…but none of that mattered.

All I could think about was how close I'd come to screwing up, and how miserable my life would be without her, and how much I wanted to show her that she's absolutely the only woman I'll ever want or need.

I can't swear that I got my point across, but I made a pretty good effort.

And the next day, I showed her again.

Wednesday, too.

This morning, I got ready for work alone. She'd received a call-out at three a.m., and she hadn't made it back home by the time I left for work.

In fact, she most likely still hadn't been home. Usually when she went out so close to the regular work day, she just stayed.

But so I haven't seen her since the middle of the night when she slipped out of our bed and kissed me goodbye.

And I miss her.

Crazy, huh?

Or maybe not, I thought as I watched Alex and Bobby and their marathon look.

Because I think we're pretty close to having something like what they have.

Alex finally tore her gaze away from Bobby, and then she gave me a nod and headed for the elevator.

"What do you think it is?" I asked.

"I have no idea," he replied, still watching her as she walked.

I watched, too, just so that his watching wouldn't seem suspicious.

Of course, I didn't exactly look at the same part of her that he was looking at, but still…I've got his back when it comes to hiding this thing with her.

Because I can't imagine what it must feel like to have to worry about getting busted, so I was going to make sure I did everything I could to help keep that from happening. And since Maas was in their corner, too, I felt confident that they'd be okay, but it still had to be in the back of their minds.

"Okay, so…how do you want to play Albert?" I asked him.

He stopped staring at the now-empty hallway and instead turned to look at where our witness was waiting.

"We need to play the heavy. Both of us. We need him to be more afraid of us than he is of anybody else."

Twenty minutes later, Albert was shaking in his mud-caked boots.

"Lay off, man, okay?" he shouted at Bobby. "I don't need to see that shit!"

"You're gonna see more of it if you don't help us out," Bobby replied, sliding photo after photo of the dead girls across the table, letting them come to rest in front of our witness. "Because he's going to keep killing until we catch him."

"And if you know something and don't tell us," I said threateningly. I tapped my finger on one of the more gruesome pictures and added, "Then you're just as bad as he is."

"I'm not. I didn't do anything, I swear."

"And we believe you. But you know something."

"I…it's…yeah, okay," he said at last. "Just put that shit away, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Bobby said accommodatingly as he scooped up the photos. "But you need to tell us what you know."

"Erin Lieberman," he stated. "The girl from last Wednesday. I recognized her picture on the news."

I caught Bobby's eye and he nodded at me and then looked through the stack of pictures and pulled out the one of Jane Doe # 1.

"This is her? You're sure?"

"Yeah. She lived on my block. I used to see her all the time, out walking her dog."

"Why'd you wait so long to come forward? We showed her picture on Tuesday," Bobby asked him.

He just shrugged his response.

"We're going to need that address," I told him, sliding a notebook across the table.

"Who else?" Bobby asked him. "When you called the tip line, you said you thought you knew two of the girls."

"Yeah, and that tip line was supposed to be anonymous!" he shouted, suddenly belligerent again. "That has to be a violation of my civil rights or something, right? You can't record and trace my phone calls!"

"When you call the police department?" I asked. "Yeah, we can, so get over it. Which other girl do you know?"

He sighed and shook his head, mumbling to himself as he scribbled out an address on the notepad.

"The famous one. The senator's daughter."

"You don't know her name?"

"No, but I've seen her face on the TV enough to know who she is, and I saw her with Erin early last week."

"Wait, so the girls knew each other?" I asked sharply.

I don't know why I'd just assumed that when he said he knew two of them, it was in passing, and not because they knew each other.

"Yeah, they were out on the sidewalk, laughing about something. You know how girls are at that age."

He shoved the notebook back across the table and then focused his gaze downward, avoiding eye contact.

"Uh huh," Bobby said thoughtfully, catching my eye again. I pulled out my phone and sent Jacobs a text message.

Has the background check on Albert Gandy come in yet?

While I did that, Bobby moved closer to Albert.

"No, you tell me. How are girls at that age?"

"What do you mean?" Albert replied, still focused on the table.

Bobby leaned down until he was in Albert's line of sight, and he said, "Do you have a thing for teenage girls? Is that why you know so much about Erin Lieberman?"

My phone buzzed just as Albert worked himself up into an indignant rage.

"Are you calling me a pervert?" he yelled as he hopped up from his chair. "I'm not some sicko who lusts after young girls just because they put themselves on display with their short little skirts and their tight shirts…it's…it's…sinful, and…disgusting, and…"

"And you," I said pointedly after reading the text.

Your boy's sporting a record of peeping and indecent exposure, both counts involving teenage girls.

Which would explain why he'd been afraid to come in.

Not because he feared for his safety from the killer, but because he didn't want us to suspect him.

"Me? What?"

"I think you need to sit down, Mr. Gandy," I said firmly.

He continued to stand until Bobby reached out and put his hand on Albert's shoulder and more or less shoved him down into his chair.

"Now," I began, handing my phone off to Bobby so that he'd be up to speed. "Let's start from the beginning. Your neighbor. Erin. Tell us about her."

An hour later, we left the conference room, and I felt like I needed a shower.

"That guy is seriously perverted," I mumbled to Bobby as we went back to our desks.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "But he gave us another name."

"Yeah, because he was watching the poor girl."

"I know," he agreed as he picked up his phone. "But as soon as we confirm his alibi, we're going to have to let him go. Having an unhealthy obsession isn't a crime. Not when he doesn't act on it."

And lucky for Albert, he works nights. His boss confirmed that he'd been at work during each of the four nighttime TODs.

Of course, that left him wide open for Samantha Wright, since she'd been killed during the daytime, but I didn't see it, especially since she wasn't one that he knew.

And since he'd called the tip line.

So we streeted Albert and then sat down and put our heads together.

The only remaining Jane Doe was yesterday's victim.

The fact that Erin and Sally knew each other…and were killed less than a week apart…that had to mean something.

"The connection has to be through them," Bobby said, nearly reading my mind.

"I agree, except why kill Kaleigh Marquez in between the two? If Erin and Sally were the instigating targets, wouldn't you think they'd be the first two? I mean, I can see moving on to other girls once he got a taste for it, but if we think they're the center of this thing, then why weren't both of them first?"

"I don't know, but now that we know the identity of the first girl, we need to look at her life more closely. Something prompted the killer to go through a lot of trouble to erase her identity, and then, maybe because he saw that it worked even if only for a little while, he kept doing it on the subsequent victims."

"But maybe we can still track the killer through Erin," I finished thoughtfully. "It makes sense that it's someone in her life."

He shrugged and stared at me for a minute and then shook his head.

"I don't know," he admitted. "What about this…two killers, two ideas on who to kill."

"You think they're taking turns?"

"We've got a connection between Erin and Sally…numbers one and three. And then a connection between Kaleigh and Samantha, numbers two and four."

"Which would mean the important ones are Erin and Kaleigh. They were the first of each killer."

"It's a theory," he said, looking slightly frustrated. "But yeah, I think it's a place to start."

"Nothing from Alex yet?" I asked him after a minute.

"No," he said, tossing his pen onto the desk and then leaning back in his chair.

"Send her a text," I suggested.

"I can't do that."

"Why not? Maybe it'll rescue her from a budget meeting or something."

"Yeah, but…yeah, okay. I'll just tell her that we're done with Albert."

He pulled out his phone and sent her a message.

A minute later, his phone buzzed with her reply. He glanced at it and then read it out loud.

Call Liz and have her meet you and Logan at Pete's. Urgent - do it now. I'll be there as soon as I can.

"Pete's at noon on a workday?" I questioned.

"Something's up," he said quietly. "Something's definitely up."

"So…now what?"

"You heard the boss. Call Liz, and let's get out of here."

TBC...