Liz POV

I've presently got more bodies than I can count.

Well, not literally, but still…

The six girls from FBK…the co-conspirator hooker from the Judge Schuler case…and another victim in Meeks and Granger's case, one who was supposedly killed while they were interrogating their suspect, thus providing him with an alibi.

So in all, eight bodies which needed extra special attention, and since I've turned into Major Case's most favorite ME, they were all looking to me to find that certain something that'll help break their case.

And it's not that I mind.

In fact, I'm honored that they all think so highly of my work.

But the problem is that while I've got eight bodies on the tables around me, my mind's been on the one body that's been in my bed every night for a month.

His little temper tantrum last night, after I mentioned the kiss, wasn't unexpected.

And I don't know why, but for some reason, watching him get all worked up, got me worked up.

In an entirely different way.

I smiled just thinking about it.

"Um…Dr. Rodgers?" Sarah said as she entered my morgue and interrupted my mental replay of the third time Mike made love to me last night.

"What is it?" I asked her without looking up from the body I was examining.

There was something about Misty Hahn that I couldn't put my finger on.

"I think I found something interesting," she said. "And why are you so happy when you're snowed under?"

"I'm just…happy," I replied. "What did you find?"

"Well, like you asked, I've been working on breaking down the chemical that was used to obliterate the finger prints."

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at her, sensing her underlying excitement.

"And?"

"Battery acid," she replied. "Only here's where it gets weird."

"I'm listening."

"There are several different substances mixed with the acid. And I don't mean several on each victim. I mean each victim has some other substance, and they all differ from each other."

I stared at her for a moment and waited for her to elaborate.

"Lemon juice," she stated. "Trace cardboard particles. Dirt. Fish cells."

"Fish?"

"Uh huh. And I don't think I want to know the why of this one, but urine. And blood."

"There wasn't blood in all of the samples?"

"I mean blood that doesn't match the victim."

"Oh," I said thoughtfully. And then I said, "Oh!"

"What?"

"The killer used a knife to cut the fingertips and then he put on the battery acid. The knife damage was covered by the acid damage, but by cutting the skin first, it increased the effectiveness of the acid."

"So the other substances…they were transferred from the knife?"

"Or rather knives. And since none of it was duplicated, it sounds like there might be six different killers."

"Huh. Okay…but urine? Really? Who pees on a knife?"

"Yeah, well, I don't know the answer to that one, but if the detectives can pull in a suspect, we'll be sure to have them ask."

I pulled off my gloves and took a step back from the table, but then I started thinking again.

"Hey, smell her," I instructed.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Come on, Sarah. Take a good whiff."

She rolled her eyes at me but stepped closer to the body.

"What am I sniffing for?"

"I don't want to tell you. I want to see if you smell the same thing I do."

She leaned down and took two quick sniffs and then paused and moved closer, this time inhaling deeply through her nose.

I knew once she got over the gross-factor that she'd catch on to what I was talking about.

"Coconut," she said.

"Where?" I encouraged, and then I stood back as she did a full-body olfactory inspection.

"Around her neck," she said as she stood up and gave me a smile. "The killer had coconut-scented lotion on her hands when she strangled her."

"A-plus for you today," I quipped. "I'll let you do the honors of calling either Wyatt or Yuille and giving them the information. I'll call Logan and tell him about our six-killer theory."

"Well, or maybe it's just six different knives," she posed. "Maybe the guy has a collection or something."

"Doubtful, but that'll be up to them to sort out."

She nodded and pulled out her phone.

"Hey, what's up with you and Logan anyway?"

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"I saw him checking you out at the scene the other day."

"Sarah, I'm an old, bitchy ME," I replied. "I seriously doubt Detective Logan was checking me out."

"Uh huh," she said dubiously. "Then how come you're so happy lately? And you know you're not old."

"Just bitchy?" I joked.

"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, I get it," she said casually. "But I mean, the man is blistering, so if it was me…"

"You think he's hot?" I asked her, a little surprised, but only because she's about half my age.

"Oh my God, seriously, Doc? You don't?"

"Oh, I do," I said with a smile. I pulled out my phone and added, "Make your call."

Three hours later, I was in a booth at Pete's, sitting next to the blistering hot Mike Logan.

"He actually suggested that he'd transfer you, if he takes over?" I asked incredulously.

"That's what Alex said. He told her she could partner with me and that he had no problem moving Logan around," Bobby answered as he sat across from us piddling with his cell phone.

"I bet he doesn't," I mumbled, instantly annoyed with Danny's gall. "But it's not going to happen, is it? I mean, Moran's not that stupid."

"Moran's not. We're not sure about Zaring," Mike replied.

"Or the mayor. He loves her in front of the camera."

"Maybe she needs to be a little less successful," I suggested.

"I don't think he cares," Bobby said. "He likes the way she looks, and he likes how the reporters have taken to her. I think he sees Ross as the perfect opportunity for a shake-up."

"So…what are you two going to do about it?"

"We're working on it," Mike said. "Trust me."

"Where is she, anyway?"

"She's on her way. She had to meet up with Stanley to give him the keys to her apartment."

"Oh, that's right. He's moving in this weekend, isn't he?"

"Uh huh," he mused, still typing.

"So how'd it go on Staten Island? Do we have another name?" I asked Mike.

"Lindsay Hill," he replied. "Age eighteen, just moved into her own apartment last month."

"And she's got a Facebook page," Bobby said, holding up his phone for us to see.

"Facebook?"

"All of our girls are on there," Mike explained. "Or five out of the six, anyway."

"You think that's how they're being targeted?"

"Listen to this," Bobby said. "Who's up for some fun, she posted Tuesday night. And there are a bunch of comments. I'm in. What did you have in mind? 40/40 at 10. See you there."

"They just document their whole itinerary on the net?" I asked incredulously. "Anybody could've seen that and known where to find her."

"Or known where not to find her," Mike posed. "Her apartment would've been empty, and chances were good she'd be getting home late…"

"Tuesday night," Bobby stated. "And she was found murdered Wednesday morning."

"It's the perfect hunting ground," I commented. "Who needs to actually stalk anymore when you can just read about your victim on the web?"

"Uh huh," Mike agreed.

"So this thing with the knives," Bobby said suddenly as he put his phone away. "Something completely different on each one?"

"Yeah. No two samples contained the same substance, with the exception of the battery acid."

"Why would someone cut first?" he asked me. "Do you think they tried to remove the prints that way, and then gave up? I mean, that would be my first guess, but not when it was done six different times."

"The acid works better on raw skin. It would eat away at the epidermis, but more slowly. By cutting into the subcutaneous layers, the acid worked much faster."

"So they talked about it," Mike said. "They had to. We need to get CCS to search for conversations in forums containing the words battery acid and knife. Someone gave a tutorial on how to make the acid work more efficiently."

"Are you cross-checking their friends lists, too?"

"Yeah, but these girls have hundreds upon hundreds," he complained. "And you know it's all crap. Nobody has that many friends. I mean, I've got what…four?"

"Four what?" Alex asked as she arrived at the table and slid in next to Bobby.

"Four favorite positions, although I'm planning on testing out a fifth later," he joked as he waggled his eyebrows at me. "I read about one position where you…"

"I really don't need to hear details," she interrupted as she smirked at him and shook her head.

Although now I was intrigued.

Mike's a very adventurous and creative lover, so if he had something new in mind…yeah, I was game.

"You should try being partners with him," Bobby remarked to Alex. "So did you get Stanley taken care of?"

"Uh huh. He already checked out of his hotel. I told him we'd stop by tomorrow afternoon to take another pass and make sure everything's out of his way, but it's mostly good."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to have his own place again."

"Especially for his date tonight," Alex added as she waved the waitress over to our table.

"Oh, so your apartment's finally going to see some action," Mike said.

Alex rolled her eyes at him and then looked at me and said, "That was a nice catch today with the coconut lotion."

"Did it help?"

"Yeah, and get this. It's the twin."

"Wait, back up," Mike said. "Are we talking about the Schuler case?"

"Uh huh," Alex said, nodding and smiling. "Misty Hahn was killed, and we think Marion Black did it."

"The conniving twin," Bobby murmured. "Wow, okay…well, here's a theory. What if…"

"Marion was posing as Martha in the first place?" Alex finished. "It's not on the list of impossibilities."

"Seriously? It's not impossible that one twin took over the other one's life, then had the husband killed while conspiring with a hooker, and then set up the hooker for murder, and then killed the hooker? Oh, and in the meantime, staged an escape by one sister only to re-emerge as the other?" Mike posed.

"See, you do have it," Alex replied with a smile. "Yeah, that's what we're thinking. Wyatt and Yuille picked her up tonight and she's sweating it out in lock-up."

"Well, we might be getting close, too," Bobby told Alex. "We're going to hang with CCS tomorrow and see what pops. This Facebook angle…it's right, I can feel it. And if we throw in the search about the acid, like Logan suggested…"

"Acid?"

"The evidence leads us to believe that six different knives were used to mutilate the fingers before pouring on the acid," I explained.

"Sounds like you saved the day today, Liz."

"Yeah, well I've got eight bodies down there at once – something had to give," I deflected.

We spent a few relaxing hours, eating dinner and having a few drinks while we talked about cases and then talked about anything but cases.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Alex's cell phone rang.

"This can't be good," she mumbled as she pulled it out and looked at the display. "It's Maas."

"Maybe he's calling to ask where you keep the sex toys," Mike suggested.

She shushed him and answered the phone.

After a few minutes of listening to her side of the conversation, I still had no idea of what was going on because apparently Maas was doing most of the talking. She finally hung up and looked at Bobby with an expression of amusement and exasperation.

"What?" he asked her.

"Ross showed up at my apartment," she stated.

"Tonight?"

"Uh huh. Just a few minutes ago."

"Wait, and Maas opened the door?" I asked, grasping a hold of where this was going.

"Oh, yeah," she said with a nod. "In his underwear. So guess what Ross thinks of that?"

"I'm sure Stanley corrected him," Bobby said.

"Yeah, and that'll work. He's gunning for my job. What better way to discredit me than to tell the commissioner that the deputy chief answered the door to my home in his underwear at eleven o'clock on a Friday night?"

"So just explain it to him."

"Explain why I'm not living there? Yeah…face it. I'm totally screwed."

TBC...