1902

The sun was beginning to peek out from behind the clouds, doing it's best to force the storm away. Henry, along with practically the entire town, stood around the grave site, listening to the preacher speak. He was not one to take comfort in God, but he did not disregard people who did so. Chief O'Hara and his wife were a couple of those people. It only made sense to him, then, that God would push away the clouds to reveal a beautiful blue sky.

"Peggy always loved when the rain would stand together with the sun," Chief O'Hara said softly. "She would often say it was God's way of showing the hard times don't last forever."

"She was a wise women," Henry said, smiling sympathetically.

"Ah, that she was."

The preacher continued talking, before yielding to anyone who wanted to say a few words. Individual after individual took their place at the head of the coffin, sharing stories and shedding tears. Most of the stories paid tribute to how kind Peggy O'Hara was, while some touched upon her mischievous side. It was good to hear laughter amidst the sadness; Peggy would have wanted it that way.

After a few more words from the preacher, Chief O'Hara was ushered forward to place a single daisy on top of the coffin - Peggy's favorite. He stood there for several moments, and Henry watched as the strong, brave man he knew crumbled into a million pieces. His tears were shed freely, without any concern for what other people would think. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, for everyone felt nothing but love and empathy for the broken man.

People followed in the Chief's footsteps, leaving a daisy on the coffin, until there was a pile too big to fit. Henry touched the top of the coffin as he placed his own flower, and made a promise to Peggy. He would figure out who did this to her. The man would pay for his crimes.

As Henry walked away, something caught his eye in the distance. Standing about one hundred yards away was a man. He looked to be around Henry's age, and was standing next to a large oak tree. Any passerby would have assumed the person was visiting a grave, but he knew better. He could see the man's head was tilted away, but his body was positioned toward the funeral. Henry instinctively moved a few steps toward him, before he was stopped by the Chief.

"Henry," He said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, sir?"

The Chief paused, before looking him square in the eye. "Find the man who did this to my wife, and bring him down."

Henry nodded and watched the Chief walk away, before turning back toward the man in the distance. When his eyes fell on the place the man was once standing, his heart sunk. He was gone.

Present Day

"This guy is a genius."

Lucas stood over the body of the second victim, examining the lacerations all over her. Henry had already done an autopsy on both women, but with the crime scene finally found, he wanted to reexamine them. There may have been something he missed, and he didn't want to take a chance at losing the opportunity to find it. Now, as Lucas stood across the table from Henry, he was starting to regret his decision.

"Lucas, please, I'm trying to concentrate."

Lucas looked up at Henry and frowned. "Sorry, Doc. You have to admit though, whoever did this was a professional."

He knew Lucas was right. Whoever had done this knew what he (or she) was doing. But Henry didn't needed to hear it again...for the one hundredth time. "I realize you're quite taken with what we've found here, but please, keep the declarations of wonder to yourself. Please."

He nodded. "You got it."

There was silence between the two again, which was a relief for Henry. The quieter his environment was, the more quickly he could piece everything together. However, after another hour of searching, the doctor found nothing new on either of the bodies. He was disappointed but knew not all was lost. There were still the results from the crime scene to take into consideration.

Right on cue, Lucas walked back into the lab, grinning. "The results are back on those samples you wanted."

Taking the results from Lucas, Henry quickly read through them. The report was like a Christmas present you never expected. Henry had hoped the tests would reveal something about the crimes committed against these women, but he never expected them to reveal so much. Immediately, his thoughts jumped to Jo. Running over to the phone, he dialed the phone number to her cell phone.

"What is it, Henry?" She asked, her voice a mix of concern and anticipation.

"The results are in."

Those were the only words he needed to say. The clicking sound in his ear alerted him to the fact she had hung up. It wouldn't take Jo more than a few minutes to get to him, yet those minutes felt like hours. At one point, he began pacing back and forth to occupy his time. Lucas made a few remarks, which Henry ignored. By the time Jo was in front of Henry, he was about to jump out of his skin.

"Detective, I have in my hand a goldmine of information pertaining to this case."

"Well, start digging," Jo said smirking.

He smirk back, and began his long tale of surprise and expectancy. "Many samples of blood were taken from the scene. Most of the blood is that of our two victims. Their names are Jennifer Greyson and Abigail Darling. However, there was also blood from another source as well."

"What?" She asked, more excitedly than she intended.

"Dogs."

"Dogs?" Lucas said, coming over to Henry.

Henry nodded and continued on. "The blood from the dogs surprised me, but that wasn't what surprised me the most. Out of all the partial fingerprints collected, we were only able to identify those of our victims. However, there were a few strands of hair in one of the blood samples. The hair is from a Thomas Thatcher."

"Our killer?" Jo asked.

"It's quite possible, but I wouldn't condemn the man just yet. There were only a few strands of hair, and not a single fingerprint from the man in the entire crime scene."

"We'll bring him in for questioning," She said, pulling the phone out of her pocket to text Hanson the news. "Hanson can contact him right now."

The thrill of finally bringing in a suspect was becoming too much for Henry. He needed to occupy his mind with something else. Going over to his microscope, he pretended to look at a sample. Only he knew there was nothing on the slide. Instead, Henry used these few moments to collect his thoughts. If Thomas Thatcher was the killer, than it was possible they prevented a rain of murders. Dozens of women could go on living their lives, without having to worry, even though they didn't realize to in the first place. As Henry looked up from the slide, he looked over at Jo.

She wouldn't have to worry either. Thank God.

Even though Jo was looking at her pocket (to put her phone away), she could still sense Henry looking at her. She was surprised to see him hurry over to his microscope after their sudden finding. You would think he would want to celebrate this new discovery. Of course, Henry wasn't the type to celebrate until there was reason to. Like he said, Thomas Thatcher may not even be our killer.

Now, as she looked up at him and into his brown eyes, Jo saw a spark of the old Henry. The Henry who rambled on with facts no one really needed to know. The Henry who found the simplest things intriguing. The Henry who made Jo laugh. A wave of relief flooded her. Maybe they could move on now.

"Hey Henry," She said, walking over to him.

He smiled, but said nothing, simply waiting for her to speak again.

She hesitated slightly, uncertain of how to proceed. Jo wanted to Henry to know she appreciated his concern for her, but she didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing. They were friends, and friends did this sort of thing. Why, then, did she find herself fumbling for words?

"I...uh...I just want you to know I appreciate your concern for me," She said pausing. "Even if it was unnecessary."

Henry smirked slightly. "You would say that." His smirk faded into something more serious, and Jo knew Henry understood. "You're welcome, Detective."