1902

Henry heard the sound long before he passed Chief O'Brian's office. It was soft, yet pronounced, changing in tone and volume every few seconds. It was a sound he recognized from being in his own life all too often. Reaching the door of the Chief's office, he leaned toward it and listened. Henry wasn't certain whether he should knock and try to console the man, or simply let him weep in peace.

It had been three months since Peggy's death, and they were no closer to finding her killer than they were before. Henry had done everything he could think of to try and close this case, but he was out of options. Everyone knew hope was fading, despite their best efforts to keep it alive. There was nothing left to do now, but pray something turned up.

"I know you're standing out there, Morgan."

Henry jumped at hearing his name, and felt his cheeks get hot. Apparently, he wasn't as quiet as he thought he was. "Hello, Sir," He said, slowly pushing open the door.

The Chief's eyes were dry, but still red and puffy. "We're never going to find him, are we?"

"I...I don't think so, Sir."

He nodded. "You've done one heck of a job though, Henry."

Henry smiled softly. "Thank you."

There was a pause in their conversation before the Chief responded. "You're welcome; now, go home. I'm giving you the day off tomorrow. Have a nice, long weekend."

Henry didn't feel right about leaving him there alone, to bear the burden of his suffering all alone. But the look in the Chief's eye as he hesitated confirmed it was the right thing to do. Sometimes, a man needs to simply be alone to process the truth, no matter how difficult it is to swallow.

He knew that better than anyone.

Present Day

Jo let out a small cry of pain as the ropes tying her to the table dug deeper into her wrists. She looked over and saw a few drops of blood appear on her arm. It was the second time she bled at the hands of her captor.

He had been gone about an hour, and she was beginning to fear he would simply leave her there. Early that morning, as she woke up to the sun shining through the warehouse windows, he came in to greet her. Much to Jo's surprise, he brought in something to eat. She hadn't had food for three days, and she was beginning to wear away. Unfortunately, he didn't allow her to eat it on her own. She remained tied to the chair, while he spoon fed her. There wasn't much in terms of variety - only a few pieces of toast with raspberry jam, and oatmeal - but it was still delicious. After she finished, she thought maybe he would leave her alone again.

But he didn't.

Jo should have known this kind gesture would be followed by spite and anger. Her captor untied the ropes around her legs, leaving the ropes on her wrists, and slid her from the chair. Being in one position for so long caused her legs to give out. She groaned as her face hit the ground.

That's going to leave a mark.

Jo didn't remain on the floor for long, though. He thrust her upwards and shoved her toward the door.

"Where are we going?" She asked, her voice cracking from lack of water.

"You'll see," was all he said.

Their trip was a short one; the second floor of the warehouse. As they entered the room above the one she just occupied, Jo felt her heart drop. Situated in the middle of the room was an operating table similar to the one they found at the crime scene. A large lamp hung above it; the only light source in the room. It gave the entire scene a dreadful feel.

Normally, Jo is the one to be brave in situations regarding her job. She'll do what she needs to do to keep the victim safe. But now, she was the victim, and all the bravery in the world wouldn't help her now. With force she didn't know she had, Jo began to fight the man. His reaction made her realize he wasn't expecting her to fight back.

"HELP!" She screamed, hoping someone somewhere would hear her. But, of course, no one would.

"Hey!" Her captor yelled back at her, slapping her. "You've been good thus far; don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be."

"You'll never get away with this," She said firmly.

He laughed, before shoving her up onto the table. "Your detective friends haven't figured out who killed those two women, have they? In fact, I'd say you were all running in circles looking for answers."

Jo didn't respond, but simply looked past the lamp and at the ceiling. Unfortunately, this tactic of silence only fueled the man's fire.

"I thought so. You see, I'm very meticulous about these things. Every little detail is planned, down to the smallest moment. Your capture was even well thought out." He paused only a moment, while tying her arms to the sides of the table. "I would only take someone who was well thought of and loved. Much to my surprise, you were perfect. On the outside, you have no one. But I know the truth."

"What in the world are you talking about?" She asked, finally getting fed up with his speech.

"Henry Morgan."

Jo did her best to remain calm at the sound of his name, but she could tell by his reaction she wasn't calm at all. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Oh, come now, Detective," He said laughing softly. "I've been watching you since I committed those murders. And I've seen the way you two interact. Your feelings are well conceal. His, however, are not." He paused a moment to survey her on the table. "Out of every person associated with the police station, your death will cause the most pain. Especially in the life of Doctor Morgan."

Jo wasn't certain what to think, as she began to process all her captor had said. How could her life mean so much to everyone...especially Henry? Granted, she was his friend and considered herself blessed to be so. But more than that? There was no way it could be true. Both Henry and herself were still clinging to their past. Her with her husband, and him with Abigail. There was no room for anything else. Was there?

All these thoughts swirling around in her mind and she never ever noticed her captor leave. If she had noticed, then she would have seen the look in his eye as he watched her.

She didn't have much time.