Henry stood in the lab, finishing up some work for a few other cases he was on. Hanson was upstairs trying to piece together a case against Michael, so he thought it best to keep out of his way. Despite his driving desire to help, Henry knew it was a good idea to allow his new partner to work in peace.

Hope for finding Jo had begun to spring forth, and working through those other cases was a cinch. Henry finally felt in his element again, after what seemed like years of brokenness. It wasn't that he couldn't do his work. On the contrary, it would take the fires of hell to stop him from being an M.E. But something was off since this case started - long before Jo was taken. Whatever it was, it was back and the feeling was wonderful.

A few hours passed by, and much to his surprise, Henry was finished with his work. Looking up at the clock, he found there was still an hour to his work day. The thought popped into his mind to go and see how Hanson was doing. Surely, he reasoned, three hours was enough time.

Henry stood in front of the elevator, wishing the doors would open faster. He counted the seconds between the time each floor number lit up: two and a half. Once the sound of the elevator stopping reached his ears, he took a step toward the opening doors. However, much to his surprise, Hanson was getting off.

"Hey, Doc. I was just coming to see you."

Henry nodded. "As was I. How is the case coming along?"

Hanson smiled, and he noted a hint of excitement in his eyes. "Well, it took me some time, but I think I found the last piece of the puzzle. I did some digging into Michael's family life. Apparently, he's the son of a very rich man. His father owns a slew of warehouses. And I bet you'll never guess which warehouses he owns."

"Ha!" He said, practically jumping out of his skin from excitement. "We should go. Right now."

His partner laughed. "I thought you'd think so."

The prospect of finding Jo at the warehouse where they found their first two victims both thrilled and terrified Henry. There was a good chance they would find her with simply a few cuts and bruises. However, there was also another chance they would find her in a condition worse than the first two women. Henry did all he could to force that option out of his mind. They would find Jo at one of those warehouses - he was certain of it.

And she would be okay.

Jo wished very much to be anywhere but where she was right now. She had been lying on the table for quite some time - around three hours - and her body was racked with aches. Thankfully, the torture had not begun, at least in terms of physical pain. However, her captor had taken a different route in terms of making Jo suffer.

From the moment he had taken her, the killer had started his torture. Jo was not aware of what he was doing at the time; she simply believed him to be prolonging her inevitable death. Tying her to a chair, leaving her alone for an extended period of time, and withholding food were all a part of his plan. Once she was physically weak, he would begin on the more intense work.

Destroying her mind.

The killer had done his homework, and discovered various fears Jo kept hidden from those around her. The biggest fear she had was fear of the dark, with tight spaces being a close second. Locking her in a closet wasn't suitable to his future plans, so the killer worked with her fear of the dark. Just as the sun reached it's highest peak, he came walking into the room.

Jo was oddly satisfied to see him; maybe he would just killer her now and get it over with. Instead, she watched in horror as he began boarding up the windows. Light slowly began to recede from the room, and once the third window was boarded up, Jo realized what he was doing. Panic rose within her heart; how could he know she was afraid of the dark?

"I feel I should explain myself," The killer said suddenly, as the last bit of light vanished. Jo remained silent and still, as she listened for his footsteps. He was at the foot of the operating table. "You see, while I appreciate my Great-Grandfather's tactics, I'd like to add a bit of my own...creative flair, if you will. He focused solely on the physical aspect of murder. I'm more keen on the emotional and psychological aspect."

Jo wanted to say something, but her voice was caught in her throat. All her memories of being trapped in the dark came rushing back to her. Add that to the darkness around her, and it was almost impossible for her to think straight. Her mind was completely overwhelmed by fear.

"From your lack of response, I'd say breaking you is going to be easier than I expected."

She listened closely as the killer's footsteps faded into the darkness. The second phase of her torture had begun.

Being alone in the dark.

Hanson had never seen Henry so anxious in his entire acquaintance with him. He fidgeted every few seconds in the passenger seat, taping his fingers on his leg. This lasted for about five minutes, until he changed to a new pattern. Sighing. Over and over and over again. It was starting to drive Hanson mad.

"Henry," He said, trying to remain calm. "Would you mind doing something for me?"

Henry looked over at Hanson, nodding once. "Certainly."

"Please...stop sighing."

A puzzled look flickered across his face, before giving way to embarrassment. He nodded again, looking down at his lap. Hanson felt a pang of guilt in his heart. Maybe it would have been better to allow Henry to continue in his anxious habits. Other than mere annoyance, his sighing wasn't doing any harm.

The car ride was silent from that point on. In fact, Henry didn't make a sound. No tapping, no sighing, no...anything. Hanson had never heard him so quiet. A quick peek over at him revealed the silence on the outside was evidence of turmoil on the inside. Henry's face was stern, set like flint. It was obvious where his thoughts were, but he decided not to say anything. Allow the doctor to work through his fears; it would be better to have him clear headed when they reached the warehouses.

Within a few minutes, they were pulling into the lot. The once still Henry was now fidgeting again. They were about to get out of the car, when Hanson's cell phone rang.

"Detective Hanson," He said.

"Have you reached the warehouses yet?"

Hanson nodded, as if the Lieutenant on the other end could see. "Yes, we just got here. Do you want us to wait for backup?"

"Yes," She said firmly. "There should be several squad cars there in five minutes or so. Oh, and Hanson..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let Henry into those buildings."