"Lunch is served," Chris began as he casually sat down across the desk from Rita in her recently constructed office.

"Sam," Rita gazed up and smiled at the bagful's of food, "you" she accentuated, "are too kind!" she declared.

"Don’t get too crazy on me, you owe me $6.50," he said grinning as he pulled out a tub of chicken fried rice for himself.

"What? You’re out of money again?" she asked, peeking into the bags to see what was awaiting her.

Between mouthfuls of food he replied, "not exactly, it’s just that I’ve bought lunch and dinner every day this week so far. I just think it’s time you paid your fair share," he said teasing her.

She stopped what she was doing and just stood there and began to laugh at him.

"What?" he asked innocently, holding out his hand to emphasize his point.

"You," she began, "are incredible! You never let any of the women you dated pay for anything, do you remember that, ‘Mister I’m not the one being hurt here?’" she said in a tone that completely mocked him.

He swallowed his food. "I’m not dating you now, am I?" he asked.

"Oh really? What would you call it?" she asked.

"I, uh, I guess I would call it a pre-wedding relationship," he covered his tracks somewhat hesitantly, followed by a grin.

Her somewhat serious demeanor was overtaken by a grin of her own. She couldn’t be mad at him. His flimsy logic, sparkling blue eyes and that grin had her every time now. She glanced at him flashing his ear to ear smile, dimples and all. She just shook her head. She found some Kung Po Chicken and began to feast on it.

"You know Sam, you really need some artwork in here, you know, something to liven up the walls, give it a little character," Chris began, scanning the small room.

"Thank you Martha Stewart," she said sarcastically. "I thought I’d do that this afternoon, rather than work on this case ok?"

"I didn’t mean it had to be today, just, well, you know, sometime," he explained. "So, am I working with you today or do you want me to baby sit?" he asked, figuring he’d be teamed with Geoff or Tre.

She gave him the look. "I thought I’d tag along with you if that’s ok? I put Tre and Geoff on the Marshall homicide right before lunch. I think it’s time we see how they work together," Rita explained.

Chris’ face broke out into another huge smile. He hadn’t worked with Rita for months it seemed. He either had Opie tagging along, or was breaking in Tre or even going out alone. He didn’t even want to remember the whole Hot Rod situation. "Really?" he asked, just to make sure.

She nodded, "Yeah, unless that’s a problem?" she said.

"Not at all, I think that’s great," he said. She went back to her eating. He continued to look at her. "You know, I’ve missed ya out there Sammy," he said.

She glanced up at him and saw that he was being serious. She smiled, "I have too," she said.

"You know, I really think that we can do this," he explained, "working and being married. I mean, if you stop and think about it, we’ve already been married for what, like six and a half years right?" he said, convincing himself as well as her.

"We weren’t exactly married," she said.

"No, but we spent what, at least eighteen hours a day with each other most of the time right?" he replied.

"It’s different when you throw sex into the mix Chris," she said.

He scowled his face in disagreement. "Rita, we’ve shared everything right?" She nodded. "And we’re getting along better than ever, right?" She nodded again. "Then I’d say we’ve got this under control," he added.

"Are you convincing me or yourself?" she asked with a chuckle. "Let’s just keep taking this one day at a time ok?" she added.

He nodded, "Absolutely Sam, absolutely."

"So where do you want to start on the Nielsen Case Sammy?" Chris asked to Rita.

"How about at the beginning, lets go over our notes and see what we can come up with," Rita replied. They sat casually in her office. Rita quickly cleaned up the take-out food containers and listened as Chris flipped open his notepad and brought her up to speed.

"Well, for basics, she was single, 29, brunette, fitness maniac. She was out running yesterday morning at Perinot Park. Two elderly joggers spotted the body off the trail and placed the call to us. She’s got parents still here in the area, West Palm. One shot to the back of the head, ballistics is still running the type. Looks like one of those high powered, long range rifles, I’m guessing. Maybe with a laser sensor. She definitely never knew what hit her," Chris gave her the rundown.

"Any signs of sexual assault?" Rita asked.

"No, I’m guessing she was a target, someone obviously wanted her dead. She died where she landed, after the hit the ground. There were some slippage marks along the side of the trail," he said.

"Let’s go back to the area first, then maybe over to see her parents, have you talked to them yet?" Rita asked.

"Briefly, the Mother was very shaken, I told them I’d be back today," he said.

"Let’s go then," Rita said.

Perinot Park was a gorgeous plot of land along the West End of Palm Beach. It had no prime beachfront land, but the park was beautifully landscaped with trees, young and old, shrubbery and flowers that bloomed yearlong. The park was donated and named in honor of Wilfred Perinot, a shipping tycoon who had spent most of his life residing in a huge mansion that still resided on the park property. Today it was a museum, operated by state park officials.

Chris and Rita found a spot to park their car and proceeded down the walking/running trail to where Lindsey Nielsen’s body had been found.

"I love coming out here to run," Rita began as they hoofed down the winding trail. "It’s really peaceful, not too many people take advantage of this park, probably because there’s no ocean to look at."

"Yeah, well, all the women ARE on the beach you know," Chris said smirking.

"Yeah, and that’s exactly why I come here, to avoid all you testosterone overloads," she said laughing.

They came upon the spot where Lindsey Nielsen had begun her fatal descent. The area was still roped off with police tape. Chris held up the tape for Rita to climb under, then followed her down to the spot where the body had been found.

"So, she gets shot from behind while she’s jogging along, and immediately is fatally wounded, sliding down this incline, landing here," Chris said, gesturing up toward the path.

"That works, but we’ll have to confirm it with the ballistic report," Rita said, leaning down and checking the area. "I’d say she had to be dead by the time she landed, either that or she was knocked unconscious from the fall. There’s no sign of movement anywhere around where the body was found. No signs of a struggle, and according to your notes, these footprints belong to the two men who found her."

Chris nodded. "Let’s head up and check the angle or direction from where the shot might have come from," he said, helping Rita back up the incline.

They got back to the top of the trail and began focusing on the area to the rear of where Lindsey had been jogging. Fifty yards away was a stand of pine trees, beyond that was a clearing, that was often times used as a soccer field. Before they did any more speculating, they’d need to see the coroner’s report.

"So how’s the happy little Mother these days?" Chris pushed open the doors to the morgue and called out to Diana.

"Hi ya Chris," Diana replied, "I’m doing just fine, how ‘bout you?" she asked.

"Doing just fine, D, doing just fine," he answered as Rita came in behind him.

"Hi Diana," Rita said.

Diana looked a little surprised by seeing the two of them there together. "Well, what have we here? Lance and Lorenzo ride again?"

Rita chuckled, "Something like that," she answered.

"Then I imagine you’re here on business and not for pleasure," Diana started.

Chris nodded, "What can you tell us about the Nielsen case?"

"Oooh, you two just jump right back in huh? This one is nasty. Whoever killed her knew exactly what they were doing and who they were aiming for," Diana explained.

"And just how do you know that D?" Chris asked.

"The shot was fired from extremely long range, the slug we pulled out is one of these new, high density, chemically altered grutolonium alloys," Diana began.

"Come again," Chris said.

Diana laughed, "I know, it sounds like something out of Superman right? But it is a real alloy, I had to call in Dr. Hennessy from the state crime lab to confirm the results. You don’t buy these bullets at Trader Jack’s if you know what I mean," she said.

"So can you put an estimate on the distance?" Rita wondered.

Diana turned a little to look at Rita. "Could be up to more than 500 yards," she stated matter of factly.

"Five hundred yards? That’s five football fields?" Rita exclaimed. "How can you be so sure?"

"From the pattern in the back of her head and the slight damage to the core of the bullet. That’s one great thing about grutolonium, it’s very accurate," she said, "and the bullet stays almost in tact."

"If you want to call that great, it’s just another way to kill someone," Rita said sadly.

"Listen, is there anything else you two need right now? I’m supposed to meet Tre for an appointment with Daniel," Diana said.

"No, not right now, we’ll be in touch, thanks D," Chris said.

"Yeah, thanks Diana, we’ll talk to you soon," Rita said.

"Mr. Nielsen, I’m Sergeant Lorenzo and this is Lieutenant Lance, may we speak with you and your wife for a few minutes please?" Chris asked as the elderly gentleman opened the door to the two detectives.

"Yes, yes Sergeant, we’ve kind of been expecting that you’d be coming back. You indicated that to us yesterday. Please, come in," he said, allowing them to enter his home.

"Sir, we’re very sorry about your daughter, we just have a few questions for you, it might help us with our investigation," Rita said as she entered into their living room.

"Please sit down, let me get my wife," he said. "We’ll help you in any way we can, it’s just been very hard for us," he said, his voice drifting off.

"We understand, Mr. Nielsen, thank you for your cooperation and your time," Chris added as he and Rita both sat down.

He left the room for a few minutes and Rita and Chris gazed around the room. This family was strictly middle class. The home was in a modest neighborhood and their home was adequately furnished. It was pleasant and very average. Why would anyone want to kill their daughter? They both wondered.

Mr. Nielsen came back with his wife. They sat across from Chris and Rita, on a loveseat. Mr. Nielsen kept his arm around his wife the whole time. "Sergeant Lorenzo, right?" Mrs. Nielsen asked.

"Yes ma’am," Chris said with a little smile and a nod.

"You resemble Lindsey’s fiancé," she began with a smile of her own, "perhaps it’s just your hair color and the blue eyes," she added.

Rita thought Mrs. Nielsen’s comment was a bit strange, she filed it away for the future for now. Maybe it just was a distraught Mother’s comments.

Chris smiled again, this time with compassion in his eyes, "Mrs. Nielsen, I’m very sorry about Lindsey," he paused while she nodded, "so Lindsey was engaged?" he added.

"Yes, she and Jay were going to be married next summer. They’d been planning the wedding night and day," she explained.

"Mrs. Nielsen, what is Jay’s last name?" Rita asked, taking down some notes.

"Jay Acren," she said, puzzled, "surely you don’t think he had anything to do with this."

"Probably not, ma’am, but we need to check out every lead and everyone that Lindsey came into contact with," Rita replied. "Jay may know or remember something that would help."

"I see," Mrs. Nielsen said, calming down.

"I just don’t know who’d want to murder our daughter, detectives. She was just an average person. She didn’t take drugs. I don’t think anyone hated her," Mr. Nielsen said.

"Did she have a job sir?" Chris asked.

"Yes, she graduated from Florida State about seven years ago and had a degree in accounting. She worked for DeSchmidt and Associates, for nearly five years already. She balanced the books for a lot of Palm Beach businesses. She worked in an office, behind a computer for crying out loud. She was a nameless face to most people," he added.

"Had she mentioned to you that anyone was following her or was she receiving prank phone calls?" Rita asked.

"Not that she told us about," Mrs. Nielsen chimed in. "Everything was wonderful, she was happy, looking forward to life. That’s why I don’t understand," she put her head down.

Chris glanced over at Rita and she made eye contact with him. That was enough questions for the Nielsen’s for right now. They both got up from their chairs.

"We’ll keep investigating and see what we can come up with," Chris said, pulling out a card to hand to Mr. Nielsen, "if you think of anything else, please call me. We’ll be in touch," he said, shaking hands with Mr. Nielsen.

"Thank you," Mr. Nielsen replied.

"Ok Sam, first impression?" Chris asked Rita as they walked out of the Nielsen house.

"Hhmmm, well, if this woman was into anything covert, she never let on to her parents. They’re like Ozzie and Harriet," Rita stated.

"Yeah, that’s the same thought I had. So where to from here? The boyfriend or the job?" Chris asked

"Let’s try the job first, we’ll save this clone of yours for last," Rita said.

"Clone?" Chris said sarcastically, "No one’s as good lookin’ as me!" he answered her.

Rita shook her head and laughed as they got into the car and headed for DeSchmidt and Associates.

There was nothing new in any information they got from the accounting firm. Lindsey Nielsen worked alone on most projects or with one or two other accountants, if the situation warranted it. Her boss had nothing buy high praise for her work, noting that she had been commended three times in the past six months, for going above and beyond the call of duty. Her clients were businesses, Rita and Chris noted the names and the contacts, just in case they had to do any further checking. However, her clients, like her employer all gave her high praise. Nothing about her life at DeSchmidt and Associates was out of the ordinary. They still had no reason why anyone would want to kill her. They’d save the fiancé for the next day. An important engagement awaited both of them on this particular evening.

"Aw, Sam, do we both have to go to this?" Chris whined from the bedroom as Rita headed into the bathroom.

"Don’t even think I’m doing this alone," Rita called out as she turned on the shower.

Chris groaned to himself and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I hate this!" he yelled back, knowing that she probably couldn’t hear him.

She did though, she came back and stood in the doorway, "I know you don’t want to do this, but we have too, I’m nervous about it too!"

He turned suddenly to see her standing there. "Maybe we can just elope and have Judge Whatley marry us, she’s always been pretty nice to us," he said, his eyes pleading.

She tilted her head a little to tell him no. "I’ll be there with you," she said.

"Well, what’s he gonna ask us anyway?" he said.

"I don’t know Chris, I’ve never been married before either, remember?" she asked. He scowled his face. "It’s a meeting Chris, that’s all, it’s not a test, there are no right or wrong answers. Ok?"

"Yeah," he mumbled.

He watched her turn and head back into the bathroom. A grin lit up on his face. He rose up off the bed and followed her. She was already behind the shower door, standing under the hot stream of water. He watched her through the glass for a minute and stripped down and slid the door open. She turned around and asked. "What took you so long, Mr. Lorenzo?"

He slid his arms around her and kissed her lips, "I hate it that you know exactly what I’m gonna do, before I do it," he murmured against her lips.

"Does it drive you mad?" she said, with a grin of her own. Her eyes locking with his.

"Everything about you drives me mad," he said, inching closer and closer, stealing another kiss.

"You know, we don’t have a lot of time for this," she said, sliding her soapy hands along his back.

"Believe me Sam, there’s always time for this," he said, feasting along her neck and throat. Rita edged closer to him as well. She didn’t reply at all. That surprised him. "Sammy?" he stopped mid-embrace, preparing himself for her to tell him to stop.

"I said we didn’t have much time, I didn’t say we had to stop," she said breathlessly, as she snaked one of her hands around to his chest and swirled around with her soapy fingertips. Her head ducked down and began to kiss the same area. He let his head fall back a bit and let out a contented sigh as she cast her spell over him.

His wet hands skimmed her thighs and buttocks, tenderly squeezing the area. She reached behind him and grabbed the soap. Her other hand snaked behind as well as she lathered them up together and began soaping up and down his back, lazily at first, then with more intensity, one hand worked higher and one worked lower. Her right hand moved on his muscular back and up toward his shoulders and neck, while the left found his butt and thighs. The right hand came around to the front and began to soap his chest, the left sought out his stomach. She felt it tremble underneath her touch. His eyes eagerly anticipated the moment when she cupped him in her hands.

Minutes went by before he reached back and found the soap, "my turn," he nearly whispered, as her tender stroking of him continued. She kissed his chest lightly as he turned the soap into lather in his hands. He nearly knelt down in front of her as he started at her feet and ankles and moved to her calves and thighs, gently and slowly going between them and around to her bottom. As he rose up higher, onto to her stomach, he circled around the area with his fingertips ever so lightly. His mouth followed, he couldn’t resist, he had to have her soon. Rita felt a heat surge through her body and as Chris began to soap and trail around and on her breasts. She felt weak-kneed and leaned in closer to him, as he cupped them both in his own hands and gazed up to look at her face. He stood back up straight and maintained the gaze all the while. Using only his fingertips, he ran them around, plucking at the hardening tips, then finally palming them both in his loving hands, over and over, around and around. She tipped her head back urging him to continue. He bent down and began to kiss them, but soon her hands framed his head and she lifted it up to meet with hers. His body pressed against hers, he moved her backwards under the full spray of the water, it quickly rinsed off the soap on both of them. They remained locked in a kiss, with Chris’ tongue plunging deeply into her mouth, again and again. She felt the cool, wet tile behind her and slid against it, as Chris raised her arms over her head and stroked at them with his own hands. The hot water pounded on his back, he ignored it as he reached down and lifted one of her legs tightly against his hip, stroking the slippery skin of it up and down. His arousal was pounding.

Her arms came down and clasped around him and she breathed, "Chris, now, please." She helped guide him inside and slowly he pushed in, full and hot. His head tucked down on her chest, feasting on a breast, nibbling at it and running his tongue over it again and again, his hands stroking the sides of her, her thighs and bottom, sweeping up and over her breasts yet again. Back up to her mouth, he went with his own. She clutched him closely. Together they began to find a rhythm, moving together with every thrust he made. They held onto each other tightly, her breasts crushing against his chest, their breathing intensifying, building toward an intense, electrifying climax….

Coming back to earth, he held her closely, nuzzling along her neck. He started to laugh.

"What’s so funny?" she asked.

"We have to go see a minister now, Sammy," he said out of breath. "I really don’t think I can do this now," he laughed again.

"Yes you can, and yes you will," she said, grabbing his chin to make him look at her. He groaned a little. "Think of it this way, the sooner we go, the sooner we get it over with," she replied.

"Isn’t it kind of sacrilegious to think like that?" he asked, still tenderly kissing her moist skin, "especially after this?"

"I think you’re avoiding it, that’s what I think," she said, reaching for the shower door. She moved out, grabbing for a towel, leaving him standing there to drip dry.

The Most Reverend Milton Carpenter held the door open for both of them to enter. He was a slightly graying, middle-aged man, with a round face and icy blue eyes. Chris immediately went about apologizing for being late. The Reverend’s expression didn’t change at all. He merely nodded and showed them into his study.

"So, I believe Miss Lance, that you told me that you’ll be getting married on February the 13^th, is that correct?" he began.

"Please, call me Rita, and yes, that’s what we’re planning for, we’ve got St. Bartholomew’s reserved for both the ceremony and the reception. So, I guess first of all, will you be able to perform the ceremony there?" she asked.

"Yes absolutely, that won’t be a problem. It’s a beautiful church, I’ve been there a few times before," he replied, noticing that Chris was nervously scanning the room. "Mr. Lorenzo, please, relax," he added, "there’s nothing to be worried about."

Chris quickly turned his attention back to the minister and to Rita, "I’m sorry," he said with a shy grin. "This is all new to me, I’m not sure what to expect."

"There’s no need to keep apologizing, Chris is it?" the Reverend asked.

"Yes sir," Chris nodded.

"This is the first marriage for both of you?" he asked, with the first hint of a smile.

"Yes," Rita quickly chimed in as Chris nodded.

The minister laughed a little and instantly put them both a little bit at ease. Rita sat back in the chair she was in. Chris glanced over at her and grabbed her hand. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and she squeezed his hand in return.

"You’re not here to be turned down," he began, "basically, I just want to get to know you both a little better. Would either of you like some coffee?" he asked, standing up, poised to pour himself some.

"I’d love some," Rita replied.

"Ah, none for me, thanks," Chris said.

"So how did the two of you meet?" he asked them.

"We work together," Chris said, beginning to open up, "partners actually. We’re Police Officers," he added.

"Patrol?" the Reverend wondered, impressed.

"No, homicide detectives," Rita chimed in, "for nearly six and a half years now."

"And you’ve dated all that time?" he asked surprised, handing Rita her coffee.

Chris laughed, "No, not exactly. See the department has a no dating policy for partners, and we respected that for many years. And after years of dating other people, well, we just realized that what we both really wanted was each other, Reverend. We’ve been the best of friends all along, sometimes it seemed like we almost were married. But now, we’re sure, we know we love each and we’re ready to become husband and wife."

"And you’re still partners? Does the Department know?" the minister asked.

"Yeah they know now and officially we’re not partners, I’m Chris’ boss. I was promoted to Lieutenant a few months back, so I’m actually the supervisor, but we do work together on cases from time to time still," Rita explained.

"And how’s that working out Chris, any problems?" Carpenter asked.

"None at all!" he said, grinning at Rita, "she’s the best supervisor I’ve ever had. And I think if we were to have problems, we’d be able to work them out. Our communication is getting better all the time. We know we have to talk to each other, work at things together. It's what’s made us good partners all along."

Rita’s face broke out into a smile as she watched Chris explain things. "Would you agree Rita?" the Reverend asked her.

She nodded, "yeah, yeah I would," she turned toward Carpenter, "we have had a few minor setbacks, but looking back now, I agree with Chris, we know we can’t shut ourselves off from each other, we need to talk and get things out. We’re learning to try to keep work and work and our home life separate. It doesn’t always work, but we know what we’re up against. And Chris has actually helped me become a good supervisor, I respect his opinions and value his input."

"So how long have you technically been dating now?" he asked.

"About a year," Rita said, "we’ve been engaged for nearly seven months. We kinda fought our feelings for a long time, even in the last year. We didn’t want to jeopardize our jobs and more importantly our friendship. We wanted to be sure."

"And you’re sure now?" he asked. They both nodded. He paused and they anxiously awaited his words. "Chris, can you define love for me?" he continued.

Chris chuckled and looked toward Rita for some help. Rita’s eyes told him that he was on his own. "She told me this wasn’t gonna be a test," he half-grinned.

"It’s not Chris, I just would like to hear what you think love is," the Reverend said, giving him a warm smile.

Chris got very serious. "Love is the best thing in the world. It’s not just a feeling or something you say or how to act, it’s how you should live, it’s what should always be in your heart." He looked down at the floor, then to Rita, "I think Rita is love." He shook his head, a bit confused, "I may not be able to define it right, but I know that because she loves me, I’m a much better person. Maybe that’s how it should be for everyone," he shrugged. "If all I had was her, that would be enough. I wish everyone could know how this feels and experience it just like I do."

"That’s beautiful Chris," Rita said to him. The minister smiled at them both.

"Rita, what does marriage mean to you?" the Reverend asked her. She turned away from Chris and made eye contact with Carpenter.

"I think marriage is a deeply sacred institution. It’s a very personal vow and promise between two people. It’s the biggest commitment of all and it should be made after a great deal of thought and discussion. For Chris and I, it’s an extension of our life so far. We both know we’re ready," she explained.

The Reverend wasn’t commenting on their responses or taking notes, he simply seemed to be continuing on his own agenda. "Rita, can you describe Chris’ character to me?"

Rita smiled. "This is harder than a test," she chuckled. Chris leaned back in the chair, briefly breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that she had to answer this one first. She looked directly at him and began to speak. "Chris is kind and gentle, his heart is so full of love. He’s so patient and understanding. He’s funny and smart and he’s got a boyish kind of charm about him. He’s taught me to not be quite so serious all the time," she said with a grin. "He’s my best friend, the man I want to share my life with."

"Ok, Chris, what about Rita?" the Reverend asked him.

Chris immediately began to answer, "Rita’s a very caring person, her heart is so huge. She’s beautiful, through and through. She’s compassionate and smart, persistent, she never stops, she never stops caring. She’s strong in spirit and open-minded. I’ve learned a lot from her, mostly how to love and how to care. She’s my life."

Reverend Carpenter smiled at them both. "Now, I’m going to give you a little assignment, I want you to think about the opposite now, something or things that drive you a little crazy about the other, and I don’t mean something petty like snoring. I want you to discuss it at home sometime before we meet again. Get it out in the open so to speak, will you both do that?" he asked them. "I usually don’t do it like this, we generally discuss it here, but I think the two of you are mature enough to do it on your own, ok?"

They looked at each other and shrugged and nodded their approval.

"Then you’ve got some decisions to make. About the service, that is. I’ll give you some booklets and some sheets on what types of things you’ll need to decide upon, like the readings and the vows, the music, etc," he said getting up and grabbing a armful of materials for them.

"Looks like we not only had a test, now we’ve got homework too," Chris laughed.

"You both strike me as two people who want this to be a special day, am I right?" he asked them as they both got up.

Rita nodded. "Yes, we do."

"This is where and how we make that happen," he said to them. "God bless you both, we’ll see you again on the 22^nd, ok?"

"Thank you Reverend," Chris said shaking his hand.

They walked out silently to the car parked outside the Reverend’s house. Chris opened the door for Rita and closed it as she settled in. He came around to the other side of the Jeep and got in. He glanced over at Rita who was already paging through some of the material that Reverend Carpenter had given them. He started the Jeep and began to drive home.

The rest of the evening was rather quiet. Chris went outside to the patio and decided to star gaze for awhile with his Christmas telescope, while Rita fixed herself a cup of tea, sat inside the living room and kept on reading the booklets that they were given. She wrote down notes and idea’s as she skimmed through the pages. Chris on the other hand, seemed to be searching the heavens for some meaning. As hard as he tried thinking about Reverend Carpenter’s ‘homework’ assignment, there really wasn’t anything about Rita that bothered him, at least nothing he could think of at the moment. He was busy focusing in on the moon, filling the eyepiece with the three-quarter full sphere when Rita slid open the patio door and came up behind him, giving him a feathery kiss on his earlobe. He smiled as he felt the moistness and stood up straight, turning to get a glimpse of her smiling at him in return.

"So do you have the whole service planned yet?" he asked, knowing that she’d been going through all the material.

"You wish," she said. She plunked down on a patio chair as he remained standing. He stretched his arms skyward and worked out some kinks.

"Well, you’ve got to have a good start on it, what’d ya come up with so far?" he asked.

"I’ve just been reading, that’s all. I wouldn’t decide anything without you, you know that," she exclaimed. "I do have a question for you though," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Uh oh, what? I don’t like the sound of this. Is it gonna cost me money?" he asked, paranoia setting in.

"It’s nothing like that," she giggled. "I was reading through the section on vows, you know, where I say, I, Rita Lee Lance take you Christopher something Lorenzo," she stopped and waited for him to nod.

"Yeah, so?" he said.

"Well, I don’t know what your middle name is," she said.

He scratched his head, "I don’t have one," he said without missing a beat.

She watched him in disbelief, "everyone has a middle name Chris," she said, "it can’t be that bad, come on?"

"I’m serious Rita, I don’t have one, never did, you’re gonna end up marrying just plain ‘ol Christopher Lorenzo. Does that bother you?" he asked.

She scrutinized his response closely. "You’re lying to me, I can tell."

"Why would I lie to you?" He laughed a little and went back to his telescope, content to ignore her, her initial question and now, her silent glare.

"Chris?" she said, now surprised by his response. She leaned forward in the chair waiting to see or hear his next move. "What is it? Elmer? Vern? Zaslow?"

"Wanna take a look at this moon?" he asked.

"No, I don’t want too, I want to know what your middle name is. Like it’s any worse than Lee?" she said.

He turned back around. "Ok, here’s the deal, I had one when I was born, but it’s been eliminated from all my records, by me. You’ll never find out, because it officially doesn’t exist any longer," he explained.

She let out a laugh. "You don’t really expect me to believe any of this do you? I’ll just call Benny or Ana, they’ll tell me, you know they will."

"No, they won’t. They know how I feel. I’ve gone over this with them many times, in fact as recently as last month at Thanksgiving," he said with an eerie seriousness to his voice.

She stood up and went over by him. "Chris, I’m gonna be your wife, I’ve told you all kinds of things, why can’t you tell me this, I promise I won’t laugh. How bad can it possibly be?"

"Ah, yes you would, and that’s why you or anyone else will never know. Take me as Christopher Lorenzo, or don’t take me at all. That’s your choice," he said with a grin.

"Well, I guess I’ll take you as Christopher Lorenzo for now, but I’m gonna find out, I wasn’t made a detective for nothing you know," she said pinching him in his side.

"No you won’t," he answered, wincing from her tickle.

"Is that a challenge?" she said.

"No, it’s a fact," he answered. The phone started to ring, they could both hear it from the screened patio door. "Saved by the bell," Chris said as he headed inside to answer it. He grinned at her all the while as he went inside and even as he picked up the portable phone off the kitchen counter. "Yeah Lorenzo," he said. "Yeah, Cap. No, we got back here about an hour or so ago. No, I didn’t check the messages. Sure, yeah, we can both be there in about twenty minutes. Ok, see ya soon. Bye," he said hanging up. By now Rita had come inside and she stood waiting for him to finish the conversation. "We’ve got a DB. Cap tried calling us earlier. I guess Tre’s baby is sick and Geoff’s babysitting his brood right now, so that leaves you and me to bat Sam," Chris explained.

"What exactly do we have?" she asked.

"Older lady, her housekeeper found her, her name’s Sara Simeon," he said.

"The author?" Rita asked.

"Author of what?" Chris had no idea what she was talking about.

"She writes romance novels with a mystery twist," Rita said, "if it’s the same woman, that is."

"Let’s go find out," Chris replied.

Cap was on the scene when they arrived. He was talking to some uniformed officers. "Hey Cap, what have we got?" Rita asked, walking up to him.

"Sara Simeon, age 51, looks like she was strangled," he said, nodding to the patrol cops and walking into the house with Chris and Rita.

"She’s an author right?" Rita asked as they moved up the steps into the mansion.

"Yeah, that’s right Lance, how’d you know?" he asked.

"I’ve read most of her books, I think Fran has too," she explained. "Her books are classics."

"The housekeeper found her a few hours ago, looks like a back window was broken to gain entry, apparently she didn’t have the alarm system triggered. Doesn’t look like a robbery though, according to the housekeeper, nothing’s out of place," Cap said.

"Sounds like you’ve got everything under control Cap, I guess I’ll go back home," Chris said jokingly.

"Uh, uh, no way, Lorenzo, let’s call this a hand-off. You two hot shots can take it from here," Cap began. "I tell ya, the homicide department expands to two additional officers and I’m still the one who gets dragged out in the middle of the night. I’m supposed to be the Captain, remember?" he lamented.

Rita put her arm around his shoulder. "Sorry Cap, us youngsters are all busy with our swinging lives, you know. We’ll take it from here though, thanks."

"Yeah, I’m headed home to Fran. She’s got some new video she wants me watch. I’m not exactly sure what she has in mind," he said, turning to leave.

"Be careful Cap," Chris offered his advice.

"Yeah, thanks Lorenzo," Cap said, nodding and exiting the house.

Chris looked at Rita and shook his head and laughed. "The things those two do, I tell ya Sammy, it makes me wonder what’s in store for us," he said.

"Yeah, I know what ya mean. Come on, let’s go talk to the housekeeper," Rita replied.

The housekeeper proved to be no real help, she had merely found the body and every time she started to talk about Sara Simeon, she broke into hysterical tears. Chris and Rita couldn’t understand a thing she said.

The cause of death did indeed look like a strangulation, someone had most likely broken into the house, snuck up on Ms. Simeon from behind and used a thin rope or covered wire to snuff the life out of her.

The lab boys were busy dusting for fingerprints and going over the home with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any evidence that might be useful.

Ms. Simeon was single, she had no known visible relatives. Chris and Rita would talk to her editor and publisher in the morning. For tonight, their work was through.

The next morning at work, the homicide department was hopping. Tre and Geoff were hot on the trail of a suspect in the Marshall case. They seemed to be hitting it off well as a team. Geoff was busy giving Tre insights to Fatherhood, while Tre was teaching Geoff the ins and outs of being a detective. It was a match made in heaven. They were locked in conversation when Rita walked through the palm tree doors first.

"I thought you shouldn’t hold ‘em all the time," Tre was saying.

"That’s true to a point Tre, but if the baby is colicky, they need to be held and rocked. It makes them feel better, understand?" Geoff explained.

"Man, I spent three hours on the Internet last night, sifting through all kinds of useless stuff. And every so called expert had a different idea," Tre said. "I shoulda just called you."

"Hey you guys, how is everyone?" Rita said, going to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"Morning Rita," Geoff said, "we’re discussing the trials and tribulations of Parenthood, bet you can’t wait, can you?"

She gave Geoff a sarcastic look, "Oh, I think I can," she said, as Chris came walking through. Her expression changed to a smile, "for a little while longer, anyway," she added.

"What’s a little while longer?" Chris asked.

"Parenthood," Tre blurted out.

Chris looked at Rita and grinned, "Sam, is there something you’re not telling me?"

"I promise, Chris, you’ll be the second one to know," she said with a warm smile. "So where are you guys on the Marshall case?" she asked Geoff and Tre.

"We think we’re on to something, thanks to Tre," Geoff began. "He figured out that Marshall couldn’t have died on the porch, it just didn’t fit with the whole story from the secretary. We went back and checked the site and sure enough, we found some scuff marks where he must have been dragged. We’re running samples from the bedroom, we think Marshall and the secretary may have been having an affair. The bed sheets are in the lab right now.

"You think petite Ms. Waters dragged that 250 pound man, Opie?" Chris asked.

Tre stepped in, "that petite Ms. Waters can bench press nearly 400 pounds. She was Ms. Muscle last year. I thought you kept up on those magazines man?"

"Me?" Chris asked, "I’m soon to be a married man, why would I need to read that?" he said.

"Sounds like you two do have a suspect, keep me posted ok?" Rita said, heading into her office. Chris hung around Tre and Geoff for awhile longer.

"So, you two missed another DB last night, what was going on?" Chris said.

"Joey was up all night, Diana’s sick too, that left me in charge at home, sorry," Tre said.

"And Connie was out at some sit down dinner thing for the magazine she writes for, we couldn’t find a sitter," Geoff explained, "what’s up?"

"Sara Simeon, the author, was murdered, strangled actually," Chris began.

"Hey, I think Connie knows her, she writes romance novels right?" Geoff asked.

"Yeah, that’s what I’ve been told," Chris said.

"Any leads yet Chris," Tre wondered.

"Not really, so if you guys can finish up that Marshall thing, Rita and I would really appreciate the help, we still are nowhere on the Nielsen case," Chris said, "and we’re trying to plan this wedding too."

"We’ll do our best, Chris. We’d hate to see you not be able to plan a wedding. That’s definitely more important than solving crime, right? Let’s go Op," Tre said as the two of them headed to the lab.

They both looked at him at laughed as they walked out.

Cap came out of his office searching for a cup of coffee and seeing the interplay between the three of them. "Whatsa matter Lorenzo? Nobody’s got any sympathy for you these days huh?" he said as he poured a cup.

"I wasn’t looking for sympathy Cap, just a little bit of help with the workload. You gotta admit, three outstanding homicides in January is a bit unusual," Chris said, following him over to the coffee table.

"Any connections?" Cap asked.

Chris shook his head, "No, they’re all different, nothing similar at all. I guess it’s a good thing Tre and Geoff are around."

"So how are the wedding plans coming along?" Cap shifted gears.

"We met with the minister last night," Chris began.

"Well, how did it go?" Cap prodded.

"Ok, I guess. You know he asks ya all sorts of personal stuff. I feel like I’ve been personally invaded," Chris explained.

"It’s just so he gets to know you," Cap said.

"Yeah, that’s what he said, but it was just weird, you know? Now Rita was reading stuff all night long. She wants us to write our own vows. Like I have time for that," Chris said.

"Listen kid, you make time, this is important, and it’s important to Rita," Cap said.

"I know, I’ll do it, but I don’t necessarily have to like it," he added.

Cap smiled and laughed. "You guys got anything on the Simeon case yet?"

"We’re waiting for the lab guys to give us their reports and then we want to go meet with the editor and the publisher. Other than that, we’re dead in the water. She’s got no family, no real friends, but her computer. I don’t think it was random, but right now, we’ve got no leads," Chris said, drinking down some coffee.

"What’s Lance working on this morning?" he asked, noticing she was in her office with the door closed.

"She said she needed to get you some numbers for an updated budget. We’re gonna hook up about 10:30am and do some interviews. I’m gonna head down to the lab now," Chris replied.

"Sounds good, I’ll talk to you later," Cap said, heading over to Rita’s office, leaving Chris to work on his own.

Chris watched him enter and heard Rita’s voice welcome him in. The door closed behind Cap. He stared at the closed door for a few moments. He kept telling everyone including himself, that it didn’t bother him, that she was promoted, but every time he stood on the outside of her closed door, it ate away at him, little by little. He shook it off for now and went about his work.

Chris finished up his work and headed home, Rita stayed at the office, still crunching some numbers. She came home a few hours later to find him out in the garage plummeting away at his heavy bag. She carried in a bag of groceries and went outside to greet him.

"That actually looks like fun tonight," she began, as he turned to see her standing there with her hands on her hips, "maybe I should let you teach me how to do it properly sometime," she said.

He grinned at her and kept up the rhythm he had started. "Anytime, Sam," he exhaled. "It’s great for taking out your aggressions," he said. She walked over to the workbench and turned down the sound on a portable CD player he had on, belting out some Neil Young songs.

"Are you upset about something?" she asked.

"No, not really, it’s just exercise tonight," he said, continuing his workout.

"I thought you might use the time to go over some of the material that Reverend Carpenter gave us," she said, watching him closely.

"Who," he smashed his hand into the bag, "said," another hit, "I," followed by his left, "haven’t?" he finished with a flourish and added a grin which he flashed in her direction.

"So is it ok if we each write our own vows? There’s a help section in one of the books if you get stumped, did you see it?" she asked.

"I’m game to try it and yeah I saw that part, I’m sure I’ll need to utilize it," he said, ending his array of punches for the time being as he came closer to her and kissing her cheek lightly before grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long drink.

"You’re sure?" she asked.

He shook his head in agreement as little droplets of perspiration flew off of him. "Absolutely."

"And are you gonna tell me your middle name?" she tried to slip in.

"Nice try Sammy! No, I’m not," he said, setting the water back down and heading back to the bag.

"I looked up your birth records," she said, trying to goat him.

"I know," he answered.

"And I called your parents," she added.

"I know that too," he said.

"I still have a few more places to check," she said.

"I told you to give it up, you’re not gonna find out," he said. "Oh, by the way, there’s already a wedding gift inside, I didn’t open it, I thought I’d wait for you," he changed the subject.

"A wedding gift? Already?" she repeated.

He nodded, "yeah, and there’s no return address on it, but I figured we’d open it together. We did send the invitations, so I guess it’s not a surprise that someone sent something so early," he said.

"I’m excited now, how much longer will you be?" she asked, going into the house.

"Maybe another fifteen minutes or so," he replied.

"I’ll start some dinner," she said, heading back inside.

He came out of the bathroom, showered and shaved, wearing some black shorts and a white T-shirt. His nose caught the aroma of some beef stew as he walked down the hallway toward the kitchen.

"I hope you don’t mind leftovers," Rita was saying as she dished out some stew into bowls for both of them. "As usual, Franny gave us enough for a lifetime," she added.

"This is fine," he said, grabbing her into a hug, as she placed the pan back on the stove. She turned into his embrace. She took a deep breath of his fresh scent and cuddled close against his warm body. He rubbed her back.

"I made a salad and some biscuits too," she said, still engulfed in his arms. Neither one of them was in a hurry to sit down and eat.

Chris was the first one to break away. "So, did you open the gift?" he asked.

"No," she grinned, as they both sat down, "I told you I’d wait, we’ll open it together."

"It’s not ticking is it?" he asked, digging in to his stew.

She gave him the look, "No, it’s not. Besides, I don’t think many of our criminal arrests even know we’re getting married."

"Never underestimate the criminal mind Sam," Chris said.

Rita had heard enough, she went into the living room and plucked the box up off the table and brought it into the kitchen. She set it between them. "Let’s open it then and find out," she said.

They both ripped off the brown outside paper, to reveal wedding paper covering the box underneath. They ripped that off next.

"Someone obviously likes to wrap," Chris commented. The box itself was not heavy, in fact it was rather light, for as large as it was. It nearly fit on half their kitchen table. The box was heavily taped. Chris went to a drawer and pulled out a bladed knife and sawed open along the top. The inside was filled with wrapping peanuts that spilled onto the table and floor as they both searched for what was inside. They dug to the bottom and found that there was nothing in the box. They both began to wonder.

A few days had passed. Both the Nielsen case and the Simeon case were at a standstill. The Marshall case was being wrapped up by Geoff and Tre, which meant that the two of them could take over on the Simeon case, while Chris and Rita stayed with the death of Lindsey Nielsen. It was mid-afternoon when dispatch called them with another DB. Chris and Rita were hashing over their notes in her office when the call came in. A man in his forties was discovered in his office at work. It had the outward appearance of a suicide, but officers on the scene had noticed some things that led them to believe that it wasn’t, but rather, made to look like one.

The Brunner office complex was a new high rise dedicated to banking and stock market professionals. Albert Thomas Kinzie worked in an office on the seventh floor. His wrists had been slit, but one of the officers had noticed a deep bruise on the right shoulder of Mr. Kinzie. They carefully checked the other shoulder, not to tamper with any evidence. What they saw was almost the exact bruise on the other shoulder. They surmised that Kinzie’s wrist’s had been slit and then he had been held down until he died. Chris and Rita were impressed by the good work that the officers had down. They agreed with the proposed evidence and checked over the rest of the crime scene. Aside from the pools of blood on the floor, underneath the chair where the body was found, nothing was out of place. They’d wait to get Diana’s report.

They arrived back at the station and Cap immediately greeted them anxiously and called them into his office. Tre and Geoff already sat in there waiting for Chris and Rita to join them.

"Cap, what’s up?" Rita said, putting out her hand to help her ask the question.

Chris followed her in and closed the door behind him. "Wow, full house huh?" he noted.

"Sit down you two," Cap said, taking off his glasses and walking around to sit in his chair. They sat next to each other on the couch. Tre and Geoff occupied the chairs opposite Harry.

"What’s the latest one?" Cap asked Chris and Rita.

"Albert Thomas Kinzie, 43, at first it looked like a suicide, his wrists were cut, but we’ve found evidence of murder, some deep bruising on his shoulders. It looks like he was held down while he died," Chris explained. Geoff and Tre listened intently.

"Cap, what’s going on?" Rita asked.

"I’ve got the brass biting at my heels, they wanna know if these latest three are all tied together," he threw out to the four of them.

Chris shook his head, "it’s too early to tell Cap, we’ve just started muddling through witnesses."

"I agree Cap, there’s nothing yet that’s jumping out at us," Rita added.

"All three have been so different in cause of death too," Tre added, "there hasn’t been anything at the scenes that’s suggested a serial."

"What about you Morgan, what are you thinking?" Cap asked Geoff. Geoff sat there quietly.

"What about it Op?" Chris asked, surprised by his silence, "you got something?"

He finally shook his head, "Nah, just a gut feeling, I guess," he said. "It could be a serial, but I don’t have real evidence, no," he said, putting his head down.

"Alright, listen here, you four need to stay tight on these. There could be a connection, we just haven’t found it yet. Three dead victims in less than six days," Harry began shaking his head, "we can’t let this get out of control people, do we all agree?"

They all nodded.

Chris was busy hauling the extra boxes of his and Rita’s out to the garage or up in the attic. They were finally getting around to cleaning out their third ‘spare’ room. Rita was packing stuff up into boxes and closing them up tight. Chris came back inside, looking slightly exhausted. He slid down alongside the wall in a heap, close to where Rita was working. "You’re not tired already, are you?" she asked, not even bothering to look in his direction. She had seen him slink down the wall and sit on the floor.

"Who me? I’m a slave for your love!" he exclaimed with a grin, grabbing her around her calf , causing her to tumble onto his lap.

"Chris!" she said, a bit surprised.

"Rita!" he answered back, wrapping his arms around her and planting a kiss on her that rocked her to her toes.

"A slave huh?" she asked, breaking away breathlessly.

"Whatever you want me to be, how’s that?" he said softly, brushing his lips across hers, attempting to reach back in for another kiss. She teasingly avoided him at first, but then, she willingly accepted him and deepened the kiss on impact. They enjoyed a few minutes of passion.

Rita broke off again, "how are your vows coming along?" she asked, brushing her thumb along his chin.

"Ughhh," he groaned a little, "I really am your slave huh? Chris do this, Chris do that," he chuckled. "Is that all you can think about right now?" he asked, hoping his passion for her was what she was interested in at the moment.

"Well, you could tell me your middle name then," she persisted.

He simply stared at her.

She knew he wouldn’t tell her. "I’m serious about the vows Chris, how are yours coming?" she said.

He released her a little from his grasp and exhaled. "They’re fine, how are yours," he answered seriously.

"Ok," she grinned.

"And…." He prodded, knowing something else was on her mind.

"Have you given any thought to our ‘homework’ assignment?" she asked, pursing her lips together.

"You mean, what I don’t like about you?" he asked, "how about the nagging?" he joked.

"Funny," she said and quietly added, "have you?"

"Maybe," he said with a smile. "What about you?"

"Maybe," she said, glaring right into his blue eyes.

"We could play this game forever," he said, his eyes sparkling.

Rita took a deep breath, "well, what’s so hard about it?" she asked Chris as well as herself. "We should just get it out in the open right?" she added trying to convince herself.

"Yeah, we should," Chris said, breaking eye contact with her.

She laughed a little, "What is so hard about this? You go first, it’s ok, you won’t hurt my feelings, I promise," she said, appearing to toughen up before his eyes.

"You’re sure?" he asked.

She nodded, "lay it on me!"

"Ok, now remember, it’s not bad, it just kinda bothers me from time to time," he said, still not making eye contact.

"Just say it Chris," she said lifting his chin.

"Sometimes I think you’re too independent. You’ve got some walls that just won’t break down. I get the feeling, at times," he emphasized at times, "that you just want to rely on yourself, you shut me out," he said, watching her closely for any reaction.

She was quiet.

"See," he said a bit sadly, he knew he had hurt her feelings. "Rita, it’s not all the time and it’s not that big of a deal, it’s part of who you are, that’s all, understand," he asked, "I can live with it, not a problem," he added. "It just bothers me sometimes and I start to think that maybe you don’t need me," he added softly.

She still didn’t respond, but she moved slowly in his grasp, beckoning him to hold her closer. He wanted to tell her right then and there that he loved her reaction. It was very reassuring to him, it made him love her even more. He felt her response right away and drew her closer and laid his cheek right next to hers, he brushed against her tender, warm skin. His hand sought out one of her hands, she welcomed it. He played his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand.

They sat this way for quite a while, finally Chris said quietly, "now that I’ve hurt your feelings, why don’t you hurt mine?"

He could tell that her face had turned upward into a smile, from the muscles moving in her cheek. It pushed along side his face. He smiled in return.

"You didn’t hurt my feelings," she began, "Chris, I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone. I can’t even imagine not having you by my side. I love you. If anything, I feel bad that you think I don’t need you," she said, kissing his cheek. "You’re actually gonna laugh when you hear mine," she said.

"Spit it out then, let’s get this over with," he said, turning his head so that his lips swept her cheek, leaving butterfly kisses in its wake.

"I think you tend to be overprotective of me at times, both at work and here at home," she started.

He loosened up his grip on her almost immediately and let his head fall away so that he could look into her face.

"You are kidding me right?" he said, a bit shocked by her admission. "How can I possibly be overprotective when you’re so damn independent? You all but drive me away sometimes."

Now it was her time to explain. "No, I’m not kidding you," she paused, "Chris, I’m an adult, a police Lieutenant for crying out loud, I am licensed to carry a gun, I know self-defense inside and out. You don’t always have to," she chuckled, "take the bullet for me, so to speak," she added. "And you always have to do everything around the house. Whether it’s fixing something or cooking something, or hauling boxes around. It drives me crazy sometimes," she motioned by letting her hand sail around the room. "You hardly ever let me do anything, and I’m not helpless."

"You’re not only my partner Sam, you’re my best friend and you’re gonna be my wife, I don’t take that lightly. I would do anything for you, including take a bullet," he said with serious intent. "I don’t think loving you is being overprotective," he added. "And if you want to cook, go ahead, I’ll just get used to eating burnt food," he laughingly joked.

She smiled at him warmly, "I know you love me and I love that you do, all I’m saying is that sometimes you go a little overboard. It can be smothering and I’m not used to that. It’s who I am Chris."

He shook his head, there was no need to argue, deep down they knew they both were right about the other, but they now had had the discussion and some new issues were out on the table before them. It was would be up to both of them to remember how the other felt and to try to act accordingly. That would be the hardest part. They sat against the wall in silence, neither one wanting to say anything, neither wanting to move either.

"Couldn’t you have said something like ‘Chris leaves the lid up or whatever," Chris said, trying to lighten the mood.

"But you don’t," she began, "usually! That would have been a lie. We have to be honest, and it was supposed to be about something important, not something petty."

"Well, I could have said that you making the bed every day bothers me," Chris replied.

"It does?" she asked.

He began to inch his way closer to her lips, "you," he said, delivering a feather light kiss to her lips, "never know when you’re gonna," he reached in with a little more force, "need to use the bed during the day," he said, finally losing himself completely to her. She gave in as well.

Geoff and Rita searched through the pages and files of notes they had on the three most recent unsolved homicides, while Tre and Chris tried to make headway with the reports from the labs. They looked for anything that would tie the murders together. The three deaths had varied so greatly that it was going to be extremely difficult to find one piece that may connect them all.

"D, you got anything, anything at all that can tie the three of these together," Chris began, almost begging, "any skin tissue, blood, hair, fabric, anything?" he pleaded. Tre sat on the top of a desk laughing as Chris was acting out his histrionic outburst.

"I haven’t found anything yet Chris," Diana said, pushing him off to the side, so she could have a closer look at victim number two, Sara Simeon. "Your only real chance is with Simeon and Kinzie. Lindsey Nielsen was covered from head to toe with grass, dirt, gravel and whatever else she tumbled through, poor girl," Diana said.

"But there still could be something there," Chris reasoned. "Maybe the killer came down and made sure she was dead, did anyone do a print check at the scene?" he asked to either.

"Chris," Diana began, "you know the odds are stacked against getting prints off a body. You’re more likely to find a needle in a haystack." Diana continued to check over Sara Simeon’s body. Chris wore a look of frustration on his face.

"Hey, Chris," Tre said bouncing off the desk, with his notepad flipped open, "it looks like officers at the scene lifted one from her neck. According to the notes, part of it was smeared, but the platelet of it is down in evidence. I’ll go run it and see if we come up with anything," he said. He walked over to Diana and gave her a searing kiss and quickly exited. "Keep up the good work, baby," he said to her.

Diana stood stunned momentarily, "Whew, I hate it when he does that to me," she said, shaking the cobwebs from her head.

"I bet you do," Chris said with a grin. "So D, tell me, how’s everything? I haven’t had much time to check up on you lately."

"Excuse me? Check up on me? What are you my Dad?" she said laughing.

"No, I’m just a concerned friend. Is there anything wrong with that?" he began, "why don’t people want to be cared for anymore?" he said, throwing Diana for a loop.

"Where did that come from?" she wondered aloud, "I love being cared for. I was teasing you."

"Well, then let me care for you," he said, "soooooo?"

She looked at him with a puzzled look. "No, I think you first. What’s up? Rita’s not letting you take care of her or what?"

Chris cleared his throat and glanced away from her.

Diana didn’t back down, she walked over by him and tapped him on the shoulder, "excuse me, what’s going on? Tell Dr. D all about it."

"Dr. D? That’s cute, cute," he mumbled turning to face her. "You gotta promise not to tell Rita," he said. "She’d kill me if she knew I was telling you this, it’s supposed to be personal."

"I promise," she said with a laugh.

"She thinks I’m overprotective," he blurted out.

"You?" Diana said sarcastically. "Hmmm, let’s see, wasn’t that you that insisted she shouldn’t go undercover a few weeks back when Vice needed her for a night?"

"But…" he tried to say.

"And what did you tell her when she wanted to go to the parole hearing for Sal Buglio?" she continued.

"You know that was up in Tallahassee," he tried to reason.

"Do you really want me to continue? She’s right, you are!" Diana said.

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Chris said.

"Both of your sides. Face it Chris, if the biggest thing that comes between the two of you is that you’re overprotective and she’s too independent, well, I’d say it’s a marriage that’ll last forever," Diana said.

Chris stood dumbfounded. "She told you?" he asked.

Diana knew she was caught. She nodded, "yes, she told me, she’s my friend too. Does it bother you?"

"No, I guess not," he said.

"Listen, I’ll tell you what I told her, you two are a match made in heaven. You know we’ve all known it was going to happen for years. No one can understand what took the two of you so long. Just deal with it Chris, it’s not a bad thing, you just have to learn to handle it, so both of you can live it."

"How’d you get so smart?" he asked.

"Well, let’s see, it’s been nearly two months of marriage and parenthood now, I’m an expert right?" she said.

He grinned, "So you guys are alright?"

"Yeah, we’re great. Chris, Tre is the best thing that ever happened to me. He’s a good man. He just lost his way for a bit. And Joey’s doing so well. You guys need to see him soon, he’s becoming a rolly, polly little handful," Diana said.

"So you’re happy?" Chris asked.

"Chris, I’m more than happy. Really, I am. It’s not always easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything," she said smiling broadly.

"Good, I’m glad," he said, walking over to her and giving her a hug.

"Ooooh, first Tre lays a kiss on me that sends me to the millennium and now a hug from you. A girl can only be so lucky," she said, releasing from his grasp.

"I’d say the girl has it all," Chris replied smiling.

"Me too," she added, "me too!"

Geoff and Rita got more frustrated by the minute. They were busy pasting together suspects and motives on a dry erase board when Chris came sauntering in to Rita’s office.

"You two solve anything yet?" he asked.

"No, what about you guys and where’s Tre?" Rita asked.

"Well, we’re working on the physical evidence side of things. Diana’s checking the bodies for the usual, hair, blood, skin, fabric. We’re hoping to get lucky," Chris explained, looking over their board.

"And what about Tre, where’s he?" Rita asked again.

"Apparently the officers on the scene of Lindsey Nielsen’s murder got a partial body print. Tre went down to run it, to see what we could come up with," Chris said, trying to follow the lines that Rita and Geoff were trying to connect. "What about you guys? Or are you just playing tic tac toe up here?"

"We’re coming up with zilch. These three have no connections that we can find. They are all from opposite ends of the spectrum. They ran in totally different circles, different social classes. I don’t see a connection at all. I think we’ve just got three separate homicides," Rita said.

Chris noticed that Geoff wasn’t saying anything. He continued to study the board.

"What is it Op? Whatta ya thinking?" Chris asked him. He didn’t say anything at first, he was still deep in thought. "Op? Whatta got?"

He got up from the chair he sat in and went to stand closer to the board. "What if the connection isn’t between these people, but rather it’s leading to someone or something. Maybe these people are the clues so to speak," Geoff began.

"I’m not sure I’m following Geoff," Chris said, intrigued by this young detective.

"I’m saying that maybe the killer is leading us to someone ultimately, and these victims are the clues," he said.

"So, what you’re saying is there’s something in each one of these people that will tie to a specific person’s death?" Rita questioned.

"That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s far fetched I know, but call it a gut feeling, I don’t know, but I just think we’re being led somewhere on this. You’re right, these people have nothing in common whatsoever, but maybe they all share one common thing with the ultimate victim," Geoff said.

"That’s twisted," Chris said laughing, "you’ve been watching too many late shows, Op. You need some rest."

"Now, come on, wait a minute Chris, Geoff could be on to something. I think we should give Daniel a call and see if he can lend us some insight into someone’s head," Rita said, giving Geoff a nod and a smile.

"Sure, let’s try, why not, we’re not getting anywhere the way we’re headed are we?" Chris said.

"Ok, good, why don’t the two of you take care of that, and I’ll work on my monthly reports for a bit alright?" Rita said.

"We’re on it," Geoff said, exiting her office, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

Chris looked at her and rolled his eyes, "Why do I always get the babysitting gig?" he asked.

"It’s cuz you’re so good at it Christopher," Rita began, "and you’re not babysitting, you’re working on a case.

"It feels like I’m babysitting," he moped.

"Well, whatever gets you through it," Rita said, "I’ll pay you later for services rendered," she added.

He raised his eyebrows as he stood in the doorway, "Really?" he asked.

"Get going," she said, shaking her head.

Geoff hurried Chris along to Daniel’s office. He was way beyond excited to be able to share his theory with the doctor. Chris still was thinking it was a bit far-fetched. But it was worth a try. A homicide cop had to be open to just about any idea.

Daniel was finishing up with a patient, so Chris and Geoff took seats in the outer office and waited.

"How’s the wedding plans coming along?" Geoff asked Chris.

"Real good, I think everything’s about in place. We’re going through the wedding classes now with the minister," he replied.

"So how did you define love?" Geoff asked laughing.

Chris had to start laughing too. "You had to go through it too huh?"

"Yeah, that class never really changes. You do know that if you make it through the sessions, your marriage will be a piece of cake. It’s a fact," he said, nodding his agreement, "if you drop out of the classes, you’re doomed for divorce. I’ve read some articles on that," Geoff explained.

"Get out," Chris said, not believing him. Fortunately for both of them they didn’t have to discuss it any further, Daniel came out and greeted them.

"Ah, Officer Morgan and Sergeant Lorenzo, this must be business huh? Come on in to my office fellas," Daniel said, leading the way. They followed him and he closed the door behind them. "What’s up guys?"

"We need you to maybe profile a possible serial killer for us," Chris began. "Geoff here has a theory that our latest three homicides might be related."

"How so Geoff?" Daniel asked, taking notes.

"Well, could someone actually be murdering people, who have no connections, but have something in common with one ultimate victim?" Geoff put forth.

Daniel stopped writing and tapped his pen on the notepad. "You mean like a riddle, maybe he’s painting a picture for you block by block?"

"Exactly," Geoff said with a smile. He was happy that Daniel understood the concept.

"It’s absolutely entirely possible," Daniel said.

"What can you tell us about someone who might be doing this?" Chris asked, now becoming more intrigued by the whole idea.

"It’s obviously someone who thinks that he or she can out smart a lot of people. They feel they know more than anyone else," he began.

"So it’s a game for them?" Geoff asked.

"Not really, it’s very real, very serious to them. They thrive on the challenge of one upping someone. They feel that not many people can. And they may even try to make the scenario more challenging to themselves by being sloppy and perhaps leave some clues along the way, if you seem to be falling behind," Daniel said. "You haven’t found anything yet though have you?"

Chris shook his head. "No. Every murder is totally different. There’s no connection between any of the victims, nothing left at the scene," Chris said.

"So the killer knows what they’re doing, maybe he’ll have to bring it down a notch," Daniel said.

"That means another victim," Geoff said sadly.

"It could be, unless you can figure it out before that happens," Daniel answered. The phone on Daniel’s desk began to ring. "Excuse me," he said to Chris and Geoff. He picked up the phone. "Yes, sure, I’ll tell them, ok, thank you," he said, hanging up the phone. "That was for you guys. There’s another victim. A 64 year old man, the address is 1201 Park Avenue," Daniel said.

Chris and Geoff got up quickly. "Thanks Daniel, we may be back to discuss this some more," Geoff said, shaking Daniel’s hand.

"I’ll be here," he said. "Hey, Chris, before you go, when are we going for the fitting on those baby blue tuxes?" he said.

"Two weeks from Saturday, and they’re not baby blue, trust me, ok, and they’re not Duke blue either," he added.

"Hmmm, Michigan blue?" he asked.

"Traditional black alright?" Chris called back from the doorway, "I’ll call you ok?"

"What did you say? 41 points huh?" Daniel kidded him, referencing the Duke-Michigan score from the college basketball game.

"I said as long as I can beat you on the court, that’s all that matters," Chris said, pausing to attempt to get in the last word with his friend.

"You keep believing that," Daniel said, with Chris out of earshot.

Rita was on the scene at 1201 Park Avenue, where some vagrants had found the body of an elderly gentleman. The man’s wife was worried when he didn’t return from a walk. She called the police and they had found him in a back alley nearly two miles from his home. Paramedic’s were called but Calvin Odoms was dead at the scene. The body was partially hidden behind a dumpster. It didn’t appear to be a heart attack, then the paramedics noticed a huge gash and wound to the back of Odoms head. This was definitely another homicide.

"Whatta we got Sam?" Chris said, walking up to her for her initial assessment. Geoff walked over to check the body.

"I hate to say this, but it could be victim number four. And it’s getting weirder by the minute," she said quietly. A hoard of reporters and photographers were beginning to huddle around. "This guy follows the same three block walking route every day, and it’s through his neighborhood," she accentuated, "he doesn’t belong here. Someone dumped him. I’ve got a crew going door to door in the three block area, checking to see if anyone saw him get picked up or something," Rita said.

"I heard over the radio that it was a blunt object to the back of the head?" Geoff said, walking up to Chris and Rita.

"Yeah, maybe a bat, the wound is huge," Rita said. "From what I’ve heard, this guy is a teddy bear. He volunteers at the Senior Center, delivers meals on wheels to shut-ins, and tutors to underprivileged kids three days a week. His nickname is Grandpa," she said, shaking her head in despair. "Why would someone want to kill him?"

"Any robbery involved? Maybe it’s not connected," Chris interjected, hoping for a separate case.

"No, his wallet is still in his back pocket. A hundred thirty dollars is in there too, he was going to buy the kids pizza this afternoon. His wife is hysterical. Her doctor gave her a sedative," Rita said. "She’ll be out of it for today."

"Lieutenant, we’ve dusted the area and have the pictures we need, are you through with the body?" an officer asked her.

"Yeah, you can have the coroner take it," she said, walking back toward her car. The reporters immediately were in her face with microphones and camera’s.

"Lieutenant, can you tell us if this is victim number four?" one of them shouted at her as a cameraman came up in her face.

"No comment right now, excuse me," she said, now surrounded. Chris noticed it and told Geoff to stay on the scene. He went to Rita’s side to help her move through the mob.

"Lieutenant, is it true that there is a serial killer here in Palm Beach?" another asked.

Rita glared at the reporter. "No comment, please, let me through." She felt someone’s hand grab her arm and was just about to turn and slug someone, when she noticed it was Chris, pushing them both through the crowd. It took them several minutes and several more ‘no comments’ to get to their car. Inside the atmosphere was even colder.

"Why did you do that?" Rita finally asked as she started driving the car.

"Do what?" he asked, not thinking twice about getting her away from the swarm.

"Feel the need to lead me out of the reporters?" she answered.

"Cuz there were nearly thirty of them and only one of you," he replied, he still wasn’t catching her drift.

"We just went over this, I don’t need a body guard," she said angrily.

"I thought maybe you needed a partner," he fired right back.

"Well you’re technically not either, remember?" she replied hotly.

He stared at her. She knew he was, even though she kept her eyes on the road ahead of her. He finally turned away and looked out the side window. He made no comment. What would be the point, he thought?

"Look, I’m sorry," she said. He didn’t turn back. "Chris, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m angry and upset and I took it out on you. I should be thanking you for doing what you did and getting me out of there before I did or said something I’d regret," she said.

He shifted his head and made brief eye contact with her. "Really?" he asked. "Cuz I was gonna apologize, cuz you’re right. I saw the mob and just thought I needed to get you outta there. I don’t know why I do that," he said.

"Apology accepted, ok?" she said with a hint of a smile.

He nodded. "So where are we going?"

"I think we both need a break," she said.

They ditched their shoes in the car and walked down close to the shoreline. The beach was nearly deserted. The weather on this particular day was not conducive to beachgoer’s. The temperature was only in the 60’s and the sky was overcast. Seagulls loomed above them, swooping and lunging in search of food.

"Are we here to talk about the cases or to take our minds completely off of work?" Chris asked, knowing that Rita always used the beach to sort out her thoughts.

She grabbed his arm between her arms and hugged it. He smiled and placed a kiss in her hair.

"Well?" he asked again.

"Can’t we just hold on to each other and forget everything?" she asked in return.

"For awhile or forever?" he asked.

"That would be the former," she said, "though the latter has some definite merit too."

He pulled his arm from her grasp and wrapped it instead around her shoulder, keeping her close to his body.

After nearly walking a mile, Rita started to talk. "This is really beginning to scare me Chris," she began.

"What, us getting married or these homicides?" he said, unsure of where she was heading.

"The homicides!" she said, "why would you think the wedding?"

"I just want to make sure we’re on the same wavelength, that’s all," he said. "And with your comments in the car, well, I guess I wanted to make sure. I’m really sorry I did that back there."

"Chris, are you unsure about the wedding?" she asked.

He stopped the both of them from walking and turned to face her. Their eyes met and locked. "No, I’m not unsure, I’ve been sure for nearly a year. I’m not nervous, in fact I plain ‘ol can’t wait till the day comes when you will be my wife and I will be your husband. Ok?" he said, shaking his head affirmatively.

"I feel the same way," she said, setting her head to rest on his chest.

"And so, Rita Lee Lance, why are these homicides beginning to scare you?" he asked, holding her close for a little while longer. "We’ve had serial cases before," he added.

"Are you sure it’s a serial?" she asked him, breaking the hug, they started to walk again, this time holding hands.

He laughed. "I’m not sure of anything right now, there’s no connections, every murder has been different. None of the victims have any tie to the others. Maybe all the freaks have been let loose on our fine streets," Chris said.

"Geoff’s idea scares me too. I mean, if it’s leading to someone, how are we ever gone figure out who? The clues are endless right now. These people were all so different, where do we start to decide what the clues are and what’s gonna add up to complete the picture?" she rambled.

"Hey, we don’t know this yet," Chris began. "It’s only been a week. This is gonna take some time," Chris tried to reassure her. "It might not even be a serial, remember?"

"Well, how many people are gonna keep being killed Chris. We’ve got four deaths already," she said with passion.

He interrupted her. "There’s no reason to loose our heads over this. We gotta stay focused, keep our cool. And not just for the reporters, but for Tre and Geoff, they’re learning from the example we set. We can get through this, we’ve had tougher assignments," Chris said.

She smiled as they headed back up to the car. "I know, I know you’re right, that’s why I wanted to come down here, to sort it out and clear my head."

"Hmmm, really? I thought you just wanted to be alone with me?" he said, giving her a grin.

Back at the station, things had not improved. The hoard of reporters had moved from the scene of the crime to the department’s media hall. They waited impatiently for a debriefing into the death of the latest victim. Rita and Chris strode right into the middle of the chaos. Harry was trying to be diplomatic and was failing miserably at it. He spotted Rita and motioned for her to come up to the podium. She reluctantly moved forward, past the group, falling in beside Harry. Chris stood in the back of the large media room and watched. Rita looked calm and collected. Hopefully the walk on the beach had helped.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Rita Lance, an eleven year veteran on the force and also the officer in charge of these recent homicides," Harry was introducing her to the reporters.

"Lieutenant Lance, are these four victims, the work of a serial killer?" one young woman asked her.

"We have no evidence yet that suggests a serial killer, but we are keeping the idea in the back of our heads for no. We’re not ruling anything out yet," she directly answered.

"Is there some kind of a pattern?" another asked.

"Not that we’ve determined as of yet, that’s why we’re still investigating them as individual homicides," she said.

"Well, what about the safety of the citizens of Palm Beach? Is there some killer running loose just killing people?" an elderly reporter asked.

"Ted, you know better than that," Rita said, patronizing the seasoned reporter, "the citizens of Palm Beach are safe. At any time, you should be cautious, try not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, watch out for anything out of the ordinary and so forth. The city is safe," she reiterated.

"How many officers are working on these cases?" another asked.

"We have four regularly assigned officers in homicide and we’re in the process of getting some additional help from the department. We’re putting in a lot of time on this. We want to solve these cases and bring the suspect or suspects to court," she said.

"Has there been any artist rendering or sketch of a suspect or suspects?" a reporter shouted from the back of the room.

"No, not yet. If anyone has seen anything suspicious, as usual, we ask you to come forward and give us a hand," Rita said. She closed by adding, "Thank you for coming," she said, following Harry off to a side room.

The reporters milled around, some did stand-ups or closers, and then the room finally cleared out. Chris stayed in the back, watching for anything or anyone suspicious. He didn’t see anything, except for Daniel, who stood near the other corner, apparently looking for the same thing.

Chris walked over to him. "Daniel, you’d make one hell of a detective, you know?"

"I’ll take that as a compliment, I think," he began, "but, I love my office chair a little too much to give it up for leaning against a wall, looking for weirdo’s. Did you spot anything unusual?" he asked Chris.

"No, I know most of these journalists, didn’t see anyone out of place, what about you?" he asked.

"Nah, but it was worth a try, right. Your guy’s gonna slip up pretty soon," he added.

"You keep saying guy Daniel, why’s that?" Chris asked him.

Daniel chuckled, "No reason, I suppose it could be a woman, though the methods of murder seem to me to indicate male. I guess it’s merely a hunch."

"Why do you think he’s gonna slip up?" Chris asked.

Daniel paused, "Well, he wants someone to play with him so to speak. And if you guys keep getting too far behind, well, trust me, I think you’re due to find something that will click."

"I just hope it’s not another body," Chris said.

"We all hope the same thing Chris," Daniel added.

Rita was busy in the squad room, getting updates from Tre and Geoff, when Chris walked in. She glanced up and made eye contact with him and motioned for him to come over and hear the latest.

"What’s up?" he said, joining the threesome.

"The lab guys are still working on that print off of Lindsey Nielsen, they’ve been running it statewide so for without turning anything up, now they’ve started running a nationwide check. Keep your fingers crossed, maybe we’ll get lucky," Tre said.

"Yeah, but it’s still not gonna tie us to the other victims," Geoff interjected.

"Maybe because they’re not related, one way!" Tre shot back at Geoff, getting a bit upset with Geoff’s serial theory.

"My theory is valid and plausible Tre, it’s our job to figure it out, or are you waiting for something to just fall in your lap," Geoff replied, not backing down from Tre’s mean spirited comments.

"Hey, that’s enough," Rita said, raising her voice, Chris held back, this was her territory here as the supervisor and he knew she could easily handle this outburst. "We" she began, circling to the four of them, "are on the same side remember? We have to work together. Everyone here knows what their job is and what it takes to do it. Is that understood?" she asked.

Tre nodded, "yes ma’am." He turned to Geoff, "Sorry man, I’m just frustrated, I feel like we’re loosing the battle here," he explained.

"Yeah, I know, I apologize too, you could be right, maybe they’re not related," Geoff said.

Chris grinned at the three of them. "There, there, now don’t we all feel a whole lot better boys and girls?" he asked.

"I’d feel a whole lot better if these cases were solved," Geoff said.

"Listen, it’s getting late, we’re all beat, let’s all call it night, we’ll start fresh in the morning ok?" Rita said.

Geoff and Tre nodded and packed up and left for the night. Rita went back to her office and Chris shut down his laptop and went into her office.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Uh, Chris, I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on, I’ll see you at home later ok?" she asked.

"No, not ok, you need some rest just like the rest of us, come on, the paperwork will still be here in the morning," he said.

She didn’t budge, "Chris, I’m serious, some of this stuff was due back to the Chief over a week ago," she said, burying herself in the stacks on her desk.

"What’s more important, some signatures or solving four homicides?" he asked.

"The four homicides," she replied, foiled by his logic again.

"So don’t you think the Chief will understand if it’s another week before he gets his paperwork?" Chris asked.

She sighed and shook her head, "well, I have to do payroll," she said.

"Let me help then, two heads are better than one," he said, pulling a chair close to her desk. The two of them worked for about another hour and a half.

They walked out to the parking ramp and Chris unlocked the passenger door for her and closed it behind her. He walked around to the driver’s side and began to drive home.

"Oh, hey, I talked to Howie, and he’s all set with ‘John Doe’ to play at the reception. Isn’t that great?" Chris said.

"Yeah," Rita said softly.

He scowled his face and briefly turned to get a look at her. "You don’t sound to excited, I thought you liked his band?" Chris asked.

"Hm? What? Yeah, I like it fine, that’s wonderful, I’m glad they’ll be able to play," she said, absently.

"Can we forget about work for awhile?" he began, "let’s talk about the wedding alright?" he continued, "this is Chris the fiancé talking here, not Chris the subordinate."

"Chris, I’m really tired, do we have to?" she asked, with a sigh.

"Sure," he said, "I just hate to see you letting this eat away at you."

"I’ll be ok," she said and paused, "it’s these serial cases, they just get at me. They’re so intense, so ravaging, life after life snuffed out. It’s a race against the clock, I hate it. I’m so angry," she said, running her hand through her hair. "Thank you Chris the subordinate and Chris the fiancé for being so understanding," she chuckled at his positive demeanor.

"It’s such a waste, you’re right," he said, reaching his hand over to rub her leg. "And I’m here for you, always, in whatever role."

"I know. And you’re right too, let’s talk about the wedding," she said, "or even better, the honeymoon. I picked up the plane tickets yesterday," she said.

"And you’re first telling me now!" he said surprised. "What? Were you gonna go without me?" he asked.

"Not hardly. I wanted to surprise you, but we’ve been so swamped, now seemed like a good time though!" she replied. "And I got the accommodations all set too, all confirmed, everything is all set," she said with a smile, taking his hand into hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Sam, that is terrific, can you believe it? TWELVE days in Hawaii, just you and me, aaaahhh, I can’t wait," his grin lit up inside of the Jeep.

"So, you’re happy we went with Hawaii?" she said.

"Sammy, I’d go anywhere with you, but believe me, from what I’ve heard, Hawaii will be awesome," he said.

"You’re gonna do a lot of sight seeing then?" she teased.

"Oh, I’ll be seeing the sights, believe me, I’ll be seeing them," he replied. He kept grinning for awhile. "I still need to make plans for our wedding night," he started.

"Chris, we can just go home, it’s ok," she said.

"Home? No way! We’re doing this wedding up right, cuz this is the only time we’ll ever do it. I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry about a thing, just be prepared for the best night of your life," he said.

"The best?" she giggled.

"Yeah, the best, the beginning of many, endless, timeless, sensational moments that we will have as husband and wife," he said.

She grinned at his enthusiasm, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he answered.

Another day meant another murder. Early in the morning, during rush hour, an Palm Beach traffic cop had been killed in a hit and run accident. Chris and Rita were awakened by a call from Harry.

"Yeah, Lorenzo," Chris said, the sleep still in his voice. He breathed deeply and began to raise himself up. Rita stirred beside him. "Yeah Cap, another one? Who? "Where’d it happen?" Rita’s eyes opened and she saw Chris on the phone. She snuggled closer to him, still nearly asleep herself, draping her arm across his stomach, she rubbed tenderly, settling against him. He smiled down at her and put his arm around her.

"Who is it?" she asked.

He covered his hand over the receiver and mouthed the word ‘Cap.’ She slowly slid up the T-shirt he wore to reveal his stomach. She kissed it lightly, again and again. He raised his eyebrows. Oh, what her touch did to him, he could barely concentrate on hearing the rest of Cap’s words.

"Yeah, ummhmm," he said, trying to pay attention to Cap. Did Harry have any idea what was going on? He certainly hoped not. "Ah, yeah, great," Chris said, having double meaning to both Harry and Rita. Tre and Geoff were on the scene already, so Chris and Rita could get the details from them later. And Rita was now swirling her tongue around his navel. Chris closed his eyes. "Ok Cap, we’ll be in later," he said, fumbling for the hang up button and dropping the phone out of his hand, letting it bang on the floor.

"What did Harry want?" she said, murmuring against the warm, sensitive skin of his belly.

"Nothing near as important as this," he said, taking his hands and reaching for her head. He brought her face up to his and began to kiss her passionately. For awhile, it was a good morning.

Tre and Geoff were busy going over facts and getting together any new evidence when Chris and Rita walked into the office. "Good morning, guys," Rita said, trying to keep an upbeat demeanor in the face of chaos. "Follow me and bring me up to speed," Rita said, beckoning them into her office.

They all followed her and Tre began to speak. "Well the latest is Officer Maria Lamar. She’s a four-year veteran of the force, working traffic for the last two years or so. Spotless record, her Dad and brother are cops, down in Lauderdale, guess it ran in the family. She’s single," Tre said, perusing his notes.

Geoff continued, "she was working at 4^th and Center this morning, they have some construction going on and she was keeping the early rush traffic moving. A new model SUV came out of virtually no where, according to some witnesses, who decided to stick around," Geoff said with disdain in his voice, "and smashed into her, Diana says she was dead on impact. The SUV just kept on going."

"Do we have an tag on the vehicle?" Rita asked.

"Partial," Tre said, "we’re waiting for the millions of matches now. Everyone’s driving these things," he said a bit angrily.

"Did you put out an APB on it?" Chris asked.

Geoff nodded, "Right away, no one’s spotted it though. The description is dark green, not sure if it’s a Jeep or a Chevy or a Ford," he added.

"Or a Dodge or a Mercury or a Honda," Tre said, still upset.

"Tre, we’ll figure it out, come on," Geoff said.

Tre rubbed his eyes, "Yeah, I know. It’s just, well, I knew Maria pretty well, she was a wonderful lady, I just don’t understand how she could fit in to all this," he said.

"None of us do, Tre, but we’ll figure it out, I promise," Rita. "And maybe it’s a hit and run with no connection."

"I can’t understand with all the people around there, we only have a handful of witnesses," Geoff began, "that’s what makes me mad," he said.

"Why don’t the two of you work that angle for awhile," Chris said, "head back down there and talk to who ever is around. You never know, right?"

"Geoff, why don’t you do that?" Tre said, "I’m still working on this print, the lab said they’d have something this morning."

"Ok, good, let’s get busy. I want to get these solved, we’ve had enough murders for awhile," Rita said. Geoff and Tre exited. Chris began to talk to Rita.

"I’m gonna go back and start with Diana, from the beginning, maybe we’re missing something there," he started.

Rita nodded, "yeah, I think I’ll go see Daniel, he might be the only one who can really help us out on this. If this is a serial, we have to find him soon, he’s killing everyday now," she said, frustrated.

Cap walked in, "I’ve got some detectives coming in from Narco and Vice to help, I’m gonna put them on sorting through the witness accounts, to see if there’s some sort of connection that we might be missing. And the FBI is beginning to sniff around, just thought you’d like to know," Harry said, remarkably calm.

"That’s just what we need Cap, someone else in our faces, aren’t the reporters enough?" Rita said.

"Settle down Lance, there’s no use in getting upset now, they’re already in town and there’s nothing we can do about it," Harry said.

"Cap, you ok?" Chris asked, seeing Harry remain rather sedate.

"Yeah, Lorenzo, I’m fine, there’s five dead victims in what less than ten days, how should I react?" Harry said as his voice was rising.

"Sorry, Cap, we’re working on it," Chris said, quickly exiting, leaving Rita and Cap to continue discussing the cases.

"Are we making any headway Rita?" he asked her.

Rita’s eyes told the whole story. "I wish I could say we were Cap, but nothing fits, nothing’s connecting and the bodies just keep piling up. We are working on it, day and night, I promise," she said, grabbing some files off her desk. "I’m going down to see Daniel. He may be the only one who can really help us here."

"That’s just what we need Lance, a shrink solving homicides," Harry said, "what’ll be next?"

"Cap, try to calm back down, we’ll figure it out," she said, touching his shoulder as she walked out the door.

Rita paced around Daniel’s office, picking up books or pictures and glancing at them and setting them back down as quickly as she picked them up. Daniel sat calmly in his desk chair.

"Rita, you’re making me nervous here, just watching you. Sit down ok?" he finally said, after seeing enough.

She spun around and saw him smiling. "God, I’m sorry Daniel. I’m turning into a basket case over this. Everything is totally out of control. I keep telling myself to stick to the basics, but then another victim turns up and everything gets flipped around," she said, still standing.

"Rita, please sit down," he said, now rising himself, motioning for her to sit.

"I don’t think I could sit on you’re sofa, so to speak Daniel," she said.

"Why not? Are we discussing you or the cases?" he asked.

She stared at him for a moment and shook her head, "this isn’t about the wedding Daniel," she said.

"Did I say it was?" he said.

"What are you saying?" she said.

"I’m saying that you seem upset, I think it’s about the case and about you in some way so let’s get that out in the open first, then we can move to the profile," he said.

"You know, you are too good for this," she began, "and I really hate that you know me so well," she added.

"It’s a benefit and a curse, what can I say? Either way, I want to help. So come on, talk, spill out, why is this case getting to you. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?" Daniel said.

"It’s not about the wedding," she said again.

"And I believe you, I know you guys are fine," he said with a smile.

Rita finally walked over and sat down on the couch. "I hate serial cases," she began.

"Why?" Daniel asked. "Lack of control, Miss Lance?"

"Maybe, but it’s no different from any other homicide. For awhile it’s always about lack of control," she said.

"So it’s a time factor thing? Too long of a lack of control and it starts getting to you?" Daniel threw out.

"No, I’ve had my share of unsolved homicides," she answered. "I don’t dwell on them."

"You’re not working with me here, Rita," Daniel said, lowering his voice.

She chuckled and then got serious. "It’s been three years since the last serial case I worked on," she began.

"Yeah, go on," he prodded.

"Chris almost died," she finally said it.

"Ok, there’s the answer, now back up just a bit and give me the story?" he said.

"It’s complicated Daniel, it was the worst time ever in my life. He got shot by this woman who was crazy, then while all that was going on, we were in the midst of a serial killing. He nearly died, I almost lost him then. I knew I couldn’t loose him then and I couldn’t tell him how I really felt then either. I was so alone. Then it got worse. The killings continued, we both got ourselves involved in terrible relationships. It had to be the worst time of my life," she sighed.

"So whatta ya think it has to do with this case?" Daniel asked.

"I don’t know, maybe it’s just a feeling, maybe it’s just bringing up the past. I just guess I associate it with the last one and I don’t ever want to go there again," she said.

"Is there anything else perhaps?" Daniel asked.

"I’m not sure I’m following you," she replied.

"Rita, you said Chris almost died, that’s gotta have more of an effect on you than you’re admitting too, don’t you see?" Daniel explained.

‘You think I think the same thing is gonna happen again?" she said, slowly choosing her words.

"You said it, not me. Maybe you do. Maybe admitting to that feeling can get you past it," he said. "There’s no doubt it’s what’s eating at you and until you can get past it, it’ll always be there."

"And maybe it’ll just eat away at me more," she said.

Daniel nodded. "Have you mentioned any of this to Chris?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Tactful!" he paused. Maybe you should, you know, you two are the best medicine for each other," Daniel replied. "Does he know how you felt back then yet?"

"Yeah, we’ve talked about that, he felt the same way. We both just ignored it," she explained.

"I recommend that you talk to him, soon," he said, leaning forward in his chair, to help emphasize his point, "are you listening?"

"Yeah, I guess it makes sense," she said, taking a deep breath, "how can someone’s mind be so complicated?" she asked rhetorically. "I mean that was three years ago already."

"Do you want the clinical answer or Dr. Mel’s glib response?" he said getting up.

"Oh by all means, Dr. Mel’s glibness, please?" Rita said, also standing up.

"We thrive on it, complications that is, the more the merrier, and the more chaotic it gets the better," he said.

That’s very comforting," Rita said with a hint of sarcasm, "maybe you should have told me the clinical answer."

"Take it from me, the clinical answer is just a bunch of long winded Latin words," he said, heading back to his desk, "let’s talk about this profile now," he said.

"What’s your gut feeling Daniel?" she asked, sitting in the chair across from him now.

"As weird as it sounds, I think it is a serial Rita, don’t you agree?" he answered.

"Yeah, I do, but how are we gonna find anything, if this pattern continues on. Everything has been different, there are no connections between the victims. It’s like a random, serial killer," Rita said, "We don’t know what to expect next."

"No, you’re wrong there. There is a pattern, there is some connection, you just haven’t found it yet, I think you’re missing something. Maybe it’s not about the people, but something about each one that ties them to the ultimate victim," Daniel said.

"So you still think the killer is working his way towards one person?" Rita asked.

"Absolutely, there’s no question in my mind. I saw something like this in Denver about three years ago. There were twelve killings and then after the thirteenth one, the killings stopped. It turned out that it led to a wanna-be chef, he didn’t make the cut into the Gilaeau School for Cooking. The suspect had been passed over twenty years earlier, and all twelve were now in different walks of life. So he started offing the people that had made it way back when. It wound up being a baker’s dozen, the thirteenth victim was the head of admissions," he said. "The ultimate victim."

"Are you serious?" Rita asked chuckling at the humorous story and knowing how warped Daniel could be.

"Swear to God, check it out, it’s a true case," he said with a convincing grin, "but keep looking, there’s something, some clue that will tell you who he is."

"Thanks Daniel, as always, you’ve been a big help," Rita said.

Fumble, Bumble and Incompetence came stumbling into homicide later that afternoon. Chris and Rita were going over some notes when two aging male agents practically busted into Rita’s tiny office, demanding answers and so forth.

Chris stood up suddenly, surprised and ready for confrontation. Rita continued to sit. She was in no mood for arguing or bullying by anyone. "Chris, please?" she said as her eyes asked him to sit down. He waited a few moments and glared at Agents Borowitz and Simmons. They got the message to ease up and he sat back down.

"Look, we want to help, if we can, that’s all we’re saying," Borowitz started.

"You’ve got a funny way of showing it," Rita said, "Tell us what you have then?" Rita suggested, knowing if the FBI was involved, they had to have some suspects in mind.

"We can’t release anything to you yet, till you have something solid for us," Simmons said.

Chris shook his head vehemently, "five dead people isn’t solid enough for you?"

"Chris," Rita said, trying to control his outburst. "Listen, we’ll give you everything we’ve got. We want this solved, we want the people of Palm Beach to be safe again. We don’t care what your political aspirations are or who you feel you need to protect," Rita started, she was on a roll. "If you have any suspects in mind, we’d like to know. We’d like to get this murderer off the streets." Borowitz and Simmons stood there with their mouths open. Rita had put them in their place but good. "Are you gonna help us or what?" They still didn’t reply, though Simmons looked as if he wanted to say something, Chris picked up on it right away. Borowitz threw Simmons a brief look, Chris noticed that too. "Listen, the air in here is beginning to smell bad and I think it’s the two of you, please take your stench somewhere else, we’ve got work to do," Rita said. Borowitz and Simmons left without saying another word.

Chris was also surprised by his fiancée’s choice of words and her toughness to deal with the likes of the FBI. When the ‘stench’ cleared out, he began to speak. "Damn Sammy, where’d you learn all of that?"

"All of what?" she asked.

"You shut those two up tighter than lockup in maximum security," Chris said chuckling.

"Well if they’re not gonna help, I don’t want them around. What good are they? They’ll just be in the way," she said.

"I think we should put a tail on them, I get the feeling they know exactly who the suspect might be," Chris said. "Maybe we can solve this thing sooner than we thought."

Rita was already on the phone before Chris got out his words. When Borowitz and Simmons would leave the building, someone from PBPD would be right behind them.

Late in the evening, nearing 10pm, Chris was giving up on the FBI goons. They were locked up tight in a cheap motel room. Two units watched the tiny, rundown motel. If they were going anywhere, PBPD would know it and alert Chris right away. He called Rita’s cell phone, from outside the sleazy motel. "Hey Sam, it’s me, where you at?" he asked

"Still at the office, trying to piece some things together," she said, sounding distant and distracted.

"Sammy, you ok?" Chris asking with concern.

"Hmm? Yeah, ok, I mean I’m ok. I’m waiting for a call back from Mrs.Odoms. She said she’d call here tonight yet," Rita said, still sounding miles away.

"You sure Sam, it’s almost 10 already, what’s so important anyway? You got something?" he asked.

Just then the regular phone in her office started to light up with a call. "Maybe Chris, I gotta go, can you meet me back here, I got another call," Rita said.

"Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty," he said hanging up and heading back to the station.

The office was mostly dark, except for the small desk light that was on in Rita’s office. Chris spotted her, sitting back in her chair, staring at the board that she and Geoff had started working on days before.

He came and stood in the doorway and smiled at her. She looked a little tired and he thought she was looking back at him. He waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he cleared his throat and she broke out of the apparent trance she had been in.

"Chris?" she said, her voice quivered a bit.

"Sam? What is it, what’s wrong?" he said, now becoming overly concerned.

"I know who the ultimate victim is," she said, looking directly at him.

(Ok…everyone….I did this to you in the last episode too and I enjoyed it so much I thought…hey why not try it again….this is a commercial break. Maybe a test of the emergency cable network system…If this was an actual emergency…you would be informed where to turn to for more information. This concludes the test of the emergency cable network system…We now return to normal programming…..

Announcer Voice…And now back to Silk Stalkings on USA…

Chris’ face filled with fear just from the tone in her voice. "Who is it Sammy?"

"It’s me Chris," she said, pointing to the board.

He came into the office now, "Whatta ya mean it’s you?" he said, wanting desperately not to believe her.

"It’s all here, all the victims and Mrs. Odoms just confirmed it," she said.

"Start at the beginning Rita, are you adding everything up correctly?" he asked.

"Come here Chris and look, see for yourself," she began. Chris walked around behind her and began to study the board. She was right. It looked like it all added up to her, or it could be a coincidence. "The first victim, Lindsey Nielsen, a fitness buff, runs nearly every day at Perinot Park, has a fiancé, he looks like you, a near perfect life. Sound like anyone you know?"

"That’s a bit of a stretch Sam," Chris said.

"Then let me continue then. Victim number two is Sara Simeon, the author of romance mystery novels. What’s my favorite past time?" she said.

"Work, right?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

She ignored the comment and moved to victim number three. "Albert Thomas Kinzie, a single father of one daughter, age seven. His death is made to look like an apparent suicide. His business was also starting to waver. Does this ring any bells?" she said.

He didn’t comment.

"Victim number five is Maria Lamar, a female cop, working her way up through the ranks on her own," she kept explaining.

"You skipped number four, what’s his connection?" Chris wondered how the old grandfatherly gentleman could possibly tie in to Rita.

"Calvin Odoms," she began, standing up to put the final clue on the dry-erase board. "His wife was so upset, see Calvin had just gotten out of the hospital a few days earlier. She thought he was safe and sound and well," Rita said.

"Rita, what is it? What was he in the hospital for?" Chris asked, nothing clicked for him.

"He tutors at an elementary school. He contracted chicken pox," she said, writing the words on the board. "It’s someone who knows all about me," she shook her head slowly, "it’s so creepy."

Chris was convinced too. He walked over to Rita and held her tightly, but only for a few moments. Rita accepted his strength without hesitation. Deep down she was scared, it felt good to have Chris beside her. Here she had been worrying about Chris and the last serial case they had worked on and it was her now, who was in danger. Chris pulled back, remembering that the last thing Rita would want would from him right now was to be smothered and protected. He wanted to give her the independence she craved, during these stressful times. He wanted to hold her forever and tell her that he’d never let anyone ever hurt her, but he knew that would drive her even more crazy. It was killing him, but he knew it was what she wanted. She had told him so. "Chris?" she suddenly felt cold, as she saw him step away.

"Now we have to figure out who," he said, a bit of apprehension in his voice as well, he knew they needed to solve this, but he also wanted desperately to protect her from harm. She heard the strain in his voice. She stepped closer to him and took his hands in hers and squeezed softly. He didn’t understand her reaction at first. She stared into his eyes. "We’ll figure it out Sammy, I promise," he said, still keeping his distance.

"Chris, I’m scared," she said, waiting for more of a reaction from him.

"We can start going through old files and see what we come up with," he said, knowing he just wanted to hold her and tell he take care of her, but forcing himself to be all business now.

"Chris," she said with a long pause, not quite understanding his distance, "Chris I don’t care about that now, I need you," she paused, reaching out to bring him close, "just hold me and tell me that everything’s all right, please?" she said softer.

It was a starter’s pistol for both of them. He grabbed her instantly and held her again, tight and warm against his body, whispering assurances into her ear, over and over. He had waited till she asked him to hold her, showing immense self-restraint. She continued her life long journey to reach out to him and put complete trust in him, he’d never fail her. This time it was what they both wanted. They stood there, wrapped safely in each other’s arms, until Tre and Geoff came in.

"Ah, excuse us," Tre began, knocking on the woodwork. "We got something and you guys aren’t gonna believe it."

They broke apart and Rita spoke, "what’d you guys find?" Chris cleared his throat.

"We sorta know who the suspect is," Geoff said.

"Sorta?" Chris said, "what’s that supposed to mean?"

Geoff looked at Tre for some kind of support and Tre motioned for him to continue. "Well, it was my gut feeling, see we’ve been trying to run that print that we lifted off Lindsey Nielsen’s body. And nothing was coming up, not in the city, not in the state, across the country or even the international database. So I took a chance and had Diana try to match it up with a print we pulled from Rod McLeish months ago, off the desk. Remember, it didn’t show up anywhere either. Well, they’re a match. A perfect match."

"Hot Rod?" Chris said, "that sonofabitch?" Chris couldn’t believe that he had surfaced again.

"Oh God Chris," Rita said, "that’s gotta be it. He knows all about me and I bet he’s tied in with the FBI somehow I bet. Maybe witness protection or something," she said. "That’s why we were never able to trace him."

"He’s some psycho and the FBI is protecting him. I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance. He’s trying to kill you, and he’s killed five people already," Chris said hotly.

"Whatta ya mean? He’s trying to kill Rita?" Tre asked.

"Yeah, that’s what the clues add up to," Chris said. Geoff had come in and was looking at the board.

"Odoms had the chicken pox?" he asked rhetorically. "We gotta find this guy and fast," he added.

"I know where I’m gonna start," Chris said, getting ready to leave, forgetting momentarily that this someone, McLeish or whatever his real name was, was out to kill Rita. "And when I find him, I swear I’m gonna kill him this time," he said hatefully.

Tre still stood in the doorway, blocking his path, "No Chris, Geoff and I will go see those FBI agents, you need to stay with Rita."

Geoff nodded his agreement, "yeah Chris, we can handle this."

Chris glanced around at both of them and focused on Rita, he shook his head in agreement, giving up on his initial impulses. "Yeah, you guys go ahead, make sure they tell you, cuz I want this guy, I want him myself."

"We’ll be in touch, come on Geoff, let’s go," Tre said. They both headed out for the cheap motel and agents Borowitz and Simmons.

"Now whatta we do?" Rita asked Chris.

Chris took a deep breath and gave her a half smile. "We are goin’ home," he began, "until we know where he is, there isn’t anything else we can do." He watched her closely. She just stood there. "Rita, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you."

"I know," she tried to smile back. "You’re right, let’s go and let’s try to forget."

Chris pulled the Jeep up into the driveway. The friendly little neighborhood was quiet now. A few lights dotted the windows of the houses that made up the block. Chris let out a yawn as he and Rita got out of the Jeep and headed toward the sliding door by the back of their house. Chris nearly tripped over some bags of garbage that were on the patio. They had both forgotten to set it out on the curb earlier in the day.

"I’ll take care of that right away," Chris began, "let me just unlock the door for you," he said as he placed his key in the lock and slid open the door, holding out his arm for her to enter.

"Thank you sir," she said, going inside, while Chris turned and picked up the bags and carried them down to the curb.

The inside of the their house was dark as Rita went inside to the other side of the kitchen to flick on the light switch. She left the sliding door open, knowing that Chris would soon be following her in. Before she could turn on the light, someone grabbed her from behind and covered the scream that sounded from her throat. She tried to kick him and squirm away, but the element of surprise was on his side and he was so much larger than she was. It was McLeish. Rita knew instantly by the heavy scent of cheap cologne he wore. She recognized it right away. Thank God Chris was nearby.

Meanwhile, Chris was at the curb, dropping the bags down when he spotted Mr. Webster, a.k.a. as ‘Web,’ his neighbor from next door, doing the same thing. "Hey Mr. Webster, how are you sir?" he said, meeting the older gentleman halfway between the two houses.

"Not bad, Chris, not bad and how’s about yourself and Rita?" he asked in return. "A little late tonight huh? I saw Rita on the news yesterday, that’s some case the two of you are working on, any leads yet?" he commented, not letting Chris get a word in edgewise.

"We’re doing just fine, and no nothing to report yet on the homicides," Chris said with a smile. He knew Mr. Webster enjoyed the fact that he was living next door to police officers. He always wanted them to tell him stories of their cases. He was a widower and enjoyed living vicariously through others. Chris and Rita humored him as often as they could. He was very kind to them, often loaning or borrowing them something or another for their house and always ready to dish out some "64" years of advice, as he liked to say. He was a bit lonely. He also shared a love of basketball with Chris. Chris found out that he had coached and taught at a Minnesota high school for nearly forty years. He and his wife had retired to Florida, she died two years ago. "You’re up kinda late tonight?" Chris said, continuing to make conversation.

"Watching some basketball on the TV, to help pass the time you know?" he answered a bit lonely. Chris decided to chat with him for a few minutes more.

"Who’s playing Web?" Chris asked.

"Marquette and Cincinnati, Cincinnati is all over them, they’re a team of bruisers, they pound on people," Web described.

Chris chuckled, "yeah, they’re tough, you ever coach a team like that Web?" Chris asked.

"Nah, we were just a bunch of farmer’s you know, tall and lanky Swedes. We used our brains, not our brawn," he said laughing. "Besides it’s all about defense anyway Chris, you know that," he added.

"Yeah, you got that right, anyone can put the ball in the hole, right?" Chris said.

Web nodded, "I woulda liked to coach you Chris, I like your attitude," Web said. "It’s work you know, and you got the right kinda work ethic."

"Well, thanks Web, I woulda liked that too," Chris said, "listen, I gotta get going, busy day tomorrow, maybe we can solve a case or two," he said, "good night."

"Good night Chris, say hello to Rita ok?"

"Sure will," Chris said, strolling back up his driveway.

Tre and Geoff arrived at the stakeout scene and asked the units if there had been any movement. Neither team had seen anyone come or go. They decided to go have a chat with Borowitz and Simmons and try to find out what they knew about Rod McLeish.

They walked up to room 105 and began to pound on the door. There was no answer. They knocked again and again. Finally Tre called out that they were police officers, that they should let them in. There still wasn’t an answer. The patrol cops swore up and down that no one had come or go, in the front or out the back. There were no other ways out. Tre sent one of them to the office for the master key. He returned and they opened the door and saw the two agents sprawled on the beds, both lying in pools of blood, both shot point blank through their heads.

"Oh God," Geoff said, seeing the mess that stretched out before them.

Tre was remarkably cool, "Turner, get the coroner down here and a complete team of lab guys. Get on the horn to Harry and tell him to get over to Chris and Rita’s house, go now, move," he shouted. "Let’s go Geoff, we don’t have any time to waste."

Chris walked back on the patio and went inside. The light was still off in the kitchen and Rita had left the door open. She must really be tired and stressed to be so absent-minded he thought as he entered and called out for her. He barely got his feet inside the house when something clubbed him on the back of his head and sent him sprawling on the kitchen floor, knocking him out cold.

After a few minutes, he began to come to. The kitchen light was now on. He was still lying on the kitchen floor, face down. He could feel some blood in mouth, his lip must have got cut when his head hit the floor. He turned his head to the side and saw two sets of feet sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the room. He knew one set belonged to Rita. He assumed the other belonged to McLeish. He groaned a little and tried to turn over, his hands were handcuffed behind his back. McLeish stood up and came over to him and kicked him in the stomach, and helping him turn over. Chris let a grunt as he was kicked and then he saw Rita sitting handcuffed to the refrigerator as well as gagged.

"Hello, Christopher, remember me?" McLeish started, looking down on him smugly.

"Yeah, unfortunately, I do," Chris said. "It’s hard to forget someone you want to kill," he added.

"You know, you’re right about that, because I feel the same way," McLeish said. "See, you two were close, but you got the wrong person," he laughed. "I don’t want to kill her, I want to kill you Christopher. I wanted to from the first day I met you. You thought you were so much better than me," he laughed again.

"I know I’m better than you," Chris said, "just look at yourself, look at who you are, you’re nothing but a murdering, lying, criminal. You don’t even have your own identity. You’re a nobody," Chris said.

McLeish turned back and looked at Rita and rubbed his head. "You, you shut up," he stammered a little, turning back and looking down at Chris. "Did you get the wedding gift I sent you?" he asked.

"You sent that?" Chris asked. "There was nothing in it?" he said. "What was your point?"

"Well, you two have everything right? What could you possibly need?" he said explaining the gift.

Chris knew he was close to the kitchen counters, so he slid closer to them and used them as a support to sit up a little. "So what’s your plan, Hot Rod?" Chris asked, utilizing the nickname he coined for this piece of garbage. He also looked over to Rita and reassured her with his eyes.

"I told you, I’m gonna kill you Christopher," he said.

"Oh yeah, how?" Chris began, "let’s see, you’ve already shot someone, and cut someone’s wrists, then there was the bat to the back of the head, the strangle and the hit and run. You’re pretty creative. What have you got in store for me?"

"I’m gonna kill you by killing her," he said cynically. He walked over to Rita and grabbed a handful of her hair. Frightful defiance flared in Rita’s eyes. "See I’ve been watching you two for months now, so close and so in love," he paused, "you both make me sick."

"Listen Hot Rod, if you want to kill me, then do it, leave Rita outta this," Chris said, just keeping him talking and not acting.

McLeish nodded his disapproval. "I can’t do that Christopher, don’t you see, if I really kill her, you will die too, just like me, just like I am right now, your insides will be torn apart and you’ll merely be a shell of who you are now, just a shell," he said cryptically, still aggressively holding a handful of Rita’s hair.

Chris wasn’t following Hot Rod’s psychobabble at all. Whoever McLeish was, something horrible had apparently happened in his own life to make him turn out this way. Unfortunately he was in control of the whole situation now. "You know the FBI is on to you too," Chris said, trying to figure this guy out.

"They were, they’re not anymore, I’ve taken care of them, thanks to your tail. They’ve been chasing me for months, it’ll be a few more months now till they find me again," McLeish said

"Who exactly are you anyway, you just do this for kicks?" Chris said.

"I am now, I didn’t know any of those people, but I found out so much about the two of you, that I searched them out. I usually have more of a reason behind every person I’ve killed," he explained.

Chris shook his head in disgust, "you make me sick," Chris said.

"You know what? I think I’ll kill her slowly, Christopher, so you have to watch the life fade out of her, minute by minute, second by second. Maybe I’ll cut her slow and let her bleed, right here, right in front of you," McLeish was saying.

Chris needed to think. If he could keep McLeish talking and not taking any action, and figure out how to get out of the handcuffs he was locked in, he and Rita might stand a chance to get out of this one after all. His mind had a quick image of Web, his thoughtful and helpful neighbor. One of his early suggestions to Chris had been to keep a small dish or tray of various nails or screws under the sink, that way if you needed something in a hurry, you’d know right where to turn. The sink was just a set of cupboards down. Chris slowly began to inch his way toward them. If he could get to them, maybe he could pick the lock on the cuffs.

"Maybe I’ll strangle her, a little at a time, would you like that, Christopher?" McLeish said, putting his hands around Rita’s neck and slowly squeezing. He saw Rita’s eyes fill with fear.

"Hot Rod, you sonofabitch, lets talk about this?" Chris pleaded. He still had one cupboard to go.

Rod released his grasp on Rita’s throat and she took a gasp. "See, Christopher, this slow, torture method works. Two for the price of one," McLeish said pulling the door of the refrigerator open, causing it to smash into the back of Rita. Chris saw Rita’s head get banged and it began to kill him inside even more. He couldn’t let this happen to her. He watched her closely, it looked like she was ok for now. Hot Rod grabbed a beer and slammed the door closed again. "Maybe it’s Miller time first," he quipped, opening the bottle.

This had given Chris enough time to move in front of the sink cupboard and reach in quietly to grab a small nail. His fingers worked furiously and carefully to pick the lock on the handcuffs. Rita could tell he was up to something. Chris main service issue gun was missing from his holster, but he knew that McLeish had forgotten about the second piece that nearly every cop now carried. Chris felt it tucked tightly against his leg. Rita knew it was there too. Chris tripped the lock and made eye contact with Rita that he was free on three they’d move into action. She’d cause some kind of distraction, so that Chris could get his spare gun. She started to cough and McLeish turned to look at her to see what was wrong. Chris went for his gun and McLeish stood up and wielded his own gun on Rita, aiming it at her head.

"Go ahead pretty boy," McLeish said. "It’s all gonna end in death anyway, sooner or later, do you want to see her die like this?" he asked laughing.

Chris kept his gun trained on him as well as a frozen stare. "Drop it now," he breathed. "I swear to God if you touch her again, I will kill you," Chris said, deeply.

"I can’t do that Christopher," he said, cocking the trigger on her head.

Chris began to back down. He couldn’t let anything happen to her, he couldn’t get through life without her. McLeish was right about one thing…killing her would kill him. He started to set his gun down on the floor, when he noticed Rita squirming to cause another distraction. Chris dove at McLeish, pushing him up against the wall. The gun went off in the air and as it did, Tre and Geoff came busting in through the front door racing toward the kitchen. Chris heard the commotion and briefly looked toward the noise. McLeish used it to his advantage as he smashed Chris hard in the face, sending Chris tumbling to the floor. He went racing out the back door. Chris quickly tore out of the house after him. They both began sprinting across the backyard, when a stockade fence held up McLeish. He tried to shimmy over it, but Chris caught his leg and pulled him back to the ground. Months of anger and frustration expelled from Chris’ fists as he began to beat the life out of McLeish, over and over, pounding him against the fence and finally into the ground. Rita came racing out of the house and saw the hate pouring out of Chris’ hands. Chris was trying to kill him once and for all.

She called out to him, "Chris, Chris stop," she began, "he’s not worth it, it’s over," she added.

"No," Chris said, out of breath, "he was gonna kill you," he said, his voice breaking, smashing his face over and over.

Chris kept hitting him. Rita came closer, with Geoff and Tre standing behind her now. "Chris, please," she said again, pleading.

The pleaful sound of her voice finally hit a nerve inside Chris. Chris stopped and let McLeish slump to the ground in a heap. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He started to turn around slowly and come toward Rita. As he did, McLeish reached in his pants and pulled out the gun he had and slowly aimed it at Chris’ back. Rita caught the glint of steel in the moonlight and raised her hand, which had picked up Chris’ second gun off the kitchen floor. She put five rounds into him before he got off a shot. It was all over. McLeish was dead.

Later that night, after everything had been cleaned up, reported on and filed away, Chris and Rita were back at their home, in bed. Chris appeared to be sleeping. He faced away from her, so she wasn’t sure, his breathing seemed fairly slow and regular. She snuggled tightly against his body, he didn’t stir. Reaching up, she touched his hair softly with his fingertips. She desperately wanted to talk with him. He finally stirred and his eyes slowly opened. She felt and heard him take a deep breath. She thought she had woken him.

"I’m sorry Chris, I didn’t mean to wake you," she said, kissing his shoulder.

"I really blew it tonight, I lost it," he said quietly. "And I wasn’t sleeping," he added.

She could hear the sorrow and regret in his voice. "Come here," she said, calling him to face her. He slowly turned toward her. She saw the somber look on his face.

As much as she needed to talk to him, she realized he needed to talk to her right now. "No you didn’t, it just happened Chris, it’s all over now," she said, touching his cheek.

He shook his head no, "I would’ve killed him Rita, only you, your voice made me stop," he explained. "A cop can’t do that."

"Chris, you’re also human, McLeish wanted to kill both of us, you know that, and he killed all those people for no reason," Rita said

"I know that too, and I know that we’ve been in this kind of situation before," he said, taking a deep breath, "but I really wanted him dead, not just punished and sent to prison. I wanted to kill him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that before," he said. "I was out of control," he said closing his eyes, and putting his head down.

She reached over and lifted his chin, he looked deeply into her eyes. "It’s over now Chris," she said soothingly, kissing him softly.

He kissed her back gently for a moment. Then he thought about what she had said, "now? And what about next time, or the time after that? Is it gonna get any easier, any better?" He began to shift and he sat up, pulling up his legs. "Am I gonna want to kill everyone that threatens you?"

"Chris what are you talking about?" Rita asked as he suddenly climbed out of bed and went to stare out the window. She watched his usually confident manner, give way to uncertainty.

He turned back around, "I don’t know Sam," he smiled, "I don’t know." She got up and walked over to him. He seemed to have calmed himself before her eyes. She thought that maybe this would be a good time to tell him what had been on her mind. She came to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"This case made me overly crazy too," she began, he held her tightly.

"Whatta ya mean?" Chris asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Chris, our last serial case was when you got shot and nearly died," she started. His eyes met with hers, trying to relate to what she was going to say. "I think deep down, I thought it would happen again. I was so afraid. I don’t know how I kept it together," she explained.

"Oh Sam," Chris said immediately understanding her, pulling her into a hug, "Sammy, that’s not gonna happen again. You can’t think like that," he said.

Rita started to softly kiss his chest and nuzzle against him. He ran his face through the top of her head, his nose breathing in the fresh floral scent of her shampoo. He kissed the side of her neck in return, quietly reassuring her and telling her that it was all over, for both of them. Before long, his arms came up and lifted her face upward so that he could feast on her lips. Tenderly and passionately at first, they ignited their love, each dipping in and out, swirling around, pleasuring the other, giving completely of themselves. This was no battle for control of any kind. This was pure.

Rita peeled off the T-shirt he wore in an easy, slow manner and ran her long fingers up and down his chest, leaning in to kiss him all over. He ran his hands along her back as she did this, looking down at her and smiling from how good it felt. She could turn his emotions around almost instantly. He needed to continue to be a part and he ducked his head down and began to nibble on her neck, along her throat and lightly licking her ear lobe and running his tongue lazily around it. One of his hands came up to brush the hair back off her neck and behind her ear. Rita softly sighed. Chris’ other hand slowly skidded up the pajama top she wore, seeking out a tender, warm breast to softly squeeze. His finger and thumb gently rubbed the tip to harden it, both of their lips smiling against the other’s as it happened. She moved closer to him, rubbing up tightly against him, while kissing his throat. He let a low moan escape from his voice box as she did. He let her touch him and kiss him endlessly, the lower she went, the more he loved it. As she swept around his navel over and over, dipping her tongue inside every now and again, his hands clasped the back of her head tightly, reaching lower, until he found her shoulders, he brought her up to him and once again began to kiss her intensely. This time their tongues waged war upon each other, Chris plunging in and out, Rita welcoming him inside her own first, then changing direction and dancing around the inside of his mouth.

Chris clutched her closer, feeling her body move erotically against his own. His hands gently squeezed her behind, kneading tenderly. They were locked in an all-out sensational mind-blowing, body-numbing kiss. Rita ran her hands through Chris’ hair, over and over, as his hands glided over her backside. Chris finally reached down and picked her up in his arms and lovingly carried her back over to the bed, all the while, their lips remained trained on the other’s, kissing with every ounce of passion they could find.

They broke the kiss as he softly placed her on the downy-filled bed and crawled on beside her. He ran his hands up her silky, smooth legs, his touch, warm and powerful. He was deliberate and slow in his movements, taking his pleasure in every touch and every kiss and every movement that he made. His hands swirled around her inner thighs, as he placed a loving kiss on each side, before journeying upward on her body. He started kissing her stomach, moving upward slowly, glancing up at her satisfied face along the way. She spread her arms over her head and turned and placed her head so she could watch him find pleasure on her body. She smiled. Back and forth he went, finding new delicious spots and curves to give himself delight, as well as to satisfy Rita. She was soft and warm and utterly feminine to him and she always seemed to be exactly in tune with him and what he needed. She was perfect.

His hands and fingertips sensually drew a path along her body, leading his moist, warm mouth and tongue. She could tell from his gentle touch, exactly where he was heading and what he wanted next. His right hand made contact with one of her beautiful breasts. Softly giving it a squeeze at first, he took the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and worked it to a hard tip. Rita reached down with one of her hands and rubbed the back of his head, just as his mouth began to slowly dance around the edges, on its way to the rosy tip.

He lazily made his way across her chest, dipping and playing as he went. His fingers now slid lower, across her stomach, as his kisses moved between her breasts. She finally beckoned him back up to her lips, for a minor battle, and she gently turned over and shifted his body under hers. It was her turn to be equally gentle and passionate. She didn’t disappoint. Her lips and fingers followed along the fine chiseled lines of his body, from his jaw, down his sternum to the flat, solid planes of his stomach. Chris tried to lay still and enjoy all the wonderful things she was doing to him, but before long, his hands began to wander all along her arms and body and through her soft, wavy hair. She glided over every part of his body, tingling across his skin in a pure, dainty way. Her feathery, fingertips and soft lips joyously tortured spot after spot on his electrified body. She put out one of her hands near his mouth and he reached for it with his own and took her delicate, sweet tasting fingers into his mouth one at a time. She looked up and smiled as he did this and shifted her body a bit, so that he now rose off the bed to meet her. Once again their flushed lips found each other’s as they got closer than two people had probably ever been.

Holding on to her tightly, they began to move together, powerfully yet gentle. They began to find their own unique rhythm, perfectly in sync and totally in love, casting away any problems that had been eating away at them.

They laid loosely in each other arms, staring into each other’s eyes, both of them lightly caressing the other, finally smiling, totally satisfied.

Rita continued to stare.

Chris let out a little chuckle, "all right, all right, if you look any deeper, you’ll incinerate me, I’ll do whatever you want, tell ya anything you want to know," he said, not letting it cross his mind as to what she was going to ask. He was merely enamored by her beauty, as well as still coming down from the intense lovemaking they had just had.

"Really?" she asked, with a slightly evil look on her face.

"Yes, yes," he said, "after that, how could I say no to anything?" he said, still not realizing what was about to hit him. She began to grin and he finally caught on. "Except for that," he quickly said.

"Uh uh, no," she started, "you said anything and I want to know and I want to know now," she added, thumping her finger loudly on his chest, beginning to sit up.

He knew she had him. He wiped his hand over his face, "hhhhmmm," he groaned, knowing that her persistence and his lack of resistance had done him in but good.

"If you say it quickly, it might not hurt so bad," Rita teased, anxiously awaiting what his middle name was, like a child on Christmas morning.

"See, you’re already enjoying this way too much. This is very painful for me," he said.

"And you’re stalling," she interrupted, "it’s just a name, how can that hurt?"

"Did you ever hear the ‘ol ‘sticks and stones’ line?" he said, attempting to defend himself. "Names hurt like hell, and this one is a doosey," he added. "Ok, on one condition," he began.

"Ah, there are no conditions, you said you’d tell me, period, now give it up, mister" she said.

"Nope, not till you promise that once I tell you it stays between you and me, and I am not using it at the wedding, agree?" he said.

She smiled, "ok, agreed. Now tell me," she said.

There was a long pause of silence.

"Chris, come on," she said, playfully hitting his chest, stretching out her voice in a pleading tone.

"Robin," he said, barely audible and certainly avoiding eye contact.

Rita started to laugh, and laugh and laugh even harder.

"See," was all Chris could say, shaking his head as her laughter filled the bedroom. He began to laugh too.

She couldn’t stop, through her sniggering she asked, "Your name is Christopher Robin?" she said, letting loose on another bout of laughter.

"Now you know," he said.

"So what, did your parents like Winnie the Pooh?" she asked, still not able to contain her laughter.

"Not exactly," he said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Well, what exactly?" Rita said, still not being able to keep a straight face.

"My Mom did the voice for Kanga in the original Walt Disney cartoon. I guess she just like the name," he explained.

"Oh that is just too much," she said, little fits of laughter bubbled out every time she looked at his face. "I’m sorry," she giggled, "Christopher Robin."

"Go ahead and get it out of your system," he said, trying to be serious, "cuz you promised. I held up my end of the bargain and now you have to too."

"Oh, I don’t know, this is some good stuff," she said teasing, "can you take me to the hundred acre woods?" she joked.

"Sam! You promised," he whined. "And I might not only take you there, I’ll leave you there as well."

"You wouldn’t do that," she said, "and I know, and I always keep my promises to you, don’t I," she said, leaning down and giving him a kiss.

He reached over and turned off the light.

Rita chuckled a little.

"That’s enough now!" Chris said in the darkness.

"Christopher Robin," Rita said laughing.

"Sam," he said nearly begging her to stop.

"Can you help me find some hunney?" she asked, giggling.

"Good night Rita," he said, cutting her off.

"Do Tiggers really love to bounce?" she continued.

"I’m not listening anymore," he answered.

"I’d like to meet Piglet someday," she kept on going.

"I am going to sleep right now," he replied.

Her laughter trailed off into the night…….

The End

The wedding is approaching!

Let me know what you all think….

Thanks to Linda & Lisa for posting the story. I appreciate all the hard work.

Special thanks to Judy…for editing and htmling and for being a true DUKE fan!

And thanks to everyone who takes the time to write and comment. Keep ‘em coming!

And the usual…Chris, Rita, Diana, Harry, Franny, Benny, Ana and Howie belong to Stu Seagall and Stephen J. Cannell and the USA Network…. No infringement is intended.

And now the cast of thousands….some are dead and some are living….were all created by moi.

Geoff, Tre, Marshall, Rod McLeish, Lindsay Nielsen, Wilfred Perinot, Dr. Hennessey, Daniel, Mr. & Mrs. Nielsen, Jay Acren, DeSchmidt and Assoc., Judge Whatley, Rev. Milton Carpenter, Sara Simeon, Ms. Waters, Joey, Connie, Albert Thomas Kinzie, Calvin Odoms, Ted the Reporter, John Doe (the Band), Maria Lamar, Agents Borowitz and Simmons, Turner, Mrs. Odoms and ‘Web’ Webster.

Martha Stewart, Ozzie and Harriet and Neil Young all had their names appear here in this story….aren’t they special!

January 1999