-Detective Mike Riggs-

I walked into my office this morning and was pleasantly surprised to see a message from the coroner. I don't even set my coffee down before I return to the door. I make the trek across town to the coroner's office.

I knock before entering, and he looks up from his work. "Good morning, Detective Riggs. I see that you got my message."

"I did. What'd you find?" I inquire.

"Everything that you'd expect from this unsub, except for the beating, and he left behind his identity." He discloses with a grin.

A lead! "Yeah? How?"

The coroner explains, "You find him, and we'll be able to identify him with this."

The coroner pulls back the sheet to reveal an unmistakable bite mark on her left shoulder.

I look closely at the bite mark. "He never bit before."

The coroner acknowledged my statement. "I believe that you were right when you said that it is someone that she knows. There's an elevated level of anger with all of her injuries. Even though several of her injuries are identical to our unsub's MO, there is obvious overkill in those wounds."

I look at all of her injuries. "Cause of death?"

"As expected, strangulation." He replies dryly.

"Do we have her identity?" I question.

"We do. The forensic team ran the victim's fingerprints through IAFIS (Integrated Automated Fingerprint System), and they came back as belonging to Miss Patricia Dee Conrad. She lives and works in Philadelphia at the Franklin Institute as the children's group activities director. All employees must get fingerprinted due to working around children." He explains.

I'm shocked. "Philadelphia? No fucking way!"

The coroner raises his eyebrows at my remark. "Does that mean something to you?"

"It sure does. Our guy has hit there about five times. I first spoke to the detective on the case there about three years ago. I have been in contact with him for years, but he has had no more cases. Now, this victim connects us with Philadelphia once again." I know right away that I have to contact Detective Lynch.

***

**Ring, Ring**

"Detective Lynch."

"Detective Lynch. Detective Mike Riggs here."

"Detective Riggs, how are you?"

I sighed, "I could be better."

Lynch sounded concerned. "I don't like the sound of that. What happened?"

"I'm sorry to say we have another victim," I said.

"Well, damn! Our guy?" Lynch inquired.

"I am afraid so, but here's the thing: she's from Philadelphia," I replied.

"No shit?" Lynch exclaimed.

"I shit you not. Lynch, there's more. I believe this victim was personal. In addition to his MO, the victim had a severely beaten face, and he bit her," I informed him.

I can hear Lynch take a deep breath, "This could be the break we need to catch this asshole."

"I agree, but I need your help," I admit.

"Anything. What can I do?" Lynch quickly responds.

"I need you to discover everything possible about Patricia Dee Conrad," I requested.

Lynch replies, "I'm assuming that she's your victim?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

Lynch gives me his support. "I'm on it."

"Thanks, man," I say appreciatively.

I hang up with Lynch. My next task is to attain Miss Patrica Dee Conrad's photo to give to the media. Somewhere out there, someone knows something about this woman.

***
-Reed-

Lying awake next to my beautiful wife, I want to touch her slight belly where my child is growing, but I don't want to wake her. I imagine how her belly will grow in the next couple of months. It's tough to imagine. Kandie is three months along, and you still can't tell she's pregnant. What a fucking day yesterday was. I still can't wrap my head around Todd's behavior. It's like I never even knew the guy.

Quietly getting out of bed, I go to the kitchen to start coffee and make a ham and cheese quiche for our Saturday morning breakfast. Out of habit, I grab my phone, which I left charging on the counter last night.

I wake my screen to see five text messages and one missed call from Todd. Shit! I don't want to deal with this guy right now, knowing I must cut ties with him. I can never forgive him for what he did to Cheryl and me. I want to do the guy thing and ignore his ass, hoping that he gets the message. I set my phone aside and continue to gather the ingredients for breakfast. I can't deal with Todd now, especially without having my first cup of coffee.

As I pull out the quiche from the oven, Cheryl comes downstairs and joins me in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Momma," I greet my gorgeous wife.

She smiles radiantly, brightening up the entire room.

I love Cheryl's morning look. Her untamed curls surround her face like a beautiful lion's mane, and her face is fresh and makeup-free.

"Good morning, Daddy,' she says to me with love in her eyes.

I walk over, wrap my arms around her, and give her a tender kiss across her sweet lips.

I hear Cheryl breathe in. "Yum! Quiche! What kind?"

Of course, my woman has food first and foremost on her mind. I smile. "Ham and cheddar."

"That coffee smells so good. I'm going to have to buy some decaf." She pouts.

I give her one last squeeze before freeing her from my embrace. "Orange juice for you, Momma."

My phone buzzes as I am plating our food and glance over at it. Fucking Todd. I ignore it.

Cheryl asks me, "Aren't you going to get that?"

"Nope. It's Todd. He's been blowing up my phone all morning," I say, annoyed with him.

"What are you going to do?" She asks before taking a sip of her OJ.

I sigh, "Right now, I'm ignoring him. I'll deal with his shit later."

Cheryl nods her head in understanding.

I think about how that sounded. "Let me rephrase that. We will deal with Todd's shit later. I want you beside me as I read every one of his fucking texts and listen to his pathetic voicemails. I want you to know that I have nothing to hide."

Cheryl rewards my words with a brilliant smile. "Thank you, but for the record, I trust you."

Those three words mean the world to me.

After cleaning breakfast, I grab my phone and Cheryl's hand and lead her into the living room. We sit on the couch, and I open my five text messages from Todd.

Dude, give me a call when you get this.

I need to talk to you about this misunderstanding. Call me.

I look over at Cheryl, and she meets my eyes. We both raise our eyebrows in disbelief: misunderstanding, my ass.

Pick up your damn phone. We need to talk.

You're pissing me off. Call me.

Come on, Reed. Stop being pussy whipped and pick up the fucking phone!

I look at Cheryl, "Ready to listen to his voicemails?"

Cheryl nods. I hit play.

"Hey Reed, this is Todd. Please call me back. This whole fucking thing was a total misunderstanding; Patty is a fucked up whore. She chose to get into bed with you. I hope you don't believe her shit about being drugged. That's total bullshit. Call me back so we can work this out." He was pissed.

Then I play his most recent message. "Why the hell are you not picking up your damn phone. You don't want to piss me off, Reed. Call me!"

"So, what is the plan?" Cheryl questions.

"I honestly don't know," I confide.

Cheryl thinks momentarily. "I think you need to call him back and settle this once and for all."

"You're right," I agreed.

I stare at my phone for a moment before dialing Todd's number.

*****