Sorry, this chapter took so long! I hope you like it!

-TRBL247

*************

"Let us know if there's anything else we can do for you," Ian suggested earnestly. He glanced between the three Grimms around him and wondered how many would be left when the Grimm murder spree came to a close.

Nick nodded. "We will," he promised. He looked over at Trubel about to ask her if she was ready to leave when the Grimm named Miles stood up from his chair.

"I want to help you guys, too, if I can," he offered.

Trubel turned to him. "You're a Grimm. Whatever's going on affects you, too," she noted. "We'll be keeping you in the loop."

Suddenly, Nick's phone started buzzing in his pocket. Everyone turned to watch him as he checked the caller ID, announced it was Wu, and answered it.

"You got something?" he asked quickly.

"If by something, you mean the murderer's car, plates, and identity, then yes, I believe we do," Wu said enthusiastically over the phone.

Nick put the phone on speaker. "Alright, Wu, let's hear it," he announced.

"On the security footage, we found a black van that stopped near the crime scene around 2:00 this morning. We ran the plates, discovering that the van belongs to a Burt Gerstein."

Trubel nodded in Miles's direction, and he leaned over the desk he had been sitting at and began typing on his computer again. After a moment, he announced, "There are a few matches for that name. I need something else."

"What else can you tell us about him?" Nick asked quickly.

"Well, he is 39, works for a company that makes medications-" Wu began to list.

After a few more keystrokes, Miles said, "Got him."

"What is he?" Hank asked over the phone. After all, if the man was a Grimm he could have been one of the other victims.

Ian, Miles, Nick, and Trubel all looked up at the screen.

"Blutbad," Ian announced. "Which means he could have been one of the people behind the murders."

"There has to be more than just him," Trubel said certainly. "I mean, Angel could've killed a pack of Blutbaden with his eyes closed."

"When we track him down, we can push him to admit who else he's working with," Nick said in agreement with Trubel.

"If you can track him down," Wu challenged.

"We just got off the phone with his boss. He hasn't shown up to work for three days," Hank explained to the group.

Nick exchanged a look with Trubel. "That's right when the bodies started appearing," Nick said.

"That's what we were thinking," Hank said.

"We put an APB out on the van. We'll see if that turns into something. Until then, we've got his home address," Wu offered up.

"So do we," Nick said, looking up at Gerstein's information displayed on the large TV screen in front of him. "We'll meet you there in 20."

Nick hung up the phone and looked at Ian.

"We'll let you know what else we find out," Ian promised. Miles nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, guys," Trubel approved. She started walking toward the door that led to the hallway. "I was thinking you could call Monroe and Rosalee, and I'd call Eve so they can know what's going on," she began planning as she walked. She didn't receive a response and looked behind herself, seeing that Nick hadn't moved and, instead, was staring at the screen with the van owner's face displayed across it.

"What?" Trubel asked.

"I don't know," Nick said. "Something doesn't feel right."

"You mean like how there's a murderer out there and we aren't arresting him?" Trubel asked sarcastically.

"This feels too easy," Nick commented. "What if we're walking into a trap. That might be how they lured in the other victims."

A silence fell over the room as everyone contemplated the possibility.

"I'm with Burkhardt," Miles said. "These people have got to be better than this. How else would they have gotten three of us?"

"Three that we know of," Ian added ominously.

Trubel nodded and then walked back to the center of the room where the others had still been standing. "Okay, what if you're right? It's a trap. Then what?"

"I think you should stay here," Nick told her. Miles and Ian both grimaced, anticipating Trubel's vehement disapproval.

"No, way!" Trubel yelled. "I'm with you on this!"

"It's dangerous for us both to be in the same place at the same time," Nick explained calmly. He could see that Trubel wasn't buying it.

"Or maybe being apart makes us easier to pick off one by one," Trubel insisted angrily.

Nick turned his attention to Ian. "What do you think?"

Ian looked back and forth between Nick's worried expression and Trubel's furious face. He looked uncomfortable as he said, "I think Burkhardt might be right."

"Ian-" Trubel began to object.

"If something happens to Burkhardt, we'll need you even more," Miles helped explain.

Trubel was shaking her head with frustration. It was clear she had lost the battle. She wasn't going to lose the war...

"Would you like to ask Adalind for her opinion?" Trubel asked Nick aggressively. She had him there.

"Enough!" Ian yelled at her. "You work for me, and you're not going to Gerstein's address. Instead, you'll go with Miles to talk to Gerstein's boss. I'll stay here to investigate the case as much as I can, and I'll send a team of agents to follow behind Burkhardt. Deal?" Ian glanced around for approval from all parties.

"Deal," Nick and Miles said simultaneously.

Ian focused his gaze on Trubel.

"Deal," she said unhappily.

"Let's go," Ian said, leading the group out of the room.

*************

"Thank you again for watching the kids," Renard said tiredly.

"It's not a problem," Eve promised him, setting Diana and Kelly's bag of food and toys on the Spice Shop counter. "I can use all the extra help around the shop I can get now that Monroe and Rosalee are taking more days off. And Diana's a great assistant." Eve turned her attention to the young, blonde sorceress that was already pulling books off of the shelves behind the counter.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you two-" Renard began, and then remembered he had dropped Kelly off, as well. "Three," he corrected. "To it."

"Bye, Daddy!" Diana yelled cheerfully to him from behind the Spice Shop's counter.

"Have a good day, honey," Renard said with a loving smile on his face. "Be good for Eve," he added.

Diana smiled back and said, "I will."

"See you tonight," Eve told him with a grin.

Renard nodded and straightened his tie before walking out the door.

Eve looked out the window and watched Renard drive away before flipping the sign on the door to "Open." 

"Mrs. Perkins will be coming in for her order at noon," Eve announced. "Would you like to help me mix it?" she asked Diana.

Diana nodded.

"Page 74 of that book on the top there," Eve said, pointing to the stack of books in front of Diana. Diana's eyes began to glow purple just as the book flew open to the correct page.

Eve laughed. "Let's try that again," she said, shutting the book. "When we're in public, how do we find the page we need?"

Diana sighed. "We use our hands," she said, sounding bored.

"Yep," Eve approved.

"There's no one here," Diana complained.

Eve put her arm comfortingly around Diana's shoulder in an attempt to convey she wasn't upset with her.

"And what do I always tell you?" Eve asked.

"That it's good practice," Diana groaned.

"That's right," Eve said, smiling down at Diana.

Diana smiled back and used her hands to slowly flip through the book's pages until she found the right one.

*************

Rosalee sat on a bench on the front porch of her and Monroe's house, smiling at her husband as he brought her a cup of tea. He had a cup for himself as well and used one arm to hold it while the other wrapped around Rosalee's shoulders as he sat down next to her. Rosalee stretched the green blanket that had been on her lap so that it covered both her and Monroe and leaned her head on his side. Together, they sat, listening to birds chirping and squirrels playing in the trees while the sun rose. Everything seemed perfect.

"This is nice," Rosalee said, leaning her head on Monroe.

He smiled down at her and said, "Yeah. The calm before the storm."

Rosalee laughed at him before sitting up straight again so she could look at Monroe as she spoke to him. "You think starting a family is like a storm?" she asked skeptically, wondering how Monroe could be so cynical.

"A good storm," he said calmly. "You know, like a rainstorm after a drought. It's chaotic, but when you look back, you see how the rain made everything better, that it was worth the storm to get the flowers."

"I can see that," Rosalee said with a smile, remembering how she had heard women in the past say how rewarding raising a child was... And she was raising three. She sighed to herself. "Things are going to get pretty crazy," she told Monroe.

"For the record, things have been pretty crazy," Monroe noted. "I can't remember the last time you and I had a full day to ourselves without having to worry about the shop or Nick's cases..."

"Or somebody dying," Rosalee added.

"Exactly," Monroe agreed with exasperation.

"I'm still getting used to staying home more often," Rosalee admitted. "But Eve's been doing great at the shop... So I guess we don't really have anything to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about..." Monroe emphasized. "We should enjoy it while it lasts."

As if on cue, Monroe's cell phone started ringing. Monroe and Rosalee exchanged an exasperated look before Rosalee said, "You jinxed it."

Monroe checked the caller ID and announced that it was Nick before answering it. "Hey, man. What's up?"

"We have a problem," Nick warned.

"Of course we do," he said bitterly, looking at Rosalee with an annoyed expression. "What do you need?"

"I don't need anything..." Nick began anxiously.

"But?" Monroe asked.

"But I think this is important for you to know. Is Rosalee there?" Nick asked.

Monroe exchanged a worried look with his wife before saying. "Um, yeah. I'll put it on speaker." Monroe clicked the appropriate button on his phone before asking, "Is everything alright?"

"I'm not sure yet," Nick answered honestly. "I'm working on a case involving the murder of three Grimms so far."

"What?!" Rosalee and Monroe shouted at the same time.

"Three Grimms, are you serious?" Monroe asked nervously.

"Yeah," Nick said, sounding just as nervous. "Look, we don't know a lot right now, but Trubel and I want to be extra careful in case these people are targeting us next."

"That's reasonable, given the circumstances," Monroe said snarkily.

"We don't know what they will do to get to us, so I wanted to warn you guys to keep an eye out. There's probably nothing for you to worry about, but I just want to be sure," Nick explained.

"We appreciate it," Rosalee said.

"Yeah, and let us know if you need anything," Monroe offered. "You sure you don't want any help on this?"

Rosalee had to stop herself from taking the phone from Monroe and hanging up. She didn't want him to get involved in Nick's cases now that the babies were on their way, especially a dangerous case like this. Nick knew how she felt, too.

"I'm sure. Just be careful," Nick warned.

"Thanks, man. You, too," Monroe said. He hung up the phone and said, "My God. Three Grimms? How does that even happen?"

Rosalee pulled herself closer to Monroe, and Monroe hugged her tighter.

"Maybe we should go inside," she offered. 

Monroe sighed with disappointment at their ruined morning before agreeing. "I was thinking the same thing."

Monroe stood and helped Rosalee to her feet with one hand while using the other to grab his tea. Rosalee grabbed the green blanket and her own cup of tea before leading the two of them back into the house where they were less exposed to any opportunistic Grimm-killers.

So much for having a restful day off...

*************

The phone in the Spice Shop rang twice before Eve picked it up.

"Exotic Spice and Tea. This is Eve," she greeted.

"It's me," Trubel said. "Something's going down."

"Okay," Eve said apprehensively, waiting for Trubel to explain further.

"Three Grimms have turned up dead in Portland," Trubel informed quickly. "Nick and I are investigating the case."

"You two might be next," Eve warned her seriously.

"I know. At the last crime scene, there was a note that said, 'This situation is too Grimm for a normal cop,'" Trubel informed her. "At the very least, they have their eyes on Nick."

"What do you need me to do?" Eve asked. Her tone was aggressive, and it reminded Trubel of the days when she and Eve went on assignments together.

"Just be cautious. We don't know who these people are, what their motives are, or how far they'll go to keep killing Grimms. They might come after you or-"

"Or the kids," Eve finished.

"Exactly," Trubel agreed. "You got this?"

"No one is getting near them," Eve promised murderously.

"Good. We'll call you when we know more," Trubel promised.

"Okay," Eve said.

Trubel was about to hang up when she heard Eve begin speaking again.

"And, Trubel..." Eve said urgently.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful," she said gently.

"I will," Trubel promised. She hung up the phone.

*************

"So..." Miles began, staring at the road in front of him as he drove. "What's the story with you and Eve?"

Trubel adjusted herself in the passenger's seat, so she was facing away from Miles. She didn't like when people asked about Eve.

"What story?" she asked, playing dumb.

"Rumor has it, you guys were close," Miles said.

Trubel shrugged.

"Are you guys still close?" Miles asked.

Trubel gave him a confused and frustrated look. "Does it matter?"

Miles thought about it for a minute before answering, "Kind of. I mean, I hope we can trust her. She's the one watching Nick's kids, right?"

"We can trust her," Trubel assured.

Miles nodded. The drive was silent for a few moments until Miles asked, "Is she really as scary as everyone says?"

"Only if you're on her bad side."

"Note to self: don't get on her bad side," Miles laughed.

Trubel laughed too, for a brief moment, until her phone buzzed.

"It's Ian," she said.

"What is it?" Miles asked.

"Some files," Trubel answered casually as she scrolled through the documents. "We're going to talk to Gerstein's boss, Joe Reichhardt. He runs a pharmaceutical company that makes anesthetics and psychiatric medications. The business was handed down to him by his father..."

Trubel continued skimming through the documents. "He took over after quitting his job as a medical examiner following the death of his father..."

"What is he?" Miles asked.

"Uh... Let's see..." Trubel said as she looked. "A Geier," she answered. She looked up from her phone. "Which makes sense considering he used to cut open bodies for a living."

Miles made a disgusted face before asking, "Do we think he has something to do with this?"

"I guess that's what we'll find out," Trubel said. "Either way, we know his employee is involved, so talking to him should get us somewhere."

"I hope so," Miles said.

*************

Nick parked his car between two police cruisers that sat vacant while their lights flashed red and blue. Hank and Wu had beat Nick to the scene and walked up to his car when they saw him arrive.

Nick opened his door, jumped out of the car, and asked Hank and Wu quickly, "What happened?"

"Renard sent some extra units with us just in case," Hank explained. "We went in and found Gerstein on the floor. He's been dead for about 24 hours."

"24 hours?" Nick asked. "That's after the murders started."

"Yeah," Hank agreed. "Our theory right now is that he might have helped with the initial ones."

"And he became a liability, so they killed him," Nick continued, understanding where Hank was going.

Hank shook his head with frustration. "He was our only lead."

"What about the van?" Nick asked.

"Not here," Wu answered. "We're still looking for it."

Nick sighed with disappointment. "Let's see what Gerstein can tell us," he said, walking toward the house where Gerstein's body was found. The group ducked under crime scene tape that had just been put up and through a door that was left wide open. 

"So far, no signs of forced entry," Wu commented, pointing at the intact glass panels on the front door. The quickly entered the kitchen where Gerstein's body was sprawled out on the tile. The collar of his white, button-up shirt was spotted with small amounts of blood.

Nick examined the counter of the kitchen, covered in rotten meat and some wilted vegetables. Knives were laid out across the counter's surface, and it was apparent that Gerstein had been making dinner when he was murdered.

"A lot of tools here to kill someone with," Nick said, looking over the various knives.

"And none of them did him in," Hank commented. He used a balled-up, latex glove to move Gerstein's shirt collar, exposing the small puncture wound on his neck.

"A needle?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, like with Angel," Hank confirmed.

Nick examined the wound further and said, "Except Guerra's wound was bigger. This could be from a typical syringe."

"The real question is what was in that syringe," Hank commented.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say it wasn't insulin," Wu said snarkily.

"Hopefully Harper can get us some answers," Nick said.

*************

"This is it," Miles announced, pulling into a parking spot in front of a sign that said, "Reichardt Pharmaceuticals."

Trubel opened the glovebox of Miles's car and pulled out two badges. "Your Badge, Officer Leverett," she said playfully, handing it to him.

"Why, thank you, Officer Cole," he said happily.

Trubel smiled at him. "You don't look like a cop," she disapproved.

"And you do?" he asked her skeptically.

She laughed at him. "Pop the trunk," Trubel ordered him, and he listened.

The two Grimms climbed out of the car and walked to the back, taking off their abused, dirty jackets that they usually wore on assignments and replacing them with nicer ones they pulled from the supply room at the HW compound. 

"Let's roll," Miles said, throwing on a pair of sunglasses and shutting the trunk. He locked the car and, with Trubel alongside him, walked into the building where a receptionist stood behind a large counter. She smiled happily at them with her perfectly white teeth. She wasn't old, maybe 24 or 25, and her stylish clothes hinted at designer brands. Her sky-blue blouse matched the color of her cheerful eyes. She greeted the two "officers" as they walked into the building.

"Hello, I'm officer Lauren Cole, this is my partner Oliver Leverett. We're with the Portland PD." Trubel greeted, flashing her badge at the receptionist. "We need to speak with Joe Reichardt."

"May I ask what this is about?" the receptionist asked kindly but nervously.

"He's not in any trouble," Miles assured her. "We just need to ask him about one of his employees, Burton Gerstein."

"I'll call him," the woman offered, dialing his extension. "Sir, two police officers want to talk to you about Burt... No... Okay." She hung up the phone and said, "He can speak with you. He's in his office." The woman pointed to the elevator while adding, "Room 615."

"Thank you," Miles said with a smile. Trubel nodded at the woman and followed Miles to the elevator. They rode it up to the sixth floor and wandered the halls until they found the appropriate room number. A man, who they presumed was Joe, sat at a large, wooden desk, tapping a pen nervously on its surface. Miles walked up to the open door and knocked on the doorframe.

"Dr. Reichardt," Miles greeted. "We're here to talk to you about-"

"Burt. Yes, I know," Joe said kindly. "Please, have a seat," he said gesturing to two chairs that faced his desk. Miles and Trubel both entered the room and sat down at the chairs Joe had gestured toward.

"What did you want to know?" Joe asked.

"When was the last time you saw Mr. Gerstein?" Miles asked.

"Four days ago. He hasn't shown up for work for the past three..." Joe mused.

"Was this something he did often?" Trubel asked.

"Um..." Joe said, thinking about the answer. He looked nervously at Miles before turning his gaze to Trubel. "No, but he seemed a little stressed. I thought he might just need some time off."

"But he didn't tell you he wasn't coming in?" Miles asked.

Joe shook his head. "No."

"Did you try to contact him?" Trubel asked.

Once again, Joe paused, thinking about the answer. "I tried to call him a few times," he admitted.

"And what happened with that?" Trubel asked him.

Joe shrugged. "He didn't answer. Which was a little unusual, but like I said, I thought he just needed some time off."

Trubel's phone vibrated. She exchanged a look with Miles who started asking Joe more questions while Trubel checked her phone. It was a text message from Nick.

Gerstein is dead. There's a puncture wound on his neck. We think he was drugged.

"You said that Gerstein looked stressed," Miles began. "How so?"

"He was just really adamant about getting out of work on time that night. He was the kind of guy that would stay later than everyone else to get the job done right. He was a good guy... which, you know, is one of the reasons I let him disappear on me."

"Did something happen that day, or did he say anything to you about why he was stressed?" Trubel asked.

"No. Like I said, he always went above and beyond, so I was fine with doing him a favor without question," Joe answered.

"What did he do for the company?" Miles asked.

"A little bit of everything," Joe explained. "He basically knows how to do my job and more. He's younger than me, so I always thought that I would hand the business down to him when I get too old for everything."

"Is there anyone who worked closely with him that might know a little bit more about what he was up to?" Miles asked.

Joe shook his head. "Nope. I was about the closest he got to anyone here, and he didn't tell me much. He was sort of a private person that way."

"Did he have any enemies?" Trubel asked.

"Enemies?" Joe asked. "I don't know how anyone could be enemies with Burt. He was an all-around good guy."

"Did you know he's missing?" Miles asked.

"Missing?" Joe asked in disbelief. "No, he can't be-"

"Did you know?" Trubel repeated aggressively.

Joe looked up at her with a sad and confused expression. "No, no..." he said despondently. "I can't believe..."

"Why didn't you file a missing persons report when you couldn't get a hold of him?" Miles asked.

"Am I a suspect?" Joe asked with horror.

"We just want to find Gerstein," Miles asked. "And it would help if you could answer our questions."

"Okay," Joe said, nodding in compliance. "I didn't file a report because, as I told both of you, I thought he just needed time off. I didn't know he was in trouble, and I didn't think anyone could hate the man, anyway. I swear!"

"His van is also missing," Miles said. "Do you know where we could find it?"

"It would be with him. He didn't let anyone else drive the thing, not that it was fancy or anything. He just, he bought it a few years back with his own money. Used it to move into the house he lives in now. He was proud of it."

Trubel nodded and stood up. Miles also stood.

"I guess those are all of the questions we have for you at this time," Trubel said. "If you think of anything else, call this number." She handed Joe one of Nick's business cards. "It's the number of the lead detective working on the case."

"I will," Joe promised.

Trubel nodded. "Do us a favor, and stay in town."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Trubel started leaving the room and Miles went with her. They made their way back down to the lobby, said goodbye to the receptionist, and climbed back into their seats in Miles's car.

"We have a problem," Trubel told him.

Miles had been backing out of the parking space but stepped on the brakes when Trubel spoke.

"What? What is it?" he asked nervously.

"Gerstein was found dead in his house. It looks like someone drugged him," Trubel said.

"What?!" Miles asked. "Should we go back and talk to Reichardt?"

Trubel shook her head and pulled a tracking device out of Miles's glovebox. "I think we should put one of these on his car and see where he goes. If he's involved, he could lead us to the people we really need to talk to."

"Good idea," Miles approved, pulling the car out of the parking spot. "What are we looking for?"

"A red Dodge Challenger," Trubel said.

*************

Nick, Hank, and Wu were all back at the precinct combing through evidence and photos taken from the scene of Gerstein's murder.

"Maybe it wasn't because he was a liability," Hank mused. "Maybe they needed him for something and when they were done, they killed him."

"Maybe," Nick said. He stopped examining photos from the scene in order to take a sip from his second cup of coffee. "But what could they need him, specifically, for?"

"We know he was a higher up at the pharmaceutical company. Maybe he stole money or medications to give them to his 'business partners,'" Wu suggested.

"Except none of the victims were killed using drugs made by the company," Nick said.

"Until now," Hank said, looking at his computer screen. "Take a look at this. Harper just sent it over."

It was a toxicology report done on Gerstein. He had died from respiratory failure due to an overdose of propofol, an anesthetic manufactured by Reichardt Pharmaceuticals.

*************

Trubel climbed out from underneath Joe Reichardt's car and jumped into the passenger's seat.

"The tracker's on?" Miles asked.

"Yep," Trubel said. "Let's head back to the compound."

As Miles drove back to the compound, he asked, "You want to get fast food or something? I'm kind of hungry."

"I thought you'd never ask," Trubel said jokingly. The food they served at HW was hardly edible which neither one of them was looking forward to eating.

They began heading in the direction of the closest fast food join and talked about their interrogation of Joe on the way. 

"Did you get a weird vibe from him?" Trubel asked.

"Honestly, not really," Miles said, shrugging. "Did you?"

Trubel nodded. "Yeah," she said. "He didn't even ask once why we were curious about Gerstein. You'd think he'd be a little more concerned, you know? But he didn't ask if Gerstein was in trouble or if he was okay..."

"I guess that is weird..." Miles agreed.

"And another thing," Trubel continued. "He kept saying 'was.' Like Gerstein 'was a good guy' like he already knew he was dead. But according to him, he didn't even know Gerstein was missing."

"I didn't catch that," Miles admitted, looking embarrassed.

"I'm just saying, something is off about him," Trubel said. Just then, her phone started ringing. "It's Nick," she announced as she answered it and put it on speaker.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I'm at the precinct with Hank and Wu. Did you pick up anything when you talked to Reichardt?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, he's hiding something. Not sure what," Trubel told him.

"Well, tox results came back on Gerstein. Turns out he was dosed with propofol, a drug that Reichardt's company manufactures," Nick informed her.

"Maybe that's what he's hiding," Miles suggested.

"Maybe," Nick admitted. There was a pause before he asked, "Are you guys on your way back?"

"Yep, we're going to grab something to eat first. You want anything?" Trubel asked.

"No, I'm good," Nick told her. "I'll meet you at the compound."

"Got it," Trubel said and hung up. She sighed. "Even with the information we have, we're not anywhere near finding out who's killing Grimms. At best, we know who killed Gerstein, but what does that really tell us anyway?" Trubel asked with frustration.

"I don't know," Miles said calmly.

"Man, this whole thing just... It makes me nervous," Trubel admitted.

Miles nodded. "I can see why," he said, seeming unnerved.

"What about you?" Trubel asked him. "How do you feel about everything?"

Miles laughed. "Wow, Trubel, you are about the last person I would expect to talk to me about feelings," he joked with a smile on his face.

"I'm serious," Trubel said sternly. "You haven't been out in the field as long as me. I want to know how you're doing. I mean, Grimm killers, that's got to freak you out a little, right?"

Miles shrugged. "Whatever happens, happens," he said casually.

Trubel looked at him suspiciously, but he didn't notice. He was too busy navigating the drive-thru. "What do you want?" he asked her.

"Just a burger and a chocolate milkshake," she said.

"You got it," Miles said. A woman's voice spoke at the ordering station. Miles told her what he wanted and then told her Trubel's order before pulling forward.

"You aren't worried at all?" Trubel asked again.

"Um..." Miles said, thinking about how to answer. "I think whatever is going on... I think I can handle it."

"It's dangerous to be so cocky," Trubel warned him unhappily.

Miles laughed. "I guess you're right." He paid the lady at the window and pulled the car forward to get his and Trubel's meals. He gave Trubel hers and started eating the burger he had gotten for himself while he drove with one hand. It was silent in the car for a few minutes before Miles blurted out, "Shoot! I forgot I have to get gas!" He turned to Trubel. "You don't mind do you?"

Trubel had been lost in thought, thinking about the case as she stared out the passenger's side window.

"What?" she asked. Her brain finally processed what Miles had asked. "No, go ahead," she told him.

Miles took another bite of his burger. As he chewed, Trubel said, "I've been thinking about earlier in HW's research room..."

"Mm-hm," Miles said with a mouthful of food. 

"How many matches were there for the name Burt Gerstein?" she asked.

"Mm," Miles said, trying to remember. "Like three or four. You think we have the wrong guy?" he asked.

"No," Trubel said. "I was just wondering. How many matches were there for Charles Stott?"

Miles had already taken another bite of his burger, so he answered with his mouth full of food. "Geez, like 50 just in the U.S."

Trubel nodded.

"Why?" Miles asked, sounding uncomfortable.

"No reason," Trubel lied.

Miles raised an eyebrow and stared at her, hoping she would provide some sort of explanation.

"I'm just wondering, if there were so many matches, how did you know which one was the right Charles Stott?" she asked.

Miles laughed tensely. "The one I picked was the only Charles Stott in Canada that wasn't Wesen," he explained.

Trubel nodded mostly to herself. "Right," she said.

"Is everything okay?" Miles asked her nervously.

Trubel looked uncomfortable but told him that everything was fine.

By that point, he had already made it to the gas station. Miles was parked next to a gas pump and handed Trubel a few bills.

"Okay, then can you go in and pay for the gas?" he asked her.

"Sure," she said. She unbuckled her seatbelt and walked into the store, muttering to herself, "No one told you that Charles was Canadian."

Something was wrong.

Trubel handed the money to the clerk behind the desk and pulled out her phone. She was going to call Nick. She looked up and saw Miles staring at her from outside. She needed to get somewhere where he couldn't see her. She pretended to look at some of the snacks hanging from the shelves and made her way to the back of the store. Trubel was going to call Nick from the bathroom, but someone was using it, so she walked out the back door that led to the employee's parking lot.

Trubel began dialing Nick's number prepared to tell him about her suspicions. She was three digits away when the phone was ripped from her hand, someone held a hand over her mouth, and a few others held her arms. She was kicking and trying to pull her arms away from her attackers, but she was unsuccessful. There were too many of them, and they were strong.

While Trubel was being restrained, one of the people who had grabbed her held a cloth to her face. They could see her consciousness slipping away, and her fighting grew weaker. Just before she shut her eyes, one of the men smiled in her face and said, "Goodnight, sleeping beauty." When it was clear she was asleep, one of the people holding her arms let go and walked around to grab her legs. Together, the team of four men threw the Grimm into the trunk of an SUV that had been parked next to the curb, climbed inside, and drove away.