A/N: Mabel Aquila^^^ So I'm debating on a new blurb and changing the title from "chase" to "game". I feel as if it has more appeal. Anyways, vote & comment & enjoy.
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POV HAL:

Boy, when we found Samuel Pilocke, I was shocked the guy hasn't passed out after seeing him down that last bottle of beer in a second. I knew my usual charm wouldn't be able to persuade a man who hates us- but maybe him being drunk is a good thing? I glance over to Riley to see if he had any ideas but already, like usual, he gets to the point.

"Do you have any relation to Ethan Jackson?" asks Riley, taking the seat in front of him. I just follow his lead and take the seat next to him.

I wonder how he came to that conclusion. I understand Nathan Jackson had the same arrest dates as Samuel but that could have been a coincidence. Alright- my former boss would have clocked be over the head saying, "There's no such thing as coincidence, Berghim. Only patterns on a puzzle piece to fit the whole puzzle." Still. One can doubt right? But I'll give Riley his shot at using his gut. This guy is either our Hangman or a potential victim. I'm picking the latter for reasons I haven't explained to my partner...

"Now, why... are you asking about Ethan?" asks Samuel, his head rests on a propped arm; for a man who's drunk, he's able to not slur his words, huh. His movement knocks down one of his standing empty bottles. I catch the glass before it rolls off the table. Samuel hand rubs over the side of his face, not caring about his careless actions. Riley stares him down, "We believe you two are in danger." I can tell he's holding back the other part- a good thing but I would not recommend heading straight into, "You're gonna die."

Leaning back, Samuel laughs out loud. His hand slaps his muscled thigh then returns to his last bottle. He lifts it to his mouth, forgetting that he already finished it moments ago. I scrunch up my face in pity and disgust when I spot his tongue lap up the left over liquid around the rim. He's younger than us; what the hell is putting him in the dumps?

I glance at Riley who's still has an unfazed gaze on the drunk. His eyes were unfocused though and seems to look past the pitiful scene; ignoring or lost in thought, I wonder. Samuel grunts disappointedly before saying, "Let the devil take me... but Ethan... I can't let Ethan get hurt." This should lead into some story- though there's this thing with drunks. With enough liquor, they'll spill the beans but sometimes a few of those are magic beans- meaning bullshit.

"You were arrested for a couple of minor crimes when you were younger, yes?"

"...Yah.. We were just a couple of rich kids fooling around," frowns Samuel. "It was always the same scene. We get caught doing something. The cop gives us a warning or takes us to the station. One of our parents show up and pay the fees." He mutters, "Same. Damn. Thing."

"When you say 'we,' who are you referring to?" asks Riley as he pulls out his pocket notebook and pen. I wish I could give a hand but I only got one to spare, heh.

"Nathan and me. Ethan always gets dragged into our stupid ideas. He's a damn Saint... " Samuel taps the side of the bottle with a soft expression; probably thinking about the good times. I can't blame him.

"What happened with your  last arrest in October?"

"......I don't.... want to talk about it," he frowns. Damnit, he's clamming up. We can't press him like this. I pat Riley with my good arm and he turns his attention to me. I say to Samuel, "It's fine. Tell us more about what you and the Jackson brothers did." The nostalgic expression returns to the drunk's face.

Samuel says, "They were my best friends... we were inseparable- the... the brothers were always together.... You never see one without the other, heh yah know?" His weary eyes glance at us two. He continues, "We lived close to each other... Our parents were friends... It get's boring though. Like, you... you have everything in your reach because we have the money... but we are restricted from things our other school friends had. Drugs and alcohol were two... Mrs. Jackson was religious and would scowl us if we ever mentioned it, saying taking it was some sin or some bullshit... We went loose whenever we were outside- Nathan and me. Ethan would run after us with the first aid kit, haha... We got our hands on whatever stuff was restricted to us..."

Okay- is he really drunk or just tipsy?! I have never seen anyone out-drink me without slurring their words or passing out! My doctor thinks I'm inhuman, look at this show!

"When was the last time you contacted, Ethan?" interrupts Riley. If the two were that close, he should know right?

"A week ago..."

"How?"

"Email." Riley and I sigh in union; so Samuel hasn't talked to Ethan face to face but- "When was the last time you spoke to him personal?" I ask. I just want to make sure a theory of mine is incorrect... those reasons I believe he isn't the Hangman.

".....Now that you mention it.... it-it was ten years ago. After the- But I thought... I thought Ethan left the city already after Nathan died. His parents sent him to some boot camp or something like that," this time Samuel lets out a long sigh.

"How did Nathan-" Placing my hand on his shoulder, again, I stop Riley before he asks the heavy question. He gives me a puzzled glance. "One moment," I tell Samuel before motioning Riley to follow me. We both get up and move a few feet away from the table. I can spy Mabel from afar staring at our direction.

"What?" whispers Riley as he puts his pen behind his ear.

"You can't press him like that. He'll clam up like Kevin Bacon."

"Baker," Riley corrects me. Bacon. Baker. Whatever. I wanted to joke about it but I felt the timing would be terrible. I wonder how the kid's doing though? It's been two weeks since I last saw him so he should be out of the hospital after I got myself in.

His arms cross with his notebook tucked under an armpit. He then asks, "What else can we do? Unnecessary information on his whole life story is not what I'm looking for." His chocolate eyes stare me down hard and I can't help think how his defensive look is cute.

I simply respond, "Bait him to reveal the incident. Like a game of poker, bluff that we have info already." Riley glances down, taking the idea into consideration.

"Alright. Let's do it," nods my partner. I grin victoriously, earning myself an eye roll. We return to our seats. Riley groans out loud causing me to look over at him then to Samuel who he's staring at.

The drunk fell asleep while we were taking. Suits our damn luck.

Riley shakes the knocked out guy who's whole body is over the table. His empty bottles are tucked underneath his upper form. The sight gives me second-hand embarrassment. "Samuel. Samuel. Wake up," frowns Riley, clearly not enjoying this.

Mabel approaches our table and begins to pull the empty bottles away from Samuel. She chuckles, "That's what you call 'Going Downtown' when a customer passes out drunk. Samuel, here, can hold his liquor pretty well. His only problem is the increasing tab on his bill for ending up sleeping here."

I speak up, "I never asked this but your bar isn't only a bar?"

She smiles,"'Where the lively drop by and weary stay the night,' is somewhat of a slogan of mine. The rooms, you guy searched two weeks ago, can be rented by customers her- by the way Riley you owe me payment on the broken locks."

Riley gets up quickly, "Well it's getting late and I think we should go, right Hal?" I hold back my laughter by biting my lips as I join him. He's already walking towards the exit.

"Mabel, tell Samuel to call us when he's awake and sober," I grin. She nods and waves me off as I hustle out the door. Surprisingly, my angel waited for me outside. Our shadows stretch on the sidewalk while we head to his car. The silence ends when we enter and Riley starts it.

"Thoughts?" I ask.

Riley sighs, "I want to find out what happened during that October."

"But we can rule him out, right?"

Riley frowns, "Hal, we can't just rule him out. Being a drunk sorry-case doesn't excuse people from being a suspect." The street lights illuminate the inside of the car every other second. A few seconds pass before I respond. I turn my attention to Riley and ask, "I'm not saying we rule him out but isn't he less likely to be the Hangman?"

"He's just as much as a suspect as Ethan is."

"But he-"

"Hal... Ethan doesn't show his face while he still lives in this city. Samuel is holding back information that could be the key to this case. For all I know, the drunk is protecting our killer or the two are conspiring together!" My mouth forms a thin line. He's overthinking this; if it were like that, this whole case can be speculated into multitudes of Hollywood-themed theories.

The rest of the ride is silent and the trip back to my place. Riley throws off his coat, having it draped over the couch. He plops onto the soft cushion and leans back. I can understand the exhaustion; staring at profiles and dealing with Samuel must have taken a toll on him.

"You okay? Want me to get you some coffee or tea with my one hand abilities?" I ask, trying to ease the tension of uncertainty. I see his form relax into the couch. A light laugh emits from him, bringing a small smile to my face.

My angel then turns around, letting his hands hold onto the back end of the couch. Riley bites the end of his lip, his eyes downcast before locking onto mine. "Why... why do you seem to know how to cheer me up?"

I smirk, "Because you like me." I knew a change of topic should take his mind off work. I boil water to make tea for myself. Riley mocks my statement, "You're incorrigible. Have you ever thought that ego of yours is blinding you?"

"Have you ever thought you also have an large stubborn ego?" That I really think is cute- is what I wanted to fully say. His stubborn attitude gives me the desire to tease him whenever I get the chance. Riley gives me the evil eye before sitting correctly on the couch. After pouring water, I dip the tea bag in the mug and sweeten it. I make my way to sit right next to him.

"I'm ashamed of myself. I get easily swayed by your pace," frowns Riley. I'm happy with that announcement; I always believed that work and personal life should not effect each other. I don't want to feel irritated for the rest of the day because of the case I'm working on.

"Again... you like me," I push. We both turn our gazes onto each other. Riley's flicks away for a couple of times. His lips are licked, reminding me how they felt when I first kissed him. It's been more than a few seconds and my heart races when he doesn't deny anything. I let this moment be a silent confession from him- something to keep my hopes up while he's still "thinking about our relationship."

Riley clears his throat and focuses on my mug. "Doesn't smell like coffee. I'm not drinking it," he says suddenly.

I smugly retort,"That's were you are wrong, my angel. The tea is for me." I take a sip of the hot liquid as a way to show him. My partner's face lights up that it's noticeable in the dimly lit living room. Uh oh- I let the nickname slip. I can feel my own face heat up from embarrassment.

"I-I'm going to s-sleep early..." stutters Riley as he retreats into the bedroom. I watch in amusement, relieved to find he's not uncomfortable enough to begin sleeping on the couch.

After a few minutes of sitting alone in the living room, I somehow finish the tea I had; in the process, I burned my tongue. I'm contemplating if I should tell the extra information I've been holding back from Riley. He wants hard evidence. This isn't hard evidence.

While I was looking through Ethan and Nathan Jackson's files back at the office, I noticed something interesting. One, Ethan didn't have a mug shot picture even though his arrest has been recorded. Second, their last arrest was documented very vague, which I find strange for an officer to write a report like that. Thirdly, the photo of young Nathan Jackson looked oddly familiar to a certain rookie detective but it doesn't make sense in a logical sense.

With all of that and the man I witnessed today, my gut tells me the drunk's no killer.

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A/N: Fairly obvious now right? Well the case is close to its end. All there is mostly catching him with better evidence or red handed and uncovering the motive.
Happy Mother's Day. Sorry for my delayed chapter. I have a list of excuses but I'm sure to get this rolling.