Detective Elliott barely slept that weekend. When she did, it was in her office. Her wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her jacket had been discarded many hours ago. The chief had been in to visit her the previous morning, but he promised to give her room to work. Marsha Benton's mother had flown in the night before with the Johnstown police picking her up from Lambert Airport. She had been in hysterics upon arriving at the police department, so Elliott had sent her to the Drury Inn a few miles away to get some rest. That had helped a little, but she was still extremely shaken up when they picked her up the next morning.

"How did you sleep?" Elliott asked as she placed a cup of black coffee on the table in front of Shelby Benton.

"Okay, I guess, considering my daughter was murdered and you have no leads on who did it," Shelby replied and took the cup of coffee.

"We are working on it, I promise. We have brought the three friends who found her back in. We are hoping that they will think of a name or anything that could give us some direction."

"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to think or do. I told her to come spend some time with me in California after her last breakup, but she refused. She decided to bury herself in work instead."

"I am truly sorry that this is the reason you had to come to Johnstown, but I promise we will find out what happened," Elliott said. "Now, can you tell me about this failed relationship? I need to know about anyone who might have a motive in this case."

"Her last boyfriend? His name is Elbert Gunderson," Shelby said. "I can't imagine that he would have done this. The breakup was his decision, I think, and I'm not sure he could have done it if he wanted to."

"He couldn't have done it? Why do you say that?"

"Well, he was about two inches shorter than Marsha and not exactly a strong guy. I was told that the murderer choked my baby to death. He wouldn't have been strong enough."

"I think we'll have a chat with him anyway, but it does sound like he is not a likely suspect. Anyone else?"

"Not really. She didn't keep me informed on her personal life, other than who she was dating. I don't think she was seeing anyone as of the last time we talked."

"When was that?"

"Last Wednesday evening. She told me about a get together with some friends on Friday..."

"We don't have to talk about that."

"Okay," Shelby said, grabbing a napkin to dab at her eyes.

"Did she have any medical issues or medication that you know of?"

"I thought she was choked to death."

"She was, but I would like to know anything I can."

"Okay. As far as I know, she was still taking her regular medicine for asthma. Other than that, I don't know of anything. I wish I had more to offer."

"I tell you what, I'll have an officer take you to her house. I know you have plenty to take care of and maybe something will come to mind. I'm going to talk to her friends again and see if they have thought of anything new."

"Thank you," Shelby said, getting to her feet. "It might be nothing, but it has been bothering me since I found out how she died."

"What's that?" Elliott asked.

"Her biggest fear was not being able to breathe. It came from her asthma or at least that would be my guess."

"I'm glad you told me that because it is definitely something for us to consider when we are asking questions. If someone knew that, well, that would be malicious to say the least."

Detective Elliott walked Shelby out to the front of the police station and arranged for an officer to get her over to Marsha's house. She was frustrated at the lack of leads, but knew the chief would be back for an update sometime before lunch. Another cup of coffee and a glazed donut seemed like a good choice as she went back to her office to think. The information was thin and she hoped something would come to her before the chief arrived.

Thirteen minutes after eleven is when Chief Hawkens appeared in her doorway. He looked tired, but still wore a smile.

"How are you doing, Elliott?"

"I'm putting in everything I've got, Chief," she said, turning to look at him.

"I'm sure you are," he said. "What I wanted to know is how are you holding up? This is a big case and you are doing most of it by yourself. Is Jones helping you?"

"Sure, Jones has done everything I ask of him. I'm just not very good at delegating. And I guess I'm doing okay, but coffee is definitely not going to hold up for much longer. Sorry."

"What do we have so far?"

"Not much considering how much work has gone into the case. We found no fingerprints, no forced entry, and only a few green threads under the victim's fingernails. The friends had no idea who could have wanted her dead or who would have done it. One friend, Patty, said that Ms. Benton had told her that she had a bad day."

"I'd say that is an understatement."

"Yes, sir," Elliott answered.

"And you have now talked to Ms. Benton's mother?"

"Yes, but she offered only one piece of information. She told me that her daughter was afraid of not being able to breathe. While that is a terrible coincidence, it is still a coincidence."

"I suppose so," Chief Hawkens said. "I want you to go back and get some rest in the old barracks."

"I'm fine."

"It was an order, Detective Elliott. Get a few hours of rest and then talk to Thomas. He's working on that fire at the Quarter Bar. I think he said there was a coincidence there, too."

"Okay," she replied hesitantly. "I think I'll go home for a bit instead of the barracks, though."

"Fine. Get some rest. I'll see you this afternoon," Hawkens said before turning to walk back along the hallway.

Elliott was not sure what to feel. Part of her craved some rest, but another part made her sure that she would not be able to sleep. At the very least, she needed to get out of the building for a while. That is what the chief was expecting at the moment. She wasn't sure what to expect from Thomas when she got back, but she hoped he wasn't going to be upset that he didn't get the Benton case.

She decided to go home and sit on the couch. She thought the comfort of home might be enough to take the edge off and maybe clear her mind enough to be able to think. After queueing up one of her favorite playlists, she flopped on the couch. Her brain was racing, but started to slow as the familiar sound of Lisa Loeb's voice filled the room. Elliott began to focus on the lyrics and felt relaxed.

"You say

I only hear what I want to

And you say

I talk so all the time, so..."

Before the song was over, she fell asleep. The dark room and comfortable couch, mixed with extreme fatigue, was exactly what she needed. Luckily, she had set an alarm and woke with a start at 3:30.

"Wow, I gotta get back," she said, jumping up from the couch. She splashed some water on her face and put on a clean shirt. Her hair was still pulled back, but she took a moment to tuck away some strays. "Thomas is going to be waiting. Oh well."

A couple hours of sleep made her feel a hundred times better and she was ready to jump back into this case. Thomas was at his desk when she walked by, so she stopped in his doorway.

"Hey, Thomas," she said.

"Well, now," Thomas said, turning his desk chair to look at her. His temples were graying, but his mocha colored skin was unblemished. "If it isn't the woman of the hour."

"Look," she said defensively, "I wasn't trying to start anything with you when I took the case."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, a smile forming on his face that revealed his pearly white teeth. "What gave you the idea that I wanted the Benton case?"

"Didn't you?"

"No way," he answered. "The first murder in a long time, not much to go on, and the mayor is going to be breathing down Hawkens' neck for a solution. That sounds horrible. It's all yours."

"Thanks for painting such a grim picture," Elliott said, smiling a little.

"Hey, I'd say it was an accurate picture, although I will agree it is grim. Anytime the politicians get involved, I am happy to check out."

"Maybe someday I'll have the option to be more selective."

"Let's hope it is a long time before there is another murder case to worry about. Anyway, what brings you to my humble office."

"I didn't think we'd both fit in my humble office," she said with a laugh. "Hawkens told me I should stop by. Something about a coincidence with my case and your car fire."

"Right," he said, looking serious, "the fire seems like an open and shut deal on the surface. The old guy got drunk, started showing off in his fancy car, and something went wrong. The engine caught on fire, probably when he was revving it up."

"So, what's the connection that Hawkens was talking about?"

"When I was interviewing people that had been at the scene, I talked to a Max Lawrence. He was pretty shook up and it didn't make much sense to me. He was inside when the fire happened and was not even one of the people who made it outside in the first few minutes."

"And?"

"Patience, my young padawan. Both Max and Jessica, the bartender on duty, said the victim had left the bar only a few minutes earlier. He had apparently freaked out over a lighter, almost tripping over himself on his way out the door. Jessica said she had never seen anyone that afraid of a little flame and then for him to die like that was a horrible coincidence."

"That is certainly disturbing," Elliott said, thinking about her conversation with Shelby Benton. "If he really was afraid of fire, then that would be the connection Hawkens was talking about. My victim's mother said that her daughter was deathly afraid of not being able to breathe."

"But, mine is an accident and yours is a murder."

"Maybe?" Elliott said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I mean, it is a strange coincidence."

"Sure, but both deaths happened within a few hours of each other. We have nothing else connecting those two people and who would have known the greatest fears of both of them?"

"I've got nothing," Elliott said, slumping against the doorframe. "It almost sounds like there is more to this story, but what?"

"I tell you what," Thomas said. "Let's both take a bit and look through each other's notes. Look for anything and I mean anything at all that sounds like a connection."

"That works for me. We can team up on this."

"Oh no you don't," he said, grinning. "This is just an idea. You are still the lead on the Benton case and I'll keep to my lowly car fire."

"Gee, thanks."

"Here are my notes," he said, taking a folder from his desk. "I'll walk down to your office and get your notes. You can give me a call when you are done."

Elliott agreed and they went to retrieve the Benton notes. The next hour went by quickly as she studied the statements given by the dozen or so people that had stuck around to talk to the detective on the night of the fire.

Reading the statements of buzzed or drunk people was painful, although she was glad that she hadn't been the one to talk to them. The general consensus was that the decedent was being a jerk of the highest order and trying to show off for a group of young women that had apparently turned away his advances. A few talked about hearing him crank up his stereo in the minutes before the fire and others talked about him revving the engine on his Corvette, which had drawn some attention for a few moments.

The statement given by Max Lawrence was certainly sobering and had obviously shaken him to the core. He had been one of the only two people who were completely clear on what had happened. He felt horrible about the lighter, but had only been playing around. He had told Thomas that he hoped they didn't think he started the fire. The bartender, Jessica, had a strange burn on her hand, which was interesting. However, there was no way she was in the car since the security footage showed her inside the bar the entire time. Elliott was deep in thought about the situation when her phone rang, causing her to jump.

"Hello," she said after grabbing the handset.

"Elliott," Hawkens said, "I want you in my office as soon as you can get here. We have another connection that is going to cause quite a stir. The mayor will be here in an hour. I want to stay out ahead of this thing."

"On my way," she said. The phone had barely landed in its cradle before she grabbed Thomas' file and trotted off toward the chief's office. She had a sickening feeling about what was about to happen.

Elliott paused when she entered the chief's office. Hawkens, Thomas, and another man she did not recognize were already there. She could tell that he was from the St Louis County Police Department, based on his uniform.

"Have a seat, Elliott," Hawkens said, gesturing toward the only the empty chair in front of his desk. "This is Detective Jason Nugent. He's with the County Police and, well, I think I'll let him share what he has."

"Thank you, Chief," Nugent said, turning to look at Thomas and Elliott. "This morning, we got a call from Southern National Bank. Apparently, their regional security system supervisor had their emergency call button set to ring through to us instead of your department. The man on the phone, a Paul Anthony, was beyond hysterical. We decided to respond instead of relaying the call. When our officer arrived, there were about a dozen people standing at the entrance to the bank, trying to figure out why they couldn't get in. The officer tapped on the door and got the attention of one of the employees, who promptly let him in, but locked the door behind them. The man who had made the call was pacing across the lobby, looking panicked. The woman who let him in was visibly shaking, but was able to talk to him. She said that when they arrived at the bank, they were surprised that their branch manager was not there and they were not able to reach her on the phone. They decided to go ahead and open the vault, so the bank could open on time. That's when they found the manager's body curled up in the fetal position at the center of the vault. Neither could guess how she got in there since the procedure required two people to lock up at the end of the day."

"So, she suffocated?" Thomas asked. "That's awful."

"That's what I thought at first," Nugent said. "Forensics came in and determined that she had no signs of suffocation. Instead, it looked to them like she went into shock. They took the body back to the lab to do an autopsy, but they didn't have anything further for me."

"Three deaths in Johnstown in a matter of days is going to draw attention that Mayor Westchester does not want," Hawkens said. "He will want answers and he will want them yesterday."

"We can't give him what we don't have," Thomas said.

"The thing is," Hawkens said, "when I was looking over the statements that Detective Nugent so graciously supplied, I saw that one of the tellers commented that the deceased had often refused to go in the vault because of her claustrophobia. Now, that might be a coincidence again, but I am beginning to doubt it. All three deaths were by a method that directly tied to their greatest fears."

"If that's the case, then we have some sort of serial killer on our hands," Nugent said with a frown.

"A very good one," Elliott said. "There have been no fingerprints, no trace evidence, and no video footage."

"Not even at the bank?" Thomas asked.

"If they had the perp on video, then they would be out looking for the them right now."

"Well done, Detective," Nugent said, giving the slightest of grins before frowning again.

"So, what do we do next?" Thomas asked. "There is obviously a connection here and if there is a serial killer, what is the common thread. We know the attacker is using their greatest fears, but that would definitely take a lot of planning and time. I would think they would have to know the person pretty well. Who knows all of these people?"

"We tell the mayor what we have and that it really needs to stay low key. The media is on it, but we need to keep people from freaking out," Elliott said.

"Detective Nugent," Hawkens said, "it looks like this is going to be a big case and has the potential to get much bigger. Would you be interested in joining forces to try to contain this?"

"I think that would be a good plan," Nugent said, placing three of his business cards on the desk. "Please let me know if you come up with anything and I'll update you as soon as the autopsy is complete. Now, I'm going to get back out there. I have a bad feeling that this isn't over."

"Thank you and we will be talking to you soon," Hawkens said as he stood to walk Nugent to the door. They went out into the hallway, leaving Elliott and Thomas alone.

"This is way more than I thought it would be," Elliott said.

"Look, we are in this together," Thomas said. "You are still on lead and need to make it known that you are in control. Jones will make sure the officers follow your lead and I'll keep the other detectives busy. Where are you going to start?"

"I guess I'll starting looking for something or someone that each of the victims had in common. Their method of death isn't enough. I think there has to be something else."

"I agree," Thomas said. "It is almost like the murderer is punishing them using their fears."

"Complex is the best word I can think of," Elliott said. "I'm guessing we don't have much time until we have another victim, so let's get to it."