Written in 61 minutes.

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PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“We’re still waiting on full toxicology reports,” Robert began, handing a copy to Mac, then to Lucky, “but we have the full autopsy now for both.” He sat across from his brother, slid on his reading glasses. “I wanted to talk about the ways in which the crimes were similar and how they were different to see if we can add anything to the profile we’re developing.”

Lucky skimmed the report. “I’m not seeing anything new. Is there something I’m missing?”

“Only if you compare it to our first case.” Robert cleared his throat. “We have Georgie and Chelsea walking on the path. The cord is found around Chelsea’s neck, which indicated she was the second victim. Her alcohol levels were much higher than Georgie. Our killer attacked Georgie first — the more alert of the two. Chelsea likely wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until she was grabbed as well.” Robert flipped through the photographs in his folder. “Compare these defensive wounds.”

Mac braced himself, took a deep breath. “Okay. Chelsea didn’t fight as hard.”

“I’m sorry, Mac—”

“No. No, I can do this.” He scraped his hand down the side of his face. “That makes sense. The only way to attack a pair of women on your own is to incapacitate one of them.”

“He would have had to follow them,” Lucky said, and they both looked at him. “How else would he have known which girl to grab first? He wasn’t laying in wait for them at that location. He followed them there, and attacked as soon as he was outside of the camera angle. Which means he knows the cameras on campus.”

“Now, we come to the parking garage. He also knows those camera angles,” Robert continues. “Because his face is never seen. I don’t believe in blind luck twice over. He knew the shift changes. Our guy has access to both locations. Again, we knew this. But it’s the way he had access. Not just anyone is going to know about the security in each location.”

“That’s true,” Mac said. “What about the new case? We know he knocked both women out—”

“But not unconscious. That’s what we’ve learned from the full autopsy. Leyla Mir was knocked fully unconscious. The wound to Emily would have only dazed her, but it was enough to get her off her feet.” Robert set out the photographs of the hands. “Leyla has no defensive wounds. Emily’s are more consistent with Chelsea. There were skin cells, but not in the amount we found on our first two girls.”

“Why kill in pairs?” Mac murmured. “What’s the significance of that? And what’s their connection? Physically, yes, they’re all under the age of 30 with dark hair, but that doesn’t feel like enough.”

“I’d say it was the location,” Robert said, “but it wouldn’t explain why it’s two. It would be far simpler to go after just one. In order to get pairs, he has to either target specific women or lay in wait for the right women. And we know he stalked Georgie and Chelsea leading up to the murder.”

“The campus is big,” Lucky said, and they looked at him again. “Spread out. Georgie and Chelsea had classes in different buildings. The only time he’d be able to find them together at night would be going into the dorm or coming from a party. He sent flowers to the dorm room to test security. He probably thought it would be funny to send fresh, then dead ones. But I think it was the deliveries themselves that were important. Security’s not great, but it’s a well-lit entrance at night. He couldn’t have done anything to them there.”

Lucky paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “The cell phone calls. We thought maybe it was to lure Georgie from the party — but maybe it’s simpler than that.” He looked at Robert. “Couldn’t he have been tracking them? We have both their phones in evidence. Did we look for viruses or anything else?”

“I can make a call and get a more detailed report.” Mac snatched up the phone. “That last call from the party. If he was tracking them—”

“He’d know where they were to follow them. And Georgie and Chelsea always went to parties together. Anyone following them would know that.”

“He doesn’t need to use the same methods at the hospital,” Robert realized. “It’s one building. And keeping track of staff is easier. You can just ask at the lobby where a doctor works. And most of the time, they work in the same place. All you’d need is their schedule. If you already have access to the hospital security, getting that isn’t hard. Then it’s just a matter of picking your moment. So we’re not looking for stalker who escalates to murder.”

“It’s more random. He’s picking his victims,” Mac said, “because they fit something for him. But it’s not—it’s not about me. Robin and Georgie being related to me — it’s just incidental.”

“We’ll focus on the hospital and finding anyone who might have had access to the campus. It’ll be faster.” Robert got to his feet. “And I think maybe we need to talk about women not traveling alone or in pairs—”

“The mayor will never go for that,” Mac said with a quick shake of his head. “We need to narrow his profile — let’s start looking at our victims and seeing what links them.”

Quartermaine Estate: Pool House

Dillon sorted through the clothes in his suitcase, looking for a clean shirt. He considered actually unpacking since he’d decided to stay home through Christmas, but —

He turned at the knock at the door, and headed down the hallway to let in Lulu and Spinelli. “Hey. What are you guys doing here?”

“Bored.” Lulu flopped on his sofa. “Thought you’d entertain me.”

“The Jackal would like to inquire about Conflicted Film Major’s film collection.” Spinelli dug into his satchel, took out a thick book. “Specifically adaptations of this.”

“Moby Dick—” Dillon frowned. “I don’t know if I have anything—” He went over to the DVD cabinet, started to flick through it. “There’s the 1956 version. It’s not  that faithful, but you’re welcome to try it—”

“Why do you have that? Do you really have all the movies?” Lulu went to the cabinet. “What’s the most obscure movie you own?”

Dillon shrugged, handed the DVD to Spinelli. “I hope it helps.”

“Anything’s better than the book,” he muttered. “But Stone Cold insists that the Jackal obtain his degree, and not even the Fair Elizabeth will take up my case.”

“It’s kind of cute really,” Lulu said as she thumbed through the variety of DVDs and VHS tapes. “He’s like your dad. Like if Jason and Elizabeth had you as a teenagers or something. Or maybe it’s more like brothers. Yeah, like Jason’s your older brother who got stuck with raising you when your parents died—”

“When you’re done writing Spinelli’s life story, we can pick something to watch it.” Dillon offered. He looked at Spinelli. “It’s cool, though, that they care. Better than having no one at all.”

“This is true,” Spinelli acknowledged, even though he looked a bit wistful. Maybe he wished he really was Jason’s kid brother or something. “Thank you for the loan. The Jackal will take excellent care and return it in impeccable condition.”

Morgan Penthouse: Guest Room

Elizabeth made a face, then shook her head. “No, I think the glare of the computer screen will be too much if we put the desk there—”

Jason sighed, then let the corner of the desk drop to the carpeted floor. “Okay. So where do you want it?”

“Over by this wall—”

Right where she’d wanted it ten minutes ago, but Jason said nothing as he lifted it again. She pushed from her side, and they finally had the last piece of furniture set up. Elizabeth scrutinized the room, then went to straight out of the duvet cover on the new double bed. “You said your tech guy would be over to set up the workstation?”

“Yeah. He said it was top of the line—” Jason folded his arms. “Was there anything else you wanted to do?”

“No. I already put his clothes in the dresser and the closet. He can add on if he wants, but I think this is better.” Elizabeth scanned the room, then went to fuss with the gray curtains. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’ll miss complaining about the pink room.”

She smiled, then looked at him over her shoulder. “Why’d you put him in that room anyway?”

“Because it’s where I put people who annoy me,” Jason muttered, then winced. “Not you.”

“I should hope not.” Elizabeth fussed with the curtains again. “It was the only other bed in the penthouse then, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He came up behind her, drew her back against him, sliding his arms around her waist. “And it was closer than my bedroom that night, so—” He kissed her neck and she shivered.

“Don’t start that,” Elizabeth said, sliding away from him. “You have that guy coming over for the computer, and then we have to pick up the boys from Monica before Spinelli gets home.”

Jason made a face, but followed her out of the room, closing the door firmly in case Spinelli came home early. It had been Elizabeth’s idea to redesign the last guest room for the kid, but he was oddly looking forward to the reveal. Spinelli had been an annoying thorn in his side since the beginning, but at some point, he’d started to enjoy the hacker’s presence. And it went without saying that he’d been invaluable over the last two weeks, spending extra time with the boys.

No, a room that was just Spinelli’s was the least he deserved.

General Hospital: Staff Room

“What do you mean, no?”

Robin made a face, and closed her locker to reveal Patrick’s bewildered face. “You know that word. You’ve heard it before—”

“Don’t get smart with me,” he muttered. “Why won’t you move in? Did I do something wrong? I said something wrong.” Patrick went to his locker, pulled out a book with a pregnant woman on the cover. “The book said that I had to be careful—”

She scowled. “How many of those do you have?” She snatched it away from him.

“As many as I could find in the bookstore,” Patrick said, tugging it back. “And it says that mood swings and irritability are common. Plus, you’re more sensitive, so I have to be careful what I say—which I think I’m going to mess up—” He skimmed the page again, looking so frazzled that some of her frustration eased.

Some, not all.

“Patrick, we weren’t living together before I got pregnant. Why do you think we’d start now?”

“Because—” He frowned, looked back up. “Because. You’re going to need me. There’s cravings in the middle of the night. And cramps. And you’ll want a back massage—”

“Okay. I’m two months pregnant, not eight.” She took the book again, closed it, set it on the bench behind her. “I appreciate that you’re going all in. I really do. But Patrick—” She paused. “That doesn’t mean we’re…back together.”

“It—” He closed his mouth. “But we broke up because you wanted to have kids. Now we’re having a kid. Why—”

“We broke up because we wanted a different future. Yes, now I’m pregnant. Yes, now we’re having a child. But you didn’t ask for this—”

“But—”

“And you’re trying really hard and I appreciate that. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to—” Robin bit her lip. “You might not want to be a full-time father, you know? You said you didn’t want kids, and right now, you’re trying. But if you change your mind, where does that leave me, you know?”

Patrick swallowed hard. “But—”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Robin said gently. “I’m not. It’s just—it’s been a lot these last few months. We broke up, and then Georgie and Emily and Leyla, and now this—when and if I move in Patrick, it’s not because I’m pregnant. Okay? It’ll will us planning a future together.”

“But I want that now—”

“And I’m not sure I trust it.” She folded her arms, looked away. “You said it before, but it turned out our ideas of futures were different. What if I want more kids? You didn’t even want one—”

“But it’s different now—”

“Because it’s new. Because of that night, and that I could have been with Emily—” She shook her head. “I just—I don’t see the harm in letting things settle, okay? And you don’t have to worry. I live with an OB. Kelly will take care of anything I need.” She checked her watch. “I have rounds. I’ll come up later. We have that meeting with David Hawthorne later to talk about his treatment.”

“Yeah, okay.” He exhaled slowly. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” He put the book back in his locker, closed it, and left.

Robin bit her lip, unsure if she’d handled that well, but then followed him. Nothing she could do about it now.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Spinelli was reading the back of the DVD when he came home that night — and didn’t realize that the living room was full until he heard Cameron squeal his name. His head popped up and he blinked at seeing Jason and Elizabeth and both of the boys by the sofa, like they’d been—

Well, like they’d been waiting for him.

“Uh, hello. The Jackal is happy to see all the Stone Colds in one spot.” He put the DVD in his bag. “Did I miss a party or something?”

“We gots to show you something, Snelli. Mommy said I could.” Cameron bounced up and down. “Can we show you?”

“Show—” Spinelli furrowed his brow. “Okay, Little Dude.” He held out his hand, expecting to be dragged over to the toy bin, but instead Cameron raced towards the steps and Spinelli had to jog to keep up.

They head to the second floor, Spinelli aware of Jason and Elizabeth following behind. Instead of stopping at the first bedroom — Spinelli’s room — Cameron kept going until they reached the last empty room in the penthouse.

“Here.” Cameron released his hand, grinned broadly. “I showed you.”

“Little Dude has shown me a most bodacious door,” Spinelli said, frowning. He looked at Jason. “Stone Cold?”

“You might want to open it.” Jason adjusted Jake in his arms, shifting him to the other side.

“All right—” Spinelli pushed it open, then just stared. The room had a thick cream-colored carpet, that wasn’t new. But the double bed with red and gray blankets and pillows, the dresser—and a huge L-shaped desk with—

Spinelli walked towards the computer, his eyes wide. Then he looked around again, taking in the smaller details. There was a cluster of photographs he’d had hidden in a shoebox in his room. He and his grandmother. A trio shot of him, Chelsea, and Georgie, and an empty frame— He frowned, went to pick it up.

“We were hoping you might want to put this one in there—” He turned, and Elizabeth held out a photo.

It had been taken on Halloween, the last photo of the night. Spinelli on the sofa with the boys, holding Jake in his lap. Jason sitting on his other side, an arm slung casually over the back of the sofa. Spinelli’s eyes burned, and he looked at Jason. “You made me a room.”

“Well, you’ve been here almost a year,” Jason said, a bit uncomfortably. “Elizabeth thought—and so did I—that you should have a room that’s yours.”

“You made such a great room for the boys.” Elizabeth took his arm, kissed his cheek. “And you’ve made them feel at home. Me, too. You can change anything you want. I wasn’t sure of your favorite colors, but Lu thought maybe this would be okay.”

“The Blonde One?” Spinelli frowned. “Is that why she invited the Jackal to leave today?”

“She was a big help. Do you like it?”

“Yes.” Spinelli took a deep breath and put the new photo in the final empty frame, setting it by the others. “The Jackal is overwhelmed.” It was like having a real home again. And maybe really was home now. He looked at Jason. “The generosity of the Stone Colds has rendered the Jackal speechless.”

“Wasn’t sure that possible,” Jason said, but his eyes were smiling. Spinelli knew how to look for that. “We’ll leave you to look around. Pizza’s coming.”

“And orange soda,” Cameron said, tugging Spinelli’s arm. “And we gots the corn chips you like.”

“Thank you.” Spinelli ruffled Cameron’s curls and was rewarded with a beaming smile. “The Jackal is very grateful.”

They cleared the room and Spinelli just looked around, ran his hands over the high-end computer work station — oh the magic, he’d be able to do. Then looked at the photos again, at Georgie and Chelsea. He picked up the frame, smiling sadly, but then looked at the new photo. At his family.

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