After Pete put the kids and his ex-wife literally in witness protection, he went back to the house to see if he could get any sleep. It was late, and he was pretty sure if something happened, Agent Avery would let him know about it. He also wanted to check on his own home and make sure it was still standing. He wasn't going to find anyone or do anything competently if he didn't get any shuteye and a shower first thing in the morning. While he was eating something recently warmed up in the microwave, Pete kept thinking about the leads they had and what could possibly come from them. He really liked the one Grozza and Brown were looking into with the SEC and hoped that was the right path. Greed was a much better motive than civil unrest, and he could see right through the Prophet's bullshit. If this man was shorting companies and cashing in, then he was no better than the greedy pieces of trash he was trying to take out. It made things much easier for everyone and if he was trying to work the system, they should be able to follow the money right back to him. It was only a matter of time now before Geronimo was behind bars where he belonged, hopefully with an impending date with a needle. Pete wasn't one to support capital punishment, but in the Prophet's case, he was willing to make an exception on the matter. He let it all go when it was time to hit the sack, putting his head down on the pillow for the first time in what seemed like days. Although he slept for several hours, when the phone rang on the nightstand it felt like less than a minute. He reached over and grabbed the cellphone, putting it up to his head.

     "What's going on?" Pete asked, slurring the words.

     "Get down to the exchange building," Agent Avery replied. "Now."

     "Is there another bomb?" Pete inquired as he was rolling out of bed.

     "No," Avery answered. "We just found out why Grozza and Special Agent Brown haven't checked in with us."

     Pete paused for a few moments to let the comment sink in. Grozza hadn't returned some calls, but he'd thought nothing of it. Something he was starting to learn was a mistake where the Prophet was concerned. "What happened?"

     "They were stabbed," Avery answered. "Both of them at the exchange building. Something tells me they got a little too close and our boy panicked."

     "That panic would explain the house fire, too," Pete said with a groan. "I'll be down there in a half hour."

     Pete couldn't believe it as he disconnected the line. He had no time to grieve his partner of over ten years. He hopped into the shower and skipped actually washing his hair, only using the water to wake up and recharge. After a few minutes, Pete got out of the shower, dried off and was dressed less than seven minutes after speaking to Avery. It took him less than fifteen minutes to get back down to the exchange building for the second time in as many days. He even parked in the same space he did previously, aware that the exchange was hours away from opening so he wasn't worried. As he hurried toward the crime scene that was a stairwell between floors, he could see officers looking over the scene and the captain drinking a coffee while supervising.

     "How long have they been down there?" Pete asked as he tried his best not to show emotion upon seeing the corpse of his friend.

     "At least twelve hours," Avery replied. "Usually these stairs are only used for emergencies, so it could have been longer. He must have caught them by surprise, because neither man was able to get off a shot."

     "Where are their guns?" Pete asked.

     "Gone," the captain answered. "Along with their badges and wallets. Without any ID, it took a few hours after the first call to realize that they were both on the job. He did that to stall us, knowing that an officer down would have had the whole force responding."

     "So, he kills my partner," Pete said as he looked around, "Then goes off the handle and burns down my ex-wife's house. What the hell is going on with him?"

     "He could be upset that you weren't working the case," Avery suggested. "But this also could be another distraction, so I've already had McManus check in with our people on duty. No activity at the condo where your family is."

     "Doesn't change what happened here," Pete said.

    "If he thought we were getting too close," Avery continued. "Then he could have used that decoy to come back here and cash out before we or the SEC investigated further into those shorts."

     "He wouldn't have attacked unless these two were onto something," Pete agreed. "Do we know who they talked to here?"

     "We got Jones canvasing with a few officers, making calls to offices," Avery said as he turned away.

     McManus showed up and looked into the stairwell. "The FBI is not going to be happy about this."

     "Total understatement," Avery concurred.

     "Please bring this asshole in soon," McManus said to them both. "He's really starting to piss me off."

     "You're not the only one," Pete said. "This guy is going down the first shot any of us gets."

     "Permission granted," the captain said without hesitation. "Take this bastard down by any means necessary."

     Pete left the hallway, unable to look at Grozza's corpse any more than he could the hot dog vendor. A lot of these recent killings were starting to hit home and throw Pete off his game. But he had no choice; it was all part of the same case. He was more determined than ever to retrace Grozza's steps and try to find out what he knew that ended up getting him killed. After leaving the stairwell, he bumped into Jones, who seemed to be looking for him.

     "I got something," Jones said as she handed him a piece of paper. "According to the boys at the SEC, this is where Grozza and Brown were going. They were on their way to question Scott Frisby."

     "Alright," Pete said, as he kept reading. "What time were they supposed to meet this Frisby fellow?"

     "Around two in the afternoon," Jones answered. "This means they were likely hit after they met with Frisby."

     "Where is this jerk off now?" Pete asked.

     "Frisby's at home," Jones replied. "We've sent a car to watch the house."

     "Good," Avery said as he walked in on their conversation. "Let's go."

     "You stay with the nerd crew," Pete told Jones. "Call if they find anything that might help us out."

     "Yes Sir," Jones said as the two of them left.

     Pete and Avery walked back to Avery's car. Avery said nothing while driving over to Scott Frisby's house. He knew what it was like to lose a partner and as much as he wanted to say something, Avery understood Pete was in a different place right now. This was ten times worse than the cart vendor. There was nothing he could say that would make things better, so he didn't even try. Agent Avery knew that he had to wait for Pete to speak first, to break the ice.

     "It's my fault," Pete said, looking out the passenger window. "I never should have sent him out there without me."

     "It's not like you sent him alone," Avery replied. "You sent him and Brown into a building full of federal agents. That didn't require any backup. If Grozza and Brown wanted to investigate something at the exchange building, he should have called for more backup. Take no chances with the Prophet involved."

     "He had Special Agent Brown with him," Pete said, remember the feds also lost one of their own as well. "This piece of shit Frisby better have something we can work with or I'm going to put my fist through that geek's head."

     "Get in line," Avery said. The loss of any officer in the line of duty would put most of the force in a foul mood. The fact that it was the same nut who'd been terrorizing the city just made them all even angrier.

     "This isn't about the middle class," Pete said. "This is about money. I'd bet my life savings on it."

     "You're sure the Prophet is shorting all these companies?" Avery asked.

     "I would have done it if I thought of it earlier," Pete confessed.

     "Couldn't it be both, like Jones suggested?" Agent Avery asked. "Why does it have to be one or the other?"

     "Because if this was about the middle class, he wouldn't be trying to get rich off of their suffering," Pete replied. "That's what someone might call a conflict of interest."

     "Do you think Kyle Blitzer is still alive?" Avery inquired.

     "I'm not sure," Pete answered honestly. "I doubt it."

     "Neither do I," Avery concurred, "But we have to assume he is for now. I don't like these greedy bastards any more than you do, but they don't deserve to be tortured and murdered."

     "I know," Pete agreed, "But our best chance to save him is to follow this lead and hope the money leads to him and the Prophet."

     "Let's get to it then." Avery slowly pulled up to the house.

     Both men slowly walked up the door and knocked. It took a few moments for someone to answer.

     "Can I help you?" the lady asked.

     "We're looking for Scott Frisby," Pete answered.

     "He's asleep," the lady, most likely his wife, answered. "Can't this wait until morning?"

     Avery pulled out his badge. "I'm with Homeland Security, so no, this cannot wait. Get him down here immediately."

     The lady left the door open and ran up the stairs, Pete and Avery came in and closed the door behind them. Moments later, a man dressed in pajamas and a robe came down the stairs.

     "What is the meaning of this?" he roared.

     "This morning you met with a Detective Grozza and Special Agent Brown, did you not?" Avery asked.

     "Yes, I did," Frisby confirmed. "And I have nothing more to say."

     "Did you speak to anyone after they left?" Pete asked.

     "I don't think so," Frisby said. "Why?"

     "Because these men were murdered," Avery answered. "Very shortly after they met with you. We are looking through your firm's phone records right now and if you called anyone suspicious, you can be charged as an accomplice."

     "Oh my gaud," Frisby said, obviously worried. "What can I do to help?"

     "We need to know exactly what you told them," Pete continued. "And copies of anything you may have given them."

     "They questioned me about a lot of shorts that I purchased," Frisby answered. "Said they got a lot of data from the SEC and that I was in a lot of trouble. I did everything I could to cooperate but the problem is, most of the purchases I make are shorts. That's the area I specialize in, so I call in thousands of them a day. I told them I would look into all the shorts they were looking for and I was even printing off some forms tonight to give to them tomorrow."

     "We'll need a copy of those," Avery ordered. "And your full cooperation if you want to get ahead of this."

     "Absolutely!" Frisby said as he left the room.

     Agent Avery followed him into his den to make sure he didn't try to pull anything funny while he was in there. Considering what happened to Grozza and Brown, it was a good idea. Pete was glad the agent was thinking on his feet because the two murder scenes he'd see in as many days had shaken him. He wasn't at his best, and he knew it. When Frisby came back out with Avery, he was holding a handful of papers.

     "I've been going through the list of companies that your men asked me to look through," Frisby said as he handed over the papers. "There are a few people who matched a lot of them, but I hadn't gotten through them all."

     "We'll look through them," Pete said as he took them. "For now, you need to stay home today. Call in sick."

     "Alright," Frisby said, seeming even more worried. "Am I still in trouble?"

     "You might be," Avery answered. "You should have called this activity in once some of them started being too good to be true."

     "It happens more often than you think," Frisby said. "Might be why he chose me to do the deal, I can't tell with all the business I do in this field."

     "We'll be back, Mr. Frisby." Pete handed him a business card. "If you discover anything else, please don't hesitate to call."

     "I will, yes, thank you," Frisby said as he held the door open for them.

     As the two men walked back to the car, Avery was still flipping through some of the papers.

     "Do you believe him?" Avery asked.

     "Makes sense to me," Pete said. "Use a man who makes deals like this all the time and he won't even notice the difference."

     "He should have noticed when one of his clients was winning too much," Avery replied. "No one is that lucky and he should have called the SEC.

     "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it," Pete said as he got into the driver's seat. "Let's keep our eyes on the ball."

     "Check in with your family?" Avery asked.

     "I do every hour," Pete answered. "Marshals are texting me updates."

     "The Marshals are still there?" Avery inquired, confused. "What about the asset they're protecting?"

     "He's still there," Pete answered. "If the Prophet is lucky enough to get past the Marshals, he'll have Clive Daniels to deal with."

     "Clive Daniels?" Avery repeated, stunned. "You put your wife and kids up in the same safe house as the most dangerous mafia hitman in the country?"

     "They're safer with him there," Pete said, without any concern. "He also has an issue with people who target women and children."

     "That's putting it mildly," Avery agreed. "He killed a Don in Fresno for just shooting at someone with their kids in the same car. That was a bloody mess."

     "So if the Prophet tries to go after them again," Pete said, "I'm sure Clive would end our case rather abruptly."

     "I doubt we'll get that lucky," Avery said. "Does your ex know who she and the kids are rooming with right now?"

     "Nope," Pete answered. "And I prefer to keep it that way."

     "Well, let me go through these papers," Avery continued. "I have more experience working with these numbers."

     "Good, because I hate math," Pete admitted.

     As both men left Frisby's place, Avery seemed committed to keep going.

     "Once we get back to the station, hit a cot and get some shut eye," Avery suggested. "I'll do the same when you get up in the morning."

     "Sounds like a plan to me." Pete was feeling more tired than usual.

     The call to come to Grozza's homicide was getting to him again as well. He needed to recharge and get back to work with a fresh pair of eyes. The answers were in Avery's hand, and they needed to find out which one of those names were associated with the Prophet and before he struck again. He would leave the agent and his men to go through it while Pete got some much-needed shuteye.