After several hours making calls and chasing leads, Pete finally needed to call it a day. He ordered Grozza and Jones to do the same and quickly briefed the overnight detectives and gave them all the Intel they needed to keep an eye on things while they recharged. Pete didn't get off work until seven, which meant Jessie had already picked up her brothers and most likely fed them a slab of pizza. When he came home, the aroma of pepperoni led him to believe his instincts were correct. As he came into the small townhouse, a movie was playing on the television and the boys were eating popcorn with their older sister. No one at first noticed he had even arrived. Either he was that quiet or the movie was that good.

     "Don't everyone get up at once." Pete said as he tossed his overcoat onto one of the chairs in the hallway. Usually after a long day, he didn't even want to hang the coat up, out of fear it was going back onto him before midnight.

     Once the two young boys realized their dad was home, they ran out of the living room and hugged him. Jessie stayed on the couch and waved from there.

     "Hard day?" she called out.

     "You could say that." Pete walked the boys back in. "What are we watching on the tube?"

     "It's a cool movie," Jack replied. "It's called Frozen."

     "Now that sounds cool." Pete looked over at Jessie with a face that displayed his annoyance. He had worked so hard to keep that movie out of his house, thinking he had dodged a bullet. Now Jesse was bringing that soul-wrenching masterpiece into his home for them to watch a zillion times.

     "Thanks, Jessie," Pete said with a fake smile.

     "You're welcome." Jessie was amused by the simple things in life. She also liked the movie and didn't care what her father thought.

     Pete stole a slice of pizza from one of the boxes on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to get something to drink while the boys continued to watch their movie.

     Jessie quickly followed her father into the kitchen. "Kind of surprised to see you home."

     "I am, too, but I'm no good to anyone without sleep and a shower." Pete pulled a longneck from the fridge.

     "Are you really working this Prophet case?" Jessie inquired. "That guy has been all over the news."

     "I am," Pete admitted.

     "For heaven's sake," Jessie said, annoyed. "You know my mom and their mom would flip if they knew you were heading this case. They'd accuse you of endangering all of us."

     "I'm not that concerned about that," Pete honestly told her.

     "Why not?" Jessie asked.

     "You're not his preferred target," Pete explained. "If this prophet is serious about this whole remember the ninety-nine bullshit, he's only after the one percent, and I can assure you that we're not in that club."

     "First time I've been happy for not being rich," Jessie admitted.

     "No kidding," Pete said as he bit into the slice. "Makes me happy my lotto numbers haven't come in yet."

     "How bad are things out there today?" Jessie asked.

     "You remember those flight cancellations across the East Coast?" Pete countered. When she nodded, he continued, "That wasn't a terrorist drill. The Prophet had been hitting planes in the air. Our guy has been a busy boy today."

     "I had no idea it was that bad," Jessie finally admitted.

     "Don't tell anyone, especially your mother," Pete ordered.

     "Will you need me tomorrow as well?" she asked.

     "I'll need you all weekend," Pete confessed. "This guy is showing no signs of letting up. I wouldn't be surprised if another body dropped tonight. Since I'm getting time and half, you'll get time and a half, too."

     "I appreciate that," Jessie said. "And I have no problem watching the boys. You know how much I enjoy having younger siblings."

     "I do." Pete let out a deep sigh. He was exhausted.

     "Is this guy for real?" Jessie suddenly asked.

     "I'm afraid so," Pete replied. "Certifiably crazy, but quite serious."

     "That's not fair," she protested.

     "How come?" Pete asked.

     "There are many people downtown protesting what the banks did to us and our economy almost a decade ago," Jessie started. "Even if this guy is nuts, these people are not, and they're standing up to the hypocrisy of the bail outs."

     "I know," Pete said as he sat down in the kitchen. "This guy might be using the ninety-nine thing as a decoy, to throw us off the real scent."

     "So this could all be a total misdirection?" Jessie asked.

     "One of many ideas we're tossing around," Pete answered.

     "What other motive could he have for targeting these people?" Jessie asked as she placed her mug into the kitchen sink.

     "I have no idea," Pete confessed.

     "Could it be competition?" Jessie suggested.

     "What do you mean?" Pete asked, eager to hear more.

     "Find out who benefits from the death of who's been taken so far," Jessie explained, "See if there's another company that benefits from their demise. Some of these company's stocks would plummet if they lost their CEO or chairman, so find out who stands to benefit from it and you might find his true motives."

     "I'll get someone on it," Pete said with a sense of pride swelling within him. Jessie may have inherited those looks from her mother, but that was his brain clicking inside her head and processing the situation like a real detective. She had a good head on her shoulders, but Pete was hoping Jessie would make the most of it and try to do something better than fight crime like her old man. She could be anything she wanted, and he hoped that her mother would help her be a little more ambitious with her life choices. He could only hope she would reach for the stars rather than ground herself in the mud with him. Pete distanced himself from the case and the news for the rest of the evening, paying attention to his kids and trying to cleanse his mind of the day's madness. He was confident that if something happened, he would hear about it soon and didn't need to spend his night worrying or waiting for the hammer to fall. He watched the rest of that annoying movie with his boys before getting them to brush their teeth and head to bed. After the boys were down for the night, Pete came downstairs to see Jessie packing her bag.

     "Where are you going?" Pete asked.

     "Just to hang out with my friends," Jessie answered. "Maybe catch a movie or go out for sushi."

     "I'd actually prefer you stay here." Pete walked over and crossed his arms. "This weekend I'd prefer if everyone stayed in."

     "Dad, if they call you in, I can be back in ten minutes." Jessie finished packing and then looked up to see the expression on her dad's face. He was worried about something and she could tell. "What is it?"

     "I talked to him today," Pete confessed.

     "To who?" Jessie asked.

     "To him," Pete explained. "The Prophet. He called me on my cell less than six hours ago."

     "What was he calling you for?" Jessie asked.

     "To gloat I think," Pete answered. "Maybe to let me know that he was in control. He even knew my name and it freaked me out just a little bit."

     "You're scared he might come after us?" Jessie then asked. "I thought he wouldn't target us cause we're not the one percent?"

     "I don't think he will," Pete honestly answered. "But for now I'd really appreciate it if we all stayed in and not give him that temptation. Please."

     Jessie could tell by her father's expression that he was genuinely concerned and even scared. Considering the chaos that the city had been enduring at the hands of this madman, his request didn't seem out of line.

     "Just this once," Jessie said as she tossed her coat back down. "It's also good to have me here if you have to leave immediately, but that means I'm still on the clock."

     Pete never liked to be picky about finances, especially when she was doing a favor for him. She was putting her life on hold for his sanity, and he really appreciated the fact that she cared enough to understand.

     "I'll make it up to you," Pete told her. "Maybe I'll take you out for sushi."

     Jessie laughed. "That I would love to see."

     Pete let out a deep sigh, as this was one less thing he had to worry about that night. He poured himself a glass of scotch and held the bottle up for his little girl, who was legally allowed to drink now.

     "No thanks, I'm not a hard drinker," Jessie said.

     "Glad to hear it," Pete said as he sat down on one of the La-Z-boys. "It's not really good for you."

     "Nothing is, if you consume too much of it," Jessie said as she also sat down, now that she wasn't going anywhere. "Moderation is the key."

     "I don't think my perp is going to follow that, "Pete admitted. "He's escalating at a breakneck speed. The next body could fall sooner rather than later, which means I should get some sleep while I still can."

     "I'm going to watch some news," Jessie replied as she grabbed the remote.

     "That's my cue to go." Pete slowly went up the stairs and didn't even undress. Just took his socks and tie off and crashed on the big bed. For whatever reason, Pete could sleep in almost anything, but he had to take his socks off as he hated the restriction when trying to relax. The socks had to go or he wouldn't get a wink. It didn't take him long to fall asleep pretty soundly throughout the night. He was expecting the station to eventually call, but they never did. The next morning, Pete got up and started to make eggs for his boys. Jessie stayed up later than he did, so Pete decided to let her sleep in as long as she wanted.

     "Dad, there's someone on the phone for you," Michael said, holding up the cordless house line.

     "Michael," Pete said as he looked over. "What did I say about answering Daddy's phone?"

     "I'm sorry, I thought it was Mom," Michael told him.

     Pete paused for a moment. "It's not your mother?"

     "No, it's an Indian," Michael said.

     "An Indian?" Pete repeated. "How do you know that?"

     Michael held up the phone. "His name is Geronimo."

     Pete took the phone from his son and looked over at Jack. "Take your breakfast into the living room and watch TV."

     After both boys vacated the room with their breakfasts, Pete took a deep breath before speaking into the phone. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve calling me at home, you gutless piece of crap."

     "I'm sorry, Pete," the voice replied. "But I knew you'd have more trouble tracing the call from there."

     He was right; there was no equipment set up and the station was only set up to trace his cellphone and not the house's land line. Pete pulled out his cell and sent a text to the station, letting them know he had the Prophet on the home line. Hopefully someone would try to trace it while he gabbed with the Prophet.

     "I'm not on duty," Pete informed him.

     "You're always on duty," Geronimo corrected. "That's why you have that lovely daughter of yours there to cover for you. She won't be needed, at least not this weekend. Her name is Jessie, right?"

     "It would be wise to keep them out of this," Pete said, his tone becoming hostile as he realized how much the perp knew about his family.

     "Relax, Pete," the Prophet replied. "I'm not going to interfere with your family time. There will be no attacks of any kind this weekend, so you can spend some quality time with the kids. Family is important, so I wouldn't dream of depriving those young men of quality time with their father."

    "I appreciate that," Pete said, genuinely surprised. Usually psychos who kill didn't show this kind of sympathy. "A shame you didn't show this kind of compassion for the two kids you murdered downtown."

     "Not my fault," Geronimo replied. "They were not supposed to be home for hours. They were supposed to find the bodies."

     "It is your fault," Pete retorted, not buying his bullshit. "You pulled the trigger."

     "Sometimes people are guilty without even pulling the trigger," Geronimo said with a harsher tone. "This Monday, Pete, you are going to learn that even inaction can have severe consequences."

     Pete wanted to say something harsh in response but the line went dead. He looked up and standing at the bottom of the stairs leading into the hallway, which was visible from the kitchen, was his daughter. She had that look in her eyes that told Pete that trying to bullshit her would be futile. She likely heard the whole thing.

     "That was him, wasn't it?" she asked.

     Pete paused and took a deep breath. "Yes, it was."

     Jessie looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Why is that psycho calling us at home?"

     "To tell us we have the weekend off," Pete told her. "He said no one will be hurt until the boys go back to their mother. Apparently doesn't want to get in the way of my weekend."

     "Seriously?" Jessie asked, as she could hardly believe it. Pete could tell that she was scared he had called the house.

     "My previous premise seems correct," Pete explained. "He's got no intention of harming any of us because he thinks we're on the same side; the middle class. He doesn't even want to disrupt my weekend with the boys, so I think no harm will come to any of us."

     "Until you piss him off," Jessie added.

     She was right, this was all contingent on playing Geronimo's game. If he came close to catching him again, then it could really cause problems. Pete wasn't taking any chances, and he called the station to speak to his captain and inform him that the Prophet had called his house. In response to that, the captain offered to let him relocate the kids to another location, maybe a hotel, and Pete declined. The Prophet was watching and there was no where he wouldn't find them. It was best to stay there and pretend to be doing things his way and try to avoid tempting fate. Pete, however, was aware of what was coming next. Less than an hour later, several squad cars and techs from the station arrived to set up a trace in case Geronimo decided to call again. Odds were not on their side, but they had to set it up anyway. Officer Jones was with them, this time in uniform as Pete had seen her the first day.

     "What are you doing here?" Pete asked.

     "We're going to leave two cars here, just to be safe," Jones explained.

     "Was to be expected." Gibbons said.

     "And someone needs to stay inside at all times." Jones added, "I volunteered because I thought we could talk the case and get some work done."

     "That was nice of you, but we're not working," Pete replied.

     "Oh," Jones said, surprised. "Okay."

     "There's a good chance the Prophet is watching," Pete told her as he looked out the window. "If I don't spend time with the kids, he might get angry and we don't want that. We have to comply for now, so Jessie and I are taking the kids to the park and doing normal family things today. You guys can set up the equipment in the living room while we're out. Tell the tech boys to sweep the place for bugs and cameras, too."

     "Alright," Jones said. "I'll tell the techs to wait until you leave for the park to get started."

     "Thank you," Pete replied.

     Pete showered and then changed into something more casual. Blue jeans, white T-shirt and even some sneakers. He put on a jacket that wasn't heavy but covered the fact that he would be carrying a gun when taking the boys to the park. He wasn't taking any chances while the Prophet was still watching. As Jessie and Pete walked the boys out of the house to walk to the nearby park, he leaned over to one of the techs who was getting ready to install stuff to trace the Prophet's next call.

     "Break anything," Pete said to him, "And it's comes out of your next check."

     "Yes, sir." One of the techs called out.