"We really need to consider if this is actually even the same perp!" Asbel yelled, scowling. Hubert was blaming Richard, again, even though the modus operandi was completely different this time.

Hubert met his gaze and held it. "Yes, Asbel, I was getting to that."

His brother was clearly angry, and the rest of the team shifted uncomfortably as the two brothers stared one another down. Nobody wanted to get involved in the family squabble—especially since one of them was the section head. Honestly, tensions were running high through the entire team, and not just with the two of them; nobody wanted to talk about the massacre.

And that was precisely what they needed to talk about.

"As I was saying, we are looking at this as though it is our...Lambda killer," Hubert disliked giving murderers names, he said it gave them too much notoriety. Asbel agreed, "but there is no denying that the MO is completely different. However, since Lambda has been the only serial killer active in our region lately, an MO changed is not enough to completely rule him out."

He, Asbel noted, as in Richard.

"Furthermore, as I was getting to before," Hubert levelled Asbel with a pointed look, "we cannot ignore the lull in activity. It is possible something came up in his life, and when it was over, he reacted like this. The lack of a symbol could therefore just be the result of time constraints."

Asbel sent him a look right back, and Hubert sighed. "However, the lack of execution style killing is a major setback in accusing our usual perp."

"It could be him devolving," another officer supplied.

Much to Asbel's annoyance, Hubert nodded. "Yes. We cannot ignore that possibility, either."

"It could also be someone taking advantage of our investigation to commit a crime," Asbel suggested.

"Or a gang war," another officer supplied.

"Both possibilities. Now, let's go over the evidence..."

The night dragged on, ideas being passed around and corroborated to the evidence they had managed to gather. By dawn, the evidence wall was covered in bloody photos, and Asbel was certain he would never eat again. By the time he was dismissed to get some rest, he was also reasonable certain he would never sleep again.

He didn't head home. He couldn't shake the feeling that this mess was somehow his fault. He had upset Richard, and—

No. No! Fuck it, no! That was far too close to blaming Richard, and he knew his friend was not to blame. It was just that all of the talk was rattling his overtired, overtaxed mind, and mixing up his logical thinking. That was all.

On a sudden whim, he wheeled his car around, cutting a corner a touch to sharply, and headed to the outskirts of town.

Rain had plagued the city for days now, but that did little to stop Richard from enjoying his garden...or, perhaps enjoy was too strong a word, but he was outside nevertheless. Seated on his garden swing, he pointedly ignored Malik and the other three bodyguards forming a protective perimeter around him.

He rocked slowly, paying no heed to the light rainfall soaking him through. He had pulled an all-nighter, and now...he just did not feel like sleeping. There had been so much to do, the hours had slipped away from him.

None of his guards openly protested being outside, none dared, though Richard could sense their annoyance. He did not care. None of them were stupid enough to try anything. Nobody would disturb him for as long as he chose to remain outside, rain or not.

He stared at the sky, slowly rocking the swing. Around him, plants drooped, heavy with rainwater, and the top of a nearby pond rippled with falling drops. Just barely, he could make out Malik's back in the distance. He knew if he sought them out. His other three guards would look much the same, wet and full of carefully-concealed annoyance.

Not bothering him. Good. Let them all leave hi—

"Sir?"

Richard jumped, head snapping around to face the man who had spoken. One of his other bodyguards. "What?"

"...a message, sir. From the house. It seems you have a visitor."

"Take a name and send them away," he grumbled, waving one hand and turning away.

"Yes, Sir. It seems it is an Asbel Lhant."

...Asbel? Since the other day at the park, when Asbel had so blatantly fled, Richard had written that friendship off as a lost cause.

He stood, not allowing himself to think it over. "Invite him in. Tell him I will be down shortly," he said, hurrying back to his estate. Maybe he had imagined it all...

Twenty minutes saw him dried and dressed, striding confidently into the comfortable sitting room where Asbel had been asked to wait. The room was decorated in a red and white motif, with dark window hangings, and leather furniture. A merry blaze took the damp chill out of the air from an expansive, stone fireplace, and a large rug covered the hardwood floor.

"Richard!" Asbel stood, a hopeful look on his face. "You're here! I mean, uh, I'm glad to see you."

Dismissing his guard with a wave, Richard gave a polite nod. "This is where I live, Asbel."

His friend chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Right, yeah, it's just...I didn't know if you'd be home."

"I am, but perhaps you should not be."

Asbel met his words with a wry smile. "Yeah, sorry about that, but...I wanted to apologise for how I ran off on you the other day. I, uh..."

"You were nervous having your daughter so close to a criminal."

"Wha—no! Of course not, Richard. You know I don't think of you that way!" Richard watched him silently, with a gaze that asked if he really did know that right back. Asbel awkwardly rubbed his own arm. "It was just...the conversation was hard to take, and..."

"Tell me, Asbel, do you believe last night's crime was committed by me?"

"No," Richard was surprised, but not displeased, by the steadiness in his friend's tone, the way Asbel confidently met his eyes, "of course it wasn't you."

Richard closed his eyes, then nodded once. "It was not me, of course, and it does me good to hear you say that."

"I'm on your side, Richard. I know none of this is your fault."

Richard graced his friend with the slightest of smiles. "Thank you, Asbel."

Asbel smiled at him, and Richard couldn't help the wave of affection that came over him. He was beautiful. He stepped up, cupping Asbel's cheek in one hand.

"Richard?"

He kissed Asbel gently, the barest touch of lips fluttering across one another. Without any coaxing, the other man's mouth opened, and Richard dared to dart his tongue in, brushing softly against Asbel's. His actions were met with a soft moan.

"...Richard," Asbel breathed softly, pulling back just far enough to speak. Wordlessly, the both looked towards the couch, and in mutual agreement, headed over to it.

Asbel slipped away an hour later feeling much better. Hoping into his car, he pressed his forehead to the steering wheel. He hadn't intended for, well...that to happen, but it had. He could not say he regretted it.

Smiling to himself, he fired up the engine and pulled out to head back to town. The rain had picked up into a full-on downpour, masking visibility. Flicking on the wipers, he slowed down, watching the road closely. Not much traffic was out, but it was better safe than sorry—ah, there was a car at the intersection.

Accelerating slightly, to give the other driver room to turn in behind him, Asbel frowned a bit when the driver got too close. He understood wanting to use another car's headlights in this rain, but that was too close to be safe.

Eventually, he hit the main road. The downpour had ceased by then, so he pulled out into traffic easily. Fiddling with the radio, he turned it up, singing along cheerfully as he drove the rest of the way home.

"You're certain of what you saw?"

"Yes, ma'am. There can be no doubt."

"And why are you telling me this?"

That drew a pause from the other end of the phone. "Ma'am? I thought you wanted anything we could use—"

"I do," she cut off neatly, "what I am asking is if this is useable information."

"Oh, right. Of course. I don't see how it could not be useful."

She tsked lightly. "It never occurred to you that that was not a social call?"

"Uh, well, I guess—"

"Less guessing and more answers. Get back out there and find me real, useful information."

"Yes, ma—"

She hung up, sighing in annoyance. When you needed something done, do it yourself. That was a mantra to live by.

"Hu?"

Picking up the glasses he had set on the desk, Hubert set them back on his nose. "Yes, Pascal?" he asked as warm arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"You comin' to bed?"

They had been up all night, and both needed rest, but despite being tired, Hubert did not think he could turn his brain off enough to actually sleep.

"Perhaps later. I need to go over this—"

"It's not your fault, Hu," she said after a moment, grip on him tightening in a comforting hug.

"A kind sentiment, and while I do appreciate the gesture, we both know that's not true. If I had caught this guy already, nobody would have died."

"No. If this guy wasn't a psycho killer, nobody would have died. It's the fault of the killer, not those of us tryin' to catch him—or her."

The seriousness in her tone gave him pause. "Does it really not bother you? We have the power to stop this—"

"If we let every killer we haven't caught drive us crazy, we'll go all loony in a week. Do what we can, nothin' else for it."

He saw some wisdom to his wife's words, but damn if it was easy to accept. So many people were dead, and if he had just found the guy already...

"Do you think it's Richard?" he asked, instead of voicing his doubts.

"Hm...I dunno. Can't really deny the evidence, but thing is, we don't have that much evidence against him, just his family name, really."

"That is what concerns me," he confessed. "Perhaps my blindness, in being unable to see another culprit, is what is holding us back from apprehending the true perp."

"You think that's it?"

"...I'm no longer certain," he confessed. "Asbel's belief in him is strong."

"It is," Pascal agreed. "So...circumstantial evidence, none of which is conclusive, Asbel's unwavering faith in Richard, and a completely random MO. Seems like we need to start searchin' elsewhere."

She made it sound so easy. Hubert wished he could see things that clearly, but his mind just did not work like that. His gut told him it was Richard—that family had been a thorn in the city for too long—but maybe it was time for him to start listening to other people. Nobody knew the evidence like Pascal, and Asbel followed his own gut, and his gut said it wasn't Richard...

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Pascal. "Tell me how you see it."

"Sir."

Richard glanced up at Malik's voice. He had been trying to focus on reading an e-mail, but his mind was, admittedly, more on Asbel. He quickly composed himself, sitting back and crossing his ankles.

"Speak."

"We spotted one of Emeraude's men in the area. We don't know why he was there, or if he was up to anything, but two of my agents reported it to me."

Richard frowned. "Tell me everything."

"He drove around the area, parked, then left—and sir? It was about the time your guest departed."

Richard frowned deeply. "Could he have seen Asbel?"

"It is possible."

Richard frowned deeply at that. "Have Victoria and Sheena keep an eye on Asbel's house."

"...are you certain about that, sir? He is—"

"I trust them both to show appropriate discretion." And if Emeraude was on to Asbel...well, he had no desire to see Asbel harmed.

"Very well, sir. I will see to it immediately."

"Good. I also want written reports from every agent who saw anything."

"Of course, sir."

"Good. Go ahead," he said, turning back to his e-mail. It was probably nothing, but better safe than sorry.