Mornings usually brought a few different things for Riley. They brought an undying thirst for caffeine, a hunger for something to eat, a desperate need for a shower, and, on occasiosn like that morning, they also brought a meeting with some friends. After showering and getting dressed, he found himself at a Manhattan diner where they’d all agreed to meet up and talk.

Riley loved being in a position where he could make a few phone calls or send a couple texts and have some of the best cops in New York drop everything to come meet him. Calem, Quinn, Jesse, and Noah were all on their way to meet him for an early breakfast. Riley got there first. The place was quintessential New York: a Greek diner, filled with people at the earliest hours of the morning, and the smell of the best breakfast food in the city permeating the air around him. Bacon, sausage, hash browns, pancakes, this place smelled like all of it at once, and Riley couldn’t wait to eat. But wait was exactly what he had to do, of course, because it was a breakfast for five. 

Noah got there first. It had been a few months since they’d seen each other, even though they kept in close contact. Riley had been back on the grind at work, while Noah was busy working his PI business with Quinn. “My man,” Noah said, walking up and hugging Riley. “You look damn good, detective.”

“You, too, man,” Riley said back. “Private work suits you well, I see.”

“It’s been great, actually. Ever since the Network thing we’ve been getting a lot of work. Too much, actually. Calem’s been helping out doing some consultation stuff. I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

“I’d love to hear, but right now, this case I’m working is too urgent for chit-chat.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“Let me wait until everyone gets here,” Riley said. “I’d rather not have to repeat myself.”

“Yeah, of course, you got it.”

They didn’t have to wait very long. In the next ten minutes Quinn, Jesse, and Calem all arrived and after the requisite hugs, handshakes, and niceties, Riley got right down to business. “First off, thank you all for making yourselves free this morning.”

“Of course,” Calem said. “You made it sound urgent, so here we are.”

“Yeah, man,” Jesse said. “Whatever you need. You know we’ve got your back.” 

“So what brings us all together?” Quinn asked.

“Why don’t we order first?” Riley suggested. “This is gonna be one hell of a story, and one hell of an ask at the end of it, so let’s load up on sausage and French toast.”

They all ordered, mostly breakfast foods and coffee—diner food 101—and then Riley took a deep breath, a large sip of coffee, and told the story. It had only been a few days, but in that short time he’d met a great, dedicated detective, visited Staten Island for the first time in his life, met a wonderful woman who was probably still pissed at him, and engaged in a deadly cat and mouse game with a Jack the Ripper wannabe. It was that last part that made up the bulk of the story. Riley filled in all of the details as he had them, including the stabbing and the letter, and everyone at the table let their food get cold to listen.

“What the holy fuck?” Jesse asked.

“If I could get a tee shirt made that says that, I would. It’s how I’ve felt this entire time.” Riley wasn’t kidding. This was the craziest case of his career, and that was saying something. Every facet of it was a new experience, and he knew that he needed their help. He’d photocopied the letter in the hospital and brought copies for all the guys. He handed them out and watched as they read in horror. 

“Today is Friday,” Calem said matter-of-factly. “That means that if the timeframe is to be believed, he could strike anytime, day or night, in the next two days.”

“True,” Quinn added. “But I don’t think it’s as open ended as all that. I think he wants you to think that, Riley, but in reality I think he’ll strike at night and he’ll try to kill in the same place.”

“I agree,” Noah chimed in. “I think this is a giant distraction. He seems rational in this letter, but he’s crazy as all fuck. And you don’t go to the elaborate lengths of killing in the exact manner as Jack the Ripper just to abandon the MO at the last possible minute. This last one matters to him, it’s his final one, theoretically.”

“Yeah I don’t believe it’s his last one for a minute,” Jesse said, sipping his cold coffee. “Nor do I think these were his first murders either. You don’t start off this clean, no way. He might be a drifter, or someone who killed in different states to learn the craft, before he progressed to this.”

“Look, I agree with everything being said here, and I appreciate the level of analysis, I really do, but I need help catching this fuck. I can’t let him kill again.”

Calem looked concerned. He often looked concerned, but in particular at Riley’s last statement. “Riley,” he began. “I admire your will and your dedication. I think it’s something we all share at this table, but you have to accept that you may not be able to catch this one.”

Riley looked up. He didn’t want to hear those words, yet their truth echoed inside of him and touched an emotion he was trying desperately to hide—sadness. “I know,” he said solemnly. “But I can’t acknowledge that yet, even though I know it’s true. Right now there is no choice but to end this.”

“I can’t speak for these other clowns,” Jesse said. “But, personally, I have nothing going on this weekend. As far as I know there are no good movies out, and I’ve binge watched all my favorite shows on Netflix. So I guess catching a serial killer sounds like a good time, how about you all?”

“Took the words out of my mouth,” Quinn said.

“I second that,” said Noah.

“Third.” Calem smiled this time. It was a determined, intense smile, and it filled Riley with confidence. 

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you all.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Quinn said. “We’re in this together, always.”

Riley was beyond touched, but he let that feeling come and go so that he could get back to the task at hand. “No, Quinn, I absolutely have to thank you, all of you. Can we meet later? I think this one needs some planning.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Calem said. “Besides, Cordelia and Haddie are going out tonight.”

“They sure are,” Jesse said. “Had’s been talking about it for a week.”

“Jen won’t mind,” Quinn said.

“And neither will Eliza. I’ll text her now.”

“Thanks guys.”

They finished their meal and agreed to meet for dinner later on that night. Riley was thankful, if not filled with trepidation. He was feeling a range of emotions. He was worried about Emily, stressed for himself, and most of all, he was concerned for the potential Ripper victims out there on Staten Island. But there was one more thing he felt bad about that needed to be addressed before he got back to work. As they exited the diner and went their separate ways, he pulled his phone out and texted. 

“We need to talk. I’m beyond sorry. Will you meet me?”

“Noon, at Pietro’s.” Samantha texted back. 

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He’d be there with bells on.