Sorry about the delay with getting out the chapter:) Between work and taking care of our daughter, there's very little time to get any writing done.

Thanks for the all the amazing feedback I received for the last chapter:) Enjoy!

The day was a sticky, miserable hell. Grey-black clouds swarmed the sky and the threat of a summer storm never seemed far away.

"Nice neighborhood," Burke commented as they drove through the tree lined streets to the house where Cheryl's mother and sister still lived. The houses displayed a type of uniform perfection that reminded Veronica a lot of Neptune. Expensive cars clogged up the driveways and the gardens were planted with an attention to detail that suggested weekly visits from a gardening service. "This is the kind of place that Cathy is always nagging at me to go see houses in. Not that we can afford it, with the way she spends money." he finished, grumbling under his breath as they pulled up in front of the Holmes' house.

"You'd want to buy a new car, before you'd even consider looking at houses here," Veronica teased her partner. "The residents association would run you out of town if they saw you pulling up in that clapped-out piece of crap, you dare to car a car."

"Funny, Veronica," Burke returned snidely but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he reached for his briefcase. "Remind me the next time I'm considering paying good money to go see Ricky Gervais that I should just go talk to you instead."

The Holmes' house was an imposing red-bricked building that was fronted by a immaculately kept stretch of green lawn. A white painted picket fence surrounding the property and a pink-little-girl tricycle left abandoned on the grass completed the picture of perfection. It was almost impossible to imagine that not so long along ago another girl had played on the same grass with her friends but she would never be coming back.

"Welcome," Mrs. Holmes smiled in greeting to Veronica and Burke as she opened the door and ushered them quickly inside. Though aged well into her fifties, Cecelia Holmes didn't look a day over forty. Her skin was smooth and unlined and her hair still the same blue-black it had been on the day her daughter's mutilated body had been found. "What can I do you for you?"

Seated in the blue-and-silver papered drawing room, Veronica spoke first.

"It's about Cheryl," Ms. Holmes, Veronica began softly watching carefully for the woman's reaction. "Some new information on your daughter's killing has come to light."

"What do you mean?" she demanded, looking both shocked and hopeful in equal measures. The murder of her daughter had impacted deeply on Cecelia Holmes and the fact the killer had never been brought to justice only served to leave the loss of her daughter as an angry, open wound that never had a chance to heal. "Has someone been arrested for her killing?"

"Not exactly," Veronica allowed, trying to find the balance between revealing enough information to the woman that might allow the investigation to progress without damaging their case. "But we have found some new evidence that might hopefully lead to an arrest in the future."

"For a minute I thought... Oh, never mind." Cecelia Holmes finished mournfully, angry at herself for even allowing the possibly of hope at getting justice for Cheryl enter her head. "What evidence did you find?"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty of divulging that information yet," Veronica replied apologetically, feeling huge empathy towards the woman. Though outwardly Cecelia Holmes appeared to be very well put together, it was clear that this was merely a mask for the deep hurt and loss she was still carrying inside.

"We need your help, Mrs Holmes," Burke cut in, sensing Veronica's difficulty with the task on hand. "Do you recognize this man?" he asked, sliding a photo of James Clark out of his briefcase and placing it in front of the woman.

"Of course, I do," she replied, looking up at Burke in utter bafflement. "He was one of those unfortunate people who were brutally killed last week. It's been all over the television. What has that got to do with my daughter?"

"Are you sure you don't recognize him from anywhere else?" Burke pressed but the woman just shook her head and continued to stare at the photograph.

"I have never seen that man before," she reiterated assuredly. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because this man taught your daughter's history class at the time of Cheryl's murder." Burke replied and Cecelia Holmes could only stare back at him, silenced by shock.

Despite protestations from both Veronica and Burke, Cecelia Holmes insisted on departing to the kitchen to prepare some light refreshments for her guests. Veronica guessed that the woman probably needed a moment to compose herself after the shocking revelations that had just taken place. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Veronica stood up and started to look at the dozens of

Cheryl had been a beautiful girl, the photos on the wall displayed showing none of the teenage awkwardness that most people had to cringe over. With long glossy, dark hair and a kind of a willowy elegance, Cheryl had appeared to be more like a professional model than the sixteen-year-old student she had been on the day she disappeared.

"Man, I've always wanted to go skiing," Burke commented idly as he picked up a photo of the family obviously on a skiing vacation, their arms wrapped around one another as they smiled cheesily for the camera. "What about it, Mars? How about you and me try and persuade Marilyn for the team to do some bonding on a slope in Aspen? Are you listening to me Mars?" Burke tried again, when Veronica failed to answer.

"Holy crap, Burke, look at this," Veronica exploded, pointing at a picture on the wall of a little pig-tailed girl, evidently the owner of the tricycle parked outside.

"What is it?" the FBI agent demanded, getting up from the sofa and walking quickly to Veronica's side.

Staring at the picture on the wall, Burke felt as though he had been kicked in his gut.

The little girl in the photograph was almost identical to Ciara Clark.

"Don't get your hopes up, Veronica," Burke warned as they wormed through the early-afternoon traffic. "It could just be a coincidence. Nothing can be proved until after we have a match on the DNA sample for the two girls."

"You know, I don't believe in coincidences," Veronica countered, reaching for her bottle of water and taking a long swig.

The traffic was a nightmare. The earlier dark clouds had come good on their promise and rain now pounded unmercifully from the sky, causing cars to crawl along the highway at a frustratingly slow pace.

"Hey, are you okay, Mars?" Burke asked in concern, suddenly noticing how quiet his partner had got.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all," Veronica lied, resting her head back against the headrest and forcing herself to try and relax. The truth was that she was not alright. For weeks she had berated and whined about the extent of her morning sickness. The fact she could barely keep as much as a cracker and water down without being violently sick. She hated that she had been constantly tired. Constantly sick. Her breasts had been so sensitive, she could hardly pull her shirt over her head without moaning in pain. But now she felt nothing. The sickness had passed, her appetite had returned and though Veronica had welcomed feeling almost human again, there was also a small part of her that was anxious that all was well with her pregnancy. To compound her fears, she had been feeling a little crampy since waking up that morning. Nothing too concerning but worrying enough that she decided she would put a call into Dr. Clarence's office as soon as she got into work.

"How could it even be possible?" Veronica asked softly, in an effort to distract her more from her troubling thoughts about her pregnancy than to brood further on the Holmes case.

"What do you mean?" Burke asked distractedly, trying to negotiate the worsening lines of cars stalling on the road.

"I mean, someone would surely have noticed that this sixteen-year-old girl was pregnant. You might get away with it for a few months at the start but there's no way she could have hidden it in the end. Her mother, her friends... Surely someone would have noticed.

"You'd think that wouldn't you but this wouldn't be the first time a teenage girl had tried to conceal her pregnancy and certainly won't be the last. Haven't you ever heard of prom babies?"

"I know," Veronica finally conceded, relieved when Burke finally pulled up in front of the building.

"What's happening to me?" Veronica chuckled darkly as the case files she once would have consumed the second she got to the desk were now cast aside for a quick Google search on her phone.

"Cramping, first trimester" Veronica typed and nervously started scanning through the replies a woman had received when she had posted a similar query to a pregnancy forum. It seemed reassuring enough but Veronica decided to also put a call into Dr. Clarence just to out her mind at rest.

It was amazing how Veronica wanted so desperately not to be pregnant when she first took the pregnancy test in the grotty restroom in the mall and now, the prospect of losing the pregnancy was more terrifying than a million encounters with Brian Matthews or The Red Ribbon Killer.

Punching the numbers into her cell phone, Veronica waiting nervously for a reply.

"Dr. Clarence's office. How may I help you?" came the chirpy reply, which Veronica recognized as the friendly receptionist she had Logan had dealt with the other day.

"I would like to make an appointment with Dr. Clarence for as soon as possible," Veronica replied, her stomach knotting nervously as the thoughts of lying on the doctor's bed and the ultrasound not showing such good news this time.

"I have an opening at three o' clock tomorrow if that would suit," the receptionist offered brightly.

"That would be perfect," Veronica agreed with fake optimism, wondering if she could maintain her sanity waiting for an appointment which seemed to be a million years away.

Veronica was poking halfheartedly at her avocado salad, when she heard a curt knock on the door and Marilyn Hauser gazing intently at her.

"Burke just filled me in on what happened today," she began, smoothing a hand over her carefully arranged hair. "I've arranged for Cheryl's DNA and Ciara Clarks to be sent for testing. They're being rushed through as we speak so we're hoping to have results by the evening."

"That's great," Veronica agreed half-heartedly, taking another bite from her salad before pushing it dejectedly away.

"Are you alright, Veronica?" the unit director asked Veronica pointedly, having noticed how pale and sickly Veronica had seemed over the previous weeks but not wanting to intrude. "You don't seem yourself."

Veronica had been determined to keep the news of her pregnancy from her FBI colleagues for as long as she possibly manage as she didn't want to be treated differently by Burke or put on desk duty just because she was pregnant. But the stress of the morning and the pregnancy hormones was making the deception more difficult by the day.

"I'm fine," Veronica quickly lied, flashing Marilyn a weak smile. The last thing she needed right now was to have Marilyn Hauser know she was pregnant. Marilyn would probably insist Veronica take a few days off work and work was the only thing keeping Veronica sane right now."Just tired, that's all. It's been a crazy few weeks and I've not been able to catch up with my missed sleep quota, if you get what I'm saying,"

"Once that's all it is, that's fine, Veronica," Marilyn replied, though the look on her face told Veronica that she didn't entirely believe her. "Maybe take the rest of the day off. Catch up on some of that sleep and return tomorrow rested and ready to work."

"Really, I'm fine," Veronica insisted, annoyed she had displayed her weakness for Marilyn to see. "I've loads of work to get to."

"Veronica, this is not up for discussion. Go home and we will see you in the morning. Do I make myself clear?" she demanded.

"Crystal." Veronica replied through gritted teeth. She might have to go home but that didn't mean she couldn't do any work. Sliding the case files into her briefcase, Veronica made Burke swear he would ring her the second he heard anything about the DNA samples before heading outside to her car.

Pushing her way into the apartment, Veronica dropped her briefcase by the door before throwing herself gratefully onto the sofa. Reaching for the remote, she absently switched on the television and laying down on cool leather, tried to relax as the reality show playing on screen became a comforting buzz of white noise in the background. She was utterly exhausted. Marilyn was right, Veronica conceded, as she closed her eyes and felt the dull throb in her head finally recede for the first time in days. I really needed this, her contentment growing as her eyes grew steadily heavier.

It felt like only minutes later that she heard Logan sliding his key into the door and his footsteps creaking across the battered floorboards. Groggily opening her eyes, Veronica was shocked to see that it was dark outside, the inky-blue sky already sprinkled with stars that now glittered in at her through the still open curtains.

"You're home early," Logan commented with a smile as he switched on the light before crossing the room to where his girlfriend still lay sprawled on the sofa. "How did you swing that?"

"Marilyn was feeling particularly bossy today and she sent me home to get some sleep," Veronica replied grumpily, still very tired and not happy at having her sleep intruded on by Logan's return.

"I like bossy Marilyn," Logan smiled, giving his girlfriend a quick kiss before taking a seat beside her. "Especially if it means I get to spend more time with you. We should take advantage of this, maybe go for some dinner or something?" he suggested brightly.

"It's easy to know you're not pregnant," Veronica sighed wearily, pulling herself to a sitting position and stretching her arms high above her head. "I have to go back to bed for another hour or so and then we can do whatever you want," she allowed with an apologetic smile. "I swear, I've never been so tired before in my life."

Closing the door of their bedroom behind her, Veronica relished the quiet, cool of the room as she unbuttoned her shirt and skirt and hung them up carefully in the wardrobe. Left standing in her underwear, she rummaged through Logan's drawer finding an old t-shirt of his to pull on when she felt a sudden sticky dampness down below.

Pulling down her underwear with shaking hands, Veronica felt like she had been punched in the gut seeing the bright red of the blood staining the fabric.