Amelia Greene tensed in the soft, leather car seat and glanced at Jesse King shyly before turning her attention to the gloom outside. She knew where Jesse wanted to go, to a private but well known spot at the top of the hills overlooking one of Miami's infamous beaches. It was a sad cliché, two high school students driving in the night like secret lovers heading to one of the better known make-out points. As it was nine o'clock Jesse reasoned that it was too early for a crowd, and it was a Tuesday night, not a popular night for driving up to the hills for the sole purpose of making out.

Amelia wasn't keen on the trip but she feared discovery more than suffering a lengthy journey up to the windy sand hills. Jesse was Amanda Steel's boyfriend after all and Amanda's spies were everywhere, worse still was that Amanda was the head cheerleader of Sun Burrows High and therefore quite capable of making Amelia's life hell if she found out about the betrayal. Amelia couldn't resist Jesse though, he was cute, charming, athletic, intelligent and, most importantly, he was generous to his women.

She watched a few car lights flash past along the moderately busy road and then the 9:10 bus before the traffic started to thin as the car began to wind its way up the road to the hills at last and the scenery became dense trees, rocks, yellow grass, sand and dirt, all coated in shades of black and grey with hints of the half moonlight that peeped out from behind a cloud. The hills weren't particularly high; in fact Amelia was fairly sure most of them had started as dunes save the hill they were venturing up now; it had to have something more solid than sand supporting it for there to be a road, right? Plus there were trees; trees needed dirt and stuff, right? Amelia wasn't sure, biology and geology weren't exactly her strong points. The slender brunette had only two interests at school- gymnastics and music.

They finally reached the top and Jesse turned off the engine with a small grunt of satisfaction. He turned to Amelia with a cocky, somewhat suggestive smile before clicking off his seatbelt and leaning in for a kiss as the belt slipped up his shoulder. Amelia responded in kind, pressing into his soft lips eagerly. She frowned a little when instead of the expected hand sliding up her skirt, he sat back suddenly.

"I need a piss," he grumbled. Seeing the annoyance that flashed in her blue eyes he added hastily, "sorry, it was a long drive. I won't be long."

"Jesse it's dark out there," Amelia moaned as she glanced out his window with uncertainty.

"Lock the doors then," Jesse retorted mockingly with a smirk. "I'll knock three times when I return so you know it's not a nut from the bushes."

"Jesse don't joke," Amelia retorted sternly as she glowered over at him.

Jesse just laughed, waved his hands and made a 'woo' noise before he hit off the car lights so the car didn't beep when he opened the door and slipped out into the night.

The air was muggy, uncomfortable for the young male to breathe in especially with the salt and sand hanging in it. They were long due a storm to relieve the heaviness of the climate and Jesse found himself wishing that the breeze would drop as it was warm and only served to sprinkle sand in his eyes. He glanced about for a good spot to urinate, reasoning that it didn't matter much since there was no one around before he staggered over to a small group of palm trees.

Amelia waited impatiently in the now locked car and contemplated hitting the radio on before she realised Jesse had taken the car keys in his pocket. She sighed, flopped back in her seat and tugged out her phone, going online to check out the gossip. She scanned through several people's pages, commenting on her friend Abby's post about her new dress, before a knock came. She jumped in surprise before looking out to the gloom but it was impossible to see anything outside the car.

KNOCK. KNOCK. Two bangs on the metal door. She reached tentatively to the button beside Jesse's seat that opened the doors. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. The bangs came frantically, violent and fast. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Amelia froze in horror and was about to yell when everything fell silent. Suddenly she realised that there was something odd about the banging, and her eyes rolled upwards as she realised what it was. Something had been banging on the roof! Terrified she looked to the backseat, there was an old, navy blanket there Jesse kept to spread out on the sand when he was at the beach with Amanda.

Amelia considered that Jesse might just be trying to scare her but when the banging started again she decided that she was better safe than sorry and moved in a low, quick movement to the backseat, taking care to keep below the window line.

BANG! BANG! BANG! It was there again, frantic knocking on the roof. She pulled the blanket over herself as she hid in the backseat, tugged out her phone and dialled the police.

"911, what's your emergency?" a female's practised, calm speech called out.

"Hello," Amelia croaked in a hushed voice, "look I'm on the hills near Burrows Beach, just off East Point Road, I'm in my boyfriend's car and I think someone's out there."

"Okay, stay calm, what's your name and what do you mean you think someone's out there?"

"Amelia Greene, look my boyfriend went to pee and now there's something banging on the roof of the car and I don't think it's him! Please send someone!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Okay, just stay on the line."

BANG! BANG! BANG! The metallic thuds pounded through Amelia's head causing her to whimper and whisper pleas with each one. When the banging stopped she wanted to feel relief but she didn't have the chance as suddenly there was a much more bone chilling sound. The car doors clicked open.

Dawn always seemed to look beautiful in Miami, the sky was pink and gold, the sun was bright on the horizon but not yet high enough to scald and the clouds were soft and tinged in rose and lilac. Today was no different, the sky still looked warm and calm promising another clammy mid-autumn day, but down below was a different scenario.

A blue Ford Mustang, fifth generation, was part of a grisly murder scene, completely intact save for a few scratches and minor dents it was also partially supporting a very much dead young male on its roof. The boy, one Jesse King, identified by his bank card, was hanging by a noose from a sand pine's branch, his feet resting near the right side of the car's roof.

Timothy 'Speed' Speedle looked at the scene with slight intrigue as he snapped photographs. "This seems familiar," he murmured, prompting a curious glance from his superior.

"Two victims," Lieutenant Horatio Caine summed up.

"Two?" Tim interrupted.

"Back here," Dr. Alexx Woods, the medical examiner, commented as she leaned back from the open, back, left door, "poor honey fought with all she had but it did her no good in the end."

"Who is she?" Tim quipped as he moved round for a better look. There was a girl hanging half out of the door, face up, eyes frozen in horror, throat open and exposed, and several deep slash marks showing on her chest and torso.

"Amelia Greene," Horatio retorted calmly, "she made the call at 21:42; she told the operator she was in her boyfriend's car and that she thought someone was 'out there', she then explained that her boyfriend had exited to urinate and she could hear a repetitive banging on the car roof but she didn't think it was him."

"I guess she was wrong," Calleigh Duquesne, the day shift Assistant Supervisor, commented calmly in her soft, Southern tone as she stood with her hands on her hips assessing the scene.

"Dead wrong," Horatio remarked dryly as he stepped closer to the deceased Jesse King and glanced up at him calmly through tinted sunglasses.

"Wait, she said she heard banging on the roof and it was him?" Tim exclaimed in surprise as he stood up to stare over at Calleigh and Horatio.

"That's the idea," Horatiro retorted calmly, "but we'll have to find out if it really was what she heard."

"Light breeze last night," Calleigh murmured, "not really strong enough to swing a corpse."

"No, I mean, H," Tim protested, "Calleigh, doesn't this remind you guys of anything?"

"Not really Speed," Calleigh retorted with a mild look of confusion in her bright blue eyes.

"Urban legends," Speed explained dryly with a glimmer of dark amusement in his brown eyes, "come on; this one was old when I was at school. A guy and a girl are out in a car, then the car breaks down or they stop somewhere. The guy gets out to go look for help, warns the girl to lock the doors and says he'll knock so many times when he returns. She hears a noise on the roof all night and hides, then the next morning the police come and lead her out of the car telling her not to look back but she does and there's her boyfriend, hanging above the car and the sound was either his shoes or ring hitting the roof."

Horatio gave a slight frown as he contemplated the idea. "The difference in this scenario is that the police didn't arrive in time and Miss Greene didn't get to walk away."

"She did try to hide though," Alexx commented sympathetically, "under a blanket in the back seat, it just wasn't good enough to keep you safe poor thing."

"No sign of forced entry," Calleigh murmured.

"The 911 operator said the last thing Miss Greene screamed was 'they've got the keys', then the line went dead," Horatio explained, still calm.

"You unfortunate girl, you must have been so scared," Alexx soothed to the corpse, "and you too," she murmured as she looked up to Jesse King, "both so young."

"They took their time to hang Mr King but not the girl," Calleigh observed, "did they not realise she was there and got spooked? Saw her on the phone maybe?"

"There were several bangs on the car, Miss Greene called 911 because she heard something outside on the roof and didn't think it was her boyfriend," Horatio stated as he walked round the scene. "So either the killer hung around after hanging Mr. King and his body made the noise, or they made the noise, the question is why? And how long did it take Mr. King to die? Judging from the bruising on the back of his skull it's probable he didn't die on a noose."

"Well get him down and we can learn more," Alexx suggested. "Judging from the blood and the depth of the wound, it was the slash on the throat that killed this sweet girl, she was stabbed in the chest and stomach first, but she fought back, look at her hands, there's swelling on her knuckles and bruising on her knees, she fought for her life."

"But she didn't win," Horatio replied as he stared down at the scared looking girl. "Well we will need to inform the next of kin, and start working out why these two were up here, from when and who might have known about it and, most importantly, who and what killed them."

Tim moved around taking photos, to him this job was just a pay check; he did not share his team's enthusiasm for the work but, though he would never admit it, there was something interesting about a case that mirrored an urban legend, especially with Halloween just a few weeks around the corner. He paused and looked to Horatio curiously, wondering if he should voice his thoughts. "Halloween's coming up," he decided to risk it, "and this is like an urban legend, could there be a link?"

"Some sick killing for a holiday?" Alexx quipped in a disapproving manner.

"It's possible Speed," Horatio allowed, "but let's stick to what we know for now rather than speculate."

Tim nodded and the group continued with their work.

"This could be a hint," Alexx murmured, as she tugged out a playing card from between Amelia's thighs. It was the Ace of Spades.

"That can be a symbol of death to some people," Horatio commented quietly.

"A literal calling card?" Calleigh marvelled in disbelief. "It's a bit cliché."

"Still a clue," Horatio murmured.

By midday Tim had moved on to a different case with Eric, the teenagers' parents had shown up to the Miami-Dade Police Department to see their children, and an interesting call had trickled all the way down from New York City. If it hadn't come from a reliable source Horatio might have questioned it but after listening through it and realising he had little choice over the matter, he had given his consent for a detective to come down from the upstate city, though he had made his disapproval clear on the manner.

It was absurd and around this time of year for this type of case he knew the Miami-Dade team would only make jokes, how could they not? Detective Ridley Moon, he had been informed, was a detective who had been, as Detective Mac Taylor had described politely, 'shafted' with cases with occult, supernatural and somewhat bizarre appearances. It was not something she had held any interest in but rather people had found it amusing to pass the cases to her because she hailed from Sleepy Hollow of all places and her surname was 'Moon', it had just seemed too easy to mock her.

It had all been humorous until a rather strange serial killer had appeared in New York City; it had seemingly started when a teenage girl babysitting had phoned the police to complain about being terrorised by creepy phone calls. In the tradition of the urban legend the girl and her three young charges had all been found slaughtered, and the calls were traced to the house's phone. The killer had only left one clue, the Ace of Spades playing card.

Mac had explained that Detective Moon and her partner Detective Silver were assigned to the case. Relatives, friends and past convicts in the area were all suspected and interrogated but no one was ever convicted for the brutal killings though there was a conclusion that it had been the father. The three children had all had an insurance claim taken out of them just weeks prior to the killings but without any hard evidence it had all been circumstantial and the case against him had fallen apart.

Within two weeks of the babysitter murders another killing had occurred. This time it had involved a girl named Mary being found with a mirror smashed over her head, there had been three scratches on her right arm as well, and the same trademark playing card at the scene. Things had continued in this fashion for a couple of months, every two weeks there would be a death, sometimes the connection to an urban legend was vague or the legend was a local one not widely known across the country but the Ace of Spades had always been present. In the end, Detectives Moon and Silver had gotten close to unmasking the killer, or so they had believed, only for Detective Silver to pay with his life and the evidence to turn cold. Detective Silver had died in a bloody fashion, hacked to death, he had been found in his car but evidence had suggested he had died elsewhere and suffered greatly first. After that the strange killings in the city had stopped.

Mac had concluded his grim tale by informing Horatio that the information that the Ace of Spades was at the scene of every death had never been leaked to the public to prevent copycat killings and also because it was the only tangible evidence they had to link the cases as different weapons and methods of killing were involved in each case.

Mac had added that, despite failing to solve the case, Detective Moon remained the expert on the matter, he had then relayed the information that a higher power had suggested she was sent to Miami to investigate this latest event. It was in part to stop a repeat of the murders that had occurred in New York but also an attempt to move her on to a change of scene in the hopes of helping her. The case had become her obsession after her partner's murder and she had become withdrawn, cold even, and it was evident she did nothing but work on the case. It had made Horatio think she was better off the case but he had kept his opinion to himself.

The redhead had decided in the end that they could let her come down, if she was hostile and/or too obsessive she could be shunted to the sidelines or he could suggest her moving on, or perhaps taking leave. He might effectively be having her forced on him but he would still be in charge. Besides, if she did have experience with this it could be useful and he wasn't foolish enough to turn away help but he privately thought it was a bit of a stretch to imagine a serial killer coming from New York to Miami to reoffend. Yet, it was not beyond the realms of possibilities, serial killers always did reoffend, they couldn't resist it, and the cops had gotten close in New York, so the killer had to leave but for Miami? And could they really be good enough to evade the police for so long?