Tammy Owens peered over Billy's shoulder to look at his notebook. Morning sickness had caused her to miss her last forensic psychology class.

"Did you need to copy my notes?" Billy asked, pushing his notebook towards her.

"Please and thank you," Tammy whispered as she greedily took his work.

"No problem. I hope your baby's father knows how hard you're working right now," Billy said, adjusting his red glasses. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me who it is? Anyone I know?"

For the past two months, Billy had been asking for clues about Tammy's boyfriend. Tammy had kept mum. If she was being honest, she would have loved to share details but her boyfriend made her promise to keep their relationship a secret.

"Is he married?" Billy asked.

"No, he's not married."

"An illegal alien?"

"No."

"Ugly?"

"Of course not!" Tammy laughed.

"Then what's with all the secrecy?"

"Fine, I'll give you a hint. He's very...musical."

Billy rolled his eyes, "That's not a hint. Anyone and everyone can be musical these days."

"Not true. I'm not musical. I can't even whistle."

"True," Billy chuckled. "I just want a hint, Tammy."

Tammy playfully nudged her classmate. They weren't good friends but Billy was sweet and always willing to help her out. "Too bad because that's all I'm saying."

"Just as long as he's not some crazy serial killer," Billy muttered.

"I think I'd know if I was dating a murderer."

"That's what they all say," Billy said, "until they end up on some Lifetime show about not knowing how they were married to a serial killer."

"Don't worry. The man I love isn't a bad guy," Tammy said. "I trust him."

Billy didn't press the issue but it was hard to believe that a good man would want her to keep their relationship a secret.

Later that day, Billy was at his apartment with Derek, who was scrolling through a local events calendar on his phone.

"Have you ever heard of a band called The Booty Pirates?" Derek asked.

Billy laughed, "What did you say their name was?"

"The Booty Pirates. They're playing tonight at some club called The Pony House. Did you want to go?"

Billy nodded while texting someone on his phone.

"Who are you texting?" Derek asked.

Billy shrugged.

"Is it that creepy girl next door?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

"Yeah right," Derek muttered. "It's Thursday. I'm going to throw out the trash."

Derek was outside when he saw Dani. She had just finished tossing a bag of trash in the dumpster when she spotted him.

"What? No hello for your neighbor?" Derek taunted.

Dani refused to be baited, "Hello."

"Don't bother pretending to be nice. I know how you feel about me."

Dani didn't want to argue with her neighbor. She started to make her way back to the building when Derek called out her name.

"What do you want, Derek?"

"I meant what I said earlier, Dani."

"Said what?"

"Stay away from Billy."

She cursed under her breath, "He's my friend, Derek. Why does that bother you so much?"

"Your friend? You don't even know him," Derek said before getting quiet as another neighbor wearing a large pair of headphones came by to quickly toss his trash.

"You do know that the only reason Billy is nice to you is because he feels sorry for you, right? I'm just telling you so that you can back off and stop making an idiot out of yourself. He exchanged numbers with you because the landlord usually tells you first when pest control is coming. You really need to start making some real friends," Derek shook his head in disgust.

His words felt like an unexpected punch to the gut. She pressed her back against the giant blue bin and took a deep breath. Derek left without another word and as much as she wanted to brush off what he had just told her...he was right. She didn't know that much about Billy. They only saw one another in the halls or at the diner. It wasn't as if they hung out or anything. She just assumed that they were friends. If she was that attached to him and he just considered her a neighbor...what did that make her?

Pathetic.

Just like Carol had said. Her chest tightened and Dani sighed, wondering if deep in her heart she knew it was the truth. The thought haunted her until she finally fell asleep that night.

The heavy inhales of breath coming from his chest drowned out the wails of the sirens around him. He needed to catch his breath but something wouldn't let him stop. He reached out and felt the cold doorknob against his hot palm. He forced himself into the room and shivered as a gust of cool air swept across his sweaty body, chilling him to the bone. The window was open and flashes of red and blue lights danced around the darkened room. He took an unsteady step forward and his knees buckled beneath him.

Without thinking, his hand stretched out to the bleeding body in front of him.

"Jackson?"

"No, Momma. It's me. He's not here. Remember?" His voice trembled as he looked into her dull eyes.

"Jackson? I missed you. Why did you leave me all alone?"

"Momma?" the boy's voice cried, desperation strangling his throat. "I'm not Jackson. He's gone, remember?"

"Cold. It's so cold," the woman whispered as her eyes slowly closed. "Where's my music? Where's Jackson? He needs to play me my music! I have to find him."

"No! Momma, don't leave me!" the boy shook his mother and wept. "You're not alone, Momma. You have me! Remember? You have me. Don't you love me? Stay. Don't leave me!"

He struggled as unfamiliar hands grabbed him and started pulling him in different directions. He screamed out in pain until he was suddenly propelled into quiet darkness.

"Hello?"

He took a soundless step forward, "Hello? Is anyone here? I'm not afraid."

A single note from a piano filled the air, causing him to jump.

"Who's there?" he cried out. "Jackson is that you?"

More notes strung together played in answer to his question, confusing him.

Suddenly, a spotlight switched on to display a woman on the floor.

"Momma?" the boy asked.

He stretched out his hand and a knife suddenly appeared in his grasp. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt his pulse quicken and excitement tingle through his fingers. The music continued to play, luring him closer to the woman on the floor. The closer he got, the faster the music played. When he was close enough to look into her eyes, he frowned.

"You're not momma."

He could hear her whimpering and his small hand caressed her cheek, "Momma left me. She must not have loved me enough. She wouldn't give me her heart."

As the music began to play even faster, he licked his lips and lifted the knife. He wanted to do this. Needed to.

"If you won't give me your heart. I'll take it."

The woman's eyes widened and suddenly the music was replaced with the sound of a deathly shriek.

Dani shot up from her bed grabbing her throat while having a coughing fit. She ran to her kitchen to get some water when she noticed the open newspaper she had left on her kitchen counter.

The Maestro's Symphony of Death Continues.

"Well this sucks," Dani whispered.

The dream she had could have been a coincidence...but she didn't believe in coincidences. Not really. She thought of Detective Jax saying something similar to her that day. Perhaps someone had the nightmare after reading the article in the paper. She shoved the newspaper away and stared at her hands.

Dani knew that anyone that had touched her recently may have inadvertently passed her their nightmares. She touched people every day at the diner. Images of her customers ran through her mind. Customers trying to shake her hand, putting change in her hand, one customer even tried grabbing her leg. To her, physical contact was a curse.

Dani shook her head, "I couldn't have touched him. I'm wrong. I have to be. I haven't touched him. I haven't."

Despite her words, Dani was worried because if she was right, she had just seen the nightmare of the deadly serial killer known as the Maestro.