The photograph of the man in the park was grainy and his head was turned away from the camera, but still, they could figure out height, approximate weight, race and of course gender. It looked like a man in his 40's, around 175 lbs., mid-range brown hair and he was Caucasian.
So, they had that, plus the medical clinic connection. There were still a few loose ends to work out and they decided to divide and conquer.

Terry was going to go to the precinct to see if there was any information on the newest disappearance. Warren was going to trace all of the last steps of Ollessia's, check the drive through to see if there was any security footage to look through.

Terry was going to have to be careful. On leave she really didn't have access to any files. She waited until Seargeant Hayes left the building then she walked into the main office. She went directly to her desk and feigned looking for something in amongst her paperwork. The clicked into her computer and opened up the files, checking over all the intakes and reports of the day the jogger went missing. She found the files she needed, printed off the reports and with that was able to find where the physical file was located. This she took to the photocopier and made copies of everything inside. She had just slipped the file back inside the file cabinet when she could hear the booming voice of the sergeant coming into the room.

She had to be quick and slip the copies she had just made into her pack, before he found out what she had. Soon enough he came around the corner and saw her. Instantly his face went red and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"What the hell are you doing here, Smythe?!" The vein wiggling in his forehead. He genuinely hated her and he couldn't hide it.

"I left some personal belongings in my desk; I just came by to pick them up." Terry said calmly without breaking eye contact.

"What the fuck could be so important that couldn't wait?" He said while practically stomping towards her.

"Just this," She said evenly, "my garage door opener. Since I left, I have had to park in the driveway." She showed him. It was good she was quick minded and had pulled it out of her pack, just as the Sargeant came into the room.

"Two weeks and you couldn't park in the driveway? What's the matter the pretty car gonna get all wet?" He had assumed she drove what he estimated was a feminine car, whatever that was.
"Nope, can't fix the brakes in the driveway." She said back, knowing he would be shocked at her being able to fix her own car. She couldn't but he didn't need to know that.

That actually stumped him for a moment. His mouth was agape for a few seconds, the time he needed to regain his composure.

With that she grabbed her bag, her keys and her garage opener and headed outside. She never lost eye contact with him, in an alpha stare down. At the last moment he averted his eyes and shouted at another petty officer diverting his anger to another person.

As she walked out the door, from behind her, she heard "find out exactly what she was doing here. I don't buy any of her bullshit."

Warren, working his own tasks, was able to speak to a few people on Olissia's last day, but no one really remembered her. The fast-food restaurant was going to produce the surveillance tape within a few days, according to the pimple faced shift supervisor who relayed the boss's information via telephone.

Later that afternoon, Terry and Warren were back at Terry's house, pouring through the new missing person file. They took their own scene photographs and pieces of evidence and added it to the incomplete file that she was able to copy earlier that day.

Alexandria Zimmerman, 34, Single, no children. High School, PE teacher. Family all close and live in Bozman. Nothing unusual here. The evidence that Anderson took at the scene when it was fresh wasn't very helpful. With the exception of one person who gave a name a phone number, saying they had seen a girl matching the description of the missing jogger, earlier that same day on the path. No follow up of this person was in the file.

Terry grabbed her cell phone and made the call. "Mr. Benson? Clark Benson? This is Detective Smythe of the Bozeman PD. Can I ask you a couple of questions about the jogger you saw on the path last Tuesday?"

"I don't know what else to tell you, detective. She was jogging around the path I was walking with my dog. I noticed her because she was wearing all neon pink. That colour just stands out in a park, like a neon sign." Replied the elderly gentlemen on the other end.

"Mr. Benson, did you see anyone around her, or with her at any time that day?" She inquired.
"No, just her, jogging by herself. Sorry I can't be of more help detective."

"Just one last question, did you see any other joggers that day? Any men jogging on their own in the park?"

"Well yes, there was this one man jogging on his own. But he was running the opposite direction. So, he wasn't with her, that's for sure."

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"No not really, just average, I guess. Nothing really stood out for me to notice. Not like a pretty young jogger in hot pink would, ya know?"

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Benson. I may need to call you again. Have a good rest of your day." With that she hung up.

She was busy making notes in the file when a sudden noise jolted her from her seat.

Bang! Crash! Warrens chair went flying backwards to the floor when he stood upright quickly. One hand was on his forehead while the other one pointed towards the paperwork on the desk.

"Terry! Show me that Yvette Turners file! I think I got something!" He said excitedly.

The moment he opened up the file, he practically danced with excitement.

"I knew it! I got it!" he jumped up and down while shouting.

"Warren, Warren! Would you calm down and tell me what you found?"

"The names, the names are all the same. Look! Yvette Sasha Turner, Sandra Jean Jesperson, Olessia Ericson, Alexander 'Buddy' Stang and now Alexandria Newman. They are all variations of the name Alexander or Sandra! I looked up Sasha it's a Bulgarian form of Sandra. Sandra is short for Alexandra! You were right, they are all connected!"

"Holy shit" said Terry in a rare moment of profanity. "So, they are connected after all, but now what do we do with this information? We can't tell anyone at the precinct. And we need to figure out why this guy is targeting people with the same name, and how do they all connect? How would he know them all?" said Terry back to her professional voice.

Each answer seemed to bring more questions. There was always more work to do, but now she realized she couldn't continue on her own. It was time, she thought time to get the captain involved. It was obvious that Sargeant Hayes wasn't ever going to listen to her, and she needed more support than just her and Warren. Aside from that, Warrens leave was about to expire and he would have to return to San Jose soon anyway. It was a delicate thing, going above your direct supervisor, but she really felt like she had no choice.