Standard Disclaimer
By the way, please don't kill me. This is my
first real effort. Email responses would be
absolutely lovely.
by Jaelyn Wanderer
Ray Vecchio, or, as his birth certificate had
originally proclaimed him, Stanley Kowaski,
drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently. As
his ex-wife Stella had often informed him,
patience wasn't one of his virtues. Then again,
Stella seemed to have had a list of all the
virtues he lacked, and he'd long ago stopped
listening when she would recite them. His brain
usually tuned out about around the time she got
to slob, several items before impatience, so he
was still oblivious to this deficiency in himself.
He stood abruptly, sparing a second to run his
fingers through his short spiky hair before
wending his way through the police station. His
hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of his prey
calmly doing her nails at the computer desk.
Ray smoothly half-sat on the desk, a carefully
friendly smile pasted on his lips.
"Frannie?"
"Yeah, Ray?" The shade of red was perfect, and
she turned her attention to a second coat.
"Where the hell is my information on Alford!"
Ray demanded, leaning forward sharply, face
inches from hers. Frannie jumped and looked up
venomously.
"God, Ray! Will you just cool it?" She stood
and hurried back to her own desk, the polish
remover and cotton balls she hadn't thought
she'd need in her purse there.
Ray was right on her heels. "Well, you know I
would except that a murder case sort of rides on
finding out if this scum ball is in town."
"Look, Ray. I can't make the computer go any
faster or make a fax magically appear! Toccoa
said they would send the info when they got it.
So just stop breathing down my neck!"
By this time Frannie had applied the cotton ball
to her finger and was repairing the damage.
Grumbling under his breath about idiot fax
machines and nail polish wearing women named
Frannie, Ray stalked off.
Benton Fraser of the R.C.M.P entered the station
just in time to see Ray start shuffling papers
on his desk with what seemed to be excessive
violence and carelessness.
Fraser paused. "Francesca, do you know what is
wrong with Ray?"
"Oh, dropped on his head as a child, I think."
Frannie said loudly as she stood.
"Ha ha." Ray's voice snapped back.
"So, Frase," she continued without missing a
beat, "Ma was just saying the other day about
how much she missed you coming over. How about
you and I..."
"No no no Frannie, you see, while some people
around here are doing their nails and harassing
people, some of us are trying to do our jobs.
Understand?" Ray closed the distance between his
desk and the two quickly. "Go away," he added to
the annoyed Vecchio, just to make things
perfectly clear.
"Fine. Fine. I can tell when you are stuck in a
snit and..."
"Yeah, yeah, leave." Ray ignored the glare she
gave him as well as the smile she made sure to
give Fraser before she walked away.
"You know, Ray. Francesca does have a point. You
seem to be in a particularly bad mood," Fraser
commented. Ray took him by the elbow and quickly
led him out of the major bustle of the squad room.
"You don' understand. If Prudence finds out that
Alford might be involved in this, she is gonna,
well, she will be all..." he shook his head as
words momentarily failed him. "That is why I
need your help."
"Perhaps if you tell me who this Alford is and
who this Prudence is, I might be able to
contribute more," Fraser said, carefully
pointing out the obvious.
Ray stepped in front of the coffee machine and
dug in his jeans for some change.
"Alright there. You see, a few years back I was
visiting Toccoa, Georgia. I got these cousins
down there. It's a real hell hole, you wouldn't
believe it." He punched the button for coffee
and bent to retrieve it. "Thing is, the town's
not so big. But it's like this great stop off
place for drugs coming in from Florida. Gets
pretty hairy."
"I see," Fraser commented.
"Well, when I was there, here was this bunch of
murders. Real gruesome ones involving some
freaky mutilations. Hearts taken out, brains
fried. Nasty. The only suspect Sabe and I.."
"Sabe?"
"Sable. My cousin. She's a cop down there. We
came up with Lloyd Alford as the guy to grab.
When we got a warrant for the house we had tons
of fingerprints and stuff proving the victims
had been there, but he had already skipped town.
So we never got him."
Blue eyes widened in understanding. "The Brady
case."
"Right. Who ever killed Gina Brady has the same
MO as Alford. Right down to the missing hearts
and electrical burns on her temples."
Ray tossed the coffee cup into the trash after
only a few sips, eyes darting around in a manner
Fraser was tempted to call paranoid.
"Well, Ray, I can see where this might be
upsetting. If it truly is Alford, and he has
indeed returned to his heinous..."
Ray's eyes flickered. "Why do you do that to me?"
Fraser was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"Do that. You always do that. The...ahh, never
mind." Fraser's expression was blank, and Ray
sighed in exasperation before elaborating.
"Heinous?"
"Ahh. Right. It means hideous or awful."
"'kay."
Fraser found himself following Ray back into the
squad room. "I can see why you would be upset,"
he continued, "but your reaction seems a bit
extreme. Are you worried Alford is going to
target you next?"
Ray shook his head. "Alford is wacko, a sleeze
who deserves life. But he is smarter than to
mess with a cop. No. What scares me is..."
"Ray!" the voice was sharp, filled with
reproach as well as anger, and female.
Ray winced. "Prudence," he finished and smiled
sickly at the woman who had fixed her gaze on him.
"Prudence?" Fraser blinked, taking in the
uniformed police officer with her light brown
hair and pale skin.
"Sable's old roommate, now a cop. And a major
pain in the..."
"Love you too, Ray," the woman said sweetly,
still several feet away. In his years of
enforcing the law Fraser had gained a knack of
reading people. He had found that if one looked
deep enough, and had the sense to realize what
he was seeing, someone could tell a person's
whole world view from his or her eyes. Of
course, the details about appearance and manner
helped, but...
The woman before him was short, neat, and held a
humor about her. There was a calmness in her
expression, even though she was clearly not
pleased, and a look in her eyes as if she felt
everything in the world needed to be taken with
a measure of amusement, wry or otherwise.
She froze for a moment at the sight of Fraser,
his interrogative blue eyes sheathed in
politeness, meeting her hazel ones directly. The
curve of a smile on her lips didn't fade, but
she did inexplicably blush.
Then she shook the slight mezmoration off and
returned to Ray.
"You know about Gina Brady," she accused.
"Yeah. Uh, look Prudence, we got this thing
under control here and I'll let you know, okay?"
"No deal, Vecchio," she stressed the false last
name. "I am in this. Nothing is changing that
now."
Ray groaned and protested. "Pru, you are a beat
cop! A rookie that doesn't know the first thing
about..."
Prudence merely smiled and extended a hand to
the mildly intrigued Benton Fraser. "Prudence
Miloy, at your service."
"Benton Fraser of the R.C.M.P at yours, Ma'am."
Her smile turned into a grin.
"Is nobody listening to me?"
"Not really Ray." The grin turned wicked.
Ray groaned.
*****
"Is your dog always so friendly?" Prudence
managed, grinning widely at the half-wolf which
was doing his best to catch her scent and
express his general approval by licking her ears.
"He is a wolf actually and you may have to
forgive him Miss. Miloy, Diefenbaker sometimes
has the most deplorable manners. He is deaf so
he will have to be able to see your lips of
course but if you tell him to get off of you he
should obey," Fraser said matter-of-factly from
his seat. He glanced over to Ray. The sun
glasses hid his eyes, but Fraser could tell by
the set of his jaw and the way he was gripping
the wheel he was not pleased.
"Oh no," Prudence said quickly, "I used to have
a couple dogs and I loved them." She gently
reached around to scratch behind Diefenbaker's
ears, her expression warm. Then she did a double
take. "He reads lips?"
"Yeah, Pru, the wolf reads lips," Ray
interrupted curtly, "Now look. When we get to
Gina Brady's you just stay in the car, alright?
Fraser and I will take care of looking around."
"Because you have those eagle eyes that will
catch what my twenty-twenty vision might miss,
Ray?" The sarcasm was said lightly, her eyes
narrowed.
"Because I know what I am doing, that's why.
That last thing we need is you going in there
poking your nose in all the wrong things and
messing everything up."
"Ray," her tone was very calm and simple. "I
have graduated the Academy. In fact, I have been
a cop for two years now. I do know a little
about the job."
"She does have a point you know," Fraser said
and ignored the look Ray shot him. "Well, I mean
she is a police officer. She has some insight
into the case. I think Miss. Miloy could be a
help."
"Prudence," she corrected.
Fraser half-turned to look at her. "Benton."
Prudence smiled.
"Great. That is just great. Fine. You just stay
out of the way though and let us handle things."
As Ray pulled the car into the parking spot,
Prudence leaned forward from the back seat.
"As you wish, oh fearless leader." She murmured,
amused.
Fraser was a bit upset to notice that the
glares Ray was giving him had doubled in
intensity.
Gina Brady had lived alone in a small apartment
on the not-so-good but not-out-right-horrible
section in town. In fact, the neighborhood had
been rapidly become a favorite place for college
students out on their own to find apartments.
The building itself was five floors high, and
fairly well maintained. There was a sparse lawn
with only a little trash on it, and the inner
walls of the lobby had been painted within the
last ten years.
"Where did she live?" Prudence asked trailing
behind the other two.
"Second floor," Ray said, reading the
'out-of-order' sign on the elevator. He opened
the door to the stairwell and started up.
Fraser caught the door and looked at Prudence,
nodding toward the stairs. "After you."
Again, her smile widened, this time slightly
startled. "And they say chivalry is dead."
The mountie looked at Diefenbaker as he
followed. "Watch out for her," he said softly.
The wolf tilted his head curiously and made a
slight interrogative growl. "Well yes, I know.
But just in case. Now come on."
He continued up the stairs, then. Ray was busily
picking the lock on the door of apartment
thirteen and Prudence was watching curiously.
The door swung open and Ray cautiously entered,
eyes scanning.
"Not a bad place," he said, walking in. Fraser
had to agree. From what he could tell, it was
clean, if not spacious. The kitchen was open to
the living room and the bedroom, the master one
by the look of things, was directly off to the
right. A short hallway led to what could be
assumed to be a guest bedroom and a bathroom.
Fraser bent down by the couch, as if inspecting
it for anything suspicious. Ray instantly went
to the antique writing desk in the corner.
"Nothing much here but letters and bills," he
remarked over his shoulder. Silently, Prudence
walked through the open door of the master
bedroom, followed by the watchful wolf. "A few
from mom, bills from a furniture store..."
"For the couch?" Fraser rose to his feet
smoothly. "It does appear to be very new. If you
will notice Ray, so does the microwave and the
television."
"Yeah...and she is a college student. Third
year. Gotta wonder where she got the money for
it all." Ray put the bills down and walked the
perimeter of the room, curiously.
"There is no need to jump to conclusions, Ray.
Her parents might have..."
"No, no. They aren't that rich, you see. I
already talked to them a little bit, and she was
going to school all on scholarships. They were
scraping by to get her though. So she had to get
the money from elsewhere."
Fraser regarded the living room for a long
moment, trying to glean the personality of this
dead girl from her home. The walls were painted
a neutral off white. Standard apartment fare,
but they were covered with pictures of beautiful
places and reproductions of art. The couch was a
tasteful cream and hunter green, the television
placed on a oak entertainment center. Gina
appeared to have loved candles. There were
several of them all around the room, and they
were obviously well used. The room was very
clean, showing an appreciation for the quality
of things. And, she had apparently liked to
cook. Fruit scented the air from inside woven
baskets and there was a brand new food processor
on the counter.
"Hmmmm."
"So," Ray began opening drawers in the desk,
still searching. "Where does a college girl get
this kind of money? Drugs or something?"
"Possibly." Fraser didn't believe so, though.
Drug users did not usually show such care for
things. He started to head to the second
bedroom, but turned, able to see Prudence
through the master bedroom door.
It was the way she was standing perfectly still
that had caught Fraser's attention. She stood by
a dresser, its surface covered with makeup and
jewelry that just never had gotten put away. And
for once her face was completely sober. The
bright excitement which had been a part of her
demeanor since Fraser had first met her was
missing. His attention focused as he watched her
gingerly, almost reverently, pick up a mask from
the dresser. It was a porcelain representation
of a woman's face, with a small rose etched on
the cheek. "Then again," he continued, not
moving his gaze as he spoke, "from what you have
said about Alford drugs don't seem a part of his
normal mode of operation."
Ray walked past Fraser into the bedroom and
stopped. "Pru, put that down," he said quietly.
"It is her face," one finger trailed the edge of
it. "Gina's I mean. At Renaissance Festivals you
pay a huge amount but you can get a mask of your
face..."
"I know." He covered her hand with his own and
pushed it down to the dresser. "Put it down."
Prudence never moved her eyes until the mask was
set back down and the empty sockets in the
inanimate porcelain revealed only painted wood
again. Then she took a breath and pulled her
hand from Ray's, straightening. "The desk
calendar in here," she said, voice strained and
her lips twitched in an attempt at a smile to
lighten things. "wouldn't you know it? This
month is missing on it."
Ray and Fraser walked over to the desk, Ray
sparing a backward glance for Prudence. She
rolled her eyes at his concern and smirked. He
shook his head and turned his attention back to
the matter at hand.
"Looks like someone tore it off," Ray commented.
"Quickly too." Fraser briefly examined it.
"It is too early to be changing the month on
your calendar, and it looks like she was pretty
thorough about writing out her appointments. You
thinking what I am thinking, Fraser?"
"That Gina must have written down where she was
going the night she was murdered and that
information somehow incriminated the murderer
who then broke in here and stole the evidence?"
Ray gestured widely. "Boom! There you go. Come
on, Gina had a best friend named Tracy Watkins
who might know who she was supposed to meet. The
two were real close."
Fraser nodded and the two began to stride out
of the room, moving quickly on the trail. They
had made it almost the whole way to the
apartment door without realizing that Prudence
hadn't followed.
She had started to. In fact, Diefenbaker, a bit
edgy but feeling relieved that they were moving
again, had started out the door with her, right
after the men. But for some reason, she paused
and turned to the closet door. Head tilted and
eyes narrowed as if she was trying to catch an
elusive melody, she took a step toward it, and
then another quicker this time. Chewing her lip
thoughtfully she stood in front of it and
reached her hand to the knob. Diefenbaker's ears
twitched and he trotted back to the room to try
and hurry her along; the others were leaving. As
the knob on the closet door turned, he
stiffened, growling a low warning in his throat.
The door flew open, kicked from the inside.
Prudence cried out, the impact slamming her
against the wall. Diefenbaker barked and lunged
for the intruder, even as the man threw himself
through the window.
"Prudence!"
She groaned and pointed. "There!"
Fraser brushed by her, launching himself out the
window without a moment's hesitation. Ray darted
back out the door to try and head the chase off.
Fraser landed, legs flexing to take the impact,
and ran after the suspect. The ally way was
narrow and the stench of rotting things splashed
up as the tall blonde man heedlessly ran through
a puddle. Diefenbaker was almost on him, and as
he looked back over his shoulder, Fraser could
see the fear in his eyes.
More importantly, he could see the edge of
tattered paper peeking from the pocket of the
man's jeans.
Fraser ran faster. A frantic movement sent a
teetering garbage can into the path of the
chase, a desperate attempt. Diefenbaker was
caught too close to it to do anything but leap,
which he did easily, and Fraser simply swerved.
But the second gained was used to rush through a
door into the building on the right. Without
hesitation, Fraser followed after.
The four men convening in secret were not
exactly pleased by their guests. The suspect
raced past them into the dark interior of the
building too quickly for them to react or do
more than begin to draw their weapons. But, then
there was Fraser, unfortunately, on the
receiving end of those weapons.
"It is a set up!" A dark haired man with a bad
mustache
screamed, firing his gun at Fraser with reckless
enthusiasm.
The Mountie dove for the dubious cover of what
used to be the bar before the club went out of
business. Bullets whined and thudded into the
wood.
"Freeze! Chicago PD!" Ray yelled from the
doorway gun poised. He didn't even have the time
to mouth the obscenity he thought before he
threw himself to the side to avoid the bullets.
"Bigsby! Let's go! Come on!"
"Get to the car!"
The sound of retreating footsteps met Fraser's
ears, and he gathered himself to race after
them. Through the darkness of the building he
pursued them, Ray right behind him. They cleared
the front door just in time to see an
anonymously black car speed away. Unaimed
bullets fired awkwardly out the rear window.
Ray sidestepped toward the building for a bit of
cover, took aim, but growled and lowered the gun.
"I don't suppose the wolf followed the guy?" he
asked sharply.
A whine from behind them was the answer.
"Aw, great." He re-holstered his gun, frustrated.
"Look at it this way, Ray. We know that
something on that calendar was worth going back
for. This Tracy you were speaking of, did
she...?"
"Are you guys alright?" Prudence charged up to
them from the street, panting slightly, her gun
drawn.
Ray's eyes flickered as he turned to her. She
raised her chin in an instinctive defensive
move, tensing in expectation.
"Yeah, fine. You?" he asked.
"Fine." She blinked, startled.
He nodded curtly. "Yeah, okay then. You just be
more careful when you open closets, okay?" he
pointed at her. "You never know what might be
there."
She smiled slowly, relaxing. "And if I don't,
next time I'll find you there with a squirt gun,
right?"
Ray laughed briefly, taking a few steps down the
street towards where the car had disappeared.
"Me hanging out in closets? Naw. You must be
joking." He hesitated, unsure of what sounded
wrong with that statement, but pretty sure that
something about it hadn't sounded right.
"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say
that, Ray." Prudence said dryly. He frowned.
"Ray?" Fraser asked, "You were speaking of Tracy
Watkins?"
"Ahh, right. Come on," he jerked his head in the
direction of his car. "We can still probably get
a hold of her if we hurry."
Prudence was doing her best not to laugh.
*****
Tracy Watkins was a striking woman. Perhaps not
pretty, but there was an aura about her. Her
long dark hair waved to the middle of her back,
and her brown eyes were thickly lashed. Her nose
was a bit too large, and her mouth a bit too
thin, but in her manner there was a captivating
mixture of signals. A wall of capability and
harshness tightened her hands while shimmering
in the grief on her face was the promise of
vulnerability.
"Miss. Watkins, you were friends with the
deceased, Gina Brady, were you not?" Fraser
asked, hat in his hands. Miss Watkins had been
found leaving her last class of the day and they
had asked if she would answer a few questions
for them. The empty classroom was dead, but the
sounds of campus through the open window
provided a active backdrop.
Tracy nodded, a bare trace of movement. "Yes,
Gina and I were friends."
"Do you know if she was supposed to meet anyone
on the night she died?" Ray sat on a desk top,
feet resting on the seat.
"What do you mean? You mean like a boyfriend?"
She sounded confused.
"Possibly." Fraser encouraged.
"She didn't have a boyfriend. Not for a few
months or so anyway." Tracy thought a moment.
"She was going to come over to my apartment
later on and we were going to watch some
movies." A faint smile twisted her lips and she
glanced down. "Pixie sticks and Ben & Jerry's.
She had to meet with Professor Anderson first,
though."
"Professor Anderson? And he would teach what,
exactly?" Ray asked.
"He teaches the Psych courses, when he teaches
at all." She continued without having to be
coaxed. "Gina and I, and a few others at the
school, did some part time work for the
department. You know sort of as test subjects
for the grad students or the Professors working
on papers."
"Like, uh, guinea pigs or something?" Ray stared
at her.
Tracy shook her head. "No, it isn't like that at
all. They don't dare do anything harmful, it is
all safe and it is all legal. They pay great and
you had to do hardly anything. I mean, you
weren't assured of a job all the time. You might
get called on once in a month, or a bit more if
you were lucky and had a profile or something
they could really grab. That was why I was a bit
surprised when Dr. Anderson said he needed Gina
for another experiment that night. She had just
finished one up with them last week."
"I see. Do you know where Miss. Brady and Dr.
Anderson were supposed to meet?" Fraser's
expression was still neutral, but a certain
glimmer showed his interest.
"Usually the requests go out through student
employment and you have to pick up your card
from them. Then you just go to the lab you were
assigned to," she spoke slowly, "But, Dr.
Anderson sent one of his assistants to stop Gina
just as she was leaving campus. I guess he was
afraid that she would be gone before she could
get the request in the mail. Gina didn't mention
where they were supposed to meet. But I would
assume the lab."
"Did Gina happen to tell you who this assistant
was? Or what he looked like?" Ray's foot tapped
a staccato beat on the seat of the desk and he
leaned forward just a little bit.
"She said his name was Carl. But she didn't need
to tell me what he looked like. I was walking
with her when he came and pulled her aside to
talk to her. I don't know who he was, if that is
what you are asking. I haven't seen him on
campus before. He was taller than six feet,
maybe two or three inches above it. Blonde hair,
didn't really notice eye color..."
"Sounds like twinkle toes from the apartment."
Ray glanced at Fraser.
"Indeed it does." He stood and placed his hat
back on his head. "Thank you for your time, Miss
Watkins."
She nodded, hesitating as the three officers
stood and moved to the door. Before she could
think about it, the words tumbled from her lips.
"Don't...let him get away, okay?" her voice was
abrupt. She swallowed, the edge of anger openly
mingled with grief on her face. "Whoever did
this...don't let him get away and...make sure he
pays for it."
"We will. I promise."
The voice was calm and even. But from the
intensity buried in it, and the darkness that
had somehow attached itself to the words, Fraser
would have thought Ray was the one answering
that call for vengeance. But it was Prudence's
eyes that locked with the younger woman in a
strange sort of understanding and exchange. And
it was to her that Tracy nodded acknowledgement.
*****
"I do not like this." Ray asserted.
"It makes perfect sense, Ray. Lloyd Alford
arrives in
Chicago under the false name of Dr. Peter
Anderson and takes up a job with the college.
With this job he is able to find victims that
match his criteria, whatever that criteria may
be, and contact them with relative anonyminity.
I don't believe that he meant for anyone to be
around when Gina Brady was contacted. Now,
granted there are a few questions that remain
unanswered, like why Alford is killing these
people as well as the..."
"Not that Fraser," Ray interrupted sharply. "I
meant Prudence."
"Oh."
Ray released his rather tight grip on the
steering wheel of his car and sighed into the
thoughtful silence.
"I don't mean to be rude, but you seem to have
quite a problem with Prudence. I don't quite
understand why. Granted she is not a detective
and is relatively inexperienced, but she hasn't
gotten in the way of the investigation in any
way shape or form. In fact, if you recall, she
was the one who noticed the calendar page was
missing."
"I know that. I know that." Ray stared out to
Dr. Anderson's dark house. The stake-out had
been going on for a six hours now, ever since
they had talked to Anderson's secretary and
discovered that Anderson had planned to be out
of town until later on that evening. There was
another car stationed several hundred feet down
the road, and Ray was starting to get very
impatient. "Look, Pru is a good kid. And," he
shrugged to concede the point, "I think she's a
good cop too."
"Then I don't understand."
Ray glanced at Fraser, uncomfortable. "It is
just that, in Toccoa, when things went down with
Alford the first time..."
"Hey, I got the food. Hope you approve." The
door to the car opened and Prudence slipped
inside, handing several bags over the back seat.
"Subs?"
She grinned, her teeth a flash of white in the
darkness. "And chocolate covered cream filled
donuts, just in case."
Diefenbaker whined and nosed at the bag Prudence
held.
"Oh dear," Fraser muttered.
"Now, Dief, chocolate is not good for canines,"
Prudence chided. The wolf gave her a skeptical
look. "Yes, I know that seems a bit impossible
that chocolate could be bad, but..."
"Fraser, she is talking to the wolf."
"I noticed that."
"...it would be like pouring salt into an
engine, or allowing a painting to be ruined by
mold or something. You are entirely too
beautiful to allow sweets to ruin." Prudence
either didn't hear the men or ignored them.
Diefenbaker whined, and exhaled breath in a
sigh. Prudence smiled. "So..I got you these
instead. Hope you like."
Fraser didn't see what Prudence gave the wolf,
but the sound of contented chomping was rather
loud.
Fraser unwrapped his meal as Prudence leaned
forward.
"Nothing interesting happen while I was gone, I
take it?"
"Not a thing. Quiet as a mouse. Nothing," Ray
said with his mouth full.
"I don't like this."
"What's not to like? Anderson is Alford and he's
been grabbing students to kill. Simple as that."
Ray retorted.
"It is too easy. I will bet you a million
dollars that Alford has already skipped town. He
is too smart to come back to the house."
"Why shouldn't he return?" Fraser asked. "There
is no reason to believe that he knows we have
connected Anderson to the murders. His man got
away with the calendar page."
Prudence couldn't find any words to express what
she was thinking. "Canada is so close," she
muttered, "we should have alerted the boarder
guards or something. Then they could have
grabbed him."
"Prudence, he did not run to Canada," Ray
asserted, "He isn't that crazy. Besides, the
Canadians wouldn't have just picked up a guy on
a description and the little evidence we got."
"Actually, Ray, I would imagine..."
"What do you mean little evidence?" Prudence
spoke over Fraser, "Gina Brady is dead. Not
coming back, okay? And Tracy said Anderson was
the one who saw her last. We have plenty of
evidence."
"You cannot just pick someone up like that." Ray
stated, getting a bit angry.
"Of course you can!"
"You can't!"
"Look, Stanley, you can too! If I want to go and
arrest someone I can do that, that is what a
badge means! I can slip in and just pick..." her
voice trailed off, and the hand which had been
absently resting on Diefenbaker's side froze.
Ray was already speaking. "No, you can't! You
never got this, Dense, even back in Toccoa. You
can't just rush in, you get people killed! And
the DA just won't go when you have no evidence,
got it?"
Fraser saw Prudence stiffen as if she had been
slapped, breath caught sharply in her throat.
"Theresa has nothing to do with this," she said,
sudden warning and hardness in her voice.
"Doesn't she?" he snapped back then shut his
eyes briefly, wincing. "I mean, I didn't mean
that. I just mean that if you or anyone else..."
"No." She smiled tightly, shaking her head. "I
am not dense, despite that ugly nickname. And if
you had half a brain you would stop treating me
like a child or some sort of bomb waiting to
explode. I have spent years, Kowalski, learning
to be a cop and what to do and when to do it and
to learn how to deal with that bastard still on
the loose. I do not rush into situations
anymore, I've grown up. Unlike you. And unlike
you, I can see things that are right in front of
me. I know what to look for with Alford. And I
have the right to look for it! More than you,
more than anyone. And I won't let you shut me
out of it."
She ignored the way that Fraser was looking from
her to Ray and back again. She ignored the way
Ray was trying to find something to say. There
was nothing to say, and she didn't want to hear
it anyway. She threw open the door to the car
and left, slamming it shut.
The black trench coat, which Ray had rolled his
eyes at conspired with the shadows to take her
from sight quickly.
Ray let his head fall back against the head
rest. "Damn."
"Who was Theresa?" Fraser asked quietly.
"Her younger sister." Ray rubbed his temple.
"And Alford's
fourth victim."
"Oh."
"She...Prudence thought that it was her fault.
Sabe and I had been working on the case for a
while, Prudence sort of hanging along, helping
out a bit. She and Theresa looked a lot a like,
they were only a year and a half apart in age.
She was taken from outside a movie theater where
she and Prudence were supposed to meet."
Fraser was silent. Diefenbaker growled after a
moment, pacing the back seat. He had meant to
follow Theresa, to watch as he was told. But she
had shut the door and trapped him inside.
"Do you think she will be alright?" Ray asked,
then backtracked. "Uhh, walking home I mean."
"I am sure she will be fine." Fraser said,
"Walking home that is. It is a good
neighborhood, and there was a pay phone just
down the road for a taxi," he paused, noting
that the words had no reassuring effect and
letting them rest in the air for a minute
anyway, "Unless, you think that she might not be
okay emotionally, and that one of us should go
after her. As a friend." he added.
Ray smiled briefly. "Is that what you think?
That I meant should one of us should go make
sure she is okay?"
"I don't know, Ray. Is it?"
"...yeah. It is," he reached out for the handle
to the car door.
Just as a red car pulled up into Anderson's
driveway.
*****
Ray grabbed the radio, "This is it, get ready."
he told the others over the line. Without
further word he and Fraser exited the car,
Diefenbaker jumping out as they walked to the
driveway. In the dim light cast by the house's
porch bulbs, they saw a grey haired man exit
from the car and walk around to the passenger
side. He opened the door, and a young woman
stepped out. Ray's expression grew fierce.
"Freeze! Chicago PD!" he shouted, gun drawn.
Dr. Anderson looked up, startled, and the woman
he was with yelped and moved closer to him.
"On the ground, now!" Ray strode over to them.
"Now!"
"Peter!" the girl whimpered.
"It's okay, Lola! Look, I was just tutoring her
on Freud, I swear it!" Dr. Anderson babbled as
he got to his knees slowly.
"Now! Hands behind your back!" With swift
motions Ray cuffed the man. "Freud eh? Like how
you tutored Gina Brady?"
"I never tutored Miss. Brady!"
"Yeah right!" Ray dragged him to his feet. "And
like you never sent your assistant Carl to tell
Gina to meet you on the night she died!"
"My assistant's name is Joe!" the terrified man
yelped, "I have no idea what you are talking
about!"
"Shut up. You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can be used..."
Ray's words died as the light finally hit Dr.
Anderson full in the face.
"Against you in a court of law." Fraser
supplied. He was holding the girl away gently
but firmly as she cried.
"Who the hell are you?" Ray demanded, shaking
the man a little.
"Dr. Peter Anderson," the man supplied quickly,
"Look, I was at a convention in Toronto when
they said Miss. Brady died, I didn't do anything
I..."
Ray cursed and looked over to Fraser,
frustrated. With harsh motions he unlocked the
handcuffs. "It isn't him. He's not Alford."
*****
"Well that was just great." Ray muttered,
striding back to the car. The whole thing had
taken some time to sort out. The other police
had left, annoyed and grumbling about the
useless stakeout and Anderson had retreated
inside.
"At least he isn't going to press charges
against us for police harassment." Fraser offered.
"Yeah. Great. Damn it." Ray slid into his seat.
"We're back to square one."
"Not really. We do have a description of this
Carl. We know that he worked for Alford and if
we put out an APB on him."
Ray started the car and pulled away from the
curb. "We know what Carl looks like, " he
repeated slowly.
"Right. Miss. Watkins can give us a positive ID.
We should probably get her to a police sketch
artist." Fraser added.
"A positive ID. Because she saw him right
close." He looked at Fraser.
Fraser looked back, blue eyes widening. "That's
right. And Carl saw her too. And if he knows
that she can ID him, Alford knows that she can
ID him."
Ray reached for police radio. "Dispatch, I need
a telephone number for Tracy Watkins at 345
Peach Avenue, right away!" He turned the wheel
fiercely, headed for the apartment even as he
waited for the phone number.
"The number is 555-7383."
"Right, thanks."
"You think Alford will try to silence Miss.
Watkins?" Fraser asked as they sped.
"Yeah. He is a very tight guy." He dialed the
number on his cell phone quickly. "He wouldn't
let a loose end hang. She's all we got."
The phone rung and was picked up.
"Hello?"
"Tracy? This is detective Vecchio, look. You
need to listen very carefully, okay?"
"Alright. What is going on?"
"You need to stay in the apartment. Lock the
doors and the windows, and don't come out for
anybody. You might be in danger. Fraser and I
will be right over to take you to the police
station."
"I thought that a couple uniforms were going to
take me there?" She was confused.
"What?"
"I have been trying to get through to you for a
while now, but I guess you had the phone turned
off or Officer Miloy got the number wrong. She
called and told me to stay in the house until
two uniformed police came to my door. Then I was
to check out the badge numbers and go with them
to the station. I was also supposed to call you
and tell you that Carl had asked me to meet up
with Dr. Anderson this evening. Has something
gone wrong?"
"When did she tell you this?" Ray demanded.
"About twenty minutes ago. I was just walking
out the door to go meet with Dr. Anderson." She
waited for Detective Vecchio to say something,
anything, but he didn't. "Officer Miloy said she
would take care of things and tell Dr. Anderson
why I couldn't be there."
Ray stiffened. "Where? Tracy, where were you
going to meet
him?"
"Outside the library at school. But, I was
supposed to be there about ten minutes ago. I
don't know if Officer Miloy was able to get
there in time."
Ray hung up the phone and slammed on the
brakes, pulling the car into a tight turn.
"Ray?" Fraser asked, catching his breath and
very thankful for his seatbelt.
"Prudence. She went after Alford on her own."
*****
She pulled the trench coat a little closer as
she shut the door on the taxi cab and bolted for
the library on campus. She dared a look at her
watch. It was two minutes past the time Carl had
told Tracy to meet him in front of the library.
Prudence could only hope that Carl would wait a
few minutes, and that Tracy had gotten through
to Fraser and Ray.
All thoughts of vengeance aside, Prudence really
wanted Ray to be there backing her up when she
faced Alford. Fraser and the wolf would be
wonderful as well.
It was just, as they were fighting, it had
occurred to her that Alford had no need to
assume a false identity. He could just pick up
whatever girls he wanted by invoking someone
elses name. Borrowing authority, so to speak.
Just like a police officer used the authority of
their rank to pick up suspects. But she hadn't
been in the mood to defend the sudden insight to
Ray and, fired by anger as other irrational
emotions, she had left. Without thinking things
through. Well, now she was thinking. And she
hoped Ray showed up in time.
Enough. She pushed the fear down and sucked in a
breath at the sight of a dark car waiting by the
library steps. Wait. She ruthlessly pulled the
rubber band holding her hair back in its french
braid out and combed through the long dark hair,
fluffing it. She didn't think it would fool Carl
for long, but Tracy had long dark hair too, and
the moment's advantage might be useful.
As she approached the car, a tall man walked out
from the shadows. Blond hair caught the light
and in a glimpse she recognized him. It was the
man from the closet. It was Carl.
"Hey, I was afraid that you would have left,"
she said cheerfully as she quickly closed the
distance between herself and the car, her right
hand casually going underneath her coat to her
gun. "Carl, right?"
He paused, as if uncertain. Frowning and unsure
about who this woman before him was, he licked
his lips. Tracy or...? "Yeah. I am Carl. Tracy?"
Her grin was easy but tinged with sharpness as
she pulled her gun in one smooth motion.
"Chicago PD, put your hands where I can see them."
He stared at her.
"Now," her body calmly shifted into Weaver
stance, her readiness to fire apparent.
"You must forgive Carl. He never has been too
quick on the uptake." A apologetic voice spoke
from the darkness. Prudence stiffened. "But I
think you might be a little more adept about
realizing your situation. Put the gun down."
She turned slowly, bending to place the gun on
the ground as she did. "Lloyd Alford I presume?"
The drawn face of the elderly man broke into a
faint smile but the gun he held didn't falter.
"I would say you have me at an advantage, Miss.
But you don't. Not really. Carl." he nodded to
Prudence and Carl stepped forward with a pair of
hand cuffs. "I don't suppose Miss. Watkins is
around here anywhere?"
"Not a chance. She is at the precinct giving
them a description of wonder-boy there. And
back-up is on the way." She threw at him, still
smiling serenely.
"Then we should probably leave then." He met her
smile with equal serenity. "Pity. I thought
Chicago would last us longer. Well, at least we
should be able to have time enough for one
experiment before having to pack up and move on."
Prudence stifled a gasp as the handcuffs were
squeezed very tight. A wave of foreboding swept
her. "Experiments?"
"Oh, you are going to find out all about them.
In fact, if things go well, you will be the
conduit for a break through in our understanding
of existence. Carl, put her in the car."
"Watch the leg," she said sharply. Carl shoved
her in the vehicle and it pulled away from the
curb.
*****
Ray barely waited for the car to stop before
throwing it into park and turning off the
ignition. Wordlessly he and Fraser ran down the
short path that led to the library. Diefenbaker
raced ahead.
The front of the library was conspicuously
empty. Ray swore, jaw tightening.
"Fraser, where did they go?" he demanded.
Fraser was already kneeling to examine the
tracks. "It appears a newer model of
Ford...perhaps a 97 or a ...."
"Fraser!"
"There are no distinguishing marks on the tires,
Ray." Fraser said, voice getting a bit louder in
response. He was worried too. "No dripping
fluid, no scraping muffler. I could conceivable
follow this back to the main road, but once
there.." He glanced beyond the tire track for
just a moment, double checking that there was
nothing coming from what would have been the
rear of the car. "Wait."
"What?" Ray shifted his weight and took a single
half-aborted step forward.
"Cloth. Like something got caught in the car
door and got dragged on the ground as it moved
away." He knelt even closer and gingerly sniffed
at the earth.
"You see that? I don't see that..." Ray was
muttering.
"It's Prudence's trench coat." Fraser said with
abrupt certainty as he stood. "Diefenbaker?"
"Good. Good. Her trench coat." Ray nodded.
The wolf caught the scent Fraser was indicating
and whined low in his throat. "Follow this
scent, Dief, but wait until we get in the car so
we can follow you." Fraser instructed.
The Wolf patiently settled back on his haunches
to wait until the Mountie and Cop were in car.
"How did you know that?" Ray asked as they shut
the car doors and he started the ignition. Hazel
eyes focused on the wolf as he began to track
the scent down the road on to the main street.
"Know what?"
"That it was Prudence's trench coat? I mean.."
"Oh, that." Fraser shrugged. "It was obvious
from placement of the material at the back right
seat of the car, and there was the faintest
scent of rose, chocolate and the laundry
detergent most often used by dry cleaners. The
rose, obviously from the sachets she probably
has hanging in her closet, the chocolate from
the donuts of earlier and a trench coat like
hers can't be machine washed so it seemed a
logical conclusion."
Ray had been nodding absently as Fraser spoke.
"Back seat?" he interrupted. Fraser paused.
"Yes. Back seat. Indicating that there were two
other people in the car and judging from her
foot prints, she did not go into the car
completely willing."
"Great."
They both fell silent.
*****
"So you promised me an explanation?" Prudence
asked, chin raised a little as Carl tightened
the last fastener holding her wrist to the arm
of the chair. The fact that the chair was made
entirely out of stainless steel and had numerous
cords and other things attached to it from a
computer console was not reassuring. Neither
were the other strange and unidentifiable
instruments and equipment surrounding her. The
warehouse was filled with crates and boxes, but
Alford had carved out a space in the center of
it all for his strange contraption and computer
hook ups. A small room had also been put there,
looking as if it had been randomly dropped on
the site. Prudence hadn't seen the inside of it,
but she bet it had been an office of some sort
at some time.
The fear was boiling up in her gut, but sheer
will kept it down, channeled it through defiance.
Alford's fingers clicked on a keyboard as he
made adjustments to a control panel. "Have you
ever killed anyone, Officer?"
"Not yet," she said, managing to keep her voice
even.
He smiled.
"It is very simple. First off, the cutting out
of hearts is a ruse. A decoy so to speak. It
tends to make those of a judicial mind think of
cults instead of the pure pursuit of science.
You have to accept the principle that Death
releases a great deal of power--especially
violent death and the death of the young. Those
in their prime, so to speak. Now normally, that
power is untappable by conventional means. That
is what I have been working on. And..." He moved
to tamper with another connection. "that is what
you are going to help me with. You are young.
Your death will be sufficiently traumatic. And
this time, this time it will all work."
Prudence merely stared at Alford as Carl pulled
down a metal ring from the back side of the
chair. It encircled her head and grazed her
temples. Electrical burns on the temples... "You
killed my sister. Killed Gina for some hocus
pocus power that you haven't even gotten to work
or..?"
"It will work." Alford snapped. "It is just a
matter of time."
"And you'll what?" she demanded, eyes wide and
voice high pitched with the edge of hysteria and
skepticism. "Get all this power and what? Light
up a city or something? Take over the world?"
"Nothing so pedestrian, I assure you." Alford
walked over to her and smiled again, his voice
filled with pride and calmly matter of fact. So
neat. So clean. "Dimensional portals, dear.
Other worlds and other realms. If I can harness
the power of your death, with these new
configurations, I will have brought forth a new
era." He turned some dials on the chair and made
sure some lines were connected. Then he glanced
at her and caught her wide eyed stare. He gently
patted her cheek. "Just remember that television
show 'Sliders', Officer. A bit like that. I'll
worry about the rest."
"This isn't a television show, Alford," she
whispered fiercely, pronouncing each word sharply.
He shrugged and walked over to the computer
console again. "So much the better. That way the
heros don't have to win, now do they?"
"Well, no one ever said they had too, although
it does make for a better show, don't ya think?"
Prudence's breath was sharp, as if she had been
holding it and just now felt it was safe to
breath again. "About time!"
Ray shrugged, his glasses balanced precariously
on his nose as he kept his gun trained on Alford.
"If you will please step away from the console,
sir. I think you will find you are out
numbered." Fraser said politely. The unconscious
body of Carl a few feet away from him proved his
point, although Prudence had no idea how Fraser
had knocked the man out without her or Alford
noticing.
For a moment, Alford looked stunned. Then his
eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. I have my hand
on the button that will send a current more than
enough to kill her through the chair. You are
interfering with something you don't understand,
gentlemen. Put your gun down."
"I don't think so."
"Fine! Then you can shoot me. But either way,
she dies and I prove my point. I will be hailed
as a genius." Alford tensed the muscles in his
hand and started to push down.
"Wait!" Ray shouted, turning the gun away from
Alford. Raising his other hand in the air, he
slowly bent to put the gun down.
"Shoot him!" Prudence would have surged to her
feet, had she been able.
"Ray...he is going to kill her anyway." Fraser
said anxiously.
"I know that."
There was no warning. A tight grin twisted Ray's
lips and the gun swung around to the surge
protector through which all the electrical
chords were run. He fired, and the plastic
shattering seemed much louder than it actually
was.
"NO!" Alford screamed. Smoke poured from the
ruined device and the computer screens blanked
all in a row. Alford ran from the room. Fraser
was on his heels in an instant, and Ray was not
far behind. The warehouse and its labrythine
convolutions of boxes and packing crates took
the three from sight almost immediately.
Prudence pulled at the restraints holding her to
the chair frantically. She groaned and then
gritted her teeth. Fine. The tears that she
would have rather died than let Alford see
slipped from her eyes. Pulling didn't work? She
would pull harder! There wasn't much reason or
logic left, she wanted out and she wanted out
NOW.
*****
Lloyd Alford was not a stupid man, by any set of
the mind. By the same token, he wasn't exactly
brilliant. What he was, was stubborn and
obsessive. He would prove his theories to the
world and he would gain the acclaim he had been
seeking all his life. And an idiot in a red
suit, an imbecilic cop were not going to stop
him.
The two following him had the advantage of
youth. He had the advantage of knowing the
territory. The gun he had only used once before
in his life was fired into the darkness behind
him, hopefully enough to make them duck and
cover. The return fire came no where near him,
since he had immediately taken an unobtrusive
opening in the crates that would lead him back
towards that cleared center of the warehouse.
The chances that the Mountie or the Cop, in the
unlit tangle, could tell which way he went were
almost laughable.
He would prove his theories. He had too.
*****
A strangled gasp escaped her lips and she sagged
back. There was no way. She could have cut her
wrist to the bone and still not slid it out of
the restraints.
"Ray!" she shouted, beginning to panic. "Ray?
Fraser!"
A cold nose nudged her hand, and then licked
the blood and sweat from it as if to comfort.
"Dief!" a moment's elation, and then she shut
her eyes and half laughed, half sobbed. "Y-you
don't have any hands though.."
The wolf tilted his head to the side, as if this
abrupt subject change and obvious statement were
quite absurd of her. Fraser had told him to stay
by Prudence, and he was going to this time.
She opened one eye and just looked at him.
"Don't suppose you know where Carl put the key
to these? Dief?" She stared. "Dief, where are
you going? Don't leave. Stay, Dief..sta..."
It was almost impossible, but her eyes got
wider. Dief sauntered back to her and the keys
clanked as they were dropped into her hand.
"...my God..." she muttered. Diefenbaker sat
down and growled as if to hurry her up as she
tried to manipulate the key into the lock. But
of course the keys had been in Carl's pocket.
And they had half fallen out when Fraser knocked
him unconscious. Anyone could have seen that.
The woman shouldn't have been so surprised that
Diefenbaker had noticed. Diefenbaker's tongue
lolled out in a canine laugh at Prudence's awe.
"No." The words were hissed, and Prudence
whirled. Alford gripped the gun harder. "Get
back in that chair!"
"No," she retorted, half crouched.
"Do it!" he demanded again. Diefenbaker growled,
ears flattening. A sharp bark erupted from lips
curled over teeth. Fraser would hear it.
"The computer is ruined! You can't..."
"I can do it. There are back up protocols!"
She couldn't help it. Prudence laughed. Alford
was so desperate, like a child striving for a
toy denied.
Alford's eyes narrowed.
Ray inhaled slowly, rounding a tall packing
crate with his gun trained on Alford. "Drop it!"
he said firmly.
Alford shook his head. "Oh no. I'll shoot her,"
he grinned. "You know how it ends. There are no
secondary targets now, boy.
Back off."
"Didn't we just do this?" Prudence snapped,
swallowing.
"Yes we did," Fraser agreed, voice deliberate
as he stepped out directly to the left of
Alford, "Only last time, they weren't here."
Instinctively, Alford turned his head to the
empty space Fraser had nodded to.
And in that split second, everything happened.
Diefenbaker launched at Alford's arm, the one
with the weapon. Clothing ripped and Alford
stumbled backward, refusing to drop the gun at
first, then reflexively releasing it. Fraser
surged forward, but Prudence was already there.
As smoothly as if she had practiced it all her
life and as emotionlessly as if she were merely
going through the motions, she closed on Alford,
slammed her knee up into his groin and punched
him neatly in the face.
Alford fell, and Prudence followed him down
quickly. She grabbed the reeling man by the
collar and the sudden glint of silver marked the
start of time again.
"No." Ray said sharply, lowering his gun and
taking a few steps closer. "Pru, don't."
"My sister..." she said quietly, her flat
passionless tone giving her words an eerie
distance. It was like she was speaking of a
dream, as if she weren't holding the knife at
Alford's throat so tightly that the slightest
push would thrust it up and it. A child reciting
a rout formula. "My sister. She wasn't like me,
you know...she was practical. I would dream up
these schemes...we were always in some sort of
plot...but she was the one who made them work."
"He isn't worth it, Pru.." Ray's voice was
filled with warning and an undercurrent of fear
for her. "Listen to me."
"I told her everything, you know. And she would
listen with that serious grave look on her
face...I-I," she faltered for a moment, grief
catching up and tainting her voice. "I sit in
the dark sometimes...always have. Ever since I
was little. I used to be able to go to her when
things got too bad. W-when the world pressed in
to tight. She would listen with that look and
tell me about how life was going to be filled
with adventure and I was going to meet this
knight in shiny armor...How there was more to
things. And I wouldn't feel so alone. So lost
anymore." The words lingered ever so briefly,
leaving the air somehow fragile in their wake.
Then Life flared back, and fury slid into the
place of grief. Every muscle tensed with the
passion and Prudence thrust the knife up a
centimeter. "Do you know?" She grated, and blood
trickled from around the knife. "Do you KNOW how
many nights I have spent in darkness begging to
just hear her tell me it would be alright again?
Just once! Do you have ANY idea?"
"S-someone.." Alford barely whispered, pinned
beneath the sheer will of her eyes. "..don't let
her..."
Prudence's lips twisted and she pulled her arm
back and then struck in a flurry of motion. The
hilt of the knife thudded into Alford's temple
and he slid unconscious to the floor. She just
looked at him.
"No. You wouldn't would you?"
Prudence stood and walked away without another
word.
*****
Ray tore the sheet of paper from his note pad
and, scowling, crumpled it and threw it into the
trash can.
"What was that Ray? Yet another draft? That
makes your fifth one, right?" Frannie asked
innocently as she walked by. He threw a dirty
look after her.
"I hate writing reports. I hate it," he grumbled
and took up his pen again. He tapped the paper
with it for a moment, but didn't find the
necessary inspiration. Or the focus. Luckily,
Fraser's entrance gave him an easy out.
"Hey. What's going on?" he asked, standing and
meeting Fraser half way from the desk.
"Nothing much lately," Fraser said, "Doing
reports?"
"Yeah. You are sure there isn't some dire
situation out there that needs to be
investigated? Girl scouts get some cookies
stolen or anything?"
"No, not a thing, Ray," he looked over Ray's
head and smiled, "Prudence. Hello."
She smiled. "Hello Benton. Holla-hey Ray."
He twisted to watch her walk around to the two.
Somewhat to his surprise, he noted that she
wasn't in uniform. Well, she hadn't been the
night of the stake out either, but she had had
that huge trench coat on. For some reason, this
put Ray off a little. She also had a travel bag
with her.
"You headed somewhere?" Ray asked.
"New York, actually. My boss told me to take a
week off, so I figured that the Adirondacks are
as good a place to go as any. When I get back we
are going to...discuss...the status of my job,"
she breathed a laugh at Fraser's quizzical look,
"Meaning, am I fired or not."
"Nah. He won't fire you. He is just trying to
scare you most likely. You were just doing what
was necessary to bring the guy in." Ray argued.
Prudence gave him the official skeptical look.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Ray looked at Fraser expectantly and
Prudence turned her amused gaze on the Mountie
as well. Fraser looked from one to the other.
"Oh!" he said, catching on, "Yes. I mean, yeah."
Prudence laughed openly, and Ray smiled in
response. It as good to hear her laugh again.
The last few days had been unnaturally devoid of
that sound.
"That is what my report is going to say, at any
rate," he added.
"Thanks, Ray. But there is no need to perjure
yourself for me," she teased, "By the way, did
they get anything useful from Alford?"
"Basically, it amounts to a full confession,"
Fraser offered, "He was all too eager to talk
about his experiments and theories. I believe he
has an appointment to go into a psychiatric
evaluation."
Her eyes were darkened, but her expression was
very carefully neutral. "I see."
Ray shifted his weight and looked down.
"Uhh...Prudence, look. I'm sorry that I, um,
didn't exactly give you an easy time helping us
out here. You know, I just didn't want you to
get involved or hurt or..."
"I know," she said expression warm, "You were
just trying to help. You would have done the
same for any annoying kid sister, right?" She
grinned.
Ray looked up, a smile on his lips. He shrugged.
"Yeah, well."
"But you really need to remember something,
Ray," she chided softly, " I am not your kid
sister."
"I know," he shrugged and might have said more,
but she didn't let him. Hand reaching out to cup
the back of his neck and, if necessary to
prevent him from pulling away, she leaned
forward and kissed him. Perhaps, for a moment,
it might have been possible to write the gesture
off as a sisterly one. But she stopped smiling
and quickly made the nature of the thing
unmistakable.
Fraser tactfully glanced away.
"Good. That means you can be taught," she
disengaged herself easily and smiled sweetly at
Fraser, "I'm running late. Hope to see you
later, Fraser."
He nodded. "Enjoy your trip, Prudence. We will
look after things until you get back."
"Goodbye, Ray," she said, eyes glinting
mischief. She patted his cheek lightly as she
walked away.
He just stared at her, noting for perhaps the
first time that her well worn jeans were very
nicely fitted. And as she half turned at the
door way to let an officer through, he noticed
that the tee-shirt fit admirably too. And that
her hair looked very soft framing her face like
that, and her lips were full and shining with
just a hint of lip gloss and...
"Fraser."
"Yes, Ray?"
Prudence disappeared from view.
Ray shook himself, like a man trying to wake
from a dream or dispel an image.
"Nothing. Never mind. Not a thing. Just...forget
it."
"Understood."