Title: These Little Earthquakes	 Laura & Scott Normal Scott R and
Laura Lee Behunin 5 59 2000-03-02T20:59:00Z 2000-03-02T21:05:00Z 36 14418
82188 684 164 100932 9.2720	    Title: These Little Earthquakes
Series: Monarch Butterfly 2/3 Author: Laura Lee Email: vbrooks@if.rmci.net
or alaskanrose515@hotmail.com  Rating: PG-13 � DISCLAIMER: Alliance owns
the DS world and its characters. I borrowed a tiny little thing from
Remington Steele and the songs are copyrighted to their respective
companies. No copyright infringement intended to any of these companies.if
you want to come sue me, you can have my meager belongings..At least I had
fun while it lasted! � � � Ray felt strange as he left his body for one
that was not connected to his brain. He didn't even want to think about
anything as he leaned closer to Victoria Brooks. � She felt him moving
closer and closed her eyes. Her heart was racing and she knew this was
what she wanted.  � His body moved of its own will as his arm went around
her shoulder. His eyes closed as his faced neared hers. � She thought at
first that she only needed affection, but now she saw that it was Ray, he
was the one she needed it from. Fraser was ... � He could feel her breath
on his lips. It was warm and soft and just as he knew their lips would
touch, he felt the warm breath form the words. "I kissed Fraser."  � His
brain and body reconnected and he bolted back in the seat. He felt as if
he hadn't actually been there when the words were spoken, but his body
told his head what he had heard. "You kissed Fraser?!" � She saw the
horror on his face and it drew a single tear. "I needed you to know that,
Ray, before...before anything happened." � "Fraser? Our Fraser? Constable,
Mountie guy Fraser?" � "Ray?" � Ray stood in a trance and made his way for
the door. Tori followed. � "Ray? Ray? I'm sorry. Ray, please come back
here and talk to me." � He stepped through the doorway. "I can't talk to
you right now, I..." he looked confused, then hurried away. � Brooks knew
it wasn't worth following him. They would discuss it later. � *********
FIVE WEEKS LATER: � The season was warming as Victoria Brooks climbed off
of her black motorcycle and removed her helmet. She stood before a boxing
gym, a place she had been to every Monday and Friday for a month. The
owner, Jim, unlocked the door and greeted her while she removed her
jacket. � "Morning, Brooks," the owner said and looked at his watch. "I'm
sorry I'm a little late today." � "It's ok, Jim, so was I. Apparently, Ray
is too." She smiled and checked the street one more time. It was just then
that she saw the familiar black GTO round the corner. She stepped in and
hurried to the ladies locker room. � "Hey, Jim," Ray said as he hurried
inside, followed by Fraser and Diefenbaker. "I guess she beat me again,
eh? I see her bike out there." � "Yup," Jim replied. "She's getting ready.
You better..." � She stepped out of the locker room and grinned. "One of
these mornings, you're going to make it on time." � "It was my fault this
morning," Fraser cut in. "I was detained." � Brooks nodded and put out her
gloved hands to Fraser. "Can you tie me up?" � "You'd love that, wouldn't
you?" Ray snickered with a nefarious grin and hurried into the men's
locker room as Fraser tied her gloves for her. He emerged rather quickly
to find her climbing into the ring. He put out his hands for Fraser to tie
his gloves and then he had Fraser tie on his headgear. He watched her as
he approached the ring. She was warming up and he noted her punches were
strong and well controlled. He climbed in and they each took a stance. �
Fraser stood at the edge of the ring and Dief barked. Fraser nodded to
Diefenbaker, then looked back in. "Ready?" Ray braced himself and nodded.
Tori nodded too and Fraser waved his hand. � Ray swung as quickly as he
could, but once again Tori beat him to the first punch. She forced out his
breath with the punch and she smiled. 'Should be used to it by now,' she
thought. His punch barely hit her as she danced around him. He turned and
hit again, knocking her head to the side. They made eye contact and he
dared her to hit him again. She swung and he ducked. � Dief barked,
distracting Ray only momentarily, but long enough for Tori to position
herself. She shrugged her left shoulder, then punched him hard with her
right. He was watching the left and the punch took him by surprise. He
thought he'd seen most of her tricks, but this one was new. He knew that
if he watched the shoulder, he would see which shoulder was actually
carrying the punch and which punch was just a distraction. She'd faked him
out before so he'd learned to watch the shoulder, not the arm. Now she was
throwing trick shoulders, too. She had moved the distracting shoulder as
if it carried the punch and had distracted him from the pressure she built
up in her right.  � He felt oddly defensive and went after her with a
number of punches to the gut. He was showing such passion and sudden grace
that she was spending too much time blocking to return any punches. She
dodged and twisted, but he was on her everywhere. She was finally able to
half dodge right, then jump to the left and lose him. He straightened
slightly and blocked the incoming right punch, then swung his own right.
She shook her head, but didn't let it phase her. Now she was the one who
was angry. She blocked and punched several times before dancing away. �
Dief barked again. Fraser nodded. "It's supposed to be friendly, isn't
it?" he asked, but they didn't respond. � The fighting was starting to get
dirty. She danced around and punched his gut in a way that made him lose
his footing. He dropped to his knees, but was back up quickly to deliver a
punch to her side. � Fraser climbed into the ring. "Perhaps..." � Tori
took another swing that toppled Ray into Fraser. They both hit the ground.
Tori stepped up to them and put out her glove to Ray, waiting for his
response. Fraser scrambled to his feet, but Ray stayed. She stared into
his eyes, unrelenting. Ray had too many thoughts running through his mind
to make any sense of them. He lifted his hand and punched her glove. She
nodded and climbed out of the ring. Fraser stayed in the ring to help Ray
to his feet and untie his gloves and headgear. She saw Jim fixing a heavy
bag and went to ask him to remove her gloves. � He nodded and started
untying. "Something happen between you two?" � "No," she replied casually.
"Why?" � "I've been watching you two for weeks and I've never seen you
fight like real fighters. It's usually a bunch of taps for half an hour,
then you're off." � She shrugged. "Nothing different this morning. I'm off
to work." She took her things and hurried into the locker room. � She took
her time changing into her work clothes. She knew Ray. He'd hurry in,
change, and rush off to work, afraid of a confrontation with her. If she
could just stall long enough, she wouldn't have to see him. � But he
surprised her. She stepped out, gym bag slung over her arm, to see Fraser
standing like he was on duty at the Consulate. He was in front of the GTO.
Ray was standing next to her bike. She stopped in her tracks, but only a
moment. She brushed past him and dropped her bag on the seat of the bike.
She started to tie it down when Ray stepped toward her. "Just what were
you trying to do in there?" � She shrugged. "Win, I guess." � He stepped
closer. "It's never been about winning, has it? Did I miss something?" He
raised his voice a little as he spoke. � Fraser recognized the tone and
walked over. � Ray turned to him. "Fraze, I asked you to stay out of
this." � Fraser didn't budge. "Ray, you said you were just going to talk
to her." � "We are just talking," he confirmed. � "No, actually, you are
yelling. Add to that your stance..." � Tori raised her hand. "It's ok,
Constable. I think he knows better than to attack me." � Ray scoffed. "No
I don't. I'm stupid. I'm crazy. Ask Fraser." � "I know you, Ray, better
than you think." � "Do you?" he said and quickly jumped her, sending them
both to the ground. � Fraser jumped and grabbed Ray off of her. He was too
late, though. Both of them had already managed to get in a punch. As he
was moving away she saw her chance to get Ray again and kicked. Fraser
turned and stood between the two. � Ray and Tori glared at each other for
several seconds. Finally Fraser spoke again. "Ray, we have a meeting first
thing with Welsh, remember? I think it would be best for us to just go." �
Ray nodded and Fraser led him to the car. Ray sat in the driver's seat and
watched until Brooks pulled away. � ------- The way we fight The way I'm
left here silent Oh these little earthquakes Here we go again Oh these
little earthquakes Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces ------- � Ray
and Fraser arrived at the station a little too soon, for Fraser's taste.
He'd tried twice, in vain, to get Ray to talk to him while he sped and
dodged and pouted. For once, Fraser had to work hard at not letting Ray's
sour mood rub off on him. � Even Frannie saw that it wasn't a good morning
to speak to Ray so she looked past him and simply smiled at Fraser. Ray
continued to his desk, but Fraser stopped. � "Good morning, Francesca," he
said politely. � "Morning, Fraser," she returned with a little flirtation.
"What's wrong with Ray?" � Fraser thought a moment. "I don't think I
should say. He may not want to mention it." � Frannie looked a little
confused, but took his word for it. She didn't care that much anyway. She
was swamped with work and didn't have time for his troubles as well. �
Fraser watched her sit back at her desk and start clicking away. He
stepped over to Ray's desk, hat in hands. Ray was reading through the
paperwork on his desk that he'd left from the night before. Fraser could
see that he was tuning everything else out in order to place full
concentration on the file. After a few minutes, it became apparent to
Fraser that it wasn't actually deep concentration, it was a distraction.
He had stared at one spot on the page for five minutes. � "Ray?" Fraser
cut in, concerned. Ray didn't even flinch. "Ray... Ray... RAY... RAY!...
RAY!!" � Ray finally looked up. "Uh, yeah, uh," he stuttered. � "Ray,
weren't we going to handle that theft for Welsh?" � Ray finally returned
to reality with a head shake. "Uh, art theft. That's right. Not enough
murders in Chicago in the winter. Need to follow up on art theft." The
sarcasm seeped through. He shrugged and headed for Welsh's office. Fraser
followed. � Ray let himself into Welsh's office and Welsh did not look
pleased. "Can you hold?" he said quickly, nodded into the phone, pushed a
button, and hung up. � "Why am I following up on some stupid painting when
there are so many cases on my desk," Ray demanded immediately. � "Good to
see you, too, this morning, Detective." Welsh said impatiently and stood.
"The art belongs to a very prominent member of the community. They would
like it returned. It's valued at $700,000 and they fear we won't give
their case the proper attention." � Ray shrugged. "Why should we? It's
just a painting!" � Welsh growled. "What is your problem, Detective. I've
given you an assignment, just do it!"  � Ray saw there was no point in
arguing. Without another word he went to Frannie. "Fran? Got a job for
you." � She turned to him with a look of disgust. "Doesn't it look like I
have enough? Everyone is working me to death so they can go home early for
the weekend." � "I don't get weekends off, remember? C'mon. Just do this."
� She looked into his face. What she saw worried her. There was a hollowed
look about him. It reminded her of the how he looked every time he'd spent
a few minutes with Stella, but it wasn't the same. She sighed and decided
to do her part. "Ok, give it here." She held out her hand and he handed
her a folder. � "This is about an art theft. Welsh says there are a few
others. Can you try to find a connection?" � Frannie looked confused so he
continued. "This one was stolen from the Caldwell private collection..." �
"That's that really rich family, right?" she interrupted. � "Yeah," Ray
continued. "Well, apparently the other people are getting PI's to find
their paintings, but the Caldwells insist we do it." � "Where were the
other paintings stolen?" � "That's the fun part. You have to find out. Not
from around here. I just need you to find out everything you can for me.
Try to look up art thefts from the last year or so. See if there's a
connection. I'm going out to question the Caldwells. Call me." � She
sighed. "Ok. I'll do my best." � ------ � Ray was speeding again and
Fraser had enough of it. It wasn't his normal speeding, it was crazy.
Fraser was more than afraid and he couldn't take it. "Ray, stop the car."
� Ray glanced over. "No." � "Ray! I said stop the car." � He paused, then
realized just how insane he was. He slowed down and stopped swerving
through traffic. "Sorry Fraze." He sighed and Fraser eased his grip on the
dashboard. "Can I ask you something, Fraze?" � Fraser smiled a little.
This was a good sign. Ray was talking. He wasn't talking in a tone that
indicated it would relate to the case. "Sure, Ray." � "Did you kiss Tori?"
� Dead silence. Ray had his answer, but waited for Fraser's version of the
answer. He knew it would be vague and politically correct so he simply
sighed. � "I can't tell you that, Ray. It wouldn't be appropriate." � "She
already told me you did. Cut the 'kiss and tell' crap." � Fraser nodded.
"Understood." � "Did you crush her smokes?" � Fraser looked confused. "I
wasn't aware she smoked." � "I mean, did you do anything else?" � "What
did she tell you?" Fraser asked, a bit concerned that it had been more
than he wanted Ray to know. � Ray knew he wouldn't get any more out of
Fraser. He knew the only thing he would or could get was going to have to
come from Tori herself. He sighed. They were nearing the Caldwell
residence anyway so he continued in silence. � As he pulled into the drive
of the palatial estate, Ray suddenly felt very small. He stopped at the
gate where he was greeted by a camera and intercom. A computerized voice
requested he show his identification into the camera, which he did.
Apparently the action activated the gate which now opened slowly. � Ray
drove up the long drive paved in cobblestone before turning to Fraser.
"Y'know, there is such a thing as too much money, eh, Fraser?" � Fraser
sat quiet a moment. He'd never really thought about it. He had the money
he had, other people had the money they had. He realized then that it
hadn't made much difference to him either way. "I don't know," he replied.
� Ray shook his head. "Shake, Rattle, and Roll," he said simply, grabbing
his notebook from between them on the seat and getting out of the car. � A
butler was standing at the door, waiting to escort them inside before they
got to the front step. Ray took a deep breath and walked up the steps next
to Fraser. The butler asked them to wait in the front hall while he went
to get "the lady of the house." Ray simply rolled his eyes and looked
around. � The grand foyer was massive. It brought colours from the
surrounding rooms into one sculpted display. There was an oak table with a
fresh flower arrangement to guide attention to a grand staircase with
velvet decoration and rich carpeting. To the right was the opening to an
old style parlor with velvet curtains and tassels like Ray had never seen.
To the left was a library with oak furnishings visible through the doorway
and book cases that went to the ceiling. � He turned to Fraser. "It looks
like an issue of Architectural Digest threw up in here." � Fraser was
still trying to understand what Ray meant when a woman in a soft rayon
dress stepped out from the hallway under the staircase. It was immediately
apparent to Ray that she had been sculpted more than once by a plastic
surgeon, but she had a kind face. She stood before them with a flourish
and smiled. "I see promptness leaves little to be desired. I hope this
isn't a reflection on how you'll handle this case." She turned on her
heel. "This way please." � Ray noticed quickly that she didn't even bother
to exchange names. Of course he would know her name. As far as she was
concerned, his name was inconsequential. � Fraser and Ray followed the
woman into the parlor. Everything was perfect and pristine. Gold picture
frames, fabrics with gold threads. It looked as though it hadn't been
touched except for dusting since the decorator had finished. Ray was
looking around as she led them through the room into another room which
was equally as pristine and perfect except for one thing. On one wall
between two tall plants was nothing but a nail. The walls hadn't faded or
dirtied around where the picture had been, Ray noted, but it was the only
bare spot in the room. � "A group of officers has already been by to
collect evidence," she said softly as Ray looked closely at the wall and
surrounding areas. � He looked up. "Oh, I know. I was just..." He smiled
and flipped open the notebook. "I have the report, but I needed to ask you
if you remembered anything else since the cops were here before." � "No. I
wasn't even here that evening. My husband and I were out of town. The help
was off for the evening. Did you want to interview them again?" � Another
plastered smile from Ray. "No. What I'm really wondering is if you know
who might've wanted to steal it." � She furrowed her brow. "A lot of
people, I suppose," she replied arrogantly. "It was a very expensive
painting." � Fraser stepped forward. "Ma'am? I'm Constable Fraser of the
Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I originally came to Chicago..." � "Not
now, Fraze." � Fraser nodded once. "Understood. I understand the painting
was a Waterhouse?" � She nodded and smiled. "Yes, it is a John
Waterhouse." � "I'm curious as to why you had a Waterhouse?" he said
bluntly. � "Pardon me?" she replied with true confusion. � "All the
paintings I have seen in this house are Impressionist. Granted I haven't
seen the entire house, but a Pre-Raphaelite artist would be out of place
in a home with so many Impressionists, it would seem." � She nodded, now
understanding. "My husband allows me free and complete control over
decorating of our home. A little over a year ago, however, he asked that I
allow him to buy a painting -- the Waterhouse. I reluctantly agreed. You
see, he is an investor. Anywhere he wants to invest money, I agree. He has
done such a wonderful job so far, who am I to argue?" She smiled at her
comment. "Personally, I'm in love with the Impressionists. The Waterhouse
ended up in this room because it was the only room in which it did not
clash with the dcor." � Fraser nodded. Ray looked to him to see if he had
completed that train of thought. Fraser hadn't. "Do you know why he wanted
it?" � She thought for a moment. "No. He never said, specifically. He only
said that it would be a good investment." � "May we speak with your
husband?" � She shook her head. "He's away on business. He should return
by Monday." � Ray's phone rang. He answered it and turned away from the
conversation. � "Thank you, kindly," Fraser said. � "Is that everything?"
� Fraser nodded, but when Ray heard that question, he asked Francesca to
wait. He produced a card and handed it to her. "If you think of anything
else, call me at this number." � She smiled. "I will." � Ray continued to
talk on the phone as they walked out of the house. � Mrs. Caldwell was
about to close the door behind them when Ray stopped and hung up the
phone. He turned back to her. "Why didn't you hire a private
investigator?" He saw that she was confused by the question. "Some other
paintings have been stolen. We think there could be a connection. The
others hired PI's. Why didn't you? I mean, it certainly isn't 'cause you
don't have the money, huh?" he chuckled, then shrugged when he realized
his tacky comment by the look she gave him. � "My husband said it would be
better for us to allow the police to handle it." � "Hmm." Fraser made the
noise, then saw that Ray and Mrs. Caldwell were looking at him. He shook
his head. "It's nothing." He continued down the steps to the car. �
--------- � Ray couldn't help thinking, as he neared the station, how a
sanctuary from downtown Chicago might not be as bad as all that. He looked
around at the homeless people, the gangs, the criminals that were
sometimes just too hard to catch. He'd gotten used to not noticing, but
after returning from the pristine palace of the Caldwell's, he was a
little less numb. � He was looking straight ahead, trying to tune out the
pain and anger when Fraser stiffened.  � "Stop the car, Ray." � "I wasn't
speeding." � "Assault, Ray. Stop the car." � Ray screeched to a halt and
was able to get partially off the street by pulling up to a hydrant. He'd
only caught a glimpse of the scuffle, but he could see it was going to end
in murder if they didn't interfere. � Before he was stopped, Fraser rolled
out of the car and ran toward the trouble. Ray jumped out and heard Fraser
holler. "I'll get the other man!" � Ray saw then that one of the men was
running toward him, being chased, and that the victim of the assault was
farther down the sidewalk. He ran into the first man and knocked him to
the ground. Ray cuffed him quickly then jumped to a standing position. His
look of satisfaction resembled that of a cowboy who had just tied a hog in
3 seconds. He turned to look the way Fraser had run and instead got a fist
in his eye. He fell backward and hit the cement hard enough to blur his
vision for an instant. He blinked and looked at the source of the fist. �
"Tori?" � "You idiot! What in the hell do you think you're doing?" � He
scrambled to his feet. "This guy was beating up that guy," he pointed down
the street. "Looked to me like he was gonna kill him." � "He was and I was
about to bust him for it until you screeched to a halt! Could you have
possibly brought more attention to yourself?" She picked the guy up. � Ray
tugged the other guy's arm. He was angry now and wanted her to pay. "He's
mine." � "Yours? I don't think so! I've been trailing him for days! I've
got all the evidence!" � Fraser came up behind them. The other man had
gotten away, disappeared down an alley and Fraser had been unable to tell
which way he went. He saw that it was Tori who had been running after the
man who was now being frustrated by the tug of war going on. Fraser
reached out and grabbed the man from both of them. Tori was reluctant to
let go, but she did. Ray didn't. � "Perhaps the best course of action
would be to straighten this out at the police station." � Tori nodded.
"But he's my guy so he's going to my precinct." � Ray laughed. "It's my
arrest." � They stared each other down until Fraser spoke up again.
"Technically it is Ray's arrest so he should be the one to take him in."
He looked apologetically to Brooks. � Tori folded her arms and took them
both in. 'What a sight,' she thought. 'Two grown men playing cops while I
work my ass off being one.' She glared before nodding an agreement. "I was
off duty anyway. Left my bike 'round the corner. I'll be waiting for you
at your precinct." She turned and ran down the street. � "Not if I have my
way," Ray remarked softly under his breath when she left. He took the guy
again and shoved him quickly into the car while Fraser climbed in front.
Fraser grabbed the dashboard when Ray jolted the car as quickly as it
would go. � Ray was honestly disappointed when he pulled into the parking
lot of the station and saw Tori's motorcycle pulled into a spot. He looked
around and saw that she was waiting at the entrance with a smile. � Inside
she was the subject of many warm greetings. She nodded and accepted them
graciously, but insisted on staying ahead of Ray, Fraser, and the man in
handcuffs. � Ray and Brooks asked Fraser to take the man into the
interrogation room and wait while they went to talk to Welsh. A quick
walking race later, Brooks was first in Welsh's office without even a
knock. � Welsh looked up and smiled slightly when he saw the familiar
face. "Detective Brooks! What a surprise. What brings you here?" � Ray and
Brooks spilled out their stories at the same time. The entire time, Welsh
tried to calm them. � "He arrested my guy..." � "...so she decked me!..."
� "...and do you know what he had the nerve..." � "...just pointed out
that I made the arrest..." � "...of course, he's got that stupid personal
doorman on his side..." � "...don't go attacking Fraze!" � "WHOA!" Welsh
finally yelled. His face was red now and he was standing. Ray knew what
that meant. Real trouble. He clamped his jaw shut. � Brooks saw the
opportunity and seized it. "I've been trailing this guy for quite a while
and I was about to get some really good information when this..." �
Welsh's face began to turn a dark shade of purple. "Shut up." � Brooks
glared at him. "I'm only telling you what your incompetent..." � He gave
her a look that finally managed to close her mouth. � "Where's Fraser?" �
"In room one with the guy I busted," Ray replied. � "You busted? It's
my..." Brooks stopped short at the tight-lipped look from Welsh. "Look,
you can't intimidate me, Welsh. You're not my boss anymore." � Welsh was
almost on fire now. "Maybe not, but I am your superior! If you want this
resolved and you want me to listen to your side of the story, you'll shut
up now!" � Brooks felt angry and as though she had just been told she was
grounded. She felt hot and knew that her face was turning red. She gave in
and folded her arms, glaring at Welsh. She knew he was right. He was her
superior and she didn't need to make waves with him just because she was
upset with Ray. � "Ray, what's your side." Welsh intentionally gave him
the first chance to speak to show Brooks who was boss. � She listened
without interrupting as he told his story. It was basically the truth so
she couldn't really argue, but when it was her turn, she made sure Welsh
saw that it was her case. � "I've been trailing this guy and I was
watching him carefully. He wasn't going to kill my guy. The guy was
undercover. Knew what he was doing. Ray is making a lot of assumptions. I
was about to bust him myself on much bigger charges than assault." �
"Like?" Welsh asked. � "Murder, money laundering, conspiracy to commit
fraud, for starters." � "He did all that?" Ray asked, astounded since the
man seemed like an idiot. � "Well, yes. And we just got the name of his
partner in that little operation." She turned back to Welsh. "So, you see,
it's mine." � Welsh nodded. "Probably, but I'm going to let the Assistant
States Attorney set you two straight. I'm staying out of this one." He
picked up the phone. � Brooks was about to protest, but Welsh stopped her.
"Go into the interrogation room and see how things are with Fraser. He's
probably got the guy to confess by now." � On the contrary. When Ray
opened the door and Brooks stepped inside, they saw Fraser simply watching
the man. He had no idea what was going on so he didn't even know where to
start the questions. He'd gotten the man's name, but that was about it. �
Ray pulled up a chair and sat, but didn't say a word. Brooks did the same.
They stared each other down for several minutes before Fraser spoke. �
"Are we waiting for something?" � Ray turned to him. "Yeah, Welsh's
calling the Assistant States Attorney." � "You mean Stella?" Fraser
clarified. � Ray nodded. "Unfortunately." � Fraser wanted to smile. He
wanted so much to let the feeling show. He was thoroughly amused. � Ray
was tired. "Look. Just make it easy on yourself and tell us everything,"
he said to the man. � Brooks leaned back in her seat. "You know, you're
being charged with conspiracy to commit fraud, murder, money laundering,
assault. If you don't want to go to the chair, you better start talking."
� "It doesn't matter if I did all those things anyway," he said. "Even if
I confessed." � "Are you confessing?" she urged. � "Ok, yeah. I did it. I
did it all." � Ray was astounded. "How'd you do that?" he asked Brooks. �
She shrugged.  � Just then, Stella walked through the door of the
interrogation room. She saw the people before her. � Ray stood when he saw
her. He stepped back and offered her his seat. � "That won't be
necessary," she replied. "Welsh filled me in, but I want to make sure why
I'm here." She turned to Ray. "You arrested him because you saw him
beating up a man on the street." She then turned to Tori. "You were about
to arrest him because you have evidence linking him to a bunch of crimes."
� They nodded. She sighed and continued to hold her briefcase. "You'll
have to talk to me like a child and explain exactly why Welsh called me,
then. I don't understand why you," she glared at Ray, "don't just give her
the arrest." She motioned to Tori. � Ray was about to answer when the man
interrupted. "They didn't read me my rights. The way I see it, I'm off the
hook altogether." � Stella lifted her head after hearing the man and
looked back and forth from Ray to Brooks. They just looked at each other.
� "Well?" � Brooks folded her arms. "Yeah, well? Did you recite them?" �
Ray closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his head. � Brooks snapped
her fingers. "Hey, hey. I'm not going to disappear if you close your eyes
and wish." � Ray opened his eyes, the realization hitting him. "You hit me
before I had the chance." � Brooks threw her hands in the air. "What?
Don't blame me! You're the one who made the arrest!" � "Well, it was your
arrest. You wanted it so bad, you shoulda done it!" � Stella interrupted.
"Ray? Better take the cuffs off." She looked at Fraser who looked as
though he was about ready to give up. He nodded and put out his hand as
Ray dropped the keys. As Fraser was taking off the cuffs, Stella left
without another word. � Brooks and Ray kept at it until Fraser let the man
out. Then he closed the door and turned back to them. � "This has to
stop," Fraser broke in firmly. "Ray, I want you to sit here." He walked
around and pulled out a chair, then went to the other side of the table
and pulled out the other chair. "Tori, you will sit here." He set his hat
on the table. Ray and Brooks were quiet now, but they didn't move. � "I am
not very good at arguments," Fraser continued. "I ask that you please
cooperate." He stood firmly. Finally the two made their ways to the seats
Fraser had assigned them. � Fraser waited a moment. They were starting yet
another staring contest so he broke in again. "Look at me." They both
looked up. "Now talk. No yelling, no fighting. Talk." They stared at him
as if he'd spoken gibberish. "Talk!" he demanded. They still sat silent so
he left the room. � Fraser took a seat just outside of the squad room
doors. He was feeling very strange. He'd never had to do anything like
that before. It made a part of him actually hurt. � In the interrogation
room, however, things were different. Ray and Tori stared at each other a
long time before a word was spoken, but at least it wasn't a contest. �
"Why don't you start the conversation?" Tori said in a soft tone. � "Dunno
know what to say." � They were quiet again. "I guess we should start at
the beginning, then," she said. "I'm sorry I got so upset about the
arrest. I guess we could have worked it out." � Ray cleared his throat. "I
don't think that's the beginning." � She thought a moment. "Oh, well, I
guess I got a little carried away in the boxing ring..." � Ray tilted his
head. "That's not it, either." � "Oh." She waited a moment. "Are you ready
to talk about that?" � Ray shrugged. � "Well, you know, Ray, you walked
out that night." � Ray shrugged again. "I was confused. Can't blame me for
that. What I really need to know is did it mean anything?" � "I tried to
talk to you about it and you shut me out." She waited a moment, then
emphasized. "You shut me out, Ray. There's nothing I'd like more than to
move past that." � "Guess it doesn't matter anyway." � "What do you mean?"
� "We got carried away. I wouldn't've come up to your place if I'd been
thinking." � She was stunned. "Why not?" � "I'm in love with Stella.
Everybody knows that. We might not be married, but I still love 'er. Can't
deny that." � Brooks stood with a scoff. "That's great, Ray. You just keep
telling yourself that." She placed her hands on the desk and leaned over
him. "Better keep reminding yourself that you don't have to care 'bout
anyone else because you're still in lust with Stella." She paused and
waited for his reaction to her planted word. He looked up. "Oops. Did I
say lust? Of course what I meant was love." She walked out, closing the
door to separate them. When she looked up she saw that Fraser had come
down the hall. � He stood before her with a hopeful look on his face. She
said nothing, but shot him a glance that stopped him from saying anything
before she walked away. He knew it that instant that nothing had been
resolved. He felt sudden disappointment mixed with hurt. Fraser ran his
thumbnail along his eyebrow and walked into the room where he saw Ray
still sitting at the table. He stood when he saw Fraser. � "I need to talk
to Frannie 'bout the paintings," Ray said simply. � -------- It's better
this way I say.  Having seen this place before	Where everything we say
and do hurts us all even more...  ...I'm pulled down by the undertow. 
Never thought I could feel so low.  Oh and darkness, I feel like letting
go.  If all of the strength and all of the courage  Come and lift me from
this place  I know I can love you much better than this. Full of Grace. 
--------- � When Ray tried to sleep that night, he found there were too
many things on his mind to relax. Not only did he have the usual thoughts
of a case running through his head, he also couldn't avoid thinking about
Tori. He thought about what she'd said, how she'd looked, her smile. He
didn't particularly like it when she was angry or when she was right, but
the thought crossed his mind that it was worth it when she smiled or
tossed her hair. It was worth it when she spoke directly to him and made
him feel alive. Even when she was angry, he felt her anger. He'd tell his
mind that she didn't matter. He'd convince himself of it. Then when he'd
try to think of clues in the case, his mind would wander. � After an hour
he gave up and went to his stereo. He played any song he could think of
that fit his mood. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch. � When he woke
the next morning, he found the problem with falling asleep on a couch that
is too short. His knees were stiff, his back ached, and he couldn't move
his neck. � "Great," he mumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen. He opened
a packet of instant coffee and shook it into a mug. Then he followed the
normal routine; hot tap water and candy to sweeten it. He grabbed the pen
he'd left on the counter and stirred. He popped two aspirin in his mouth
and swallowed the coffee in one drink. � When he met Fraser, he was trying
to be positive, trying not to think of....He buried his nose in the work
to avoid being left alone with his thoughts. � Frannie had only been able
to give him a printout of the names of the paintings that had been stolen.
The only connection he could see was that they were all by John Waterhouse
and had all been a part of private collections. That made sense, Fraser
had pointed out, because it is easier to steal from a private estate than
from a well guarded museum or gallery. � In order to learn as much as they
could, the visited museums and asked questions. One proved most
interesting. � "Hello," said the woman at the entrance. "My name is Gwen.
Can I help you?" � "Yeah," Ray replied. "We need to know about art." � She
smiled. "That is a tall order for one day." � Ray showed his badge. "It's
for a case I'm working on. Do you know much about John Waterhouse?" � She
nodded. "Is there something in particular you need to know?" she asked as
she started walking them around the gallery. � "Well, I was wondering if
you could share the value of his paintings." � "It truly depends on which
one," she replied. � Ray was glad he had finally found someone who was
willing to share information. "What do you mean?" � Gwen sighed. "Let me
show you." She led them into a room with many sections of walls. "You see,
in here, each wall is dedicated to an up and coming artist. Many go on to
become very desirable, but others should expect this to be the best show
they have." She guided them to a display with many different types of
paintings. � "These are done by Alexandra Pross. She is a wonderful
artist, but each of her paintings are very different, as you can see.
Abstract, realism, stills; there are many to choose from. Now look at the
prices." � Ray and Fraser took a moment to look. They ranged from $1500 to
$30,000. � "Now, it is unusual for an artist to have such a range, but you
see, I have shown her work many times and I have found that these will
only bring in a very small fee." She motioned to the still life painting
that was marked $1500. "I find, however, that her abstract paintings will
auction for much higher, therefore I can sell them for a much higher
price." � "Then why doesn't she just paint abstracts?" Ray asked. � "I
don't know," Gwen replied. "She always insists on having a still in each
showing. They do sell, but often it is to someone who seems to know very
little about art. They just want something inexpensive hoping it will
appreciate and they can cash in. There are a lot of ...investors...who do
this sort of thing." � "So what you're saying is some of Waterhouse's
paintings are more desirable than others?" Ray asked, understanding. �
"Which makes them worth more or less," she finished for him. � "Could you
tell me how much a specific painting is?" � "I could, I suppose, but if
you want a good reference, there are books that list auction prices of
valuable art." � Ray sighed. "Guess it would be at the library?" � "I'm
certain it would," she replied. "If you'll excuse me?" � "Certainly,"
Fraser replied. � They spent the entire day going from one gallery to the
next. By the time they made it to the library, it was closed. Ray sighed.
� "Wanna go to dinner?" he asked Fraser as they pulled up to the
Consulate. � Fraser nodded. � They had a nice dinner, but it was very
quiet. Fraser tried to make small conversation, but Ray answered in a word
or two and went back to his own thoughts. � That night, Ray had trouble
sleeping again. He was confused by the case, but he was trying not to
think about it. He'd worked for over a week and he was taking the next day
off. 'As long as Huey and Dewey are handling real cases and I'm on a hunt
for a silly painting, it can wait until Monday,' he thought. � Then,
again, his thoughts drifted. � --------- � Tori was startled when the
phone rang. She glanced over at the clock and saw that it was 3 am. She'd
been thinking about Ray and had only fallen asleep 2 hours before. She
felt around and grabbed the phone. � "H'lo," she croaked. � "Tori?" � She
sat up. It was nearly the last voice she expected to hear in the middle of
the night. "Ray?" � "I need to talk to you." � 'It's about time,' she
thought. "Ok. Can it wait until morning?" � There was a silence.
"Breakfast at The Pancake Shack?" � She nodded, then realized he couldn't
hear the nod. "Ok. Make it 9." � She heard a click and the buzz. He'd hung
up without a good-bye. She flopped back into the bed and her mind started
racing. Maybe he didn't want to talk about their relationship. Maybe he
didn't want to talk about her kiss with Fraser. Maybe he was going put one
more hook into her, making it that much more difficult for her to say
good-bye. � ------ � Tori was sipping a cup of hot, sugared down coffee
when Ray walked in. He looked around and saw her just as she looked up. He
took a step backward, but when he realized she had seen him, he stepped
forward. � Neither of them said a word until the waitress came to poor
Ray's coffee. � "I hope I didn't mess up your case too much," Ray said,
feebly. � "Naw. I'll get him again. Guy's an idiot. I'm more interested in
his partner anyway." � "Don't you think they'll get away if you don't
catch them soon?" � "Oh please. They've been caught more than once on tape
and yet they still set up meetings in places without checking for bugs.
They've been narced three times since I took the case and they never catch
on. They'll probably move to the next city soon, but it wouldn't be
beneficial for them to go yet. I've set up a huge trap for them Tuesday."
� Ray nodded. "Good. Guess I'll try to stay out of your way then." � There
was silence a moment. "You don't have to, Ray. You don't have to stay out
of my way. You just gotta try not to piss me off so much." � Ray shrugged.
"Not like you're a saint to get along with." � She smiled. "True enough."
She waited. "Why'd you call me?" � Ray couldn't speak for several minutes.
Tori could do nothing except wait. Finally he spilled it out. "I realized
in the middle of the night last night that it doesn't really matter what
you did with Fraser. Doesn't really make a difference. Fraser and I have
just been friends for, well, not that long, but I feel like it's been a
long time. � "I dunno about Stella, though. I know I really love her, even
though we are apart and I don't think you had any right to tell me I
don't." � "Hey, look. I wanted to reach over and rip your eyes out, you're
lucky I didn't." � "C'mon, don't," he said pleadingly. � Brooks shrugged.
� Ray waited before speaking again. "I guess I don't see why if nothing
happened between you and Fraser, you guys won't tell me." � "Ray." � "I
told you, we're good friends. I feel ... betrayed." � "Ok, Ray, back off."
� "I just want to know so it doesn't haunt me at night." � "You know,
Ray," her voice was harsh. "I just can't seem to figure why you're so
damned interested in my relationship with Fraser. There is nothing
romantic or anything like that involved, ok? Can you just drop it?" � "But
I need to know how far things went. I mean, did you guys do more than you
and I have? Of course you have...you kissed, but how far did it..." �
"Look, Ray, how would you feel if I started in about Stella. I need
details of your relationship with her so I can sleep better." � Ray tried
to chuckled to show he wasn't intimidated, but he failed. "That's pretty
low." � "Don't you think it's low the way you treat me? The way you're
probably treating Fraser?" � Ray stood. "Look, I'm not taking this, ok? I
don't need it." � Brooks stood also and dropped a $10 bill on the table
without thinking. "Get over it, Ray. Get over my kiss with Fraser and get
over Stella. She's just not worth it." She left the restaurant and Ray
followed. � "Hey, don't you dare tell me to get over Stella!" � "God, Ray,
you are so short sighted! You don't see anything except her, do you?" She
stood next to her bike. � Ray felt warm, angry. He stood closer to tower
over her. "I do care about other things! I felt that for you, y'know. I
never would've tried to kiss you if I didn't care 'bout you. Don't you see
that?" � "What?!" She still sounded angry, but she was more confused. � "I
have feelings for you!" He sounded harsh. � They were quiet for a moment.
"Oh," was all Tori could say. Finally she thought of what she really
wanted to know. "Ray?" � "Yeah." � "Can I ask you a question?" � He
relaxed. "Sure." � It took her a moment to ask. "What's it feel like to be
in love?" � Ray cringed at the not only personal, but also sappy question.
"I dunno know what you mean." � "Deep down I always thought there'd be
sparks or fireworks or something. Deep down I'm a hopeless romantic. I
just don't know what it really feels like." � Ray was surprised. She was a
rookie? "You mean you've never been in love?" � She paused. "Well, I
dunno. Not really. I mean, I've cared about people and I've been with men,
but I've never known a love that would make me reject other people." � Ray
thought for a moment. "I don't think I can tell you. You just kinda know
when it happens." � She shuffled her feet around. � Ray smiled a little.
"Look. You have ta work today?" � "Uh, no, actually." � "Neither do I.
Mind going to a few art galleries?" � "Art galleries?" Now she was
thoroughly confused by the quick turn of conversation. � "Yeah, it's a
case I'm working on. Thought maybe we could go and leave Fraser at the
Consulate today." � "Uh." She thought for a moment. "Ok." � -------------
And every time I'm close to you, There's too much I can't say, And you
just walk away. And I forgot to tell you I love you. And the night's too
long And cold here without you. I grieve in my condition, For I cannot
find the words to say I need you so. ------------ � Ray didn't learn a
whole lot about art. They visited museums he'd been to the day before with
Fraser, but he didn't tell Tori that. Later in the day, Ray dropped her
off at the restaurant to pick up her bike. � As she pulled a pair of lined
leather gloves from her pocket, he smiled. � "What?" she asked. � "Don't
you think it gets kinda cold for a bike in winter?" � She shrugged. "Well,
with any luck, my car will be running soon and I'll be able to drive it
through the winter." She paused. "Do you wanna see it?" � "What? Your
car?" � "Yeah. Your GTO is nice, but nothing compares to my beautiful
machine." � Ray scoffed. "What do you have? A nice Beamer?" � "BMW?
Please! It's a 1959 Cadillac." � "You mean an Elvis car?" � "Hey, it's not
painted bubblegum, ok? It's black." She smiled, obviously both proud of
the car and anxious to share it with someone. � Ray was intrigued. "Ok." �
"Follow me," she said and slipped on her helmet. � Ray chuckled as he
drove because Tori kept dodging in and out of traffic trying to stay a few
cars ahead. She only ever managed one or two cars ahead, even in her bike,
as he dodged right behind her. � They were almost out of the city when she
pulled into a junk yard and hopped off of her bike. Ray pulled in and
rolled down his window. � "Get out, sport. This is as far as Mikey will
let me drive. We have to walk from here," she smiled a big toothy grin,
excited to share her car with someone. � "Hey, just how much fixing up
does this car need?" � She laughed. "C'mon." � Ray climbed out. "Should I
worry about leaving my car here?" � She shook her head and pointed across
the yard. "See over there? They'll keep an eye out for you." � Ray
shrugged and followed her as she started to weave through the cars. It was
a salvage yard full of wrecked and rusted machines of every car type he
could imagine. � "Mikey's a good friend of mine. He runs this yard and has
a few garages out along the back of the lot." She pointed as they walked,
but all he saw was a whole lot of cars. "He's been helping me rebuild my
car for the past 2 years." Ray kept pace with her through the lot until
they came upon the covered garages. � "Mikey!" she hollered and a small,
somewhat muscular man appeared. � "Hey, Tori. Come 'ere." He waved them in
and Ray looked around. The man led them two cars down where he saw the
Cadillac. � He watched as Tori ran her hand along the door. The top was
down and the interior was as fresh as the exterior. He let out a quiet
sound. "Wow." � Tori smiled. "My dream car. Gorgeous, huh?" � "I finally
got that gear shaft," Mike said and pointed to a dingy table. � She
smiled. "I was starting to think you'd never find the right one." She went
to the table and looked around. Ray watched her pick up a black object
with her right hand and swing it over. She barely took a step and dropped
it. He started to step toward her when she bent down. She came up with the
object in left instead and he watched her roll her right shoulder as if
stretching the muscles. � She examined the part and brought it to Mike.
"Looks good, Mikey. Thanks. Any word on the engine?" � Mike shook his
head. "Nope. You know, I could modify it to fit a small truck engine." �
She shook her head this time. "Nope. I'll substitute a lot of things, but
the engine's the heart of the car." � Ray looked under the hood. He could
see that most parts were either originals or good substitutes. This Mike
was very skilled at his work. � "Well, Mikey, this is Ray. I just wanted
to show 'im the car. He's got a GTO." � "What year?" Mikey asked with
interest." � "1967," Ray replied nonchalantly. � The three of them chatted
briefly about cars, then Tori led the way back out of the maze of wrecked
cars. � It was only mid afternoon when they separated, but the air was
already starting to get cold. � -------- Oh you are in my blood like holy
wine. You taste so bitter and so sweet. Oh I could drink a case of you,
darling And I would still be on my feet. I would still be on my feet.
-------- � Ray opened the door to his apartment and saw a message on his
machine. He hit the button, but before it played the message, his mind
wandered. He was thinking about Tori. He was wishing he wasn't at the same
time he couldn't get her out of his head. He picked up his keys again and
headed back to his car. � He needed to talk to someone. He thought of the
possibilities, but there was really only one. Frannie would dispense
advice from a Harlequin romance novel, Welsh would tell him to "buck
up"...no, there was only one true friend, despite the fact that he was the
same one who represented the wedge between Brooks and himself. He turned
on the road that ran past the Consulate. As he approached, her nearly
choked. He parked alongside the curb, turned off the motor, and stared in
disbelief at the black bullet bike leaning ten feet in front of him. �
'That can't be her. I'm seeing things,' he thought at first and closed his
eyes. He rested his head on the steering wheel while taking a deep breath.
When he looked up, he saw that it was still there. 'Carrying on with him
the whole time I'm pining away like a fool?' He started his engine, then
looked at the motorcycle again. He slammed a fist against the steering
wheel, turned off the engine, and climbed out from his car. 'She won't get
away with this,' he growled to himself as he slammed the door to his GTO.
� Turnbull looked up, the usual confusion on his face, as Ray breezed
quickly past his desk. � Ray kicked open the door to Fraser's office, then
felt immediately foolish at his drama. Fraser was leaning against the
window as Brooks leaned back in the seat behind his desk. Her eyes were
wide and she relaxed when she saw that it was just Ray. She stood and put
on her coat. � "Guess that's my cue," she said. "Time for the boys to
talk." � Ray pointed an accusatory finger at her, still angry at himself,
but turning his anger on her. "I didn't come here to talk. Well, I did,
but I saw your bike out front." He realized how lame he sounded and moved
his hands to his hips. � "So?" She seemed confused, then it dawned on her
what Ray must have thought. "Ah. I see. You thought Fraser and I were in
here gettin' it on, huh?" She put her gloves on as she walked around the
desk. She raised her voice. "How many ..." she paused and took a breath to
calm herself. "You have to believe me when I tell you that Fraser and I
are friends, just friends. I don't feel I can confide in many people
around here so I came to talk to him. It isn't going to work if you can't
just believe me." � Ray was a little baffled by her calmness. He'd half
expected a punch when she came toward him. � She put on her helmet and
walked out of the room. � Ray turned to Fraser. Fraser raised his
eyebrows, but didn't say anything. � "What'd you say to her?" � Fraser
looked away. "I couldn't say." � "You must've done something. She didn't
even yell." � "It wouldn't be right for me to discuss our conversation,
but you could use some of the advice I gave her." � "What's that?" � "I
simply advised that she calm down. You have a knack of getting under her
skin, just like she gets under yours. I told her not to let it get to her
or every conversation will end up in a brawl." � Ray hated the fact that
he knew Fraser was right. "But that's the way we function, Fraze." �
Fraser rolled his eyes. "True," he said, "but can't you see that it's
dysfunctional?" � Ray shrugged. "Dunno." He shifted. "She asked me a
really weird question today." He waited for Fraser to inquire, but his
good manners didn't permit his prying. "She asked me about love. Was kinda
a dumb conversation, but it got me thinkin'." � Fraser tilted his head and
raised his eyebrows. � "Did she tell you how she felt 'bout me?" � Fraser
ran his thumbnail across his brow. � "I know, I know, you can't tell me,"
Ray sighed in frustration. � "I'd like to ask one question to you, Ray." �
Ray straightened. "Huh?" � "Do you speak so much of Stella because you are
in love with her or because you think you still ought to?" � The words
drifted into Ray's head, but he couldn't make sense of them. He blurted
out an answer that sounded rehearsed and was the same thing Fraser had
heard so many times he thought he's ears would start to bleed the next
time. � "I love her. She loves me. We just couldn't work things out,
that's all." � -------- � Ray wasn't sure how he was feeling the next
morning when he got up early to go boxing. There was definite
anticipation, but whether it was at seeing her or getting the workout was
unclear in his mind. He moved about as if he were a machine. He didn't
think much about his actions, he just went on in auto-pilot. � Ray got
Brooks with a left hook before she got out her first punch. He noted that
he must be improving as he hadn't been able to get in the first punch
before. She psyched him by lifting her right and punching with her left.
It was then that he realized she was using her left, even though she'd
been a right handed boxer. � Fraser noticed it too. He also noted that
when she did use her right, it was weak and she reacted with a scowl on
her face what he could see of her face, anyway. � After only a few minutes
of sparring, Ray gave her a series of jabs which she responded to by
tapping him with her left, then swinging a forceful right. As soon as she
hit him, she grabbed the arm and fell to the mat, spitting out the mouth
guard at the same time. � Fraser jumped into the ring and took off her
head protection. Ray spit out his mouth guard and fell to his knees beside
her. � "What happened?" � "Nothing, I'm fine," she replied, but the pain
was in her voice. � Fraser made her sit up, then he started examining the
arm. � Ray held out his gloves. "C'mon, get these off me." � Fraser looked
at him, but kept feeling around. Jim came out from the back and saw them
in the ring. "What happened?" he hollered as he ran into the ring. � "I'm
fine, guys, get away," she pulled her arm away from Fraser. � Ray held his
hands out to Jim. "Take these off, wouldja?" Ray remembered her dropping
the car part the day before and it all came together. He'd observed her
using her left far more than usual, but didn't actually make a note until
now. � Jim hurried to untie a glove. Ray shook it off, untied the other,
then took off his skull guard. � Tori started to feel claustrophobic and
jumped up. "I'm fine, guys. I just hurt my arm a little the other day. I
thought it was fine." � "Maybe you should get it looked at," Jim
suggested.  � "It's ok, really." � Ray untied her gloves for her. � "I'm
sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to ruin today's fight." � "It's ok. Look, I'll
drive you to the emergency room." � "Oh, please. Quit making such a fuss.
I just can't swing a good punch, that's all." � "How'd it happen?" Ray
pushed. � "Nothing. Really." � Ray gave her a look. "Something was wrong
yesterday, too. What happened?" he insisted. � "It was stupid." She looked
around and saw they weren't going to let her leave it at that. "I ran into
Squigg again." � "Oh dear," Fraser let slip. � "It was no big deal." She
got a nefarious grin. "Except I've got him more pissed." She looked up
again and saw that Ray was waiting anxiously. "He grabbed my arm and I
flipped him over. Knocked him out in front of his new colleague. I guess I
pulled something in my arm." � "Or he did," Ray said bitterly. � "Anyway,
I'll be fine in a couple days." She headed for the locker room. "Sorry
about the match, Ray." � "I said it's ok," he said, catching up to her.
"Look, how 'bout I take you to dinner tonight? To make up for the match?"
� "That's pretty strange, Ray." � "C'mon, just go with me on this one." �
Tori looked at him skeptically. "Ok, sure." � ------ � The next step in
the case took Fraser and Ray to the library. Ray had a sour look to fit
his mood. They both had art books in front of them in a private study
room. They had been to several art galleries, but were only able to get
surface information. All of the paintings had been by John Waterhouse so
the gallery owners told them of the style, sizes, and techniques of each
painting, but nothing they found helpful. That is what brought them to the
library. � "Thought I picked a job where I wouldn't need to come to the
library," Ray said softly. � "You know, Ray, your aversion to a library is
quite astounding." � Ray looked up from the book he was thumbing through.
"Huh?" � "As you know, I grew up with my grandparents in Tuktoyuktuk. They
ran a library. Well, it was more of a book mobile..." � "What's the point,
Fraze?" Ray urged impatiently. � "The point is, daily reading is very
important if one wants to expand the mind. When you must survive without
daily technology all you have is your mind." � "I read. I read the
newspaper every...week. I dunno. It's not the reading, it's the library.
Makes me think of homework." He shuddered. "Hated school." � Fraser nodded
and went back to his art book. "Hmm." � Ray stood and tried to look at the
book. "What hmm?" � "It isn't the book. I just remembered what the woman
at the gallery said." � "What?" � "Well, it wasn't exactly what she said.
Do you remember her showing us the art by Pross?" � "Huh?" � "The 'up and
coming' new artist Alexandra Pross. She showed us several of her..." � Ray
shrugged. "Oh yeah...sure." � "The painting she showed us was exactly 27
1/2 inches by 18 1/4 inches." � "So?" � "It's an odd size for a painting.
It says here that those are the exact measurements of the painting
'Juliet'." � "Waterhouse?" � "Yes. It also happens to be one of the stolen
paintings" � "Coincidence?" � Fraser nodded, but licked his lower lip in
thought. "Perhaps. I still think we should look into it." � Ray got on his
phone and called the gallery. He managed to get the name of the artist.
After that, he called Fran and got the address for the artist's studio. �
------ � The restaurant was nice, but not too fancy Fraser noted as he and
Ray waited for Tori to arrive. When she did, Ray was pleased to see that
she was dressed up. He smiled and the two of them stood for her. � "Good
evening, Ben, Ray." She set a napkin over her lap. "So how was your day?"
� "Worky, worky," Ray replied in his sarcastic tone. � She nodded her
agreement. "Guess what I heard this today. Davis Squigg was suspended this
morning." � "For what?" Ray asked incredulous. � "He went off the deep
end. His new partner kept complaining and they finally did a mental
evaluation and Squigg failed." She laughed and took a sip of her water. "I
hope they put the bastard in a rubber room until he croaks." � "Is he
being institutionalized?" Fraser asked. � "Naw. Rumor is they've got him
on a drug to calm him down. It's still pretty damn funny, though, isn't
it?" � "Yeah. I guess. Think he'll come after you?" Ray leaned in. � "For
what?" � "Assault, or something. He never really needs an excuse when it
comes to you." � "True, but he's got nothing to back him. He can kiss my
pearly white butt." She laughed again. � Ray looked at Fraser, who looked
back at him. � "Oh, c'mon guys, stop looking so serious. This is good
news!" � Ray smiled finally. "I'm just a little worried." � Brooks shook
her head and gave up. She noticed Fraser was looking past her shoulder.
"So, Ben, how's Meg?" � He looked back at her. "Inspector Thatcher remains
well. Turnbull remains..." Fraser tipped his head side to side while
rolling his eyes. � Brooks nodded.  � After dinner, the three walked to
the street and met up with Dief. Fraser opened his car door and let Dief
in. � "Do you need a ride home?" Ray recalled that she didn't ride her
bike when she was dressed up. � She looked at him a moment, then nodded.
"I took a cab here, but I'd like to save the money." � Fraser climbed in
back and let Brooks have the front seat. They dropped Fraser at the
Consulate first. There was silence following until Ray pulled up in front
of her apartment. Their eyes met, then Ray sighed. "I don't think I'll
walk you up tonight." � She looked at him a moment. She hadn't really
expected him to, but the fact he said it made her wonder. "What are you
afraid of, Ray?" she asked in frustration. � Ray looked at the steering
wheel. "Stella..." � She cut him off quickly. "What are you afraid of with
me?" He looked into her eyes, but didn't answer. "I'm not Stella," she
added. "I'm not any woman who has ever hurt you before. What are you
afraid of?" � Ray felt cornered so he scoffed. Tori's eyes penetrated him
and his boyish smile faded away. "I don't know," he finally replied. � She
got out of the car. "I didn't think you did." � He watched her go inside.
Suddenly he felt alone and stupid. He slammed the steering wheel then he
punched the roof and drove away. � ----------- Dark and dangerous like a
secret that gets whispered in a hush. When I wake the things I dreamt
about you last night make me blush. When you kiss me like a lover, then
you sting me like a viper, I go follow to the river; play your memory like
the piper. And I feel it like a sickness; how this love is killing me, But
I'd walk into the fingers of your fire willingly. ----------- � Ray was
awake most of the night. Bits and pieces of conversations he'd had with
Tori, Stella, many others rattled around in his brain. It was a rough
night, but when he left for work the next morning, he knew what he had to
do. He felt bitter and, as Fraser later noted, it as a slightly violent
day for Ray.  � When Ray entered the squad room, followed by Fraser and
Dief, he was confronted almost immediately by Francesca.  � "Hi Fraser,"
she said seductively as usual. "Ray, Welsh want to talk to you." � Ray
nodded and sat at his desk. � "Uh, he'd like to talk to you soon," she
said impatiently. � Ray sighed and stood again. "Thanks, Fran." � She
looked a little surprised that he hadn't returned her request with sarcasm
and watched him go into Welsh's office. � When Ray entered, he was a
little surprised to see Stella sitting across from Welsh. "Uh, am I
interrupting?" Welsh shook his head. "You wanted to see me?" � "Yeah. I
got the pressure on here. The Caldwell's are wondering exactly how long
it'll be before you get their painting back." � Ray shrugged. "I been
busy." � "Busy with the case, I hope." � Ray tipped his head and shrugged
again. "Lieutenant, remind me again why I'm searching down a painting when
there are murderers running around free as birds?" � Welsh sighed. "I want
that painting and a full report right away, Vecchio. I won't ask again." �
"Fine," he replied coldly and turned to Stella. "Hi, Stella." � She made a
face. "Hello, Ray." � "Hey, Stella, can I talk to you?" � She put her fist
on her waist. "I don't have time for you right now, Ray. I have to be in
court in..." she looked at her watch. � "It will only take a minute." He
seemed determined. She stared at him, as did Welsh and Fraser. "Alone?" he
said at last. � "Fine," Stella said, then started to follow him toward the
currently quiet lunchroom. "Look, Ray, I don't really have time to deal
with you. I don't know why you're bringing this up again, but you know we
have to remain professional. We're not married anymore and we never will
be again so..." � "Ok, stop talking," Ray said in a tone that reflected
his annoyance with her at that moment. "Look, here's the deal of the
thing, ok? I've been running around like a lovesick teenager because I
still love you..." � "Ray," she interrupted. � "No. I'm not done, ok? I
just need to tell you something. Maybe I just thought I was still supposed
to love you. I don't even know anymore. The thing is, I don't have room
for you anymore." He noticed she looked confused and put his hand over his
heart. "I don't have enough room. I will always love you, you know that. I
have to try something else. I have to stop thinking of you as this perfect
woman." � She looked dumbfounded. "What's her name?" she said sourly. �
Ray shook his head. "First of all, there doesn't have to be a 'her' for me
to be sick of this situation, ok? Second, what are you so angry about?" �
She thought about it a moment. "I'm sorry," she said simply. � "So I'm
going to try not to love you and I'm going to try not to bother you." �
She pondered a moment. "Maybe I can try not to be around so much." �
"Thanks, Stella." � She nodded, "I guess I'll discuss things through Welsh
when I can." � As Ray headed back toward his desk, he saw Fraser waiting
patiently. "Ok, Fraser. Let's go talk to that artist." � As Fraser and Ray
pulled up in front of the tall building, Ray re-checked the address he'd
gotten from Francesca. It was a very nice business building surrounded
only by other business buildings. "Weird. There can't be an artist studio
in there." � Ray flipped open his small phone and called Frannie. "Fran.
You gave me an address for a ..." he looked at Fraser who repeated the
name again. "Alexandra Pross. Check it again, wouldja?" � "Ok," Fran said
with a sigh. He could hear clicking of keys through the phone as she
spoke. "What'd you lose it already? I could get a lot more done around
here if you'd...here it is." She read him what was on her screen. � "It's
a big office building," he informed her. � "I dunno, Ray. That's where the
payments for her paintings go. That's all I've got on her." � "Thanks," he
said as he hung up. He furrowed his brow in confusion, then shrugged. �
"Is something wrong?" Fraser asked. � "Nah. Just queer. Let's go in." �
-------- � Tori's eye was caught by the black GTO parked outside of the
office building when she pulled up. She looked over and saw Ray and Fraser
walking into the building. She hurried off her bike and ran inside. �
"Hold the elevator," Ray heard as the doors started to close. � Fraser
pushed in the 'DOOR OPEN' button and Ray watched the doors slide open to
reveal Tori walking their way, helmet under her arm. � "Uh, hi What are
you doing here?" she said, unsure. � "Lead on that art theft." � "Oh? The
buyer work here?" � "Nope. The artist has her payments sent here and has
it registered as her studio." � "Here? That can't be right." She looked at
the piece of paper he held, proving this was the address. "Talked to
whoever works in that suite yet?" � Ray raised an eyebrow. "That's where
we're headed." He paused. "And you?"  � "I got a message at work today.
Apparently a guy I used to know is working here. Asked me up for lunch." �
Ray nodded. He watched the numbers tick away, then noticed it didn't stop
on their floor. "What the...?" he pushed in the rest of the buttons, but
it continued it's ascent. All at once, the elevator stopped and they heard
a noise from the elevator shaft. Ray and Fraser pried the doors open, but
were faced only with wall. It had stopped directly between floors. "Hmm,"
Ray let out in a breath. The three started looking around the small space.
� "Lift me," Brooks demanded as she stood under the access panel. Ray and
Fraser boosted her through. "Shit," she said with a nervous laugh and then
climbed through. She popped her head back down. "Either of you know how to
deactivate a bomb?" � Fraser gave Ray a boost, then Tori and Ray reached
through to pull Fraser up. Fraser looked at it for a long time while Ray
called the bomb squad. They saw that there were only five minutes left on
the timer. Fraser identified each component for Ray, who Ray described
what he saw, then related what he was being told. � "Good news. It's a
small bomb. It won't blow up the whole building, just us and a few feet
around the elevators," he said softly. � Tori smiled nervously. "So what
do we do?" � "Got something sharp? He says we need 2 sharp things.
Scissors are best." � Fraser pulled out a multi purpose knife. "Well, I've
got scissors and a knife, but..." he held it up to show they couldn't be
used simultaneously. � Tori reached around in her pockets and finally
produced a Swiss Army Knife. She started pulling things out until she
found scissors. "Thank goodness for gifts from friends, huh?" � They all
nodded. � "Ok," Ray continued. "The one that hooks into the clock and the
one that hooks into that black box need to be cut at the same time, then
you cut the other two at the same time." � Fraser and Brooks nodded,
counted together, then clipped. The clock turned off, but they could hear
ticking. � "We're supposed to hear that ticking," Ray said. "Now we clip
the other two." � They set up for the next cut, counted together, and
clipped again. The ticking stopped and Tori took a gasping breath. "I
forgot to breath," she said uneasily. � They stood and looked up the
shaft. There were stairs along the sides for maintenance access. Fraser
and Ray went first and pulled at the doors of the next floor, but they
wouldn't budge. They started looking around and messing with everything
around in hopes of finding a release. Something they pressed triggered the
door and it opened slowly. The three climbed out onto the landing. � "Ok,
whoever it was went out above us, correct?" Tori asked and Ray agreed. "In
case he's not out of the building, we'd better check things out. Twelve
stories, three of us, ok. So Ray takes 1-4, Fraser gets 5-8, and I'll take
9-12." � They nodded and hurried to the stairs. � Ray started on the first
floor and made his way up to 4. Fraser started on 8 and came down, meeting
Ray on 5. � "Up, then?" Ray asked. � "Yes, we'll meet up with Detective
Brooks on the twelfth floor." � They ran up the stairs and as they got to
the twelfth floor, they saw the door marked 'roof access' closing. They
ran to the door and as they hurried up the stairs, they saw the door above
them closing. � Fraser made it to the door first and swung it open. Ray
followed him out and they saw a man looking over the edge. They looked
around and didn't see Brooks. Ray pulled his gun. "Freeze!" he hollered. 
� The man saw them and went running. Fraser noticed fingers on the edge of
the roof near where the man had been. He ran over to see Tori hanging
there. She looked up, her feet were flailing. Ray rushed up and saw her
also. � "I've got her," Fraser said, grabbing her arm. "Go get the..." �
"No!" Ray yelled and grabbed her other arm. "You go." � "I am capable
of..." � "Me too..." � Brooks looked more panicked. "Ok, guys, I'm
flattered. Now HELP ME!" � The police sirens sounded below as several cars
and a few from the bomb squad division pulled up to the side of the
building. The very small people below scurried to separate. � Fraser tried
to pull, but the angle made it impossible. "You're going to have to grab
my arm, then Ray's." � She swallowed. "I can't." � "Look in my eyes,
Tori," Fraser said. "You must stop swinging your legs and grab on." � She
looked down and then squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't, I'll fall." � "We
won't let you," Ray added. "One hand at a time, ok?" � She swallowed again
and grabbed Fraser's arm. She looked at the other hand. "I...I can't. It's
the only thing holding on anymore." � Ray leaned over slightly and grabbed
her arm tighter. "You have to trust us. You won't fall." � She took a deep
breath and grabbed. � Ray and Fraser started walking backwards Just as she
came over the edge, Ray lost his balance and the chain reaction landed
them all on the ground. Fraser landed a few feet from Ray and Tori who
landed right next to each other. Their eyes met and a conversation was
practically spoken. Fraser came over and started to help Tori up, ending
their look. She brushed herself off and Ray jumped up, brushing himself
off also. � Fraser turned his hat in his hands. "My father once told a
story about a similar situation. He almost fell off of a cliff and he told
me it leaves you with an appreciation for life." No one said anything so
he continued. "Often people tend to feel the need to live life to the
fullest after a near death experience." � Brooks stopped. "It wasn't a big
deal, Fraser. I'm fine." � They walked together back to the door leading
them to the stairs and headed down in silence. � -------- So there I
stood, square on my side of the great divide. A message came from across
the void and for the first time in my life I'm awake, I'm alive.  I
thought I was immune to this till I felt the static charges in the air. I
touch you, you're a live wire, you're the raw fire burning my heart.  It
took me by surprise, that's no lie you know you are a sharp, shock to my
system My soul my skin you plug me in and all of my pain is gone Just like
it never was.  And for the first time in my life I know what I feel.  Now
every time we touch I'm caught off my guard.  That's no lie. Shock to my
system -------- � Tori unlaced her boots with a sigh. Her head was a blur.
Everyone had told her what Fraser had been quick to note -- near death
experience = carpe diem. She was feeling ready to be away from people. She
was still in shock about the whole thing. She didn't know about this
"living life to the fullest" advice, but she did know that she had the
shit scared out of her. She took an aspirin and laid on the couch. She
closed her eyes and saw the sidewalk 120 feet below. She opened her eyes
and knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. She sat up with a
grumble. � Just then, there was a knock on the door. She sauntered to it
and opened it. She saw Ray and melted. � "I can't believe..." he started.
� "I know." � He came at her and pressed his lips and body against hers,
backing her to the wall. Still locked in the deepening kiss, he wrapped
his arms around her and lifted her feet from the floor, then he carried
her into the bedroom. � ----------- � It was dawn when the alarm clock
buzzed, waking Ray and Tori at the same time. They were still in each
other's arms. Tori smiled and Ray ran his finger over the tattoo of the
fairy stabbing the dragon. "What's this?" he asked softly as he gently
kissed it. � She watched him. "What does it look like?" � "No, I mean,
does it mean anything?" � She smiled a little. "Oh. Yes. It does. You see,
the dragon represents the bad things in this world, like doubt," she
paused. "And fear and hate and the negative words people use. It's blue
because the police academy was my biggest hurdle in overcoming those
things." She sighed. "It's on the upper arm to show strength. The fairy
just means that a small feminine thing like me can be tough enough." � Ray
smiled at her. "Really?" He was a little doubtful of such a story. �
"Yes," she replied. � He pushed back the blankets to reveal the sun around
her navel. He raised his eyebrows, then kissed it as she explained. � "Ah,
that was my first. I wanted to remind myself and others that no matter
what is on the outside, the center of my being is good. I am a source of
light." � Ray raised just one eyebrow at the end. "Isn't that a little, I
dunno, silly?" � "Probably," she laughed softly. "It started with the sun
and somehow got out of hand, I guess. I felt like I needed these constant
reminders." � Ray nodded and went to the butterflies on her leg. He
waited. � "I am free like a butterfly. They carry me from place to place.
I had that one done right before I met you when I left the last place." �
He kissed it gently as he had the others, then kissed her lips. "So how
are the purple streak and the belly ring symbols?" � She smiled. "Uh,
don't you think they make me look good?" � Ray laughed a little and kissed
Tori's forehead. "Mind if I use your shower?" � She nodded her head and
stayed where she was as he dashed to the bathroom. She stared at the door
and clutched some of the sheet to her chest. She felt dizzy, and a little
scared. She feared the big words like 'marriage' and 'family', but at the
same time, she had picked up that Ray wanted those things. She knew it was
a little early to worry about a proposal so she just rolled over and
closed her eyes. � A few minutes later, Ray came out of the shower. She
was watching him button his jeans when he looked up and noticed her
staring. He smiled. � "Ray?" � "Mmm?" � "Now what?" she said softly. �
"What do you mean?" � "I just need to know what happens now, between us.
Do I sit around waiting for a call that'll never come or...?" � He sat
beside her on the bed and took her hand. "I dunno." � She sat up, still
grasping his hand. "What does that mean." � He shrugged and stared at her
for several seconds. "I don't." He leaned over and gave her a deep kiss.
When he sat back, he saw the question still in her eyes. He wanted to tell
her about his last conversation with Stella, about the fact that he'd
opened the way to let her in. He wanted to say that he cared for her
deeply. He wanted to tell her so many things. Unfortunately, what he chose
to say turned out to be more harmful than helpful. "I've thought about
some things. Last night I was watching you sleep. I can't hold that kiss
with Fraser over you anymore. We've shared so much more. I was focusing on
the wrong things. I haven't even thought about it since I realized how I
felt about you." � Tori furrowed her brow and let everything sink in.
Later she would realize she should have asked how he felt or shared how
she felt, but instead she went right to what bothered her. "If you weren't
thinking about Fraser, why'd you just bring him up?" � "I was only saying
it isn't an issue." Ray held her hand a moment longer.	� "But you just
made it an issue again." � "I didn't..." � "You do that. You keep making
it so much more of an issue." � He began to feel defensive. "How am I
supposed to answer that? Anything I say'll just end up hurting you, won't
it?" Without another word, he put on his shoes and shirt and headed for
the door. � Tori stayed in bed for a few more minutes before readying
herself for work. Her alarm had gone off early so she could make it to the
boxing ring before work to practice. She reached over and changed the
alarm time and closed her eyes. She felt a lump in her throat, but refused
to let a tear escape. � ------- The way we fight.  The way I'm left here
silent. Oh these little earthquakes Here we go again ------- � Ray sat at
his desk, phone to his ear. Huey and Dewey walked up to him as he hung up.
� "What'd you find out?" Huey asked. � "Nuthin'. The guy's not talking,"
Ray replied. � "He got a record?" Dewey inquired. � Ray shrugged. "Dunno
yet. All we got is a description on Tori...Detective Brooks' motorcycle
and the address of the building. They found those on the back of her
picture." � "So we're pretty sure it's a hit on her, huh?" Dewey said as
though he was thinking aloud. � "Oh, yeah," Ray affirmed. "No question.
Problem here is that it's not my case. I have to watch this whole thing
from the sidelines." � A quiet "Hello," came from behind the boys. They
stepped aside. When they saw that it was Stella, they disappeared as
quickly as possible. Ray looked up and saw her standing before him with a
file. He looked disappointed. � "I'm sorry I came by, Ray. I got this file
first thing this morning and thought I should come see you." She dropped
it before him.	� He flipped it open and saw it was on John Miller and
this case. � "I heard some people talking. Heard you were with her when it
all happened. Heard about, well, there are a lot of rumors. You ok?" � Ray
simply nodded, but didn't make a sound. � "I came down here to talk to
you, see if you know anything that can help." � He looked past her to see
Fraser approaching. Fraser stopped when he saw Stella standing at the desk
so Ray stood and passed her. "Fraze, glad you're here. I need to get my
mind off...things. Let's go back to that Pross artists address and get
this art theft thing taken care of." � Fraser simply nodded and followed
Ray from the precinct, a tad confused. � ----- � They arrived in front of
the office building again. Ray took a deep breath before getting out of
the car and let it out slowly as they started inside. � The door to the
suite opened as they neared it. Fraser hurried ahead and held the door
open for the woman carrying a mailbag. He stayed and held the door for
Ray, then followed. Ray flashed his badge at the woman behind the desk.
"Alexandra Pross?" � The woman raised an eyebrow. "That would be handled
by Mr. Simon Mortalis. He's down the hall, last door to the left." �
"Handled by? What does that mean? He like an agent?" Ray queried. � She
shook her head. "Not really," the phone rang and she put her hand on it.
"He can explain it better." She turned away from them and picked up.
"Artist Investments. How may I direct your call?" � Ray and Fraser walked
down the hall and found the last door on the left was wide open. The
gentleman at the desk wore an expensive suit. His smile disappeared when
he took a good look at the two men before him. "Yes?" he said coldly. �
Ray showed his badge again. "Detective Vecchio. This is Constable Fraser.
We'd like to ask you a few questions." � "In regards to...?" � "Alexandra
Pross," Ray replied. "Her checks are being sent here for her paintings.
It's listed as her studio. Why's that?" � The man walked to the door,
closed it, and offered them seats across from his desk. He then sat back
behind the desk and folded his hands. "We offer a certain," he paused to
choose his words. "A specific service to our clients. Many of these
artists stay in abandoned lofts, sometimes condemned properties; which is,
of course, illegal. We find buyers for their works and one of the things
they get in exchange is that they get to have their mail sent to a
reputable place." � "Hm," Ray began. "And how do you make money?" � "A
percentage of their sales, of course." � "So you're an agent? Like for
actors and writers?" � "Essentially," he replied. "The difference is that
artists are a newer, untapped market. Very lucrative. Of course the
company deals in other investments, but we cater to a very particular type
of customer." � "You mean rich," Ray filled in. � The man simply nodded.
"Will that be all?" � Fraser and Ray stood. "I guess," Ray said and opened
the door. � Fraser noticed a pile of artists canvases somewhat hidden
behind a filing cabinet. He tried to determine the reason behind having
them there, but couldn't. � "Before we go, I'd like to know where I can
find Ms. Pross." � The man shook his head. "I don't think I can tell you."
� Ray shifted. "Why not? I just need to speak with her. I don't care if
she's on some abandoned property or anything." � "Don't you?" Mr.
Mortalis. "I find that hard to believe." � "I just need to talk to her,
ok?" � Simon looked at them for several seconds, then scribbled on a piece
of paper and handed it to Ray. "You have to go up to the third floor." �
-------- � � When they stepped onto the landing of the third floor they
could smell paint. It was obvious the place hadn't been painted in many
years so Fraser and Ray walked toward the smell. As they walked along the
hallway, they came to an opening which took a huge amount of floor space.
Looking around they were met by canvasses, paintings, a ruffled bed. And a
humble easel. The easel was angled so that the canvas on it got direct
sunlight. Fraser walked around and looked at the front of the painting. It
was a half finished abstract work. Just as he leaned in he heard a voice
behind him and spun. � "Can I help you?" � Ray turned also to face the
voice. A woman in her mid thirties stood before them in a severely dirty
smock. � Ray smiled a little. "Mr. Mortalis sent us. I have a few
questions about your art." � She smiled in return. "Would you like to buy
something?" � "No, nothing like that. You are Alexandra Pross?" � She
nodded. � "We saw one of your paintings and had some questions." � "What
kind of questions?" � "Uh, we noticed that one in particular is the exact
size of a painting by John Waterhouse that was recently stolen." � She
furrowed her brow. "A lot of paintings are the same size." � Fraser
interrupted. "This one was 27 and a half by 18 and a quarter inches. It is
a very odd size." � She shrugged. "My canvases are blank when I paint on
them. None of that painting over master pieces stuff," she replied. �
Fraser nodded and began thumbing through her canvases. � "Can I help you
find something?" she asked almost defensively. � Fraser shook his head and
Ray continued. "Why do you paint those still life paintings. The gallery
owner says she can't get as much for them." � She shrugged again. "I don't
know. I just like to paint them. Mr. Mortalis told me I should paint them
if that's what I like. He says it is ok that they don't sell for as much."
� "And why do you live here if the other paintings are selling?" he
inquired. � "I haven't sold very many, really. I just paint and give them
to the galleries...Mr. Mortalis is handling the money. He sold one
recently that will give me enough money to get an apartment. Up until
recently, it's only been the still life's that sell -- just enough for me
to eat for a month." � Ray nodded. There were some inconsistencies, but he
thought little of them. � Fraser pulled out a blank canvas and examined
it. "Do you make your own canvases?" � "I used to, but Mr. Mortalis
provides them now. He buys my paint too. It came out of the first
paintings I sold." � "Hm," Fraser said. "We can go." � Ray shrugged. "Huh?
Why can we go?" � "It is Mr. Mortalis we need to speak with," Fraser
replied simply. � "Again?" � Fraser nodded. "Thank you, kindly, ma'am. May
I take this canvas with me?" � She folded her arms. "You want one of my
canvases? No painting?" � "No paint is necessary." � "Hundred bucks," she
replied. � "Ray," Fraser nudged. � Ray began to open his wallet. "$100?
Why am I giving her that much for that? she should paint something on it
first." He handed over the money. � As they walked out of the building and
too the car, Fraser leaned the picture against it. Ray watched as Fraser
pulled up a corner of the fabric covering the frame. He pulled it away,
revealing another layer of canvas -- with a painting on it. � Ray's eye's
opened wide. "The paintings are underneath?" � Fraser nodded. "He's
carefully recovering them and giving them to her." � "Amazing," Ray
replied.� "Pretty tricky.� Why would he do that?� Parade them in public
that way?"
 
 "Well, they are well hidden," Fraser said in thought. "I believe the
question is not about parading them in public.� He specifically intends to
have them not sell easily by having her less desired still life paintings
on them."
 
 "I'm confused, Fraze.� What does that accomplish?"
 
 "They always end up sold, correct?� It seems most likely that he controls
the selling price, then he sends a buyer to buy them at that price."
 
 "So it's a set up?"
 
 Fraser nodded.� "Once the buyer picks it up for a small fee, a legitimate
fee, he is free to take it home and own an original painting by a famous
artist."
 
 Ray shifted on his feet.� "Ok, so he has the painting, he covers it, has
her paint on it, then sells it?� That's dumb.� Why doesn't he just do a
trade in his office or something."
 
 Fraser paused a moment.� "Only one thing makes sense to me.� Customs."
 
 "Huh?"
 
 "In order for a painting to go through customs, the buyer needs a
reputable receipt.� This way a buyer from another country can take the
piece home."
 
 "So it's not just Mortalis, it's the buyer too?"
 
 Fraser nodded.� "I expect a foreign buyer willing to bankroll the theft
is willing to make the small purchase at the gallery in order to have the
painting in their hands."
 
 It all came together for Ray.� It made perfect sense.� The checks for
large amounts came to Mortalis who only cut in Pross for a small amount.�
Another small amount went to the person who was willing to steal the
painting, but how did Mr. Caldwell fit in?� His wife had made it clear
that he had been very insistent on the purchase of that painting.
 
 He turned the car around and headed to the Caldwell mansion.
 
 ----------
 
 Ray and Fraser stood in the entryway waiting to see either Mr. or Mrs.
Caldwell.� Ray began to twist his hands when Mr. Caldwell approached.
 
 "Can I help you?"
 
 "Yeah," Ray replied.� "I'm Detective Vecchio.� This is Constable Fraser.�
We spoke with your wife, but we'd like to ask you a few questions."
 
 Mr. Caldwell led them to the room where they had been before.� The three
sat on the oversized seats.
 
 "Mr. Caldwell," Ray began.� "I don't want to waste your time, so I'll get
right to the point.� Why were you so insistent on the purchase of the
Waterhouse?"
 
 Mr. Caldwell stared blankly for a moment.� "Waterhouse is a favourite
artist of mine."
 
 Ray tipped his head.� "From what I've seen, he painted feminine stuff.
Flowing dresses and that kind of thing."
 
 "True I suppose.� I felt it suited the dcor."
 
 Ray shook his head.� "Your wife pointed out to us that it was different
to everything else."
 
 The man straightened and cleared his throat.� "I felt it was a good
investment."
 
 "Why?"� Ray jumped in.
 
 Mr. Caldwell waited a moment before answering.� "Because I had heard
about the other robberies.� I heard that there is this surge of interest
in Waterhouse and that is why the paintings were being stolen.� I thought
I could get in on it.� We got it at an auction and the price was good.� I
thought I could sell it soon to one of these European yuppies and make
back twice the money."
 
 "You knew about the robberies and you didn't put it someplace more safe?"
 
 "I have an excellent security system.� I was certain no one could get
past it," he replied.� "I see I was wrong.� Look, Detective, it may have
been a strange move, but I have a very. set way of life here.� I didn't
get here by avoiding chances and investing in one certain thing."
 
 Ray nodded.� "All right.� One more question.� Most of the people who had
paintings stolen hired PI's.� Why didn't you?"
 
 "Because the people who hired Private Investigators don't have their
paintings back.� I felt I should try something else.� Especially since I
have friends in the department who have promised that I will be satisfied
with the results.� They better be right."
 
 Ray stared at him.� "I do my job, Mr. Caldwell.� Don't worry.� You'll
have your precious painting."
 
 Mr. Caldwell stood.� "I'm not sure I appreciate."
 
 Ray stood and challenged him.� "I don't appreciate you.� You sit up here
in your little house all high and mighty, calling in favours.� I don't
like it when people call in favours, ok?� I don't like it when I get
pulled off MURDER investigations so I can find a measly painting."
 
 "Get out."� Mr. Caldwell demanded.� "Get out right now."'
 
 "My pleasure," Ray replied with a growl.
 
 Fraser followed him out.� "Ray," he began as they got into his car.� "I'm
not sure that was productive."
 
 Ray scowled.� "I'm so tired of this, Fraser.� I'm tired of people
treating me like.like."� he let the sentence trail as he sped away.
 
 A few moments later his phone rang.� He reached in his pocket and handed
it to Fraser.� "Detective Vecchio's cellular telephone.� This is
Constable."
 
 The voice was loud enough Ray could hear that it was Welsh.� "You and the
Detective better be in my office in TEN MINUTES!"� Then there was a click.
Fraser returned the phone to Ray.
 
 As the two stepped into the squad room, Ray went straight to Francesca.
"Hey Frannie."
 
 "What do you want," she said without looking up from the computer.
 
 "I need you to pull up some records," he replied.� "Simon Mortalis and
Alexandra Pross.� Also I need you to see if any of those paintings have
shown up in Europe."
 
 "Now how on earth am I supposed to do that?" she asked as she sat back in
her chair.
 
 "Vecchio!"� Welsh hollered from the doorway to his office.
 
 "Uh, gotta go," he said with a smile.� "Be creative."
 
 Welsh's face was red.� "I got a call from Mr. Caldwell."� He paused to
take a breath.� "Would you like to explain just what you were thinking?"
 
 Ray cleared his throat.� "Uh," he paused and watched Welsh's face get
redder.� "You know, I'm just thinking about all the unsolved murders and."
 
 "Look, Detective.� I know this is beneath you, but I have my orders and
my job is to make sure you carry them out."
 
 "I know, sir.� I'm sorry.� We've got it under control.� I think we've
about got it all figured out."� He looked out the window and saw Frannie
turn to him with a thumbs up.
 
 "Oh?� Care to enlighten me?"
 
 Ray made his way to the door.� "Can't right now, Lieutenant.� Gotta go
solve this case."� He left before Welsh could stop him.
 
 He took the paper Frannie held out to him and read as she spoke.� "Simon
has been arrested several times for dealing in stolen sculptures.� Never
been convicted, though.� Pross has nothing.� I even found a painting."�
She handed him another page.� "One painting was spotted in London."
 
 Ray had all he needed.� The case now involved international affairs.� He
made his report and took it to Welsh.
 
 ------------
 
 �Tori sat quietly in her apartment staring out the window.� She held her
lease in her hand and let out a long breath.� The message on her machine
was supposed to be good news.� Her landlord informed her that they had
found a new tenant, therefore she was willing to end the lease with no
repercussions.� Tori already had a new apartment and the boxes lined the
walls.� She set the stapled pages on the floor and put her feet up on the
couch.
 
 She had seen Ray several times when she was at the gym practicing her
moves. He always hid around corners or down the street.� Many times he
casually walked past the building and looked in the windows and once he'd
come inside.� She'd pretended not to notice.� She was too hurt to deal
with him. 'If only he had called me back, just once.� If only.'� It did
her no good. She buried herself in her work and tried to make sure he
could get hold of her, but she was finally ready to say goodbye.� Now she
didn't even want him to get hold of her. � --------- � It had been six
weeks since the last time Ray had spoken with Tori. Images of her filled
his mind as he sat behind his desk and stared at the phone. He held a card
in his hand with her phone number on it, but he couldn't bring himself to
dial.  � That first week, she'd left three messages at his house for him.
He didn't even listen to them, he just erased them. She didn't call again
for two weeks and when she did, she'd called and left the message with
Frannie. � Fraser stepped up to Ray's desk and sat on a chair across from
him. He saw that Ray was preoccupied so he simply waited until he was
finally noticed. � "Hi, Fraze. What can I do for you?" � "Nothing." Fraser
watched him for a moment. "I see you are still avoiding the boxing ring?"
� Ray sighed and dropped the card. "Actually, I was there this morning."
Fraser raised his eyebrows and Ray continued. "We didn't box." Francesca
joined them. Ray glanced, but made no acknowledgment. "She still goes
there on Monday's and Friday's for practice. I watched her today." �
"Isn't that a little creepy?" Fran jumped in. � "Shut up!" Ray said
defensively. � "Ray," Fraser cut in. "Why haven't you called her?" � Ray
turned away, ashamed. "Isn't there a case I should be working on?" �
"Probably," Frannie said. "Personally, I think you should spill the dust."
� Ray looked disgusted and quietly said "Dirt, Frannie. It's dirt."  �
"Whatever it is, Ray, I want to know what happened." � Ray looked around
and Frannie sat on the edge of his desk. "It's none of your business." �
"You have to tell me," she insisted. � "No, I don't," he replied and
pushed her off the desk. � "Fine," she snapped. "But don't you come
crawling to me when you have a question about woman stuff." � Ray
sniggered. "Don't worry. I won't." He sighed and turned to Fraser who
simply stared back. Ray leaned back. "I'm going to call her, really I am.
I just want to think of what I want to say first." He remembered back to
what he had said. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong, really, but
she'd made it clear it had something to do with the way he was dwelling on
her and Fraser. "Why do I always ruin everything?" � Fraser shifted.
"Well, Ray, the only way you can make this situation better is to speak
with Detective Brooks." � Ray sighed. "Why didn't I just keep my mouth
shut?" � Fraser shook his head. After several moment, Ray picked up the
phone and dialed the number on the card. � "Detective Brooks," came the
voice through the phone. � He waited, unable to speak. � "This is
Detective Brooks," she paused. "Speak." � "Uh, hi," Ray replied softly and
cleared his throat. � There was a brief pause. "Oh, Ray. I'm glad you
called. I was afraid I'd miss you." � "Miss me?" � "Well, I'm sorry to
dump this on you, but I'm moving. Being transferred." � "Huh?" � "I'm
leaving Chicago. I'm leaving Illinois. I'm going through some training so
I can be a detective in New York." � "What?" � "You heard me, Ray. Look.
I'm sorry. I have to go. My partner and I are on our way back to the
station and I have a lot of paperwork to do before I leave. I'll see you."
Click. � Ray sat there for a minute and listened to the dead air before
hanging up. As he stood and headed for his car, he rubbed his temple.  �
"Where are we going?" Fraser asked as he climbed in with Ray. � "Dunno,
for sure." � "Hmm." � "I don't want to hear your 'hmm' Fraser. Keep it to
yourself." � "You know, Ray, you really only have two options. You either
call Detective Brooks again and apologize..." � "I'm not going to call her
back." � "...or you learn to live with yourself." � "That's not the
problem, Fraser. She's leaving." � Fraser looked inquisitive. � Ray
noticed. "She's moving to New York. She's as good as gone." He smacked his
car. "She's leaving me for good. I really messed it up." � The next few
weeks he spent trying his hardest to be something he wasn't; happy. He had
made the mistake of waiting until the next day to call her back. He'd come
up with an idea, a farewell dinner, but her numbers had been disconnected.
He tried calling several friends, co-workers, but no one knew where to
find her. � ------- Yellow bird flying gets shot in the wing. Good year
for hunters and Christmas parties. The way we fight.  The way I'm left
here silent. Oh these little earthquakes Here we go again Oh these little
earthquakes Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces. We danced in
graveyards with vampires till dawn We laughed in the faces of kings never
afraid to burn Watching us wither Black winged roses that safely changed
their color I can't reach you I can't reach you Oh these little
earthquakes Here we go again Oh these little earthquakes Doesn't take much
to rip us into pieces. ------ � THE END Watch for Part 3 'Fragile' � Song
credits:  'Full of Grace' by Sarah McLachlan 'I Love You' by Sarah
McLachlan 'Case of You' by Joni Mitchell 'Ghost' by Emily Sailers 'Shock
to my System' by Rick Springfield � � http://hexood.com/dsa/