Cardiac Arrest
by Jennie Hayes, Di Sudduth, and Amy Hull

Nat sat in the interrogation room, tracing a finger back and forth along the edge of the table while wondering what was going to get broken and how long it would take her to clean up after the search. She sighed and imagined Sydney's reaction to the intrusion. He'd probably hidden when everyone barged in, and she'd be lucky if she didn't come home to find he'd clawed his distress out on the furniture. Leaning her head against her fingertips, she pulled one of the notepads she'd been allowed to keep toward her and began jotting notes on it about things she should double check when she got back to the lab, and trying to come up with something new to check out about Stonetree. This was so ridiculous. How could anyone suspect her? That salesgirl from Darkangels's recognized her? Not possible! "Well, it'll all be over soon," Nat sighed.

Her head snapped up when Nick pushed his way into the room, and her hand slowly lowered to the table. Anger and worry were so evident on his features they seemed to radiate from him in waves. He stood next to the door, arms crossed just staring at her, while Schanke followed him into the room at a slightly slower pace, apologizing to someone outside the door. Schanke's face mirrored the worry on Nick's, and there was a great deal of the anger as well. He carried a sheet of paper in one hand.

"What is it? What's happened?" Nat's voice took on a rough edge of worry and agitation.

"Look at this," Schanke showed her the paper. "I jotted that down--it's the content of some notes we found partially burned in your fireplace. Do you know what that's about?"

Nat scanned the paper rapidly. Her eyes widened slightly, and she flickered a look at Nick, whose eyes caught hers for a moment and read the near-panic there, then looked back at Schanke.

"My fireplace? I haven't lit a fire in there for weeks, and it was clean last time I saw it," she said, shaking her head.

"OK, but what about the notes? Do you recognize any of them?" Schanke persisted.

Natalie looked down at Schanke's notes. The first was virtually intact.

"Dear Natalie,

    Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me this 
evening. We have a lot of details to work out, but I know if 
we can sit and talk everything will work out just fine. 
Thanks for being so understanding. Joe."
The second was just a fragment, "I can't begin to tell you how lovely... ... me so happy. If I can..."

The third read, "I'm sorry, but this just isn't going to work out. We're going to have to stop..."

"Um, let me see," Nat held up the paper and pointed to the bottom. "Well, this last one is from a case Stonetree was asking about a week ago. We were trying out a new system of reporting, but we kept running into glitches. And this first one..." She turned a look of appeal on Nick, who nodded slightly.

"Schanke, I think Nat could use some coffee, and tell Cohen before she gets wind of it on her own, please," Nick commented, tearing his eyes away from Nat's face to look at Schanke. "We'll wait for you to get back."

Schanke blinked, then looked from Nat to Nick, nodded without a comment, and left the room.

As the door closed, Nick sat on the edge of the table. "Who's framing you Nat? And how did they fake these notes?"

"The notes are real," replied Nat. "They must have been stolen from my office. The third one really *is* about a new reporting system. But this first one... Stonetree wanted to talk to me about *you*, Nick. Something or someone led him to start asking questions about you, your background... He's on your side, Nick, but something made him suspicious enough to ask.

"And this one?" Nick asked, indicating the second message.

"This one I'm not really sure of... Let me think," Nat paused in thought then a look of sadness crossed her face. Her voice trembled as she explained, "I... I'm not sure, but maybe. Remember Cynthia? You know how hard her death was for me. Joe was so nice and supportive. We exchanged several notes and a few phone calls. At one point I'd sent him a small gift and a letter to thank him for being so supportive. I think this was his reply. We corresponded a long time with little notes. He was such a *caring* man. I don't know what I'd have done without the two of you..." Nat's voice broke and she brushed away the tears that had formed at remembering her goddaughter.

"Nat, hey, Natalie," Nick comforted her, "we all know this is a set-up. Don't worry; everything will be just fine."

Schanke returned with Captain Cohen and Nat's coffee.

"Dr. Lambert," Cohen began, "we're going to need to take a statement from you. We've found additional evidence at your apartment."

Nick sprang up from the table suddenly and turned to Cohen with a stern "*What* additional evidence?"

"Let's get this on tape, Detective," she replied and gestured to the officer coming in the door.

"Wha... What's this about, Captain?" Nat asked, looking rather stunned.

"Gentlemen," began Cohen, "please remain, but let me ask the questions." She turned to Nat, "What was your relationship with Joseph Stonetree?"

"Captain Stonetree and I were friends. We worked together closely on cases. You know, Captain, much the same as my relationship with you."

"And where where you on the night of the Captain's murder?"

"Working at the lab."

"You weren't there when his body was discovered; we had to page you."

"I... I was on dinner break. I know I normally eat in, but I went out that night. Errands to run."

"What errands?"

"I picked up a few groceries and my dry cleaning and was grabbing food to bring back to the lab."

"You arrived on the scene almost immediately, Doctor."

"I told you I was running errands on dinner break. I was in the neighborhood." Nat shot a scared look at Nick, who was trying to be unobtrusive as he leaned up against the mirror.

"And these fragments of letters found in your fireplace?" continued Cohen. "Can you explain these, Doctor?"

Nat looked at the photocopies placed in front of her. With a sigh and another glance at Nick she began, "Captain Stonetree and I were working on a new reporting system recently, trying to smooth the paperwork flow. The first note is a request to meet to continue discussing the problem. The third is after we decided the new technique wasn't going to work."

"And the second note?"

Nat stared at the photocopy in her hands and quickly laid it on the table, hoping no one had noticed the tremor of her fingers. She could not keep her voice totally steady as she explained, "This one I'm not sure of. It might have been the thank you note he sent me for a gift some time ago."

The Captain's eyes looked sympathetic, but her voice had a sharp edge. "And what can you tell us about this?" Cohen showed her another photocopy, this one of a receipt. "Darkangel's Dangerous Liaisons" was imprinted across the bottom, right next to what was undeniably Nat's own signature.

"It looks like my signature, Captain, but I was never ever there. I've never *been* there. It's not mine." Natalie looked Cohen steadily in the eyes while she said this.

"We'll investigate this further, and can you explain how this got under your bed, Doctor?" Cohen asked in the same sharp-edged voice as she produced an evidence bag containing Stonetree's trademark too-small hat.

As one, Nat, Nick, and Schanke started. "What?" exclaimed Nat. "Under my *bed*? Captain Stonetree has never been to my apartment! I have no idea..." She was shocked and indignant. Whoever was trying to frame her was doing a pretty good job. She again glanced at Nick, who had resumed his stance leaning up against the mirror. His eyes looked haunted. Nat looked into the depths of the mirror, idly wondering who was behind it, watching her. A chill ran down her spine and she was suddenly filled with dread.

* * *

Behind the glass, Captain Cross had a huge smile on his face as the voice over the speaker said, "Dr. Lambert, I'm very sorry, but you are under arrest. We'll call the Crown to arrange for an attorney and we will begin to check out your story."

* * *

Later, in Cohen's office, Nick paced. "Captain, you can't," Nick insisted.

"I mean it, Knight. You're too involved. I'm assigning this investigation to another team."

"But, Captain!" Nick protested.

"Drop it, Knight." The Captain was firm. "Fred Fielder is a good cop." Nick and Schanke exchanged dubious looks, but she continued, "He'll clear Dr. Lambert... If she can be cleared."

Nick still looked skeptical.

"One slip, and his ficus is out the window," Schanke threatened.


The Nightmare Before Conviction
by Amparo Bertram

Natalie sat on her bunk, hardly able to believe she had been arrested. As she contemplated this turn of events, a quiet voice reached her ears.

"I sense there's something in the wind.
That feels like tragedy at hand..."

No kidding, she thought. She looked around for the source of the song. Outside her cell, a young woman in uniform was writing in a notebook at her desk and singing under her breath, probably unconsciously. The officer wore glasses and had what appeared to be a large quantity of brown hair bound up in a braid. She seemed vaguely familiar.

"And though I'd like to stand by him,
Can't shake this feeling that I have--
The worst is just around the bend."

The words served to make Natalie even more depressed and anxious. She *knew* Nick would do his best to clear her name, but was it possible? The evidence against her was hard to refute, even though it had all been planted. Just the thought of being convicted of the murder gave her the shivers. The song wasn't helping any.

"And does he notice my feelings for him?
And will he see how much he means to me?
I think it's not to be."

"Do you mind?" Natalie called out.

The guard looked up in surprise. Natalie recognized her, but the name was somewhere in the back of her mind. She would remember eventually. "Sorry," the woman apologized, blushing. She pulled a book out of a desk drawer and buried her nose in it.

Nevertheless, the damage had been done. Natalie's already frayed nerves were completely on edge. Where are you, Nick? What's going on out there?

She shoved herself off the bunk and began to pace.


Surprise Answer!
by Sharon Himmanen, Jennie Hayes, and Amy Hull

(Uniformed guard played by Amparo Bertram. Redheaded woman played by Valerie Meachum.)

Natalie paced back and forth in the holding cell, compulsively wiping her fingers with the wad of paper towels she had clutched in her hands. What ink she'd managed to get off her fingers was now spread across the towels and she had succeeded in doing little more than smearing it around on her hands and clothes. Why did they have to use so much? she thought absently to herself, willing herself not think about the humiliation of the booking process.

Eleven paces and she faced the cinder block wall. A sharp turn on her heel, eleven more steps and her nose touched the bars. Each time that happened, she'd glance up, taking in the woman in the uniform who stood guard and the steps (Amparo, wasn't that her name?), hoping to hear footsteps, to see Nick and Schanke coming down to let her out and tell her this was all some terrible mistake.

But it wasn't a mistake, was it? Someone was doing this deliberately, setting her up for Stonetree's murder so neatly. Natalie's steps slowed as she mentally reviewed the evidence they had on her so far. The cat hair on the choker. It had matched Sydney's all right. Whoever it was probably picked that up when they planted the receipt, the semi-destroyed love letters and Stonetree's hat in her apartment. And there was that woman from the boutique who had identified her as the one who had bought the lingerie.

Natalie stopped her pacing abruptly and stood quietly in the center of the cell for a moment. She thought she'd heard someone coming down the steps, but after a few seconds, when she saw no one, she turned slowly and sat down on the bunk. With a sigh she leaned back and closed her eyes. She'd gone over the evidence in her head at least a dozen times. And each time, she came up empty. Now she was forced to wait here doing nothing while Nick and Schanke tried to clear her.

If he could clear her, she thought.

She needed to work right now. Not being able to do anything was driving her crazy. Sometimes work was the only thing that helped, even when it was painful or difficult, like the autopsy she'd had to do on Stonetree earlier. She allowed herself to relax a little, grateful for the slight lessening that brought to the knot in her stomach and let her mind wander back over the details of the autopsy she'd performed earlier . . .

* * * * *

Surprise, Surprise, Surprise
by L. Bruce Gray

"Just one more to do tonight," Nat thought as she moved over to the last sheet-draped figure in the County Coroner's examination room. But, it would be one of the hardest ones that she had done in a long time. Under the covers were the mortal remains of Captain Stonetree. She took a deep breath before carrying the tray with the necessary instruments she would need over to the lab table nearest the body. She took another deep breath when she got there, uncovered the body, and began to work.

* * * * *

About an hour later, she pulled the sheet back up over the head of the cadaver. The examination had not revealed any new facts that she didn't already suspect, but it had still had to be done, regardless. She took the evidence and the identifying information over to the office computer to enter the data that she had compiled. She began by bringing up the screen with Stonetree's records on it and then began to file the report.

Several minutes later, she was done. She pressed the button that would send the autopsy information into the main computer's memory and then got up from the computer desk. She walked over to the small coffee pot near the sink, washed up, and poured herself a large cup. Suddenly, the computer began to beep. Nat took her coffee back over to the desk and sat it down on some nearby paperwork. The screen was flashing:

Data Input Does Not Match - Please Reenter Data

Nat pressed the button to retrieve the faulty file. She wondered which one of the few she had done tonight was wrong. She was surprised at the result.

"Captain Stonetree?" Nat said, half aloud. "What could possibly be wrong with that?"

She took a long sip of her coffee and began to reenter the data on Captain Stonetree into the data base. She checked the information she entered against the clipboard she carried to make sure there were no errors between each entry.

"Computers!" said Nat. "Probably just missed a period or comma or something."

A few minutes later and she was done. She pressed the transmit button again, and waited while drinking the rest of her coffee. A few minutes later, the computer began beeping again.

Data Input Does Not Match - Please Reenter Data

"What could be wrong now?" she thought. She looked at the file again and checked the information she had entered against the clipboard's info again. She even checked the evidence file and identifying marks files for inaccuracies. As soon as she knew that she had not made a mistake, she grabbed a copy of the printout and headed for the door.

* * * * *

A few minutes later, she walked into the precinct and went over to Captain Cohen's office. She stopped at the receptionist's desk.

"Is anyone in there?" Nat said.

"Not that I know of, but I stepped out for a short break a few minutes ago." the receptionist replied.

Nat walked over to the Captain's door and knocked.

"Come in." said Cohen.

Nat opened the door and went inside.

"Close the door." said Cohen.

Nat closed the door and then noticed someone sitting in the chair next to the desk.

"I didn't know you were busy. I'll come back." said Nat, and she began to turn around and head back for the door.

"No, wait." said Cohen. "You, at least, are going to have to see this." She pointed towards the man in the chair.

The man swiveled around, and Nat got the shock of her life.

"CAPTAIN STONETREE?!?!?" exclaimed Nat.

* * * * *

With a start, Natalie jerked awake and looked wildly around the cell, breathing rapidly. The uniformed guard had shifted slightly as she'd let out a small strangled sound and sat up quickly. "It was a dream," Natalie mumbled. "Just a dream."

As she stood and resumed her pacing, Natalie thought about how wonderful it would have been if it had been true, or that she could have stayed a bit longer in the dream. Anything was better than this nightmare, she thought, turning on her heel and taking eleven steps back toward the wall.

She was halfway back toward the bars when she heard several people coming down the stairs so she quickened her pace, praying that it was Nick. Her hopes were dashed, however, when she saw several uniformed officers escorting a tall, thin red-headed woman toward the cell.


Living In Another World (1)
by Jennie Hayes and Amy Hull

The red-haired woman was led down the hall by her elbow. As she approached, she was wriggling against the guards' grip and dragging her feet. Her unkempt hair stood out from her head in all directions and her eyes were wide with terror.

Nat looked at the woman she was now incarcerated with. Oh, lovely. They bring someone here, and she's not even here. I wonder where she thinks she is?

After darting wild glances around their cell the woman scooted into the corner, warily keeping her back to the wall the entire way. She scrambled onto the bunk, drew her knees up beneath her chin, clasped her arms about them and began rocking slowly. She watched Nat closely the entire time and was now glaring at her with alarming intensity. Nat thought it might be a good idea to try to help the woman calm down.

"Hi, there." Nat sat down on the cot, being careful to leave the woman plenty of space. The woman pressed herself back into the corner and continued to stare at her with wide eyes. Nat glanced up, and noted that the policewoman on guard was watching them over her notebook. She looked like she expected trouble. Nat shrugged and turned her attention back to the woman, smiling in as friendly a manner as she could.

"What's your name? I'm Nat," she tried in the gentle, soothing tones one would use with a child. The woman still didn't utter a sound, but her eyes narrowed a bit and she turned her head slightly to the side. Well, that was a hopeful sign. She reacted.

"So, whatchya in fer?" Nat drawled. No change. Since this wasn't really a topic *she* wanted to elaborate on, either, Nat tried switching gears. "Don't let me bother you. I guess I'm just trying to keep from wondering what my replacement is doing to my lab while I'm here. They've probably gotten one in by now... This is why I don't take much of my vacation time, either. You always have to spend so much time fixing things when you get back."

The woman was frowning slightly, but Nat thought she was a bit more relaxed. She let her voice trail off, but leaned against the wall and continued thinking. They would probably have someone re-autopsying Stonetree now, in case she'd suppressed some evidence. More wasted time. If only she were out of here, she could get something useful done. Her eyes closed of their own accord, and she didn't have the heart to resist sleep.


Double, Double, We're In Trouble
by Bruce Gray

"CAPTAIN STONETREE?!?!?" exclaimed Nat. "But you're supposed to be dead!"

"Not hardly." said Stonetree.

"Then who is it that I just finished..." Nat started.

"My twin brother, George." Stonetree interrupted. "He was the 'black sheep' of the family. We kind of lost track of him after the... Incident with the swimming pool. But, I guess we know where he is now."

"I never knew you had a twin brother--or any brother for that matter." said Nat.

"I never talked about him because he was such a bad egg. He embarrassed my family a long time ago. He left our family or my father would have thrown him out. Last I had heard of him he was living in Iowa."

"What was he doing here, then?" asked Nat.

I don't know. It must have been pretty important for him to want to come all the way out here, especially when you consider how my family feels about him. We'll never know what it was, now, though." Stonetree sighed.

"I just had Captain Stonetree looking over these other reports." Cohen said. "He's told me a few things about his brother, but nothing that would seem to indicate why his body was found... Well, in the condition it was in. It could still be that the murderer thinks that he really killed Stonetree. I've recommended to the department that he be taken off of his current assignments and kept someplace safe, at least until we find the killer. Meanwhile, don't mention this to _anyone_. It could be that someone in the department has something against Stonetree--or the other police that have turned up dead. I mean tell _no one_--not even Nick or Schanke. I knew you'd find out. I suppose that's the coroner's report there, isn't it?"

Nat nodded, and said, "The data didn't match in the central computer because that _isn't_ Stonetree down in the morgue."

"That's right." Cohen replied. "And we want it to stay that way, at least for now. Don't want to give the killer any new ideas, do we?"

"No..." Natalie started to say more, but stopped.

"I knew you'd see things my way." said Cohen. "Now get back to the lab and put that body away before someone else finds out our little secret. I'll take Stonetree to one of our 'safe houses' until this is over. I'll get him out of here the same way he came in--through the back door. If you find out any more, call right away."

Nat went out of Cohen's office and back down to her office. She was thinking about the strange twists and turns this case had already taken... And now this. There was still no better explanation for the nightie or anything else either.

Suddenly, Nat had an idea--and there was no one else around to tell it to. She picked up her medical bag and went quickly out the door to her car.


Living In Another World (2)
by Jennie Hayes and Amy Hull

As Nat got in her car, she heard a strange humming. "Wait, where's that coming from?" she thought. She opened her eyes slowly, and the strange red haired woman came into view, back to rocking again, but this time her eyes were focused on a lock of hair which she held in front of her face, twisting it with her fingers while she hummed a tune Nat couldn't quite identify. Nat sat up and stretched, wondering if they were putting something in the food here and disappointed to find herself still in the cell. The red-haired woman didn't seem to notice her now. Nat was suddenly angry that the woman was in here. She obviously needed help, not locking up. Someone wasn't thinking when they put her here. Nat stood up.

"Excuse me," she called as softly as she could to the guard, who looked up. "Shouldn't she be somewhere else, where she could get help?"

The guard barely glanced at the woman. "She's being detained until the proper people come to get her."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be that much more to say. "How long will that take?"

"Awhile yet. They had to figure out who to notify first. She's only been here for a couple of hours. Why, is there a problem?"

"Just that I don't think this place is doing her much good." "Well, Doctor, it's the only place she has for now. And she seems more patient about it than you."

Nat went back to her pacing. The woman didn't glance away from the hair now, and she got worried at the lack of reaction. Nat started babbling aimlessly to the woman again, just for the comfort of having a voice in the room. She edged closer to the woman, hoping that physical contact could bring her back from where she'd hidden. The first couple of steps met with no reaction, which Nat hoped was because the woman had begun to accept her rather than because the woman was totally rejecting the world around her. Several cautious minutes later, Nat was close enough to reach out and touch the woman's shoulder. As she made contact, there was an explosive response and the woman let out an inarticulate, ear-shattering screech. Before Nat could blink, she'd slipped off the bunk and pressed herself into the corner beneath it, emitting panicked squeaks.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Nat tried to make her voice as gentle as possible again, "It's OK, nobody's gonna hurt you. You're all r--"

"Good work, Dr. Lambert. Torturing the insane now, are we?"

Nat jumped and whirled to face the source of the voice. Behind her, she heard a thud which must have been the woman hitting her head on the bunk as she tried to get even further away. Sheppard stood behind her, smirking triumphantly.

"What unfortunate circumstances, finding you here, needing my help."

"What are you doing here?" Nat advanced on the bars with a murderous look in her eye and her jaw clenched with pure rage.

"I'm your attorney, of course, unless you can hire someone else on your salary."

"Oh, no. You *can't* be my attorney." Nat restrained herself from adding "I hate you too much."

"Oh, and what are you going to do to change my office's assignment of this case to me?"

Nat imitated the woman's earlier gloating expression, "Conflict of interest. You aren't finished trying Dr. Reston, and I'm a witness in that case. If you won't tell your office that, I'll tell them for you. I'm sure they wouldn't be pleased that you failed to mention that information to them."

Ms. Sheppard's face turned nearly purple and her lip trembled angrily. "Fine. Then you'll just have to make do with whoever I suggest they replace me with." She turned and stormed out, her heels clicking furiously on the hard stone floor.

Nat watched Sheppard until she disappeared around the corner, then her shoulders sagged and she took a slow, deep, calming breath. She turned back toward the bunk, only to find the red-haired woman had edged out from underneath it and was now leaning her head against it, looking at Nat like she was crazy.


And For The Defense
by Elaine Polemenakos

Natalie was still fuming about her confrontation with Sheppard when she heard the guard announce that she had a visitor. Natalie stood, hopeful that Nick had found something that would help.

"Nick?"

"Sorry Dr. Lambert, It's just me, your friendly neighborhood public defender. How do you do?"

"I've been better. So, what do you think of my case, Miss...?"

"Polemenakos. But its a mouthful, so just call me Elaine, all right?"

"Fine. You can call me Natalie, or Nat."

"Good. Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, let's get down to business. Tell me what you know."

Natalie related everything she knew about the evidence against her. Elaine listened quietly, letting her finish the whole story. When Nat was finished, she looked at the notes she had taken.

"OK. Let me just clarify some things here. You've never been to Darkangel's boutique?"

"No. I do have a teddy from there, but it was a birthday present, and I got it over a year ago."

"Do you have an alibi for the time of death?"

"Just my cat, Sidney. I was home, asleep."

"Well, I don't think Sidney can testify, so we'll need to look for people who may have seen you going home. Also we'll look into the purchase at Darkangel's."

"Who is we?"

"Even though I work for the Public Defenders office, I like having a private investigator look into things. Sometimes the police are to busy trying to make a case, they forget to look for exculpatory evidence, as well as incriminating evidence."

"I don't think that will be the case this time."

"Yes, I've heard about your friendship with Detective Knight. Personally, I'm surprised they haven't reassigned the case. Even he can use help, and Sharon is the best there is. She'll probably be in to see you soon, to ask you some questions. Be as honest and as detailed as you can with her. She has this uncanny ability to turn seemingly meaningless details into solid clues."

"I'll remember that. Elaine, if you don't mind my asking, how many of these cases have you won?"

"I don't mind, but you might not like the answer. This is my first murder case. I was surprised they assigned me to such a high-profile one, but Sheppard insisted that I would be the defense that you deserved."

"I'm afraid given Sheppard's opinion of me, she didn't mean it as a compliment. We've had some unpleasant encounters."

"I know. Don't worry. Everyone in the office was kicking themselves that they didn't smack her first. I wish I could have seen it."

"Can you win this?" Natalie asked earnestly.

"I have a lot of faith in this system. I don't think the innocent are ever found guilty, regardless of who their attorneys are. And you are definitely innocent. But yes, I believe I can."

"Good. Now I do too."

"Glad to hear it. Oh, by the way. I got a message for the de Brabant foundation saying that they would cover any expenses for your defense. Do you know what that's all about?"

Bless you, Nick, Natalie thought. "No, I don't think so. Must just be a organization set up to provide for good defense."

"I guess so. Don't worry Natalie. I think I know what I'm doing." With a conspiratorial wink, she was gone.

Where have I heard that before? thought Natalie.


Less than Haute Cuisine
by Judith Freudenthal

Natalie paced her cell, trying to ignore her stomach. She hadn't had much for breakfast and then due to all the commotion missed lunch. She was starving. She was a little surprised at how hungry she was.

The door to the cell block opened and a policewoman entered carrying a cardboard box. The policewoman headed straight for Natalie.

"Step away from the door."

Natalie did as told. The policewoman unlocked the door. It opened and she set the cardboard box down inside the door. She quickly locked the door and left.

Natalie hungrily picked up the box. She looked inside and found dinner. She walked over to the bed where she unpacked the box. She grabbed the foil container holding the main course and eagerly dove in. It was cold macaroni and cheese.

"Yuck."

Natalie was starving so she ate as much as she could stomach. The coffee was weak, cold and black. The bread was soggy. The chocolate chip cookies were stale and hard. She passed on the coffee, bread and cookies.

Natalie heard the corridor door open and looked up. Nick entered holding a bag. He walked up to her.

"Nick. Any news?" Natalie said hopefully.

"Nothing concrete. We're working on a few leads." Nick said. "I've heard how bad the food can be so I brought you some of your favorites."

Nick motioned for the policewoman to unlock the door. She did and Nick handed the bag to Natalie. Natalie took it. The door was relocked.

"You're a lifesaver, Nick." Natalie said pleased. "I ate better tasting paste in first grade. Most of it was just about inedible. Please get me out of here."

"Schank and I are doing our best. Oh, I almost forgot I bought you a couple of books. I hope you like them." Nick took Natalie's hand as it was reached out to him. This "human" contact made Natalie feel much better.

"Thanks."

"I've gotta get back to work." Nick said before he turned and left.

Natalie sat down on the bed and unpacked the bag. It was still warm. A chocolate shake, a large carton of Beef Lo Mein and a slice of chocolate moose cake. Three books were in there--two romance novels and "Interview with a Vampire." "Interview" drew a grin from her. She dove into the food starting with the cake. Then she ate the Lo Mein and washed it all down with the shake. She was stuffed. She started on "Interview" as she ate.


Flatfoots (1)
by Sharon Himmanen and Jennie Hayes

"All right," Sharon said, coming into the office. "We've got a job." Jennie looked up from the romance novel she was reading.

"A job?"

"A job. You remember those. They pay the bills, that sort of thing."

"Cool!" Jennie said. "What kind of job?"

"Working for my friend, the DA."

"Elaine?"

"Elaine."

"Cool, a city contract!"

"Yep. It seems as though the county coroner got herself arrested for killing a police captain."

"You know," Jennie said, staring off into space for a second, "during my brief stint in medical school I knew someone who's a coroner up here. Natalie Lambert."

Sharon raised her eyebrows and grinned at her partner. "Well, I won't judge you buy the company you keep," she said.

"No way!" Jennie said emphatically.

"Way!" Sharon replied with a small shake of her head.

* * * * *

"Now remember," Sharon said, stepping out of the car, "it's *your* week to be the associate. Your job is to make me look good."

Jennie stopped dead in her tracks behind Sharon. "Wait a minute!" she protested. "*I* was the associate last week! It's your turn to play the associate."

"And it's your turn to play 'bad cop,' too," Sharon added, continuing on as if she hadn't heard Jennie.

"Again? I *always* have to play bad cop," Jennie continued.

Sharon paused just in front of the shop and turned toward her partner. "*I* played bad cop last time, remember?"

"No," Jennie corrected. "I did. You insisted on playing good cop then because the guy was really cute. It's *your* turn to play bad cop."

"Too late," Sharon said. "I'm in that mindset right now. Just follow my lead." And with that she pushed open the door to Darkangel's Boutique, the jangle of the bell drowning out the sounds of Jennie's protestations.

Inside, she paused only slightly, trying not to stare at the amazing collection of paraphernalia. She heard Jennie gasp slightly as she entered the store behind her. At just that moment, the young woman from behind the counter looked up from the book she was reading.

"May I help you," Heather asked.

Sharon turned and glanced at Jennie briefly. Jennie made a quick face at Sharon, then pushed past her, a congenial smile on her face. "Hello," she began, approaching the counter. Sharon glared at her from behind, but Jennie continued, holding out her hand and shaking Heather's hand warmly and handing her one of their cards.. "I'm Jennie Hayes and this is my associate, Sharon Himmanen," she said, ignoring the squawk of protest from behind her.

"You're detectives?" Heather asked reading the card. "For who?"

"Have you ever seen this woman?" Sharon asked instead, slipping forward and holding up a picture of Natalie. Her voice took on an edge of irritation. She figured that if she was going to get stuck playing bad cop she might as well enjoy it.

Heather frowned at the picture. "Yeah..." she said hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Sharon asked. She held the picture up closer to Heather. "Take a closer look. Be absolutely sure."

"Take your time," Jennie said soothingly.

"But not all day," Sharon added with a sharp smile. "When was she here?"

"Ah, two days ago. I think?" Heather said, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.

"You think," Sharon said sarcastically. "Come on! You can do better than that. You identified this woman at the police station just the other day! How hard can it be to tell us what you told them just a little while ago?"

"This isn't going to get us anywhere," Jennie broke in, placing her hand on Heather's shoulder "Let's try this from the beginning. You're sure you recognize this woman?"

This time Heather nodded emphatically, then winced sharply.

"Do you have a headache? You want to take a minute to take something for it?" Jennie asked.

"Where did you see this woman?" Sharon asked.

Heather thought for a moment "It was... I think I saw her here."

"You *think* again," Sharon snapped. "Either you saw her or--ow!" She broke off suddenly when Jennie smacked her hard on the arm. "What'd you do that for?"

Jennie didn't answer, but gestured toward Heather who had wandered slowly into the center of the room. She rubbed her temple hard. Sharon looked over at Jennie and raised her eyebrows in question. Jennie shrugged.

"It's... So hard to remember exactly," Heather said. "I *know* I saw her at the police station, and I *think* I saw her before that, here, but..."

"But what?" Jennie asked.

"But... There was a man, dark-haired. He--"

And before Heather could continue, the color drained from her face, and she slumped forward limply into Jennie's arms.

The two woman stood mute for a few minutes staring down at the unconscious sales clerk before looking up wide-eyed at each other. "Now look what you did!" each accused the other simultaneously.

* * * * *

They'd turned the "closed" sign around in the window and dragged Heather's unconscious form by her ankles into the office in the back of the store.

"Now, what do you suppose this is?" Sharon asked distractedly, holding up a large red leather harness. Several sets of chains clinked loudly. When Jennie cleared her throat pointedly, she added, "Think we should call an ambulance?"

"Might not be a bad idea," Jennie said, lifting Heather's wrist and watching as it dropped like dead weight back onto the floor. "She's out cold."

Sharon picked up the phone just as Heather stirred and opened her eyes. She moaned softly, then winced, sitting up slowly. Jennie helped her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not sure," Heather said, and Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Not sure," she said under her breath.

"Shush!" Jennie said, supporting Heather's shoulders.

"I remember *everything*," Heather said suddenly, struggling to stand. "Everything."

"Good," Sharon said, reaching down to help her up. "What do you remember?"

"I *only* saw the woman in the picture at the police station," she said. "There was another woman... And a man, tall, dark, with sad eyes, kinda cute."

"The woman, what did she look like?"

"Medium height, short hair, green trench coat."

"Why did you say that Doctor Lambert bought the teddy and choker?" Jennie asked.

"Because..." Heather's voice trailed off and she shook her head. "Because the dark-haired man told me to."

"He told you to," Sharon said disbelievingly. "If he'd told you to jump off a bridge you'd have done that too?"

Heather nodded slowly. "I know it sounds crazy, and it's more than a little frightening," she said, rubbing her arms as if she felt a sudden chill, "but yeah, if he'd told me to jump off a bridge, I think I would have. I wanted to... No, *had* to obey him. Then he told me not to remember."

Sharon and Jennie exchanged looks. "And there was another man, too!" Heather exclaimed. "He was tall, short hair, very pale. He... Ordered me to remember."

"So you told him everything?"

"Yeah. I *had* to. Then he made me forget everything except that that woman bought the lingerie and the choker, the one in the picture."

"Doctor Lambert?"

"Yeah, her." Heather shook her head slowly. "What's going on?"

"That's what we intend to find out," Sharon said, slipping the picture of Natalie back into the pocket of her trench coat. "But I think you'd better go down to the police station and tell them all this. You can give them a better description of both of the men, and the woman," Sharon said.

* * * * *

Outside, Sharon turned to Jennie in confusion. "What in the hell is going on?"

"You're asking me? I'm still trying to figure out what in the hell kind of case you've got us working on."

"You think she's telling the truth?"

"Well, I'm not an expert, but that faint was definitely real," Jennie said. "Maybe they used drugs or hypnosis or something on her."

Sighing deeply, Sharon headed for the car. "Since I'm the associate I suppose I should ask where we're going now, boss." Sharon said sarcastically.

Jennie grinned over at her. "Well, since you asked," she said, "we're going to go garbage collecting." She pulled open the door of the car.

"Oh, no!" Sharon said, stopping dead in her tracks. "No way! I am not crawling around in filthy dumpsters again! These are brand new shoes."

"They are not!" Jennie said, glancing down at Sharon's scuffed army boots. "Besides, didn't you say to our last client that one of the best means of gathering information is by going through what other people throw out?"

"That was for the benefit of the client!" Sharon said. "I didn't intend for you to take it to heart! What, do you think we're real detectives or something? My idea was to collect retainers with a minimum of work." She pulled out into traffic.

"Head toward Natalie's," Jennie said.

Sharon groaned, making a face, but dutifully turned the car in the direction Jennie requested. "I'm only doing this because she's your friend," she cautioned.

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing," Jennie said.

"You *think* you know what you're doing," Sharon corrected.


Flatfoots (2)
by Sharon Himmanen and Jennie Hayes

Note: Some of the content in this might be a little gross...

"Geez, what's that smell?" Sharon asked, making a face. "Now, what exactly are you expecting to find here?"

Jennie shrugged. "How should I know? Where'd you get the tidbit about going through garbage anyway?"

Sharon looked over at Jennie. "Ever see Sneakers?"

Jennie glared at her. "You know, Natalie's life is at stake here! You could take this a little more seriously."

"I'm attending as diligently to this case as I do all our others," Sharon said defensively.

"That's my point."

"OK, you're so smart, *you* tell *me* what we're going to do, Miss Nancy Drew!"

"All right," Jennie said belligerently, turning and walking into the alley. "I will." She stood for several moments looking around.

"Well?" Sharon asked sarcastically, standing behind her with her arms folded across her chest.

"Well..." Jennie began again, then spotted the dumpster about halfway into the alley. "I want you to go through that dumpster there."

"Uh-uh! No way! If you want that dumpster searched, you go right ahead and search it. I'll wait here."

The two women glared at each other for a few moments, before Jennie decided to try another tact. "Tell you what," she said, stepping over to a small packing barrel. "I'll arm-wrestle you for it."

"You'll what?" Sharon said, nearly laughing.

"I'll arm-wrestle you!" Jennie insisted. "It's your favorite method of arbitration. You've used it to settle our last four arguments."

"It's how I *won* the last four arguments," Sharon said, her eyes narrowing as she regarded Jennie suspiciously. She hesitated, but only for a moment, before shrugging and stepping up to the barrel.

* * * * *

"All I want to know," Sharon said as she prepared to climb into the dumpster, "is just what you've been eating."

"Not eating," Jennie said. "Remember that last client? The weight trainer?"

Sharon stopped and turned to stare down at Jennie in disbelief. "You didn't! He wouldn't even give me the time of day!"

Jennie just grinned maliciously back up at her. "I knew I'd only get to use this trick once so I decided to make it count. Get in that dumpster!"

With a shake of her head and a small sigh Sharon swung her leg over the edge of the dumpster and began gingerly shifting through some of the debris.

"Have we decided what I should be looking for?" Sharon asked.

"I dunno, anything that looks suspicious."

"Jennie, this is *garbage.* It all looks suspicious."

"Well, then, anything that looks more suspicious than usual."

"More suspicious than usual," Sharon muttered under her breath. "So what are you going to do while I'm in here?"

"Watch and enjoy," Jennie said matter-of-factly.

Protesting all the while, Sharon managed to make a more-or- less thorough search of the dumpster, only to find nothing. Jennie watched as Sharon struggled to climb out of the dumpster, but she kept slipping.

"You know," Sharon said, finally, "You *could* use all those new muscles to give me a hand out of here!"

Still laughing hysterically, Jennie rose and walked over. She climbed up onto the box Sharon had used as a step stool and thrust her hand forward. Sharon grasped it tightly, and before Jennie could move, used her other hand to grab Jennie's shoulder, yanking her roughly into the dumpster so that she landed face down into the garbage. By the time she had regained her feet, Sharon was standing out on the street, laughing. "Oh, I'm *so* sorry," she said insincerely.

"I'll get you for that!" Jennie said, red-faced with anger.

"I just figured if I was going to stink to high heaven it'd be easier on you if you joined me."

By this time, Jennie had managed to haul herself out of the dumpster and was busy picking bits of debris off her coat.

"So the dumpster was a bust," Sharon said, looking past her at a rather large stack of boxes. "Since you seem to be the diligent one, did it ever occur to you to check these boxes?"

Jennie ignored her, continuing to brush off her coat.

Sharon sighed, glancing at her watch. "Well, we've worked for four hours straight and I'm exhausted. I'm heading for the nearest bar." As she moved past Jennie, Jennie casually stuck her foot out and caught Sharon's ankle.

Stumbling forward, Sharon held out her hands to stop her fall and leaned heavily against the stack of boxes. She felt them shift sharply beneath her hands and took a step back, nearly backpedaling into Jennie as she did so.

Too late, they both scrambled out of the way as the boxes began to rain down on top of them, but something large and dark and very smelly caught Sharon on the shoulder and she fell, taking Jennie down with her.

Still a little stunned and out of breath from Sharon's weight on top of her, Jennie was aware first that Sharon was emitting a hoarse, horrified yell. The second thing she was aware of was Sharon frantically struggling to get out from beneath whatever was weighing it down. Jennie shifted slightly, then twisted her body around to see what was causing Sharon so much distress.

When she saw what it was, the alleyway was filled with the sounds of two women and their horrified screaming, until Sharon managed to shove the mass off her legs and scrambled to her feet, gagging as she ran from the alley as fast as she could. Jennie wasn't far behind her.

Out on the street, Jennie stood gasping for breath, watching as Sharon frantically ripped her overcoat off, balled it up and threw it down onto the sidewalk. She shuddered elaborately.

"What was it?" Jennie asked loudly. "Was that what I think it was? What was it?"

Sharon leaned forward, her hands resting on her legs, breathing heavily. "Go back in there and find out who it is," she said.

Emphatically shaking her head, Jennie said, "That was a dead body, wasn't it?"

"We gotta call the police," Sharon said. "Go call the police. But first, go back in there and find out who it is."

"You go back in there! That's a dead body! You never said we'd have to deal with a dead body! That's a dead body in there!"

Looking up through her tangled hair, Sharon glared at Jennie. "Now I know why you got kicked out of medical school," she said sarcastically. She straightened, taking a deep breath. "We'll go in together, all right?"

Jennie was shaking her head slowly. "I don't do dead bodies! That's in my contract. I put that in my contract, didn't I? That's a dead body in there, isn't it?"

Shaking her head, Sharon grabbed Jennie roughly by the arm and dragged her into the alley. Forced to deal with this, Jennie drew a deep breath and attempted to pull herself together. Tentatively, they crept toward the dark mass lying on the pavement surrounded by boxes.

"It's a woman," Jennie observed, turning her head away and wrinkling her nose.

"She's got something in her hand," Sharon added. "Looks like a... Pin or broach of some kind." She straightened. "OK, I've had enough," she said moving rapidly out of the alley. "Time to call the police."

* * * * *

"We stink," Jennie said dejectedly as they returned to their car. They'd spent the last two hours with the police making statements and answering questions and had only now just been allowed to leave.

"Do you mean that literally or figuratively?" Sharon asked.

"Both, I think."

"Come on," Sharon said. "We did a good day's work for a change."

"We only put in six hours. How much money is that?" She sighed heavily and stared out the window.

"Well," Sharon said, turning the car into traffic again, "the way I figure it, given everything we've been through today, traumatic to say the least, we really worked the equivalent of 18 hours, don't you think? I mean, how often does a dead body fall on top of you?"

"How can you be so cheerful?"

Sharon grinned. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"You *think* you know what you're doing!"

"Yeah, well this little episode is gonna look *great* on our resume. We just solved a missing person case for the police by finding their missing officer. *And*, though I might be wrong about this, Detective Schanke seemed awfully interested in that sword pin that she had clutched in her hand. I heard him say that he thought this would clear Nat once and for all. We did good work today, and I think we should celebrate. Look, there's a club there. Let's go in. I'll let you buy me a drink."

"The Raven," Jennie read the sign aloud. "I don't know," she said hesitantly. "It looks like a bit of a dive from out here."

"Oh, it'll be fun," Sharon said. "We'll duck home real quick, shower, change, then head back here. I'll pick you up in an hour and we'll come back here."


Passing Glimpse
by Jennie Hayes

Jennie sank deeper into her seat in the theatre. She could almost feel LaCroix's icy stare, which she expected to descend at any time. He was *certain* to find out about who took over directing this mayhem. Valerie was already in hot water with him, but *Jennie* had managed to escape his notice... Until now. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to feel safe after tonight. She just hoped her infamous NatPacker 'lack of self-preservation skills' tendency didn't kick in full force when he noticed, or she'd tell him off before she knew what she was saying. It had certainly happened before, with other maniacs.

She turned her attention back to the screen. The episode was just showing the bit with herself and Sharon fighting in the dumpster. Sharon, who sat in front of her and Amy, turned around, "Amy you were so *good* there," she praised, "you were such a believable dead weight, I still don't know how you managed to keep from moving!"

"Oh, I think that was the take where she fell asleep. You remember, we couldn't wake her up at first so we just filmed it with her asleep? Best move we made there. She really does sleep like the dead." Jennie grinned.

"Oh, yeah, you're right!" Sharon laughed.

"You guys are always picking on me!" Amy tried to pout believably, but wound up laughing instead.

"Oh, my goodness, look!" Jennie pointed at the screen suddenly and almost stood up. "There's Betsy's car!" She turned to Perri, who was on the other side of her from Amy, "Betsy was lost in Toronto for *days*, looking for either the filming or the way back to Don's place, where we stayed!" she explained through giggles, "by the time we actually found her again she'd passed by quite a few of the scenes we were filming without finding us. She was just plain confused when we pried her out of that car!"

"Yes, I think she was in it for most of the time she was missing," Valerie put in from Amy's other side, "she was sore for days. I'm just glad she was OK when we found her!"

They all fell silent again as the scene shifted. Jennie scooted back down in her seat, mentally cursing herself for practically making a spectacle of herself *again.* There really was little point in trying to hide, she wasn't any good at it.


Credit Where Credit Is Due
by Tara LJC O'Shea

Nat looked up at the sound of feet, and smiled as Nick appeared on the other side of the bars.

"Hey, stranger," she got up off the bed, running a hand through her hair, pointlessly really, it did what it wanted. But it was habit.

"I talked to Grace, and I think we have a lead on that credit card receipt. They checked your balance, and the charge is there--"

"I've never been in that place in my life."

"I know, I know, so I had a handwriting analysis done."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours."

"Great. This is just great. So now what?"

"Did you sign anything unusual yesterday? See anyone who didn't belong there?"

"I was so preoccupied... I mean, with Captain Stonetree... Maybe."

"Think, Nat. This is important."

"I think that reminder is a little unnecessary, don't you?" She ran her hand across the bars, and Nick flinched.

"I'm sorry, this wouldn't be happening..."

"Oh, don't start with the guilt thing, okay? Let me concentrate." She closed her eyes, trying to remember the hectic afternoon Stonetree's body was brought in. "There was an intern with some forms, I don't know..." She shook her head. "It was just forms."

"This intern, did she look familiar?"

"I don't think so. Blue eyes, auburn hair, kinda plain. Lab coat, you know, I don't think I knew her. I didn't blink, I guess."

"Did she have a name?"

"Danielle something, I think. Like two first names. Kaye. Danielle Kaye."

Nick chewed on this bit of information for a moment, and then stopped in his tracks as he realized exactly what he'd just heard. "Dani Kaye. Of course."

"What...? The actor?"

"No, the girl. My blender!"

"Nick, should I be understanding this?"

"She's one of Janette's. *Janette* planted the receipt." He squeezed her hand through the bars, and gave her a peck on the forehead, and then headed for the door.

"Nick!" Nat called after him, but he was gone.

* * *

Janette held her head high as she entered her club, still furious at the games she had been forced to play at the station. The line-up had been the final straw, she hadn't really cared before who was framing her, or why. She just knew they wouldn't succeed, and even if they did, she certainly wasn't going to bother with mortal's abstract concepts of law, she would simply leave.

She would leave.

Leave Nichola.

Leave her club.

Of course she would, wouldn't she?

She slammed the door of her office, and was not at all surprised to find Tara asleep on her couch. She stared at her until she awakened.

"This is not a flop house." Janette frowned.

"Not unless you have fangs, eh? Well, as I'm sure you noticed, I had booked an hotel room. However, seeing as how I've spent perhaps all of three hours there, on account of I am constantly being summoned here, I figured I'd just cut out a step. How'd it go?"

"Go?"

"I thought you'd be happy to know that the police received an anonymous tip that who they were looking for was right under their nose. I imagine by now the dear Doctor is watching her flat be searched." Tara briefly explained her actions that night, and with each incident, Janette let more of the anger drain out of her, to be replaced by a sly smile and glimmer of delight in her blue eyes.

Purposefully, she removed the returned choker from her jewelry box, and put it on. "Just to be sure no one tries to take it again."

"Now, we must find out who took it in the first place, and tried to frame you. It was a flimsy frame, to be sure. Makes me wonder just how serious the culprit might have been."

"Or how intelligent."

"Precisely."

At that moment, a furious Nick Knight yanked open the door, eyes flashing angry red.

"What have you done?" He grasped Janette's shoulders.

"What, to your mortal pet? Nothing that hadn't already been done to me," she hissed, breaking free of his hold.

Tara cleared her throat, and Nick noticed her for the first time. "Credit where credit is due, dear."

"Nichola, have you met my... Associate?"

The blue eyes must have been contact lenses, he noted, as her eyes were brown behind her glasses. He remembered her with black hair, as well. Quite the chameleon, no wonder Nat hadn't recognized her. "Miss Dani Kaye, I presume?"

At that, Janette raised a brow, a bemused smile crossing her face. Tara's eyes danced.

"Yes. I needed a diversion, Nat was there, I took advantage," Tara replied, completely unconcerned at how ruthless it could sound. But it was the truth, an unkind truth perhaps, but the truth.

"They arrested her," Nick growled.

"She has no motive, they'll let her go, and it bought us time." Tara shrugged off his anxiousness, and was shocked as he took a step towards her, eyes flashing.

"No motive? Then kindly explain to me the letters you burned in her grate? The letters that to all appearances connect her to Joe Stonetree in some kind of illicit love affair? The hat?" Nick grasped Tara's forearms, and the threat was there, even muted. The threat of violence if any harm came to his precious doctor.

"What the hell are you talking about? I planted a cat hair, and a credit card receipt, and made a phone call. That was it. *Let me go*." The last three words were filled with such rancor that Nick automatically opened his hands. Tara stepped out of his shadow, thought better of what her anger would like her to say, and instead left, her hands balled into fists. Nick watched her go, and sighed.

"If she didn't plant them, that means someone else did," Nick's anger began to drain away as his thoughts moved with vampiric speed, putting the pieces together. "Most likely the same person who tried to frame you, except he, or she, has done a far better job of it with Nat."

"LaCroix," Janette said softly.

"LaCroix. And he's far too clever to make this easy for us. I can't begin to guess at his game, but I will not allow me and mine to be pawns, and that is exactly what we all are in this game." Nick began to pace.

"If I will play this game, I will not play it as a pawn," Janette laid a hand on Nick's shoulder. "What I do to keep this club, my club, is necessary. I will not let it be used, let myself be used, as a weapon in you and our sire's fights, so do not be surprised at anything I do, cherie."

"If it is LaCroix--" Nick began, and Janette laughed derisively.

"If."

"Then I will deal with him."

"I've seen you 'deal' with him before, cherie, and we both know how well that turned out. I have no great love for our sire at present, and neither do many of my Ravens, don't be a fool and throw away potential allies."

"I'll keep that in mind." Nick reached out to caress Janette's cheek. "I'm sorry you had to be involved in this, cherie."

"Hmmm. You are sorry. This is something new?" He caressed her jaw, his lips brushing her neck, and he drew back, noticing the choker for the first time.

"Fashion or not, it suits you." He smiled, and kissed her lightly.

"Go, go talk to your Captain Cross," she waved him away. "And Nichola?"

"Yes?"

"I'd apologize to her if I were you. She has a long memory, for a mortal. And she has proved herself quite invaluable to me, I would hate to lose her. After all, she was only trying to protect me."

* * *

"Miki, am I deluded?" Tara stirred her gin and tonic, and then licked the plastic swizzle stick before laying it on the cocktail napkin and raising the glass to her lips.

"How so, deluded?" Like a good bartender, Miklos continued to set the clean glasses away, waiting for her to spill out her story at her own speed.

"In my more self-obsessed moments, I feel under-appreciated. It's just that sometimes, I wonder why I bother at all. He makes me so angry."

"He?"

"The *detective*" if the noun could be made a curse, it just had. "Honestly, I can understand what she sees in him, but sometimes, that doesn't make it any easier."

"Do you really want things to be easy?"

"I suppose not. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if things were easy. I suppose I thrive on challenges." She set the empty glass down, watching the ice cubes shift, enjoying the sound they made. She fumbled for a cigarette, and Miklos produced a silver lighter. She drew the smoke into her lungs, and then let it go slowly, sighing.

"I think that I just need some sleep. Or at the very least, a hot shower and a good meal."

"That I think we can provide," Janette came up behind her, setting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Go upstairs, relax, gather your thoughts. You are no good to anyone so tense."

"Yes ma'am," Tara was surprised, but grateful. Such...care for a mortal was almost atypical, though it could be said Janette was simply protecting her assets. Stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray, she slipped off the stool and headed towards the stairs.

"Wait!" Nick called out as she started up the stairs, and Tara turned, unable to keep her hands from tightening on the railing. "Please," he said, and her shoulders loosened just a little.

"Can I help you, Detective?"

"What I said in the office... What I did, it was wrong. I was acting without knowing all the facts, and I took out my frustration on you."

"I never do anything, Detective, unless it can be fixed." Tara shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and gripped the railing tighter. "I never meant Nat harm, she truly was just a diversion."

"I know, and I wanted to... Frankly, to thank you for doing what you did for Janette, it was really very clever."

"Careful, you're getting patronizing, that doesn't bode well in an apology." Tara smiled slyly as she shook her finger, a good bit of her anger draining away.

"Um... I don't even know your real name," Nick looked a little sheepish, and Tara couldn't help but laugh. "It's not Dani Kaye."

"No, it's not. Goodness, I've had so many names over the years. You can call me LJC if you like, most people around here do. You can call me Tara, or you can even call me Johanna Shea, it's one of them as well."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Any relation...?"

"That's for me to know, Detective. Good-night." Smiling, she continued up the stairs, leaving the bemused vampire shaking his head as he disappeared back out into the night, with his job cut out for him.


END PART FOUR

[NatPack War4 Stories]