Case
File # 2407 - Blitzkrieg
Part II
From: Agent Chase Williams
I sat in bed, wide awake, just staring at the ceiling.
Sabalore had called me with the news, I was in complete shock .I was new to this department, but SAC Zeuty had helped my transition in my first case.
I remembered the night I heard a fellow classmate had died during high school. I didn't know him very well, but he had been in my classes. I felt angry, angry at my my fellow students for acting as though things were normal at school, angry at the world. He had his life ahead of him. At the funeral, his mother just held my hand and asked me to pray for him....I tried to be strong for her but tears streamed down my face.
Now I want to be strong for my fellow agents, those who were close to agent Zeuty, friends. But I am so bitter at the injustice. It can't be right to take people so young, with such promise, away forever. Forever.
I want to support and console the other agents, but I can barely help myself. I promised myself, as I stared at the dark ceiling, to move on from my emotions, and help those who need me.
I can't stop the memories, though. Of getting calls in the middle of the night, calls I wished I'd never answered, as thought that would have changed anything. Memories of every person, who had ever been taken away, hit me and tears fell hard, and unwillingly, fading into my sheets.
From: Agent Samantha Jaythree
<<It was a lovely place. Calm. Peaceful. I could hear the birds singing, the whisper of leaves rustling in gentle spring breezes, and -- if I tried to hear it -- maybe the sound of a swift stream, water rushing along a bed or rocks and falls.
<<There might have been another sound, but I really couldn't hear it. I felt lighter than air, and trying to identify that other sound took too much effort. I didn't want to work right now. I was so delighted with this sense of being free and floating.
<<Once, perhaps twice, I started to have a bad dream. The skies above me had darkened, and the clouds had loomed ominously large and black. At one point, I almost had a nightmare where I was trapped -- inside myself -- in a hospital, but I had quickly learned to escape that dream. It was so easy, I simply slipped outside myself, outside my body, and then all the bad sights and sounds and feelings would disappear.
<<Now I was simply floating, and it was wonderful. I could see roses, tulips, and the flowers and foliage of spring and summer mixing together with the splendor of autumn leaves hanging heavy on the trees. I couldn't remember how I had reached this place, and I didn't know how to leave it.
<<Then again, why would anyone want to leave a place as beautiful and serene as this endless sunny day?>>
From: Agent Kiwi Malone
I was having trouble buttoning my shirt, my fingers just didn't seem to be moving properly. I tried for the third time, then leaned forwards against my bathroom sink. <no crying, not until you get there.> Whatever tone of voice my mental drill sergeant was using, it was a resounding failure. Fat tears poured from my eyes, and I gripped the basin edge until mu knuckles whitened. There was a soft tap at the bathroom door.
'Kiwi? Everything OK?' It was Craig, his voice still a little strained. The last couple of days had been hard on everyone. I had filed the case this morning, a few Agents had signed on already. Later today, we would have our first breifing. Today. I couldn't imagine getting from one end to the other of it, let alone running a case.
'I'm fine.' My voice was ragged and thick. The door opened, and Craig stepped in. 'We should leave, it's-' He stopped, his eyes taking in my open shirt, the tears. 'Hey, come on.' He turned me around, buttoned my shirt swiftly. Then he wiped my face, pulled me close and just held me. 'You can do this, Sara would kick your behind for losing it.'
I laughed, he was right. 'Oh god, imagine being haunted by her.' It was a thin attempt, but it worked. I took his hand and went out to to the car.
***************************************************************
Holy Trinity Church
3513 N St NW
Washington DC
Sara's sister, Maggie, had arranged the service. It was a little more heavy on the religious side than I imagined Sara would have chosen. But then, I guessed funerals were as much for the living as the dead.
It was a closed casket. Mahogany, silver handles, white lilys. The church was full of Agents. Everyone looked shell shocked. I sat in a pew, holding onto Craig's arm, feeling like a bad dream had taken over my life and showed no sign of letting me wake. By the time we had all made it to the cemetary, people's grief had really set in. I moved away after throwing some earth onto the casket, and stood alone. Closure, I thought, was unthinkable. I didn't want closure, I wanted my friend back. I wanted whoever had done this to be lying in that grave instead. I heard footsteps and turned to face a tall man, mid-forties. He extended a hand for me to shake, his grey eyes serious.
'ASAC Malone? I'm Ray Brown, Maggies husband.'
'Yes, I'm...I'm sorry for your loss.' I inwardly groaned. Who the hell taught us to say that? It was painfully inadequate.
He was businesslike. Despite myself, I found my investigators mind ticking. Maybe he and Sara hadn't gotten along. 'Well, I just wanted to make myself known. I was told you were the Agent in charge of the investigation.'
'Yes, I'll keep you informed of course-'
I stopped as he waved to someone approaching. I glanced in the direction of the figure and the blood drained from my face. It was Sara-. Then I corrected myself. It was Maggie. <god, they are so alike, she even walks like her>.
She was wearing dark glasses. Her face was pinched and pale. I knew that she and Sara had been estranged, and supposed that it made the situation worse in many ways.
'This is Maggie.' Ray introduced her as she stood beside him, arms folded. The body language spoke volumes. This wasn't a happy marriage, I thought. 'Maggie, this is Agent Malone.'
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Ray spoke again, searching for appropriate small talk. 'We were meant to be leaving for a vacation today. We hike a lot. Fitness freaks.' He stopped, aware of how odd it sounded. I watched Maggie. She moved in suddenly, and took by surprise by hugging me tightly.
'Thank-you for what you said, at the service.' Her voice was a soft whisper. She even sounded like Sara. She hadn't read the Eulogy, She'd asked Jadzia to do it, so it was the only time I had heard her speak.
'You're welcome,' I said, as she pulled out of the embrace. They left, heading to the wake. I sighed and glanced at my watch. I would have to go to the office. I saw Scham wave and went over to him. He was talking quietly with Craig.
'Kiwi, I wanted to ask if I could skip the meeting, I want to check in on Samantha, make sure the guards are-'
'Sure.' I cut him off. We had Samantha under twenty four seven, but I think Scham had been haunting their every move. 'Scham, I spoke to the doctor earlier, she's doing well. They may even move her out of ICU later today.' She would be devastated to have missed this, I thought. 'I'll fill you in on the briefing, but try to make it for the last part, the Agents we have watching her are good Scham, I promise.' He nodded tiredly and walked to his car.
We would have a morale problem, I realised. Time for me to put all this emotion inside and get people working. I looked at Craig. 'Lets get this started then.'
We moved to the car, his hand on my shoulder. As we were pulling away, he glanced at me.
'Was that Sara's sister?'
'Yeah, spooky huh?'
'I looked over, and for a second I thought-'
'It was her? I know. Me too. He's the brother in law. They don't strike me as a happy couple.'
'Why?'
'Just a hunch. Plus, he mentioned they were fitness freaks. And when she hugged me, I smelled cigarettes.' I looked out the window. She had looked like she had secrets, and I made a mental note to contact her in a day or two. Maybe she knew something that would help. For now, I had to find something for the team to do, and with exactly no clues so far, and no witnesses, that was going to take some creative leadership techniques.
From: Agent Jadzia Reyes
Delivering the eulogy at Sara's funeral was almost too much for me to bear. I had forced myself to focus on the stark black and white of the words on the paper in front of me so that I wouldn't break down in front of everyone there. The toughest part was putting emotion into my voice when I was trying so hard to block out my feelings, to put them aside until I could be alone.
It had been horrifying, getting Kiwi's call about Samantha. I had immediately called Ellie and FoxPhile and alerted them to the situation. I had tried calling Sara next, but her machine had picked up at home and I had gotten her voicemail when I called her cell. When that happened, somehow I had just known. The leaden feeling in my gut had told me that something was wrong, even though it was possible that Sara had just left her house and turned off her cell phone.
When I got to Sara's apartment, I had found my friend on the floor, covered in blood and bruises. The ambulance was merely a formality. There was no way that anyone could have survived that gunshot wound.
Something in me had shut down after that -- after hearing them pronounce her in the hospital. It was like I couldn't feel a thing. The only way that I knew Sara's death was affecting me was when I saw my hand shaking as I tried to fill out the forms at the hospital. Even then it was like I was watching someone else's hand tremble. I had even managed to calm down Kiwi and say something appropriately reassuring, I guess. To be honest, I have no idea what I said. I don't even remember how I got home that night.
Now that the service was over, though, it was like my protective shell had gone into the ground with Sara. As soon as people started filing away, I left, needing to get away from all of the well-meaning people with their well-meaning words. Turning my back on them, I walked across the gray-green carpet of grass to a spot I knew all too well. I knew that someone would be trailing me, but I didn't really give a damn by now.
I reached the spot I was looking for and brushed some errant leaves off the top of the headstone, reading the familiar words and dates, tracing them with my finger. Kneeling, I rested my head against the top of the stone and let the tears flow, finally letting myself grieve.
I didn't know how much time had passed before I felt a hand touch my shoulder. Looking up through tear-blurred eyes, I saw Mulder. I knew that he would see me leave the funeral. I knew that he would understand exactly where I was headed and that he would follow me. I wondered how long he had stood back and waited, allowing me to have the time I needed before he approached me.
Mulder didn't say a word when I looked up at him. He knelt beside me, his soft hazel eyes full of understanding. One arm rested next to mine on top of the headstone, the other one stayed on my shoulder for a moment longer until he reached over and gently brushed my hair away from my face.
I closed my eyes as more tears came. Mulder's hand returned to my shoulder and he waited with me until the tears slowed. Finally, I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to pull myself together. When I opened my eyes and raised my head, Mulder gave me a sad smile and asked if I wanted to go. I didn't trust my voice, so I simply nodded.
We were silent for most of the car ride home. I was grateful that Mulder had offered to drive to the service that day. We were idling at a red light when I said my first words since delivering Sara's eulogy.
"It just felt so familiar, Fox". My voice was still unsteady.
Mulder looked at me, his eyes still filled with understanding. "I know," he said. I felt his warm hand cover mine and hold it tight. "But this time we'll catch them. They won't get away with it Jadzi".
His hand stayed with mine the rest of the way home.
From: Agent Cathy Baker
I heard when I came into work that day.
I hadn't planned on going in, but I had a few things that needed my attention.
There was a note on my desk in the bullpen. Shaky handwriting, words jumping menacingly into my brain. The bullpen was deserted. They were probably all huddled in one of the other offices consoling each other.
I didn't even think about joining them. I merely grabbed some of the materials I needed and left quietly. I took the stairs. I didn't want anyone to know I'd even been there.
The day of the funeral I packed a few things and checked into the DC Comity. Whenever I worked a case it was never from my everyday location. Long years of covert ops had taught me a lot of valuable lessons about anonimity.
I hung back at the funeral service as well as at the gravesite. I didn't feel I deserved to be among the mourners. I'd not known her well enough to make the regard in which I held her public. Her easy manner, her million watt smile, her twisted sense of humor and her complete dedication to the j-o-b....better to leave the grief and loss of those to the others. For the first time in a long and confusing life I felt real regret at not getting close to another human being.
The others stepped up to throw their sad little puffs of dirt on her coffin. Empty gestures. Empty words.
I walked back to my car before anyone could engage me in conversation. I wouldn't be going to the wake. That,too, was for her real friends.
From: Agent Sabalore Smith
I adjusted my black skirt, and checked my makeup, wiping at the little bit of so called 'waterproof' mascara that had dropped down my cheeks, before stepping out of the car for the funeral.
I fidled with my ring as I entered the church. I immeaditly saw the cluster of Agents, and I headed over, sliding silently into a seat.
It was strange, being here at a friend and coworkers funeral, when only a few days ago we'd both been dealing with a giant duck.
I could barely listen as Jadzia deleveried the eulogy, trying to figure out what went wrong. Why the dark had won, and we had lost.
At the cemetary, I gently tossed a handful of dirt onto the grave, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
I whispered a good bye, and begain to leave, when I ran into some of the agents who'd been on the last case with myself and Sara.
We began re telling, going overthe case, of how she'd chucked the duck at Skinner, joked about how if she saw a shrink, he'd probably need his own.
I could hear other agents doing the same. I turned around, and spotted Sara. I jumped, then realized it must have ben her sister. I'd known she had one, but never realized how alike they looked.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, as it splashed off my face and hit the gound. More wereto come later, I was sure of that, but now I needed to try to be strong.
For myself. For Sara. For everyone.
From: Agent Elisheva Toews
I visited Samantha before Sara's funeral service. The sight of her looking so pale and helpless disturbed me, but not as much as the night we got the call telling us she had been shot.
Skinner and I were just walking out the door of my home to have a quiet dinner together when his cell phone rang. Jadzia gave him the news, and I could tell by the look on his face it wasn't good.
No sooner had he hung up and started giving me the details than my phone rang. It was Jadzia, rehearsing the same story. I thanked her and told her I was on my way to the hospital.
Even once we had arrived at the hospital and I saw her still body lying on the table in the distance, I couldn’t believe that Sara was gone. Sara hadn't made it. Everyone was devastated at the news and even Skinner felt the lose deeply, though I was certain Sara never would have believed it. She had always been the one who was not afraid to tease me about being Anal Retentively Challenged. It had been a running joke, and I was going to miss it.
For reasons known only to Him, God had let Samantha survive. She and I had gotten to be good friends over the past several weeks. She was the first of my fellow agents to make the effort to become a friend. Someone more than just an agent that shared the sub-basement with me. I was grateful for that.
I found myself thankful that one life had been spared and bitter than one had been taken. And two days later, I found myself sitting quietly, filled with mixed emotions as I listened to Jadzia give Sara's eulogy. She said all the right words, was funny in all the right places. I looked around at my fellow Y-Files agents. Everyone looked distraught. So many of us had faced danger and death, but they had never won before. We were always the victors, but this time one of us had lost.
Skinner was sitting in the pew directly behind me, but I wished that I had his strong shoulder to lean on. A part of me wanted to give in to the grief I felt, but I knew Sara would have hated it if I was a blubbering idiot. So today there were no tears for me to cry. They would come later. Grief and I were strange bedfellows...we didn't take the normal steps that were described in the pamphlets that the Bureau shrink handed out after Sara's death...to help us deal with our loss. I went which ever way the wind blew and just hoped for the best, but today I was determined not to cry in front of the others.
At the cemetery, we all tossed our handfuls of dirt on Sara's grave and said our final good byes. It was one of the hardest things some of us had ever done. And it was the closeness we had developed over the months working in the Y-Files that helped us through it.
After the graveside service, I walked a distance away from the crowd and looked around. Everyone had splintered off into groups, each I was certain telling their favorite SaraZ story...rubber duckies, driving on the sidewalk in NY or catching the bad guys in Oakland. The memories made us feel better.
I watched as Skinner approached Sara’s sister and brother-in-law. I was certain that he was offering his condolenses to her family, but judging by the way that Maggie had walked off, she wasn’t impressed with what he had said. I’d have to ask him just exactly what he had said to deserve that kind of reaction. He turned, looking somewhat puzzled by her reation, and joined Mulder and Scully who stood several yards off.
Not wanting to spend too much time in silent reverie, I walked over and joined them.
"You doing okay Elisheva?" Scully asked, her face looking concerned.
"Yea." I looked around again at the other agents. "It's just...difficult." A heavy sigh escaped me.
"We should be going." Skinner's voice held no terseness today. His hand innocently slipped behind my back and we walked to our cars in silence.
From: Agent Kiwi Malone
The office was quiet. A few of the Agents assigned to the case filtered in. Most of the others had gone to ray and maggies place for the wake.
Johnson was already in the conference room, he stood and gave my hand a quick squeeze. I stood and looked at the assembled group once they had arrived. I knew more agents would help, but for now, this was the core team. Jadzia, Elisheva, Johnson, Willmore, Baker, Sabalore and myself. Scham was still at the hospital with Samantha.
'OK, I'll keep this short. I know most of us want to go to the wake, so here's the plan.'
I started to outline the points on the whiteboard as I spoke. 'There are so few leads. But someone, somewhere must have seen or heard something.' I turned to the group. 'We start first thing in the morning.' I held up my hand at the murmur of protest. 'I know, you all want to get going now. But it's important to let today be what it is. Go to the wake, say your goodbyes.'
'Eli, Jadzia, I want you to canvass Sara's neighbourhood. Start at the market near her building. I got a call earlier from a woman who works there.' I checked my notes, 'A Millie Adler. She starts work at seven am.'
'What did she see?' It was Jadzia. She looked tired, this murder had touched nerves in all of us, I thought. Raised old ghosts.
'Basically she said she saw Sara collapse in the market, with a basket full of peaches. I told her we'd come and talk to her. It may be nothing, but it's a place to start. Then I want you to do the usual. Neighbours, local stores.'
They nodded and I turned to Baker. 'I want you to check all of Sara's accounts, computer records. See if there's been any unusual activity. Run it by Scham when he gets in, you may as well work together.'
'Johnson, you and Sabalore should start pulling all of Sara and Samantha's case files. Look for anything that could lead to a grudge, especially on any cases they worked as a team.' My cellphone beeped, and I paused to take it.
'Kiwi.'
'Agent Malone? It's Ray Brown. I need to talk to you.'
I was instantly intrigued. 'What about?'
'Well, its something best talked about in person, can you drop by? Tomorrow?'
'I'll be there at nine, is that too early? I'm coming to the wake, we could-'
'No, not then. This is a personal matter. Nine is fine.'
I hung up, looked at the team. 'OK, I will be going to see Ray Brown first thing. Willmore, you can interview all of Samantha's and my neighbours. I'll join you after my meet.'
There was moment's silence in the room, then everyone started to stand, make a move. I was relieved to see that the provision of tasks had given them all a little energy. This would be a tough case. I wanted to stop by the hospital on the way, check on Samantha.
I headed to the parking garage with the others, wondering what exactly Ray Brown wanted to talk about privately. It would have to wait. Tonight, I had a date with a few whiskey's and some fond memories.
From: Agent Cathy Baker
I was surprised to find a group of agents already at the JEH building. The bullpen held fresh coffee and Kiwi was taking her place in front of the whiteboard. Kiwi began to speak. Pretty normal stuff, interviews, canvassing. Then she looked at me and said ....."accounts and computer records". My heart sank. Aside from using the computer as a typewriter at work, I never touch one, and I wouldn't know "unusual activity" if it came up and bit my butt.
I nodded solemnly to Kiwi as if I knew what she was talking about and prayed that Agent Scham knew his was around a hard drive.
From: Agent Mathew Johnson
Sabalore and I were assigned to look over Jaythree and Zeuty's prior case files. The idea was to try to find some link that would lead us to the killer or killers, but it wasn't going to be easy. Agents Zeuty's death and Agent Jaythree's injuries were hitting home pretty hard. It's hard when you lose a fellow agent; worse when you lose two. It was ironic that we had just recently saved Agent Malone from being killed only to lose one, possibly two, of our team mates. Irony was cruel.
I looked at Sabalore. Some of the other Agents, the ones that knew Agent Zeuty and Agent Jaythree best, were still in a process of grief which is understandable. For me it was time to focus all of those feelings into one area and concentrate on catching these bastards. Perhaps tucking my emotions away wasn't the smartest idea, but it had worked for me before and helped me get the job done.
"Where do we begin?" I said as I looked at Agent Smith.
"We start looking at their cases. We'll start with the most recent ones and work our ways back. We need to look at each case they were on especially if they were on the same one. This may take awhile." Sabalore began looking through the cases, and she hadned me one.
"I need to know something." I asked Sabalore. "Two Agents, in the same division, gunned down on the same day around the same time." I shook my head. "This thing looks like a hit. I need to know if they or any of you have enemies."
Sabalore looked at me. "We all have enemies. Sometimes we just do know them. If your on the Y-Files you seem to always have an over-abundance of enemies. Some weak and some..."
"Powerful? I always heard that Y-Files Agents were overly paraniod, but I have to admit that, after seeing some of the Y-files cases, I don't blame you all." I took a sip of my coffee and began to think. <Who could do this.> I thought. "If this was a hit, it was done by pros. The fact that know one saw anything suggests someone knew what they were doing. The presence of professionals usually suggests some sort of large criminal organization: la cosa nostra, the Russain Mafia, the drug cartels."
"Or maybe something more powerful." Sabaore said. Her face looked worried.
<What does she mean?> I wondered. Whatever it was, I didn't like the sound of it at all.
From: Karsten Keuchler
I was absolutely shocked. I was phoned that day and told about the tragic happenings. Well, I didn´t know her really but it´s hard to hear about the sudden death of a person you´ve just got to know some days before. My conscience was pricking me up because I didn´t come to the office the last days. I was simply too busy with my removal from Seattle to Washington. Of course I had to come to the office in order to help disclosing the secret of the events. And so I did...
After a long and exhausting drive I finally arrived and entered the office.
"Hello," I said carefully.
Agent Johnson and Sabalore were looking at me. They were neither showing any emotions nor giving an answer. So I added...
"I heard what´s happened. Though I only know her from the case of the rubber duckies I must express my heartfelt condolences."
The two nodded which showed me that they agreed.
"I would like to help you find out who the f*** has done that. Have you already an idea?"
"No, unfortunately not. But I guess she´s fallen a victim to a very powerful organisation," Sab answered quietly.
"I understand. During my time at the Seattle FBI I learned that there are men you can´t find in no books.Men that don´t have names, who have their own rules. If it´s them who killed her..."
From: Agent Samantha Jaythree
<<There was a butterfly in front of me. Its large yellow wings with black stripes -- a tiger swallowtail -- I wanted to smile as I recognized its familiar colors and shape. Perched on the lilac blossoms of some flower which I did not know, I realized that I was floating again. I wanted to fly with the butterfly.
<<Voices? The beautiful swallowtail started to flutter, then rise, and I wanted to follow along, but the voices...I knew them...but where were they? For just once in my life, I wanted to do the rude thing and ignore the voices. They didn't belong here, something deep inside me protested. How did I know these voices?
<<There it was again, a familiar voice - don't go - a hand, and I felt myself slipping back into the nightmare place of dark clouds and pain. No, no, no, I wanted to shake my hand free, but I couldn't, so I slipped outside my body again to the light and lovely feeling of floating with the butterfly.
<<Where had it gone? I looked around the sunny meadow. As a child, I had spent every summer with my grandparents, on their large farm in the foothills of east Tennessee. Summer was a glorious season where the days seemed endless and the nights were mere preludes to the joys of another morning. This place was not the same, and yet it was similar...and if I looked hard enough among the blossoms...and the wild roses...
<<Yes, there was the butterfly, enjoying a moment's rest on a willow branch beside the moving stream of water. I wanted to follow it and ignore the voices, but my heart felt torn inside my chest. If I turned to see the voices, I knew I would lose sight of the beautiful butterfly.
<<If I ignored the voices, though, I would lose something as well. I was confused for I couldn't imagine what I could possibly lose that I wouldn't gain from following the butterfly, but still...I felt a moment of uncertainty and indecision...should I continue? Should I stay?
<<A cloud passed briefly overhead, dimming the sun, before it was swiftly blown on by the wind. I reached a compromise within myself. I would stay a moment longer and listen for the voices, perhaps they weren't even talking to me? Resting quietly here in the meadow as the butterfly did on its perch, I instinctively realized that unless there were some reason to remain, then when the butterfly rose to continue its journey, I would follow.>>
From: Agent Samuel Padilla
I entered Samantha's room quietly. There she was. I couldn't believe it. I approached and kissed her. Then I pulled a chair and sat beside her bed. <She, she, she> That was the one and only thought in my mind. I held her hand and laid my head on her abdomen.
"Sam, please" I whispered "I love you, don't go."
From: Agent Mike Piontek
I pulled up to the cemetary in my beat-up blue-green Taurus. I was surprised it had made it. It could barely make it to work and back. But I kind of knew, that when I needed it to, it could drive for days.
The gates were closed. It was late. Midnight.
<<Why do I always have to be late?>>
I switched off the lights and got out of the car. I never switched off the lights.
"They go off automatically."
It was a cold night.
<<It was so warm, earlier...>>
I stepped over to the gate, turned around, slid my back down it, sat on the ground. And looked up at the stars. I'd been driving since noon. Had a hard time finding the place. I'd arranged to stay with my brother and his fiancee for a few days, and...
<<I should give him a call. He's probably...>>
The thought faded.
<<Ah. He knows I'm... alright.>>
I closed my eyes. I reached in my pocket and fumbled around past my keys and folded up pieces of paper that had been in there for months. I found what I was looking for and pulled it out and looked at it.
A radish.
I pictured myself at the funeral, if I'd made it in time. Tossing it into the grave, just before the dirt piled on top of it, on top of... on top of Sara. Her casket. The person standing next to me glared at me. A fellow agent? I didn't know. I'd never met any of her fellow agents. She glared at me, as if I was laughing or dancing or enjoying this. Like she didn't see the anger I was biting back. I looked her in the eye.
"She... She liked radishes. A lot."
I would have said.
And cried.
Instead I just sat there, against the gate, cold, pulling my scarf tighter around my neck and wishing I wasn't so insistent on wearing this thin leather jacket I'd gotten from my father. I held up the radish in the starlight, and just looked at it.
I took a bite.
<<Yeah...>> I thought, <<I didn't think I liked these.>>
I chewed it anyway, swallowed. I ate the whole thing. It wasn't so bad. I looked up at the moon and felt a tear fall from my face. And another.
<<Sara...>> I screamed, silently, and I laughed at myself for this, because it seemed like... like a bad song; it all seemed like a poem I'd written in high school. My face was wet and I didn't know what to feel. I never knew what to feel. I pictured rain, falling down on me, here, and I laughed again.
I sighed.
She had been, undoubtedly, my closest friend. That person I could tell anything; that person that knew me so well that I'd often wanted to ask her how to feel. Whether she knew it or not. I wanted to ask her how I should feel now.
<<Just cry...>>
"What?" I said aloud. I looked up, again, at the stars. They looked the same as they had been ten minutes ago; nearly the same as they had been two weeks ago, in Michigan. Two weeks ago...
A warm breeze curled around me.
<<Why do I always have to be late?>> I thought again. I leaned my head back, against the icy gate, and stared upward, listening to tears drip on my jacket. I let my eyes drift closed, but the stars... the stars were still there.
<<Just cry...>>
That was all I did. And when I was done, I got in the car, and drove to my brother's house, in Maryland. It wasn't far.
From: Agent Kiwi Malone
I was on my way to Maggie and Ray's early the next day. Willmore was going to meet me to canvass my own neighbours later. I had the feeling that Ray wanted a private chat.
The wake had been strained, several of the agents had ended up at Casey's until the small hours. A few had commented on Maggie's brief appearance, she seemed uncommunicative and distant. It was only natural though, we all dealt with grief differently. I had left early, wanting to be in good shape for work. After the case, I thought, I would make time to fall apart.
I pulled into the driveway of their Silver Springs home and walked up to the door. I hadn't really taken it in the night before, but now I found my detectives mind ticking over, forming an impression. Classic Home & Garden material, I thought, looking at the manicured lawns and well tended garden. It had no heart, it resembled a magazine picture too closely. Ray opened the door and showed me in. He was polite, urbane, charming. I hated him. I had no reason, but my instincts had served me well in the past, I filed it away and smiled as he offered me a coffee.
'Yes, thank-you.'
He turned and went to the kitchen doorway. 'Honey? Can we get some coffee?'
Interesting, I thought. It was a little fifties, the way he spoke. Not many men now would expect their wife to play hostess while she grieved for her dead twin. I glanced around the picture perfect room, stopping as I saw several silver picture frames on a piano. Most of them were pictures of Ray. Ray with a dead fish. Ray with a dead stag. Ray with a wife gripped tightly against his side, her head turned off camera, smile strained. Not one single picture of Sara.
I decided to get to the point. 'What did you want to talk about Mr Brown?'
He sat opposite me, making sure to pull his pants legs up a litlle so they didn't crease. I got the feeling he was a neat freak, and that he didn't do the housework himself. God help the someone that did, I thought. 'Please, call me Ray.' His smile was wide. 'Well, its a little embarrassing. But I wondered if you could swing a favour for Maggie.'
'A favour?'
He smiled broadly, his tone a little condescending. 'She got a speeding ticket, and well, I hoped you could get it to-' he made a gesture with his hands, of something flying away.
Interesting. 'Well, I can't really influence the Washington PD, I can make a couple of calls. Do you have the ticket?'
He nodded, and stood to get it from the bureau. 'It's really such a bad time for Maggie. I understand if you can't help, but I told her I'd take care of it.'
'One of the Agents has a friend on the force, I'll run it past him.' I had no intention of doing so, as far as I was concerned, speeding tickets were issued for a reason. But I was hoping to talk to Maggie. Alone. He passed me the ticket just as she entered. I felt the same stab of recognition when I saw her.
She set the tray down and moved off without speaking. Ray glanced at me and smiled, 'Excuse me, Agent.' He followed her out of the room, and I tried not to eavesdrop as their voices floated towards me. It sounded like a terse exchange.
I looked at the ticket, then frowned. This was issued the night Sara had been killed. Less than a mile from her apartment. I felt cold suddenly. They lived clear across DC from her. There was no reason for Maggie to be over there, unless. I bit my lip. As soon as I got back to the office, I would need to do a search to see if Ray had a gun license.
I stood up. Thought fast. 'Ray?' I called out, I didn't really to bust in an a domestic situation, I preferred that he thought I had swallowed the happy families routine.
The door swung open. 'I think I can do something about this, but I need to ask Maggie a few questions. In private.'
He looked at me, his mouth opened to protest, but I kept my professional face on. He didn't bother to speak. Maggie, however, looked like she wanted me to melt into a puddle. I spoke softly. 'Is there somewhere I can talk with you? It won't take long.'
She shrugged, then led the way to a den that was off the living room. It was full of guy stuff. Ray was a regular shoot 'em and stuff 'em kind of guy.
I leaned against the desk, keeping my voice level. 'OK, how about you tell me what you were doing over that side of town?
From: Agent Kiwi Malone
She didn't answer me, I could see her face working as she stared at the floor between her feet. I knew she was in grief, but every alarm bell in my head was clanging. She was hiding something, I was certain of it. I tried another tack.
'You and Ray get along OK?'
She muttered something under her breath that I didn't catch. She was amazingly like Sara, I thought. Except that Sara wouldn't be caught dead in a house like this, with a man like Ray. <Sara is dead>. The voice in my head floored me. I still thought of her in present tense. I gripped the edge of the desk harder and swuashed the tears that threatened back inside. 'Pardon me?'
'He's a pig.' She spat it out, crossed to the window. I watched her back intently. Amazing, what a back could tell you, the feelings revealed.
'Does he own a gun?'
She snorted, 'Look around, what do you think?'
I gazed at the hunting trophies. 'I meant a handgun. A 9mm, automatic.'
She stiffened, I saw her shoulder blades move as she tightened her arms across her chest. My mind had started to shift pieces of the puzzle together, searching for a pattern. It was possible, I reasoned, that Sara's murder, and
Samantha's near execution were a macabre coincidence. It didn't sit right, but something smelled in this household, and it wasn't the pine-fresh upholstery.
'Does he?'
'I wouldn't know.'
'So why were you over that side of town? Visiting Sara?'
'No. I went. I wanted to pick up some cheap linen. The stores here are too expensive.'
Like Ray would sleep on anything with a lower thread count than pure Egyptian Cotton, I thought. 'You went all the way over there, and didn't visit her?'
'She wasn't home.'
'So you did visit?'
I was getting to her, I thought, her hands worked. Something familiar about the way her thumb was rubbing between her index and middle finger. 'I called, she wasn't in.'
'What time?' I stared at her fingers, trying to place it.
'Time?'
'What time did you call? Was her machine on?'
'I, yes, around eleven thirty. I didn't leave a message.'
'There were no calls on her machine, she was pronounced dead at 1:23am. The time of the shooting was no earlier than midnight, and no later than 12:30am. You got the ticket at 12:15m.' I had it, I thought, that finger movement. I reached into my bag for cigarettes. I usually carried some, they came in handy with suspects.
'Want a cigarette?' I reached forward with the pack.
She turned automatically, her eyes flicked to the pack and back to mine, then darted away. 'I don't smoke.'
'Yes you do.' <I smelled smoke on you, at the funeral>. I kept my hand out. And no one, I thought, goes shopping for linen in the middle of the night.
She looked me in the eyes then, and I knew. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but I knew. My eyes widened, and my heart began to thump steadily. 'Sara?'
She turned again, to face the window. 'Get out.'
'Sara, I-' I stopped. This was crazy. I had lost it, what was I thinking? This was Maggie, not Sara. And she was in trouble, maybe she had seen something, something that made her afraid. 'Listen, come to the office with me, we can talk there and-'
She whirled on me, her voice strident. 'GET OUT! Do you hear me? This isn't your business. I'll pay for the damned ticket. Go out there and find the person who killed my sister!'
I tried to calm her, was moving towards her, arms outstretched, when ray burst in. 'Maggie?' He looked at her and then to me. I lowered my arms.
'I'm sorry, I'll let you know about the ticket.'
He showed me to the door, his mouth set. 'I apologise Agent Malone, she's under a lot of-'
'No, I pushed some raw nerves. It's entirely my fault.' I stood on the pathway for a moment, then turned to the den window, noticing the curtains flick back.
I knew she was watching, and I lifted my hand to my ear, miming a 'phone. I wrote my number on the inside of the cigarette pack, and put it in the letterbox. Looking to the window one last time, I went to the car. Halfway down the street, I had to pull over, the flood of tears made it impossible to see.
From: Agent Samantha Jaythree
<<I still refused to look back towards the voices, but I could hear them quite clearly behind me. Scham had been there -- I knew I had heard his voice. Kiwi's voice had been there more than once. I had definitely heard her talking to Craig. They all sounded so sad and upset, and I wondered why?
<<Look around you! I wanted to call to them, but then I would have had to turn around and leave my meadow...and I still wasn't sure if I wanted to do that or not. Look at this beautiful place where I am...how can you be sad in a place like this?
<<I heard Nathan, although I couldn't understand what he meant. It all sounded very medical and had nothing to do with me. I heard Elisheva, and once I even thought I heard AD Skinner himself. Funny, I mused, I never would have taken him for someone who liked to spend time in sunny meadows.
<<And then I saw someone coming towards me, walking slowly and confidently through the tall grasses and the waving flowers. I squinted, then smiled in recognition. It was my grandmother. I wanted to jump to my feet to greet her, but I somehow I realized that I shouldn't do this here.
<<I sat quietly until she reached me, and I smiled broadly as she sat down beside me, a small woman with many wrinkles from living so very long. She didn't speak, and neither did I, but we sat together in the meadow for awhile.>>
From: Agent Samuel Padilla
I couldn't stay all day here, though I'd like to. We have to catch whoever had done this. Sara was dead. Neither of us could change that. I would never forget the first time I had the opportunity to work with her: my first assignment at the Y Files division. I've liked her since the very beginning and, although none of us had said so, I felt there was a strong friendship between us. The girl appeared to be made of iron; and I liked that.
I called Kiwi. She informed me that I had been partenered up with Agent Baker and that we should work on... <did I hear well?> Informatics? I was a Biologist. Computers were useful but surely not my field. I was hoping Agent Baker would know more about them.
I left Samantha, promising I would be back at night. I would be here when she woke up.
While driving, a peculiar thought came directly to my mind. I still lived in New York and had some assignments there. I had only come here because of my friends. I didn't know how long I could be staying here... <Don't think about it> I said to myself <You'll be out of here as soon as you find the people who did this>.
I decided to start as soon as possible, so I headed to the JEHB. I couldn't reach Agent Baker on her cellphone, so I left her a message telling her to meet me there.
As soon as I arrived, I started looking for Sara's laptop, which had been brought here.
"Here it is" an agent said to me. I certainly didn't like what I saw. The laptop was completly destroyed... <Great!> I thought <Now what?>.
From: Agent Cathy Baker
I was sitting at Sara's desk staring at her computer...or what was left of it. Wires and thingys and jig-a-mabobs lay in desolation all over the top of her desk. The keyboard was broken in half, and the monitor appeared as if some giant foot had crushed it like a bug.
"Kind of a mess, huh?"
I turned and looked up. Agent Mulder towered above me.
"That's an understatement," I muttered. "I'm meeting my temporary partner here in a few minutes. We're supposed to go over Sara's stuff...the stuff that's in the computer...to see if there's been any 'suspicious' activity."
"Hmm. That's going to be a little difficult given the condition of the patient," he drawled. "Factor in your complete computer illiteracy and you have a big problem."
"Thanks for that brilliant clarification of the obvious."
He laughed and picked up Sara's phone. He schmoozed someone on the other end...female no doubt...then hung up.
"Agent Baker, you seem to forget you're in the FBI now. You never do your own work if you can have someone else do it for you. That was Elise Vanderhoff. She can have this bad boy spilling his guts in thirty seconds."
"Really? Thirty seconds? And she won't tell everyone how stupid I am?"
"Really. Thirty seconds, and she's never ratted me out yet. She's sending someone up right now."
I grinned my relief. "Agent Mulder, you're a Prince among men."
He grinned back and moved toward the door. "I'm running for King next election. I'd appreciate your vote."
I nodded and waved.
I checked my watch. Agent Scham was due to arrive any second. I scribbled a note to Elise, stuck it to the monitor, and moved to intercept my new partner.
I got to the elevator just as Scham was stepping off. I'd seen his picture in his personnel file, but nothing could have prepared me for the force of his personality. It hit me like a gust of warm wind.
"Agent Baker?" he asked, smiling.
"Agent Scham!" I said a little too heartily. I stuck out my hand and he took it. For one half a heartbeat I thought he might bend to kiss it, but he shook my hand firmly instead.
"Very nice to meet you," he said.
"Yes," I said stupidly. "I mean, nice to meet you, too. Why don't we go get some coffee and discuss the case before we go to the office? If we're gonna partner-up on this one, we should really get to know one another."
"Is there time?" he asked innocently.
"Of course," I said, taking his arm and leading him back into the elevator. "I've gotten most of the work done already. We just need to go over it together to make sure I haven't missed anything."
I heard a strangled noise behind me. I turned to see Mulder smiling at me.
"Fox Mulder," he said, shaking hands with Agent Scham. "I'll be your official escort for this elevator ride. Agent Baker has been known to abuse her elevator privileges."
Scham smiled back at Mulder. It was a bonding moment.
"In your ear, Mulder," I said in disgust.
Mulder left us at the third floor. Scham and I decided to get our coffee at the Starbuck's stand down in the lobby. I stalled him as long as I could, then consented to go back to Sara's office for a look at the computer.
Scham stopped me suddenly and blushed.
"Agent Baker, I have a confession to make. I know nothing about computers. I'm so happy that you know so much!"
He paused, looking at me closely.
"But you know nothing, either," he said slowly.
We both laughed.
"So what do we do?" he asked.
"Thanks to Mulder and a little computer elf named Elise, it's all done," I assured him.
We chatted like old friends all the way back to the office.
From: Agent Samuel Padilla
When we arrived back at office we found no laptop, only a note left by Agent Vanderhoff: she wanted us to meet her upstairs.
It took us five minutes to reach the lab. We entered and she immediately recognized Agent Baker.
"Agent Baker" she said approaching to us "Little job you wanted me to do?"
"Agent Vanderfoff, this is Agent Padilla."
"Nice to meet you Agent." She said as we shooke hands.
"My pleasure." I replied.
"What have you got?" Agent Baker asked.
"Not much." She said turning round and walking towards a table where all kinds of chips, wires and stuff like that could be found. We followed her. "This baby was very, very damaged".
"But there's something that we can find useful..." I said hopefully.
She glanced at me "One thing is for sure: Whoever did this, wanted to destroy the entire information that was kept in the hard drive."
"In English you're telling us that it is useless". It was Baker.
Vanderhoff stared at her for two or three seconds until she replied: "Yes. It could be said so. You won't be able to obtain any information, not from this computer."
"So?" Baker turned to see me "What are we doing now?"
"Well... activity within the Bureau is monitored 24 hours" I replied "If Sara logged into the Bureau's database, we might be able to find something." I turned to Vanderhoff "Am I right?"
"It is possible." She answered.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go." Baker said as she pulled me by my arm "Thank you Agent." She said as we left.
We closed the door and headed to another room.
"Why did we have to leave so quickly?" I asked.
"Why did you wanted to stay longer?"
"Well, Agent Vanderhoff has a nice pair of legs..."
:::Knock:::Knock:::
An afroamerican man, probalby in his middle thirties, in a white coat opened the door "Yes?" He said as he took his spectacles off.
"Agent..." I looked to his ID "...Jones." I didn't know many people at the JEHB as I didn't live in DC, but I was sure I haven't met Agent Jones before. "I'm Agent Padilla this is Agent Baker, we need some help on a case we're investigating."
"Sure, come in". We did and he closed the door behind him. "What can I do for you?"
"We're investigating the murder of an Agent. SAC Sara Zeuty". Baker was the one who spoke.
Jones immediately reacted: "Oh, yes. I knew about it. Terrible."
"We were assigned to look for any activity on her computer." I said.
"So that's why you're here. You want to know if there was any activity on her computer the night she died." He turned to his millions-of-dollars computer and seated on his chair. "Take a seat, let's see what we can find."
We did. After asking us about the date, pushing some keys and a few minutes of silence, he finally said a word: "Bingo!"
"What did you find?" Agent Baker asked.
"She logged in... Let's see... in the morning, about 11. Then in the afternoon, about 6-"
Baker cut him off: "Nothing unusual."
"And..." Jones continued "2:00 am."
"2:00 am?!" I was surprised.
"Something wrong?" Jones asked.
"What time did she logged out?"
"About 15 minutes later."
"Are we able to know what was she viewing?"
"Well. We might. But that will take time."
"Okay" I stood up. "Here's my number. Call me as soon as you know something. Thank you." I walked to the door and left the room. Baker was following me.
"Scham? What is it?" She asked when she finally stepped beside me. We talked as we walked down the hall.
"That's strange."
"The what?"
"Sara's death... it ocurred before 1 am. Someone entered the Bureau's database with her password more than one hour after that."
"Someone, but who..?"
"Unless it was her ghost..." After being working at the Y Files I had learned many things were possible "...whoever did it... we must find him... or her."
"Any clue of where to begin?"
"Yes. We might start looking for any suspicious activity in Sara's neighborhood..." I said. "Elisheva" I thought in loud voice.
"Agent Toews?"
"She's the one in charge of that... We need to follow another... Police!" I stopped walking.
"What about the Police?"
"Police officers doing routine rounds. One officer could have seen something. C'mon."
"Where're we going?"
I started walking again: "Police Station".
We reached the elevator.
From: Agent Elisheva Toews
Jadzia and I were waiting for Ms. Alder when she came to work at seven. She was a middle aged woman, average height, with salt and peppered hair and round pleasant face with deep laugh lines defining her eyes. We approached as she headed for the employees' lounge at the back of the store.
"Ms. Alder?" I asked, stepping towards her. "I'm Agent Toews and this is Agent Reyes, we're with the FBI." We showed her our badges which she study carefully. <That's strange> I thought to myself, <people usually don't pay that much attention> "We'd like to ask you about the incident that happened here three days ago. Is there somewhere we could talk in private?"
Ms. Alder smiled. "Sure, follow me." We followed her to the lounge, which was empty.
"I talked to Agent Malone yesterday. She said I should be expecting someone from her office." She put her things in a small locker before returning her attention to us. “How can I help?”
Jadzia had already pulled out her notebook and pen, poised to write. “I’m sure that you are aware that the Bureau is investigating the death of one of our agents, Ms. Sara Zeuty.” Jadzia’s tone was formal, but I could tell it was still difficult for her to say Sara was dead. “ Why don’t you tell us about what you saw the night that Miss Zeuty collapsed in the store.”
Ms. Alder took a seat in one of the folding chairs that lined the wall, and we followed her example. “Well, Ms. Zeuty came into the store just about midnight, but I was busy with a customer so I didn’t get to say hi at the time. Next thing I knew, some lady was screaming that someone had fainted. When I got to the produce section, I found Ms. Zeuty lying on the ground unconscious, peaches lying all around her.”
“Are you certain it was Ms. Zeuty?” I asked, knowing that the timeline was running close to the time of death.
“Oh yes,” Ms. Alder said with confidence. “She’s a regular here and we’ve kinda developed a casual friendship since she always shows up during my shift.”
“What is you normal shift Ms. Alder?” Jadzia asked.
“I’m usually work the graveyard shift, between 11:00 p.m. and 7:30 a.m.” She seemed to be surprised at her own choice of words. “Sara tended to come in here at odd hours. She use to say it was because her boss made her work grossly insane hours.” A brief smile flashed across her face as she enjoyed a memory of Sara. “I’m working early today because one of my co-workers is taking a few days off for vacation.”
“What did happened after Ms. Zeuty fainted?” I asked, leading her back to her story.
“Well, I just stood over her, patted her cheek once or twice and called her name. She came around pretty quick. Next thing I knew she was running out the door, getting in her car and speeding away.” Ms. Alder looked back and forth between us, waiting for our next question.
Jadzia then asked, “Did she say or do anything unusual at all while she was here? Anything that caught your attention as strange?”
Ms. Alder shook her head slowly. “No, nothing that I can remember. Like I said I was busy at the time.”
We thanked Ms. Alder for her time and gave her one of our name cards. We left instructions that if she thought of anything else, no matter how strange, that she should call us.
In the car, I turned to Jadzia. “Sara’s death was placed between 12:00 midnight and 12:30 a.m. If she was at the market at between midnight and, say 12:15, isn’t that cutting into the window we have established as the time of death.”
“It doesn’t fit well, does it?” Jadzia asked.
From: Agent Elisheva Toews
Ms. Alder hadn’t been much help, and I was in a hurry to talk with Sara’s neighbors. Almost forgetting to request the security tapes from the parking lot surveillance cameras, I ran back inside and located the store manager.
His name was Dwayne Morgan, tall good looking man in his mid thirties, thick dark brown hair parted down the middle and a dazzling smile. <gee, he looks like Brendon Frasier> I thought to myself.
Quickly I explained the situation. “Agent Reyes and I will be back in roughly two hours to view them.”
“No problem.” Mr. Morgan said. “I’ll locate them myself and have them set up and ready to view before you return.”
“Thank you Mr. Morgan.”
“Please call me Dwayne.” He said and then flashed a smile. “Any time Agent Toews.” He took a card from his pocket and handed it to me. “If you can think of anything else you might need, please call and let me know.”
I looked down at the card then slipped it into my pocket. “I will, and thanks again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sara’s neighborhood was an interesting one. It was in an older part of the city that at one time had been a hub of commercial businesses and warehouses surrounded by residential dwelling. I had remembered hearing on the news that city officials were trying to revitalize the area.
As we pulled up to Sara’s building, it looked like it had been a small warehouse of sorts that had been recently renovated into a moderate sized apartment complex. The main foyer was very simple, a small windowed area for the manager of the site, and a wall lined with several mail boxes. I looked at box that had Sara’s apartment number on it and noted that several pieces of mail were sticking out. I would have to find the manager later and ask to open it.
Working our way up the stairwell, we were almost mowed down by a young man, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed, coming at us from the opposite direction.
“Excuse me.” He said as he passed by at a high rate of speed. At the base of the stairs he stopped and looked up at us. “Hey, are you here about Sara?” The trench coats and suits must have given us away.
I looked at Jadzia and then back down at him. “Since you asked, as a matter of fact we are. Did you know her?”
“Yea, I’m her downstairs neighbor.” He said but then rethought. “I mean I WAS her downstairs neighbor.”
“Would you mind if we ask you a few questions?” Jadzia asked.
“I’ve already talked to the police, but sure talk with you. Just let me grab my mail.”
We watched as he trotted to the mailbox and retrieved his small stack of envelopes and flyers then stepped past us taking the stairs two at a time. “Follow me ladies.”
As soon as he opened the door, I remembered my college days and the constant mess my room mate created everywhere he went. I shook my head and stifled a chuckle.
His face flushed a little. “Sorry, maid hasn’t been here yet.” He quipped.
“Not to worry Mr…..I’m sorry what way your name?” Jadzia asked.
“George…George Green.” He stuck his hand out and awkwardly shook our hands.
“I’m Special Agent Toews and this is Special Agent Reyes, were with the FBI.” There was just something about those words that triggered the reflex of reaching into our coat pockets and producing badges. Seldom did I ever give it a thought.
“The clothes gave it away ladies.” George laughed. “Did you work with Sara?” His face suddenly solemn.
“Yes, she was one of our colleagues.” Jadzia said with a hint of emotion.
“I was so surprised when I heard about her death. It was really weird because I saw her in the hall the very night she died.”
“And you told this to the police?” I asked. This was a revelation.
“Well, yeah, sort of.” He thought for a minute. “I was pretty drunk that night I saw her. Me and my buddies had been out partying since finals were over.” He smiled wryly. “I told the police I had seen her, but I couldn’t be specific with the time.”
“Can you now?” I asked trying not to sound impatient.
He shook his head. “I can tell you it was dark outside at the time, but that’s about it.”
He pulled some dirty socks off the back of the couch and tossed an empty pizza box on to the coffee table in a feeble attempt to clear a place for us to sit. Jadzia took the cleared space, but chose to remain standing.
“Why don’t you tell us what you remember about that night, one step at a time.” I said, pulling out my notebook.
“Like I said, my friends and I had been kinda partying that night, and we were all pretty wasted. We ran out of beer and so I went down to the corner market and picked up a couple six packs.” He squinted his eyes as he called the memories back to his mind. “I remember they were trying to shoo me out of the store, it was closing time and I was the last customer. Anyway, when I got back I saw Sara climbing the stars up to her place. I just kinda said hi, but I think I might have startled her a little. She kinda jumped.”
“Did she say anything to you?” I said, encouraging him to continue.
He thought another moment. “No, not really. She just said hi.” He looked at me puzzled and then added. “She was moving kind of slow. I don’t know why I remember that, but it was like she was stiff or something.” The he smiled. “Yeah, now I remember. I teased her about it and said something about her having another encounter with the bad guys.” He smiled broadened at the thought of his returning memory, then shrugged his shoulder. “She didn’t really say anything. She just continued up the stairs to her place.”
“And…” Jadzia asked, hoping for more.
“That’s it. I went back to my place and hung out with my friends. We didn’t hear or see anything after that.” He said rather nonchalantly.
“Can I have the name of the market where you bought the beer?”
“Sure. It’s the Piggly Wiggly around the corner. Just go out the front of the building turn right, and turn right at the corner. You can’t miss it. It’s just a mom and pop shop, but the big pig face on the window is hard to miss.” He chuckled.
From: Agent Elisheva Toews
No matter how many questions we asked George Green, we couldn’t get him to remember anything else regarding that night. We took the names and phone numbers of his friends that had been there that night, and told him we would be in touch.
Jadzia and I thanked him for his time and decided to pay Sara’s upstairs neighbor a visit, but found no one at home. We would have to come back later.
As we past Sara’s door, Jadzia stopped and looked at the yellow crime scene tape that was draped across it. She stood for a long moment before speaking. “Elisheva, I ‘d like to check out her place one more time.”
I placed my hand on her back and gently rubbed it, knowing the pain was still very raw. “Jadz, are you sure you’re up to this? It’s been gone over several times and---“
Jadzia nodded her head. “I want to, there might be something we missed.”
I ran downstairs and asked the manager to open the apartment. She objected until I showed my badge, and then she quickly agreed.
The sight of a murder scene still had an effect on me, and the fact it had been a friend and colleague mad it that much more troubling. We were both drawn to the large blood stain and body outline that was on the living room floor. I watched Jadzia kneel and touch the floor, tracing the outline with her touch. She dipped her head to hide the fresh flood of tears that filled her eyes.
I moved on through the apartment, leaving Jadzia to her privacy. There was the usual finger print dust everywhere, but everything else was the same as the night Sara had died. Used towels lying on the bed, dirty clothes here and there,
In the kitchen I absentmindedly opened the refrigerator and glanced at the contents. It was virtually bare. A fair common state for a single, busy professional career woman. Our life style didn’t leave a lot of time for the normal Saturday trips to the grocery store. I thought of Sara’s late night trip to the store just before her death. She had bought peaches, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Sara liked peaches. I could add that detail to the list of my list facts about her. She had been a friend but she and I were so different. I was very much the touchy, feely , want to connect with others type of person and she always kept others at arms length, with few exceptions. But all in all, I felt we worked well together.
When I returned to the living room, Jadzia was going through Sara’s things on the desk top. I looked at the telephone and had a flash.
“Jadzia, did anyone request a list of incoming and outgoing calls for Sara’s phone that night?”
She shrugged her shoulder. “We should check our case file first, but I don’t recall seeing anything that looked like a phone list.”
Pulling out my cell phone, I called one of our most dependable agents. “Hey Foxphile, Toews here. Will you do me a favor? Jadz and I don’t remember seeing a list of the calls made from Sara’s house the day she died. Could you run a check for me?….Yeah, for the seventy two hours prior to her death and 24 after…Great…Thanks Foxy. Jadzia or I will be in a little later to pick it up.”
“There’s nothing here.” Jadzia said despondently. “This was a waste of time.”
“No it wasn’t.” I said squeezing her arm tightly. “If being here helped you, that it was worth the time. Plus, we were able to think of the phone list. It could be worth something.”
She smiled halfheartedly and walked to the window. She stood silently lost in thought. “Elisheva.”
“Yeah, Jadzia.”
“Did you know that Frohike lives across the street?” she asked.
“I remember Sara saying something about it. Why? Do you think he saw something?”
“I’m sure if he did, he would have said something. But he is taking Sara’s death really hard. Maybe we should check on him and make sure he’s doing okay.”
“Sure, we can do that. And even if he’s not home, TLG’s place isn’t far.” I thought for a moment, planning out the rest of the day. “Afterwards, let’s split up. I’ll take the surveillance video’s and you can go back to the office and start going over the phone list and if you have time, why don’t you go over the Boulder case, see if you can pick up on anything. I’ll meet up with you later this afternoon.”
Jadzia smiled. “The busier I stay, the better.”
As we left the building, I found the manager and asked her to open Sara’s mailbox. I quickly flipped through the stack, noting that it was mostly junk mail and bills. I handed it back to her and asked her to drop it off when she locked up Sara’s apartment.
We swung by the Piggly Wiggly and found out that they closed at 11:00 p.m. That little piece of information enabled us to pinpoint that George Green had seen Sara on the stais at their apartment building between roughly 11:05 to 11:30 that night, assuming he didn’t take any detours while he walked home.
Jadzia called TLG and found out that Frohike was with them. Well, physically anyway. Byers said he hadn’t been sober since he got the news.
“Start pumping him full of coffee,” She said, “Elisheva and I are on our way over to talk with him.”
From: Agent Elisheva Toews
Langly met us at the door. “Hey ladies.” He stepped back and let us through the door. “Any news on Sara and Samantha?”
I shook my head. “We just started working Sara’s case today. Not much to go on yet. We still believe it was a hit, but we are only starting to put the pieces together.”
“Samantha is still in the ICU at Georgetown. She hasn’t come out of her coma yet.” Jadzia frowned. “But she’s a fighter. She’ll make it.”
“She’s a damn good woman.” It was Frohike’s voice coming from the back room where I had always assumed they slept. "...a damn good woman.” He repeated.
“We tried getting him to drink coffee, but we couldn’t pry the bottle of Jack Daniels out of his hand long enough to get him to take the cup.” Byers offered apologetically. “He’s back there.” He said, pointing to the mystery room.
“The man is devastated.” Langly said. “We all knew Frohike had a major case of the hots for Scully, but he never acted like this when she wound up missing a few years back.”
I looked at Byers, “Do you think he will talk to us?”
“You can try, but I can’t promise how coherent he'll be.”
Jadzia led the way, and we found Frohike lying on a mattress in the middle of the room, a mostly empty Jack Daniels bottle in one hand, the other arm draped across his eyes. He had on boxer shorts, socks and that strange furry vest thing that he always seems to wear. The odor of alcohol was heavy in the air.
I picked up a blanket and threw it over him. He made to protest, but I stopped him. “Frohike, it’s just too early in the morning for me to see a half naked man lying on a bed. My hormones just can’t take it honey.” I quipped.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me Agent Toews.” He picked up his anm and looked across the room where I now sat on the couch. “Hey, did anyone ever tell you your hair looks just like Scully’s?’
“Yeah, I’ve been told that a time or two.” I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Frohike,” Jadzia started, “I know this is hard for you, but it’s hard for all of us. We need to just ask you a few question about the night Sara died.”
“Yeah, what about it?” His words were angry.
“Were you home that night?” She asked.
“Yep.”
“Did you see or hear anything unusual?”
“Nope. I was kinda BUSY at the time…if you know what I mean.” Frohike said bitterly.
“I see.” Jadzia said, turning to look at me, brows furrowed.
“You want to know what I found so sexy about SaraZ?” He asked no one in particular. “Let me tell you.” He took a large gulp from his bottle and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Other than the fact she had an incredibly smokin' body,” he paused in quiet reflection, “she just had a way about her. Aggressive, angry, defiant…real aphrodisiacs in my book. She didn’t give a damn about what the world thought of her…she’d just punch it in the face and move on.” He took another drink. “She could drink me under the table and the way she snorted when she laughed…ah man, what a turn on.”
I played with the end of my belt, trying desperately not to blush at the personal inventory that Frohike was making of Sara. And thankful I had taken the time to throw that blanket over him because I had a pretty good idea that he was enjoying his reverie a little bit more than I wanted to see. I went to stop his running commentary once, but I thought if I just let him ramble for a while, he’d be more cooperative in the end.
“Yea know, I can remember once I went over to her place to borrow a cup of sugar.” He stated. I looked up at him, but didn’t dare ask what HE would need with a cup of sugar. “She was kicking back and having a few drinks and asked me to join her. You know it's a very bad thing to drink alone.” He finished off his bottle and rolled it over to the growing pile of empties in the corner. “We had quite the evening, I must say...and you know what else is sexy about her? The way she eats.” Frohike licked his lips slowly. “I remember watching her that night. She ate a peach...it was so juicy...with every bite,” Frohike’s eyes glazed over as he thought of the scene. “the juice would drip down her chin...and she didn’t wipe it away...oh,no,no,no, she would stick out her tounge out and slowly lick it off…” His words faltered, the image to vivid for him to continue.
Quickly I got off the couch and started pacing the room. My sudden motion caught Frohike’s eye. “You’re sexually frustrated aren’t you Agent Toews?” His words were playful.
I didn’t offer him an answer and waited for him to continue. He had mentioned peaches, and as difficult as it was to listen to his…fantasy,my interest was piqued. “Sara like peaches, huh?”
“Oh man, yes. She told me a sweet story about how her Grandmother use to make peaches and cream for her and her sister when they were kids.” He smiled to himself as he thought of it. “Sara was one tough dame, but she had a soft side to her...”
Frohike got up and pulled another bottle of Jack Daniels from a half empty case, twisted off the lid and took several swallows without breathing. “Toews, I never got to take her to that ball game like you promised.” His words held genuine sorrow.
“I’m so sorry Frohike.” I wanted to give him a hug, but under the circumstances,…it felt a little awkward. “Maybe sometime we can take in a ball game together.”
He frowned at me then it became a wryly grin. “That would be like taking Skinner to a ball game. How much fun could that be?”
I bit my lip. <A lot more fun than you think> I thought to myself. It was time to get going.
Jadzia must have read my mind, or saw my extremely flushed face, and stood up. “Frohike, you’re obviously not feeling up to par at the moment. We can talk later.” She managed a slight pat on his back. “Call us when you’re feeling up to it. ‘kay?”
“Yeah sure.” And then as an after thought, he added. “Now Jadz, if YOU ever want to have the time of your life...”
“Thanks Frohike,but, ummm,I’m seeing someone.” Jadzia said as straight faced as she could.
“Damn, all the good ones are taken.”
“Lie down Frohike, get some rest.” I suggested.
“Yes mother.” He quipped, and curled up in a ball on the mattress.
As we headed for the door, Byers joined us. “Was he any help?”
We both shook our heads.
“I warned you, but it was worth a try.” He offered.
“We’ll be in touch.” Jadzia said and we walked out the door.
From: Agent Elisheva Toews
We left TLG’s lair and Jadzia dropped me off at the supermarket to meet with Dwayne Morgan, the smiling manager. He saw me as soon as I walked into the store, and left some poor old man wanting to buy lottery tickets standing at the customer service counter.
“Agent Toews, you’re back.” He walked over smiling. <dang, what a smile> I thought to myself.
“Yes, Mr. Morgan. Is there a problem? I’m back earlier than I expected, but I can wait if…” I looked at him a little puzzled.
“Oh no, it’s not a problem. I already have everything set up in back.” He took my elbow and led me towards the back of the store, past the employee lounge to a small room that held a couple of monitors on a folding table. Not high tech, but sufficient. A television with a built in VCR sat on a rolling cart.
“We brought it in from the lounge.” He laughed. “It’s the only playback system that we’ve got.”
“Don’t worry about it Mr. Morgan. As long as it fills our needs, that’s all I ask.”
He grinned another tooth grin and said. “Please call me Dwayne.”
“Ummm, okay Dwayne, show me what you got.” <Oh my goodness, did I just say that?>
His grin grew even wider.
“I’m sorry, what I meant to say was, let’s see what the security tape picked up that night.” I hadn’t blushed so much in one day in a very long time.
“I’ve got it set for about twenty minutes before her arrival.” Dwayne said, hitting the play button. He picked up the remote control and handed it across. His fingers purposely brushing mine. I ignored him, but I could tell he was looking for a reaction.
<This guy is flirting with me.> <Keep your mind on your work Ellie.> <Okay, I’m trying, but…>
I pressed the fast forward button and the images of cars pulling in and out of the lot sped up to a comical speed.
Finally I saw Sara’s 5’2” figure emerge from the car and walk towards the store entrance. The time indicator on the tape displayed the time as being 11:58 p.m. She looked perfectly normal. Her stride confident and quick, not at all stiff and awkward as George Green had described her. I continued to watch the next twelve minute of tape. Cars continued to come and go at infrequent intervals.
At 12:10 a.m., Sara returned to her car. I looked closely at her expression. She looked anxious, worried, frightened. I played it back several times, each time checking the details of her face. Yes, she was most definitely concerned about something.
I ejected the tape and turned to Dwayne. “Do you have the tape for the inside of the store?”
“There are two, shot from opposite angels.” He said as he passed one of the tapes. “Here, let me pop this in for you.” He deftly inserted the tape into the VCR.
Within a couple seconds the image of Sara appeared. She roamed the store for many minutes, picking things up and putting them down, not seeming to be interested in anything, until she reached the produce section. She picked up a peach and put it to her nose, taking a deep breath. Then she smiled…really smiled. I felt a pang of sadness as I remembered she was gone.
She piled a number of peaches into the hand basket that she was carrying, and without warning, she froze as if she was frightened. Her petite frame framed collapsed and fell to the ground, the peaches surrounding her.
Again, I played the tape over and over, watching the actions of the people around her. No one approached her or spoke to her. She just passed out for no apparent reason. The rest of the scene was Ms Alder coming to her side, Sara gettiing up and rushing out of the store.
The second tape pretty much told the tale.
“Can I view the parking lot tape again.” I asked reaching behind Dwayne to the table with the monitors.
“Sure, here let me help you.” He turned quickly, knocking the tape out of my hands and it fell to the floor with a crash. “Sorry.” He said, with a smile.
I watched it a few more times. Studying it carefully.
“What do you keep looking at?” Dwayne finally asked after I had looked at it about seven time more.
I hit the play button again. “Watch here.” I pointed to the parking space next to Sara’s. A mid-size dark colored sedan pulled into the space. “Now watch, a man will get out and use the payphone over here.” The male figure walked to the phone and picked up the receiver, but didn’t appear to dial a number. He stood the several long minutes that Sara was in the store.
“Sara gets into the car, backs up and drives, away.”
“So what’s so unusual about that?” Dwayne asked.
“I’m not done yet.” I pointed to the screen. “This guy watched Sara get into her car and then leave. He immediately hangs up and leaves in the same direction that she does.”
“And?”
I hit the pause button, then turned to Dwayne. “And it may be something, it may not. But I can get a partial plate number off this tape, something 785, but I’d like to take it to forensics and see if they can pull a complete number for that car. Is there any way I can take these with me and have them copied?”
Dwayne looked at me with a smirk. “You do your job very well Elisheva.”
I looked at him with a bit of surprise. “Your name card says you name is Elisheva, right?”
I nodded.
“Do you mind if I call you by your first name?” He smiled. “It is unusual.”
“Well, I’m acting under the direction of the FBI and it wou…” I started, but he cut me off.
“Tell you what Elisheva. I’ll have to clear it with the main office before I can get these copied, but I don’t think there will be a problem. I’ll get the copies made and then maybe we could meet for dinner a little later and I can give them to you then.”
<Did he just ask me for a date?> “I know you’re trying to be helpful Dwayne and I really appreciate it, but I’m, well, seeing someone right now.” I wasn't exactly the truth, but hey, it had worked for Jadzia. “I should be in the neighborhood tonight. If you’ll just leave them up at the customer service counter, I will pick them up myself.”
He looked disappointed, but relented. “Okay, I’ll do that.” He flashed a hopeful smile. “Maybe next time?”
“Sure, maybe next time.”
[Overview] [Part I] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V] [Part VI] [Part VII]