Character Sheet: Kate Morrison Appearance Prelude Journal Entries:
Name: Katherine Morrison Player: Kenneth Melvin E-mail Address: melandra@sol.co.uk Chronicle: Santa Cruz/Mortal Nature: Judge Demeanor: Survivor Residence: Apartment Motive: Method: Concept: Police Officer ATTRIBUTES: Physical: Strength-3, Dexterity-4, Stamina-3 Social: Charisma-2, Manipulation-2, Appearance-2 Mental: Perception-3, Intelligence-2, Wits-2 ABILITIES: Talents: Alertness-3, Athletics-2, Brawl-2, Dodge-3, Empathy-1, Intimidation-1, Leadership-1, Streetwise-2 Skills: Drive-2, Firearms-4, Melee-1, Police Procedures-3, Repair-1, Security-3, Stealth-2 Knowledge: Computer-1, Investigation-3, Law-1 ADVANTAGES: Numina & Other Traits: Backgrounds: Ally-1, Contacts-2, Resources-2 Merits & Flaws: Potent Blood Faith-0 Humanity-8 Willpower-7 VIRTUES: Conscience-3 Self-Control-3 Courage-4 Appearance: The most attractive aspect of Kate is the contrast between her curly Auburn hair and her emerald green eyes. Although, not unattractive, her face easily slips into a frown that disconcerts some people, along with her height. Outside of work, Kate tends to slip into a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt, occasionally accompanied by a greyish-green 'satin' jacket. Her hair is dropped down to shoulder length outside work, instead of bunched up under her cap. Prologue: It had been a relatively quiet night for the first time that week. All that they'd had to deal with was a small bar fight that had finished before they got there. Kate relaxed in the passenger seat as Sam Daley, her partner, drove them through the brightly lit streets. Her hand played with the streams of air rushing past her window as she gazed out at the familiar neon. This was a part of the job that she could stand to see more often. A peaceful night. It reminded her of the San Diego of her youth. Mind you, it did help when you lived in one of the better areas of the city and were a detective's daughter. You never got to see or hear anything. The cruiser passed her small flat as it drove through the east side of the city and the radio crackled into life breaking the silence. " Break-in reported at Norman's Pawn Shop, Pacific Garden Mall." One of the other cars responded and Kate straightened herself up. Sam pointed out to her side and she saw Billy Leonard, a well known druggie and sometime thief, wandering along the sidewalk. He was well outside his usual area of activity and started running as the car caught up with him. Before the car had even come to rest Kate had opened the door and was sprinting off after him as he jumped through a pair of manicured bushes in front of a large victorian residence. Once through the bushes Billy aimed for the back wall and had scaled it before Kate got there. From the top of the wall she saw him rush around the corner of a smaller house and then heard him run into a couple of trash cans. Giving the corner a wide berth she saw Billy sprawled on the ground trying to get back up. " Police. Don't move." she said drawing her Smith & Wesson and aiming it dead centre. " You picked the wrong night to go waltzing on my beat, Billy " she said grabbing his hand and twisting it round his back. " Hey, I ain't done nothin'. You're just hasslin' me. This is an invasion of my civil rights." he said as he twisted from side to side. The other hand was pulled back and the straps tightened. " You haven't got any rights Billy because you haven't been arrested yet. All we wanted was a word so why were you running?" Kate pulled him about checking and emptying his pockets. Out came a small knife, a few dollars in change, a small bottle of pills and an assortment of tools, including hammer, pliers, glue & paper. " Strange stuff to be taking a walk with Billy. I think we might want to have a word with you down at the station about this. I reckon this might well break the conditions of your parole. Come on, we'd better go and meet Sam for a drive down to the station." She dragged him to his feet and marched him back round the side of the house to the road. " You know we don't want to have to bust you over this Billy. I'm sure we could find some way to sort this out. I don't want to take you in and I'm sure Sergeant Watson doesn't want to see your sorry face again. So, being the public spirited citizen that you are I'm sure you'll want to volunteer anything you might know about whats going on in the area? It's totally simple, all we need is information Billy. It's really easy. Just tell us what you know about what's happening and maybe we'll let you go. Your choice." Just then the cruiser came round the corner and slowed to a stop in front of them. The back door opened and Kate shoved him in the back. " Back to the station Sam and don't spare the horses". Thursday June 1st, 1995 10:21 p.m. "Kate," Serafin Calderon, the on duty Desk officer called out to her, "Bill Johnson from the Coroner's Office called for you. He wants you to come over as soon as you can." "Thanks Kitty," Morrison answered back. Kate walked over to the interview room where Sam was talking to Billy, trying to get him to crack about what he was up to. Kate poured herself some foul tasting coffee and watched through the two way mirror. "I didn't do nuthin," Billy was protesting. "You keep playing the same record," Sam insisted. "What was the sandpaper for? The glue, Billy? Look, I want to help you with your parole officer, but you're not giving me much to go on." "It's not against the law to carry glue, man," Billy sneered. "Then why did you run?" Sam asked him. "I didn't know who it was. There's been a lot of gang-bangin goin around. How did I know that you weren't some gangster mistakin me for someone else, comin round for a hit. I heard the car, I ran." "You saw us, then you ran," Sam pointed out. "Don't give me that bullshit." Kate could see how this was going. Taking another long swallow of fastly grown tepid coffee, she put down her mug, noting the crack in its side. She walked over to the door to the interview room and knocked on it. Sam came outside. "Sam, do mind finishing up here? I've got to go over to the coroner's office for a bit." He nodded. "Sure, go ahead. I'll work on him a bit and see what I can find." "I'll be back," she promised. Checking out with "Kitty" Calderon at the desk, she got into her patrol car and drove down to the old hospital at Emeline St., where her friend Bill worked at the Morgue. Driving down there, she noticed that there was a lot of cross talk on the wires, mostly from the Sheriffs deputies, but nothing much was being said. Thursday, June 1st 10:54 p.m. "Hey there Kate," Bill smiled, pushing his thin wire glasses back from where they had slipped on his nose. Kate nodded and smiled back. "What'cha got for me,.Billy?" Kate had known Bill ever since she had joined the S.C.P.D. When she had first met him, she figured she had seen his type before. He was the gentle, quiet, bookish type who was just waiting for sixty-five to roll around for retirement, until she found out that he was already seventy-five. She had had him pegged as a typical unambitious intellectual who never amounted to much and who certainly wasn't very adventurous. But then she found out that during World War II, Bill had gone around blowing up German pillboxes and tanks as an assault engineer. Then, one of the other officers had told her about how Bill had been a race car driver while also working as a D.A. Investigator up with the S.F.P.D back in the early sixties. In one of those great ironies of life, he had been partly crippled on his way to a race when hit in his street car by a woman fleeing the Highway Patrol. That was why he now used a cane, but rather than retire on disability, he had gone on to get his medical degree and become an assistant pathologist, still working for the police department of the city where he had "retired." "Well Katie," Bill said in his high pitched voice, after writing on some forms, "I figure you'd want to see this. Ambulances brought them in tonight." "What is it?" Kate asked him. "Does it have anything to do with all that talk on the box I heard on the way over here?" Bill shrugged. "Don't listen to the box, but I suspect that that is probably so." Bill got up and hobbled over to the exam room, pushing open the door for Kate to follow. It was a positive pressure room, and the cold air hit her at once. "This place is always so cold," Kate protested. The two autopsy tables were clean and empty. Empty plastic buckets stood waiting nearby. Not often used, the room had an anticipatory feel to it. Kate was sure that this was only her imagination, but she had never liked this room. She had had too many nightmares of her one day ending up on one of the stainless steel tables, her intestines in one of the buckets and her chest cut open, its skin folded back like blankets. Looking down, Kate noticed the shears and saws on the tray. "I see you're expecting work," Kate noted. Bill didn't answer but continued to walk over to the door of the cold locker, skipping the individual storage lockers, and going right into the cold room. Milky plastic visquine covered lumpy ill defined forms on the rolling tables inside. Bill threw back the sheets, revealing the horribly torn bodies of two young adults, a man and woman. The woman particularly was in pieces, her head lying off to one side. Then Bill uncovered the last table. Taking one look, Kate felt the blood just fly from her face. Bill started to catch her but she hit the floor hard and was out in an instant. When she came too, a light was shining on her face from overhead. A sharp sting in her nose jolted her once again, and nearly gagging, she pushed Bill's hand away. "Get away with those things!" she yelled at him, indicating the smelling salts. Bill helped her up, surprisingly strong for such an old geezer, but then nothing surprised her anymore about Bill. He told her that Al, the chief pathologist was up at the murder site and would be back soon, ready to do an immediate autopsy. It appeared that a group of Hare Krishnas had been planning a chant after a hike up in the forest above U.C.S.C. when they were attacked by two cougars, or so the official report said. "You doubt the report?" Kate asked, nodding when he offered her some water. "Heck no! I wrote it," Bill snorted and when on to explain. "No, I just needed something to say. There were nine of them folks originally. The other six fled, thank God. No, only one of them says that they were attacked by cougars, one says it was a wild dog; one says it was a man with a chainsaw; one says she don't know and didn't see nothing. The other one, a little four year old girl says it was a boogie man, with a German shepherd head and big claws and that there were two of them, but that one seemed to try and stop the other. Kate's stomach turned when she thought of the victims, especially the last one. "When did it happen?" she asked. "Hmm, sometime before eight, we guess," Bill told her. "These Hare Krishnas it seems don't carry watches. Anyway, I just thought you'd be interested. No doubt your department will be giving briefings tomorrow. But for right now, the Sheriffs department and the University Police are handling this one, since it happened somewhere near the boundary of Cowell's and U.C.S.C. Of course, Park Rangers are involved and the State Police will probably get in on it before all the dust settles down." Bill looked over at Kate, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "Sorry Katie, thought you'd want to hear about this one. Hope I did the right thing." Kate shook her head and smiled weakly. "No Bill, thanks, really. It's just not something you ever get used to." Bill looked at her for a while and Kate thought for some reason that he might be thinking about the War. "Well Katie," he told her. "I'm just glad that you're not the type that gets used to things like this." Kate looked at the clock on the wall. It said almost midnight. "Shit!" she swore. "Sorry Bill. Gotta get back. Sam's waiting for me. Thanks. I'll talk to you soon." Bill waved goodbye. At the door, Kate turned and asked, "Bill? How old was the last one?" "She was fifteen," Bill told her. Kate nodded and left. Friday, June 2nd, 1995 1:24 a.m. Kate had stopped by the seven-eleven (mini mart, mini market open 24 hours) to get coffee and a grip on her herself before heading back to the station. When she had arrived, Sam was waiting for her. "Typed up the report," he said, not accusing her but obviously not happy she left him holding the bag. "Sorry," she apologized. "Bill had some serious shit down at the morgue. Do you hear on the radio?" "Who hasn't" he told her. "News crews are all over the university. Stuff's goin to be all over the morning news. Can't you hear it? Cougars kill three in Santa Cruz Mountains." "This is going to swing that cougar hunting repeal in the Assembly," Kate noted. "Well," Sam shrugged. "Maybe it should. I mean, I'm all for protecting animals. But when we've got cougars hunting people, that's where I draw the line. Don't forget about those other two woman last year, including that one in the Sierra's." He pointed his pencil at her for emphasis. "What if isn't cougars though?" she asked him. "What? Bill tell you it wasn't?" Sam asked. "No," she shook her head. "Actually, he says it was." Kate looked over the report. "What did you find out about Billy?" she asked, half to change the subject. "Nothing. But I'm going to hold him for twenty-four. At least, he can't do what he's going to do for that long." "What about his parole officer?" Kate asked. "Are you kidding? After that Rodney King mess, she's more likely to come after me for police harassment. No, after twenty-four, he walks. We call her when we've got something more solid." "You know he's up to something, something big if he won't talk about it," Kate pointed out. Sam retorted, "Knowing and proving are two different things. You're a cop, Kate. If you can't prove it, you might was well not know it. You go by that and keep your ass out of hot water." Kate nodded. "You want some coffee?" she offered. He nodded and she poured some out of her own cup. He took a sip and spit it out. "Hey this shit's cold!" he protested. With a chill, Kate realized she had said almost the same thing back in the morgue. Friday June 2nd, 1995 1:10 p.m. It had been a bad night. She'd managed to catch about 4 hours sleep and her eyes showed it. Both eyes seemed to have taken on a pinkish hue and black shadows hovered deep beneath them. "God, I look awful " she sighed shaking her head from side to side. " I need a drink." The coffee cup was brim full in no time flat and as it hit her throat it seemed to clear out some of the cobwebs. She had almost got halfway through before she reached for her flask to top it up with something slightly stronger. Draining the cup with zest she reached for the pot and poured a second stopping short of the rim to allow for the added spirit. The radio blared out in the background as she drowned her hair under the shower and then picked out her clothes. The air conditioning sputtered again as the sun singed the sidewalk outside. The music stopped and SCR went straight into the news. " In local news today, 3 die in horrific animal attack in State Park. Latest forest fire now under control. Flaming Rivers concert in the Natural Bridges State Park has finally been confirmed. It's a scorcher out there today. More after this message." The switch clicked as Kate turned it off and pulled on her jacket. Friday June 2nd, 1995 2:07 p.m. Kate dropped down a gear and cruised along the road. The traffic was fairly light and her old motorbike took the corner smoothly before sliding into the carpark beside Perg's. Hooking the stand out, she secured the bike and headed in. Sitting in one of the back booths was Jane Bishop, one of the best reporters on the Sentinel's staff. A quick glance towards the counter and a steaming mug of coffee was head for their table. "Well Kate, what's so important that you get up this early in the afternoon" Jane asked with a smirk. " Wouldn't be anything to do with this attack up above the campus, would it? I heard you'd been down to the Morgue. Any comment". The slight smirk broadened into a big grin. " Thanks but no thanks. You know I'm not going to say anything about that but I would like to hear anything you hear on it. But that's not the reason I called. You know what's it's like down here now. Things are getting weirder by the day out here. Santa Cruz, murder capital of the world. We almost qualify for that one now. What I want is to know anything you find out. Anything at all, however weird it sounds. These days I'll listen to anything. I thought I knew the streets but these days I just don't know." She looked down into her coffee as it swirled around in the cup and Jane quickly changed the subject. "Any luck finding Mr Right yet? I'm afraid I've been a bit busy with other things to check out any of those leads." She brushed her hair back out of her eyes and sipped some of her coffee. " No, no luck at all. Nobody seems to remember him at all. I'm beginning to wonder if he ever existed. If I didn't know better I'd say that I was going insane, but he did exist. I know it!" she said raising her voice, only to drop it again as people looked round. " Sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night." " I hate to say it but it's pretty obvious. You don't look so good. Are you sure your alright?" " Yeah, it's ok. Things have just been getting on top of me. I'll be fine. Fancy another cup of Coffee? " " No, I've got to get back to the office. I'll call you if anything comes up." Jane left through the glass doors and Kate watched as she strode purposefully down the street. 'Only about 4 hours to go now' she thought. " Can I have another coffee, please" she said putting her hand into her inner pocket to remove her flask. Friday, June 2nd, 1995 8:29 p.m. The sun had already set, but Kate thought she could just detect the faint vestige of its passing in the very edges of the horizon. Either that, or she was imagining it. Probably the latter as the setting sun meant that she was going to have to head to work soon. She had hoped to have this night off, but with Jens Beauneveau's wife in early labour, she had been called in on a short shift. Since Sam was off, she would either be paired with Wyden, Beauneveau's partner, or be given some boring desk duty to wittle away at the long night hours. At least, being a Friday, there were liable to be a variety of busts as reckless partygoers and freaks from over the hill clashed and bashed on their favourite weeknight. Kate was aware of someone standing next to her. Looking up, she saw that a young man, well dressed in a shirt and vest and with long black braided hair stood next to her table. He smiled at her and asked, "Excuse me for interrupting your thoughts, but it's getting rather crowded and I was wondering if you would mind my sharing your table?" Kate took in a quick visual survey of this interloper to her thoughts. He had high cheekbones, which coupled with his hairstyle made him look somewhat Asian. However, his light blue eyes stood out at once, captivating her as she looked at them. Hearing his voice, she was going to relinquish her table to him anyway, as she had to get ready for work. But as he was attractive and polite, she put off any thoughts of work for the moment and smiling, but not too warmly, nodded her head to indicate that he should sit. As he sat down, she half expected him to pull out a book and loose himself in it, but her hopes were rewarded when instead, he continued to observe her, his mouth warmly set into a enigmatic half smile that would have done Mona Lisa's brother proud. "I'm Kate," she offered her hand, surprised at her own boldness. "I'm Ray," he shook her hand and smiled. "I'm sorry if I was interrupting your thoughts. Maybe I could make it up to you by buying you a drink?" Kate had to suppress a laugh. It was such an obvious and well worn line, especially around the Perg. But then, she decided, he was seemed sincere and there was nothing inherently wrong with offering a drink. She nodded and asked for a latte. He returned with it and a double espresso for himself. "Well Ray," Kate initiated the conversation, "I haven't seen you here before. Are you new to Santa Cruz?" He nodded. "Well, not too new really. I've been here before. I used to live in Monterey so it's not like I'm a stranger or anything like that." "What brings you to Santa Cruz, then?" she asked, not being able to think of anything but the obvious questions. "I'm a late night radio D.J." he informed her. "I've just gotten a job over at KWAV and in fact, I'll be heading out there soon." "Late night, huh?", Kate smiled. "I take it that's not decaf in your cup." "Hardly," he agreed smiling. "And you?" he countered. Kate shrugged. Her job would have to come up sometime. She used to tempted to lie about it, but these days, honesty at seemed to carry the least baggage. She said it straight out. "I'm a cop." Ray didn't show any surprise, and didn't seemed turned off by the idea. Rather, he cocked his head as if slightly surprised. "Hey that's great," he said. "I have friends down at the Monterey P.D. It's kind of funny that you're one also. I'll bet you have some great stories to tell." Kate shook her head. "Actually, I don't like talking about work when I'm off." Ray nodded obligingly. "I understand, believe me. Knowing cops means knowing the shit that you all go through." Kate smiled. Conversation with Ray seemed very easy and he wasn't bad looking either. As both had to go to their jobs, they wound up the conversation by agreeing to meet the next evening back at the Perg. It turned out, they both had Saturday night off. Ray said he'd be there at eight sharp. As he walked off, Kate allowed her smile to show itself. Walking back to her bike, she felt that the night definately had taken a turn up. Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 4:04 a.m. It had been a quiet night - relatively. While pushing papers, Kate was filled in on some of the major happenings while she had been off. State troopers along with some experienced trackers were being flown in to track down the "cougars" that had killed those people up at the U.C.S.C./Cowell boundary. Also, she learned that there had been a triple murder down in the Flats. She was shocked to hear about it since the radio traffic had been quiet about it - apparently ordered by the Chief to keep ambulance chasers and curiosity geeks monitoring scanners well away. Only the officers on the scene had come back with any info and, very strangely, they weren't talking to their fellow officers. In fact, two F.B.I. agents, everyone was jokingly calling them Mulder and Scully behind their backs, had been called down to aid in the investigation of the triple murder and they had also visited the attack site up at U.C.S.C. Kate wondered if there was a connection. The only other thing of note had been an attack upon a tourist girl at the Boardwalk. Some freak, probably on drugs or a sex offender, tried to cut her head off with a sword when he saw her necking with another man in a photobooth. In other words, typical Santa Cruz, only the Santa Cruz that the tourists never saw - or heard of. Secrecy was an art in the city government and its police department. Despite all of this, Kate couldn't help think about a certain pair of blue eyes when she got off duty and headed for home. Going to bed to the sounds of early morning bird song, she looked foward to seeing them again when she woke up. Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 6:37 a.m. An acrid stench assaulted Kate's nostrils and dragged her out of her slumber. The door from her bedroom was open and the smell seemed to be coming from outside. A staccato dragging sound echoed in from the other room. Kate reached across to her bedside cabinet and grabbed her gun from the drawer. Easing the door open she peered past the frame and scanned the room. The noise had stopped but the stink was even worse here. Something moved beyond her chairs and she carefully advanced checking all the time. Creeping round the side she came face to face with 3 bodies scattered around the floor. As she recovered her composure, she recognised them as the 'cougar' victims and felt her stomach heave again. Then the lidded eyes opened. Kate felt her body stiffen. What had once been living arms started to drag towards her leaving behind bits of themselves. The third smaller corpse lurched onto its side and looked at Kate through what little was left of her face. "Help me " it moaned and Kate snapped. Her legs moved on their own accord and ran away, leaving the dead behind her. As she slammed through the door, Todd, her old flame, knelt atop the bed with Ray spread across his knees, throat slit from cheek to jowl. His face was stained red and a malicious grin swept across his face. He offered up his hand, dripping in blood and licked his lips. " Fancy a drink?" Her gun recoiled five times sending boiling lead into Todd's chest, dropping him backward. She then watched him lift his head and smile. "That wasn't very nice, was it now". With her scream she awoke, sweat staining her bedclothes, the sheets lying on the floor. Her right hand pulled her bedside drawer open and this time dragged a small bottle out which was quickly to her lips sending her own spirits to carry out their own unique brand of exorcision. Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 12:13 p.m. The cans rattled as Kate tipped them into the box on the back of her bike. She picked one up and hauled open the ring-pull. The 7-up can was finished in seconds and crushed beneath her hands. She played with it for a minute or two, flipping it from one hand to the other absentmindedly. The night had forced her to make some decisions and face up to herself. She couldn't just let the FBI sweep these deaths under the carpet. Bill had been right, she couldn't get used to death and these new ones had somehow struck a cord. She couldn't let them go without trying her upmost to find murdering scum who did it. Her conscience wouldn't let her. She had to head up to the site in Cowell State Park and have a look for herself, but she had something to do beforehand. Driving the bike down to the flats, Kate went looking for Tony Mulligan, the best grifter and sponger in town and also a damn good source of information. She found him pretending to be blind down on Buena Vista. As soon as she drew up he started to get up and walk away tapping his white cane in front of him. " Hey Skags, don't play me for a fool. Come on back. I need a word". Skags slowly turned around and walked back with a smile on his face. "Officer Morrison, so good to see you. How do you like my new street theatre?" he said hands wide in a gesture of contrition. "It's ok Skags I'm not duty today so I won't arrest you this time. I need you to find out anything about what might have happened down on the Flats in the last day or two. Give me anything you hear about no matter what it might be. I need to know. And don't give me the 'what's in it for me' routine, just be happy I don't make a call to the station. " " Ah, it's always a pleasure doing business with the police. I'll see what I can do. Talk to me Monday ". With that she turned her bike round and roared away to check out the scene up at Cowell before she had to be back to meet Ray. Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 1:34 p.m. Kate's bike roared up Highway 9, turning offroad at an unmarked dirt side road that led off into the mountains. Normally blocked, the road had been left unchained to allow for all the traffic that went that way now. Kicking up dust, she kicked the bike into a lower gear and drove up the road, dirt flying everywhere. She knew she found the spot when she saw the rows of parked cars. A Sheriff's deputy wearing dark glasses flagged her down. "Can I help you, maam?" he asked in a voice that really said, What the hell are you doing here? Kate flashed her badge. "So how's it goin?" He shook his head. "Don't know. F.B.I. and State Troopers have got that scene locked up tighter than a politician's asshole. I take it you ain't up here for business?" Kate had to shake her head. "No, Billy Johnson down at the coroner's office told me about it. Said I might want to take a look." The deputy smiled. "Bill Johnson? Hell, you should have told me. Go on ahead Officer Morrison. Just don't disturb the scene." "Thanks," Kate smiled and after pushing her bike between two cars, she trudged off in the direction that the deputy was kind enough to point out. Wild country had given way to a newly broken trail. It seemed like a whole army had come this way, Kate thought. The country was mostly scrub, manzanita, yarrow and madrone. Not being able to see the forest for the scrub, she was into the trees before she realized the flora had shifted. Typical of the Santa Cruz mountains, country could change without warning as she'd discovered once when riding her mountain bike out at Nisene Marks. Once in the woods, it was a simple matter to follow the voices. Several State Troopers, some deputies and a couple University Police were standing around while men and women in white smocks and sneakers walked diligently under the hot sun. A command post of sorts had been set up under a tarp suspended between two redwood trees farther up the hill. There, the woods were dark and cool. One of the University Police recognized her. "Kate? Kate Morrison?" "Hi Joe," Kate smiled. "How's things." "What're you doing here? Don't tell me that rowed the City Police in on this too?" Joe took off his cap and used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his eyes. "No, I came here on my own. I was just sort of in shock when I heard the news. Any word on what did this?" "Uh uh," Joe Bajer shook his head. "They put out that it was a couple of cougars and they've bagged a few already I heard, but they act like it was something else." "How's that?" "Just a feeling," he said. "We just seem to be here for show. Show of force, you know." Kate nodded. "Hey Joe, could you come over here?" Someone called Joe away. "See ya," he waved, heading off to talk with one of the troopers. Kate wandered around but the area was pretty well taped off. So far, none of the State Troopers had thought to challenge her being there, but any moment she would probably be hassled for being out of her jurisdiction in a case that didn't involve her. The University cops and the Sheriff's deputies wouldn't hassle her, but the presence of State Troopers and the F.B.I. and put a higher profile on things. She figured she'd look around until she was run out. "Excuse me, miss?" a woman's voice called out to her. Kate turned and saw a young woman walking up to her. The woman was dressed in a skirt and jacket. She had glasses and her blond hair was tied up in a bun so tight that Kate thought her head might crack at any moment. "Excuse me, could you tell me what you're doing here?" Kate started to smile. "Is something funny?" the woman asked in a voice that suggested she was anything but amused. "I was just wondering when someone was going to ask what I was doing here, and then you walked up," Kate explained. "What are you doing here?" the woman pressed. Kate reached into her pocket while the woman watched keenly. When Kate produced her badge, the woman seemed to relax a bit. "That still doesn't explain what you're doing here," the woman continued. "I have a friend in the coroner's office who mentioned this incident. I know it's not in my jurisdiction, but I'm a beat cop at night and this isn't so far away from my beat that I figured I'd like to know about it." The woman gave Kate a wry smirk. "You're very diligent, Officer Morrison. That's good. Well, did you find anything interesting?" "Well, not really," Kate admitted. "What were you expecting?" the woman asked. "Excuse me," Kate interrupted, "But what's your job here, if I may ask?" The woman produced a badge. She was F.B.I. "Agent Pam Murphy," the woman offered her hand, which Kate shook. "I'm here from the San Francisco division and I'm in charge of this investigation." "Nice to meet you," Kate said while thinking - Shit! "Nice to meet you also," Agent Murphy nodded. She looked up the hill, her mind turning back to matters at hand. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work." "Did you find anything more out?" Kate asked suddenly. "Just what was in the papers," Murphy said, giving Kate the usual jibe. Murphy turned away and would have continued up the hill had not Kate blurted out, "I hear that it wasn't cougars." Murphy turned around and scowled at Kate. Saturday June 3rd 1:58 p.m. "This cast was taken from one of several footprints found at the sight. As you can see, it looks something like a bear's but it is more elongated. Actually, biologists say that it has more in common with a dog or coyote than a bear, despite it's size and shape." Murphy turned the plaster cast so Kate could see it better. They were standing over an evidence table under the tarp. Murphy picked up another cast. "This one belonged to another individual. Though these are obviously animal prints, both attackers walked upright." She allowed time for this to sink in. "That's right, they were bipedal and based on the depth of their prints, the smaller of the two weighed about three hundred pounds and the other about four-hundred and fifty pounds." "But that's incredible!" Kate's jaw dropped. "What in God's name could leave that kind of footprint?" "If you have any ideas," Murphy said putting the cast down, "I'll be glad to listen to them." Kate thought a bit. "But what about the report of a cougar attack?" "That wasn't my idea," Murphy told her. "Your local Sheriff was the one who put that down after it was suggested to him by some idiot at your coroner's office." Kate didn't mention that the "idiot" was her friend. "Anyway, the news ran with it and the Bureau has sent the word that they want the story to stand as is." "But, people are starting to shoot Mountain Lions on sight now," Kate said. "You should tell them that they're not responsible for this." "I can't," Murphy shrugged. "Not until I get permission from Washington." "Washington? You mean F.B.I. headquarters told you to keep saying this? What about the real animals who did this. Aren't you going to warn people?" Again, Murphy shrugged. "Anyway, hopefully we'll have an answer by morning. This evening, we're starting to sweep the woods around here. We've flown in hunters from the Department of Interior - Game Control Wardens. If these animals can be found, these are the people to do it." This time, it was Murphy who smiled. "You think something's funny?" Kate asked. Murphy responded by confessing, "I was just thinking of those horrour moves I used to watch when I was a kid. I half thought about seeing if I could get some silver bullets for my gun." "Werewolves?" Kate shook her head. The idea was more than crazy. As if to answer Kate's thoughts, Murphy picked up a vial and tossed it to Kate, who caught it mid-air. Inside was a collection of black animal hairs. "Those were found at the site. Also, identical hairs were found in the hands of all the victims. Those are wolf hairs." Murphy regarded Kate. "Did you want to join our hunt tonight? I know your Chief of Police. Maybe I can get you reassigned to this task force as a favor." Kate shook her head. "Sorry, I really would like to help. But I've got a date with a really nice guy that I've only just met. Guys like that are rare." "Tell me about it," Murphy smiled. "I don't blame you a bit. Actually, I'm more than envious." The F.B.I. agent pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it to Kate. It was simply Murphy's business card. It had a San Francisco number but also had a cell phone number underneath. "Call me if you change your mind." Kate thanked her and started to walk back to her bike. She turned to Murphy. "Silver bullets, huh? I'll let you know if I find some." They both laughed, but Kate half wondered if only part of her believed her own laughter. Saturday, June 3rd 2:56 p.m. Kate hit the sack, trying to ignore the traffic noises outside her apartment. She had been overly long at the mountain murder site and regretted that she wouldn't be getting more sleep. As she drifted off, she half entertained offering some of her mom's silverware to loan to Agent Murphy. Chuckling at the idea, she nodded off. Saturday, June 3rd 9:02 p.m. Kate looked at her watch. Ray had sent word that he would be late. Still, almost an hour had passed and he hadn't shown. She was disappointed, but really, she was annoyed. His promises of being a nice guy were fading fast. "Hi, I'm so sorry." It was Ray. He appeared wearing a white shirt with a charcoal vest, and dark matching pants. "I was helping a friend and time got away from me. One of those things you just can't help getting out of graciously." "Nothing serious, I hope," Kate said, offering him a small smile. He shook his head. "No, actually it was just trouble with his girl friend. He's just trying to reconcile and I was trying to think up ways to help him." "Are you always such a nice guy," Kate asked him. Ray didn't comment but leaned his chair back and brazenly looked her over. "I think You're the nice looking one Officer Kate," he said. "You make that dress look great." Kate felt herself blushing and moved her napkin up to try and hide it. "Thank you," was all she said, choosing to accept his blatant flattery. "I can't believe I left such a beautiful woman waiting." Ray took her hand. "I have dinner reservations at Oswalds," he told her. "I hope you don't mind. I could cancel." Kate was taken aback. But deciding to go with the flow, she accepted. They walked all the way, leaving their transportation parked where they had left it in front of Perg's. Along the way and through dinner, they talked small talk, about their likes, hobbies, a little bit about work, even their hopes. After a dinner of Sea Bass and local Chardonnay, the two of them walked back to their vehicles. "Would you like to come back and have a drink at my place?" she asked. "I'm glad you asked me," he confessed. "I would have felt so obvious if I had made the suggestion. I expect someone with your charm has to fend off a lot of crass offers." Kate shook her head. "No, actually my uniform makes quite a nice chaperone." Ray laughed. Suddenly, a beeper sounded. Looking very annoyed, Ray turned it off. "Excuse me," he nodded. Kate waited outside the Perg for only a few minutes. When Ray returned, his face spoke for him. "I have to fill in tonight at the station," he told her. "I'm so sorry." She nodded. "It's O.K. I'm a cop. It's not like this thing never happens to me." "How'd anyone so nice as you just happen along," he asked, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Here's my number," he said, handing her a card. "I'm getting quite a collection of these things," Kate said, trying to hide her disappointment. "I had a great time," he said as he walked off backwards, still looking at her. She nodded. "Get out of here," she smiled. As an afterthought, she called back, "Next dinner's on me!" He smiled and waved as he drove off in his Mustang convertable. Sunday June 4th, 1995 1:35 a.m. Great, Kate thought, trying not to feel too sorry for herself. My night off and I'm home alone - again. Turning on the radio, she tuned in to KWAV. It was definitely easy listening and not at all her style. Suddenly a familiar voice came onto the air. "Hello folks, this is Ray Blanchette, filling in for Rusty Baker. Since it's Saturday night, party night, I'd thought I'd liven up the airwaves with something unusual for KWAV, but definitely one of my favorites. In fact, I've got two tickets to their next show and this next song is dedicated to someone I hope to see that night, my good friend Kate. Here's Flaming Rivers with `Blood on Fire.'" As the pulsing tune kicked her radio into life, Kate couldn't help but smile. Sunday, June 4th, 1995 2:39 am K.D. Lang's voice drifted through the flat, bringing her back to her senses. "Constant Craving" echoed through from the radio in the kitchen. Kate grabbed the back of the seat and hauled herself up to her feet as Ray introduced the next song. She couldn't help but smile to herself. Maybe things were finally coming together in her life. Outside, a chorus of loud raucous laughter cut through the night. Glancing out of the window, she saw a Yellow Cab taxi parked on the other side of the road from her window. Draped across the side of the cab was a tall black guy in a thin blue shirt, obviously completely drunk, laughing & shouting at no-one in particular. He was being propped up against the cab by a slim girl in a short white dress. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, almost reaching her waist. Kate couldn't help but recognised the pair as her upstairs neighbours.They were both students at the University and they were working in Santa Cruz over the summer. She hardly knew them, what with her shifts and anti-social hours, but she had met them once or twice in the hallway. Standing talking to the driver was another young woman that Kate didn't recognise. Her brown hair was cropped at her neck and the tan leather jacket seemed slightly out of place. Donna seemed to say something to her and she grabbed hold of Jim's left arm and helped her to carry him across the road. Kate pulled the curtains closed and dived into the bed, falling asleep quickly and contentedly for the first time in a few weeks. Sunday morning 3:43 am Her entire body tensed as blood rushed through her arteries. Something was wrong, badly wrong. A yowl carried through the ceiling from above and something crashed over. Within moments, Kate had pulled ona pair of trousers, grabbed her gun and was heading up the stairs. The door upstairs was locked but a few whisps of smoke escaped from either side of the frame. The door felt warm but wasn't hot so she backed off and charged the old door. It was as paper thin as her own and the lock broke inward almost sending her sprawling onto the floor. A black streak raced past her through the doorway. In front of her the curtains and seats in the living room were ablaze. Beyond that, the bedroom was full of fire. Smoke billowed out of the room, rising up to the ceiling whilst the fire raced up the far wall. In the middle of the room was the bed, still occupied by Jim & Donna. Both looked like they had been overcome by the smoke with Donna draped across Jim's chest. With no options, Kate started shouting for help as she raced into the bedroom. She threw the smoldering sheets off of the bed and grabbed Donna by her arm, throwing her onto her back. She hardly noticed the cool feeling to the skin under her hand. As she ran back out of the blazing room, Mr Carson came into view at the doorway. " Get her out of here and call the emergency services, NOW!!". She practically threw Donna towards him and turned back towards the bedroom as the old guy started shouting for all he was worth. By now the heat inside the flat was intense. She felt her hair crisp as she tried to run back into the bedroom. The heat and smoke drove her back and she looked about for anything that would help. The out of desperation, she ran into the kitchen and tipped the basin full of cold water and dishes over herself. She grabbed a wet washcloth and covered her nose and mouth to protect against the thick smoke. Soaked through, Kate ran back into the bedroom, ignoring the heat and dragged Jim's body off of the bed. His arm felt cold to the touch. He was pretty heavy, but not too heavy to drag along the floor. By the time she'd made it to the bedroom doorway, she was having problems. The smoke was getting through her makeshift mask and she was choking badly. The heat had long since dried out her clothes. All around her burning bits of paint and wallpaper fell from the ceiling and walls. As she passed through the doorway she felt a burning pain rippled across her back. In a flash, she ripped off her burning t-shirt, tossed it aside and kept pulling. Behind her she heard a click and felt something cool and wet splash onto her back. The foam extinguisher covered her and Jim before being aimed at what was left of the burning seats. Almost in a trance, she kept pulling on Jim's arm as they slid out of the main room. Her neighbours helped to carry the body out of the building and across to the other sidewalk. People stood around looking at the bodies, but Kate started to give Donna CPR trying to raise any sign of life. Someone else tried to copy her work on Jim but nothing happened. After a minute or so, a fire truck thundered to a stop outside her flat and two paramedics pulled up and ran across to take over from Kate. She happily let them and collpased against the nearby wall causing her to cry out as her burnt back hit the cold concrete. It was only then that she thought about her lack of clothes. It seemed almost funny in comparison to what had happened. Sunday, June 4th, 1995 7:34 p.m. "Well, are you sure you're up to this?" Sam asked her. "I mean, you have had the tops for shitty days." "I'm alright," Kate lied. Actually, she did feel better. Being in uniform and out on patrol gave her a sort of cushion where she didn't have to deal with life. Her policework came with a rhythm all its own. Given that it was a often erratic, sometimes dangerous rhythm, at least it was something she could deal with. Kate drove while Sam rode alongside her. They had gotten a quiet patrol out along the Seabright area, but being as it was Sunday, it was doubtful anything big would come up anyway. "Unit ninety-seven, a possible 231 reported. Route to Frederick Street Park." Kate picked up the radio. "Roger, Unit ninety-seven enroute from the corner of Pilkington and East Cliff." "Roger Unit ninety-seven. Medical backup enroute. ETA four minutes." "Roger," Kate answered. Paramedics and Firemen had also been dispatched. Though it looked like Kate and Sam would be the first on the scene, but not by much. A "231" was a medical emergency, so Kate flipped on the siren. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam tense up in his seat. She smiled at him. "It's alright. It's just a routine medical call. We'll meet some Paramedics and Firemen at the site and they'll take care of everything." Sam looked uncomfortable. "Oh, I hate this medical shit," he whined. "I hope it's nothing gory." Kate just laughed. "How did you get to be a cop, Sam?" "I had connections," he said and then laughed himself. Kate turned the cruiser up onto Seabright and sped down the narrow street, cars turning off to give her way. She got off Seabright at Windham and raced down the residential street. Children playing in the street ran out of their way and followed the police car's course with open mouthed wonder. Coming onto Frederick, Kate made a right and quickly drove down until she reached the dead end, where a nice little park sat on the bluffs overlooking the harbor. Several people were gathered in a crowd. Many of them were dressed in athletic gear and a one was holding a volleyball. A short woman holding a cellular phone rushed up to Kate. "Thank God you're here," she said in a breathless tone. Several people seeing Kate made way as the woman led Kate to where a young girl lay on the ground. The girl was in her early teens and her breathing was shallow and she was obviously unconscious. A man was being held down by other men. "That man was with the girl. She screamed and tried to get away, but when she tried to run, this man pulled her back. Then the girl fainted." Kate looked at the man. He had a dusky complexion and curly black hair. Though his clothes were nondescript, they appeared well made. Kate bent down to look at the girl. She was very pale, as if she was either in shock or had lost a lot of blood. There seemed to be no marks on her though and she was dressed only in tattered jeans and a "Sisters of Mercy" tee shirt. Kate couldn't find any identification on her anywhere. "I'll need you all to stay so I can get statements from you," Kate told the crowd. Off in the distance, she could hear the sound of approaching sirens. She got up to go to the car and thought she saw Ray among the crowd. His face appeared only for an instant and then she couldn't find him. Well, she couldn't blame him for staying out of her way, with everyone else running around. It wasn't actually the best situation for a social call. She ran and got back on the radio. "Dispatch, this is unit ninety-seven requesting immediate backup. We have a young female Caucasian who is unconscious and might be injured. We also have a young male Caucasian suspect who has been apprehended and is currently under citizens' arrest. Again, request immediate backup." "Units ninety-two and twenty-four route to Frederick Street Park. Officer in need of backup." Kate went back to the suspect. Sam had frisked and handcuffed the young man. The suspect hadn't given him any trouble but when questioned, he just stood there, staring down at his feet. Checking his pockets, Kate found a wallet with several hundred dollars in cash, but nothing in the way of identification, not even a driver's licence.. A few minutes later, paramedics and firemen arrived and began administering aid to the young girl. Two more patrol cars arrived not long after. "Hi Kate. Hi, Sam," Jim Olivas and Mike Boundy were in the first car. Will Pierce and Dave Blake got out of the second. "Hi guys," Kate said. So much was going on. Paramedics had strapped the girl victim to a gurney while even more onlookers had arrived, giving Kate's backup a busy time at crowd control. "The suspect doesn't want to talk," Sam informed them. "Jesus, Sam!" It was Jim's partner, Mike. "You think you put these cuffs on tight enough?" Looking over, Kate could see that the suspect's hands were bleeding around the handcuffs. "Better take him down to the hospital," Will Pierce advised. "I didn't put them on that tight," Sam said, checking the cuffs. But there was no denying that the cuffs were on too tight, cutting into the suspects hands. Kate was quite surprised. Sam was one of the more experienced cops in the department. They didn't call him old man for nothing. She had never seen him make a mistake like that. The paramedics had started to wheel the girl around when it all began to happen. Kate didn't even have time to think about it. Sam and Mike were unlocking the suspect's cuffs when all of a sudden, Mike had been shoved backward and the suspect had Mike's gun in his hand. He moved fast. It was like not even being able to follow it all. Suddenly, Sam was down, looking like he had been clipped in the head by the butt of Mike's pistol. Before Kate and the others could draw his own gun, the suspect had run past the paramedics, knocking one over and by the time their guns were drawn on him, the suspect had pointed his gun at the remaining paramedic while at the same time unstrapping the girl from the gurney. "Freeze!" Dave Blake yelled out. But the suspect didn't freeze and there were screams and people started running everywhere. No one dared to fire for fear of hitting either the girl, the paramedic or any one of number of panicked bystanders running or ducking in the background. In fact, so many people hit the ground that the lawn of the park looked like a crazy patchwork of green bordered colour. Jerking the unconscious girl off of the gurney, the suspect backed away, toward the stairway leading down to the harbor. He used her as his shield, even as Kate and the others were advancing. Sam had rejoined them and was running to flank the suspect, but with the harbor behind him, there was no way to go around, not without jumping off a cliff. "Back offa!" the man threatened. He sounded to Kate like he had an accent. Holding the gun to the girl's head, the man backed off down the stairway. Just before he was out of sight, be popped a few rounds off. Kate and the other cops hit the ground, but the very ground erupted as screaming panicked civilians ran back toward the street. There was no way to fire now. Too many friendlies, not that anyone wanted to take a chance at hitting the girl. Several more shots were fired and then the suspect disappeared. Kate couldn't tell in the failing light if anyone had been hit, but she did see Sam run for the stairway. She, Dave Blake and Jim Olivas were hot on his heels. There were more sirens in the distance. When they got to Sam, they found him just standing on the stairway, looking off the path toward a grove of Eucalyptus trees. The suspect was there, dead. It looked like his back had been broken. Scrambling down the hill, Kate checked the girl. She was still alive, but she was in convulsions. Her neck was bleeding and checking it, Kate observed two puncture marks, which hadn't been there before, like she had been bitten by an animal or " Kate quickly shook the more absurd of the thoughts out of her head. The suspect was indeed dead, but the thing that Kate noticed almost at once were his hands - or, rather, his wrists. They were tanned, and they showed no mark or blemish upon them, to indicate that they had been badly bleeding. Recovering Mike's revolver, Sam stated, "I don't know what the fuck happened. After he shot at us, I ran after him. And this is the way I found him. I didn't see anybody, but I sure as hell didn't do that!" Everyone knew what he meant. Looking at the suspect, they could see the look of shock and pain frozen on his face. His body was bent clean over. Short of being a gorilla, Kate didn't see any way that someone could do that to a human body. "So how in the fuck are we going to write this up in the report? Dave Blake asked. Later, as things got down to a milder state of panic, the back up units that Mike Boundy had called in arrived to help seal off the park. There were enough units on hand, so Sam sent Kate off to the hospital with the paramedics, to see if she could get an idea of what happened to the girl. Sam told her he'd join her there later. Turning her siren on, she acted as escort for the ambulance and after they all arrived at Dominican, Kate hung back, observing as the doctors and nurses went to work. Many of the nurses were nuns, but that wasn't surprising, given that it was a Catholic hospital. Kate felt sorry for the girl, but was definitely baffled as to the how and whys of the victim's situation. She definitely wanted to interview the doctors when they were done. She said doctors because there were two of them, and both seemed to be arguing over the best way to proceed with the patient. When she first got there, a young doctor, who was dressed in street clothes, rushed to examine the patient. This doctor was about 5'10, and had a medium build. He was rather nondescript, with an unhealthy pale complexion, blond hair and green eyes that were only slightly less vibrant than her own. He was quick though, that Kate had to admit. As the nurses rushed the young girl to a curtained station, the doctor did a cursory exam. He said only one word. It was a summation. "Shit!" There was talk about missing blood. Kate didn't think the doctor had much hopes for her recovery. Yelling for x-ray, the whole crew worked on the girl, even as she was being wheeled off to somewhere else - presumably x-ray. At this point, another doctor appeared. He was tall and slender, and his hair was a slightly darker blond than the first doctor's and he had a moustache. He was also properly attired in a green hospital gown. His watery large blue eyes looked over the scene as the desk nurse was explaining something to him. But when he saw Kate, he immediately regarded her with interest. However, at his point, the first doctor returned frantically wheeling the gurney back to the station he had just exited, closely followed by the group of nurses that had been with him. They were only gone less than a minute before they all reappeared. The nursing staff protested, but the doctor seemed adamant that they couldn't afford to waste their time on x-ray and to prep the girl immediately for massive transfusion. "What the hell is going on here?" the second doctor butted in in front of the first. "Get out of my way, Fust!" the first doctor said, shoving the second one aside. "You're not on duty!" Fust told him. "Neither were you," the first doctor accused.. Two nurses monitoring i.v's just looked at each other. "You need to get her to x-ray and find the cause of her bleeding. She'll die if you don't, Lawrence!" "While we're wasting time on the x-ray, she could go into cardiac arrest," Lawrence replied. "We need to get blood into her before we do anything else." "We don't have enough of her type to waste it like this. She's obviously got some severe internal trauma for this kind of loss. If you get her into surgery, we just might make it!" Fust made a move to take the gurney. Lawrence just grabbed him by his smock and dragged him out of the cubicle. He seemed very strong. "This is my patient, doctor. You either assist and do what I say or get out of here." "Lawrence, that girl's going to die, damn it!" Lawrence ignored him and went back to what he had been doing. Just then, there was a loud whining sound and Kate saw the pulsing line on the scope above the girl go flat. One of the nurses presented Lawrence, the first doctor, with some discs while other nurses cut away the tee-shirt. Lawrence applied the discs to the girl's chest. The girl's body arched up. The line on the monitor jumped back to life and the alarm went silent. The surprised shock on the faces of all the nurses showed itself. "You can take her to x-ray, if you want," Lawrence told them. "I don't think you'll find any internal bleeding." "That's ridiculous," Fust told him. "There's no way to account for that kind of blood loss without a severe trauma of some sort." "Is she going to be alright?" Kate interjected. Both doctors turned to look at her. Lawrence looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He seemed surprised and somewhat suspicious of her abrupt appearance. His look seemed as much to say, "you don't belong here," Kate thought. The other one, Fust, looked at her and then, as if remembering something, offered her that smile again, as if resuming where he had left off. Kate looked over at the girl. Lawrence ignored her question. Putting a flat stick in the girl's mouth, he scrapped something out. It looked like blood. His activity wasn't missed by Fust, who had turned from his silent appraisal of Kate to look at Lawrence's activities. "That looks like blood," Fust said. "Thank you doctor, but I do know what it looks like," Lawrence snapped. Without even waiting, Fust yelled at one of the nurses, "Nurse, prepare for a stomach pump." Before Lawrence could protest, Kate, growing impatient herself, interjected, "Is that blood?" "How should I know?" Lawrence said, watching Fust. Fust called something to all of their attentions. "Look here," he held up his discovery, "there was blood in her stomach, quite a lot of it too." Fust exhibited what looked like a noxious mix of pinkish, yellow and red fluid. "Lawrence, you're an idiot," Fust said, "This girl's obviously bleeding internally, somewhere around her stomach. I'm prepping her for emergency surgery." "Her vitals don't support that," Lawrence insisted. "You can take her to x-ray, but I'm not letting you cut her open. She'll recover as is." Lawrence called a large nun over to him. Her skin was coal black and she was large, not just overweight, but large. "Sister, I want you to assist Doctor Fust," Lawrence told her. Fust swore, "Lawrence, this girl is going to die because of you, and I'll see that Donohue and the Board crucifies you over this!" Lawrence didn't comment, watching Fust and entourage wheel the patient back down the corridor, again presumably to x-ray. "Doctor, I would like some answers now," Kate said in a very insistent voice. "First, on the surface, I would have to say I agree with your - colleague - that it would seem the girl had some internal injury. How else do you account for her condition? Could those wounds in her neck have something to do with this?" Lawrence remained silent, as if concentrating. Glancing at Kate's name badge, he asked, "Officer Morrison, were you there when she was found?" "I was first on the scene," Kate told him. "Could you tell me the situation of how you found her?" Before Kate could answer his question, a tall athletic looking man burst into Emergency from the lobby entrance, followed by a young woman wearing a baseball cap. The two were followed by a nun. "Sir, you'll have to come back before I call security," the nun insisted. The man ignored her, and seeing Lawrence and Kate just standing there, he ran over and, seeming very concerned, but otherwise controlled, said, "I was told my daughter, Angela Thompson is here. I'm Quinn Thompson, her legal guardian. I want to know how she is? Will she be alright?" Kate looked at him, somewhat surprised at his claim to be the victim's father. After all, Kate had only just arrived with the girl. Doctor Lawrence raised a hand in a calming, I'll-take-care-of-this gesture to Sister Bernadette. "Thank you, Sister...Now, Mr...Thompson? Right, now your daughter's vital signs look good, though she needs blood urgently. We're having her X-rayed to check for internal injuries to be safe, but her condition is better than we'd expect if she does have such. I can't promise anything, we never can, but the prognosis is favorable. If you want to help her, the best thing you can do is go back to the Emergency Reception desk, tell them you're her guardian and fill out the paperwork...we need all the information on her medical history you can provide, if we want to help her." Lawrence turned to Kate. "Now, I was asking you about the girl's condition when you found her. All the information we can get helps." He paused. "I'm particularly curious as to whether it's possible she was moved before you found her; the blood she lost has to have gone somewhere, after all. We had a vaguely similar case the other day, from your department, actually. Small-time crook who got cut up with a sword of all things." Lawrence glanced over his shoulder towards the X-ray room. "I don't have too much time here. I need to be there to check up on her when they finish with this." Kate said, "Very well Doctor, I'll tell you on the way." Moving through the swing doors they headed to the X-Ray Room. "From what we know, she was in a scuffle with a man and appeared to faint, at which point her attacker was apprehended by a number of citizens. We arrived on the scene and I checked the girl as my partner cuffed the suspect. Her breathing was shallow at that time and she was obviously unconcious. The paramedic's came and checked on her condition. Then her attacker got free with a gun, picked her up off the gurney and backed down some stairs holding her in front of him as a hostage. We pursued him down the stairs after he'd fired off a volley of shots and we found her attacker crumpled on the ground, his back broken and her lying there with the two holes in her neck. The holes hadn't been there before. Whatever caused her to lose the blood, as far as I could tell, there was no signs of any spill of blood drying into the ground of any real quantities near either of her resting places. It's a real puzzle." Unconciously, she shifted her hand up and scratched the side of her head. Putting a hand on the doctor's shoulder Kate stopped him in the middle of the corridor. "Ok Doc, I've told you what I know. Now Doc, do you mind explaining what you mean about this being similar to one of the other recent attacks? I'd also appreciate your medical opinion on what happened? How come you disagreed so violently with Dr Fust? Was he right or were you playing a hunch? I need to know anything you can give me on this as things just seem to be getting weirder and weirder these days." Locking eyes with Dr Lawrence she waited for an answer, anything that might make sense. Doctor Lawrence ran a hand through his short hair in a motion that was somewhere between frustrated and confused. "At the moment, I don't really know anything. We're just running as fast as we can trying to keep up. Dr. Fust and I...often disagree, and I'm afraid you caught the edge of some of that. I made a best judgement, based on my experience and what I saw, that it was important to get some blood into her fast, that exploratory surgery would cost more than it would gain. He disagreed." Kate leaned back against the wall. " Yeah, I noticed that you were having problems with some of the sisters as well. Fair enough. I hope for your sake that your right!" A tired breath escaped her lips. Lawrence glanced around the hall. "Where ARE those results?" he muttered. With a wrench, he turned his attention back to the police officer. "There was a patient in here just the other day who lost a lot of blood due to a stab wound in the abdomen, but a nicely cleaned and dressed wound, so that there wasn't that much blood around it. Similar to this case, though there the problem was obvious, and the pattern of the vital signs was different. If this girl had had internal stomach bleeding, I'd have expected a similar pattern." Nodding, Kate picked her notebook out of her top pocket and started scribbling some notes. He stopped and blinked. Suddenly, he spun and grabbed the arm of a passing nurse. "A stomach pump was done on the latest ER case. I need a _full_ analysis done on the contents. Please?" He finished with a pleading smile. The nurse, apparently used to such abrupt requests, nodded briskly and moved off. Lawrence turned back to Kate again. "Sorry. What was I saying? Similarities. There was another case with a sword...or am I combining cases? I'll have to check records...anyway, a puncture wound to the neck; arterial pressure can spray the blood away from the body, though from what you said, that doesn't sound like the case here." He stared off into space for a moment. "Bother. Confusing. Anyway, her condition suggested to me that the blood loss was not continuing, but was nonetheless vital, and I made the call I did." He shrugged. "This is a mess. If things are weirder than this out there, Officer, I'm sorry for you." "Yeah, I'm afraid to say that they appear to be going that way. One question Doctor. What sort of pressure would it take to completely snap someone's spine? "Snap someone's spine? Depends on the circumstances. If you can brace the victim properly, an average person can do it. In a brawl, it would take a rather stronger than average person, but it's far from unknown...usually happens due to a fall or throw, though, rather than a simple punch or squeeze..._that_ would take a seriously strong individual." He looked around again. "Aren't they done yet?" Pushing herself off the wall Kate readjusted her cap. " I'd better go and talk to Mr Thompson. Doctor, if you'd head along when you have some information, I'm sure we'd both appreciate it. Try and leave out the strange circumstances for the moment until we have something more to go on. I hope you understand that all of this is confidential. I don't want any of this going beyond official circles. If you could send me a copy of your final results, when you have them, I'd appreciate it. Anyway, thanks for your co-operation." With this, Kate walked back down the hall to the Reception room and Mr Thompson. As Kate turned the onto the main emergency desk, heading for the entrance lobby, she noted that someone had smashed the glass in one of the doors to the lobby, not an easy task given that the glass in the doors was tempered. There was blood on the glass as well as on the floor, which a hospital orderly was busy cleaning up. "What happened here?" Kate asked the orderly. The orderly looked up at her. "Ah, that man out there, the one who's the father for the girl they - you - just brought in, well, he got mad and smashed the door. I was going to call you for help, but he apologized and he gave us cash to pay for the door." Kate, looking at the blood, commented, "Well, he must have been cut pretty bad. Has he seen a doctor?" She couldn't hold it against Thompson. Having one's daughter being taken to emergency as a victim of assault could undo anyone. But she did make mental note of Thompson's temper. Answering her question, the orderly shook his head. "Said, he didn't want to see a doctor. Looks like his hand healed up O.K. At least, he's not bleeding all over the lobby." Kate looked into the lobby through the uncracked door. Thompson was there, waiting with his young female companion. She noted that his hand seemed fine and that if there had been any evidence of blood or cuts, they seemed to have disappeared. She walked through the doors, into the short corridor connecting Emergency with the Emergency Patient Lobby. Walking back down the corridor, Officer Kate Morrison stopped at the Reception desk. Turning away from the desk Kate addressed the two people waiting. " I'll be with you in a minute Mr Thompson". After talking to the sister there she picked up the phone and spent a minute making two calls. Once finished, she turned back Mr Thompson. " Can I see that Identification now, Sir." Quinn turned to face Officer Morrison while an orderly looked at his right hand. The tall blonde woman who followed him in looked concerned but under control as she focused her gaze away from the x-ray room door, whose window had recently been shattered. It was not hard to deduce that Quinn had just recently smashed his hand through the window. "Yes, certainly officer." Quinn began to reach inside his trenchcoat, but the orderly held onto his wrist briefly, looking astounded. "Look, I told you it was fine," he insisted as he pulled his hand away. The orderly simply shook his head. "Man, you were lucky you didn't shred it to pieces on the security wire," he marvelled as he began walking down the hallway. "Just don't break anything again or I'll call security." "Yes, yes," Quinn hissed. He seemed to have calmed down from his original frantic state, but only barely. He reached inside his trenchcoat and pulled out a wallet. In due order, he handed a California driver's license to Officer Morrison. "Nasty Cut. I'd have the Doctor have a look at that when he comes back. Also, I'd appreciate you keeping control of that temper." Looking over the licence, Kate made a few notes and handed it back to him." "Sorry, Officer..." Thompson replied. "It's just been... a shock. I assure you it won't happen again." Placing his wallet back inside his trenchcoat, his right hand brushed against its interior. A good portion of the blood rubbed off; he slipped his hand into an exterior coat pocket, but it seemed that first appearances were deceiving - it must have been a very small cut that bled heavily, because it looked as if there was no wound on the hand at all. "Miss, can I have some ID from you as well? I'll need to take a formal statement from both of you in the future, but for now I'd appreciate you answering my questions," Kate told them. "Sure," the woman said, mechanically pulling a driver's license out of her small handbag. The name on the license was Jennifer Kenora Hirschorn, and it was issued by the state of Colorado. The birthdate on the license placed her at 19 years of age. "Thank you " Kate said handing it back to her. " I take it your with Mr Thompson? Where are you staying within Santa Cruz? Can I have an address and phone number for you as well, sir?" The woman nodded. "I have an apartment in Beach Hill, at 309 3rd Street, apartment number 7." "My apartment is right above my shop, The Hidden World, on Cedar Street," Thompson replied. "The number is 955 and my phone number is 426-9191." "Thank you. We'll contact you if we need anything beyond what you've given me," Kate said. "Now, who did this to her?" Quinn's eyes bore into the officer, a pair of ice-blue missiles. His question had an imperative tone to it, as if he expected an answer without delay. Indicating towards the seats Kate headed across talking as she went. "We don't have a name yet, but our primary suspect was found dead at the scene of the crime. However, there are certain peculiarities that mean we need to gather as many facts as possible at this moment." Reaching the seats she sat down and quickly asked her first question. "Could you tell me where you thought your daughter was today and how you were informed of her assault? Can you give me any details of any of her friends and any enemies she or you might have that would want to hurt her? Does she have any medical conditions the doctors should know about?" Mr. Thompson and Ms. Hirschorn sat down a pair of seats opposite Officer Morrison. Quinn scrubbed the stubble on his chin with his left hand; he had a tired, haggard appearance, as if he had been worrying about something for days. "The last time we saw her was at Unity Temple; it's a non-denominational church, its services incorporate a number of religions, including eastern ones. Neither of us had been to a church in some time, but we went to the Temple this morning. After the service, we asked Reverend Joy to watch over Angela and left her at the Temple." Thompson sighed faintly as he stared into space, then leaned in toward Officer Morrison. "You see, Angela had begun seeing a young man whom I had some reservations about. His name was Richard, I don't know his last name. Big kid, about six feet tall, broad-shouldered, dressed up like a punk. I had a bad feeling about him right from the start. " Thompson scratched at his stubble again as he continued. "I wanted to talk to her about it, but she's rebellious and I thought she wouldn't listen. So I thought the best thing would be to take her to the Temple, a place of spiritual power. I own an occult shop on Cedar Street; I don't believe every superstitious wives' tale I hear, but I do have some belief in a spiritual world, and I thought she might be safe there." "As it turned out, it didn't protect Angela from her own impulses. I called to see how she was doing, and it turns out she left the Temple to go with someone who looked like Richard. I was terrified for her. I went down there to ask Reverend Joy more questions, and she..." Thompson paused briefly, blinked, and continued on. "She couldn't tell me any more, except that the Temple wasn't a prison and they couldn't hold Angela against her will. I was afraid. I thought she would wind up in the hospital or dead...I wasn't thinking straight. Jenny and I left right away, we just picked the first hospital we could think of and went to it. I didn't think of making telephone calls. I... I guess I just had to _do_ something, I couldn't just stay put and call every police station, hospital or...morgue." Thompson's eyes began to water, but he held his head straight up and set his jaw determinedly. Jenny tried to soothe him, holding his arm and gently rubbing his shoulder. "She's a good kid, Officer Morrison. She pretends she doesn't care, but she's really a good kid, and very naive. She doesn't deserve this, damn it!" "What made you worry about her boyfriend? Anything specific? Do you have any other details about him, like where he lives? If it's alright we'll need you to give us a better description in the near future. Do you have a picture of Angela on you? Does she have any other friends who might know more about what was going on? Also, can you give me an idea when you visited the temple and where you went after that? Did you come directly to this hospital, and how did you know that she was here?" Kate looked questioningly at the pair and jotted down a few more scribbled notes. Thompson shook his head. "I've told you all I know about him. I only met him in passing yesterday, but I had a bad feeling all the same. I can give a more accurate description later, if you like." "I would appreciate it, just in case our John Doe is this Richard guy. It's a bit difficult to say at the moment." "As for a photo of Angela, I've got one right here." Thompson reached inside his trenchcoat and pulled out his wallet again. Flipping through a few cards, he pulled out a photograph of a young teenage girl, about thirteen, with long, dark hair. She had a beautiful, innocent smile which beamed from the small photograph. "That picture was taken about a year ago," Quinn noted. "Nowadays, she usually wears black lipstick and heavy eyeliner." "We went to the Temple for 8:00 a.m., after that we went back to my apartment and organized a few things there. Angela and I only moved in there a few days ago, so there were a number of packages to organize. The shop also needed some organization done in the back room, so we were there all day." Kate asked him, "You've just moved in? Where from? How long have you been in the city, or have you just moved into the flat from within the city?" "We moved in last week from Los Angeles last Wednesday." "When did Angela go to the temple? Sorry I'm getting a little confused. Did you leave Angela at the temple at 8.00 a.m. or was she taken there later?" "We went to the temple at eight; the service finished at nine and we left Angela there for the rest of the day. As for the hospital, I already told you we were frantic after talking to Reverend Joy. We just went to the first hospital we could think of; on reflection, we didn't even necessarily know she was here. We were just lucky - if you could call finding your daughter in the hospital after being attacked lucky." "Fair enough. I can undertsand that." "Can you tell me how old Angela is? You said that Angela is a bit rebelious. Has she ever been in any trouble with the police?" "Angela's 14, and no, she's never been in trouble with the police. She's just been in some trouble, that's all. As I understand it, her biological father was... very abusive. He died of a heart attack over a year ago; it was shortly after that when I adopted her. She needed someone to nurture her, and an orphanage is no kind of place to raise a kid." "Ah, yeah. You're right there. That clears up some of my confusion." "I apologise for this but I must ask it. Was Angela happy at home, considering that Miss Hirschorn is round about her age?" Thompson's companion gave a blink of surprise, as if startled by the Officer's question, then let out a small sigh. Thompson seemed to be more deeply affected by the officer's questions; the red in his cheeks began to spread across his face and in his ears, and his eyes had a dangerous glint to them as he leaned forward, almost to the point of standing. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to imply, but..." "Quinn, calm down," Jenny interjected, apparently surprised by Thompson's minor outburst. He slowly collapsed back into his seat as his feaures drained back to their normal complexion. Thompson focused his gaze off to the right on nothing in particular. "Officer, you've got it all wrong." Jenny raised her left hand, showing the engagement ring on her third finger to Officer Morrison. "I have a fiancee back in Colorado, ma'am. Quinn and I are just friends. We met last Thursday in his shop." "I apologise " Kate said putting up her hands in an expression of contrition. "From you both coming in together and your mannerisms, I assumed you were connected. I guess I'm just getting too used to worst side of this city. I take it that it was just a coincidence that you were with Mr Thompson when he went to the Temple?" "Can you give me any idea of where she might have been with this Richard in the last few weeks?" Jennifer Hirschorn turned to look at Thompson, who was still staring off to his right. "Quinn?" Jenny placed a hand on his shoulder. "Wha?" Thompson blinked in surprise as he turned to Jenny. His face turned red again, but it seemed he was more embarrased than angry. "Oh, sorry." He turned to face the Officer. "Um, I know she went to the Boardwalk with him last night, but that's it. Believe me, I wish I knew more." "Thank you. I think that's enough questions for now. If we need to know any more I'll get back to you. I'll just go and find the Doctor and see how things are progressing." Saying this, she got up and headed through the swing doors, accidently crunching a piece of glass under foot as she went. "Oh fuck! " seemed to echo down the corridor as the doors closed behind her. As her words echoed down the hallway Kate began to cringe. She walked down the corridor, looking in doors left and right. Eventually, she headed back to the reception room. Along the way, one of the nurse's she'd seen earlier came walking back along towards her. "Sister, could you tell me where Dr Lawrence is? I have to talk to him about the young girl I brought in earlier." "I'm afraid he's already left. He wasn't even supposed to be on duty tonight. If there's anything you want to know I'm sure on of the other doctors on duty could help you." She didn't seem to be too sure of herself. "It's ok. Could you tell the doctors not to leave Angela Thompson, the girl I brought in, alone for any time at all. We need to know as soon as she regains conciousness. Also, don't leave her alone with Mr Thompson," she said indicating back towards the reception room. "We don't believe he has anything to do with her injuries at all, but he has a temper and we reckon it's better to be safe than sorry. I'll leave a written note at the reception desk but if you can pass that on to her doctors, I'd be grateful." Walking back through the swing doors, Kate headed straight to the reception desk. Picking up a piece of paper from the reception desk, Kate wrote out a quick letter to go to Dr Lawrence asking him to send along his ideas & findings to her at the station and then handed another note to the receptionist to give to Angela's doctor, repeating what she had said to the nurse. Kate then headed out to the car and radioed in. "Unit ninety-seven. Can you patch me through to Captain Neill? " The wait seemed to be interminable. Then suddenly the captain came on the line, his low gravelly voice filling the police car. "Yeah Kate. What's your status? " She took a deep breath and launched into a rundown of the situation. "I'm at the Dominican Hospital. Our Jane Doe appears to be one Angela Thompson. She's just moved into the area with her adopted father. He's here at the hospital already. I doubt he's involved with the incident, but there's definitely something fishy about his story. We didn't have a clue who she was until he comes in yelling her name, so how did he know she was in the hospital? As I said, there's something wrong. He's also got quite a temper but he seems to have a reasonably amount of control over it. Anyway, I'd like a cop in with her until she is conscious, just to be safe. I don't know what the others got but I think we need to talk to Angela if she regains consciousness because we need some more information. It sounds like it's touch and go whether she'll recover at all. I don't know if Sam has told you but things were a bit unusual down at the scene. Anyway, I've already taken a few notes from Mr Thompson and I'll bring them in when Sam turns up. Could you run a check on Mr Quinn Thompson, just moved down from L.A. last week and Jennifer Kenora Hirschorn from Boulder, Colorado. She appeared with him for some reason. Anyway, just thought I'd get things started before I get in. I've also asked the hospital to send along their diagnosis to the station as soon as they can. I'll check on Mr Thompson's alibi tomorrow. " The captain was quiet for a second or two and Kate remembered 'Slammer' Daley's joke. She could almost imagine the cogs slowly beginning to turn. "It's ok, Kate. Just come into the station when your replacement gets there. Sam's still at the scene. I'll tell him your going to come in later. Give me a run down when you come in." Monday, June 5th, 1995 9:25 a.m. "Kate! You look like shit!" Kate looked up from the printer, scowling at Mike Boundy's unsolicited comment. "Thanks, Mike. You always know how to cheer a girl up." Jim Olivas came over, munching a donut. He started to hand Boundy a coffee, but handed Kate the paper cup instead. "You look like you need this more," he said. "Thanks a lot!" Mike shook his head, heading back to the coffee machine to get his own cup. "Staying a little late?" Jim observed. "Your shift was up ages ago. Mike and I are just heading home." "I was just waiting for some information to come in from L.A. You guys file the report on the John Doe?" "Yea, O'Neill put it on Norden's desk. He's shitting bricks, even as we speak." Norden was the Chief of the Santa Cruz police and a heavyweight, both in politics and in physical stature. "You want to bet it'll be hushed up?" Jim added. "I don't even have an opinion," Kate replied, still watching her printout. "Smart. You'll make sergeant in no time with an attitude like that," Jim said wryly. "Cmon, Jim. Hometime." Mike returned with his coffee and tapped Jim on the shoulder. "Good morning Kate." She nodded as the two left. "Oh Kate!" Mike shouted back. Kate turned. "Nice bit of work about trying to rescue that young couple. You've got balls - I mean that!" "I'll take that as a complement," Kate smiled. Then suddenly, she thought of something. "Hey! How'd you hear about that?" She hadn't told anyone, fearing that her injury would take her off duty. "Shit! It was all over the news last night. KCBA had a nice little spot on you climbing into an ambulance. I didn't know you were so photogenic," Mike smiled. The two waved goodbye. Kate groaned. The news! She vaguely remembered seeing a news van there, after the paramedics had arrived. She'd forgotten all about it. Her printout finished, Kate ripped it off and headed back for the desk. She pushed Sam's feet off her desk and turned on her terminal. She winced as her back touched the seat. She hadn't told anyone how much it had hurt. The doctor examining her had insisted she take a week off work. Of course, she wasn't about to do that. "Go home, Sam" she insisted. Sam woke up and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?" Looking at his watch confirmed his fears. "Oh! Damn, now I'll have to call Rita. She's probably worried shitless." "Call her and go home. It's past your bedtime." "Oh, don't get cocky with me, little girl. I swear, I'm not going until you get out of here. For christsakes! Get a life! You want to end up like a burned out cop, married to his job, on the threshold of divorce and alcoholism? Look at where you're heading." "You mean," Kate said, looking back at Sam, "will I become like you?" Sam shook his head. "Hey! I don't have to take this abuse from you. I've got a wife that'll do that for me." He got up, rubbed his eyes and tapped her on the shoulder. "See ya kid. Get some rest. You've been through a lot." "I'll read this and go home," she promised. Sam nodded and tapped Kate on the head with his cap. "See ya tonight, Kate." "G'night, Sam." Sam left and finally free from his overprotective presence, Kate was able to concentrate on what she'd found thus far. Nothing had come up on Jennifer Hirschorn, other than a couple of minor traffic violations - speeding - back in Colorado. And even that had taken some digging. Quinn Thompson, however, appeared to be a much more elusive figure. His record was clean, on the surface. But Quinn's name had come up before in a police investigation. He had been questioned in the brutal death of a drug dealer and pimp. The dead man was an Italian national who'd been living in California under an assumed name of Gerald Di Biasi. His real name was unknown and it was only from associates that the police realized that he was Italian. In fact, his body had been claimed and shipped back to Italy by the Italian consulate in Los Angeles. According to the fax sent to Katherine by one Lieutenant Meusnier of the L.A.P.D., Quinn had been been questioned, along with an associate of Quinn's, a certain Derek Miles, about Di Biasi's murder. In a curious twist, Quinn had taken Di Biasi's infant daughter, Claudia, into his care, legally adopting her over the objections of the Italian government. Meusnier suspected Quinn of having pull in the courts. Di Biasi's girlfriend, who was the young girl's mother, was a prostitute named, Maryanne Fiorentino, from Akron, Ohio. She'd been killed in the same retaliatory attack that had killed Di Biasi. The two of them had been tortured, then shot in the head, presumably in retaliation for a bad drug deal. The most curious thing about the case though had nothing to do with Di Biasi's murder. In investigating Thompson, Meusnier had traced Quinn back to New Orleans, where Thompson said he'd been born. There was a record of a Quinn Thompson having been born. But though it was recorded in the registers, no search could uncover any copy of an actual birth certificate. In fact, hospital officials in New Orleans had told Meusnier that they had numbered copies of all birth certificates for that year, and that none of the numbers seemed to be missing. There were copies for the births before and after Thompson's, but it seemed no actual certificate had been placed on file for Thompson, save for his entry in the birth register. As the delivering doctor was long dead, Meusnier could take it no further. The only other observation Meusnier made, a strange one at that, was to state that he thought that Thompson might once have been a cop. He didn't give any reason for this supposition. Kate pulled out her notebook and checked through her notes for the evening. In interviewing the security guards at the Boardwalk, she noted that none had remembered seeing either Angela or Richard. This was hardly surprising given the crowds there on a Saturday night. Though Angela was the same girl in Quinn's photograph, the description of Richard, as given by Thompson, didn't match the John Doe who'd kidnapped Angela at the park. He dead man was older, well groomed and had been wearing very expensive clothes and shoes, Italian labels. Hmm, Italian, Kate thought. Going on with her notes, she noted that the description of Richard was in his late teens, dressed in a goth-punk style - leather, studs, an earing, but otherwise clean cut and well groomed. However, Quinn had said that Richard had light brown hair. Going on, Sam and the others had found nothing more to illuminate them on the origin of the kidnapper, save that Angela had jumped out of a van, later determined to have been rented, and had been rescued by several bystanders when she screamed. The rental agency proved uncooperative. It was apparent the van had been paid for in cash and they had been willing to allow its use with no driver's licence or other identity. Kate wasn't sure this last was legal, but decided she would let the D.A. handle that one - for now. Next, she'd called the hospital to check on Jim and Donna. The news was bad, but better than she'd expected. Jim was dead. Donna was alive, in serious but stable condition. Quite a shame, Kate thought, shaking her head. If only I'd woken up sooner. Last, she asked around about the cougar hunt going up in the mountains. Careful inquires with the Sheriff's department garnered her only one response. - Don't ask. As for Unity Temple, it was located at the corner of Seabright and Broadway. It was supposedly an eclectic mix of philosophies, incorporating tenets of all major religions. It was headed by a woman, named Reverend Joy. Formulating a time line for Quinn, Kate summarized the following: Quinn's Thompson was born Claudia Di Biasi on April 3rd, 1981. Her name was legaly changed to Angela Thompson, on court papers that said both the adoption and name change would become legal on February 16th, 1984. (Presiding Judge was one Alfred Kelly. Quinn's attorney was one Simon Cathcart, of the firm, Briggs, Cathcart and Gunnlach.) Angela's natural parents were believed to have been murdered on August 6th, 1983. Checking her messages, Kate saw that Bill Johnson had left a message for her. Shit!, she thought. Bill was probably already in bed. Still, she called. "Morgue, Johnson speaking." Katherine smiled into the handset. "I'd thought you'd be in bed," she admitted. "Naw, too much going on. That fellr you tried to rescue, he turned out to be a very interesting case." "And why was that?" Kate asked. "It'd be better if I showed ya," Bill told her. "I'll be there in ten minutes," she said, hanging up the phone. As soon as she'd hung up the phone, however, it rang back at her. "Morrison." "Kate, Chief Norden wants to see you, ASAP." "Shit!" Kate whispered. "What was that?" the duty sergeant asked. "Oh, nothing. I'll be right there." Monday, June 5th, 1995 10:40 a.m. "Well, ten minutes stretches farther than it used to," Bill Johnson observed upon seeing Katherine. "Sorry Bill. I got called at the last minute to the Chief's office. Looks like they want to give me some sort of commendation." "Well, you deserve it," Bill said in his no nonsense manner. "No, actually, the Chief and Mayor want to promote a more positive image for the police department. Too many complaints about police hassling civilians and too much flak about not catching the `Hacker.'" She looked uneasily at the double doors leading to the exam room and body lockers. "What'ya got for me?" Bill led her through the doors. There were three corpses, covered in white plastic sheets. Seeing her gaze, Bill commented, "Busy night." "I guess so," Kate nodded. Bill removed the cover on the left hand corpse. It was Jim. Katherine thought it was so strange to see him lying on the table, dead like that, when he'd been alive just two days ago. But there was no denying that Jim was very dead. He was pasty white and had dark blemishes where he'd been burned. Bill let her be quiet for a moment, then he turned Jim's head. "Look here," he said, indicating Jim's neck. Kate looked and saw two swollen puncture marks. They looked just like the wounds she'd seen on Angela Thompson. "He was dead before you got to him," Bill announced. "How?" Kate asked. "No blood. There wasn't a drop in him." Kate looked back at Jim's neck. "Oh come on now, Bill! You're not suggesting?" "I am not suggesting anything, Katie. I'm just letting you know what I found. All this reminds me of a situation back in `53. Hopefully, not the same situation, but I don't know." Bill cast a suspicious eye back to the corpse. "Well, I'm off to home. Got to get some sleep. What about you?" he asked. "Sleep?" Kate looked at him. "You've got to be kidding." Kate pounded her head in frustration. The micro-fiche system of the Santa Cruz County Public Library was lacking. It was not computerized and involved searching through ream after ream of film, trying to find any articles in either the Santa Cruz Sentinal or the Register Pajaronian that dealt with a specific year - that being 1953. There was a lot of reading to do, with two daily papers for a whole year. Not wanting to miss any obscure references, Kate made sure that her search was thorough. She'd been in the library micro-fiche room Monday, June 5th, 1995 11:47 a.m. Dust billowed up from the top of the cabinet as Kate dropped the file down onto it. Her sneeze echoed around the small room. Opening the file, she fished out the casenotes and added them to the pile on the wooden table. " Well that's it." she said to herself " No more cases left in 1953. It has to be in this pile." She started to flick through the notes looking for any similarity to what Bill had showed her. Her eyelids started to feel heavy and all the typing seemed to blur together before it went black. Monday, June 5th, 1995 2:11 p.m. Kate screamed in pain as she felt something slap into her back. She turned to see Josh Strafford looking at her in confusion. " Don't fucking do that again " she said resting her upper body atop the table. Taking a deep breath she turned back to him. " Sorry, my fault. I should be back home. Just try not to touch my back for a while. It's a bit painful " A pair of running feet grew louder outside the room. " Sounds to me like you should be in hospital " said Josh as the door to the records room was flung open. Sergeant Costikan rushed into the room followed by Andy Young. Both looked around the room before heading towards Kate's table. " What happened? It sounded like someone dying. Are you both ok?" he said looking genuinely concerned for once. It made a big difference to the wry grin he usually had on the front desk. Kate looked up at Josh and then put up her hand. " It was me. My back's a bit sore and Josh picked a bad place to slap ". Costikan eyed her suspiciously and then looked at Josh for confirmation. The nodding head brought the sergeant's gaze back to Kate. " Ok. Just don't scream like that again or you'll have half the station down here. Get that desk cleared up and get out of here. Your back on duty in under 6 hours so get some sleep. By the way," the grin came back to his face, " you look really awful". Monday, June 5th, 1995 2:26 p.m. The lights changed to red as her bike chased down towards them. With one foot down the engine idled as Kate waited for the change. She thought about the ups and downs she'd found in the last few days and what she felt she had to do. There had been no sign of Skags at his usual haunts so Kate had resolved to track him down on patrol at night. She'd seen the Captain and asked about her description of Jim and Donna's friend but there hadn't been any progress. No-one else seemed to have seen her. All she could do was wait and that was something she didn't do well. Her mother used to lecture her on the virtue of patience but she'd never been able to master it. Even the time she had spent looking through the case files had probably been a waste of time. Bill was probably talking about a case up in San Francisco as he had only come to Santa Cruz later. She gunned the bike in frustration waiting for the lights to change. Monday, June 5th, 1995 2:37 p.m. As her bike toured up to the apartment block, Kate felt a shudder flow through her spine as she looked up at the building. What remained of the blackened panes above her apartment looked ready to drop out at any minute. She dropped her head and headed through the archway to her flat. The answering machine beeped insistently as Kate opened the door. She quickly snapped the lock shut and headed across to the telephone. The first two messages were someone hanging up the phone, but the third held a familiar voice. " Hi Kate, It's Jane. I need to see you. I've been checking into some of the wierdness recently and I've come up with something even stranger. Give me a call. I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Tell me when you finish and I'll meet you. Any time at all. I need to talk to you." The date on the message showed it had arrived the day previously so Kate phoned The Sentinel immediately. " Hello. Can I speak to Jane Bishop, please? It's Kate Morrison. " " Sorry, she went out an hour ago. Can I take a message?" the voice on the phone asked. " Yes, tell her that Kate phoned. I'm off at 2:30 a.m. this morning so if she wants to talk to me she can meet me off my shift". Monday, June 5th, 1995 3:14 p.m. Kate was surprised when Jane pulled up in her car, inviting her out for a late lunch. Seated over pasta salad and beer at Erik's Deli on Water, Jane filled Kate in on what she'd discovered. Apparently, Jane had done some digging through the "Dead Files" back at the "Senile", as Jane like to refer to it. The Dead Files were dead end stories or stories that for some reason were buried and if they weren't destroyed, they were locked away. "Anyway," Jane went on, "back in the old days when the Sentinel actually hired real reporters instead of buying press of the Wire, there was this one fellow called Frankie Wylie. Well ole Wylie supposedly had a penchant for digging out dirt on corruption. I was digging through his dead files when I came up with all these half written stories about people who'd disappeared and were found dead. Get this, and then, according to Frankie, who was known to hit the bottle a few too many times, some of these people were claimed to have been spotted AFTER they'd been buried, often in other cities like San Jose, Salinas or Sacramento. And they were spotted by relatives, but ran away and disappeared when confronted." Kate had a weird feeling at the back of her neck. She rubbed her neck and found that several hairs were standing rigidly, and that her arms were covered in goosebumps. Jane went on. "Well, ole "Weirdo Wylie" complained in his notes that he was ORDERED to shut up about everything and his stories were run out of town. I found out from this guy, named Ed Trent, who works in the press room and who actually knew Wylie, that he was eventually fired and then moved up to work for some paper in Seattle." "How did the victims die?" Kate asked. "Exsanguination. They were drained of blood." Jane sipped her beer. "Isn't that to die for?" Jane's eyes widened but it was obvious that she didn't give much credence to the stories either. Jane saw the bemused expression on Kate's face. "You O.K?" Kate smiled and nodded. "Just thinking." "Anyway, from talking to the guy who works graveyards monitoring the Police scanner, there HAVE been others, not just recently, but over the last few years. At least seven people, maybe more, have been found dead of blood loss. It's all being hushed up, not just by my bosses, but yours too! - And the mayor!" "Keep your voice down," Kate whispered. Actually, though disappointing, the news didn't surprise Kate. She often suspected that more graphic news didn't make it's way to the public. In a tourist town, unsolved murders were very bad for business. She'd witnessed a few busts herself that never made it to the papers, but nothing on this order. "So, what're you doing tonight?" Jane asked. "I'm having dinner with Ray," Kate said, blushing slightly. "I feel so bad. I've been putting him off so much lately. But first thing tomorrow, I'm going to have to make some calls." "On your day off!" Jane protested. "You know, that's a sin. They keep you out of heaven for that," she said in mock seriousness. "Hey!" Kate smirked, "I'm a cop. All cops go to heaven. It's in our contract." Jane smiled. Tuesday June 6th, 1995 9:33 a.m. Kate called Dominican to check on the status of Angela Thompson. She found out that Angela had already been discharged to the care of her father. The nurse said she was doing much better and had already given a statement to police, saying that she remembered nothing of what happened - probably due to post traumatic disorder, a kind of amnesia related around violent or traumatic events. Donna was also doing better, but wasn't due to get out any time soon. However, other news was not so good. After a brief recovery, young Emily Speake, who was in the hospital after having allegedly been attacked by a Mister Timothy James, had suffered a relapse - the cause - blood loss due to an indeterminate source. Doctors had no answers as yet. Doctor Fust was the presiding Doctor in the Speake girl's case. Again, Kate had that creeping feeling at the base of her neck and along her spine. Tuesday June 6th, 1995 9:43 a.m. Trying to call Bill Johnson at the Coroner's Office proved fruitless. Bill had taken the day off and was taking his wife to Big Sur. He wouldn't be back until Wednesday. Neither the F.B.I. nor Interpol had contacted the S.C.P.D. about their John Doe. Nothing from the Italian Consulate in San Francisco, either. She had better luck in getting a hold of Agent Murphy. Apparently, the Feds were declaring the cougar hunt a success and had called off all further efforts. Several cats had been killed and a token amount had been captured for release elsewhere. It was reluctantly admitted that none of the animals were suspected in Thursday's attack. Kate had asked Murphy if she was done and was leaving. Murphy replied by saying that both she and her partner, one Steve de LaRocha, were staying on in Santa Cruz for an indefinite period, researching some other leads. However, Murphy proved to be rather cryptic and evasive when it came to elaborating those points. Kate thanked her and hung up. Perhaps, Murphy would be more obliging in person. Tuesday June 6th, 1995 6:07 p.m. Kate was enroute to Unity Temple, to interview Reverend Joy and see if Thompson had dropped Angela back off there when who should she see but Skags, walking up Soquel towards Branciforte. Skags had I.D'd Kate and ducked into the parking lot behind Shopper's Corner. It didn't work though as Kate made a sharp right on Branciforte and cut into the parking lot from the other side. She cornered Skags by a large oak that grew, surrounded by asphalt, in the back lot. "So, Skags, how ya doin?" Kate asked, smiling. Skags shook his head. "Oh, I know that look," he accused her. "You want me lookin inta things a body has no right and business lookin inta." Tuesday June 6th, 1995 6:10 p.m. " No Skags, why would I want you to do that. All I want you to do is fulfil your civic duty. There's nothing wrong with that." Her predatory smile seemed to shake Skags a little. " I want you to keep your eye out for this man. You might know him. He has a small shop called Hidden World on Cedar Street. I just want you to keep a watch on it for me. He has a teenage daughter. I don't know what's going on there but I'd like to make sure that someone is keeping an eye on her. I'd appreciate any information you can get on any of her friends, especially her boyfriend, a young guy called Richard, that I'd like to have a very heavy chat with. There's something strange happening there so don't put yourself at any risk, but see if you can get me some more information." Skags seemed to have regained his courage. Either that or he scented a chance to make some money. " What do I get out of dis little job? I'd be spending my valuable time doing dis for you. " " Skags, you'd be doing me a favour. And you know I'll keep it in mind in the future. Plus I'll cover any expenses you incur." Turning to look directly at him she added " within reason. Anyway, I've got to go see a priest about a man." Walking off Kate turned back towards the tree that Skags rested on. " Oh yeah, Skags, did you find anything out about Beach Flats murders?" Skags stopped and turned around looking a bit sheepish. " Nope, nobody knows nothin about it." Kate looked back at him with a questioning look on her face. " 'onest, I couldn't find out anyfing. Nobody knew nothin." She started walking away from him and commented over her shoulder " I hope I haven't picked the wrong person for the job. See you on Cedar Street, Tony." Driving off, Kate couldn't help shivering. However tough she tried to look to everyone else, she knew that she was in over her head. Suppressed news reports of vampires or ghosts, hunts for cougar/werewolves, and corpses appearing with their spines snapped in two. Something was seriously wrong with Santa Cruz. It was as if someone had released all the nightmares she'd ever had into the world. Everything had seemed so simple only a couple of weeks previously. She'd just done her job, arrested crooks and screamed blue murder when the courts let them off. Black & White. Annoying and irritating but Black & White. Now, the roof had fallen in on her. She didn't have any idea what exactly was happening but the more she found out, the more she wished she didn't know. Nothing could be the same again. Tuesday June 6th, 1995 8:40 p.m. "You're a patient person," Reverend Joy commented, observing Kate, who was seated somewhat uncomfortably upon a hard broad oak chair that was seemingly hand carved. The Reverend was commenting on Kate's willingness to wait two hours for an interview. Kate was sure that the Reverend had only agreed because Kate was obviously not going away. "How old is this chair?" Kate asked, straying from the subject at hand. "Old." was all the answer she got. However, the answer came with a very beautiful smile. Reverend Alana Joy cut an interesting figure. Though small boned and frail seeming, her voice and icy blue eyes carried quite a presence with them. When she spoke, her eyes seemed to gaze at one, penetrating all the subterfuge that humankind used for emotional protection. Revealed thus, exposed in all the awkwardness of contrived social habits, it didn't seem hard to realize why one felt so awkward, hearing that mesmerizing voice and seeing that stare. "You seem to be all engaged in some activity," Kate said, looking out at the white-robed acolytes filing into a grey bus, marked "Unity Temple." Joy smiled. "Yes, we're going out on a camping trip tonight. We're going to contemplate oneness and being with the universe, out under the stars." "Where are you going?" Kate ventured to ask. "Somewhere where the fog will not obstruct our view, assuming there is any. Would you care to join us?" "As a convert or as an observer?" Kate asked, obviously uninterested. "How about as a friend," came the reply. "Perhaps, some other time. So, you're sure that there's nothing to add about Angela Thompson?" The Reverend paused, as if thinking. She smoothed out her Bali cloth robe and then, looking once more into Kate's eyes, said, "No, I've told you all I know. Angela was simply placed here. She ran off. As I told her father, we're not jailers. We can only help those who wish us to." Try as she might, Kate found that she couldn't meet that gaze. Always, she was forced to look down, as if by looking up, she might be revealed as naked and defenseless. "Well, thank you," Kate said, getting up. "My pleasure," the Reverend told her. "Perhaps we can be of greater help some other time. There are other ways to help, you know." Kate merely nodded and then left. Tuesday June 6th 9:20 p.m. The Hidden World. It was a modest shop, painted in bright pastel colours which was strange given its stock of wares. It was an occult shop. Kate couldn't see much, gazing inside. What she could see was that it was closed. She could also see an apartment above the shop. Many of the apartments on Pacific had entrances to the rear, if the couldn't be entered from the shop as well. Backtracking to Walnut, Kate soon found a back alleyway that led to a stairway. The stairway of course, led to the apartment above Quinn's shop, presumably Quinn's apartment. Kate knocked but there was no answer. The door looked brand new and hadn't even been painted yet. Looking around to see that no one was present, Kate tried to jimmy the lock (1 success) and with not a little effort, was finally able to push the door open. She saw at once why a new door was needed. Bits of the older one lay strewn across the floor, along with a crushed coffee table and bits of glassware. It had been quite a fight. "They're not home," a voice told her. Kate turned quickly around, her hand going at once to rest on her gun. It was Skags. Kate leaned against the door jamb and breathed a sigh of relief. "Skags, don't ever do that. Don't sneak up on someone like that." "Is that what they teach cops these days?" he asked her, looking at the open door. His meaning was obvious. "Nevermind," Kate snapped. "I'm paying you to keep an eye on Quinn. Where is he?" she asked, spying a stain on the rug that looked suspiciously like dried blood. "And where's his daughter, Angela?" "Ah, he's got her with some old crone at a place on Beach Street. He, his friend and that young blond thing went off to the Bryce House." "Bryce House?" Skags gave her a queer look. "How long you been livin here?" he asked. "Anyway, take my advice, and don't go anywhere near that place. It's as evil a place as that that bore the devil hisself. You mark my words." With that, Skags stomped off down the stairway. Tuesday, June 6th, 1995 9:30 P.M. Kate received a sealed letter from Dr. Lawrence discussing the details of the bloodloss victims. It had been left on her desk. It detailed the following observations. All three (Emily Speake, Angela Thompson and Donna Tirado) were all young healthy females approximating ages between 14 and 24. All were caucasian. All were within their ideal weights and fat ratio given their ages. All had distinct puncture marks on the neck, which upon examining the wounds, gave different measurements as to distance between punctures. Those of Thompson and Tirado had the same distance, while those on Speake appear to have had a shorter spacing, indicating a smaller mouth. All appeared to have been done with a very sharp instrument or instruments. There was no sign of infection. Examination of saliva remnants from the purported attacker(s) had not returned from the lab. In fact, the samples sent off were somehow misplaced and there was no replacement. The lab was located in Mountain View. Doctor Lawrence could offer no explanation for these wounds but said in his statement that he doubted that they were done by a wild animal. 1. Where is Bryce House and what is it like? (visited at day! Well more like driven past during the day ) A: Bryce House is an old estate house built in the 20's, Bryce House is located on Capitola Avenue. 2. Did Kate feel uncomfortable in Reverend Joy's office for any other reason than her piercing gaze? A: No. 3. Can I track down Angela on Beach street, and/or check whether there has been an interview taken with Angela about her abduction? If not Kate will try to on her first night back (Thursday). [Check Jennifer Hirschorn's apartment on Beach Hill first off and check if there is a Hirschorn on Beach Street if Angela isn't there!] A: There are at least twenty plus concerns that rent daily rooms on Beach St. and environs. No interview is on file concerning her abduction. 4. What friend did Skags say was with Mr Thompson & Ms Hirschorn? Or did he say? If he didn't Kate would have tried to clear it up when he said it, get a name and/or description. A: A large fellow with a beard - called Derek. 5. Did Quinn Thompson report either burglary (the one/fight that had obviously happen to destroy the original door or Kate's little escapade)? Were there any reports on noise from neighbours of Quinn? Check very carefully ostensibly as part of the kidnapping investigation. (oh yeah, Kate was wearing gloves when she broke in because she knows how people usually get caught) A: No report, either by Quinn or neighbours. 6. Does Kate have a phone number for Ray Blanchette or has she waited for him to phone her? What generally are the hours he works and hours he might be able to meet Kate during the week? A: Yes, she has both a work and home phone no. Thursday June 8th, 1995 5:35 p.m. The grey metal lockers stood to either side of Kate as she walked into the female locker room. Being early for her shift, Kate wasn't surprised to find herself alone in the room. There weren't many other women who worked at the station house and most of them were secretaries who didn't use the lockers. Kate sat down on the bench between the lockers and undressed, popping her locker to get the soap, towel and shampoo, before heading into the showers. The water ran hot quickly and pounding streams of water began to remove the feeling of tension from her shoulders. Normally she'd have had a shower at her flat before coming in but she didn't feel safe in her own flat these days. Perhaps, catching part of Psycho late the previous night hadn't helped but if someone could kill Jimmy in the flat above, then she wasn't safe there especially with the weird information she kept finding out. She shivered and tried to think of something else, anything else, that might make her feel better Instantly, those pair of deep blue eyes she now knew so well came to mind. Ray had picked her up the previous night without telling her where they were going. All he would say was that it'd make a nice change for both of them. When they arrived at Emi's, the band that was playing had just started up their set and, almost before she had unshipped her jacket, Ray had pulled her onto the dancefloor. At that she began to laugh because she couldn't remember the last time she'd actually danced. Although they had to leave early to let Ray get to work Kate had a wonderful evening. They spent most of it either up on the dancefloor or just talking about absolutely anything. He was so easy to talk to and he wasn't a bad dancer either. She found herself looking forward to the slower numbers when Ray would hold her tight and they'd rock along to the music. It was amazing to think that she'd only met him slightly over a week previously. The one cloud on the evening came when Ray asked her if she wanted to tell him something. She momentarily thought about unburdening herself to him but what did she have but weird facts and even stranger possibilities, so she said that it was just something to do with work and he left it at that. As the water cascaded down from her hair she realised that it had been the most fun she'd had in months and how much she had needed it. She wished Ray could be with her now in the shower making her feel loved again but life wasn't that convenient. Kate pulled the crisp uniform from her locker and laid it down in front of her. One by one she put it on and carefully placed her own back into the locker. She couldn't help thinking about all the strange things that had been happening recently. She'd tried to find Skags during the day but there was no sign of him. She'd also swung by Bryce House during the previous day. It was an old large estate house on Capitola Avenue but there wasn't any apparent activity or any sign of Thompson there. All it meant was that she'd either have to check the boarding houses Friday afternoon or catch him if he opened up his occult shop. When she'd come in she'd asked Jane from records to check into the Unity Temple and it's Reverend Joy, just in case. She'd also asked her to check out the description of Quinn's friend Derek. Also, unfortunately, she could only leave a message for Detective Murphy asking her to contact her when she could. At least Ray had managed to arrange Sunday's details for the concert. A sense of apprehension built as she reached back into the locker for her gun. Something worried her and she checked it and her loaders carefully before packed them away. Turning back, she cast about with her hand into the depths of the locker and pulled out small metal flask. She leaned into the locker hiding the flask from view and poured what remained of the bourbon down her throat. It continued to burn beautifully as it's warmth spread throughout her body. " Kate, you ready yet? Things are beginning to heat up " It was Sam so she flicked the cap back on, locked up and headed out for another night of madness. Thursday June 8th, 1995 9:47 p.m. The car radio crackled into life for the umpteenth time already. " 244 Robbery in progress, [number] Mission & Laurel. All cars in the vicinity please respond. Kate stepped on the pedal and the cruiser sped through the night. Sam looked over and tried his best to break the silence. " Well, looks like the junkies are out tonight in force. 3 drug stores and a Mini-Mart hit in the last 2 hours. Someone's working overtime and I hope it isn't us." " Yeah, but I'll bet it is." Thursday, June 8th, 1995 10:19 p.m. Responding to a silent alarm from the 7-Eleven on Laurel, Kate and Sam had found themselves involved in a brief car chase down Walnut, practically past police H.Q., down Water and up May. The suspect, driving a beat up 65 Chevy sedan with stolen plates, had ditched the car after crossing over to Emeline and was last seen running over a foot bridge that crossed the creek. They had been forced to ditch their car also, pursuing on foot, expecting him to shoot a gun at them any minute. It didn't take either Kate or Sam long, after scanning the streets and bushes to figure the suspect had jumped the bridge and had landed into the creek in an act of desperation. They couldn't see him, but they could hear him splashing through the ankle deep water. Turning her head back, Kate thought she could hear distant sirens sounding. Though overpressed in a night of crisis, Dispatch had managed to find them some backup from somewhere. Kate wanted to suggest waiting, but Sam was already searching for a less dangerous route down to the creek bed than jumping from the footbridge. Grabbing a willow sapling, Sam slid down the bank into the creek bed. He waved her head and Kate ran down Emeline, skirting the creek, hoping to cut the suspect off ahead. Grabbing her radio of of her shoulder, she reported in to Dispatch so that they could help guide their backup. Startling some young kids who'd been necking and smoking pot, Kate ran past them, having other more pressing concerns for the moment. Running on towards the old hospital, Kate jumped a chain link fence and then lowered herself over the wall of the creek channel, dropping to her feet on the flat concrete. The confined creek trickled soullessly to her left. Ahead, she could see Sam's flashlight flickering this way and that, searching. Drawing her gun, she readied herself, figuring that the suspect must be near. Sam had nearly reached her when the suspect jumped from side, though where he'd found cover against that barren concrete wall, Kate could not later say, - and jumped Sam even as her partner was turning to fire. The suspect, though not a large man by any means, whacked Sam on the head and then tossed the burly veteran policeman back into the creek. Kate ordered the suspect to freeze but when he turned on her, snarling, she fired twice, hitting him both times. The suspect went down, his body falling dead square in the middle of the meagre summer trickle of the creek's flow. Keeping on eye on him, Kate ignored police procedure to check up on her downed partner. "You alright?" she asked him as Sam started to get up. His wide eyed surprise warned her even before he called out, "Look Out!" A heavy blow that felt like it was from a sledge hammer crunched her spine and threw her face first against the ground. Sam was on his feet, and had jumped the suspect, only to be thrown away again, landing this time against the concrete wall. He lay still at that point. Kate fumbled for her gun and turned, firing just as the suspect was on her, his maniacal white face illuminated in her shaky flashlight beam. The force of the bullet tearing through the man's body threw him backward. But like a nightmare, he seemed unphased and just got up, coming at her again. She fired twice, hitting him once in the forehead, the man's brains splattering out behind him. Satisfied that she had finally finished the drugged out maniac, she started to refocus, eyeing the dead man suspiciously nonetheless. A terrible cold chill clamped on to her every muscle as the dead man, for surely he'd had to have been dead, twitched and started to get up. She fired three more times, but her hand was badly shaking and she only hit him once in the leg. Then her gun clicked empty. The man, his face still torn from her previous shot, got up, his mouth dripping blood. Impossibly, he lurched to his feet, reaching for her like a drunk for his bottle. She backed away but he still came after her, determined to grab her. Sirens sounded loudly up above them, making the suspect pause and turn his head. As more powerful flashlight beams shone down into the creek bed, the suspect ran off. Kate made a feeble attempt to follow, but only managed to twist her ankle in a rock as the creek left the manmade channel and resumed it's more natural life in a dense overgrown bed. When the other cops found her, she was hyperventilating and her skin was cold with a clammy sweat. Thursday, June 8th, 1995 11:26 p.m. "Here, drink this," "Kitty" Calderon handed her a cup of tea while the doctor finished attending to Sam's cut scalp and twisted ankle. Her own ankle wasn't as bad. Neither of them had fared too well, but considering what could have happened, it didn't seem all that bad. Kitty turned to Sam. "So, what do you think, Sam?" Sam shook his head. "I don't know. I was unconscious for a minute or two I guess. But if Kate says she hit the guy, then she hit him" "I hit him," Kate continued to insist, steading her shaking hands so she could drink the tea. In her back, there was a dull burning feeling that she could feel, even through the heavy pain killer she'd been injected with. She'd been so scared, that even thinking about the incident was giving her the shakes. "I hit him six times, including a shot right through his head." "Then how come there's no body?" Kitty asked her. "We keep coming back to that." He laid a hand on Kate's shoulder. "Look Kate, it was dark. You were in a fight. You can't be sure you hit the guy. We didn't find a lot of blood, besides yours and Sam's that is, and if you really had hit the guy the way you said you did, then we'd have a body. And we don't have a body, plain and simple." Kate thought about saying something but kept silent, having no answer for Kitty. When Kate heard the Doctor return, she turned but immediately felt a sharp pain in her back from where the suspect had clubbed her with such ferocious strength. The doctor pulled a series of x-rays out of a folder, but Kate cut her off. "I don't want the long story. Just tell me the short version," Kate insisted. The doctor's answer was very short, taking only one word. "Surgery," she told Kate. Saturday, June 10th, 1995 11:10 a.m. "Well, I appreciate that you all put me through in such a hurry, but really, I have to get out of here. I have tickets to a concert tonight and there's no way I'm missing it," Kate said defiantly. "There's no way you're leaving here before tomorrow morning," Nurse Sullivan told her. "Don't think I won't sedate you if you don't behave. It takes time to recover from back surgery and you should start getting used to that idea." Kate silently swore at the matronly nurse, vowing that if she ever came across her in an official duty - that no traffic fine could ever be too high. Kate looked to her right. Her bed was too far from the room's only window which, had she been closer, would have given her an excellent view of the parking lot below and the midday traffic on Soquel. Sniffing the heavy air, Kate turned her drugged eyes towards the several bouquets were strewn around the room, one particularly generous one of purple roses and baby's breath propped strategically beside her. She recognized Ray's writing on the card. The others turned out to be from her fellow cops, her mom and dad, one from Bill Johnson and another from Sam and his wife. She half thought about reading Ray's card, but the drugs overtook her mind and she knew she was drifting off into sleep. She tried to talk, even to the crusty nurse in hope of staving off yet more slumberous oblivion. "Umm, do you know a Doctor Lawrence? I think he works here?" The nurse gave Kate a queer look. "Yes, I know him." "Would you give him a message for me?" Kate asked her. Nurse Sullivan didn't answer right away so Kate repeated her question, thinking that she might have slurred her words beyond recognition. "The Doctor's on a leave of absence," the nurse told Kate. "Really?" Kate was surprised. Something in the nurse's voice made her suspicious. "Why?" Kate asked her. The nurse pursed her lip. Looking around, a rather silly gesture given that the door was closed, the nurse came closer to Kate's bed and whispered. "I shouldn't tell you this, but since you're a police woman, I guess that it's O.K. Doctor Lawrence was involved in a fight on Wednesday night. It's rather confusing, but someone broke in here and tried to kill that Speake girl. Doctor Lawrence just happened upon the scene. Two sheriff's deputies were killed and it turns out that the Capitola Police, following the man who'd originally been accused of attacking her, followed That man into the hospital and ended up helping him shoot the attacker, who apparently got away. Poor Doctor Lawrence was badly hurt, it was said. But" The nurse's voice went even lower. "But, a friend of mine who's seeing one of the hospital morgue attendants told me that Doctor Lawrence was actually killed, and that someone stole his body, just like that John Doe they found on Beach Hill last week. If you ask me, there's some very scary, very strange things going on that no one wants to talk about." Kate tried to shake herself awake, but even with this startling news, she was still fast drifting off. "Did they get the man who attacked the girl?" Kate asked. "No," Kate heard the nurse answer. "Like I said, he got away. And I heard that the police INSISTED that they'd shot him enough times to kill an elephant." "Probably wearing a bulletproof vest," Kate whispered back. The last thought that entered her head was that Kitty Calderon had addressed those same words to her unbelieving ears. Sunday, June 11th, 1995 10:04 a.m. Sam wheeled Kate out to his van. His wife, Rita, held the door open so it wouldn't spring back on them. "Nice of you folks to come and get me," Kate smiled. "Oh, don't be silly," Rita chided her. "I still think you should come back to our place. I don't know how you're going to get any rest in that apartment of yours, with all that work going on." Rita was referring to the contractors working to repair the fire damage to Donna and Jim's apartment. "I rather be alone," Kate said, trying to sound grateful. "Thanks though." Sam drove the van while Rita bantered away in what became a background noise as Kate gazed out the window, her wheelchair tied firmly to the van's back seat, now folded up. When they got to her place, a young man with long dark hair, dressed in jeans, vest and a long-sleeved white shirt came up to greet her. His blue eyes seemed touched by bits of colour, the same as the lavender rose he held out for her. "Hello Ray," Kate smiled, allaying Sam's protective fears. "I'll take over," Ray volunteered, offering to shake Sam's hand. Sam only took it after Kate nodded. After brief introductions, Sam and Rita drove off only after Kate promised she would call if she needed anything. Both threatened that they would stop by every day, whether she called or not. "Friendly guy," Ray said dryly about Sam as the van drove off. "He's just being protective," Kate assured him. "You'll like him once you get to know him." Ray nodded and wheeled Kate inside her apartment. After she'd made herself comfortable with great difficulty, Ray put on a tape for her. "What the?" Kate said, recognizing the rock band playing on the tape. "I taped the concert," Ray told her. "You did?" Kate smiled, her smile at once vanishing into a frown. "Is that legal?" Ray shrugged. "You gonna arrest me?" She nodded. "Consider it done. Prisoner, I order you to go out and buy me a pesto and pepperoni pizza, extra cheese. This body has lived off of hospital food for too long." "Consider it done," Ray said. Sunday, June 11th, 1995 10:23 a.m. Ray must have left the door unlocked, Kate realized, waking up from yet another drug induced nap. The face coming into focus in front of her was blurry and unfamiliar. But the raspy voice and wilting breath were at once familiar. Skags! "What are you doing in my apartment?" Kate asked, trying to sit up and at once regretting it. "I heard you was hurt and I brought you some flowers." Skags held out a handful of dandelions he'd weeded from someone's lawn. The yellow flowers seemed cheerful nonetheless. Kate shook her head. "Thank you," she said weakly. "I'd better go run and put these in water," Skags insisted. Before she could protest, he'd run off into her kitchen. She could hear clanking glasses, and then the sound of rushing water. "Skags, what are you doing?" Kate asked, hearing something that suspiciously sounded like her fridge door opening. "Nothing," Skags called back. Given that he would help himself anyway, Kate at least went through the motion of offering. "Skags, there's beer in the fridge. Help yourself." Skags returned on the heel of her last syllable, toting an open bottle in one hand and a juice glass with the dandelions in the other. "Thanks," he smiled. sitting down in one of her chairs, making himself at home. Sunday, June 11th, 1995 10:26 a.m. Kate smiled to herself a bit as Skags sat down in the chair. He quickly took a swig out of the bottle and looked around. " Nice place you have here " he said, obviously making small talk as he drank his beer. She began to chuckle and a wince cut it short. " Thanks for the flowers Skags, nice thought. So, tell me Skags, how are you doing? How much money did you make this week with that fake veteran con. Ok, ok, I know. You don't con people, they just give into their generosity." She almost felt better having their usual one sided conversation. " What do you think of my new personal nurse? He's got nice buns, hasn't he." Again the wincing smile gave away her attempt at humour to hide her pain. " I hear I'm going to win the Most Unlucky Cop award this year hands down." Skags made a pretence at laughing at her jokes but obviously wasn't there for her horizontal stand-up routine. "Ok, we both know each other too well Skags. You wouldn't have come around here just to bring me the flowers, touching though they are. What fun have I missed in the last few days? Lots of unusual stuff going down as usual, right!" Skags snorted, nearly choking on his beer. "Lady, er, Maam - that's an understatement if I ever heard one. Where you want me to start? I've got murder, sick perversion, weird shit - and scary shit. Pick one." With the pain still sharply focussing her thoughts, Kate could only raise a smile at Skags comment. " Tell me about the weird and scary shit first Skags. Sounds like the stuff that I wouldn't hear in the papers, right? Who knows, with a bit of luck it can keep me awake until you've finished. Bloody drugs are doing their best to put me to sleep." Skags took another swallow and finished inhaling his beer. "Still sort of dry," he gargled halfway through his swallowing. "You mind if I get another?" Not even waiting for an answer, he reappeared, with three more beers in hand. "Here, I brought a couple for you." He made a motion of offering her two bottles, but she waved them away as she was expressly forbidden to drink while on pain killers. She was certain he knew this. Shrugging happily, Skags, cradled the beers in his arm like children, opening and sucking a whole bottle clean before beginning. "O.K. - weird shit." He paused, as if thinking. "You heard about the fight the cops got into over at Dominican, right?" Kate nodded. Two cops had been killed. Every cop in the State knew something about it, despite the efforts of both county and city officials to cover it up. "Well, the hospital's been having a few problems keeping their 'goods' on hand. It seems, " Skags bent lower and wheezed conspiratorially, "that they're missing a few bodies. They keep disappearing on them. Talking to a friend of mine" "A friend?" Kate asked, as if she found it hard to believe that Skags really had any. "How reliable is this source?" "Yeah, a friend," Skags insisted. "I've known this guy for years. We do business together. I give him dirty magazines. He gives me some lunch money and some things he finds around the hospital. Now, he doesn't steal anything. These are just - 'extra' - things that they don't need." Drugs, hypos, drugs, alcohol, and more drugs Kate was thinking in her head. No doubt Skags did quite a brisk business with the addicts in town. "This guy - friend - told me that bodies have been disappearing from the morgue left and right. There's been some pretty good cover-ups cause - well you know - people are upset when they don't get to have their grandma at her own funeral and like. Anyway, word is that one of the doctors at the hospital, who the paper said was hurt, was actually killed. He heard from a guy who knows the guy who works at one of the mortuaries that their driver was paid big bucks to take the stiff to this guy up on Ocean View." Kate winced slightly as she edged a few more inches up the pillow behind her. She now looked completely awake, apart from an occasional yawn corresponding to a tired blink. "I'd heard about the Hospital fight myself and I've also heard a rumour about the Doctor. I knew him in passing from when the Quinn girl was in hospital. He seemed to be a nice guy. Fuckin' 20th Century Graverobbers. They don't even let the body get to the undertakers now!" While Kate was talking, Skags took the opportunity to inhale some more beer before resuming. "Turns out he's some prof from U.C.S.C. So, it's like this prof is some body snatcher or something. In fact, he was just in a few days earlier. I guess he paid my friend for - guess what? Blood! He bought several plastic bags full of blood! All hush hush of course." "What's this professor's name?" Kate asked. "Ah, I don't know." "What about your friend?" "Naw, cops make him nervous. He wouldn't want to talk to you and you'd just scare him away from dealin with me." Watching Skags drain another beer gave her a terrible thirst for a brew but she just quickly put her mind onto other things. " It's ok, Skags, I'll be able to find out myself. It shouldn't be too hard to compare a prospectus from UCSC for names with who lives up there. All I'll need are the names and a phone book, hopefully." "So, you've got my attention Skags. What other strange and depressing tales do you have to tell me?" she said grinning back at him through the pain. Skags smiled, truly a frightening given the brief vision of grey and amber teeth she witnessed. "O.K. - Scary Shit. This comes from that time you asked me to watch that shop. The one called 'The Hidden World.' You remember that time?" Kate nodded. "O.K. You gonna like this one. So I'm watchin it and get this! The guy whose body they found on Beach Hill from that Lightning Strike comes walking, sort of drunk like, down the street. The same guy! I swear it!" Kate nodded. Then added, "Wait a minute! You're telling me the same man who was killed by lightning - you saw him walking down the street near Thompson's shop?" Skags shuddered then nodded. "Yea." "How do you know it was the same man?" "Because I saw this guy when I was visiting my friend one time. We were sharing a drink and this guy's body was on one of the tables, all cut up from being looked at inside. And get this! My friend tells me that it wasn't no lightning strike what killed him. He came into the morgue pretty as a picture, except his head was cut off!" "The Hacker!" Kate inhaled. "Maybe the police - the mayor too maybe - tried to cover this murder up. Too many tourists are staying away already." Kate looked at Skags. "But wait! And you say you saw him walking." "Yep! Nearly froze my blood. And it did freeze me body solid. I was so scared, I shit my pants - really!" Kate didn't need the reassureance. Inside her apartment, she could smell Skags quite well. "He walked right past me, with a smell like death. And I could see where his neck had stiches in it, like a Frankenstein monster where his head had been sewn on. And his head looked very brown, like it had been badly tanned and he was peeling - though he looked fine, other than bein dead, when I saw him before." "You're sure he was dead?" Kate felt she had to ask to make sure. "Hey, his guts were in a bucket and his chest was folded back like red blankets. So, if that ain't dead, yea O.K. Maybe I was mistakin!" "O.K. Calm down," Kate told him. "So then what happened?" "I don't know. As soon as my legs could move, I run out of there." "You didn't see what happened?" "Oh, I looked back to make sure it wasn't chasin me. It looked like it was heading for the back of Quinn's shop but I didn't stick around to make sure." Skags looked at the empty bottles beside him. Before he could ask, Kate told him to help himself. "Skags, head round to Quinn's place for me and see if he has another new door or if there is anything to show that there's been a fight. Do it during the day as god knows what might happen around his place at night. Who knows, maybe someone else saw what happened?" Kate rubbed her eyes and shook her head. " What the hell is going on with the guy Thompson? His adopted daughter gets kidnapped by Italians, I check into his background and it's fake, and then his daughter isn't interogated and the investigation seems to have been dropped and now someone's playing Voodoo with Corpses around him! What the fuck is going on?" Shaking her head again Kate came to a decision. " I think Mr Thompson rates a direct phone call very soon." " Ok, give me a second to get ready and then tell me about the sick perversity you were on about before. I could do with something to laugh at!" she said, not meaning it at all. Skags looked at her confused. "O.K. So what do you want me to do? You want me to go around to that guys shop? Or do you want me to tell you another story?" "Hmm, well unless it's pressing, perhaps you'd better go to the shop," Kate agreed. A quick final swig from the bottle signalled he was finished talking and then Kate carried on. " Ok, I need you to be my eyes and ears on the street for a while." His worried expression showed immediately. " It's ok, no need to rat on your friends, just tell me what's really happening. I need to know. I'll lose my sanity stuck in here for the next 3 weeks without some connection to reality. See if you can find out where the young girl Angela Thomson is staying and anything about her father, the big guy you were trailing. Think you can do that?" Kate felt the sleeping drugs take hold again and she fought to stay lucid and awake. " I also want you to find out whatever you can about the bastard that did this to me. I ....." her entire body started to quiver as she thought back to the incident. " I know I shot him point blank in the head and the fucker got back up. It's impossible, nobody can do that. Nobody!" With that she slipped quickly out of the real world into her dreams, where horrible monsters lurked behind every blade of grass. Sunday, June 11th, 1995 10:08 p.m. Ray had returned with the pizza, which Kate promptly devoured. He had also brought several hours worth of videos to help pass the time and distract her from her pain. There was a knock on the door which Ray answered. "I think you have the wrong address," Ray told the person before anyone spoke. "Hey Buddy! I got BUSINESS here!" Skags protested. "Let him in," Kate told Ray. Reluctantly, Ray stepped aside and Skags entered, helping himself to cold pizza and settling in to watch "Home Alone." Kate cleared her throat while Ray glared at Skags with concern, glancing at Kate as if to say, Who is this guy? "Oh yea," Skags snapped his fingers as if remembering something. "I did what you asked. The guys shop is boarded up in back like there was a break in. Also, there's a closed indefinatly sign in the front window. Can't be good for business, if you ask me." Skags couldn't offer much of anything else so Kate, not wanting to involve Ray in her extracuricular activities, told to Skags to go and return later. After sending Skags off with a six-pack and the rest of the cold pizza, Kate was left trying to explain to Ray about her "taste" in associates. She started to say something and then stopped herself. "It doesn't matter, Ray. It would sound crazy and maybe, just maybe, it's better you didn't know. You might be able to sleep nights." Thursday, June 15th, 1995 8:37 p.m. Kate meandered between trying to find something vaguely interesting on T.V. or involving herself with another one of the selection of videos that Ray and then Sam had dropped off for her. Ray, having exhausted his current choices had fallen into the foreign section of the video store, while Sam's taste, though he was dear to her, could hardly evoke her interest. After all, how many football follies and Chuck Bronson movies could she really find all that interesting. However, Kate was spared making a choice when there was a knock at the door. Having several days of rehab and rest had helped her to learn to get about, though she doubted she could do much without the pain killers. Thinking it was Skags, she wheeled herself to the door. Ray had had to back to work at the radio station by Corcoran Lagoon so Kate was alone. "Hello" It wasn't Skags. A young man, blond with a tanned face and weathered straw hair indicative of surfers, smiled back at her. "Mizz Kate Morrison?" Kate nodded, feeling a little awkward and somewhat vulnerable in her wheelchair with only the screen separating her from the stranger. Still, he seemed harmless enough. "Sorry to trouble you this evening. My name is Roland Jones. I work for Davenport Biotechnologies. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?" Kate nodded. After all, she had nothing better to do. After waiting vainly for an invitation inside, Jones continued. "Well, again, as I said, I'm sorry to be bothering you. We happened to hear about your injury from a contact in the department. Anyway, my colleagues and I thought we might be able to help you. We have a treatment program that would drastically speed up your recovery rate and could put you back on duty within two weeks. Interested?" Kate's eyes widened briefly at the opportunity suddenly placed in front of her, before they narrowed again. " Yeah, I'm very interested, Mr Jones. That almost sounds too good to be true. Could you come back tomorrow during the day. I'd like my doctor to be present so that he can advise me on your proposal, besides it's getting late. If you come back tomorrow, say about three in the afternoon, I'll be happy to talk to you then." "Certainly," Jones smiled, producing a business card. "Please call me Rolly." Kate smiled and closed the door. Thursday, June 15th, 1995 8:52 p.m. Whilst she waited for Skags to turn up to complete his gruesome news bulletin Kate pushed the wheelchair back into the bedroom and picked up her phone. She dialed the Sentinel's number and the extension she wanted. It rang interminably before it was answered. " Hello, Jane Bishop, can I help you?" The small giggle that Kate let out probably surprised her friend the reporter. " I certainly hope you can, Janie. It's Kate. I thought I might find you still there. I need you to check on a few things for me. Plus, I've got some leads that you might find interesting and you can quiz me on anything you want and I'll try to answer what I can. Deal?" " Ok, I'm intrigued. Give me the details, Kate. I'll do some checking. What is it? " came the voice from the other end. Kate grimaced as a pain shot through her back " Right, I know you heard about the pitched battle down at the Dominican. Well, on top of the officers who died, one of the doctors was killed as well. Anyway, I don't know what's behind that but I've heard from a reliable source that the doctor's body was delivered out of the morgue up to an address up on Ocean View owned by a Professor from U.C.S.C. Apparently, some other bodies have been disappearing recently from the Morgue. I planned to do a bit of checking into it myself but something else has come up which makes it difficult. Anyway, I'm not sure what is going on but whatever it is I figured it'd be something you'd like to hear about. What I am sure about is that you'd better be very careful on this one, Janie. There's something about it I don't like but then again I don't like anything that's happening around here these days." "Ok, Kate. That'd be a hell of a story if it pans out. What do you want me to do for you?" "I'd like you to find out who owns Bryce House just now and if their in residence and anything else you can find out about them? They seem to be connected to a guy called Quinn Thompson who runs " The Hidden World" bookshop down on Cedar Street. You might want to check into his credentials and that of his adopted daughter. Someone tried to kidnap her recently and there's something weird happening with them." Kate thought for a second and then said " Oh yeah, also could you have a look at your files and phone me tonight on what you have on a company called Davenport Biotechnologies? I'll take any information you have on them soon as you can get it to me, good or bad. I just want to convince myself I'm not getting paranoid in my old age. Whatever, be careful. There are too many weird things happening, these days. It's like all of my nightmares are real and stalking the city." Kate's voice had taken on very serious tone to it. Knowing Jane would be think 'Yeah, right!' at the other end Kate continued. " I mean it, Janie. Big time. Watch yourself. I don't want to lose my oldest friend." The silence from both ends of the phone was only cut by the slight static of the phone line until Kate said " Anyway, enough of that, how's your social calendar looking? Have you managed to find yourself a boyfriend yet? The last one I can remember was Mark Lehman in school. Some of us" she said in a bad imitation of a high class accent" have managed to find someone worth chatting about." The accent changed back to her usual slightly rough voice and her delight was evident. " Janie, I think Ray's the real thing. You have to meet him. Call round when you can, I'll be in, and I'll answer anything you want." (Kate wants to phone Bill Johnson at the Morgue, meet Janie with Ray for a coffee, see Skags for the perverse stuff and Murder news (and any new stuff), and also have the meeting with her Doctor/Physio-therapist and Mr Jones. Assuming everything is ok, she'd be very interested in the Rehabilitation.) Friday, June 16th, 1995 10:59 a.m. "Thanks for seeing me at such a late notice." Kate winced as Doctor Motoda continued to probe her arm. "Well, you're healing as well as can be expected. How are your physical therapies going?" "Painful - and slow," Kate admitted, showing her disappointment. "Well, it's not an overnight affair, despite what this Jones person might have promised you. Still," the Doctor held up the business card Kate had shown her, "I'd have to say I'm curious to see what this Jones is all about. There's probably a ice-cube's chance in hell that what he's saying is true; if it was, we'd be talking Nobel prize." Kate nodded, still surprising herself on her disappointment. She'd allowed herself to hope after all. Motoda smiled. "I'll see you at three then." "Thanks, Doc. I do appreciate it." The Doctor smiled and called in the nurse to wheel Kate back out to Sam's van. Friday, June 16th, 1995 2:33 a.m. "Kate, this is Doctor Motoda calling." Kate picked up the phone, turning off the answering machine. "Hello Doctor, this is Kate." "Kate, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to miss our meeting. It was just too short a notice. I called this Jones person. He's agreed to meet with me this weekend and then I'll look over what he has to offer and get back to you. Is that alright with you?" Kate thought about it. She would have preferred to have been present at the discussion, but given the Doctor's busy schedule and her other fires in the iron, she agreed that it would be alright. Friday, June 16th, 1995 5:55 p.m. "Hi Kate. Janie here. Are you home?" Once again, Kate picked up the phone. "Yeah, I'm here. Just playing phone tag with everyone. What's up?" "Well girl, you sure got my weekend off to a late start." "Sorry," Kate apologized. "Hey, I'm just kidding. Reporters keep worse hours than cops, so don't feel bad. Anyway, I checked on that stuff you wanted." Kate perked up. "There's only one U.C.S.C. professor who lives on Ocean View - 1313. His name is George Lucien Poincairé, PhD and he's a Full Professor of French at Stevenson College. He graduate from the Université de Lyon, in France and received his doctorate at the Sorbonne, in Paris. He also teaches with the History Department; his specialty there is ancient Palestine. He's from Brittany, in France and speaks Breton in addition to French, English, Hebrew, Aramaic, Ancient Hebrew, Latin, and Ancient Greek. He's also supposed to know a bit of modern Arabic, Ancient Persian, and Sanskrit. Occasionally, he teaches a course or two up at Berkeley, Stanford, and Monterey Institute of Language, where he's listed as an affiliate." "Whew!" Kate breathed. "Yeah, that's what I said," Janie's voice agreed. "I don't see what this guy would be interested in dead bodies for. Are you sure your source is correct?" "Hmm, I'm not sure but I'll try to check it out," Kate agreed. "O.K. Next - Quinn Thompson. Business License checked out. Place of Birth - New Orleans, blah, blah blah - no previous priors, never been married, his daughter was adopted - and that was about as far as I got. I got the idea that Quinn was maybe involved with drugs in some way down in L.A., but couldn't get any firm word. He's rich and currently his shop is closed - for renovations. But the planning department doesn't have any renovation permits on file - so that's bogus. Kind of a shadowy character, but nothing that stands out - not without flying down to L.A. or out to New Orleans." "Thanks anyway," Kate replied. "And Davenport Biotechnologies?" "That was a hard one. You've heard about it in the news. They're a gene-splicing outfit. They grow antibodies in goats and then sell them on the market. Their stock did quite well last year, despite protests from environmentalists and animal rights groups. D.B. is a division of Danelaw Pharmaceuticals, but most of the stock is held - and this took me a lot of searching to dig out - our local rich kid, Thomas Crown." "Crown?" "Yeah, you know, Crown. Of the Crown family - just did that deal with Lima Concrete; the family who has a U.C.S.C. college named after them; who made their money in cement, limestone and whaling during the last century; local slum lord; who owns that mansion brooding over your dinky apartment if you care to look out your window - that Crown?" "Alright, yeah I know who you mean. He's just seems to have his fingers in so many pies these days," Kate said. "Yep, and all of them sticky," Janie added. "Well, food for thought. Thanks, Janie. I owe you." "And I'll collect it. Still girl, you've got to get better. It's going to be exhausting doing all your leg work for you. I'll let you know if I come across anything further." "You're a gem," Kate told her. "This is true." Kate laughed and hung up the phone. Saturday, June 17th, 1995 10:43 p.m. Ray got up an answered the door. He was on his way out since it was his night to work at the radio station. It was Sam. "Hey partner!" Sam said, nodding to Kate as Ray stepped out. "Hi Sam," Kate smiled, glad to see him. "How's Rita?" "You tell me. She seems to be over here more than at home." Kate laughed. "She's been a gem. I can't tell you how much help she's been, cleaning and cooking." "Agh! Keep her! I'm thinking of trading her in on a new wife." Kate blustered. "SAM! If Rita could hear you now!" "Then I'd be here sleeping on a cot. Naw, after being married for fifteen years, a man's got a right to poke fun at the old lady now and then." Sam sat down. "So, I looked up this Skags fella. He's crawled deeper than nightcrawler. You didn't happen to give him money, did you?" Kate nodded. "Yeah - 50 bucks. He's been doing so much leg work, I figured he earned it." Sam shook his head in disapproval. "Kid, what've I been tellin you. Never pay your stoolies more than the lowest they'll take. You shouldn't have given him more than 20 - tops! From what you've told me of him, he won't surface until he needs more. And that kind of guy with 50 bucks, you'll be lucky if you see him in two weeks." "Thanks," Kate said. "I'll keep it in mind next time." "You do that," Sam agreed. He looked around again. "So, you need anything?" Kate held up a slice of pizza and pointed at the pile of video tapes. "Pizza and movies. What else does a girl need on a Saturday night?" Sam didn't buy her false cheerfulness. "Hey, pluck up kid. You keep on that therapy. You'll be back to work in no time - missing these days of easy living." "Yeah, right!" Kate smiled, giving Sam a hug as he left. "Take care," he told her. "And you." After Sam left, Kate went back to wondering what it had been like when she once had a life. Sunday, June 18th, 1995 1:49 p.m. "Hello. This is Doctor Motoda, for Katherine Morrison." Kate picked up the phone. "Hi Doc. What's up?" "Kate, I've got some good news for you. I met with Rolly Jones and he gave me a tour of the facility and a demonstration of treatment they want to use on you. I have to say, I was really impressed. They've got some new sort of drug that speeds up nerve and ligament damage and even allows for healing where there wouldn't have been a chance before. I looked at their test records and I can't be more enthusiastic about this new procedure." "Wow," Kate said, surprised at the Doctor's turnaround. "Anyway, Kate, Rolly has put together a dosage and I can administer it to you at my office tomorrow - if you still want to try it. If you'd like, how about eleven tomorrow morning." "Well," Kate felt a bit hesitant. "Alright, if you say so. I'll get a friend to drive me over." "Kate, if this drug works on you as well as it has on the test subjects I've seen, you'll be back to work in two weeks, or less." "That's great," Kate agreed, somehow feeling it was too good to be true. Nevertheless, she wanted to be able to trust in it." "I'll see you tomorrow then." "Alright. I'mvery interested." "Good. Bye then." "Bye." Kate hung up the phone. Sunday, June 18th, 1995 5:44 p.m. "Hi Katie. This is Bill. How ya doin?" Kate snatched the phone. "Bill, you're a hard man to get a hold of." "Sorry, but I took the missus on a little get away," Bill Johnson explained. "What's up?" "If you don't mind, I'd rather talk it over in person. I've got be at the Doctor's around eleven. Would sometime early afternoon be alright." "I'll be here," Bill told her. "All kinds of work backed up, waiting for me. It'll take me days to catch up." Just as an afterthought, Kate mentioned to Bill the drug that was to be used on her. Bill seemed to have the same skepticism as had Doctor Motoda prior to her visit. But he admitted that his expertise was more toward the dead than the living. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then." Kate hung up the phone and began making plans for the coming week. Sunday, June 18th, 1995 6:04 p.m. It had been a few hours since Ray had left for the station, leaving Kate on her own and each minute had seemed to last forever. The pain in her back had slowly grown throughout the afternoon which had increased her discomfort. The TV hadnt been helping either. McGuyver had just gained pole position on the grid and unsurprisingly, his competition was now trying to sabotage his car in a botched night raid. Thankfully for Kates sanity, her doorbell rang and she wheeled herself through to the screen door. Opening it, Kate stared in surprise at the two figures silhouetted in the doorway. "Well Katherine," came the familiar voice. "Are you going to let us in or do we spend the rest of the night out here on the doorstep?" A smile broaden across Kates face as she unlocked the door. Hi Mum, Dad, its really great to see you. How was the trip down from San Diego?" As she asked, her mother swept into the room and started fussing around her as she always did. "A lot clearer than we expected, thank god!" her Dad answered. The glare at the oath almost brought back all of Kates childhood to her. "How's the back doing?" "It's starting to get better," she lied. "I'm going for that extra therapy I told you about tomorrow, I might be back up on my feet in a few weeks. Right, Ill put on the coffee and you can tell us all about it." Sunday, June 18th, 1995 7:19 p.m. Whilst Kates mother chopped up the carrots in the kitchen, her Dad moved closer and dropped his voice. "Okay Katie, Sam phoned me and told me what really happened. Why didnt you tell me when we phoned you? I'll admit it sounds strange but if it really happened then don't let anyone else tell you different." Cradling her head in her hands, she took a deep breath. "To be honest, I'm not sure anymore. I know I hit him at least twice because he went down, but he kept getting up. I don't think I'd be alive now if the back-up hadn't arrived when it did. At the time, I was sure Id hit him dead centre in the forehead with the second pair of shots. Right now, I'm beginning to wonder." "Look Katie, you know I was in the San Diego P.D. for 25 years. I've seen weird things happen, things I can't explain. I was involved in chasing down a thief about 15 years ago. We cornered him in a blind alley. No possible way out, 30 foot sheer stone walls on either side without any ladders; and we were right behind him; yet he vanished into thin air. There was no place he could have gone, no place he could have hidden. None of us could explain it. The only thing I can possibly tell you is to believe in your own eyes. Don't let anyone convince you what you saw didnt happen." "What are you two talking about through there? James, I expect you to give me a hand with the potatoes," came the call from the kitchen. "Ok, Margaret, Ill be right through," and then in a lower voice, "Katie, believe in yourself. If that's what you saw then that's what happened." He then walked through leaving Kate thinking hard. Monday, June 19th, 1995 10:08 a.m. Katherine was on the toilette when she heard the phone ring. It was Janie's voice, but she couldn't make out what was being said. Janie ended up leaving a message as Kate was in no position to fly out on wheelchair and try and catch her. When she finally did get out, Kate pressed the play button. "Hi Kate! Janie here. That last item on your - very long - to do list about the Bryce House? Turns out the Catholic Church turned the property back over to the City of Capitola, which holds it in a public trust supervised by some unnamed individuals. The trust, which carries its own finance, specifies very strict stipulations about the place and it's even protected as an historic site, which is ludicrous since it's not that old. I'm sure the city would just like to bulldoze it and turn it into a park but they can't as their hands are tied. It's funny you should have brought it up. Some Italian countess has just put in a serious bid to get a long term lease on the property and my sources think the city's going to jump at it, since she's offering a couple mil for the place. It's got to go through the usual rigmarole, and the papers had just been filed when I got there. I'm sure the mayor and Capitola council would do anything to get that dump off their hands. O.K. Gotta go and do some of my own work for a change. Good luck with the doc. I'm looking forward to some good news on you, girl." Monday, June 19th, 1005 11:21 a.m. "Nervous?" Doctor Motoda asked Kate. Kate nodded. They'd been waiting for the better part of half an hour in one of the research scientists offices. Kate hadn't been shown any of the laboratory, but had been told that the procedure would just involve a simple injection. "It still seems too good to be true," Kate commented to the Doctor. "I know it does," Motoda agreed. "But then, sometimes, and certainly not often, medical science can bring about miracles." "So does the company want me to endorse their product if this works?" Kate asked. "I mean, what do they get out of it?" In truth, she was worried that she'd just volunteered herself as a human guinea pig. She wondered why the company hadn't asked her to sign any sort of waiver for liability. Someone she'd been introduced to as Doctor Benwick came in, accompanied by Rolly Jones. "Here you go," Benwick said, smiling to Kate while she handed the syringe to Motoda. "Might as well let your own doctor administer the injection." Kate took a good look at the liquid inside the vial. (Perception - 3 successes) It looked familiar, though a little bit dark. Certainly she'd seen enough of it in her line of work. "That looks like blood," she commented to the others. Motoda held it up to the light. "Yes is does," she agreed. Rolly interjected to Benwick, "We'll have to make a note to change that in case future patients become squeamish about seeing what they think is blood." Motoda applied some alcohol to Kate's arm and readied her for the injection. "Look, just hold it for a second. Whats in this thing? Nobodys even told me that yet." Doctor Benwick then launched into a huge string of what sounded like chemical compounds but could have been anything as far as she knew. Still, after looking toward Doctor Motoda, she didnt seem to have any problems with it so Kate acquiesced, putting her uneasiness to one side. "Okay, I deserved that. Go on Doc, lets get this over with before something else comes up." Monday, June 19th, 1995 2: 24 p.m. "Hey Bill, how was your holiday?" she said trundling with some effort into Bills small office in her wheelchair. The small closet that Bill called his office was filled with a small desk and a pair of old metal filing cabinets. Everything in the room was ordered, a pile of files sitting in his out tray. "Not bad. We headed down to Pismo Beach for a little time off from everything. It puts things back into perspective for me. So what can I do for you that couldnt be talked about over the phone? If your looking for someone to race against, I warn you, I think I might win now!" Trying to be cheerful, Kate half laughed. "I might well take you up on that." Leaving a moment of silence she composed herself and looked back at Bill. "Bill, Ive heard a few things recently that I thought I'd better talk to you about. Did you ever receive a body of a Doctor Lawrence from the Dominican Hospital? He was apparently killed in an incident at the hospital. However, I've heard that his body didn't get as far as the Mortuary, and he's not the first one. I need you to check whether he's been processed or not?" Bill looked serious and pushed himself up, walking to the cabinet with the help of his stick. I'll need to check the files to find out, but I don't remember the name. I take it there is something else you want." He opened middle cabinet and flicked through the files. "Well, I just wanted to know if there had been any more weird deaths appearing around here recently. A number of things have been cropping up around here recently that have me worried and confused. It's as if I've lived up to now with blinkers on and someones let me peek out into the wild weird real world. I don't know if that makes any sense to you Bill but its starting to scare the shit out of me." Wednesday, June 21st, 1995 11:42 a.m. The phone clicked away as Kate tapped in the number from the card in her hand. She leaned back on the bed carefully, but there was only a twitch or two of real pain. It was amazing the difference that the injection had made to her back. In just the few days since she had been given the injection she could already feel a marked difference. Now she had begun to count the days until the next injection. The call connected quickly and it rang once before being picked up. " Murphy" said the voice. "Hello, Agent Murphy. This is Kate Morrison from the Santa Cruz PD. We met up at the Cowell murder site. I've got something that I think might be more your area than mine. We had a kidnapping in the city of an Angela Thompson by a man. There were a few weird things about what happened at the scene, including the suspect escaping custody and using Ms Thompson as a shield. Anyway, we pursued him down an alley and found him dead, his back snapped backwards like a twig. No sign of whoever did it, and the victim lying unconcious. She appeared to have lost some blood to a bite on her neck. That particular method seems to have been going around recently. Anyway, in the course of things, I met her adopted father, a Mr Quinn Thompson, who having questioned gave me cause to check further into his background. Anyway, I discovered that the victim's original name had been Claudia Di Biasi, and Quinn Thompson had been investigated with regard to her natural father's death in Los Angeles, a Gerald Di Biasi, which turned out to be an alias. Anyway, this caught my attention because the kidnapper had Italian clothes and a definite accent that I now believe to have been because he was Italian. Anyway, recently whilst I was continuing my checking Mr Thompson went to see someone at Bryce House, an old place that's been unowned for about the last 50 years. It turns out that it's going to be leased out to an Italian Countess. Now, I don't know about you, but I see a slight Italian connection in all this. Anyway, I figured that you might get farther with your connections than I could in my condition at the moment." Murphy had listened carefully and then replied "I'm kind of busy right now but I'll see what I can do for you. I heard about your accident. How are you doing?" "Accident?!! That's probably the easiest way to describe it. I still don't understand how someone can get up and attack me after I've put 3 bullets into his body and one in his head. I'm still getting nightmares about it. I thought I'd be off work for a couple of months but a local pharmaceutical company, Davenport Biotechnologies, have a new drug that apparently can get me back to work within a few weeks. Everyone I talk to seems to think it's a bit surprising, including my Doctor, but she had a look and said she was impressed with the place." A querying tone in her voice, Murphy said "Really? I've never heard of such a drug. Is there any way you could get me a sample do you think?" "Errrr, I suppose I could try to get some if you want, but I believe it's experimental and they seem to want to keep it to themselves. Just a thought, but wouldn't it be in my bloodstream if they inject me with it? If you're that interested I can easily give you a blood sample for you to have checked. How's the 'Wildcat' hunt and your other stuff going?" "Not so good." Murphy sighed. "My partner was recalled back to San Francisco. Lucky slob. I ended up out here in the first place because of his goof. And now he gets to go back while I'm out here wrestling with uncooperative local officials. It looks like I'm going to be permenantly assigned here, though I'll be based in either Monterey or San Jose; probably Monterey." "Yeah, you'll find that anything that's bad for tourism is bad for the city, even if it means a few of them ending up on a slab in the mortuary. Good luck. You'll need it. Anyway, I'd better not take up any more of your time. Thanks for the help." "Take care of yourself," Murphy said, hanging up. "I intend to!" said Kate to no-one in particular. Thursday, June 22nd, 1995 7:13 p.m. Kate slowly walked across with the two plates and popped them down on the dinner table, ignoring Ray's offer's of help. She'd been feeling much better in the morning and had felt good enough to spend some time out of her wheelchair cooking for Ray, even though he kept pestering her to take a rest. As the plates hit the table, the phone rang and Ray picked it up quickly before Kate had a chance. He quickly passed it over. "It's your other boyfriend. The one with the uniform." "Hi ya, Sam. What's happening with my favourite old coot?" "Hey kid, I just wanted to let you know about the new kid on the block. Her name is Suzanna Miller. She's a clerk, but she's bucking for a field spot. The Chief has been sniffing by my way but I told him no dice - that I'm holding out for my one and only. So, you'd better get well soon, otherwise it'll be your fat butt sitting out on dispatch." Kate's face showed how much she enjoyed that idea. "Oh god, spare me that hell. Don't worry Sam, this new treatment is making a big difference. The way things are going, I may be back at work in a few weeks. It's amazing. Who'd have thought one of Thomas Crown's companies would produce something to help someone." "O.K. I'll hold out. The Rookie will have to get some other old fart to teach her the ropes. I'm holding you to that getting better now." Chuckling, she shook her head."Sam, If I don't get better, you have my permission to shoot me. Gotta go, talk to you later." Tuesday, June 27th, 1995 1:03 p.m. Dr Benwick ushered her into the small examination room in the Davenport Biotechnolgy buildings. The company had arranged for one of their vans to pick her up from her apartment and she had accepted as she didn't want to burden Sam any more than she already had done. "Ah, good day Miss Morrison. How is the back?" Benwick said expectantly. "It's unbelievable. I've been managing to walk about relatively freely for short periods and it's been getting better every day. It's amazing. The pain's a lot less than it was and I'm feeling better almost every day." Benwick smiled and nodded sagely. "Well, you should be getting more mobility back after this injection. In a day or two, I expect you to be able to walk around relatively freely, however, we'll require the third injection to properly complete your rehabilitation without any regression. I'll need to do some checks on how you are progressing, but I'll give you the next injection just now. I'll be back in a minute." With that, he headed across the room and started to ready himself for the injection. Tuesday, June 27th, 1995 1:08 p.m. The Davenport laboratory looked as it had done previously. Dr Benwick walked across the tiled floor and drew the syringe. "Roll up your sleeve, Miss Morrison" he said whilst looking for air bubbles inside the syringe as he drew the liquid from a small glass bottle. Kate obliged and he quickly swabbed her arm and injected her. Putting the syringe down on the tray, Benwick turned to pick up his stethoscope. At this, Kate began sneezing, one loud sneeze after another. Benwick looked at her and Kate managed a quick comment in between the sneezes. (Manipulation + Subterfuge +1 Willpower= 2 successes). "Get me a tissue would you, there's one in my bag." Unaware of her deception, the doctor turned to get the tissue and Kate quickly palmed the bottle and sneezed into the offered tissue before puting it back into her bag along with the bottle of medicine. The doctor turned back to the table and started looking for the bottle. Before he had a chance, Kate tapped him on the shoulder. "I haven't had a chance to come up here in the past, but I've been told there's an old ruined wharf around here somewhere. Do you know anything about it or the town itself?" Benwick nodded after Kate finished her question. "Oh yes, I've come to know quite a bit about the old town. The old whaling wharf hasn't been used in over a century. Ships used to ambush the California Greys on their migrations to and from Baja. They were almost wiped out." Kate moved towards the door, followed by the doctor. "Well, you learn something new every day. Thank again Doctor. Bye" she said walking out the door, her right hand firmly around the tissue covered bottle. Wednesday, June 28th, 1995 1:17 p.m. Kate had been walking around the house all morning, with no sign of any problems. The lack of pain was a great relief to her and she hoped, a chance to get back to work. She'd always known she'd enjoyed her work, but the time off had been like a hell on earth of sheer boredom. The sooner she had an independent check up, the sooner she could get back on patrol. Calling a cab, Kate headed across to the Dominican to get just that. After waiting a few hours in Urgent Care, she was shown into one of the hospital rooms and had her tests and x-rays carried out. The X-rays came back quickly, confirming to her what she had thought, no injuries. Even though she had half expected it, Kate couldn't help but grin and shake her head in amazement. Wednesday, June 28th, 1995 4:16 p.m. Sam wasn't his usual perky self. Kitty Calderon had been pressuring Sam into showing the new kid on the block the ropes. "I'm going to have to do it. You'd better get off your ass quick, Kate. I'm too old to be training rookies. Especially too old to be training rookies whose whole idea of police work has been flying a computer keyboard." Kate couldn't help but laugh. " Oh, I don't know. Your quite cute when your trying to hide your frustration. Don't worry, I plan to be back ruining your life in the next few days. You seen Skags around, Sam?" "No sight of 'im. Didn't I learn you better than to pay your snitches so much? Next time, remember what the ole fart tells ya," Sam chided her. "Fair enough Sam, I'll take your word for it next time, Sam. Good luck with the kid. Your going to need it. Remember to take your waking stick with you, you ole fart!" she chuckled. "See ya back on duty soon." Popping the phone down and dialing the next number, Kate found herself wondering. 'Already looking to replace me, Kitty. No chance.' A voice interupted her thoughts. "Murphy" "Hi, it's Kate Morrison. I've got that sample that you asked me to pick up." "I'll drop by later and pick it up," Murphy told her "Ok, no problems. Whenever. I'll be around the rest of the day. Any information or leads on the stuff I gave you on Quinn Thompson" "Nothing's come back," Murphy told her. "But I'm working on it." "Fair enough. See you later!" Thursday, June 29th, 1995 9:56 a.m. Sam had been round earlier dropping off a Fax from Interpol. His bad mood was almost palpable. He had been due to train the rookie the night after next and he wasn't happy. Knowing Sam as she did, Kate hoped the kid didn't screw up too much. Sam didn't enjoy being pushed into things and Kitty had basically kicked him into it. It wasn't going to be fun for either of them. The Fax was about Gerald Di Biasi, the Italian guy that Quinn had had a run in with up in L.A.. Di Biasi had been arrested by Florentine Police in Italy on bodysnatching charges back in 1977. Kate could almost see him, shovel in hand digging up corpses one by one. 'Europe must be a weird place', she thought. The case had never come to trial and Di Biasi was believed to have left Italy for England some time after. His whereabouts were unknown until he resurfaced - dead - in L.A Thursday, June 29th, 1995 2:31 p.m. It had felt good to get out on her bike again. She'd spent most of the morning riding around the area, even as far out as the mountains. She'd stopped of at a small cafe for lunch and then headed along to the Dominican to collect the results of her blood tests. Sitting in Perg's, she sat and read it over once again to be sure. Apparently, there was some unknown substance in her blood, which was obviously Davenport Tech's wonder drug. Apart from that, the overall diagnosis was normal, absolutely no evidence of any damage to her body. Her back was healed. Thursday, June 29th, 1995 4:55 p.m. Bill Johnson's small office, although filled with filing cabinets, was a happy change from the rest of the Morgue. It was clean and neat, but not antiseptic like the corridors or labs. Kate sat on one of the seats opposite Bill as he finished signing a pair of forms. As he finished the last form with the usual flourish to his signature, he said "Well Katie, I can't tell you how good it is to see you up and about. So, you're going to go back on duty soon, I hope." Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Kate nodded. "Damn right I am. I can't tell you how bored I've been these last few weeks. I want to get right back as quick as I can. Anyway, I'd better start right now. You got any John Doe's with this description" she said handing over the physical description she had of Richard, Angela Quinn's boyfriend. "It'd either be from just before that Italian guy came in or since." Bill was already shaking his head. "Nope, I'd have remembered. There certainly hasn't been anyone like that in here in the last few weeks. Sorry Kate, or maybe that's a good thing!" Shrugging, Kate got up. "Who knows Bill. Let's just say it's lucky for him. Thanks anyway! See you later, Bill" Thursday, June 29th, 1995 7:09 p.m. Parking her bike across the road from Unity Temple on the corner of Broadway & Seabright, Kate turned and shook her head. She'd lived within 10 minutes drive from the place and had hardly noticed it before. The entire building seemed to have a serene look, with a combination of the original church accompanied by another building in the back by the parking and a garden in the corner portion of the grounds facing the street. Throughout the entire place there wasn't a wall to obscure vision of the guard dogs. 'Probably some sort of cross between German Shephard's and wolves' Kate thought. Their glare's followed Kate as she walked up to the temple, watching her keenly, almost studying her every move. (Perception + Empathy = 3 successes). Their eyes seemed to hold an intelligence, even beyond what she'd seen in some drugs dogs. Again, the temple had done something to spook her. Inside the incense filled temple, faint mantras echoed through the building while the large sermon room was quickly filling for a sermon. Kate settled down and waited until the sermon had started before going to find one of the temple's acolytes. The sermon was about faith in adversity and although well delivered was as boring as every other sermon that Kate had ever heard. Walking through to the back of the temple, Kate caught one of the acolytes attention. "Excuse me, could you tell me where Reverend Joy and Angela Thompson can be found". "I am afraid that the Reverend is very ill and cannot receive visitors. As for an Angela Thompson, I've never heard of anyone by that name being here." Unwilling to take that as an answer, Kate flashed her badge at the young acolyte and her memory suddenly grew much better. "Ah, yes, I remember Angela Thompson. She left here a few days ago, on June 7th. I do not know where she went. I'm afraid I do not know any more." Kate sighed "Thank you for that at least". It was obvious that this young cleric wasn't going to be of any more help so Kate headed back out annoyed at the lack of help. Friday, June 30th, 1995 1:32 p.m. She'd been combing the streets since early morning and there was no sign of Skags. Drawing into the kerb, Kate jumped off her bike and walked up to her flat fuming. 'Why is it I can only find him when he wants me to find him. I'll bet he's holed up somewhere with a crate of beers and a few of his pals laughing his head off.' The door rocked on it's hinges as it was slammed shut drowning out the phone. "Hi, Kate speaking." The voice on the other end came through loud and very clear and was recognised immediately. "Hi Officer Morrison, it's Agent Pam Murphy, F.B.I. I've got the results of that serum you gave me. They faxed over from the Bureau labs in Washington. I was wondering if you can meet me somewhere." Kate spent a moment puzzling over the request before asking "Yeah, sure. Is there a problem with the results?" "I'm sorry. I'd rather discuss this in person. Is there a good time to meet you?" Becoming slightly more worried, Kate said "Well, I'm not back at work yet, so how about tommorow at Noon on the Wharf. The radio said it'd be a nice day." Talking assuredly, Murphy affirmed, "Right, I'll meet you there at noon," before ringing off. Within seconds, the phone rang again and Kate picked it up quickly. "Kate Morrison." A clipped female voice issued from the receiver. "Miss Morrison, this is Dr Benwick's office at Davenport Technologies. The Doctor would like to see you as soon as possible. We have you pencilled in for Monday morning at 9 a.m. Is that ok." Again a bit bemused by the rush, Kate paused before accepting. "Yeah, I reckon that'll be ok." Saturday, July 1st, 1995 12:00 noon. The Wharf was as busy as usual on a Saturday. People walked up and down the Wharf, window shopping and just lazing away the day. Looking through the crowd, Kate spotted Murphy on the deck behind Marini's. Walking around a group of kids exiting the candy shop, she headed towards where Murphy stood gazing down at the blue-green water and watching the young surfers riding the waves down at Cowell's Beach. Walking up, Kate was about to tap her on the shoulder when she turned round as if she knew she was there. "Hi, I see all of your attention wasn't down there." Kate said grinning and offered her hand. (Perception + Alertness = 3 successes) Murphy's face tried to smile, but it lacked any spark of genuine pleasure. Underlying the facade, was a serious, even concerned face. Shaking Kate's hand, the agent quickly got to the point. "Let's cut to the chase. That vial you gave me contained blood. And I'm not certain it was human." Kate almost collapsed into her seat with surprise. In a much lower voice, Kate said " What do you mean? Are they pumping me full animal blood, or something? I thought it looked like blood, but they said it wasn't. Why would they do that? My back's healed itself in a few weeks with this treatment compared to months by any conventional method. If it's just blood, then how did that happen?" Kate looked at Murphy with a perplexed look on her face. During all of this, Murphy continued to look at Kate with an almost detached air, as if analyzing Kate's reactions. "I don't know why they would inject you with blood - if that is what they did. I only have your word that you procured the correct vial." Kate's face darkened. "I know that is the right vial. I don't make mistakes like that. If you've read my record you'd know that!" Other than for a cryptic look, Murphy ignored her. "I can tell you that the blood portrayed rather interesting properties. In fact, it was dead - but it reanimated and attacked other living tissue, breaking it down into base proteins. It was almost as if the blood were acting as some sort of enzyme. I would have thought that had they injected you with it - that it would have attacked your own tissue rather than reconstructed it. Also, the blood tissue in the vial reacted very strongly with certain spectrums of light. Basically it carbonized - entirely." "What the hell do you mean?" she said looking worried. "I thought it looked like blood but they said it wasn't, and my doctor, Dr Motoda, had a look around the place. She said that she was impressed and that I should go ahead with the treatment. What the hell were they trying to do to me?" "You'd have to tell me," Murphy said. "At least you're not H.I.V. positive. I can tell you that." Murphy checked her watch. "It's time for me to be going. If you happen to remember anything else or find anything out, let me know. Good luck."
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Kate Morrison, Chapter 2