::  Les dames de la Vieux Carré  ::

Chapter Three

AJ Chegwidden threw his cover and uniform jacket on the delicate looking chair by the dresser. He opened the French doors leading out to the small balcony where he was assaulted with the intense sweetness of magnolias in first bloom. He turned on the light in the small entryway for a moment to see where to put his suitcase, then plunged the room back into darkness. He had been unable to rest on the plane and instead insisted that AD Skinner go over everything the FBI had. It hadn’t been much, and the frustration and tension were beginning to gnaw at his gut. As soon as they landed, he wanted to go directly to the hospital. But, he had called and the night nurse advised him that Mrs. Roberts had just drifted off in the bed next to her husband, who in turn, had finally fallen into a light restless sleep.

On the drive in from the airport, he reached Colonel MacKenzie and she told him that Mike Roberts had been confined to base until such time as he, Admiral Chegwidden, advised Roberts’ commanding officer that it was acceptable for the young yeoman to come to his brother’s bedside. He heard the strain in Mac’s voice. She wanted to come down so bad and look for her missing partner, but AJ had been adamant. "Colonel, I will find him. And when I do I will kick his ass all the way from Louisiana to D.C. and back. He is going to wish he was back in Cuba by the time I get done with him." He remembered her sigh over the phone and once again shook his head over the strange not-quite triangle between her, Mic Brumby, and Rabb.

He deeply inhaled the night air and checked his watch. The illuminated dial read 2330 hours. He looked over at the bed beckoning him, but he was too wired to sleep. He stripped down to his skivvies and used the dim glow from the courtyard to fish out civilian clothes from his suitcase.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans, a soft cotton golf shirt and loafers, he left the hotel and set a casual pace up St. Anne. He had no desire to drink tonight, so he steered away from the noise of Bourbon Street and instead allowed his gaze to take in the antics of the slightly inebriated revelers around him. He had just started to turn a corner when a tall dark haired woman stormed around and ran right into him. He reached out to steady her, but she slapped his hand away.

Surprised AJ snapped. "Excuse me!" The tone had put SeALs in their place and would have had many of his lawyers near tears.

Cass O’Malley glared at the man who had dared to get in her way. She started to say something when she realized who he was, even though he shouldn’t be here for at least two days. Her utter surprise caused her to bark, "What the hell are you doing down here so soon?" Instantly realizing her mistake she put her hand to her mouth.

AJ’s astonishment grew. First he was nearly bowled over by this force of nature, then when he tried to keep her from falling on her six, she had slapped him, THEN, she…He stared at the woman in front of him and searched his memory and groaned. "Agent O’Malley, isn’t it?"

Cass closed her eyes and thought. Wonderful! Could this night get any better? "Yes, Admiral Chegwidden. Forgive me, sir. I was just so surprised to see you down here so early. I was given to understand you wouldn’t be joining us for another two days or so."

He asked dryly, "Do you always attack people who surprise you, Agent? And just what, may I ask, has you so upset that you came barreling around that corner without looking where you were going?"

Cass stared at him and fought to keep her temper and her cool. "Uhm…nothing, Admiral. Excuse me, I’m just on my way back to my hotel." She pushed past the startled man and continued on, not giving him a chance to say anything more.

AJ stood with his hands on his hips, staring at her retreating form. He muttered to no one in particular, "I will be damned." He shook his head and continued on the walk that was supposed to have calmed him down enough to get some sleep.

Cass pounded up the steps and nearly broke the key off in the lock getting her door open. She slammed it with a viciousness that should have earned her at least a shout of disapproval from the other guests. But this was the French Quarter and you didn’t stay here expecting the same kind of quiet that you would expect in other cities.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn." She muttered as she paced around the small room. She sank down on the bed and put her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe she left Scully at the bar or that Chegwidden had seen her so upset. She fell back across the bed and stared up at the ceiling trying to sort out her emotions. She dare not close her eyes for fear that all the memories nudging at her subconscious would take control. She pulled herself up and walked to the window. It was no use. Whispers long buried shouted in her ears. Terrible sights flitted across her memory -- her father’s shouts of rage, the sharp slap. She rubbed her cheek at the 30 year-old memory. No one had believed her. And in the end, even Jezz had turned away from her. Her sneer had been unforgiving. The words ate at Cass’s soul after all these years. "He loves me best you know, he would never give me up for you." A friendship ruined, an enemy made. She stared at the tree in front of her remembering the gnarled magnolia in her front yard where two friends sat in its branches, sharing Moon Pies and secrets.

A light switched on in a room across the courtyard. A tall masculine form silhouetted against the sheer curtains. She stared at it a moment before she made the connection. Crap. They’re here in the same hotel. She watched with amusement as the distinctive outline of the obviously bald man pulled a shirt over his head. She allowed voyeurism to block out the images. The memories of her past encounter with the Judge Advocate General, so much easier to deal with than her personal demons.

She shook her head in amusement, remembering her surprise that he hadn’t hit the other two agents assigned to the case. Hell, she had felt like hitting them herself once she had waded into the case and found that the Navy Lieutenant hadn’t sold secrets to the Russians. And, when she discovered Collins and Foster had mishandled the evidence so badly that even if the kid had been Ira Rosenberg himself, they couldn’t have done anything about it. She crossed her arms, a sudden chill taking her. Chegwidden and she had gone nose to nose over the case and proper procedure before she had figured out the kid was being set up. He had been gruff in his thanks, but the letter in her file attested to his appreciation of the outcome. She had wondered vaguely at the time if he would call her, but had been relieved that he never had. She turned from the window, muttering to herself. "Hell, I’m way too old for him. He probably dates sweet, dewy-eyed young things."

She quickly shed her clothes and climbed into the high four-poster. She forced herself to relax by doing multiplication tables backward. Morning would come early and she needed to be fresh when Skinner called them all together. Her last thought was of the surprised look on Chegwidden’s face when she had nearly run him over.

The alarm went off at 7:00 AM and Dana Scully slapped all over the nightstand trying to silence it. Finally a large form nearly suffocated her as Skinner rolled on top of her, reached over and deftly shut off the offending buzz. When he rolled back off of her after her muffled, "Ooof, mfph, damn," he pulled her with him capturing her in a tight embrace and kissing her deeply. She broke the kiss and glared at him. "You’re heavy, you know that, don’t you?"

He grinned wolfishly. "And you are a space cadet this early in the morning. I thought my ears were going to bleed if I didn’t shut that damn thing off." He held her tightly because he knew she was ready to hit him. He finally let her pull away and he was not disappointed, her eyes suddenly blazed in passion and she quickly straddled him and placing her hands on either side of his head and lowered her lips to meet his. Nipping and pulling his lower lip with her teeth, she teased him until his large hands came up to caress her back and sides, barely grazing her breasts causing her to arch up in bliss. His fingers trailed up her spine and grabbed her fiery red head and pulled her down into a heated kiss. Just as his other hand began to trace down her hips to her core, the phone pealed out a long loud bleat. They froze, their eyes meeting in pained shock.

"Shit!" Skinner groaned.

Dana rested her head on his chest and muttered, "Terrific."

The phone shrilled again and Scully gingerly scooted over and reached for the phone. "Scully."

Skinner watched in interest as the annoyed expression left her face. He helped her sit up and listened with interest as her voice rose in excitement. "Yes. Yes, Dr. Ball. That’s wonderful. No, I understand, it’s way too early to be completely optimistic." She stood and smiled down at Skinner. "No, I was up anyway. I’ll be there in less than an hour. What? No, I’ll call him myself. I’m sure I have the number here." She hung up the phone.

Skinner waited patiently while Scully suddenly ran into the bathroom and shut the door. When she returned, a toothbrush in her mouth he was sitting up and reaching for the remote control. "Roberts is showing signs of coming out of his drug-induced psychosis. Dr. Ball thinks we might be able to get some real information out of him later today. Do you know what room Chegwidden is in?"

Skinner nodded and reached for the phone, punching in a number. "Admiral?… Skinner. I’ve just heard from Dr. Scully that your young Lieutenant is coming around. She’s going to go to the hospital. Why don’t you meet her downstairs in a half-hour and you can drive over together. She can fill you in on what little they do know…Fine, I’ll tell her…You’ve met right?…Oh, yeah. I remember that case."

He hung up the phone and stood, all thoughts of wild passionate sex gone from either of their minds. He strode through the connecting doors and entered his own bathroom, as Scully was turning on the shower in hers.

Twenty-five minutes later, Dana Scully stepped out of the elevator and saw that Chegwidden was already waiting for her. He was dressed casually in a khaki open collar uniform, his cover held firmly between his arm and side. "Agent Scully. It’s good to see you again. Shall we talk in the cab?" She smiled up at him in amusement. He had been very uncomfortable with the way Mulder had handled the strange murder case involving the Navy captain. Mulder had insisted the murderer had been a vampire. She thought the Admiral would blow a gasket and punch her partner out. No one ever figured out how Captain Ross had died – the case was still open and Mulder still stuck by his original profile.

The wind this morning was more appropriate for March than it had been for quite some time. Breezy and carrying a bit of a chill, it whipped the remnants of last night around their feet as they stepped to the curb, Chegwidden’s hand resting in the dip of her back. He placed his cover firmly on his head and hailed the approaching cab.

As they settled back for the ride across town to the hospital Scully kept waiting for Chegwidden to start the conversation. She had gulped down a too-hot cup of coffee that had arrived just as she was leaving. She was still a little hung over from last night, but mostly she was just not prepared to go into a lengthy discussion with someone that wasn’t going to be receptive to what she had to say. Finally, he broke the silence and asked dryly, "So Agent Scully, do you think you could fill me in on Mr. Robert’s condition? I understand that he was beaten badly and that a large quantity of drugs were found in his system. I assume that no one is suggesting he did this to himself."

She turned and studied the man for a few moments realizing just how hard this must be for him. "No, Admiral. No one is suggesting that Mr. Roberts was anything more than a victim of a particularly vicious crime. We have sent blood and fluid samples to Quantico for analysis, along with suggestions of what to look for. At this point, we’ve been unable to identify anything that would explain his condition. Hopefully, there will be few residual effects or chance for flashbacks later on."

Chegwidden met her gaze and asked, "How bad are his physical injuries; the ones not directly related to the drugs in his system?"

Closing her eyes to help her memory Scully ticked off a rather daunting list. "Three broken ribs, a broken arm. His face suffered a variety of lacerations and bruises. He had two blackened eyes when I saw him yesterday. His femur is fractured, and from the swelling I suspect that his right ankle is sprained."

"Christ!" Chegwidden gazed at her in wonder. "How’s his jaw?"

Slightly surprised, she thought before she answered. "To the best of my knowledge he had no broken facial bone at all…oh, wait. I know why you asked. The X-rays showed healed fractures on both sides of his jaw, but there was no further damage to the area."

The Admiral sighed deeply. "Thank God for small favors, I suppose. At least if he’s coming out of it he might be able to tell us something that we can understand."

Scully touched his arm gently. "Don’t get your hopes too far up, Admiral. Just because he is coming out of it doesn’t mean that he will remember anything that can help us." The cab pulled up in front of the hospital and AJ helped Scully from the cab and reached down to pay the driver.

They entered the small four-bed ward where Bud Roberts lay bound to his hospital bed. Standing next to him they observed a petite blond bending over him whispering something. AJ coughed into his hand to let her know they were there.

Harriet Sims whirled at the sound and upon seeing her commanding officer and a man she secretly looked upon as a second father, and let all the tension and stress of the past two days wash over her. She took a step toward AJ and if he hadn’t of met and caught her she would have collapsed to the floor. He embraced her tightly and murmured useless phrases of comfort. "Now, now Harriet. Sssh. We’re here now and we’re going to make sure that the Lieutenant gets better."

Suddenly embarrassed by her loss of control Harriet pushed away from Chegwidden and sniffled and looked around for something to wipe her eyes on. AJ shook his head and reached into his back pocket and handed her a large white square. She grabbed it and strove to get her emotions under control. She was surprised to find a small glass of water thrust under her nose. She looked up and saw the woman who had stopped by yesterday. She fought to remember the woman’s name.

"Agent Scully, FBI. I stopped by yesterday to see how your husband was doing. Remember?"

Harriet nodded and gulped down the water. "Yes, ma’am. I remember. You tried to talk to Bud, but he…he…" She started shaking, trying desperately to not break down again.

Scully patted her arm. "Don’t worry about it Mrs. Roberts, oh wait, it’s Lieutenant Roberts isn’t it?"

"Please ma’am, Harriet is just fine."

Scully smiled, "Okay."

Harriet nodded and walked back to the now silent shape on bed, the head elevated slightly. AJ walked to the other side of the bed and looked down into the mess that covered his young lawyer’s face. He closed his eyes and swallowed the rising bile. Then he reached out and gently touched Bud’s shoulder. Dana came and stood next to Harriet and waited while Chegwidden tried to rouse the man who appeared to be peacefully sleeping. It was such a stark contrast to yesterday when the restraints were the only thing keeping the man in the bed. He had thrashed and screamed and whimpered and then screamed some more. She reached out and put her arm around the shoulder of woman next to her.

"Mr. Roberts? Bud? Son, open your eyes for me." AJ gently prodded the young man. After several tries he noticed the patient’s eyes begin to flutter. When Bud saw who was standing there he immediately tried to rise up out of the bed. "Now, Lieutenant. Lay still." While Chegwidden’s tone was low, it brooked no argument. He looked up at Harriet. "Can he drink anything?"

Scully answered for her. "No. It’s still too early. We are waiting to make sure there is no internal damage that we might have missed. Just wet his lips with the ice chips there." AJ gingerly reached around the IV tubes and took the Styrofoam cup and plastic spoon and held some of the chips up to Bud’s lips. The young man managed to take a few into his mouth, but the cut lip hampered his success.

AJ put the cup back down and bent low over the bed. Scully gently moved Harriet further toward the head of the bed so she could hear too. AJ asked softly, "What can you tell us, Lieutenant? Don’t waste any breath worrying about your brother – he’s safe back at base." Bud Roberts nodded his head in understanding. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

Fear and pain contorted Roberts’ face and AJ got very low over the bed. "It’s okay, son. No one is going to hurt you now. There’s a policeman outside and nothing or no one will get past him or Harriet, here."

A strong determined voice echoed his. "That’s right, Buddy. Anybody even tries to get in here…well they just better not even try."

The sound of his wife’s voice calmed him but then he struggled to say something. "Sssssssssss."

AJ looked up at Scully who shrugged. "It might be some time before he get the use of his voice back."

"Snnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn." The young man was trying hard to communicate, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow showing his effort.

Scully appraised the patient. "Lieutenant Roberts can you take my hand?" She reached over the guardrail on the bed frame and put her hand gently against his. She was surprised by the strength with which he gripped it. "Good...uhm...Bud. Now, squeeze it please." He did as he was told. "Excellent. Now can you squeeze it twice?" Again, he squeezed once, then twice. She could tell he understood what she was going to try to do, the excitement danced in his eyes, barely visible behind the swollen lids. She smiled her encouragement and let her gaze meet Chegwidden’s. The Admiral nodded his approval and stepped back so he could see the two hands on the bed. "Okay. How do we want to do this? Going through the alphabet is going to be too slow for words."

Harriet squeaked. "Oh. I know. Buddy and I play twenty questions all the time when we have to drive anywhere."

Scully nodded. "Twenty questions it is then." She smiled and concentrated on Robert’s face knowing that there would be more to read there than just counting the yes or no hand signals. "One squeeze for no. Two for yes. Agreed?" Two quick squeezes and a very shaky nod where her answers. She smiled. "We’ll make up the rest as we go along."

Chegwidden jumped in. "How many people did this to you?"

Scully chided. "Now, Admiral, that’s not how you play. Let Mr. Roberts tell us what he needs to."

AJ glared at her but nodded.

Scully looked back at Bud knowing he would tire easily. "Okay. Animal?" Before she could get out Vegetable or Mineral, she felt two quick squeezes. "Animal. Okay. Human?" One very firm squeeze. Her eyes brows shot up in a question. "A real animal?" Two quick squeezes. A feeling of intuition worthy of Mulder gripped her. Vaguely remembering the strange conversation at the Jazz club last night she gulped and asked softly. "Snakes?" Two sharp intakes of breath from AJ and Harriet did little to distract her especially when Roberts quickly squeezed her hand twice and nodded excitedly. The action nearly took the last of his energy. His eyes fluttered but he opened them again and stared intently at the woman who somehow understood exactly what he was trying to say. Scully realized that there was more that he needed to tell her. She thought for a moment and asked. "Did snakes attack you?" It was a stupid question, but one that she needed to get out of the way. She wasn’t surprised when his firmly squeezed her hand once. "Were snakes in cages or around you when you were attacked?" His eyes narrowed and he purposely squeezed her hand once. She looked up at Chegwidden for help. He thought for a moment and then softly asked. "If we find the snakes, Bud, will we find where you were held?" The tension seemed to flow from Roberts’ body. He squeezed her hand twice.

Harriet excitedly suggested, "The zoo, Buddy?"

She was disappointed when the FBI agent gently communicated Roberts’ response. "No."

AJ began to pace, thinking hard. Not a zoo. "The swamp? No, the bayous?" He was relieved when Bud answered no. He stopped and stared out the window trying to get his thoughts in order. He let his gaze roam over the lawn surrounding the hospital, the city spreading out before him. He focused on the entrance of the hospital directly across from him and noticed the ornate carvings put there nearly 70 years ago. AJ rubbed his jaw and resolutely returned to Roberts’ bedside. He could tell there weren’t many answers left in the man.

He bent down and firmly asked, "Were the snakes real Mr. Roberts?" One squeeze. "Were they made of stone?" Two squeezes.

Dana took over, excitedly asking, "Were they carved on the building you were held in?" Two squeezes.

"Was the building in the French Quarter?" Bud took a deep breath, gave her a steady, disappointed look and squeezed her hand once. He made sure she understood before releasing his grip and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Chegwidden and Scully stepped out into the hallway. The Admiral talked briefly to the police guard standing there, making sure that the man understood that anyone trying to get into to see the patient had better have police or hospital clearance. AJ turned back to the room to watch Harriet fuss over her sleeping husband. He stood there for a few minutes wondering just what the hell he was going to do, when he felt Scully’s presence at his side.

She kept her voice low so that she didn’t disturb Harriet. "Sir, I just spoke with AD Skinner. He’s called a meeting for 1:00 PM today at the office on Canal Street. He wanted to know if you would be there."

AJ mused for a moment. He had no official standing, but his title commanded respect and really, when you thought about it, what else could he do? Bumble around all of New Orleans looking for a building that might have snake on it somewhere? He nodded, "I’ll be there." He looked down at her. "Are you going?"

She smiled and waved a batch of file folders under his nose. "Well, I’ve got to go through all the tox reports on Mr. Roberts as well as some of the preliminary lab results we got back on the bodies. But, yes, Admiral, I will be there. I’m sure that the Assistant Director will want whatever we have concerning this case."

He escorted her to the elevator and as they waited he inquired. "Who else will be there? Do you know?"

Stepping into the empty elevator she turned and favored him with a wry smile. "Oh, just about everybody and their brother, probably. New Orleans PD is sending in five detectives at AD Skinner’s request. He likes to make sure that the locals are in on cases like this – after all it is their turf and who would know about snakes on buildings better than they?" She flashed him a bright grin, "Plus the Navy is sending in several officers from their criminal investigations unit."

AJ groaned. His office didn’t have the best of relations with NCIS but he was glad for all the help they could get in the search.

As they stepped out into the bright March morning she finished. "Finally, I understand that Louisiana State Police will be on hand, in case the scope of the case reaches beyond New Orleans city limits."

AJ hailed a cab and when it arrived he helped her in and ran around to the other side. After they settled themselves and gave the cabby the address downtown, he pressed, "A regular little task force. Can Skinner keep them all under control?"

Her snort shocked him. "Oh. No problem there, sir."

::  Chapter 4  ::

They rode the rest of the way downtown in easy silence. AJ lost in his thoughts and Scully lost in the tox screen reports. She made some hasty notes in the margins. Twenty minutes later, the cab dropped them off in from of the office building housing the Bureau’s New Orleans office. As they entered the building three men, all dressed in clothes that screamed ‘underpaid cop’ followed them in. All five of them squeezed into the elevator and as Scully was reaching for the control panel one of them drawled, "Cher, ya’ll gonna press 15, too."

She peered at him over the top of the glasses that she had forgotten to take off when they had exited the cab. "Let me guess. New Orleans PD?"

He snorted. "Now, cher, do I look like a coonass to you?"

His partner, tall graying but still youthful-looking, guffawed and stuck out his hand. "Lieutenant Dan Thibedeaux, ma’am, LSP, that the State Police, ma’am. This here is Sergeants Beacom & Toliver. And just who might you be, pretty lady?"

She shifted the files in her hands, but before she could introduce herself, the elevator doors opened onto the 15th floor and she preceded them out of the small elevator. She noticed that Skinner was standing down the hall talking to, or rather listening to a highly agitated SAC Robins. As if personal radar alerted him to her presence he turned, said something brusque to Robins and walked up to the group. Dana turned to the three LSP officers. "Gentlemen, this is FBI Assistant Director Skinner. The man behind you is Admiral Chegwidden, the Judge Advocate General of the Navy and I’m Agent Scully." She turned back to Skinner and introduced the three men. "Sir, where should we set up shop?"

Just then Robins pushed past Skinner and greeted the three men heartily. "Danny, Bobby, Tommy! Glad they got you guys to come down for this. Come with me and I’ll show you where we’re meeting."

Skinner and Chegwidden exchanged amused glances while Scully stared after Robins in shock. Her mutter of "pompous little jerk" caused Chegwidden to look at her in amusement.

Skinner, however, snapped. "Admiral, will you excuse us, I need to speak to Scully about her findings. The meeting is in room 1510. There’s coffee there and I think Robins ordered in lunch."

AJ strolled down to the room and opened the door marked with ‘Task Force Headquarters’ on a small hand lettered sign. He stopped just inside the room to get his bearings. The room looked like a thousand classrooms across corporate America. Ten tables each with three metal and plastic chairs behind them were placed in two rows. In the front of the room a screen had been pulled down from the ceiling and an overhead projector was set up, a pile of transparencies ready for use next to it.

AJ looked around and spotted five men in shirtsleeves and ties sitting at the first and second tables of the first row of tables, they were all studying reports in front of them and AJ assumed they had to be local FBI agents. The three state troopers – still huddled in conversation with Robins – were across the room in front of the second row of tables. AJ noted that Thibedeaux had an amused, condescending look and realized that the man did not hold Robins in any great esteem.

Seated by herself at the table farthest from the door was Cass O’Malley. AJ started to walk over to her when the door opened again. He turned to see who the newcomers were and called out a hearty, surprised greeting. "Marshall! It’s good to see they sent you."

Marshall Wilcox, looking every inch the former fullback that he had been at Notre Dame smiled in recognition. He stepped forward, his hand extended. "Admiral, good to see you again, sir. I see NCIS has to pull JAG’s fat from the fire again."

JAG and NCIS had a very shaky history together. Rabb and NCIS were like oil and water. However, AJ had worked with Agent Wilcox on several occasions and he was glad that Washington had seen fit to assign the veteran agent to the case. Wilcox turned to the two men who had come in with him. "Admiral Chegwidden this is Richard Struggs (4) and Harry Loman (6)." AJ reached out to shake hands with Struggs who was tall and broad like Wilcox, but whereas Wilcox’s rich chocolate complexion was clear and smooth, Struggs pockmarked face had the pallor of dead fish. Harry Loman was the baby of the group. Hell, AJ thought, he makes Bud Roberts look old.

AJ started to jokingly take umbrage to Wilcox’s retort when the door opened again and Skinner and Scully strode into the room. Skinner looked around. "Robins, who are we missing?"

Robins looked sulkily back at the AD and whined. "NOPD. They show up when they feel like it."

Skinner put his hands on his hips and glared. "Then I suggest you get ME the chief of NOPD on the line and I WILL find out where they are."

Robins’ look of defiance lasted all of five seconds, about the time it took for Skinner to make it to the front of the room. Robins hastily went to the phone sitting on a desk pushed up against the wall and started to punch in a number when the door burst open and a blond woman, followed by 4 stony-eyed men filed into the room. AJ, who had moved to the back of the room, barely heard the ‘Oh, fuck’ that escaped from Agent O’Malley.

The newcomers stopped just inside the door. The blond, dressed in a somber black business suit that did nothing to hide the rich curves of her breasts and hips, took inventory of those whom where present. She noted AJ with a lift of her eyebrow and then allowed her gaze to fall on the woman seated just to his right. The sneer turned her eye-popping beautiful face into something out of Greek mythology. AJ half expected her tresses to turn into a writhing mass of snakes.

The rest of the room watched in silence as the blond made her way past the three NCIS agents and up to O’Malley. "Well, Cass, too good to come and visit your old friends? Or is the FBI just going to ignore everything that we poor locals have done on the case?"

Skinner’s eyes narrowed as he watched O’Malley struggle with some pretty powerful emotions. He had known that this was her hometown, but not much beyond that. He cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me." The timbre of his voice left no doubt that he expected an instant response.

Holding Cass’ gaze until the last as she turned around, the blond finally acknowledged the tall, bald hunk. Her appraisal as she walked forward was frank and open. Her voice held none of the lilt of Nawlins. When she was within two feet of him she languidly held out her hand. "Lieutenant Jezz Morris, NOPD. I’m in charge of the investigation…on the local end, of course." Then as an afterthought she motioned to the men that had followed her in. "These are my men." While not emphasizing the ‘my’, her tone left know doubt exactly where she stood in this investigation.

Dana Scully took the chair next to O’Malley and AJ, sensing fireworks were about to go off, decided to take the seat on the other side of the still shaken agent. The three of them watched as Skinner returned the woman’s frank gaze.

Skinner sighed inwardly. He hated this part of any investigation. But he knew he was good at it, he had had plenty of practice. He looked down at the papers on the table in front of him and picked up a thin file folder and held it out to her. "This your report, Lieutenant?"

She barely glanced down at it. "Yeah. Is there a problem?" Her smirk said it all. This is my town, sweetie; I’ll tell you what you need to know.

When Skinner responded, even Chegwidden sat up straighter in his chair. He could feel O’Malley cringe and saw Robins pale. Chegwidden seldom had to use that tone on any of his people but when he did, there was no mistake as to his intent, just as there was no mistake to anyone in the room as to who was in charge of this investigation.

Skinner never raised his voice, but his words carried to every person in the room. "Well, Lieutenant, since you have so little to contribute to the investigation, since you have obviously had no success whatsoever in getting even the tiniest lead, perhaps I need to call the chief and have someone else assigned to this task force. Frankly, I don’t see from what you have done here that you can help this case at all."

It was brutal. The room was so quiet that the breathing of the few people still capable of drawing air in sounded loud and almost labored. Jezz Morris narrowed her eyes; Skinner remained calm and placid, waiting for her decision. She snapped. "Not everything I found made it into the report."

Even in the deadly silence in the room only Cass heard Scully’s amused, "Wrong answer."

Skinner lay the report down on the table. "Madam, I was unaware that I was brought down here to step on your toes. It was my understanding that I was sent down here to HEAD an investigation that was making a lot of people extremely nervous. Now, it seems that we are at an impasse. I see two ways out of it. One, I inform your superiors that you are obviously capable of handling the mess all by yourself and that we aren’t needed." He jerked his head taking in both the NCIS and FBI personnel. "We’ll let you and LSP just go on with what you’ve been doing so well." The challenge hit to the core of the problem. No local force liked to be told that the Feds were coming in to take over a case. The FBI itself did not handle the politics of the situation very well either and Skinner tried harder to deal kindly with the egos involved, but this woman…something about this woman annoyed the shit out of him. There was an underlying something to her, something that ran deep and disturbed Agent O’Malley. He had been in this game too long not to trust what he felt and what he saw.

Morris put her hands on her hips and huffed. "And the other way?"

Skinner moved his eyes to include everyone in the room. "The other way Lieutenant is for you to sit down, along with YOUR men and contribute to the investigation. I am in charge here, Lieutenant. If you have a problem with that then get out and take your report with you. I will call your supervisor and have him or her assign someone else."

Cass watched the interplay in amazement. Few people ever went nose to nose with Jezz Morris. Fewer still won. She hoped that Skinner knew what he was doing; he couldn’t know the powerful friends – well not friends, Jezz had few friends – the powerful people that owed Jezz favors. She wasn’t even sure if the NOPD would honor Skinner’s request.

Jezz Morris turned away from Skinner and walked to the back of the room, said something to her people and then the five of them walked to two of the tables and sat down. Her lips curled up in a sneer. "You’re in charge Mr. Skinner, you can have all the blame for this one." She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest and waited patiently for him to begin.

Skinner turned his back to the room and walked to the overhead projector. In that short space of time he had regained control of his anger and refocused his energies on the task ahead of them. He muttered something that Scully couldn’t hear, but a young agent stood up clutching a stack of blue covered reports and placed three on each table.

As the young man was doing that, Skinner turned to face the room. "In case there are some of you who I haven’t met, I’m Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the FBI. We have five agents from the local field office. We also have three agents from NCIS – Naval Criminal Investigation Services. Louisiana State Police has sent in three of their best and NOPD has given us five locals whose contribution will be invaluable. Finally, Agent Scully is here on behalf of the Director of the FBI. Agent O’Malley is also here from Washington. O’Malley is Agent Mulder’s partner. Rounding out the Washington contingent is Admiral Chegwidden, Commander Rabb’s commanding officer."

Skinner cleared his throat and looked around the room. "The focus of this task force is to find the people responsible for the vicious murders of the five sailors and to find, hopefully still alive, Agent Mulder and Commander Rabb. For those of you not completely familiar with the case, the local office has put together a packet containing all of the pertinent information. Included are crime scene photos and the initial reports." He looked over and caught Morris’ eye. "As soon as NOPD has completed their report, we will add it to the packet. This is what we know. The actual murders did not take place in the warehouse where the bodies were found. There was not enough blood or trace evidence to warrant that conclusion." Chairs at the NOPD table scraped the floor as the men moved in embarrassment. Jezz sat stony-faced and still. Skinner continued. "While there was evidence of voodoo ritual and Agent Fox Mulder’s profile supports voodoo being involved, recent information suggests that perhaps a more violent off-shoot ‘religion’ might be the more likely culprit. I have assignments laid out in the back of the booklet and I expect cooperation between all parties."

He waited while the group reached the spot at the back of the reports. Scully quickly flipped through the book and pitied the poor agents and secretaries who must have been drafted early this morning by Skinner to complete the task. He had done a lot in less than four hours. Skinner continued. "As you can see I have tried to pair local officers with FBI and NCIS personnel. Our main objective here is to scour the town looking for buildings with snakes somewhere on or near them. Our only witness to any of this, Lieutenant Roberts, has been able to only give us this little bit. We aren’t even sure how reliable this is, but it’s all we have to go on. I know how exhaustive this will be but with two of you in each car, it may pan out. Agent Cramer(5)." Skinner nodded to an older, worn-out looking man. "You and Detective Arnold (5) will take the area closest to where Mr. Roberts was found. While you are in the area, you will talk, again, to every person that could have seen anything Sunday night." The two men stood, grabbed their paperwork, and trudged out of the room. Skinner continued on down through the list assigning pairs to areas just to east and north of where Roberts were found.

He assigned Agent Thibedeaux and Detective Arnie Rachell to the Garden District. "I want you to pay careful attention to the area surrounding the houses where Mulder and Rabb were seen by that maid. Talk to her and the people in the house across the street again."

Finally the only people left in the room were Scully, Chegwidden, O’Malley, Morris, Robins and Special Agent Alex Parmalli. Morris spoke up. "You know Skinner, O’Malley and I could probably come up with your building pretty quick. I’m sure that two old pros like ourselves…"

Skinner cut her off. Something in the way she said it, not to mention the look of dread in O’Malley’s eyes put him on alert. "Thank you Lieutenant, but I have other plans for Agent O’Malley. I’m sure that you and Agent Parmalli will work well together. I understand that Agent Parmalli went to school down here."

The young agent eagerly nodded his head and turned to the incredibly beautiful blond. "I used to hang out in the warehouse district all the time, before Emeril put his restaurant in. I got a couple of ideas of where to look, too."

Morris smiled wickedly and Skinner suddenly felt sorry for young Parmalli. "I’m sure you do." Morris' voice dripped honey; just a trace of her heritage tingeing her speech. "Come on then, let’s go find us some snakes." She rose gracefully from her chair and practically sashayed from the room. Parmalli followed her like an overgrown puppy.

O’Malley had watched the proceedings with dread. When Morris had made her suggestion she tried hard to keep a neutral face, but she saw that Skinner had busted her. How in the hell does Mulder get anything past this man? she thought. Relief flooded her face when Skinner nixed the suggestion, but she felt very sorry for the agent who was stuck with her childhood friend and sworn enemy. Christ, she’ll eat him up and spit him out and the only thing let will be a quivering mound of Jell-O.

After Parmalli closed the door to the conference room, Cass, Scully and Chegwidden exchanged curious glances. Skinner walked over to Robins who had contributed nothing during the meeting though he tried several times to butt in. Skinner effectively blocked him each time. Scully almost felt sorry for the obsequious little man, but memory of yesterday’s meeting hardened her heart. Skinner’s tone was completely professional and brooked no dissent. "SAC Robins, thank you for your time. I’m sure that there are duties that are pressing in your office."

Robins’ eyes grew round. He gulped and started to say something, but Skinner’s glare silenced him. He nodded and stormed down the aisle, eyes straight ahead. The door slammed shut behind him. Skinner sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. AJ empathized completely. The three of them waited to see just what the ‘head of the investigation’ had in store for them. AJ hoped he would be included, but he knew that there was no real reason for him to be. He would probably be stuck here at headquarters, lucky to be involved at all.

Only Scully understood just how much the encounter with Morris and Robins had cost Skinner. She watched from half closed eyes as he stretched and twisted his neck, longing to be able to go up and give him a neck rub. She snorted inwardly at that idea. A mere six months ago, the thought of touching her tight-assed boss, let alone giving him a neck rub was so alien as to almost qualify for an X-File. But, after that night when his hand had snaked around the tree she was tied to and gently cupped her mouth letting her know that he was there to save her and Mulder, touching him had become as necessary to her as breathing.

Skinner walked to where the three of them sat together. He moved a chair out of the way and leaned against the table in front of theirs. "I’ve got everybody out looking for the building Roberts tried to describe. I hope to hell he wasn’t dreaming." AJ leaned back and waited. He knew the risk that Skinner had taken. If Roberts’ information turned out to be wrong, then Skinner would look the fool. Skinner looked over at Scully. "How much more work do you have to do on the bodies?"

Scully sat up, clasped her hands on the table in front of her and studied them for a moment before meeting his eyes. "We’re done unless something odd turns up in the investigation and we have to go back in and verify something or look for something else. I’ve got to get my report typed and I need to call Richards."

Skinner nodded, still sometimes uneasy with his lover’s allegiance. While her position with Richards was the only thing that enabled them to have any kind of open relationship, he knew that she took her duties seriously and that she wouldn’t shield or hide facts from Richards. "Well, why don’t you grab a desk here – Lord knows nobody better be using them for the next couple of days – get your reports done and your phone calls made. If Richards doesn’t mind, I’d like you to help with the incoming reports."

Scully raised her head to meet his eyes. He was taking a risk here, but if he was willing, then so was she. They hadn’t worked closely together since the Pumpkin Patch case – the case that started everything, their relationship, and her new job. Even Cass O’Malley’s life had changed fundamentally because of the aftermath of that case. "Sure. No problem. I’ll go find a desk now." She rose, grabbed her briefcase and quickly walked out of the room.

Skinner stood up and leaned over the table, resting his weight on his fists. "I’ve got 16 people out looking for the murder site. While they are all out looking, their secondary goal is to find someone who saw Mulder and Rabb. I need you two to go and make it your primary goal. Except for the team that is checking the Chartres Street area where Roberts was found we aren’t wasting any teams in the French Quarter. O’Malley, you’ve been here two days, how much have you checked?"

Cass looked from one man to the other. Chegwidden was studying her closely but Skinner’s gaze bore a hole right through to her soul. She wouldn’t lie to either of them. "I checked the crime scene and went over the reports. I spent the first day pretty much going over what we have. Tuesday night I spent walking around the Quarter trying to find anybody that I still knew. I called in whatever favors I had left in this town. Last night Scully and I visited two more places. I told you this morning about the jazz club and what she said about the snakes being used in the ritual. But I haven’t been able to find anyone who remembers or admits to seeing either man. There is one more rather nebulous lead I want to follow – they were last seen at the Café du Monde very early Monday morning, around 3:00 AM from what I’ve read. It’s the only lead that I haven’t check out personally."

Skinner sighed and pushed off the table. He put his hands on his hips. "Fine. Start there. Admiral Chegwidden will go with you."

Cass’s eyes opened wide. "Uhm, sir. No disrespect to the Admiral, but I’m sure he has better things to do than follow me around the French Quarter."

Skinner glared down at her and then looked over at Chegwidden. "You got anything better to do?"

AJ stood up and looked down at O’Malley too. "Let’s go, Agent. It’s nearly 1400 hours and I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast and Mr. Robins idea of lunch isn’t very appetizing."

Cass couldn’t argue with him. In a town that boasted some of the best restaurants in the world, Robins bringing in sandwiches from Subway had seemed particularly cheap and mean spirited. Of course, most agents or cops seldom overlooked free food, so whatever was left was especially unappetizing.

"Come on, Admiral. I’ll take you for a sandwich that you will remember to your dying day."

::  Chapter 5  ::

AJ and Cass sat in the back of the shabby cab. Traffic was heavy and Cass knew they probably could have walked to the French Market area quicker, but the crowds were heavy for mid-week and she wanted to talk to her new ‘partner’ in peace without having to hang on him to make herself heard.

AJ sat back and while he appeared to be watching the crowds and cars around him he kept glancing over at the woman beside him and thought, <<<She looks exhausted. Scared of something, too.>>> He cleared his throat. "So you’re taking me to a grocery store?"

She smiled back at him. "Central Grocery has the best muffalettas in the city. In my opinion, of course." She caught the glare of the native in the driver’s seat and was sure that he wanted to disagree with her, but was too polite or too mindful of his tip to say anything. "You know what a muffaletta is?"

AJ thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I know what I had in Italy. Sorta like a sub sandwich, right?"

The cabby and Cass found common ground as they both snorted their disdain. AJ laughed, pleased to see amusement take the place of the earlier disquiet that she had displayed in the presence of the NOPD detective. He turned toward her and nailed her with his stare. "So, tell me all about this super sandwich. It is a sandwich, right?"

Twenty minutes later, they were crossing against traffic, AJ guiding her through honking and rude shouts, clutching the plastic shopping bag containing their lunch.

They climbed the small rise to the levee and found an empty bench. The wind had died and the humidity was rising, but the smell from the river for once was blowing away from downtown. AJ opened the bag, peered in and then pulled out a large paper bag, already showing oil marks on its brown surface. He glared over at Cass. "What is this, a heart attack waiting to happen? Colonel MacKenzie would probably love this."

She cocked her head to look up at him. "Who’s Colonel MacKenzie?"

"She’s a lawyer in my office. She adores Beltway Burgers."

Cass’s smile lit her face. "A woman after my own heart then. I love a good greasy hamburger after a particularly bad day."

Splitting the huge sandwich, they ate in companionable silence. Cass had snagged two Barq’s root beers to have with the sandwich and after AJ wolfed his half down, careful to not spill any of the marvelous olives, he popped the top of the can that she handed him. He settled back to watch the barges on the river, while she finished the last of her sandwich. There were many questions that he wanted to ask, but was unsure of where to start. He had an innate sense of privacy and was hesitant to broach the subject he most wanted to.

He found the napkins in the bottom of the bag and rubbed the wonderfully favored oil from his lips and fingers. When Cass stuffed the waxed paper and foil into the bag and rose to toss it in a garbage receptacle he allowed his gaze to take in her denim-clad bottom. Her lightweight jacket came just down to the middle of her butt so he could admire the view. When she reached down to pick up a piece of paper lying next to the trashcan, he silently whistled to himself. <<<Very nice. Why the hell didn’t I call her last year when I had the chance? Oh! Yeah. Sydney.>>> The thought of his former girlfriend and her drug-dealing son darkened his mood and drove the questions from his thoughts.

Cass turned in time to see a frown crease AJ’s face. She looked at him quizzically as she approached. "Thought of something?"

Startled by her question, AJ harrumphed and rose. "No. Uhm, the sun was in my eyes."

Cass scrunched up her face and looked up at the cloud filled sky. "Oooookay." She wondered what had him so flustered but decided to let it pass. "We should probably get over to the Café now. We can catch the wait staff as they change shifts."

AJ brusquely nodded and allowed her to set the pace back down the hill. As they strolled up toward the Café du Monde, several street performers hurried past them. AJ shook his head in wonder.

Still confused by his abrupt change in manner, Cass walked quietly beside him. When they reached the café she paused at the entrance and found a small table near the center. She leaned over toward him. "Go grab that table, I’ll place our order. I’m not hungry enough for beignets. You?"

AJ stared in awe at the powdery white confections, piled high in baskets, on the tables around him. "No. Coffee is fine."

She pointed out the table again and turned. As she did so she called over her shoulder, "I hope you like it strong."

Before Cass got their coffee, she sought out the manager and flashed her ID. "I would like to talk to everyone working here. I don’t want to cause a scene and I won’t keep them long. Just have everyone stop by my table. They can’t miss it." She smiled and nodded toward the khaki clad AJ, "It’s the one with the Admiral."

Mrs. Annabella Washington looked over at AJ and whistled. She was an older black woman, dressed in the same uniform that her staff wore, and so trim that Cass doubted she ever ate any of the doughnuts she sold. "Oh, chile, dat man could tug my boat anytime." She laughed heartily at her own joke, completely ignoring the slow red flush that spread up Cass’ cheeks.

Cass tried to look stern but gave up in the face of the other woman’s good mood. She sighed resignedly before continuing. "I also need to see the time sheets for Monday morning, early. No. Give me the whole day and the day before, too."

Mrs. Washington’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Girl, what’chu think this is? We ain’t computered here. I gots ta go look for them sheets."

Cass allowed her look to match the other woman’s. "We’ll be here awhile. You pass the word and then go get those sheets. Thanks." Her voice was polite but left no room for argument.

Cass sighed heavily and looked over at Chegwidden. They had chosen the perfect time to begin. The morning crew was in a hurry to get home and they made a point to obey the orders of their boss, but didn’t dally long at the table, quickly looking at the pictures of Mulder and Rabb before denying ever seeing them. Using the time sheets that Mrs. Washington had dropped off they checked off the names of each waitress or waiter they talked to. The afternoon crew started straggling in just before 4:00.

Checking the names on the sheet they weren’t really surprised when only one of the people interviewed so far today had been on duty at 3:00 AM the morning Rabb and Mulder disappeared.

Mrs. Sampson, pinched-faced and tired looking, her skin more gray than brown, had covered for another waitress Monday morning, but she had worked the counter inside and swore she’d seen nothing. Her accent was thick and Cass grinned understandingly as AJ strained to understand the woman. "Now lemme see. I wer’n out chere but cupla time dat mornin." She scrunched up her eyes in thought. "Now Hattie! Hattie were out chere dat mornin'. You talk to Hattie?"

Cass stared at the time sheet. "Her name isn’t on the list."

The waitress sneered. "Course not. She worked for Miz Pally."

Cass checked the sheet again and was about to call the waitress on her information but instead questioned, "Mrs. Palondikar?"

"Course!" Mrs. Sampson’s sneer grew.

AJ asked smoothly. "What is Hattie’s last name?"

Mrs. Sampson smiled at him. "Willis. Miz Hattie Willis. She worked da whole room for near t’an hour dat morning. Not dat it was all dat busy, y’all hear me?"

Cass nodded her agreement. "Mondays mornings are pretty dead. Is Ms. Willis supposed to work today?"

Mrs. Sampson stared past them toward the Moonwalk, her eyes darting around. Finally she leaned over conspiratorially. "Now dat you say it she ain’t been back to work since dat morning. Course, I reckon she could be taking some time off, but she ain’t never done dat befo’."

Cass stiffened at this information. AJ leaned forward in his chair. "Tell me Mrs. Sampson, do you happen to know where Mrs. Willis lives?"

Mrs. Sampson preened at his attention. "No. But Miz Washington would know. She keeps the books and pays us. But I gots ta get back to work now." Mrs. Sampson rose from the vinyl covered chair and moved off to the small service station a few yards from them, scanning her area, preparing for her shift.

AJ stood and gathered the papers. "Come on, Agent O’Malley, let’s go find Mrs. Wills. Unless, of course, you think we should stick around and finish interviewing the rest of the second shift."

Cass checked the time sheets in front of her, did a quick tally before shaking her head. "No, from what I see everyone left to interview didn’t work Monday morning." She held out the time sheets and grinned evilly. "Why don’t you go and return the time sheets and get the address from Mrs. Washington. I’m sure that she will be very forthcoming – if YOU ask her."

AJ stared down at her. "And why would Mrs. Washington be more willing to give me the information than you?"

Cass smiled down at the table, then quickly stood and began to clean off the coffee cups and wrappers. "I have no idea, really. Just a hunch."

"Uh huh." His sigh carried across to where she was depositing the trash from their three hours of interviews.

AJ announced as they left Café du Monde, "Let’s go back to the hotel and change. I’m feeling rather conspicuous in my uniform."

Cass started to protest. She liked his uniform. <<<Get a grip, O’Malley.>>> A few minutes later they were walking up St. Anne past the St. Louis Cathedral.

He paused to stare into the back garden of the cathedral, the grounds lush and green. She came and stood beside him as he peered through the high wrought iron. He looked down and said authoritatively, "And, I will buy you dinner. You sprang for lunch. Afterwards we can grab a cab and go see Mrs. Willis on Rampart Street."

Cass returned his smile. "Well, I won’t argue, but I hope you aren’t planning on getting into one of the well known restaurants."

"Why, you think I can’t get a reservation?" he asked haughtily.

She laughed and tugged on his arm, pulling him toward the hotel. "No, I just don’t think we should take that much time. Mrs. Willis’ address is technically still in the Quarter, but it isn’t a very good or safe part and I think we should get there as early as possible."

As they entered the elevator of the hotel, AJ considered what she had said and suggested. "Why don’t we get up there right away and then have a fashionably late dinner then?"

He waited for her to unlock the door to her room. "Okay. Sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour?"

"An hour then, Agent O’Malley." He turned on his heel and backtracked toward the elevator and his side of the building.

Cass had taken more time getting dressed for this dinner than she would have for an interview with the OPR. She had chided herself for trying on four different blouses with her soft green slacks. She had fought the urge to run down the block to the pricey shoe store she knew of and had settled for her comfortable black loafers. Her care was rewarded when she saw his smile of approval when she stepped off the elevator. She had thrown a leather bomber jacket over her pale pink cowl necked sweater that flattered her curves.

They hailed a cab. The driver reluctantly took them up St. Anne and rudely insisted that the address was just down the block.

Rampart Street was old and shabby and the locals eyed the two casually dressed outsiders suspiciously. While Cass had known this area for over 30 years she was still very happy to have the sanguine naval officer beside her. Of course, she was the only person on the street that knew his rank, but an aura of authority radiated from him. His walk, his stance, his look – even dressed in civvies -- screamed that this was a man you didn’t want to mess with.

AJ scanned the addresses. "Here it is, 1210 Rampart." For nearly 200 years poor people had lived here. The stench of centuries assailed them as they pushed through the rundown ‘foyer’ and up the rickety stairs. The dinginess of the place closed in around them. A rat scurried in the distance and the noise of dinnertime fights and shouts buffeted them. They walked down the hall of the second floor and Cass suddenly wished that she had a flashlight; the whole floor was lit by one bare bulb dangling from the ancient cloth wrapped electrical wire. AJ’s mutter was barely audible. "This place is a fire trap. What about codes?"

Cass snorted and muttered back. "Fire. New Orleans answer to urban renewal."

AJ stopped at 26 B and waited for her. When Cass peered at him inquiringly, he said solemnly, "Hey, you’re the one with the badge."

Raising her arm, Cass rapped sharply on the door. She had no intention of announcing their credentials in the hallway and hoped that the woman would open the door – on the chain if need be – and allow them to interview her without alerting the entire floor that they were there.

Twice more she rapped and heard nothing from the other side. She scrunched her nose in frustration and turned, running right into AJ’s chest. He stepped back but in her haste to untangle she managed to twist her foot. Her hand reached for whatever purchase she could find and she ended up grabbing the doorknob. AJ reached to help her regain her balance, but as she pulled back from the door, she felt the knob turn.

The door slowly pushed open. AJ looked at her in concern. She gulped and started to close the door when the smell hit her. She glanced up to see if he had smelled it too, and by the wrinkling of his nose he had. "Oh, damn." In reflex, more than any real conscious effort, she reached for her 9MM and pushed open the door. She saw, at the end of the long corridor leading into the apartment, a high window overlooking the alley in back. The streetlight flooded the room illuminating the dark bundle just inside the doorway. Cass pulled back and leaned against the doorjamb. "Damn, damn, damn."

AJ nudged her around the corner and went into the apartment, staring down at the body. He didn’t bother to check for a pulse. He had seen too many dead bodies. He turned back to see Cass pull her cell phone from her jacket pocket.

Part 6 - 8

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