Part 4

Sean rolled over in bed and reached for the phone. Blasted ringing was in his ear! Too loud! Groping for the phone and the light at the same time, he sat up in bed, hesitant to turn on the light unless he needed to.

“Yeah, if this is an obscene call make it good so I don’t have to do too much work getting myself off.”

“Detective DeLuca?” Sean swore at the voice of the PD controller at dispatch. It was work. His and Kyle’s name must have cycled to the top of the call list for the next major crime. Turning on the light, he grabbed a pen and wrote down the information before disconnecting.

Grabbing some clothes he took the phone with him punching in Kyle’s number. He was the senior officer. They always called the senior officer.

When the phone answered on the other end, he barely waited for Kyle’s sleepy voice to answer. “Get a move on, Gracie, we’ve got to make the donuts. Kiss whatever you’ve got sleeping with you goodbye and meet me out front in five.” Sean hung up and tossed the phone on his kitchen counter before hitting the streets.

“Sean?” Kyle looked at the phone with its harsh dial tone and hung up. Falling back into his bed, he looked over at the clock at his bedside. Frickin’ three o’clock in the morning! He should’ve gone to medical school and become a doctor, and then maybe he could get a full night's sleep. Looking at the empty bed next to him, he got up and tossed on clothes, any clothes he could find.

Kiss the person he was sleeping with goodbye? Right. Over four months ago, he decided he was finished with gratuitous sex, that he wanted something more. He was twenty-seven years old and had never had a long-term meaningful relationship outside of his friendship with Jack and Tess. Suddenly he wanted more, much more, and the want was becoming an undeniable ache.

Heading outside, he stood outside his apartment in the dark under a streetlamp and listened to the quiet world sleep. Everything was too quiet. It had been for a long time, since Jack Hardy died. He was sick of no laughter and love in his life. Man wasn’t a creature meant to walk alone, but he didn’t want just anyone. He wanted the only person he could never have, so maybe it would stay silent for a long time. Kyle looked down the street as headlights turned onto his street and were bearing down on him at a swift speed.

Patrol cars were the only units on scene when they arrived. Yellow crime scene tape marked off the ends of the alley while patrolmen controlled the increasing crowds rubbernecking for thrill and adventure.

Sean stopped at the tape and then went under, followed by Kyle. The patrolman glanced at their credentials and nodded them through. Sean scanned the scene and immediately identified the senior uniform on site.

“Ralph, you pulling nights now?” The man turned at Sean’s voice and smiled. True, he was a ten-year beat cop with enough seniority to work the cushy day shift, but he liked a rotating shift that got him in the world at different times.

“Training a rookie. Isn’t that the story? And since he'll be working a lot of nights, I decided it was best to take some for experience.” Ralph didn’t mention the problems he was having at home, or any other factor that made the nightshift look good.

“All these rookies. He good?” Sean dug in his shirt for a cigarette even though he knew they wouldn’t be there. He didn’t smoke. Ralph handed the Detective a few from his pack.

“He’ll age. Tonight helped.”

“What’s with the peanut gallery?” Sean motioned to the crowd. Three in the frickin’ morning, didn’t these people have homes?

“We’re at the back of Club Hell. The crowds are the fringes left after bar time. Our eyewitnesses were leaving the club from the side door when they found the body. I’ve got them inside the actual club right now.”

“Good. See what your men can do about thinning the herd and clearing away the scene. You call for Crime Unit and support teams?”

“Done.”

“Good man. When they arrive have the photo-jockey take some crowd photos nice, clear and clean. Thanks for the smoke, Ralph.” Sean walked away and motioned for a quiet Kyle to follow. They walked the edges of the crime scene, careful not to trample or disturb any evidence. Looking back, he called over to Ralph again. “Hey, Ralph, see what the surrounding building can do about turning on some building lights here, or get me some torches up.” Ralph gave him a wave of acknowledgement and looked at the building tops for hanging lights. Taking his squawk from his uniform, he called dispatch for some mobile light units.

Sean approached the wrapped body with a hand flung to the side, and looked up and down the alley. Easy access both ways. It wasn’t a double blind alley with only one opening. Looking down the street he saw the steam covers on the ground, and noted how close the body was to the dumpster. It was rolled from the back of a car.

“Kyle, go pull the crime kit out of my trunk.” Sean moved his eyes up and down the dumpster looking for blood, but he knew there wouldn’t be any. Kyle returned quickly and had their kit open. Sean took the heavy light and shone it around the outline of the body. It looked cleaned. Taking the tape, he quickly outlined the body before he took a chance of moving it, and placed a tape to the topside of the clear plastic covering the stiff.

Standing, he took the light from Kyle and beamed it out over the field as much as possible while Kyle loaded a camera and took pictures from all angles. They needed to record the scene before disturbing or any information altered by the disturbance. Any information changed would be lost. Kyle spent the pack and pulled the roll marking it with the crime scene number.

Sean looked up at his partner. “You ready?” He waited for Kyle’s nod and squatted down, putting on latex gloves. Using the edge of a pen he carefully opened the plastic wrap. From the hand, he already knew it was female. Pulling back the cover, he actually sat back as Kyle gasped when they saw the full body. Quickly returning the cover back to its original position, Sean stood up swearing as he looked up and down the alley. Kyle was silent, his eyes not leaving the body.

Rubbing his hand up his neck, Sean looked at his partner. “You all right?”

Kyle just nodded. It was...the body was...he didn’t know. “Sean, what was that?”

“Manufactured death. The body was processed.” Sean called through to dispatch as the support units arrived. Simon, the chief forensic officer headed straight for the Detectives. He paused next to Sean listening to him argue with dispatch.

“I don’t care. Call him!” Sean listened to their response. “Look, I’ll take full responsibility.” Sean walked away down the alley screaming in his receiver. Simon just calmly put on latex gloves and looked at the body. Quickly standing and looking at a pissed off Sean trying to convince dispatch that it didn’t matter that Guerin was on the injury list and down for desk duty only. He wanted him on frickin' scene!

Simon walked over and took the phone from Sean. “This is Captain Simon Morley, call Guerin now or look for another job!” Simon disconnected on dispatch and made another call on Sean’s phone. A soft gentle voice answered, and Simon asked for Jim Valenti, apologizing to Amy DeLuca for waking her.

“Jim? It’s Simon. I’ve got your team of DeLuca and Valenti on a crime scene, but I need Guerin. I just ordered dispatch to pull Guerin from desk.” Simon listened to Jim for a moment, and then down at the plastic mound of a once living body. “Worse, we need him.”

Sean looked over at Simon. “Thanks Simon.”

“No problem. This should be Guerin’s anyway, and if it wasn’t for him being put on desk duty, he would already be here.”

Sean knew that and drew on his smoke. “Kyle and I have witnesses inside. Call us when Michael gets here.”

“Will do.” Simon saw the mobile light unit arriving. “Go do your thing, and I'll stop Michael from starting without you.”

“Thanks.” Sean and Kyle moved towards the side door of the club to go talk to their witnesses. Sean smiled at Simon talking to his men.

“Club Hell! Damn, guess I’ll finally get to see the inside. We’re moving up boys, so try to look hip. Set up those lights in cross transit and broadside. I need this alley lit like Christmas. Someone shoot the crowd, and make them clear nice pictures that a mother would want to frame. Charley pull measurements and someone find me some tire tracks or rubber.”

~~~

A startled Mr. Booboo streaked off the bed and Maria moaned at the sudden ring of the phone as she burrowed even deeper into Michael’s side, refusing to wake up. Michael looked down at her and kissed the top of her head as he reached across to pick up the handset.

“Someone better be dead.” Michael suddenly sat up as he listened to dispatch, sliding his hand comfortingly down Maria’s naked back to calm her from the loss of his body. Reaching down he pulled the covers up over her, knowing he was going to leave and she would be cold. “Wake Evans. Tell him to meet me on-site. Any other units already deployed?” Michael swore at Kyle and Sean’s name. He was already tired of them and this joint partnership thing wasn’t even twenty-four hours old!

Turning on a soft bedside light muted so not to wake Maria, Michael stood to get dressed, and then sat back down. Bending at the waist, he rested his head in his hands between his legs. Dizzy, nauseated, his stomach was doing flips. It had to be the sandwich. Maria’s hand moved up his back and then around to his front as her body came to rest on his back hugging him.

“You okay?” Michael closed his eyes and rested as she kissed him on his back and stroked his stomach. “Michael?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just sat up too fast.” Michael was starting to worry. He had been sick every day for the past week, and he never got sick. “It’ll pass after I’m up for a while.”

“Think you need some food or something?”

“A big no.” The thought of food right now was enough to take him out. Looking back at his bedmate, he noticed that she looked pale and tired. “Now you go back to bed, and I’ll call you later in the morning, okay?”

Maria lay back in the bed and smiled at him. She was tired, and though she felt sympathy for him at his loss of sleep, she was still going back to sleep herself. To make it up to him, she would be sure to dream something erotic with him in it to share with him later.

“Okay, Detective. But you’ll call me if you need me?”

“I always do.” Maria watched him as he quickly dressed, conveniently ignoring his knee brace. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks and started swearing.

“What is it?”

“No car. Can’t control the bike until my knee is better. I haven’t replaced mine, and that leaves only your Jetta. Dammit...”

“Take the GTO.” Michael looked at her in shock, startled, and actually turned on.

“Really?” Michael climbed back on the bed and trapped her between his two hands placed on either side of her head. “I’ll have to take it to work.”

“I know, but no high speed chases. Because, if you wreck my car, Detective, I will be very, very, very pissed.”

“God, but I love it when you get pissed.” Michael teased and bent to kiss her goodbye. She stopped him before their mouths could connect.

“Not this pissed.” She promised.

Michael kissed her at that, and what should’ve been a quick goodbye, wasn’t. What started as a quick kiss turned hot and passionate in less than a second. He was suddenly stretched out on the bed along her body with the covers pushed off so he could move his hands down her skin.

Her arm came up around his neck and was holding him tight as she made those noises in her throat as he sucked her tongue into his mouth and feasted on it. Maria’s hand came up to hold his face, to stroke his cheek as she pulled back for a breath.

Michael tried to regain some of his sanity. He was supposed to be going to a crime scene, but the smell of her, the taste, and the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips distracted him from his task.

“I need to leave.”

”I know.” She kissed him again. And the kiss took off again. Michael ran his hand down her leg to curl around to her inner thigh and pulled it up to drape across his hip. Pulling her in close, his mouth moved to the front of her neck and left kisses and nips around the soft skin feeling her throat work under his tongue, as she tried to pull air into her labored lungs.

“I’ve gotta go.” Michael said standing up away from the temptation of her body. “And you need to go to sleep, get some rest.”

Maria didn’t think that would happen anytime soon. Her body was humming, needing some relief. Lying back against the pillows in the messed up bedding, she watched him watching her, and without thinking about it or losing eye contact, she ran her hands down her front with one hand stopping at her breasts and the other continuing downward. Michael groaned as the lids of her eyes became heavy and a glimpse of tongue came out to lick her lip.

Grabbing her up into his arms he kissed her again where she now was mated to his front with him standing beside the bed and her plastered to him on her knees kneeling on the bed.

“Lunch, have lunch with me...”

“I can’t. I have my senior thesis class right after lunch so I shouldn’t leave the University...”

“I’ll come to you and bring sandwiches...” Michael said kissing her again, and moving his mouth to her neck kissing it hotly.

“Okay, yes...” Maria gulped. “Oh God, yes!” Suddenly she realized they were going too far again, and she pushed him off her body. “Go! You’ve gotta go.” Michael just nodded, and let her drop back onto the bed in the covers. With a quick look at her naked body, her swollen lips and the dark sultry green of her eyes, he quickly tossed himself down the stairs ignoring his hurt knee and was out the garage door.

Michael couldn’t shake the image of her from his head as he sped down the quiet streets of Roswell in her GTO, ignoring red lights and speed limits. She was too hyped up to just go back to sleep, so he knew what she would need to do to get off before she could find rest again. He groaned. She was going to do it alone. Without him. Without him getting to watch. Michael almost turned around right there, but a part of his sanity persisted. He needed to get to the crime scene so that part of his brain could turn off the other part that was pooling in his groin.

What the hell was wrong with them? After a year together weren’t they supposed to make appointments for sex, sit across from each other at the breakfast table, hiding behind their papers and grunting at each other for coffee refills, tossing their toast edges at each other? Instead he tended to ignore the paper, toss all the dishes off the table and f-uck her right there for breakfast. Everything about her turned him on. They found themselves wrapped around each other about three times a day, every day...sometimes more, but rarely less. That couldn’t be normal. It wasn’t normal. But he wasn’t complaining, instead he was secretly lighting candles at St. Peter’s and stuffing the poor box with his hard-earned cash in thanks. Hell, it was a better use of his money than trying to quit cussing. He was a trashmouth and he loved it.

He found the scene easily. Michael knew the address, but the lights, support units, and large gathering crowds were like a beacon. Getting out of the GTO, he scanned the crowds. What the hell was going on? It was after three a.m., on a Friday. Didn’t people sleep anymore? This wasn’t frickin’ New York City or LA. Seeing a group of young men he recognized as part of a gang that liked to strip cars and steal, Michael easily identified the leader. Approaching the young man, he put on his best Michael Guerin, Beast-not-Man look, which wasn’t that hard since he was hard and suffering sexual frustration. It was always nice to take it out on some shady characters.

“You see my ride?” Michael asked the young man who was already cringing from his glare.

“Nice wheels, copper. You on the take?” The boy was the leader for a reason. He needed to appear fearless under the most daunting of circumstances.

“Belongs to my lady, and she's a five foot five fireball that nurses this car off her mother’s milk. Her mother is the scourge of Roswell, noted for toppling monsters with just her fury. And I’m her boyfriend, who’ll find you ...not anyone else...just you , if this car is touched, blown on, or in any way even stared at in lust. I would rather spend the rest of my life waiting for execution for killing you and picking my teeth clean with your bones than to live through her anger over the stripping and mutilation of this car.”

Michael smiled a humorless smile lacking in everything, but especially warmth. It was the smile of a killer, one who suffered no remorse. The kid backed up in fright, all his bravado gone. The smile left his heart pounding, and the sweat on his feet move up his skin as all his hair stood up in fright. This was the bogeyman, his mom had warned him about if he didn’t change his ways! The bogeyman that would rip out his heart and eat his soul.

“This car looks protected to me, sir.” He ignored his gang and concentrated on getting away.

“It is. It’s protected by you. I know that you wouldn’t want anything to happen to it, so you’ll probably protect it as if your life depended on it, because it does.” Michael happily walked away almost whistling under his breath. He still felt queasy, his knee hurt, and his pants were too tight sporting an unrelieved erection, but the rest of the day was looking up.

“Hey, but I gotta go pee!” Michael just snickered to himself. Yeah right, like that kid never wet himself.

~~~

Sean and Kyle entered Club Hell from the side door. It was quiet, smelt of spilled beer, cigarette smoke, some other kinds of smoke, and vomit. They followed the sounds of talking into the main bar area. There was a tall man behind the bar with out of control dark curly hair leaning on the bar and drinking a beer. He didn't look like a bartender, but more like a band member with leather and tattoos and a few piercings. Six young students were sitting on the barstools in front of him sipping on coffee and colas and talking excitedly. His witnesses no doubt.

“I’m Detective DeLuca and this is my partner, Detective Valenti.” Flashing his badge quickly, Sean looked down at the names in his notepad noting the name of the boy who actually found the body. “I need to ask all of you some questions, but I’ll start with a Harry Cosgrove.”

A young man stood up at the calling of his name. “That’s me. I’m Harry Cosgrove. Man it was rank. I tripped over it and everything and this hand came flinging out scaring the crap out of me. I almost pissed my pants...”

“You did piss your pants,” said one of the other young men and the rest all snickered.

“Shut up! I’ll bash in your...”

Sean rolled his eyes and interrupted them with his coldest no nonsense voice. “You through?” The group of them went silent.

“Officer.” Sean looked over at the bartender.

“Detective.”

Alex Charles Whitman just nodded. Another Detective and this one reminded him of Guerin, but with a gleam in his eye that warned Alex that making sexual innuendoes to this Detective might result in some action other than a good gaybashing. Picking up the coffeepot he waved it at the two Detectives.

“I can offer you coffee and a booth to do your interviews.” Alex gestured over to the privacy booth lining the far wall.

“That would be appreciated...um, Mr....”

“Whitman. Alex Whitman. No problem. I wasn’t going to bed for hours anyway.”

“And you are exactly...who?”

“The owner.” Alex came out from behind the bar and motioned to one of his people standing in the shadows. The man quickly went to the booth and cleared it of debris and wiped down the table. “Sorry, the place hasn’t been picked up tonight. If you don’t mind, I’ll let my people start closing down.”

“Keep the coffee coming, and you can do whatever you want.” Sean stopped and looked at the man. He seemed too young to own and run a place like Club Hell. He had that headbanger look with a touch of the computer geek added in, but his eyes told a different story. They were silent, deep, and unwavering. This wasn’t a student. This was a Master, a protector.

“Done.” Alex started moving off to get his people in to clean so they could finally go home.

“Mr. Whitman.” Alex turned back. “These kids don’t look twenty-one to me.” Sean ignored the students squirming in their seats. Fake ID's were the rage, but good ones were hard to come by. Sean looked like the tough ass that would confiscate them.

Alex just shrugged and walked away. “They look legal to me.” Always the same. Another Dick messing in his house. F-ucking screws had to have something better to do then poking into his business. What the hell? Another Detective that looked like Guerin, not in physical looks, but in attitude. What? Did they have an a-sshole factory at the Police Academy?

Kyle and Sean were almost finished with the interviews when one of Simon’s men came to tell them that Michael and Max were on scene. Telling a uniform that was with them to keep an eye on the witnesses, they went to walk the crime scene.

When they emerged they found Michael surveying the alley, looking it up and down, checking out the ground. Sean went close enough to hear and watch, with Kyle on his tail.

“Ground’s dry, no moisture. More than likely no residual tire tracks will be found. Traction is good. Have your men concentrate on the potholes. Tires grip the pavement there to regain ground and momentum.” Michael moved onward, not even noticing the others. Max, who was a veteran at watching Michael work, just stood back and learned.

The crime boys were busy photographing the scene. Michael knelt down and pulled back the plastic wrap, reaching up as someone handed him a camera. He took pictures of the body, the hands, and feet. Handing back the camera, he put gloves on and touched the body, careful to keep his contact to a minimum in case of prints.

“Rigor mortis is gone. Over eighteen hours, Simon?”

“That would be my guess. I’ll nail it down in autopsy.” Michael ignored the tightening of his body of over the word ‘nail’ and the idea of nailing a certain blonde anywhere horizontally or vertically. Damn. Concentrate.

Michael looked up and down the arms, checked the feet, back of the knees, and shoulder, and under the nails. “She’s clean. No tracks or needle marks, but I’ll bet my paycheck she was drugged. More than likely put in a drink or ingested. Pull a tox screen and look for powerful sedatives.”

Michael frowned and looked closer. Moving the body to the side and looking behind the neck. “Forget it. It won’t help. Best bet, check residual blood in the spleen or liver.”

Simon came closer. “What you got, Michael?”

“You smell that? Take a real whiff.” Simon pulled a deep breath in, which was something he had trained himself against for his last twelve years in the business. “Embalming. She was embalmed.”

“Not quite the stuff used or the formaldehyde mix, but close. There’s an access port into the subclavian from the back, and the exit must be the femoral.” Michael rocked back on his heels. “Why access the subclavian from such an off angle? It would have been better and easier to do it from the front under the clavicle.”

“What does that mean?” Kyle asked quietly.

Sean looked at his partner and calmly lit another bummed cigarette. “They can’t test her blood for drugs because she no longer has any blood. The killer drained her like they do in embalming and pumped her full of preservatives. The only hope is to find residual blood in either the liver or spleen where blood is sequestered.”

Michael nodded without looking up. Turning the body slightly, he felt something in the cavity that didn’t seem right. “Kidney is an option too since it's highly vascularized with so many drugs being cleared through that organ.”

Michael suddenly started cussing in a non-stop flow of obscenities that impressed Sean as he calmly drew on his cigarette. He stood up, walked a few feet away, and then came back to kick at the garbage dumpster with his bad leg, which sent him off again.

“Calm down, Michael.” Simon frowned. Michael never lost this much control. Michael just nodded and squatted at the body again.

“F-ucking, mother puss buckets.” Kyle smiled at Michael’s attempt to clean up his language. “Screw the organs, you’re not getting anything. Pass me a body camera.” Simon handed him a specialized camera that sat on the skin and took close magnified pictures of the skin at great detail, digitally. Michael worked quickly while ordering the photographer to continue taking more photos above him. Simon’s curiosity took a turn, as did Sean’s. Max just stood away observing. There were too many heads in the mix.

Simon stopped chewing his gum in awe and horror. “Is that what I think...”

“Yeah. It’s a seam. He sliced her open. My guess is there’re no internal organs to be had. She was eviscerated.”

Sean frowned. “I don’t see the seam. How can anyone do that without leaving a scar or incision line.”

“Laser. It has to be. And a special laser because it didn’t burn the skin like one used in the surgical suites. This is a precision instrument, more like the high quality ones used in eye surgery.” Michael took some forceps from a technician and slowly peeled away what looked like skin. The group watched in disgust, as he smelt it than actually tasted it.

“Oh sh-it! That’s disgusting.” Max actually turned away. Michael ignored the group and thought on it. “It’s a fixative, like a lacquer or shellac. She was processed to be preserved.” Michael carefully dropped the piece of clear shell from the body into a collection bag. Sean nodded. It’s what made him call Guerin to the scene. The entire body was covered in the clear shiny coating. Manufactured death.

“Michael, the seam is closed. How did they suture it without leaving traces or even a stitch or staple?” Simon’s curiosity was peaked.

Michael ripped off his gloves. “He didn’t sew her up. He glued her. We’ve got a human taxidermist.” Michael walked away. Simon would call him when they were ready to open the body cavity, but Michael already knew what would be in there, and it wouldn’t be what was placed there by God. More than likely some kind of filler. That was why the chest cavity looked and felt wrong. It was lumpy .

Max watched his partner retrieve Maria’s car and drive away without another word. It wasn’t unusual for Michael to need time alone. Max knew where to find his partner. A donut shop that was open at all hours, twenty-four hours a day and served Michael's favorite glazed buttermilk donuts.

Kyle and Sean came up to him. “Max, we're finished with the eyewitnesses. You wanna talk to them?”

Max just shook his head no. Sean and Kyle knew what they were doing. “No. We’ve got what we need for now. Let’s go meet Michael at Kelly’s Donut Haven.”

Sean talked to the uniform in charge and to Simon. They would clean the site and the uniform was going to release the witnesses. It was starting to get light. Two hours. They were there for two hours and it passed in minutes. Donuts and coffee sounded good.

After they were in the car on their way to the donut shop, Kyle had to ask. “Why did you call Michael in, Sean?”

“The scene felt like more, and the body was processed. I see things, but Michael sees more. I don’t understand it. It’s not like those hokey profiler shows where the heroine gets the skinny from some flash or some psychic ability. It’s more like lifetime intuition and a sense of knowing. If I had to guess I would say Michael lived a thousand lifetimes as some kind of soldier or warrior, and what he sees in a crime scene is just a variation of thousands of deaths he's seen before. Now those past memories have become part of his instincts.”

“So you called Michael because of that? Because he could see more than you?”

“That, and because I’m determined to learn from him, and if you’re wise you’ll do the same. See how Max holds back and watches? There are teachers and there are students in life, but in this field, Michael is the Professor. He writes the book.” Sean actually let himself feel bad for a few moments. Michael really did deserve to go to Hawaii.

~~~

Maria searched the house for her shoe. It had to be somewhere, since her foot was the only one that could possibly fit into it. Maria chuckled at the thought of Michael in her high heeled strappies. Oh god, Michael as a cross dresser wearing female lingerie and high heels was too hard to imagine and too hilarious to ignore! Now Max could pull it off. She could see Max playing the Tim Curry role in a black leather bustier, fishnets and high heels.

“Damn, damn, and double damn.” Maria looked up from under the bed straight into the unblinking eyes of Mr. Booboo, or Mr. Boo, and sometimes Mr. B. Michael had renamed him to the shorter versions because he had a hard time referring to the cat by the name 'Booboo'. “Hey, Boo, did you see mommy’s shoe? Who’s a pretty kitty?” Maria stood up and carried the cat downstairs to feed him, petting and cooing to him the entire time. The cat’s purring increased in volume at all the attention plus the promise of food.

Maria was opening a special treat when she noticed her shoe on the floor in the kitchen. Finished feeding Mr. B, she picked it up and frowned. What looked like small teeth marks marred the leather. Maria looked at the cat in speculation and then just shrugged it off. That was impossible.

Maria thought about eating, but decided not to. She had awakened disoriented, being without Michael combined with a headache and a queasy stomach. Reaching for the coffee pot, she felt her stomach revolt. Oh, this was not good. She couldn’t work without coffee, or some tasty caffeinated treat. Searching through the special beverage box, Maria ignored the hot cider mix, gourmet hot chocolate, teas, and exotic coffees. Damn. Okay maybe tea. Her stomach didn’t seem to mind tea. Grabbing a bag of Darjeeling, she searched for her tea pot as the door to the loft opened.

Michael?

“Maria! Honey, I’m so glad you're home!” Maria looked at the clock and groaned. Oh god, not today! She had three classes and a lunch date with Michael.

“Morning, Mom. I’m making tea. Would you like a cup?”

Amy beamed at Maria, and took a seat. “Do you have lemon?”

“Yes.”

“Cream?”

“Half and half.”

“Honey?”

“Absolutely.” Maria started assembling all the essentials of tea while Amy opened up a huge folder. Taking a knife, Maria sliced the lemon wedges while listening to Amy as she started in on her biggest most consuming project. This project was six years in the making, and had taken a turn to omnipotence over a year ago: The Wedding.

The magnitude of this project consumed all other projects. And it slowed down the usual madness associated with Amy DeLuca, Moral Crusader, Keeper of the Sacred Chalice of Natural Spring Waters, Earth Mother to Environmental Crusaders, and Holy Terror of Roswell. She was so entrenched in her wedding plans that the law enforcement agencies around the world were celebrating a ceasefire...well except for that one small incident in the Catskills involving some kind of terrestrial rodent and a mining operation. Not even worth mentioning.

“Lemon?”

“Yes, mom. I’ve got lemon.” It was ‘Wedding’ with a capital W, not to be confused with something ordinary like other people’s weddings, like say, Charles and Di’s little affair. This was the ‘Wedding’ . After being engaged to Jim Valenti for over five years, Amy DeLuca had finally set the date, then reset the date, and then again. It was last set over a year ago, but wedding planning was consuming Amy’s time. She wanted everything to be perfect, just right. After the nightmare of her first marriage to Maria’s father, Amy had taken five years to decide that Jim was the right man, and now she was determined to make the wedding the most perfect union between them-even if it killed him first.

“The china arrived yesterday, and I’m hating the pattern. Why did I pick it? So I used it last night at dinner and it was as I suspected, the pattern gave Jim indigestion.”

“What did you feed him?”

Amy quickly looked through her catalogues at different patterns for china. “Oh the usual. Three enchiladas, two beef and bean burritos, tamales with Spanish rice and refried bean. And I made that special Pico sauce with extra jalapenos and a side of homemade guacamole. He also had three Mexican beers, and one of my Key Lime pies.”

“Gosh, it must have been the china pattern that set his tummy all topsy turvy.” Maria said sarcastically as Amy kept talking, ignoring her.

Maria started toasting some scones to go with the tea. The smell was making her rock on her feet. This wasn’t good, and her mother made things worse by mentioning the menu. Oh god, not pressed duck in juniper berry sauce. It was an improvement over the braised wood hens with an herbal foie gras and truffle dressing.

“You know, Mom, keep the china. Bring it over here, and I’ll serve you, Jim, and Michael dinner on it, as a sort of control test. It’s imported from Italy and you special ordered it. It took eight months to get, so another pattern would take at least six months or so. You really want to put Jim off again?”

“I just want this to be perfect.” Amy looked at Maria and frowned. “Honey, you look green, are you okay?”

“I ate a monster sandwich last night at one. I think the extra pickles and mixing tongue, mayo and peanut butter was a bad idea.” Maria refrained from mentioning the seafood c-ocktail sauce. She couldn’t take it.

“Honey, that sounds out of harmony. Now take the arrangement of your living room. If you where to realign the sofa to face the northern equinox...”

“No! You’re not rearranging the furniture again. Last time Michael came home and tripped over it in the dark. It’s fine.”

“But honey, if you find the harmony in...”

“Mom... Mom , I know we're misaligned, but I think we’ll just have to live with falling into the depths of despair at the next harmonic convergence.” Maria braced her hands on the counter to steady her feet as her stomach pitched again. “It’s Michael. He doesn’t do change real well.”

“Oh dear!”

Maria looked at her mother sharply. “What? What’s going on? No, 'oh dears'. No!”

“I changed the color scheme, and style. Michael needs a new tux.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I’ll take care of it dear. You’ll see. Michael adores me.”

“Uh huh.”

Actually Michael wasn’t afraid of anything. He could stand up to the most violent of criminals without flinching. He could walk through a slaughter scene, ankle deep in blood and gore, and then pick up a polish dog on his way to write up his report. But there was one thing in the world that terrorized him-Amy DeLuca.

“Mom, you have no idea what it took out of me to get him into a tux shop and have it tailored! It was impossible!” Maria did smile at the memory of the changing room. Now that was a tight spot.

“Leave it to me, dear.” Amy said offhandedly. Maria’s eyes narrowed. Was her mom talking about having sex with Michael? “Now look at the dress I chose for you.”

Maria glanced at the dress just as the sweat broke out on her brow, and she rushed to the bathroom. Amy followed concerned as she watched her daughter lose her stomach.

“Honey, oh honey, we can change it!” Maria just rested her head on her arm and moaned as Amy was wetting a cloth.

~~~

Michael stood silently watching the autopsy. Kyle was looking a little green, but Max was busy flipping through the processed crime scene photos.

“Any determination of cause of death?” Sean asked. Kyle looked at him severely as did Max. Looking at what was done to the woman, exactly which one thing actually had taken her life seemed to be a moot point.

“Suffocation. She died from lack of oxygen.” Michael said quietly. Max looked at Michael, concerned. The man looked tired and had only eaten three donuts this morning.

Simon looked over at Michael. “That’s correct.” It took him and his lab boys over two hours to figure that out. “You want to share with the rest of the class, Michael?”

“She had no signs of blunt trauma or tracks indicating drugging with needles. All the processing was done postmortem, and the blackening of her nail beds on her hands and feet indicates oxygen deficit.”

Max flipped through the crime photos and found the ones Michael had taken of the hands and feet. The nails had a blackness in the cuticles and nailbeds.

“Want to guess how she was suffocated?” Simon asked out of inquisitiveness. He had his theory, but he wanted Michael to either confirm it or give him another option.

“The fixative. He stalked her, determining she was the one he wanted. The careful scrupulous processing is not only professional and timely, but it denotes care. So his choosing of the victim would have had the same amount of meticulousness. The victim would have been drugged to submission, and while she was pliable or unconscious, he coated her in the fixative. It closed off all her pores and she slowly suffocated to death. Once she was dead, he opened her femoral artery and drained the blood while pushing in the embalming or preserving fluid through her subclavian.”

Kyle looked at the corpse on the table, and then at Michael. Sean remained silent and watchful. Something about the corpse and the murder was bothering him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Searching for a cigarette which he couldn’t smoke in that room anyway, Sean conveniently forgot that he didn’t smoke.

“Even the processing of the body indicates a fussiness that is beyond normal. The person is a borderline personality. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a handwashing tendency that denotes it, and is unable to live with others because of his obsessive compulsive disorder.”

Simon listened as he slowly opened the glued incision line. It was damn near invisible. With help from his assistant they cracked open the cavity and everyone actually stepped back, all except Michael who already back and half-sitting on a work table.

“Oh sh-it! What is that?” Simon’s assistant quickly took pictures and recorded the cavity filled with something resembling foam, a pink foam. Simon took samples as Michael came forward and took a forceps to hold a piece to examine. He had been correct. All the internal organs were gone, and the cavity had been stuffed. The victim had been eviscerated.

“It looks like a polyurethane base. It reminds me of those tire kits that allows you to fix your flat. It comes in a can, pressurized.” Michael added his piece to Simon’s. “Get Parker working on it. If it's unusual and exotic we might be able to narrow the field.” Michael looked at his watch. “You got anything else for us?”

“Naw, this will take a while. I’ll send you the report later today.”

“Okay. We’ll check back later and see how it’s going.” Michael searched through a pile of stuff. “You’ve got the "fingerprints and distinguishable marks" list on her?”

“Yeah, it’s on my desk. Your copies are on the small pile. We’ll have the dental ready by this afternoon too.” Michael nodded and walked away. He had too much to do. Not only find a killer, but identify the woman so they could return her to her family. If she was local, someone should report her missing soon.
~~~

Maria finally made it to work, and she had had time to stop and pick up some donuts and hot coffee. After she was sick, her stomach felt better. Definitely no more late night gorging on weird sandwiches. Maybe the tongue wasn’t fresh. Maria thought about calling Michael to see if he was suffering too. The last time both of them were hit with food poisoning it was courtesy of her mom and some Swedish traditional foods requiring them to wear lighted candles on their heads. Michael didn’t take it very well. The food he tried, but wearing a wreath with dripping wax was out of the question. Jim and Kyle looked sweet, but Sean took one look and ran away with mumbled claims of a date.

With a donut in her mouth, and trying to balance a cup of double-crème latte, Maria stood in her doorway staring at the offending desk, at least she suspected there was a desk under the pile of papers and books. No one really knew. Six months ago she had put in a request of a larger office, upstairs with windows, but the Department was still working on the request.

“It’s still there.” Tess said coming up behind her.

“I know.” Maria looked at Tess and watched her put away some files, and place a stack of graded exams on Maria’s desk. “Oh god! Don’t put them on this chaos. We’ll never find them again. Are those for my first class?”

“All graded and recorded. You just need to turn them back.”

“That’s a small favor. It only took three days. Is that a record for us?” Tess nodded. Maria frowned at her quiet friend. Tess looked tired and if she wasn’t mistaken there was evidence that the woman had been crying.

Maria sat down and tried to organize her piles. She could do it. She could wait until Tess told her what was going on. There was no reason to butt her nose into it. It was Tess’s business, and Maria was trying to decrease her meddling tendencies...

“So what’s wrong?” Dammit, not even a full five seconds!

“Maria.”

“Come on. You’ve been upset, emotional, and all the tears... What’s going on? Is it the anniversary of Jack’s death or something? Did I miss your birthday?”

“No, none of those things.”

“Your master's thesis is sucking, you’re in a corner, and now you feel you’re on the wrong track?”

“No.”

“Someone was mean to you, stole something, or your favorite dress is too tight and you suspect you’re gaining weight?”

Tess laughed. “No.”

“It’s a man.” Maria’s observant eyes took in a telltale sign as Tess tried to avoid her eyes. “Of course it’s a man! It’s always a man. We’re free, intelligent women who are responsible for our own orgasms, so it has to be a man.” Maria motioned to the chair across from her desk piled in books. “Kick the books and take a seat. Tell me all about it.”

“I can’t. It’s not what you think...it’s just... I can’t talk about it right now.”

Maria thought about the unhappy droop of Tess’s shoulders, almost like the weight of her problems was weighing her down. Her hair lacked its usual bounce, her face was pale, and Maria noticed a slight tremble in the clenched hands.

“Is it Max? Do you regret breaking up with him?” Maria asked. The breakup had been hard on Max. In the two months they had been together, Maria didn’t really see many sparks between the two, but both seemed compelled to be together. News of the breakup didn’t surprise her, but Max’s reaction afterwards did.

“No! Oh no. It was the right thing to do. Max...Max was a mistake. A big mistake, believe me.” Tess wanted to tell Maria, but she needed to think things out, get things clear in her head, and get over feeling guilty. “I was looking for something, and I thought he was it, but I was wrong.”

“So what was wrong with him?” Maria’s couldn’t help but ask the very question that was keeping her up at night. Curiosity and gossip was the cornerstones of her very existence.

Tess just shrugged. She didn’t even know if she knew what it was. “I thought he was someone else, and he wasn’t.”

“Did you think he was like Jack?”

Tess had a look of horror cross her face. “No! Not in the least. Actually I think I thought he was the opposite.” Tess noticed how attentive Maria was on the discussion, eating donuts and listening. She had refrained from talking to Maria about him because of the friendship between Michael and Max. It seemed unfair.

“Okay, so was that the appeal? He wasn’t Jack or remotely resembling Jack?”

“That he was the antithesis of Jack? No, not that either. It was something else. You know I was raised in the foster system, right?” Maria nodded. “Well my foster family took me in when I was young, and I spent my whole childhood with them. I was lucky. So many kids are moved around, but the Valdez’s didn’t seem to mind me at all, and it was fun being raised in a Latino family even though I was so obviously not. I think they didn’t adopt me because of my whiteness, like they didn’t want to steal my heritage, make me Mexican. And they cried at my wedding, saw me to my new home, and I still consider them my family, but I was always apart, different. It’s hard to explain. I felt their love, but a part of me was always something of a loner. I don’t know.”

“Like there was a history for you out there, missing and lost?”

“Something like that, or maybe a feeling like I had people, that I came from people I didn’t know. I’ve always felt like trying to find them, to find out what kind of person dumps a child in the middle of the desert and walks away. But I was afraid to know what they would be like, or who they would be.” Tess pushed her hair off her face. “Actually, I guess I was afraid of what it would make me.”

“And Max?”

Tess leaned back and smiled at Maria. “Yes, Max. I thought he was sexy and handsome. He was humorous and fun, much like Kyle, but there was more. From the moment I met him, and I mean really met him, not just dropping off coffee, I felt something. It felt like a tingle or maybe that feeling you get when you're in the house alone and it feels like someone is there watching you.”

Maria nodded. “The hair stands up on your neck.”

“Like that. That day Michael and Max stopped in to see Kyle in the hospital when he took the bullet in his shoulder, I felt something from both of them. A sense of awareness like a haunting familiarity, like I should know them, that we were the same.”

“Michael, too?”

“Yeah, but later when I was around Michael it was the same sense of knowing, but with Max it became more, much more. I felt like I knew him, or of him, and the feeling was electrical, more intense, sort of...” Tess struggled with a term to express it, “biblical.”

“Biblical?” Maria frowned and then suddenly her faced cleared. “Oh! Biblical!” Oh sure she knew that. She felt it almost every night with a pissy Detective. A roll in the bedsheets...getting all sweaty...begetting and begetting...wrath of holy thunder stuff. “So that means the sex was great. So what went wrong?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I went wrong, or maybe it was Max. It’s hard to say. Jack was a great man, so gentle, loving, and mischievous with a touch of passionate horndog. I didn’t suspect or need Max to be those things. It was like I had walked into a relationship with him expecting an entirely different person. And I don’t know why I expected him to be any of those things.”

“I don’t understand.”

Tess just laughed bitterly. “That’s okay, because neither do I, and Max definitely didn’t. I expected him to be harder, tougher, assertive to the point of demanding his orders be followed, and selfish.”

Maria looked shocked. “You wanted that?”

“I don’t know what I wanted, but it was what I was expecting. The sex was...okay it was great, highly charged. But there was too much gentleness, like I expected to see this huge burning fire in his eyes, almost bordering on violence, but that was missing. What broke the relationship or woke me up was one night when we went out to eat. The place was full, and we stood in the doorway looking in. Max kept asking me what I wanted to do, was it okay to wait, or should we go elsewhere... I didn’t care. He was irritating me to the point I wanted to scream! Hellooo? What do we do now, Max? He was so damn indecisive, and I wanted him to...no I expected him to be more assertive, go find us a seat, or demand a table immediately. It was like I was with the boy, hoping and wanting the man he’ll someday become. What if that never happens, Maria? What if I was looking at a dream and expecting to find it in him?”

“Poor Max!”

“I know. I had to break it off. It was unfair. I was wanting him to be the dream, or the illusion that was in my head, and I don’t think I ever saw him, not really.” Tess had more to tell, but that was all she could say, or wanted to say at that time. She needed to think, decide what to do.

“So you weren’t in love with him.”

Tess looked at the clock and got up to leave. She had class soon. “That’s the strange thing. I think I was, but I think I was in love with the man I expected him to be. The real Max is a stranger to me. I don’t even know him.”

Maria watched Tess leave and began to gather her stuff for class. She should have asked her about Kyle. It was so obvious that Kyle and Tess belonged together, but they avoided that type of entanglement altogether. Instead they were friends. The best of friends, much like they had been in High School. Maria wondered when they were going to wake up to the fact that 'just friends' or even 'good friends' didn’t get jealous over the other person dating someone else.