Cascade Virtual Tales
Production No. BPP-603
(10/30/00)

written by:
by

edited by:
JAC and Eagle Eye

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Once they got the bear delivered to the zoo veterinarians, the four men waited for word on the animal's injuries. Both Nikolai and Doug ended up in the treatment room, Nikolai to handle his bear, who didn't take kindly to the strangers working on his injured paws, and Doug, to translate. Once they were informed that the bear would be all right, but that it would take several hours to repair the damage to his front paws, Jim pulled out his phone and called their captain.

"Banks."

"Yeah, Captain, we got the bear to the zoo, it's gonna be several hours until they're through fixing up his paws. They said it was definitely a dog attack. We only noticed how badly his front paws were, but he has some nasty gashes on his butt and hind legs, too. I'm leaving Roberts here with Nikolai to help with Gregori, and Sandburg and I are on our way back. After we stop to replenish Jackson' supply of dog treats. We had to use them to get Gregori into the truck."

"Good. Dan came out and took a look at the body. He agreed with you. The claw marks were made with some sort of club. He says he'll have more to tell us after the post mortem. Did Cassie have anything to say about the scene?"

"Not really, only that she had a radio and would call when they were through. Haven't you heard from them, yet? It's been a couple of hours, I'd have thought that they were finished by now. There wasn't that much at the scene."

"Haven't heard a word. I'll send someone up to check on them. We're almost through here, although we still need a decent translator," he lowered his voice. "Remind me, next time, to tell Conner 'no' when she volunteers her 'abilities' as a 'translator', would you?"

"That bad, eh, Sir?" Jim chuckled.

"Worse. She said something that so offended these people that they've all gone into their trailers and locked themselves in. And we're still waiting on a 'real' translator." His sigh was easily audible through the phone, "Anyway, I'll wait for you and after you give Jackson back his car; we can wait around for the translator and maybe get some answers from these people."

"Do you want me to bring Doug and Nikolai back with us? They can at least communicate, and Gregori is going to be out for hours, while they work on him. It might help, in the long run, keep him focused on something else besides his bear."

There were several seconds of silence while his captain considered... finally, "Well, you can ask them. If he's willing to help; it could really save us all some time. Besides, he might be able to get the others to talk to us, since you helped him find and rescue his bear, and we could really use the help."

"I'll ask them. At any rate, we should be there within half an hour."

"Good deal, Jim. I'll see you when you get here. Now, to find out what's taking Wells so long..."

Jim chuckled dryly and disconnected his cell phone, slipping it into his pocket. Looking across the waiting room at the worried Russian and the patient patrolman, he sauntered over and made his request. Doug, understanding that it would serve both as help for the police and a distraction for the distraught bear trainer, translated, doing his best to convince the worried Nikolai to help them.

The little man nodded, understanding. He thought to himself about the request. Certainly the only thing that he could do here was worry about his Gregori. At least helping these men would serve to distract him and would go a long way towards repaying the debt he felt he owed them for their help with his pet; for despite Gregori's great size and strength, Nikolai knew in his heart what a gentle creature the bear was. Besides, he still felt that his bear was accused of murder, and he knew that the animal was innocent. He nodded and agreed to help them.

Jim passed the information of how to contact them to the receptionist and then led the way out to the vehicle to return to the fairgrounds.

Simon Banks was annoyed. He'd sent Cassie Wells with two of her technicians up to the area where his detectives had tracked the missing bear. She wasn't answering the radio and he was beginning to get concerned. Pulling out his cell phone, he tried again. No answer. Savagely punching the end button, he shoved the cell in his jacket pocket. Looking around, he spotted one of the other forensics technicians and headed over toward him.

"Have you heard from Wells?" he snapped. The man looked up at him in surprise. "No, not since she, Sam, and Charlie left with your people for that other site. She should be back by now, shouldn't she?"

"Yeah, she should," Simon muttered. Looking around, he caught the eye of the patrol sergeant and motioned her over. Taking her aside, he explained his dilemma. The sergeant nodded in understanding and used her radio to send one of the units up to check on the overdue forensics people.

As he listened to the various preliminary reports from the different groups, he started to put the events together. Even without talking to the circus people, it looked as though whoever it was who wanted to buy the circus was most likely behind the murder. The main question of 'why?' was one he was looking forward to discovering the answer to. He looked up, relieved to see Ellison and company returning. He couldn't stop the grin that blossomed into a full blown smile when he saw Jackson's dog's reaction to the smell of the bear in his truck. The dog was going nuts, practically vacuuming the four men before jumping in the back and searching for the bear. He waited patiently for them to join him.

"No one's heard from Cassie. One of the units is headed up to check on them. It's possible that they're out of radio or cell range..."

"I managed to call out, Simon," Blair reminded him. They exchanged worried glances, then refocused on their need to question the circus people about what they knew about their victim. While his detectives did their job, Simon returned to his car and retrieved Daryl, who was fuming. Simon was unrepentant, however. He wasn't at all sorry to have protected his son from the vision of the dead man. Now that the body had been removed, there was no more reason to keep his son from the scene. Of course, he was now saddled with his sullen, pouting child. He chose to ignore him, determining that that was his safest course.

Both Doug Roberts' and Nikolai's communications skills were tested to the max. With the bear trainer translating from Russian to Polish, and Doug translating from Polish to English, both men were struggling, uncertain of their abilities. The fact that Nikolai told his colleagues of the great help the policemen had given him in locating and getting help for his Gregori went a long way towards friendly relations. Even to the point where those who spoke English were willing to talk to the officers.

Jim, Blair, Doug, and Nikolai started their questioning with the circus owner, Alexia Korsekova. Her family had been in the circus business for ten generations. When asked about the man who wanted to buy her circus, she became agitated. According to the translators, and since it had to pass through an extra translation, there was no telling what was getting lost.

From what they were able to gather, the man attempting to buy them out was well known in the smaller circus circles as someone who would buy a circus, disband it, then sell the animals, either to collectors or, far more often, to hunting clubs, where the members would pay large sums to be able to hunt down and kill the semi-tame creatures. Most popular were the big cats, elephants, and bears. The Korsekova circus had three Siberian Tigers, four lions, two leopards, two elephants, and the bear, as well as a dozen horses, a dog act, and even a parrot act.

"Are the animals healthy?" Jim asked. Doug repeated the question and Nikolai didn't even bother to translate for Alexia. He simply insisted that they come with him and see the animals for themselves. Realizing that he had probably insulted them, Jim shrugged at his companions and followed. Along the way, they picked up half a dozen other members of the troup. Arriving at the animal compound, the first thing Jim noticed was the smell. Despite the large number of animals, the odors associated with them were minimal. Obviously, the handlers kept things clean.

The animal cages were twenty foot long cargo containers. The sides were canvas, so they could be lowered for protection from the weather. The sides were heavy plexiglass, with numerous four-inch holes cut in them for ventilation. There was even air conditioning and heating that would hook up to the power from the semi-truck that would haul them, and would run off of generators if needed. The weather was mild enough that the equipment wasn't even set up.

Blair approached the leopard cage. The comparitively small leopards stared back at him, indolently flicking their tails as they lounged in the deep layer of cedar shavings that lined their container. There was a large child's wading pool at one end, filled with sand, obviously intended as a giant cat-box, and a large bushel bucket filled with water.

"What do they eat?" Blair asked, as the black leopard shifted slightly to sniff them through one of the air holes.

Doug repeated the question, and Nikolai took them to a refrigerated truck nearby. Opening the doors, they could see several racks, some filled with wrapped packages of meat, and on the floor were more than a dozen bags of commercial cat food. Nikolai explained how the big cats were given dry cat food free choice during the night, and after the final performance of the day, were given a treat of fresh meat. Sometimes beef, sometimes horse, all depending on what they had on hand at the time.

Ms. Korsekova explained that their animals were the mainstay of their show, and that if they weren't well cared for, then the people would not make any money. The better their animals looked, the better they all did. Any animal act that didn't care for their animals properly would quickly find themselves out of a job. Of course, every animal act in the Korsekova Circus was led by one of Alexia's relatives; her uncle had the big cats, her daughter had the horses, her cousin, Nikolai, had the bear. Her sister had the dogs, and her brother the elephants. The other acts, the acrobats, trapeze and high wire artists, and some of the clowns, were hired. But they were still 'family' in the tradition of circus and carnivals for generations.

Alexia closed the container door and latched it, then turned to lead them back to the animals. She explained how each member of her troup helped care for the animals, whether they were involved with them during performances or not. This was a tightly knit community and they didn't like outsiders. They didn't trust the authorities, especially the police. However, they also knew that they were automatically considered untrustworthy and dishonest. She was certain that none of her people were involved with the murder of the stranger, but she didn't expect them to take her word for it, so she would tell everyone to answer their questions.

The double translation took a great deal of time, but everyone was being very patient. Returning to the animals' area, they were taken on a complete tour. The lions consisted of one obviously elderly male and his harem. When they looked, two of the females were grooming the male, while the third one slept. Her swollen belly giving every indication that she was close to giving birth.

"When is she due?" Blair asked, watching the big cats closely.

Doug eventually answered the question with "Soon. That's the best I can make out. They're sayin' stuff about gestation periods, I think, but 'soon' is close enough."

"Yeah, it is," Blair replied, grinning. "What about the tigers?"

They were led to the next cage, where the three tigers were kept. Again, there was only one male, with two very obviously pregnant females.

"What happens to the babies?" Jim asked. It seemed that there was another part of the circus that didn't travel. They were set up on a farm in Idaho, where there were few restrictions on the keeping of wild animals, although they had all the proper permits. There, the rest of the family cared for, raised, and trained the young beasts for their future lives in the circus.

Leading the questions back to the dead man and the man who wanted to buy them out, Jim pressed for more information. Eventually, he got a name of the erstwhile buyer, a phone number, and, finally, a business card. By the time the 'real' translator showed up, they had gotten pretty much everything available from the circus troupe.

They still ended up with more questions than answers. No one knew who the dead man was. Or at least if they did, they weren't talking. Everyone knew about the man who had been pestering them to sell, but he hadn't been around in several weeks, now. The crumpled business card identified the buyer, but it didn't really look promising.

The circus had been forced to cancel the first, but the two o'clock performance would go on as planned, although without Gregori's act. Since they were still there, Simon, Daryl, Jim, Blair, and Megan decided to stay and watch. Doug Roberts, who had worked the graveyard shift and taken the call just before end of shift, had finally gotten off, only to return to see the show, himself. Jim spotted him, sitting with Nikolai, across from them. He grinned and pointed him out to his companions.

Daryl was still sullen and fuming. Simon had given up on trying to explain his actions and was sitting angrily next to his son, arms crossed and obviously upset. Megan had tried a couple of times to intervene, only to be rebuffed by both Banks'. After the second try, she gave up, moving to the opposite end of the row to escape the frosty atmosphere. Jim nudged his partner and gestured for him to do something, anything, to ease the impasse. Sighing, Blair tapped Daryl on the shoulder.

"Daryl?"

"What?"

"If I tell you something, will you believe me?"

Daryl, taken by surprise, turned to the smaller man and blinked, his brow furrowing down in a frown. "Sure. You know I believe you, don't you?"

"Just checking. What I wanted to tell you was, this was one of those times I wished I was still an observer. I'd have loved to have been told to 'stay in the car, Sandburg,' but that's not going to happen any more. Even though there are times Jim wants to say it, and that I don't want to do things, it's my job, now, and I can't avoid certain things."

"What things?" Daryl asked, disarmed and intrigued by his friend's words and tone.

"Well, I really could have done without seeing the dead guy. He was really messed up, man. I'll admit that I'm getting better, but I still had to fight the urge to hurl when I saw him." He glanced past the young man to Simon, whose body language had relaxed just a bit as he listened to them. "In fact, even your dad had a hard time with it. I could tell. He gets this weird shade of purple, and his face gets all pinched, and he took off his glasses so he couldn't see as well. Trust me, man, this was really messy. You were much better off staying in the car and getting bored."

"Yeah, but man you guys left me there forever," the whine crept back into his voice.

"Daryl, you were there for less than two hours. Just until the body was removed. I'm not going to say that it was for your own good. In fact, if you'd gone with us, you'd most likely have contaminated the scene, making everyone's job harder."

"What do you mean? I know how to stay out of the way, man! And I wouldn't have contaminated anything..."

"Daryl," his father interrupted the burgeoning tirade, "I almost threw up. And that would have contaminated the scene," he said softly. "It was bad, son. You really didn't need to see that. I wish you'd just believe me, but I can't force you to." Simon looked across the tent at the opening where the circus people were preparing to enter and start the show. He really hoped this was worth it, but he had his doubts.

"He's right, Daryl," Jim added from the other side of Sandburg. "To be perfectly honest, I'm wishing we'd never heard of this circus. I could have slept in and not even heard anything about it until Monday morning when I got to work, someone else would have caught it instead of me and I wouldn't be wondering what kind of person would commit a crime like this. It's messy and unreasonable and I don't like it. It doesn't make any sense to me. Eventually, with any luck, it will and we'll solve this thing, but until we do, I'm going to wonder and wish someone else had to deal with it."

Such an admission from 'Supercop' Ellison left Daryl speechless. He stared at the stoic mask of the detective and, much to his surprise, saw the cracks in the facade and had to wonder.

"But if we hadn't been here, we wouldn't have found Gregori and he'd have been blamed for killing that man, and if he'd died, no one would have thought to look any farther for the correct answer. If we'd had to use the canine unit to track the bear, someone could have gotten hurt, and Gregori would most likely have been killed. This way, we already know that he's innocent, and he's alive and will most likely be all right, eventually. He'll probably always be terrified of dogs, but that's nothing compared with being dead."

"Blair? Do you ever take a breath?" Daryl asked in amazement at the man's ability to talk so long on what seemed to be a single breath.

"He breathes through his ears, Daryl," Jim quipped with a smile as one hand patted his partner's arm to indicate no animosity.

"Hey, I was a teacher, remember?" Blair grinned, swatting Daryl's shoulder in mock annoyance.

"Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot," Daryl deadpanned back and failed to duck the quick swat to the back of his head from Jim. "OW! Hey, what was that for?"

"Don't dis my partner," Jim growled menacingly... only to have his credibility blown away by Blair's laughter.

"Come on, guys, the show's starting..."

Despite the missing bear act, it was, surprisingly, an excellent show. The big cats were appropriately menacing when the leopards, true to their reputations for being sneaky and untrustworthy, tried to sneak up on their trainer, only to have him turn back just before the spotted one leaped for him. The audience was duly impressed, as the leopards took turns leaping through a burning hoop, followed by the tigers. The lions seemed overly laid-back, yawning their boredom. The act ended with all nine big cats laying side-by-side, with their trainer sprawled across their backs. Even though it was obvious that the different species didn't really like each other, they still accepted one another because of their trainer's insistence.

The acrobats were just as exciting, as were the high-wire and trapeze artists. The elephants were amusing and the dog act was hilarious. Particularly when the smallest 'dog' turned out to be a cat in a costume.

The clown act was the best any of them had ever seen. There were two men dressed up in a horse costume, pretending to be a trained pony act. The men were wearing baggy brown pants, with a blanket-like covering, and the fake 'horsehead'. The 'horse' would count (incorrectly) to ten. Would 'rear' up and wave to the audience, and 'gallop' around the ring, pretending to run away. The highlight was when one of the clowns got tired of the 'horse's' antics and brought out a huge blunderbus and shot the 'animal'. The audience was hysterical with laughter. When the 'horse' got up, all the clowns lined up to take their bows. One of the clowns grabbed the 'horse head' and pulled the costume off. To reveal a real pony under the costume, which made the act all the more remarkable, as the entire audience had been fooled into thinking that the 'pony' was really two men in a horse suit.

Filing out after the show, Blair, Daryl, and Megan were in front, chattering about the different acts, leaving the 'grown-ups' to bring up the rear. Simon pulled out a cigar as soon as they got outside, pausing for a moment to light up. Jim was careful to stay upwind of his friend, but waited patiently for him.

"So, Jim. What did you think of it?"

"I'm probably not the right person to ask, Simon. This is the first circus I've ever been to," Jim replied quietly, gazing after their companions.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, sir. This is the first circus I've ever been to."

Simon stared but, seeing the tightness around his friend's eyes, refrained from saying anything, simply patting the shorter man on the shoulder, sympathetically. "Well, I'm happy to say that was one of the best circuses I've ever seen. That pony act -- that was great."

Jim grinned. "Yeah, I liked that part, especially the way everyone gasped when it was revealed to be a real pony."

"It was good when I thought it was a couple of guys in a horse suit, but to have it turn out to be a real pony, that was definitely the highlight, for me."

"I liked the cat in the dog suit, myself," Jim murmured.

Simon laughed, "Yeah, that was good, too. Frankly, I liked the whole show. I'd have liked to see what the bear does, but obviously, that's out of the question."

"Yeah. Do we have the itinerary for them? Where are they supposed to go, next?"

"It's in the car. Why? Looking for something in particular?"

"No, just curious. I think I'd like to take a look at the other places they've visited, see if there are any trends. Just covering all the bases."

"Jim, despite what you may think, this is supposed to be your day off, relax. It will all be waiting for you on Monday."

"Yeah, but what if there are other connected crimes? I don't know. I just have a feeling..."

Simon stared hard at his companion, then started walking after the rest of their group, nodding. "I'm not going to tell you not to do anything, you do what you need to. Just keep me informed, all right?"

"Yes, sir. Oh, what was wrong with Cassie?"

Simon's expression turned grim. "I don't know. We sent a patrol car up to check on them, but there was no one at the site," he shook his head, annoyed, "Her van is gone from the parking lot, though, so I rather suspect she's off doing her usual 'investigation'."

"I hope so. I'm a bit concerned about those dogs. Was the dog still there?"

"No, I figured that she came back, got her van, drove up there, picked up her people and the dog and went back to the lab, or wherever she felt she needed to go."

"She should have called in, left a message, or something."

"Yeah, she should have. And she's going to hear from me about it, formally."

"I'll leave that in your more than capable hands, Sir." Jim grinned.

"Come on. Let's catch up to the children. And go get something to eat! We missed both breakfast and lunch, and I'm starving!"

With all the excitement, they had all forgotten about eating. Now that it was late afternoon, the five starving people headed back to town, stopping at a Denny's along the way. They limited their conversation to the circus performance, leaving the case alone for the time-being. The pony/clown act was the basis for most of their discussion, as they tried to decide how the animal could have been trained so well that everyone was fooled. Naturally, they were unable to come to any conclusions, but it was an innocuous topic and one they could all equally participate in.

Finally, their hunger assuaged and lingering over dessert and coffee, the conversation turned to the case. Jim expressed his misgivings that the man trying to buy the circus was involved. Even though he had found a silver button matching description given by the circus people, he didn't feel that the man was involved with their victim. There was something else at work here, all his instincts were screaming that he was missing something, but he had no idea what it might be.

Megan cocked her head, thinking. "You don't suppose that the buyer and the murder are a coincidence, do you?"

"Well, unless one of his other 'clients' wanted the bear for a hunt, and for added excitement decided to just steal him and hunt him from the circus... no. I can't buy that. There's something else at work, here. I just don't know what it is."

"Stop trying to force it, Jim," Blair soothed. "Try and relax, that's when it will come to you."

Sighing, Jim pushed his empty pie plate away, "Yeah, you're probably right. There's just something..." he grimaced and shook his head. "So, are we ready to go?"

Simon snagged the check before Jim could reach for it, and slid from the booth. "Yeah, I've got it, Jim. I'll meet you at the car." Before he could get his wallet out, Blair had pulled his and left money for the tip, then nudged his partner to get out so the rest of them could get up.

The trip home was quiet. Daryl was dozing, and the others were busy mulling over the case. Stopping in front of the loft, Simon softly said, "Unless you think of anything important, I don't want you going in tomorrow, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jim replied, Blair mumbling his own assent. Simon watched until he was sure the two men were inside their building before taking off to drop Megan at her apartment before going home, himself.

They were quiet, neither one having much to say. Both men were withdrawn into themselves, sorting through the information, trying to come up with some sort of basis for an hypothesis. Blair turned on the evening news. The murder was mentioned, but there wasn't much real information. Not even the idea that the man had been killed by an animal. That was good, actually. It wouldn't hurt the circus and the missing bear act wouldn't be noticed, hopefully. There was a later story, however, that drew Jim's attention. It was a story about a nearby county, where ranchers were having problems with animal mutilations. As he listened, something clicked in his mind and he was quickly reaching for the phone and dialing. Blair watched him with interest.

"Yeah, I need the number for the Sheriff's office, uh, Whatcom County, the city of Diablo. Thanks." He fumbled for something to write on, only to have Blair shove a pen in his hand and lay a pad of paper in front of him. Smiling his thanks, Jim wrote down the number.

"What's in Diablo?" Blair asked.

Jim jerked his head toward the television. "Those livestock mutilations. That's what this case reminds me of. I just want to ask them a couple of questions... Yeah, who is this? Deputy Wickham? Yeah, my name's Jim Ellison, I'm a detective with the Cascade PD... yeah. You have? Really? Oh, well the reason I called was that I just saw the news report on your problem and was wondering a couple of things. Maybe you can answer my questions?" he grimaced at Blair as he listened. "Uh huh. You do, huh? OK, well, if you could have someone call me Monday morning? I'm sure you'd prefer looking up the number for yourself... yeah, thanks." He set the receiver in the charger with just a bit more force than absolutely necessary.

"He didn't believe you?" Blair asked blandly.

"She said she has to check with the chief deputy and the sheriff himself before giving out any information."

"She knew who you were, though." Blair asked, tilting his head to the side, grinning.

"Well, sort of. She'd heard of me, but I doubt if she believed me. Probably thought I was some kind of reporter, looking for an angle." He grinned, "She's going to have her boss call me at the station Monday morning..."

"Don't be too hard on her, man. You can't ever tell when you might need a friend someplace."

Jim's grin widened, "Well, right now I need information, not friends. Although, she had a nice enough voice."

"And you call me a table leg?" Blair laughed, tossing a pillow at his friend. Jim laughed too, returning the pillow, right in Blair's face. Blair snatched up all the pillows on the couch and started throwing them at his roommate, who threw them right back, until both men ran out of breath from laughter.

"OK, OK, man. Enough. You're still the biggest, baddest man in the loft," Blair finally gasped out.

Jim bounced one last pillow off Blair's head and growled, "And don't you forget it."

Monday morning found them stopping off down in the basement at the morgue to see if Dan Wolf had managed to get anything yet. They knew that the odds were against them. After all, Dan had weekends off, too, but Jim was anxious and wanted some specific questions answered.

Stepping into the outer office, they caught Dan just as he sat down with a fresh cup of coffee. He looked up at them and grinned. "Right on time. Help yourselves," he gestured towards the coffee maker. "I suppose you want the results on your John Doe?"

"If you have anything, yet. Have you even started?" Jim replied with a chagrined smile of his own.

"Got started about an hour ago. Got a little information, but not much, yet. I'm soaking the fingers so I can try and get some prints," seeing Blair turn green, he quickly added, "They're still attached. I do have some things to show you that might be of interest, if you like?"

"I'd like," Jim replied. Blair took a heavy swallow of his coffee and nodded his assent. Dan raised his eyebrows in surprise, but opened a drawer in his desk and removed an object, tossing it to the surprised Sandburg.

"What's this?" Blair asked in confusion as he stared at the small cobalt blue jar. "Vick's Vapo Rub?" He raised his puzzled face to look at the coroner.

"Yeah, something I learned at that seminar I went to last month in Hawaii. You dab a little on your upper lip, then, all you can smell is the Vick's, not anything in there," he waved a hand toward the exam room. "Give it a try. I tried it last week with that floater, worked like a charm."

Blair glanced at the two men, wondering if they were pulling his leg, but seeing only sincerity on their countenances, he shrugged and opened the jar, scooped out a bit and dabbed it on his lip, immediately grimacing at the overpowering odor of menthol. "Oh, man. I guess so. Whew! This stuff is strong!"

"Yeah, but if it works, that's all I care about," Dan said as he rose and led the way into the exam room.

The John Doe was laid out on the table, most of the body covered by a sheet. The arms were extended out to the sides, propped up on small, rolling tray-tables, the hands wrapped in special wrappings and soaking in some sort of liquid solution. Seeing the curiosity on their faces, Dan explained.

"I'm soaking the hands to soften the skin so I can pull the fingertips back together and try and get some prints. Some of the fingers are pretty badly chewed, but I'm hoping to salvage at least the thumbs and index fingers, so that maybe we can get an ID on him. I already checked with missing persons, and he doesn't fit any of their descriptions."

"Thanks, Dan. You said you had something interesting to show us?" Jim asked.

"Yeah. Here, let me show you." He pulled the sheet from the corpse and started to fold it. Blair took a sharp breath and held it for a moment, then let it go, softly. His jaw was clenched, but so far, there was nothing to alarm him, except the naked dead man covered with savage bite and claw marks.

"I don't know if you noticed, but there wasn't much blood at the scene?" Dan began. Both detectives nodded in agreement, even though neither had particularly noticed it at the scene. "Well, that was my first intimation that the man wasn't killed there. He was found laying on his left side, right?" again, the nods of agreement. "Well, according to the lividity, he was killed and placed on his right side for some time. Notice the slight discoloration on the right side? That's the lividity. As a body lies after death, the remaining blood pools to the lowest portion of the anatomy. Once it does, it stays there. I suspect that he was placed in the trunk of a car and transported to the scene."

"That's why it was so clean. What disturbance was on the ground wasn't from a struggle, but simply from getting the body properly placed," Jim agreed. "What else do you have for us?"

"Well, the claw marks. I took a good look at them, and while at first glance they look very much like a normal bear swipe, if you look closely, you'll see that not only are the angles wrong, see here? Where the blow came up from below? Like someone swinging a bat, or a tennis racket? That angle couldn't have come from a bear. Bears generally strike down and across, like this." He stepped back from the body and demonstrated, raising his hands to shoulder level and reaching out to strike, perfectly mimicking the normal way a bear will strike when standing. "And if the bear were on all fours, he'd only take out the legs, not the torso. A bear in attack mode will almost always stand on its hind legs. This was some sort of club, specifically designed to make us think that a bear did this. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that the claws are actually from a bear, but this was done by one or more people, and from the angles... I can't tell you whether it's a woman or a man. Sorry."

"But it could be either?" Blair asked. "Do you have any guess on size of the assailant?"

Dan looked at the younger detective, a bit sadly, as he noticed how the cop vernacular was taking firmer hold in his vocabulary. "Five foot six to six foot tall. Don't forget, there could be more than one of them."

"What about the bites?"

"Well, I was hoping that Cassie had gotten back with the dead dog I heard you found, but she hasn't, yet. I'm wondering where she put the animal. It's gotta be starting to smell, by now. However, the marks are definitely in line with a large dog, like a Rottweiler. Definitely a short- muzzled dog, Rottweiler, Mastiff, St. Bernard, something like that. I'll get started on the rest of the autopsy in a while. Would one of you be willing to give me a hand with trying to get the fingerprints? The rest of my crew don't come in until eight-thirty, and I'm sure you'd like to get an ID as soon as possible?"

"Sure, I'll help, Dan," Jim agreed. "Chief, why don't you go and see if anyone's heard from Cassie, Sam, or Charlie, would you? It's not like any of them to just disappear, and all three? Not a chance."

"I'm on it," Blair immediately replied, grateful for the excuse to leave before they started to do anything more serious with the corpse. He turned and headed out to seek information on the missing forensics people.

When they got back together, up in the Major Crime Bullpen, Blair was looking worried, and Jim was on the phone. Sitting down at his desk, beside his partner, Blair checked out his notes. Hearing the tone of annoyance in Jim's voice, he turned his attention to his partner and the phone conversation.

"Yes, Deputy. I do understand why you don't want certain things to come out about your case. I have no intention of telling anyone the specifics. How about I ask you questions, and you let me know if it sounds anything like your case?" Seeing Blair's concerned gaze on him, he rolled his eyes, indicating his disgust with trying to deal with the small town Sheriff's Deputy. "Oh, that's okay? Good. Did the animals look like, at first, that a bear might have attacked them? They did? Okay. Now, were the animals also savaged by dogs? They were? Rottweilers, maybe? Yes? Good. No, I haven't been anywhere near your town in the past year. I just happen to have a dead man who fits the same M.O. That's right. A person. No, no organs were taken, but then, they were there to try and take the bear, not perform some kind of ritual sacrifice... oh, some of them were? Why aren't I surprised? Look, talk to the Sheriff and see if he's willing to send me a copy of the reports, will you? Why? Because the M.O. matches, and your animal mutilations have taken on a new aspect. What? Oh, murder. Our dead body was human... Right. You do that. Thank you for your time, Deputy Wickham." He slammed the phone down into the cradle. "Stupid..." He shifted back in his chair and raised his arms over his head in a stress relieving stretch. "So, What'd you find, Chief?"

"No one's seen Cassie or the others since you dropped them off at the scene."

"What do you mean, no one's seen them?" Simon Banks shouted at his two detectives, "Who was the last one to see or talk to them?"

"That would be us, Sir. I took them up to where we found the bear, picked up Sandburg and left to take the bear to the vet's. No one has seen or heard from them since. The patrol that was sent up to look for them didn't see anything. And, since Cassie's van was missing, we all assumed that she had gone back for it to transport the dog. We're going to go back up there, Sir and do a search of our own." Jim was standing at 'parade rest'; he was feeling guilty over their missing the boat on this one, just as much, if not more, than Simon was.

"Good idea. You make sure you keep in touch, you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir. We'll call in when we arrive at the scene, and let you know what we find."

"Good. Dismissed." Jim and Blair turned on their heels and left.

"This is where we picked up Gregori, right?" Blair asked as they drove slowly up the road they'd been on just two days earlier.

"Yeah. And the rock outcropping is just up ahead, there," Jim replied as he pulled over and parked. Both men got cautiously out of the truck.

"Do you see any sign of the patrol car having come this far?"

"No. They turned around about a hundred yards back. You can see where they crushed the brush beside the road."

"Ouch. I'm sure glad I'm not one of them, when Simon gets through with them."

"Yeah, and that will be after their sergeant, lieutenant, and captain get through with them."

"Triple ouch."

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Any sign of Cassie's van?"

"No. But there are some tire tracks, from something small, a compact, see there?" Jim pointed to some tire tracks faintly visible on the shoulder.

"How about footprints?"

Jim looked around, "No. Nothing. C'mon, let's go." He led the way down the slope to the rock outcropping where they had found the injured bear.

Silence. Not one, single, sound. No breeze, no insects, no birds. Something was very wrong, here, and both men felt it. Jim led them in a wide circle, hoping for some kind of sign, but fearing what they might find. Finally, they approached the cave. Looking in first, Jim grunted "Call for an ambulance!" and rushed inside. There, tied up in the rear of the cave, were their missing forensics people. Two of them with wide, staring, terrified eyes focused on him, the third... eyes closed, pale... and not breathing. All three showed the obvious signs of having been attacked by dogs. Pausing only a moment to determine that the one victim was dead and not just unconscious, Jim realized that they had been trapped there for nearly two days, with no food, no water, and, in the case of the late Cassie Wells, no medication...

Turning from the body, Jim hastily worked at the ropes, trying to untie them. He was interrupted when Blair tapped his shoulder and offered his open pocket knife. Jim nodded and started sawing at the ropes holding the two remaining victims. Blair gently removed the duct tape gags from their mouths.

"Oh, Blair!" Sam cried, flinging herself past Jim and into the younger man's arms, sobbing. "It was terrible! They...they..." she was at a loss for words and simply dissolved into tears, clinging tightly to Blair's jacket.

"Get her out of here, Chief. I'll take care of Charlie," Jim said as he continued working on the other survivor's bonds.

"Right, Jim. Come on, Sam. Let's get you out of here, okay?" Blair gently guided the hysterical woman out of the cave and into the fresh air.

Jim had to help Charlie to stand. "Can you tell me what happened?" Charlie tried to speak, but his throat was too dry to get any words out. "Take it easy. I've got some water up in the truck." Jim guided the tech out of the cave and got him fairly comfortably seated on a nearby rock. "I'll be right back, Chief. I'm going up to the truck to get the first aid kit, some water, and blankets."

"You need any help?" Blair called hopefully, still trying to calm the hysterical Sam.

"I've got it. Did you make the call?"

"Yep, I called Simon, he's sending paramedics, an ambulance, and Dan... She's really dead, isn't she?"

"Yeah. My guess is she had one of those asthma attacks and, since she couldn't get her medicine, she, well..."

"Yeah. That sucks, man."

Even though he hadn't particularly cared for Cassie, he hadn't wanted her dead, "Yeah, it does," Jim agreed, turning to continue his trip to the truck for the supplies.

Once Jim had returned with the first aid kit, water, and blankets, Charlie was able to tell them what had happened. Sam remained hysterical, clinging tightly to Blair, which made tending her wounds much more difficult.

"We were looking at the dead dog, when, from out of nowhere, there were these three huge Rottweilers. I guess Cassie was armed, because she suddenly had this gun in her hand, but before she could shoot, one of the dogs grabbed her wrist and she dropped it. Then they just started biting, no noise, no barking, no growling, nothing. Just biting. I ended up in the back corner, pressed against the rocks, when the dogs suddenly stopped. I saw them. There were two of them, a man and a woman. They never said a word, just tied us up, went through our pockets, checked our ID, took something from Cassie's purse, picked up the dead dog and left. It was so weird, they never said a single word. Not one." Having gotten that much out, Charlie fell silent, shivering and in shock.

"Can you identify them if you see them again?" Jim asked softly.

"I'll never forget them. I've never seen anything so... so evil in my life. I got the feeling that they were going to come back for us. And that when they did, it was going to be even worse, what they did to us."

"Thanks, Charlie. I'll have a sketch artist come to the hospital so you can give him a description, okay?"

"Sure, detective. That'll be fine. Poor Cassie. After they left us, she had an asthma attack. There was nothing any of us could do. She-she died about an hour after they left us. Poor Sam, with Cassie leaning up against her all this time, I'm not at all surprised she's hysterical. I'm feeling a bit hysterical, myself."

"It's all right, Charlie. There was nothing you could do." The look Jim gave Blair told volumes of what he had in mind for the two patrolmen who had shirked their duty. Cassie might still be alive and their suspects in custody already, if they had done their job properly. Jim stood up, hearing the approaching sirens, and went up to direct the rescue efforts.

"Boy, he wasn't kidding about evil looking," Blair muttered as he looked over Jim's elbow at the two drawings the artist had just given them. Simon looked over Jim's other shoulder.

"Why do they look familiar?" he asked, his brow furrowed down in a scowl.

"Because they were on the news last week. Inviting people to come join them for Halloween. They're self-proclaimed Satanists and planning some big to-do for Halloween. But that's not for a couple more weeks, isn't it?"

"Yeah, first we get Friday the thirteenth... Jim?" There was something in Blair's voice that immediately brought both older men's attention to him.

"What is it, Blair?" Jim asked.

"Friday the thirteenth, there's a full moon on Friday the thirteenth. It's not a particularly important thing, but with all the media hype and movies about it, well... if I were some sort of self-styled satanist, well, I'd sure be tempted to do something."

"It's only Monday, Sandburg. If we hadn't found them, they'd have all died by then, from thirst, if nothing else," Simon said, dismissively.

"What if they plan on coming back, say, tonight or tomorrow? The police presence would be gone by then, and the circus is leaving this afternoon." Jim mused.

"You want to stake out the rocks?" Simon's voice rose in amazement.

"Yeah, I think I do, Sir. What do we have to lose?"

Simon stared at the partners, seeing nearly identical expressions of determination on their faces. He sighed and nodded.

"All right. Who do you want to join you on this little jaunt?"

"Well, Brown and Rafe are in court all week, and Joel and Megan are catching the rest of the cases from over the weekend. Maybe we can draw some help from patrol?" Jim replied.

"I think Doug Roberts would like to help. After all, he was there at the beginning. I know that I'd want to know," Blair suggested.

"All right. I'll see about pulling a couple of folks from patrol. What about the dogs? You won't hear them coming... well, most people won't be able to tell they're coming. How about getting a canine unit up there, as well?"

"Sounds good, Sir," Jim agreed. "If someone can make the calls to get it together, I'd like to gather some supplies that may help us with the dogs."

"I can make the calls, unless you need me, Jim?"

"That'll be fine, Chief. Providing our illustrious captain, here, will pave the way through the higher-ups?"

"Yeah, I'll make the calls. C'mon, Sandburg, let's get this over with. You really think they'll be coming back?"

"Sure, Simon. I mean, why not? They wouldn't have had any way of knowing about Cassie's asthma, and it was fairly warm last night, and the cave is good shelter. In fact..." Jim tuned out their voices as they headed for Simon's office and he headed for the door, needing to hit a grocery store before they headed back up to set up their stakeout.

There were six of them, counting the dog. Jim, Blair, Doug Roberts, John Jackson and his dog, Astro, and Don Kimbrough, another patrolman Roberts had suggested. The two patrolmen who had shirked their duty on Saturday were on suspension, pending a full investigation and possible charges of involuntary manslaughter. The DA's office was very interested in pursuing this particular case, particularly when they heard who the two patrolmen were, both had numerous complaints of excessive force and even other members of patrol didn't much care for them. The case against them was bolstered by the fact that Charlie had heard their car, but had been too far away, even if he hadn't been gagged.

Jim and Blair were hiding in the cave, waiting for their suspects. They were in radio contact with the others, Jackson was set up on the road with Astro, Roberts was atop the outcropping, and Kimbrough was with their vehicles, hidden down the road. All were in radio contact, via headphones and voice activated microphones.

"So, what was it that you needed to get that will protect us from the dogs?" Blair asked.

Jim grinned and pulled a brown bag from his coat pocket. Reaching inside, he pulled out two eight ounce tins of finely ground black pepper. Opening one, he started sprinkling it around the outside of the cave, starting about six feet from the opening. He was quite liberal with his use, even though it made both men sneeze.

"This is why Jackson and Astro are up on the road. I don't want Astro to get any of this in his nose. I'm hoping it will mask our scents, screw up the Rottweiler's senses, and give us the opportunity to get the drop on our suspects."

Jackson' voice came over their headsets, "Astro and I thank you."

"Hey, you're on our side, man," Blair replied and grinned. "Yeah, that might work, providing neither of us give it away by sneezing our heads off."

"That's why we're here so early. Get the stuff on the ground, so it can settle." He finished emptying the first can and started on the second one from just inside the cave mouth to the line where he'd run out with the first can.

Finished, they settled down inside the cave to wait. The early evening passed quietly, the sunset invisible to them through the trees. They kept their communications to a minimum, checking with one another once an hour. It was a very boring stakeout.

Along about one a.m., their patience was finally rewarded. "Heads up," Kimbrough announced from his spot with their vehicles. "A big van just passed me."

"Roger that." Jim replied, rising to his feet and pulling his partner up beside him.

Five minutes later, Jackson announced, "It's Cassie's van. They've parked and are getting out. There's two of them. They've got the dogs in the back, but are leaving them there. A man and a woman, on their way towards you."

"Got it. Doug? You ready?"

"I was born ready, man. Bring 'em on," came the soft reply.

With the dogs locked in the van, they didn't expect much trouble apprehending their suspects. Unfortunately, the pair were each carrying a large battery powered spotlight. Seeing the reflection of the bright lights headed their way, Blair hissed a warning to Jim just before the lights were focused through the mouth of the cave. Seeing two strange men, rather than the two women and one man they'd left tied up there, there was a moment of colorful cursing before the pair turned to run.

"CASCADE PD!" Roberts shouted from above. The pair looked up, startled, giving Jim and Blair time to recover and exit the cave, grabbing the pair and spinning them around and against the rocks.

"Feet back and spread 'em," Jim growled to the man, trusting his partner to take care of the smaller woman. He had the man's right wrist in a come-along hold and pinned him to the rocks, forcing him to maintain his balance with only one hand on the stones. Kicking the man's feet back and apart, he finally let go, allowing the man both hands to lean on.

Blair didn't have an easy time of it. The woman started fighting, trying to escape. Blair, still suffering from an upbringing that didn't include hitting girls, finally had enough and caught one of her wrists as she attempted to claw his eyes out. Squeezing and applying pressure, he forced her to her knees, her snarls of rage turning to cries of pain. Using his hold, he forced her face down on the ground and pulled both of her hands behind her back and cuffed her. Now that she was restrained, he took his time to look over at Jim, who was cuffing the other suspect.

Now that the suspects were under control, Roberts climbed down from his perch atop the boulders. Seeing the marks on Sandburg, he grinned, "Nice work, man." Blair looked up at him and grinned back.

"Hey, whatever it takes." He pulled the woman up and frisked her quickly and efficiently, relieving her of a petite little pistol. "It's... pink?" Blair said, shocked. "Jim? She has a pink gun.

Jim glanced over and grunted, holding out his prisoner's weapon, a nice, large, Glock. Handing the weapon to Roberts to tag, he smiled. "Pink, huh?" He saw the scratches on Blair's face, "Too bad she doesn't have the manners of a lady to go with the gun. You okay?"

"Yeah, just a couple scratches."

Jim nodded and spoke into his microphone, "Kimbrough? We could use transport. Jackson? Can you secure the van and the dogs? If not, give Animal Control a call. We're coming up, now."

With Roberts assistance, they escorted their prisoners up to the road. Once there, with all of them together, he recited the Miranda to the pair. When he asked them if they understood, the man finally spoke.

"You have nothing on us. You've made a very serious mistake, you know."

"Do you understand your rights as I've explained them to you?"

"Yes, yes. Of course," the man said, the woman only nodded.

"Do you give up your right to remain silent?" Jim asked.

"I've done nothing wrong," the man insisted.

"The three people you left tied up in that cave?" Blair asked, the man turned his piercing black eyes on him and inclined his head for him to continue. "One of them was an asthmatic. She died. Since it was in the course of a felony, kidnapping, the charges have been bumped up to murder." The man showed no reaction, but the woman stiffened. "Of course, we're also going to charge you with the murder of the man found at the circus."

"The bear killed him," the woman hissed.

Jim turned his attention to her, his glare causing her to flinch back. "The bear didn't do anything but run from your dogs. The 'claw' marks on the victim were made with a club, and the bites were made by your dogs. Now that we have the dogs, I'm sure our coroner can match the bite-marks." His grin was grim, "Now, I hate repeating myself, but do you give up your right to remain silent?" Looking at each other, the pair clamped their mouths shut and shook their heads.

Roberts and Kimbrough placed the prisoners in the back of their patrol car and began the drive back to the station and booking. Jackson had been unable to do anything with the dogs, and would remain with the van until animal control arrived. Jim and Blair hiked back to the vehicles and Jim followed as Blair took Jackson's SUV up to him.

As they drove back to the station, Blair was fuming. "We still don't have any idea why they did this. Do you really think they had anything to do with those mutilations in Diablo?"

"Did you notice their ID?" Jim replied.

"Uh, no. I didn't look beyond their names, why?"

"They live in Diablo. They have a little cult compound there. A couple dozen followers. I guess they just decided to go from animals to humans. I'm curious as to who our John Doe is, though."

"Yeah. You don't suppose they brought him all the way from Diablo to here, do you?"

"The circus was in Diablo three weeks ago. Come to think of it, that's the last time that 'buyer' contacted the circus," Jim mused.

When they arrived at the station, they immediately went down to booking to see how it was progressing. The woman had screamed about not wanting her picture taken, but to no avail. Of the two, she certainly seemed the one most likely to break. The pair were separated and placed in different interrogation rooms and left there with no contact. They could have just as well left them down in different jail cells, but didn't really want them in with the general population. Instead, they were being closely watched. The man, according to his ID, and the news report that had been aired the previous week, was Sam Haidi, a name that caused Blair to snort, trying to refrain from laughing.

"What?" Jim asked.

"Sam Haidi? I wonder what his original name was?"

"Why?" Jim's brows furrowed down in confusion.

"In Vodun, or Voodoo, Baron Samadi is like the guy who makes the zombies."

"What's a bartender have to do with this?"

"No, jerk." Blair slapped his grinning partner's arm, "He's like Death, or something. And it's the undead kind of zombies, not the drink."

Jim chuckled, "I actually knew that, I was just trying to place it. What about her name?"

"Mary Levau? Ripoff on Marie LaBeau, a so-called witch from the late 1800s. Fakes, if you ask me. Not very clever ones, either. Do we have anything else on them, yet?"

"Nah. We've faxed their prints to NCIC and Interpol, but it's too soon to tell. So, should we question them now, or wait until after we've gotten some sleep? Simon should be in in a couple of hours. We can probably sack out in his office until then."

"Good idea, man. I'm really wiped."

"How're the scratches? Did you get someone to look at them?"

"Yeah, they're okay. Should we leave them there? I mean, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine. We aren't interrogating them. We're just waiting for their lawyer, anyway. He's got to come all the way from Diablo, so it's going to be a while, yet." With one last look in on their two prisoners, they headed upstairs to try and catch an hour or so of sleep before they had to start again.

When Captain Banks arrived, he was handed the report on the results of the stakeout. With a pleased smile, he headed for his office, only to be stopped by a line of detectives, barring his way. Raising an eyebrow in question, he drew himself up to his full, most imposing height. Joel just grinned at him.

"They're in your office, sacked out. Jim's got the couch, and Blair's in your chair. Knowing that they've only been there for about two hours, after a full day yesterday and followed by that stakeout, we figured you can forgo your office for a while longer."

Simon looked at his people and sighed. "You mean I don't even get a decent cup of coffee?"

"Of course, you do, Captain," Megan grinned, producing a Starbucks container. "We wouldn't want you to suffer withdrawal, now, would we?"

Simon smirked, taking the offering. "Not if you're smart." He looked around. "So, anything on our suspects?"

"Oh, yeah," Brown muttered. "NCIC had them, and the FBI has called, asking if we think we can actually convict them. Seems they've been doing the cult thing for quite a while. This is the first time, however, that anyone's actually managed to connect them to anything concrete. They've offered all their facilities to us to make sure we can win the case. I told them that we'd be in touch."

"I had a call from the town of Diablo," Rafe reported. "A Deputy Wickham called. Seems she had our suspects' lawyer pay a visit late last night. She is not very happy, and would like Jim to give her a call. I then got a call from the sheriff of Whatcom county, he's not real happy, either, as he was never informed by Deputy Wickham that Jim had connected our John Doe to the livestock mutilations in and around Diablo. He would also like Jim to give him a call."

"Sounds like everything's under control. Any word on the John Doe, yet?"

"Yeah, seems he was the money man behind Mr. Haidi's cult, also, the owner of the compound where the cult resides," Joel explained. "His name is Paul Duschane and he apparently changed his will last week, with the same lawyer who's on his way, representing our suspects. Mr. Duschane's will now leaves everything to Mr. Haidi. His family is already filing the appropriate papers to contest the will. And if we manage to convict Mr. Haidi, the new will will be null and void, anyway."

"Good job, people." Simon smiled and took another sip of coffee. Hearing the door to his office open behind him, he turned to see a rumpled and grumpy Jim Ellison glaring at them all.

"We're trying to get a little sleep, here, do you mind?" Jim seemed unaware of his surroundings.

Simon lifted an amused eyebrow, "Oh? And why would I mind? I mean, I only have a ton of paperwork to get through, not to mention files I need to read before the meeting with the Chief of Police at nine. It's eight-fifteen, and I can't even access my coffee pot. Why on earth would I mind?"

Jim looked confused, then turned around and looked back into Simon's office, seeing Blair snuggled down in Simon's chair, sound asleep. Turning back to face his boss and his colleagues, he frowned, trying to make sense of it.

"Oh. Sorry. We didn't get in until after five. It was too late to bother with going home, so I thought..."

"Don't worry about it, Jim," Simon sighed, ignoring the smothered laughter from the rest of his team, "Just wake Sandburg up and get out of my office. If you're too tired, I'll have someone take you home."

"But we need to interrogate our suspects," Jim almost whined in protest.

"Joel and Megan can do that. Unless you have a need to do it?"

Scrubbing his unshaven face with one hand, Jim shook his head, still trying to finish waking up. "No, just that the woman is gonna be the easier one to crack. She's already on the edge. We're just waiting for their lawyer to get here."

"Well, from what's been found from your earlier inquiries, it looks like their lawyer might just need one of his own. Our John Doe turns out to be a Paul Duschane, owner of the place where Haidi's cult lives. His will was just changed, leaving everything to Haidi, about a week or so before his death."

Jim looked up in surprise, "How'd you find that out?" he asked.

Brown answered. "He sent a copy of the new will to his kids, with some kind of cryptic note in it. His daughter lives here in Cascade, and we got lucky. She was in yesterday to file a missing person's on him, since she hadn't been able to get hold of him for more than a week. She was afraid something might have happened to him, and was hoping we could do something. Missing Persons remembered Jim's asking about anyone matching our John Doe's description, put it together and, voila! Case closed."

"Hardly that," Simon disagreed. "But it certainly looks like we have enough to send to the DA. Good work, people. Now, Jim," Simon turned towards his office, "If you would be so kind as to vacate? I have work to do."

"Yeah, sure, Simon. Let me get Blair." He turned back and made his way through the office, not noticing that everyone had followed him. Moving around behind the desk, he crouched beside the chair containing his soundly sleeping partner.

"Hey, Chief? Time to go home, buddy."

"Mmmmppphhh," Blair mumbled, trying to wiggle into a more comfortable position.

Jim smiled, tiredly. "Yeah, I know. But Simon wants his office back, and I'm pretty sure that even the front seat of the truck is gonna be more comfortable than that chair of his."

"S'mn?" Blair's eyelids opened minutely. "S'mn's hr?"

"Yeah, Blair, Simon's here. He wants his office back. He also wants his desk chair. That means you have to get out of it."

"Ct th bd gys?"

"Yeah, Chief. We caught the bad guys. Now, it's time to get you up so we can go home and get some sleep. Simon says we don't have to be back until tomorrow morning."

Surprised, Simon blurted out, "I most certainly did not say any such thing. I need your reports first thing..." he stopped when two weary pair of blue eyes turned and focused on him. He visibly deflated. "Fine. First thing tomorrow. But I want your reports completed by noon! You got me?"

"Yes, Sir," Jim and Blair chorused, suddenly looking much more alert and awake. Jim rose to his feet and Blair bounced out of the Captain's chair, and the pair grinned at their colleagues and captain as they quietly pushed their way through the group, gathered their coats from the rack, and headed out the door, leaving five shocked police officers behind them.

Joel cast a sidelong glance at his long-time friend and started to snicker. Simon tried to glare him down, but that only caused Joel's laughter to increase.

"That's one of the best 'gotchas' I've ever had the privilege of witnessing," Joel finally managed to gasp out through his laughter. The looks of surprise on the faces of the other detectives quickly shifted into amusement, and soon they, too, were trying to stifle their laughter.

Simon glared at them, one by one, his obvious ire quickly cooling their amusement, all except Joel's. With a pointed glare at his friend, who finally managed to control his own hilarity, he growled, "As for the rest of you, I'm sure that all your reports are finished and ready for my inspection?" Immediately, the four detectives spun and headed for their own desks to work busily at their own appointed tasks. Smiling smugly, Simon turned and entered his office, closing the door behind him. Looking around, he noticed that there was a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him. Shaking his head, he began to chuckle. Yeah, that had been one of the best 'gotchas' he'd ever been party to, as well. He didn't really begrudge the pair the day off to recover. After all, they'd pulled more than a double shift, and this way, they wouldn't be getting as much overtime... Something Chief Warren and the Mayor both liked. Chuckling, he set his cup of Starbucks' coffee on the coaster on his desk and sat down, pulling the first of the files toward him. Taking a sip of the excellent Latte, he began what was promising to be a pretty nice day.

The pony act described herein is real. We saw it at the Folsom Rodeo on the Fourth of July a few years ago. When the 'pony' was 'shot', he threw all four legs in the air and landed hard on his side. Everyone was laughing hysterically at the two men... Me, horse-oriented as I am, said, "There's a real pony in that pony suit." My family disagreed. I told them to watch his flanks, his heavy breathing was quite visible. The looks I got from my sibs and their spouses and children when the 'pony' was revealed were priceless... It still ranks up there as the best act I've ever seen... even better than Gunther Gebel-Williams and the Ringling Bros. Barnum and Bailey Circus... If you ever see 'Tony the Pony' at a fair or rodeo, you really don't want to miss it. It's worth the price of admission, all by itself.

TAE