*Author's Note*

Hi guys! I'd just like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter of this story! This story is just so much fun to type. I love it! Anyways, I think this might be the fastest I've ever updated. Twice in one week… Wow. Now, for review replies:

The Beautiful Filth:

Thank you! I agree this fandom has been way too quiet lately! This review made me smile so much! Thank you again! That means so much to me!

Katlana Child:

Thank you so much! This review made me smile so much. I'm glad this story isn't boring to you. Lol. I hope you have a wonderful day, also!

Please don't forget to read and review! It makes writing so much easier when I have positive (or negative) feedback! Now, here's…

The Adventures of a Fangirl

Volume 1:

Chapter 2:

*You are now Special Agent Natara Williams.*

You sit at the table in your hotel suite. Early morning sunlight shines in through the blinds. In front of you, your laptop is open.

"What should I research?" you ask to yourself.

Ellie peeks over your shoulder to look at the computer screen. "You should definitely research Detective Mal Fallon's file," she speaks up.

You jump in your seat, wondering what she's doing in your hotel room. "What are you doing here?!"

"Ah, don't worry about me. Just research Detective Mal Fallon's file. Do it now," she orders, waving you towards the computer screen.

You decide to research Detective Mal Fallon's file. "Well… Why not, right? Let's just call up the police database…" You think to yourself, shrugging.

'Detective Mal Fallon. Birthday: June 9th, 1978.' The computer screen pops up.

"So that means Mal is… 33 years old?" Ellie asks, figuring it up in her head.

"Yeah, I guess so," you shrug.

"…How old are you?" Ellie asks, curiously.

You wave her off. "I'll tell you later." You focus your attention back to the computer screen.

"Eleven years of service… Decorated twice… Quite an impressive record of solved homicides…" you think to yourself, impressed. "Huh, this is interesting. Concerns about reckless behavior… A few citations for disorderly conduct… Several confrontations with authority figures…"

You start to read a little more, when your phone rings!

"Who's that?" Ellie asks.

"It's District Chief Blaire…" you think to yourself, biting your lip nervously.

You answer the phone. "Hello, sir."

"Put it on speaker phone so I can hear!" Ellie exclaims.

You roll your eyes and put your phone on speaker.

"Special Agent Williams. How's the investigation going?" District Chief Blaise asks.

"Well…" you start.

"Just say it is going as expected," Ellie whispers to you.

"It's proceeding as expected," you mimic.

"Oh?" he asks.

"I've prepared a preliminary psychological profile of the killer and am cooperating with local police forces," you inform him.

"Good, good. I appreciate your diligence."

"Thank you, sir."

'Detective Score Up!' appears above your head.

"It appears above YOUR head, TOO?! I thought that was only for Mal!" Ellie yelled, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"I shouldn't have to remind you that you are being watched very closely on this assignment, Agent Williams. Very closely," he warns in a threatening voice.

"Wow, what a dick," Ellie comments, pursing her lips.

"I… I know, sir," you reply, sadly.

"After the Miami debacle, you're on extremely thin ice. Anything short of excellence will be unsatisfactory," he warns.

"I understand," you say.

Then, for once second, you relive that moment, six months ago… That dank, claustrophobic apartment… The sweltering Miami sun… The sobbing of an infant… And above all, the report of pistols and a howling shriek of pain.

Ellie notices that you've drifted off into a flashback for a moment.

"Um… Are you okay?" she asks, eyes wide.

"Is… Is there any word on Agent Mallory's recovery?" you ask Chief Blaire.

He hesitates. "…He's in physical therapy. There are some good signs but… They doubt he'll ever walk again."

"Dang, girl. What in the world did you do?!" Ellie asks, bewildered.

"…I have to go, sir. I'm giving a briefing at the station in half an hour," you say to Chief Blaire, ignoring Ellie.

"You've got one shot at this, Special Agent Williams. Don't screw it up," he threatens.

"She won't!" Ellie screams into the phone right after you hang up.

"What a douchebag!" Ellie exclaims, shaking her head. You give her a tight smile and begin to get dressed.

Fifteen minutes later, you stride into the police bullpen. Police detectives work busily.

"Well, Special Agent, have you prepared a profile for us to follow?" Detective Fallon strides up to you and asks.

"As a matter of fact, I have," you reply.

"If you need any help presenting it, let me know. The guys here can be a little rough," he warns you.

"Awww, he's already trying to protect you! It's the first of many!" Ellie coos.

For the first time since you arrived in San Francisco, you smile. "I think I'll be fine," you say, still grinning, slightly amused.

You then turn to the noisy room. Your demeanor completely changes.

"Hey! Eyes front and center! Now!" you yell, demandingly.

The room goes quiet. All eyes fall on you.

"Damn, girl. Maybe you don't need his protection after all," Ellie states, eyes wide, looking at Mal, whose eyes are also widened.

"I've prepared a profile of the Maskmaker that should help you exclude suspects who don't meet the necessary criteria. Based on my research, the age of the Maskmaker is most likely…" You pause for a second, thinking.

"Twenty to forty!" Ellie whispers to you.

"Twenty to forty," you mimic.

"That makes sense. The guy would need to be old enough to have refined his technique, but young enough to be physically intimidating," Mal says, backing you up.

"Exactly," you grin at him again, grateful for the assistance. "Next, we can expect the Maskmaker to be an…" You pause again.

"Introvert?" Ellie questions.

"Introvert," you finish.

"Someone that precise and compulsive has got to be an introvert. I can't imagine him telling raunchy jokes at the water cooler," Mal says.

Ellie turns around to look at him. "Why are you the only one responding?!"

Everyone decides to ignore her.

"Exactly," you reply to Mal. 'Detective Score Up!' appears above your head.

Ellie looks around, bewildered at all of the officers. "Come on! There has to be like 30 of you in here! Did ANYBODY see that?!"

Everyone looks back at her with raised eyebrows.

"Come on! Not one of you saw that?!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "This is getting ridiculous!"

You blink, confused, but continue your profile. "Finally, we can expect the Maskmaker to be…" You pause again.

"He's pretty smart?" Ellie offers.

"Highly intelligent," you finish.

"Exactly what I've been saying. If this guy were your average creep, he'd have slipped up already," Mal butts in.

"Why do you keep interrupting?!" Ellie asks him.

"What? I'm helping her out!" he replies.

"But why are you the only one doing it?"

All of the officers in the room stare at him.

He blushes and waves at you to continue.

"Absolutely," you finish, grinning. 'Detective Score Up!' appears once again.

"I'm not even going to ask…" Ellie mutters, shaking her head.

"The Maskmaker is methodical and disciplined. And given his access to pharmaceuticals, we can assume he has access to a hospital or clinic," you state.

"Like a doctor?" Captain Yeong asks.

"Could be. Or a vet or an orderly," you answer.

"Okay thanks, Agent Williams. I'm sure this profile will be a big help," Captain Yeong informs you. "Everyone, get back to work."

Detective Fallon strides up to you as everyone else is leaving. "Not bad, Special Agent. Then again, it was nothing my gut didn't already tell me…" He teases.

"Yeah, yeah…" you roll your eyes, smiling.

"Are you guys flirting?!" Ellie asks, hands covering her mouth in shock.

You both roll your eyes and ignore her.

"Come on. Let's swing by the lab and see if the techs have found anything," Mal suggests.

Mal leads you down into a sophisticated crime lab in the basement of the police station. Eric stands over a microscope, going over a series of slides.

"Ah. Detective Fallon. Special Agent…" he trails off, a confused look on his face. "Well, actually, I'm not sure I caught your name."

"Special Agent Williams," you reply.

"That's right. Williams. Distinctly Anglo-Saxon… Welsh, if I'm not mistaken. Surprising for someone of ostensibly South-Asian descent…" he trails off, eyeing you.

"Uh…" you stutter, looking at Mal for help.

"That is crazy weird…" Ellie tells him. "How in the world did you know that?!"

Mal intervenes, coming to your rescue. "Let's skip the genealogy lesson. Eric, did you find anything in Sophie's autopsy?"

"Bruising on her lungs and throat suggest mechanical asphyxiation. Your death-by-mask theory certainly looks solid," he informs you.

"Did he identify what she was drugged with?" Ellie taps you on the shoulder and asks you.

"Did you identify what she was drugged with?" you repeat.

"Excellent question, but no. Whatever compound the killer used was out of her system by the time we found her," Eric replies.

"I was afraid you'd say that…" you trail off, just as 'Detective Score Up!' appears.

"Hey Agent Williams! Quickly take a step to the right!" Ellie exclaims.

You confusingly take a step to the right. The words 'Detective Score Up!' follows you, still above your head.

"Why does it do that?!" Ellie exclaims, just as it disappears.

"Why does what do what?" Mal asks, confused.

"Nothing… Just… Nevermind," Ellie says, shaking her head.

"I can tell it was a paralytic, hospital grade, but beyond that I've got nothing," Eric finishes, ignoring Ellie.

Suddenly, there's an excited squeal from the other side of the room. You turn and see a perky, young woman seated in front of a row of computers.

"Mal! Mal! I've got something!" she shrieks.

"Special Agent Williams, meet our technical analyst and data specialist, Amy Chen," Mal introduces you. "Amy, meet our FBI liasion, Natara Williams."

"Oh! Hi! Nice to meet you! You're really pretty!" Amy tells you in an excited tone.

"I like you. You're perky," Ellie comments, nodding her head.

"Now then, what did you find?" Mal asks.

Amy points to one of her monitors, where several complex images have been overlaid for comparison.

"We ran ammonium acetate and cross-acid absorption tests and discovered trace iron impurities in the quartz!" she explains in an excited tone.

"What?!" Ellie asks, bewildered.

"Um… What?" you ask. "I'm sorry but I have no idea what you just said." 'Detective Score Up!' appears.

"Do YOU see that? Tell me you see that!" Ellie asks Amy.

"See what?" Amy asks, looking around for the mysterious object.

"OH MY GOODNESS!" Ellie yells.

"That makes two of us!" Mal exclaims, in response to you.

"Oh. Sorry. What I meant to say was that I ran a chemical analysis on the plaster in the masks and found trace iron impurities in the quartz," she explains further.

"Uh… Okay. So?" Mal asks, raising an eyebrow.

"So this particular composition indicates that the plaster was imported from Southern Europe. Tuscany, if I'm not mistaken…" Amy trails off, thinking.

Amy's fingers dance across the keyboard at incredible speed. Images flash on the monitor faster than you can keep track.

"Holy cow…" Ellie says, eyes wide. "My head hurts…"

"Now we just bring up regional shipping manifests… Cross-reference them against local art supply specialty stores… And voila!" Amy exclaims, proudly. "There's only one business in the greater San Francisco area that imports its plaster directly from Southern Europe. It's called Italia Imports and Exports, and it's located down by the waterfront. And get this... According to their website, they also deal in exotic masks."

The three of you lean over the monitor.

"Well done, Amy," Eric compliments.

Mal turns to you. "Let's roll."

"Whoo! Yeah! Road trip!" Ellie exclaims, pumping her fist into the air.

Later, Mal drives you both down to the waterfront… You sit in the front seat while Ellie is asleep in the back.

"Your technician is quite the character," you bring up a conversation.

"Eric? Yeah, he can be pretty aloof… But he's damn smart," Mal replies.

"I was actually talking about Amy. You don't meet many people that chipper in our line of work. It's refreshing," you admit.

"Yeah, Amy's one of a kind. She's a technical genius, you know… There's no one out there that can work imaging and analysis software the way she can," Mal replies. "As far as I know, she grew up in a pretty sheltered home and hasn't had a ton of real-world experience. I think it helps her keep her distance. That and rarely leaving the lab. You and I look at murder victims and see husbands, wives, children… She only sees the puzzle."

"Hey. I think we're here," you mention.

You, Mal, and Ellie stand before a shabby building.

"This is it, Italia Imports and Exports," Mal says.

"Looks pretty crappy to me…" Ellie says.

"That's not your typical mall storefront, is it? Can't imagine it gets many customers…" you trail off.

"Me, I prefer buying my creepy deathmasks online," he jokes, making you and Ellie giggle.

"He's cute and he has a nice sense of humor. I'm liking him more every second!" Ellie says to you.

"Come on. Let's go in," Mal says, smiling slightly at the fact that he made you laugh.

You, Mal, and Ellie step into the building. The shelves are lined with exotic masks. A carved, wooden face with a straw mane stares down at you with blank eyes.

"Well, that's…" you start.

"Creepy!" Ellie exclaims, shuddering.

"Creepy," you mimic, eyeing the face.

"It was meant to be." A tall, lanky man strides over.

"That's an Iroquois False Face mask. Tribal shamans used masks like that one to frighten off evil spirits," he informs you.

"Interesting," You murmur, just as 'Detective Score Up!' appears above your head.

"I'm too creeped out to worry about that right now…" Ellie mutters, hiding behind Mal.

"And you are…?" you ask him.

"Hello. My name is Boggs. Lance Boggs. Tell me, miss, are you a fellow mask aficionado? If so, you've come to the right place," he says.

"Actually, I'm Special Agent Williams of the FBI, and this is Detective Fallon," you introduce yourselves.

"That's… Unexpected. I take it this house call is in regards to the Maskmaker killings?" he asks. Mr. Boggs shiftily eyes the rear exit.

"Oh, he's about to run," Ellie calls.

"And why would you think that?" Mal asks, eyebrows furrowed.

"It, uh, hardly takes a genius to put two and two together, Detective," he stutters. "The Bureau wouldn't waste an agent on just any crime, and I do happen to share the Maskmaker's distinctive obsession."

"Mr. Boggs, we're here because the Maskmaker is using plaster acquired from your business to murder innocent women," Mal informs him. "We need to take a look at your records."

"I'm afraid that would be a waste of your time, Detective. I run a cash-only operation," he says, frowning. "As such, our records are rather… Incomplete."

"Gotcha. You don't want cops like me knowing about the black market antiques that move through this dump," Mal says, angrily.

"I assume you have evidence to back up that accusation, Officer, or do I need to call my attorney?" Mr. Boggs threatens.

"Go ahead. Make the call. We'll see who…" he starts.

You interrupt him. "Detective, take it easy."

"But…" he trails off, frowning.

"One moment please, Mr. Boggs," you ask him.

You, Ellie, and Mal step outside.

"What are you doing? That creep is lying to us. I can feel it," Mal says, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah, Agent Williams! He feels it in his gut!" Ellie takes up for him.

You ignore her. "I agree, but he's not going to cooperate with us if you keep badgering him, and we definitely don't have enough to book him. But I think if we play along with him, we can get him to talk," you explain.

"And what makes you so sure about that?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

"Because Lance Boggs is an unprincipled narcissist with an innate compulsion to impress those around him."

"…What?" Ellie asks.

"Okay, and that means…?" Mal asks, equally as confused.

"It means he'll talk to me if I push the right buttons," you reply.

"You've got ten minutes. I'll be listening in through the window," Mal tells you. "And be careful… He might not look like much, but he could be dangerous."

You enter the warehouse once again. Lance Boggs steps up behind you, holding a box cutter.

"Oh shit… Here we go," Ellie whispers, terrified.

"You again. What do you want?" Mr. Boggs asks. Behind you, Ellie blows a sigh of relief.

"I just wanted to apologize for my partner. He can be a little…" you pause, looking for the right words.

"Uncouth?" Ellie suggests.

"Uncouth," you finish.

"Uncouth. Boorish. Impertinent. He sickens me," he frowns.

'Detective Score Up!' appears. Ellie grits her teeth and tries not to interrupt.

"It's like Aristotle wrote. 'Those who render justice through force instead render all justice unjust,'" you finish.

"Ah! An educated woman!" Mr. Boggs grins. He steps closer. The box cutter glints. "Please, my dear. Allow me to show you something." Boggs slices open a nearby box to reveal three masks.

"Those are very impressive pieces," you comment.

"Oh really? Any piece in particular?" he asks.

You look into the box and see a black demon mask with horns and an evil grin… A white plaster mask of a woman's face… And a wooden mask with a human figure on top.

"Yes, I like…" you pause.

"That white mask looks like Sophie's!" Ellie whispers.

"The female mask," you say.

"Oh, you like the L'Inconnue de la Seine? Good choice. I must confess, it's a favorite of mine, as well," he says. "The original was created by a pathologist at the Paris Morgue in the late 1800s. He was so taken by the beauty of a drowned girl that he preserved the image of her face in plaster."

"Plaster mask. Body in the water. Kind of sounds like the Maskmaker, doesn't it?" you ask.

"Oh, you're right! Only in Sophie's case, the mask was made first, and then her body was dumped overboard," he says.

Ellie gasps in a corner. "How did he know her name?!"

"Did you just say 'Sophie'?" You ask, raising your eyebrow.

"Well, yes, the third victim… Is there something wrong?" he asks.

"Only that we deliberately kept Sophie's name out of the press," you furrow your eyebrows.

"Oh, heh, I'm sure I must've read it somewhere…" he stutters nervously.

"He's about to run!" Ellie whispers.

Mr. Boggs continues to stutter. "Because I…I…" He turns to run, but instead bumps into Mal. Mal slams Mr. Boggs against a shelf.

"Dang… Mal don't play," Ellie commented, impressed.

"Lance Boggs, you are under arrest for the murder of Sophie Patterson, Chanelle Pomeroy…" Mal starts.

"No! Wait! Wait! I'm not the Maskmaker! I've just been talking to him!" he pleads.

"What…?!" Mal exclaims.

"Please, allow me to explain. Follow me," he says, sadly. Mr. Boggs leads you, Mal, and Ellie into the back and opens up a laptop. "This morning, I received an instant message from an individual claiming to be the Maskmaker. He offered to sell me an 'original work.'"

"Oh my God, I think I'm going to be sick," Ellie states, gagging.

Mal scans the chat log. "Here it is. Whoever this is, he listed all three victims by name. Nobody but police should know that information."

"So this really could be our guy?" you ask, eyes widening.

"Yeah. Could be. Boggs, does this person emailing you have any idea what you look like?" Mal asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I… I don't think so. Please, you have to believe me. I never would've made the purchase," he begs.

"That's too bad, because you're about to," Mal says. He begins typing a reply.

"Wait. You… You're actually going to try to buy the mask?" you ask.

"Mal… WHY?! That's disgusting!" Ellie shrieks.

"Exactly. When the Maskmaker comes to deliver the merchandise, we'll be there to take him down. You got a problem with that?" Mal asks, smirking.

"No, I just think you should…" you think for a moment.

"Negotiate the price," Ellie suggests.

"Negotiate the price," you repeat.

"This could be our only shot at catching this guy. You really think we should be bargaining with him?" Mal asks.

"Absolutely. You're pretending to be Lance Boggs, remember? He may love masks, but he's also a shrewd businessman. He'd try for the best deal he can get," you finish.

"She's right, you know. I always lowball my opening bid," Mr. Boggs shrugs.

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Good thinking," Mal praises you.

"I'll try to pretend you didn't sound surprised," you reply as 'Detective Score Up!' appears above your head.

Ellie grits her teeth and swats at it.

Everyone stares at her, wondering why she's swatting at the empty space above your head. She then notices everyone staring at her and chuckles nervously. "Heh, heh… Sorry, guys. There was a, uh, fly. Don't worry though. I got it." She turns around and goes back to stand in her corner, blushing.

Everyone then decides to ignore her.

Mal cuts the offer by half and then presses 'send'.

"Now let's see what happens next," Mal says.

An instant message pops up. It shows an address in Portola.

"Hey! It worked!" you exclaim, smiling.

"Yeah, but it looks like he's only given us fifteen minutes to get there. We better get moving," he says, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Whoo! Another road trip!" Ellie exclaims, running out the door behind you and Mal.

Fifteen minutes later, Mal steers his unmarked police vehicle into a vacant lot.

"A little exposed, aren't we?" you ask.

"Guy probably wanted it that way. Wanted to scope us out before he made the exchange," Mal comments. "By the way, I loved your little performance back there. You usually beef up on Aristotle before shaking down suspects?" He asks, grinning.

You smile, knowingly. "Actually, I made that quote up on the spot. I haven't read Aristotle since high school."

"Who reads Aristotle in high school?" Mal asks, looking confused.

"Smart nerdy girls with crushes on their Honors English teachers. Now can we get back to the…" you start, but see something. "Hey, look! I bet that's our guy!"

A sleek, black sedan with tinted windows pulls into the lot. It flashes its lights twice.

"That's my cue," Mal says. He exits the vehicle and holds up a briefcase. "I brought the money just like you said."

The black sedan idles for a moment…

"Why isn't he getting out?" you think to yourself.

"He's about to run," Ellie mentions.

Then it revs its engine and speeds forward!

"Mal, watch out!" Ellie yells.

Mal leaps to the side as it flies right past him!

"Quick! Get in!" you yell.

Mal slides into the passenger seat. "Drive, Natara! Drive! He's getting away!"

You step on the gas and tear off after the black sedan! Mal flips on the siren! The two cars streak down the tight streets of San Francisco! A taxi swerves out of your way!

"Stay on him! Stay on him!" Mal yells.

"I am!" you yell back.

"Don't let him get away!" Ellie exclaims.

The black sedan spins onto a narrow street! You see it just barely swing by a dump truck backing out! The truck doesn't see you! It keeps backing out!

"Swerve!" Ellie yells.

You deftly swerve by the garbage truck!

"Good! Stay on him!" Mal exclaims.

The black sedan careens out of the alley and onto a crowded street! It swerves wildly between cars!

"The guy can drive, I'll give him that…" you mutter.

The black sedan makes a hard left, flying through a red light! A bus brakes to avoid it and collides with an SUV!

"He's on a one-way street! I know a shortcut that'll cut him off! Take the next left!" Mal informs you.

"But we'll lose him!" you cry.

"Trust me!" he yells.

"Yeah, trust him!" Ellie yells, also.

You decide to follow Mal's instructions.

"All right! I trust you!" you shout back.

"If this weren't a really intense moment, this would be really cute right now!" Ellie yells.

You drive past the streetlight and take the next left onto a tight downhill street!

"We got this… We got this…" Mal murmurs.

"Just take a left… Then a right… Then take another left at Dan Dan Dim Sum!" Mal orders.

You make a left… Then a right… Then you look for…

"Dan Dan Dim Sum!" Ellie yells, pointing to it.

You swerve left outside of Dan Dan Dim Sum, a fancy Chinese restaurant… And find yourself right behind the black sedan! You've almost got him!

"Perfect!" Mal praises.

You slam down on the gas and speed up right behind the black sedan!

"This is such an adrenaline rush! I might have a heart attack!" Ellie screams, holding her heart.

"I got you, you reckless sack of…" you start.

"Slam into his bumper!" Ellie orders.

You accelerate and slam into the black sedan's bumper!

"Whoa!" Mal yells, angrily.

The black sedan veers to the side and plows into a lamppost! The windshield shatters, and the street fills with the smell of burning rubber!

"Got him!" Mal exclaims.

"BUT YOU POSSIBLY DESTROYED MAL'S CAR!" Ellie shrieks.

"Good driving, Natara!" Mal praises you once again.

'Detective Score Up!' pops up above your head as you reply, "No problem!"

"I'm too busy trying to calm my racing heart to worry about that right now!" Ellie collapses in the back seat, breathing heavily.

You and Mal hop out of the car, with Ellie tagging along behind, draw your guns, and walk towards the wrecked sedan. You can see the driver, his face bloodied, fumbling with the door.

"Don't move!" you demand.

You throw open the door. The driver looks up at you… And reaches clumsily into his coat pocket!

"Natara! Threaten him or something before he shoots you!" Ellie whispers.

You decide to threaten him. "Hey! Keep your hands where I can see them, or I will splatter your head across that backseat! Now!"

"Whoa! Whoa! I'm just… Just getting… My ID…" the driver stutters.

The driver's hand falls weakly out of his coat, dropping his license into the road. Mal picks up the license.

"Ah hell. I thought I recognized this guy," Mal mutters.

"You do?" you ask.

"You do?" Ellie mimics.

"Yeah. Marvin Clemente. Real scumbag. Used to be a cop," Mal says, angrily. "He worked Narcotics until he got booted from the force three years ago for taking bribes. Rumor has it he was supporting a gambling addiction."

"And I'm guessing he recognized you too, and that's why he fled the scene," you observe.

Mal pulls Marvin out of the car and slaps a pair of cuffs on him!

"Marvin Clemente, you're under arrest for the murders of Chanelle Pomeroy, Kirsty Barnett, and Sophie Patterson…" you start.

"Murder… I didn't… Murder nobody…" he muttered weakly.

"You swore an oath to serve and protect, you bastard! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Mal yells at him. He grabs Marvin by the collar and slams him back against the frame of the car!

"Dang… You should get him," Ellie says, pointing at an angry Mal.

You decide to pull Mal back.

"Mal! Leave him alone! He's already injured! The last thing we need is a police brutality charge!" you yell at him. 'Detective Score Up!' appears above your head.

Ellie is standing there, watching the whole scene with wide eyes, completely ignoring the words.

You pull Mal back. He takes a deep breath and steps away.

"You… You're right. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "It's just… There's nothing that pisses me off more than a crooked cop."

"I see. It strikes a nerve, then?" you ask.

"Let's just say it hits close to home," he replies.

"What the heck just happened?!"Ellie says slowly, looking scared to death.

"Now come on. Let's get this piece of crap down to the station," Mal says.

A few hours later, you talk to District Chief Blaire on the phone…

"Good work this morning, Agent Williams. I heard you successfully apprehended your suspect," he praises.

"Yes, sir," you reply.

"This will go over well at your review. Do you believe Clemente is really the Maskmaker?" he asks.

"Well, it's too early to say. He's in the hospital right now with four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a concussion. And they've got him too doped up on painkillers for interrogation," you explain.

Mal walks over and gestures for you to hang up.

"Uh, I have to go, sir. Something's come up. I'll call you back," you say, before hanging up.

"What's going on?" you ask Mal.

"Marvin's not our guy," Mal says, gritting his teeth.

"What? What are you talking about?" you ask, confused.

"What?! Even after that huge car chase?!" Ellie exclaims.

"As soon as the word came in that he was a suspect, a secretary in Evidence Control called our unit and confessed to being his girlfriend. It turns out the two of them were running quite the little racket. She fed him information about the Maskmaker case…" he starts.

"He made the masks!" Ellie concludes.

"And he made replica masks," you finish. "That's just perverse." Once again, 'Detective Score Up!' pops up.

"Does this thing only show up when I answer?!" Ellie asks to herself.

"There's a huge market for murderbilia, souvenirs used in real crimes… Dahmer's drill, Gacy's clown mask, the Unabomber's typewriter…" Mal trails off. "You'd be amazed what these things can go for online. We're talking hundreds of thousands of dollars."

"So Clemente's not guilty, just a common hustler trying to pass out replica masks as the real thing," you repeat, sadly.

"My heart breaks for him," Mal says, sarcastically. "Listen. We know Boggs didn't keep books, but he did log the names of repeat buyers in his computer. It's a long shot, but we might find a connection there. You should swing by the lab. Eric wanted to get your DNA on file."

"What for?" you ask.

"Standard procedure. You're going to be all over these crime scenes, and they need a way to screen you out."

"Oh. Right. I'll head down there. Good luck with the files."

You head down to the lab. Under the hum of the fluorescent lights, Amy is examining some sediment samples.

"Hey, is Eric around? I need to have my DNA input into your system…" you say.

"He's down at the morgue, actually, going over the autopsy report… But I can do that for you!" she chirps.

You settle down with Amy. She swabs your mouth and begins processing the sample…

"Thanks, Amy. I hope it's not an imposition…"

"Are you kidding? I don't mind at all! Do you know how rarely I get to talk to another girl down here?" she smiles at you.

"Um, I'm here too, you know?" Ellie speaks up.

You both ignore her.

"I can imagine. For what it's worth, you're doing a great job," you smile back at her. "A couple more leads like that, and we'll nail this guy."

"Thanks but… You know, I really can't take too much credit. It was Eric's idea…" She looks away sadly. "Can I… Um… Ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, I suppose."

"Yeah, go ahead! I wanna know what this is about!" Ellie says, excitedly.

"Have you ever been… Interested in one of your colleagues? You know… Romantically?" she asks you.

"Oh, don't tell me… You're interested in…" You think for a moment.

"Well, Mal's married so it has to be Eric!" Ellie decides.

"Eric," you repeat.

"You… How did you know?" she asks, shocked. "Am I really that obvious?"

"I'm a profiler. This is what I do." 'Detective Score Up!'

"Profiler, my butt. You wouldn't have gotten that detective score up if it weren't for me telling you who she liked!" Ellie grumbles.

"So… Have you ever been involved with a colleague?" Amy asks.

"Yeah, Natara. Have you?" Ellie echoes.

"…Yes. Once. It didn't end well," you reply.

"Did you guys break up?" Amy asks.

"Something like that. He was shot," you frown.

Ellie and Amy gasp.

"That's terrible!" Ellie exclaims.

"Oh! I'm… I'm sorry!" Amy says.

"It's okay. I've… Come to terms with it. The truth is, we're in a high-stress line of work. Blending that with romance can be risky."

"I know, I know. It's just… Eric and I spend a lot of time in the lab together, and… I know he can seem prickly, but he does have a really sweet side," she sighs dreamily. "Sometimes, when we talk, it seems like he's almost ready to open up to me… But I worry about taking that step. What do you think I should do?"

"Aw, that's so cute! Tell him how you feel!" Ellie shrieks.

"You should tell him how you feel," you echo.

"Really?" Amy asks.

"Well, I shouldn't officially say anything… But yeah. You spend enough time looking at murder victims, you start to realize life's too short to hide your feelings," you reply.

"Wow, thanks! No offense, but I really didn't expect that from you!" she exclaims.

"Am I that cold?" you grin.

"Well… Maybe a little…" Amy frowns. Her tech equipment beeps.

"There! Done! Now you're in our system!" she chirps.

"Thank you, Amy!" you reply.

You turn to walk away when Amy stands up. "You're… You're going to stop this guy, right? Before he kills another girl?" she asks.

"I hope so, Amy. I hope so," you reply, sadly.

You are now high school sophomore Brittany Emerson. You stand barefoot on the soft sands of East Beach. A huge bonfire rages in front of you, surrounded by other high schoolers.

"…Where am I? Where's Mal and Natara?" Ellie asks, looking around, confused.

You ignore the girl by the water, who is looking around wildly.

"Brittany! I didn't think you were going to show! This party is awesome!" Monica Patel exclaims to you.

"Well, I totally shouldn't have. If my parents knew I was out here, they would flip… It's bad enough that I'm out at a party… But with the whole Maskmaker thing going on, they're completely on edge…" you say, sadly.

"Wait…" Ellie says to herself. "Is this girl about to die? Tell me this little girl isn't about to die!"

No one hears her.

Suddenly, a firm hand grabs your shoulder!

"Hey, Brittany! You talking about the Maskmaker?" Greg Chapman asks. "Don't worry about him. If that sick piece of crap comes by here, my boys and I will take care of him."

"Oh my God, don't say that… He's probably hiding somewhere around here…" Ellie whispers, eyes wandering around.

Greg mock-punches the air a few times. "Now grab a cup! Drinks are in the cooler." He runs off.

"Okay. Admit it. He is ridiculously hot," Monica looks after him, grinning.

"Ridiculously hot? Have you seen him? He has green hair!?" Ellie exclaims.

"He's not really my type," you say.

"And what is your type? A science textbook and a late night studying?" Monica teases you.

"I just like a guy I can have an actual conversation with… And not about his six-pack abs," you grin at her.

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna go have a great conversation with his six-pack abs…" Mona giggles.

Your cell phone beeps. It's a text from your little sister. 'Mom wants to know where u r…'

"Oh shoot… I have to take this. Be right back!" you exclaim. You walk away from the noise of the party towards the isolated bushes at the end of the beach.

"Honey, that's not a good idea. Do not go over there alone!" Ellie exclaims, but you ignore her.

You dial your home number, and your mother answers.

"Brittany? Sweetie? Where are you?" your mom asks over the phone.

"Uh… I'm…" You stutter.

"Just say you're at your friend's house!" Ellie whispers to you, then clamps a hand over her own mouth. "I can't believe I'm helping you lie! NO! Tell your mother the truth before you die!"

"Sleeping over at Mona's house," you reply, ignoring Ellie and rolling your eyes.

"You… You didn't mention that to me… You know how I feel about that girl…" your mom says.

"I promise we're not getting into trouble. We just need to finish this project for computer class," you lie.

"Well… If it's for school… I supposed it's okay."

"It's fine, Mom. I promise. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie. Be safe."

You hang up.

"Phew!" you think to yourself.

"Go home, girl! Run while you still can!" Ellie whispers.

You take a step back towards the party…

Suddenly, two firm hands grab you and jerk you back into the bushes!

"Oh, God. It's happening! I told you to run!" Ellie yells.

A rough, gloved hand clamps over your mouth, and another presses down on your throat!

"Don't scream. Don't. Scream," the Maskmaker threatens.

You scream anyways. "Mmmmmmm!" The hand around your throat tightens! You choke for air!

"I said don't scream!" the Maskmaker demands.

"Get out of there!" Ellie yells.

You struggle. "Mmmmm!"

You writhe and kick! The man jerks your head up and slams it in the dirt!

"I don't want to hurt you. You're just… You're too beautiful," the masked man states.

"Okay, this just got all kinds of creepy…" Ellie shudders.

You continue to struggle. You thrust your knee up into the man's gut!

"Uff!" he exclaims.

He twists himself around and puts his weight on your chest.

"Keep fighting!" Ellie encourages.

You continue to struggle. You jerk up, shoving the man aside! You stagger to your feet and lunge forward out of the bushes…

"Run, girl, run!" Ellie yells.

The man grabs you and pulls you back! Your head slams against the ground! You gasp for air… The man reaches into his coat and then towards your throat! You feel the sting of a syringe, the intense pressure of an injection…Then you go numb.

"Oh, no, not the injection again! That's totally cheating!" Ellie complains.

"Hhhhh…" you groan.

The man kneels down and runs his hand along your face. "You look just like her… Just like her…"

You struggle to move, but your limbs are dead weight!

"So beautiful… And so disgusting… A stain… You might be the one, you know. You might be the one."

You stare up at his blank, cold mask…

"I just need to see your true face," he says.

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!" Ellie screams before everything goes black.

*Chapter 2 completed*

Thanks again for reading! Don't forget to review, please!

Love,

bugreid