Mr. Horne winced and said very quickly, "You have to understand, he wasn't like this until today. I think, we all think, that hearing that Laura's killer was found has caused him to have a nervous breakdown."

At that moment, a white-haired man with dark brown eyebrows came into the room sporting a huge grin. "Mission accomplished," he said brightly.

Brenda stared for a moment before she remembered herself. "Mr. Palmer, I presume?"

"Why yes," he answered, coming forward and holding out a hand. Brenda took it, expecting a handshake, but instead she was pulled out of her chair and twirled around the room as Leland Palmer continued to hum his song.

A hurried glance at Gabriel showed him to be out of his chair and clearly about to intervene. Probably with extreme prejudice. Brenda shook her head at him. He scowled, but sat back down.

"Mr. Palmer, my name is Brenda Johnson and I'm with the FBI."

Mr. Palmer just smiled and continued to dance her around the room.

"I have some questions about your daughter."

At that, Mr. Palmer let Brenda go and stumbled back a few steps, burying his face in his hands. "Laura!" he wailed. He collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

Apparently Mrs. Palmer wasn't the only one who had been broken by grief.

"It's best to just let it run its course," Mr. Horne said, making no move to comfort his friend and business partner.

Brenda turned to Horne. "Sir, Mrs. Palmer told us that Mr. Palmer was working late the night Laura was killed."

"That's right," Horne said. "We were preparing for a presentation the next day. He didn't leave here till midnight."

Brenda nodded thoughtfully. "And the other times that Mr. Palmer worked late? When he worked all night?"

Horne looked panicked for a second before an expression of righteous indignation crossed his face. "I don't like what you're implying Agent Johnson. Leland Palmer is devoted to his family. He would never do anything to hurt them."

Interesting. Brenda smiled and said, "Of course, of course. Thank you so much for your time Mr. Horne and..." she glanced at the ground where Mr. Palmer was moaning into the carpet "...well. Thank you again."

Stepping around the man crying on the floor, Brenda and Gabriel beat a hasty retreat. As soon as they reached the safety of the hallway, Gabriel said, "Mistress?"

"Definitely," Brenda answered. "Come on, I need to make a phone call."

ooo

Fritz wasn't at the hospital anymore and Brenda cursed the lack of cell coverage as she flipped through the yellow pages looking for the number for the sheriff's office. "It's like being in another time, isn't it," Gabriel said sympathetically from his seat on the room's lone chair.

"And not in a good way," Brenda said with a frown as she finally found the number and dialed. Five minutes later she hung up the phone and sighed.

"Fritz wants us to come to the sheriff's station. Apparently Agent Cooper has something he wants to share."

"You know, I've known guys who've gotten shot," Gabriel said. "They don't usually bounce back this quickly."

"I suspect Agent Cooper has a history of doing things not expected of him," Brenda said. "Just give me one moment and we can go," she added, dialing. "I've got one more call to make."

Lieutenant Provenza was bored. Really bored. So bored that he was actually contemplating joining the poker game in the corner, even though he knew better to play against Flynn, who though cheating was just part of the game. Unfortunately the only other options were doing paperwork by hand or, worse, reporting to Commander Taylor.

Fortunately the phone rang before he was reduced to such dire straits. He snagged it before anyone else had a chance. "Priority homicide."

Hello, Lieutenant Provenza.

"Chief!" Provenza grinned. He knew he could count on her to keep things lively. Daniels, Sanchez, and Flynn put down their cards as he spoke, and Lieutenant Tao abandoned his book on forensic accounting.

I take it from that indiscreet greeting that Chief Pope is not around.

"Haven't seen him since this morning."

All the same, I'd feel better if you went to my office. That way you can put me on speakerphone.

"Sure thing, Chief." He put her on hold and headed to the office. At the door, he looked back at everyone else, all still watching from their original seats. "Well come on then."

They all scrambled to follow. Once inside the office, Flynn promptly took the Chief's chair, leaving everyone else to find what seats they could.

Provenza closed the blinds and posted Sanchez to keep watch for Chief Pope before picking up the phone and putting it on speaker. "Okay, Chief, we're ready."

Thank you, Lieutenant Provenza. First, how is the paperwork on the Lucinda Scott case coming?

"Not so good, Chief," Sanchez said. "Someone opened up an e-mail attachment that he shouldn't have and let loose a virus. We lost everything we had typed up on the case so far and the computers are down for the moment."

Really? Well, when I get back I'll make sure the person responsible gets exactly what he deserves.

Lieutenant Tao grinned smugly and leaned back in his chair. Provenza could tell the man was already coming up with what he wanted from the Chief for creating that computer virus.

Next, I want to make it very clear that you cannot talk about this case with anyone outside of the department. If anyone asks, you are tying up loose ends on the Scott case. There was a flurry of agreement. Thank you. Okay, before I left I put a copy of the case file in right hand drawer of my desk.

Flynn immediately pulled open a drawer, which proved to be chock full of candy, chips, snack crackers, and cookies. "I don't see it, Chief."

Really? What do you see?

"...junk food?"

Right hand drawer, Lieutenant, not left hand drawer.

"Oh, right. Okay, I found it." He opened the file and set the file on the desk.

I'll let you read it for the details, but the basic facts of the case are these: a high school student named Laura Palmer was abducted eight days ago in Twin Peaks, Washington, along with a nineteen-year-old woman named Ronette Pulaski. Both woman were raped and tortured and Laura was murdered. Before her death, she had sex with three men. Lieutenant Tao, I'm having DNA samples sent to your house. One is from the rape kit and the other two are from men who might have had sexual relations with Laura that night. I'll need those results back immediately.

"Uh, Chief, I don't think I can pass that off as being related to the Scott case."

I'll leave it up to you what you tell them, Lieutenant. Tao looked a lot less smug now. Also, I'll be faxing over the results of the autopsy and rape kit. I'll need you to look over that as well, see if they missed anything.

"Yes, ma'am," Tao said, sounding depressed. Provenza smirked.

Detective Sanchez, how are your contacts in Narcotics and Vice?

"Pretty good," he answered, still watching the murder room through a crack in the blinds. "Gangs do a lot of business in both."

Good. I want you to see what your friends know about drugs coming down from Canada. I also need you to look into a pornographic magazine called Flesh World. They have a section for amateurs to advertise and they forward letters to the amateurs to ensure no direct contact. Laura and Ronette were both listed and their letters were forwarded to the same PO box. I need you to see if any other girls in the magazine used that box. You'll have to get the information from Flesh World directly, but it shouldn't be too hard to get a warrant if necessary, considering what happened to Laura and Ronette. Go back at least three years.

Sanchez grinned. "I'll get right on that, ma'am."

Detective Daniels, do you know any federal judges?

"I might. Depends on what you want from them."

I'll need you to get warrants to go through the finances of Leland Palmer and Benjamin Horne, both from Twin Peaks. And, while you're at it, for the Packard Sawmill. There's a good chance Horne owns at least part of a brothel and casino just north of the Canadian border called One Eyed Jacks; he may be using it to launder drug money.

"I'm not sure I can get a warrant with that, Chief. Canada's, well...Canada."

Horne and Palmer were also trying to buy the sawmill for a real estate development they were working on. The owner refused to sell and last night it was burned to the ground. There's definite signs of arson.

"That I can work with," Daniels said, already taking notes.

"What about me?" Provenza asked.

The chief sighed. How would you and Lieutenant Flynn feel about using some of your vacation time to do some undercover work for this case?

Provenza glanced at Flynn, who snorted and shook his head. "I've been saving my days," Provenza hedged.

What if I told you that the undercover work was at a Canadian brothel and casino?

"Well, hell, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Provenza asked. "I'm in."

"Me, too, Chief," Flynn added.

"Hey, why do they get to go?" Sanchez asked, turning to glare at the phone.

Because Sergeant Gabriel has single-handedly increased the minority population of the town by fifty percent, the Chief answered, her voice dry.

Sanchez turned back to the window, sulking. "Oh, shit, Pope is here."

Wh--

Provenza snatched the phone off the hook and set it on the desk, then strategically positioned himself between the office door and the phone. Behind him, he heard Flynn hiding the file, and not a moment too soon as the office door burst open a second later and Pope stormed in.

"What are you all doing in here?" he snapped.

"Well," Tao started. "As you know, all of our computers are down so..."

"So you should be reporting to Commander Taylor until they come back up," Pope said.

"We were going to," Daniels said, "but first we had to..." She stuttered to a halt, unable to come up with anything.

Oh, for the love of... "We had to plan a party," Provenza said. "To welcome Chief Johnson home."

"She's been gone less than a day," Pope retorted.

"Well, we didn't want to do everything at the last minute," Provenza said reasonably.

Pope opened his mouth, no doubt to send them all packing over to Commander Taylor, when Flynn said, "You want the truth, Chief?"

"I would love nothing more," Pope answered.

Flynn took out his toothpick and said with surprisingly believable sincerity, "The truth is, we all gave Chief Johnson a hard time when she started." There were a few snorts and meaningful looks from the rest of the room and Flynn rolled his eyes. "Okay, me more than most. Anyway, we just wanted to show her that we really do appreciate her and we thought a welcome home party would do the trick."

"Oh," Pope said, looking mollified. "That is very commendable. Carry on. But as soon as the computers are back up, I fully expect to see you all finishing up the Scott paperwork."

"Of course," Flynn said, popping his toothpick back in his mouth.

Pope gave them all another suspicious look then left, shaking his head. Provenza waited till Sanchez gave the thumbs up before putting the phone back on speaker.

A welcome home party?

"Well, you know we miss you, Chief," Provenza said.

"Oh, I don't know," Flynn said. "Sort've feels like she never left."

The chief sighed. Provenza and Flynn, I'll need you to come up here tomorrow. You're in deep cover, which means no face-to-face contact with me or Gabriel. I'll call you later with more details. Also, and this is for everyone, there's no cell coverage in Twin Peaks, so I'll need you to send everything to me by e-mail. Any questions?

"Yeah, I have one," Flynn said. "How're we supposed to get Pope to give us the time off?"

I have faith in your ability to bullshit, Lieutenant.

Flynn, of course, looked proud.

If you need me, you can send me an e-mail or leave me a message at the Great Northern Hotel in Twin Peaks. Flynn and Provenza, I'll expect your call once you know your arrival time and before you begin packing. Otherwise, good luck and thank you all. Thank you very much.

She hung up and Provenza did the same.

There was a moment of silence before Daniels said, "You do realize that we're going to have to throw her an actual party now, right?"

"You are going to have to throw her a party," Provenza said, gleefully. "Flynn and I have to do some deep undercover work with a few ladies of the working persuasion."

He and Flynn gave each other a discreet high-five.

Sanchez continued to sulk.

ooo

As they drove to the sheriff's office, Gabriel asked, "What's One Eyed Jacks have to do with Laura's murder?"

"Aside from the fact that Renault, one of the last people to see Laura alive, works there?" Brenda asked. Gabriel shot her a look. "I'm not sure yet, Sergeant. Agent Cooper went there last night, but didn't note why in his files."

"Maybe he just went to gamble."

"Does he seem like the gambling type to you?" Brenda asked, amused.

"Not really," Gabriel said. "But we just got here."

"True," Brenda said with a sigh. "And it's already obvious we need backup. Once Flynn and Provenza get here, I'll find more for them to do."

Gabriel grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

When they pulled into the parking lot behind the sheriff's office, they found it nearly full. "It appears we have visitors," Brenda said as Gabriel took the last spot in the lot.

"Looks like," Gabriel said. He sounded about as happy as Brenda felt.

Lucy the receptionist met them at the door and silently escorted them to the conference room; Brenda wondered if the other woman was always this quiet or if she just didn't like out-of-towners. She was still wondering when she stepped into the room and froze in horror. "Oh my God," Gabriel muttered behind her.

Doughnuts. Dozens, maybe even hundreds, of doughnuts lined the napkin-covered conference table, carefully arranged in stacks of two. There had to be at least ten varieties there, and from the profusion of crumbs and jelly smears in front of Agent Cooper, he'd tried at least three of them already. The man must have a metabolism of a hummingbird.

"Come on in, Brenda," Fritz said. He was sitting a couple of seats down from Agent Cooper and was working on his own pile of crumbs. "Lucy put out a snack for us."

"So I see," Brenda said, stepping into the room but staying close to the wall, as far back from temptation as possible. Gabriel stuck close to her side.

Agent Cooper wiped powdered sugar off one hand and gestured to a tall, attractive man in a black suit standing at the end of the conference table. "Brenda Johnson, David Gabriel, I'd like you to meet Albert Rosenfield. He's done most of the forensics on this case."

"Very nice to meet you, I'm sure," Brenda said, stepping closer and holding out her hand.

Rosenfield looked over Brenda and Gabriel with a sneer. "Affirmative action is alive and well, I see."

Fritz scowled and stood up. Agent Cooper shook his head wearily. Sheriff Truman, sitting next to him, sighed. Deputy Andy, standing in the corner, looked like he wanted to cry.

Gabriel glanced at Brenda's expression, muttered "oh shit", and took a big step back.

Clearly he was expecting a show, and Brenda found herself quite unwilling to let him down. She dropped her hand and gave Rosenfield her brightest smile.

Fritz murmured "oh fuck" and took his own big step back.

Rosenfield's sneer grew as Brenda stepped closer. "You're cute, honey, and I like blondes, but I'm here on business."

"Albert," Agent Cooper said in a warning voice.

"Agent Rosenfield, I've heard of you," Brenda said, smoothly cutting Agent Cooper off. "You're the genius forensics expert, right?" Rosenfield preened just a little. Brenda's voice hardened. "The one who had Laura Palmer's body for over eight hours and didn't have time to finish an autopsy?"

Rosenfield flushed a bright red and Cooper's hand, which had been held out in warning, suddenly dropped. Along with his jaw, which fell open to imitate Truman's and the deputy's. "I wonder," Brenda said softly. "What were you doing in all that time?"

Fritz made a pained noise and Brenda could just imagine him covering his face with his hand. Well, it was just too bad. She wasn't done yet.

"Now, I'll admit that your forensic work thus far has been...adequate--" another choked off noise from Fritz "--but after a week you still haven't gotten DNA results, you didn't bother fingerprinting the crime scene, and your lousy attitude is making my job more difficult. Now why don't you sit down and keep your mouth shut unless you have something useful to say."

Rosenfield opened his mouth. Brenda took a step closer and glared. Rosenfield glanced at Agent Cooper, who was looking gobsmacked, back at Brenda, who narrowed her eyes, and sat down.

"Now then," Brenda said, stepping back and tingeing her voice with honeyed sweetness. "Agent Cooper, I believe you had something to tell us."

There was a pause before Cooper closed his mouth. "Right. Right. Please, sit down. This might take a while."

Brenda wrinkled her nose at the doughnuts and carefully pulled a chair a couple of feet away from the table before sitting in it. Gabriel waited till she was seated, then did the same.

Agent Cooper took a long sip of his coffee and started. "The night Laura Palmer was killed, it appears she made two appointments. In her diary she had written, 'Nervous about meeting J tonight'. I now believe that this was in reference to James Hurley."

Brenda thought back to the case file. James was Laura's secret boyfriend, who she was seeing behind the back of her official boyfriend, Bobby.

"She was nervous because she planned to tell him that she didn't want to see him anymore. Before she snuck out of the house she received a phone call."

Rosenfield recovered himself enough to jump in. "We believe it was Leo Johnson making the second appointment for sometime later that night."

Cooper went on, "Laura met James, was with him until 12:30 when, at the intersection of Sparkwood and 21, she jumped from the bike and ran into the woods. We believe that it was there that she met Jacques Renault, Leo Johnson, and Ronette Pulaski. Together, they drove to the foot of the trail leading to Jacques's cabin. They climbed the trail and were heard passing by the cabin of the Log Lady."

Log Lady? Brenda frowned. She needed to read the file again. This was one of the many downsides to coming into a case this late in the game. Fortunately she remembered everyone else; Ronette was the woman Laura had been abducted with, Renault was the man who had fingered Johnson for the murder, and Leo Johnson was the man behind virtually every crime in the history of the town, if the evidence so far was to be believed.

"They reached Jacques Renault's cabin at approximately one a.m. Drugs and alcohol were consumed; Laura was tied up and had sexual relations with both Leo and Jacques. Waldo the bird was let out of his cage and attacked Laura."

Which explained the scratches the autopsy had found on Laura's shoulder. Gabriel looked confused, probably because he hadn't had as much time to go over the file as Brenda.

Cooper continued. "Leo and Jacques fought. Jacques went outside and passed out. When he came to, Leo and the girls were gone. We believe Leo hiked back down the trail to his Corvette alone, leaving the girls behind."

Rosenfield explained, "The reason being, there was a third man."

Cooper noted, "Deputy Hawk found evidence of a third man outside the window of Jacque's cabin."

Presumably this man was other man who had had sex with Laura that night. And most likely was the one who tortured and killed her as well.

Rosenfield continued, "The third man took Laura and Ronette to the train car, where they were tied up -- Laura for the second time, Ronette for the first."

Train car: that was the crime scene no one had seen fit to fingerprint. Brenda sighed.

"Using a blunt object, the killer hit Ronette and knocked her unconscious," Cooper said. "He must have been so intent on killing Laura, he didn't realize that Ronette regained consciousness and escaped."

"Either he didn't know or he didn't care that she escaped," Rosenfield said flatly. "He made a small mound of dirt and put the half-heart necklace of Laura's on top."

Gabriel was looking confused again, but Brenda remembered reading about the necklace in the file. It was the kind that came in two parts; Laura had one half and Agent Cooper had hypothesized that the killer had the second half.

Rosenfield went on to describe the rest of the crime scene, including the fact that a small printed letter 'R' had been placed under Laura's fingernail (which was what tied this murder to that of Teresa Banks the year before), and the note, written in blood (AB negative, probably the killers -- damn, Brenda had forgotten to ask Fritz to get a sample of that to Tao. She'd have to remember tomorrow). The note read: FIRE WALK WITH ME. They also found a towel, soaked in the same blood type, and some scraps of paper five miles down the tracks from the train car where Laura was murdered.

At this point, Deputy Andy started crying. Rosenfield sighed and said, "I know, Andy. I know, I know, I know. It's what we call a real three-hankie crime."

Brenda shot him a glare and dug in her purse for a tissue. Andy took it, then stood up and said, "Albert Rozerfeld--" Gabriel snickered "--I don't like the way you talk smart about Sheriff Truman or anybody. You just shut your mouth."

Then he stormed out, which was probably for the best, since Rosenfield promptly started laughing.

Brenda rolled her eyes and spoke right over the laughter, "Thank you, Agent Cooper, that was a very helpful synopsis of the case so far. I have a couple of questions, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Cooper said with a smile. He claimed another doughnut. Jelly.

Brenda made herself focus on his face, rather than his sugar-filled hand. "What does One Eyed Jacks have to do with Laura's murder?"

The room suddenly got very silent and Brenda took the opportunity to glance around. Rosenfield looked confused but hid it well, Lucy looked confused and hid it poorly, and everyone else looked very, very guilty.

Sheriff Truman cleared his throat. "Ah, Jacques Renault worked at One Eyed Jacks as a dealer. And there was a piece of a Jacks token in Laura's stomach."

"And is that why Agent Cooper and--" Brenda checked the file "--Big Ed went undercover there last night?" She frowned a little. Big Ed again. Maybe he was getting so involved with this case because Laura was secretly seeing his nephew, James?

"No," Truman said, rubbing his eye in a gesture very reminiscent to the secret handshake Brenda had already seen him use. A little farther down the table, Deputy Andy, looking confused, did the secret handshake himself and Brenda groaned silently as she realized what it meant. She should have figured it out earlier.

"That was a personal favor, to me," Truman added, by way of explanation.

Brenda dragged her attention back to the matter at hand. "But he was gambling with funds from the FBI."

"Only temporarily," Cooper said. "I've returned the money with ten percent interest."

She considered that for a moment. "Okay, we'll come back to that later." After Provenza and Flynn had had a chance to check the place out, for example. "Back to the necklace. In your file, you noted that the other half of the necklace was probably in the possession of the killer. Have you made any progress in tracking it down?"

"Actually, we have." Cooper pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and set it on the table. "As it turns out, James Hurley had the necklace. He got it from Dr. Jacoby, Laura's psychologist. It was in a coconut."

Brenda sighed. Of course it was. "Have you questioned Jacoby about this?"

"He was knocked unconscious with a hard blow to his head a couple of days ago and is still less than coherent."

"He thinks Laura is still alive," Truman explained.

"Ah." Brenda made a note to mention the necklace when she went to interview the good doctor. "Back to James Hurley then. The drugs that were found in his bike -- do you have any idea where they might have come from?"

"We've always suspected that Leo Johnson was running drugs," Truman said. "We just couldn't ever prove it."

"And you think Hurley is one of Johnson's dealers?"

Truman and Cooper exchanged a glance. "No, but until we can figure out where the drugs came from, we think the safest place for James is in jail."

Interesting. Brenda wondered what James would do if she gave him the secret handshake gesture. "Back to Laura -- do you have any idea who might have killed Jacques Renault?"

"None," Cooper said with a sigh.

"The 'hospital' here doesn't have security," Rosenfield said with a sneer and for once, Brenda couldn't blame him. What kind of hospital let someone walk in and simply kill a patient?

Brenda sat back in her chair and finally allowed herself to ask the questions she'd been wanting to ask ever since she arrived in this town. "Sheriff Truman, how many murders do you typically have in a year?"

Truman cleared his throat and didn't meet her eye as he answered, "None."

"And major instances of arson?"

"None."

"Gunshot wounds? Other than hunting accidents, of course."

"None."

"Arrests for drug possession?"

"A few."

Brenda glanced at the folder. "For quantities equivalent to six ounces of cocaine?"

Truman winced. "None."

Brenda nodded. "Now, let me just make sure I'm understanding this correctly: in the last week you've had two murders, at least three attempted murders, at least two cases of aggravated assault, one case of drug possession with the intent to distribute, and let's not forget the fact that two people were locked in a building before someone tried to burn it down." Everyone but her team and Rosenfield were exchanging uneasy glances. "Am I the only one who thinks that some, if not all, of these crimes might be related?"

"That does seem possible," Agent Cooper allowed.

Brenda closed the case file, stood up, and crossed her arms. "Now, I had planned on being nicer about all of this, but this town seems to have lost its mind and if we don't start making some progress immediately, more people are likely to be killed. Agent Cooper, I'm going to need a full list of every person you interviewed with as much detail from each interview as you can remember. Sheriff Truman, I need Ronette Pulaski, Leo Johnson, Dr. Jacoby, Shelly Johnson, and anyone else who has been injured in the last three days put on a closed ward with a guard at all times. No one goes in or out of that ward without my say-so. There needs to be a second guard at Leo Johnson's door. Again, no one goes in or out unless I okay it."

The sheriff was nodding, as well he should be, since all of this should have been done long before Brenda came into town. If it had, Jacques Renault might still be alive.

But she wasn't done yet. "I also need warrants for financial records for the Packard Sawmill, for the Palmers, and for Benjamin Horne." There, Daniels would appreciate that. "If any known criminals have come into town within the last week, I'll need to know that as well.

"Finally, I'll be here at eight tomorrow morning to interview every person who worked on this case, including deputies. I'll also want to interview James Hurley. I'll be happy to go to the hospital to interview whichever person or persons are placed on guard duty. Any questions?"

A whole table of men stared back at her.

She smiled. "Excellent. Thank you, thank you so much."

Grabbing her purse, she turned and walked out, trusting Gabriel and Fritz to follow.

Halfway to the outside door, Fritz said, "So I guess we're giving up on that whole 'incompetent consultant' plan?"

"I'm afraid so. Sorry."

"No, that's fine. I actually told them that you were one of the best the FBI had."

Brenda stopped and stared at him. "What?"

Fritz rolled his eyes. "Come on, Brenda. Do you really think you could pull off the dumb blonde act for as long as this case is going to last? It could take weeks."

"Oh, Lord, I hope not," Brenda said, starting up again. "It's only been a few hours and already I'm ready to go home."

"Well, just remember that you're here to solve the murder of Laura Palmer," Fritz said as Gabriel held the door for them both. "You don't have to solve the other eighteen crimes currently plaguing the town."

"Unfortunately, I'm starting to think that everything going on here is connected. That or Twin Peaks has the worst luck of any town on earth. Thank you, Sergeant," she added as Gabriel unlocked the car door and held it for her. "I think we should discuss this further over some dinner."

"There's a diner that I've heard is pretty good," Fritz offered.

"Sounds good to me," Brenda said, climbing into the car. Gabriel shut the door, muffling his and Fritz's voices as they squabbled over who would get to drive. Brenda just closed her eyes and rested her head back against the car seat.

She really wished she'd taken a doughnut.

ooo

The Double R Diner proved to be empty enough to get a table without waiting, but crowded enough that they couldn't discuss an open murder investigation. Especially considering the town was small enough that anything that they said would undoubtedly be known by every Twin Peaks citizen within two hours of it being overheard.

Instead, they made small talk. Well, Gabriel made small talk, while Brenda and Fritz avoided looking or speaking to each other. Part of the problem was that Fritz and Gabriel had taken opposite sides of the booth, leaving Brenda with the decision of who she was going to sit next to. After the whole dresser incident earlier, Brenda certainly wasn't going to sit next to Fritz. Unfortunately, that meant she was stuck staring at Fritz while at the same time trying to ignore the fact that her close proximity to David made her skin tingle with anticipation. All in all, it was one of the least comfortable dinners she'd ever endured.

The situation grew a bit less tense when they returned to the hotel, thanks to the fact that they could now focus on work. Gabriel went to his own room, which was next door to Brenda's, to get a second chair and while waiting for his return Brenda asked Fritz where his room was. "Next to Agent Cooper's," Fritz said.

Brenda nodded. "Did you know Agent Cooper before this case?"

"A little. He has a reputation in DC."

"I'll bet," Brenda said dryly. Fortunately Gabriel's return derailed the rest of the conversation.

Once they were all settled, Brenda started off with, "I know what the secret handshake means." She paused for dramatic effect and said, "This town has a secret society."

Gabriel and Fritz both started laughing. When she didn't join in, Gabriel said, "Really?"

"Deputy Andy is also a member," Brenda said. "Which probably means everyone in the sheriff's office is, with the possible exception of Lucy."

"From what I've seen of this town so far, Lucy isn't a member," Fritz said.

"I gotta agree," Gabriel said.

"And yet, after a week, Agent Cooper is going on secret society missions." Brenda sighed. "I hate this town."

"So let's get out of it as soon as possible," Fritz said. "Where are we in the investigation?"

"Well, let's see: based on the Flesh World ads, Laura was working as a prostitute and there's a brothel just across the border. Those two facts might be related. Both she and Ronette were listed in Flesh World, with a PO box that belongs to Jacques Renault, which probably means whether or not they worked at the brothel, he was working as their pimp. Jacques and Leo shared the girls the night of Laura's death, so either they were working together with regards to the prostitution, or there is some other connection between the two. Laura was doing cocaine and her boyfriend James Hurley is in prison on suspicion of dealing cocaine."

"Except that she was about to break up with James," Gabriel said.

"That's a good point." Brenda considered that for a moment. "The sheriff's office searched James's bike for drugs based on an anonymous tip. If it is a frame, it isn't a very complicated one."

"Who would want to frame James Hurley?" Fritz asked.

"The obvious answer would be Laura's official boyfriend, Bobby Briggs," Gabriel said. "And if he knew about her affair with James, it might be reason enough to kill her."

"Not to mention all the other men she was having sex with," Fritz said dryly.

"We'll have to talk to him tomorrow," Brenda said wearily. "D- Sergeant Gabriel, could you start a list of tomorrow's interviews? We'll prioritize them once we know what we're dealing with."

"Sure thing." Gabriel pulled out his notebook and began writing.

"Who else would have a motive so far?" Brenda asked. Without the rest of her team to play devil's advocate, she took the role herself. "Leo Johnson and Jacques Renault?"

"Presumably Laura was making them money, and even if she wasn't, they were obviously getting something from her," Fritz said.

"But she had a drug habit, probably an expensive drug habit," Brenda pointed out.

"It's not quite as expensive if Johnson's the one bringing the drugs in," Fritz said.

Gabriel cut in before Brenda could answer. "You know what I want to know? How does a girl like Laura -- a straight-A student, popular, active in her community, from a good family -- how does a girl like that end up hooked on drugs and selling herself? What could make a girl like that throw her life away?"

"That's a really good question, Sergeant," Brenda said. She considered for a moment. "Mental illness, maybe? Depression or bipolar disorder?"

"Abuse in the home," Fritz offered. "Or maybe she was molested when she was younger. A lot of survivors of childhood sexual assault become self-destructive, especially once puberty hits." Brenda and Gabriel stared at him. "What? I wasn't made a profiler because of my good looks, you know."

"Maybe it was just too difficult being perfect," Brenda said. "Just look at her list of volunteer activities: Meals on Wheels, helping Josie Packard with her English, tutoring Johnny Horne. Plus she was a cheerleader, was on several school committees, and she had extra duties as the queen of the homecoming court. Mix in not one but two boyfriends and all of the work necessary to be a straight-A student, and you have a girl under serious pressure."

Now it was Brenda's turn to be stared at. She frowned back. "Until we know for sure what motivated her, we should keep all possibilities in mind. And we should get back to the list of interviews for tomorrow."

Fritz smiled a bit, but said, "What about her best friend? Donna, I think?"

"Yes, definitely. Also, Leo Johnson's wife. We need to see what she knew about her husband's businesses."

"And, of course, all of the folks at the sheriff's office," Gabriel said.

Brenda groaned. She'd forgotten about those. "Read the list so far, please, Sergeant."

"Sheriff Truman, Deputy Andy, Deputy Hawk, James Hurley, Bobby Briggs, Donna, and Leo Johnson's wife."

"Not to mention Leo Johnson himself if he wakes up, and I'm assuming you want to interview Agent Cooper as well."

"Yes, I will. I think that's enough for one day. We'll do the sheriff's office first, so whoever is there, plus James, then everyone at the hospital, then Donna, Bobby, and Agent Cooper last, but only if we haven't caught him at the station or the hospital. What do you think?"

"I think you're the boss," Gabriel said, closing his notebook.

"Are you going to want me to sit in on the interviews, or do you have another job in mind for me?" Fritz asked.

"Well, I will need you to get a DNA sample from that bloody towel they found near the murder site, but I'll also need to you to be in the interviews." Brenda took a deep breath; she didn't think Fritz was going to like this. "I need you to stand behind Gabriel and myself and, well, give the secret handshake."

Fritz stared at her. "You mean you want me to sit in on every interview, just so I can rub my eyebrow?"

Brenda tried her best smile. "Yes?"

Fritz rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Fine. But unless you think I need more prep for eyebrow rubbing, I'm going to bed. I've been working on this since we got word of Agent Cooper's shooting this morning."

"Fair enough," Brenda said brightly. "Sleep tight."

"Goodnight, Agent Howard," Gabriel added as Fritz headed for the door. Fritz just waved aimlessly in response.

"How about you, Sergeant? I know you had a late night last night." Brenda was proud at how casual her voice sounded.

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to spend some more time looking at the file," Gabriel said. "There was a lot of stuff I didn't understand at the meeting. For example, what's a Log Lady?"

"I have no idea," Brenda admitted. "Hopefully not some poor woman the town thinks looks like a log." She sat down next to him, close enough that they could both see the file. "Where do you want to start?"

"How about the crime scene. How did they find it?"

Brenda flipped back a few pages and read: 'Deputy Hawk was first to discover the crime scene using the tracking skills inherent to all of our Land's noble native peoples.'

"It doesn't really say that, does it?" Brenda pointed out the passage and let him read it. Gabriel shook his head. "I'm guessing that's one more question for Deputy Hawk, right?"

"Definitely. Now the crime scene itself is an abandoned boxcar just west of the Washington-Idaho border. They didn't dust for prints, but they did find some pieces of twine that had been used to tie up the girls, a small mound of dirt with a necklace on it, a note with 'Fire Walk With Me' written on it in blood -- type AB negative -- and, let's see, some traces of soap that was also found on Laura's body. The FBI's forensics team thinks the killer washed his hands before wrapping the body up and dumping it."

"Any towns nearby?"

"None within ten miles." Brenda rubbed her eyes and added softly, "No gags, because there was no one who could hear them scream."

"How do you think the killer found the boxcar? It sounds pretty isolated."

Brenda shrugged. "My guess is he stumbled across it sometime earlier and it happened to be a convenient kill site. It's unlikely he found it after picking up the girls."

"That's another question: how did our killer get the girls to come with him?" Gabriel considered his own question for a moment before saying, "There's no defensive wounds, so either they were incapacitated when he found them or they knew him and went willingly."

"Considering he had to knock Ronette unconscious, I'm guessing it's the latter. Maybe he's another john," Brenda suggested.

"Or maybe a friend or a family member? One of Laura's boyfriends?" Gabriel offered.

"Fortunately we're talking to both of them tomorrow." Brenda rubbed her eyes again. They were starting to get sore and gritty from exhaustion. Suddenly something occurred to her: "You know, I forgot to ask whether the third man had sex with Ronette as well."

"From the description Cooper and Rosenfield gave of the situation tonight, I doubt it, unless he got his kicks from raping an unconscious girl."

"I agree," Brenda said thoughtfully. "Which means that Ronette was collateral damage. This attack was specifically geared towards Laura."

"But it also means that Ronette must have seen Laura's killer."

"That is an excellent point, Sergeant," Brenda said with a smile. "One that I hadn't thought of." Suddenly she frowned. "And I doubt our friendly local sheriff had thought of it either. It's a miracle Ronette is still alive."

That unpleasant thought sat in the air for several seconds before Gabriel cleared his throat. "So, the case?"

"Right," Brenda said, grateful for the distraction. "We should start making a list of where everyone was at the time of Laura's death. And leave a lot of blank space -- I'm sure we're going to find a lot more persons of interest before this investigation is done."

They spent an hour or so working on people's alibis, though they ended up with more questions than answers when all was said and done. Most would be easily cleared up in the interviews, but every interview took time.

Then they started on a list of everyone connected to the case and started listing possible motives. It wasn't the most efficient way to spend their time, but there were so many people who were potentially involved in this case, and so many names to remember, that they both decided it was worth it just to fully familiarize themselves with the case. At least it was better than flash cards.

It was well after midnight when Brenda tossed down her pen and declared, "That's it, I'm done. My brain is going on strike until tomorrow."

Gabriel grinned. "I don't blame it. We're definitely putting in overtime on this one."

"And I didn't even get a doughnut as a reward. Although..." She got up and started poking around on her dresser. After a few seconds she gave a cry of triumph and pulled out a plastic bag. "How about a midnight snack?"

"Yes, please," Gabriel said. "Please tell me they included forks."

They had, and soon Brenda and Gabriel were sitting at the table, fully enjoying a couple of slices of the Best Cherry Pie in Fifty States.

Once they'd both had a chance to savor the first couple of bites, Gabriel asked, "Do you think Flynn and Provenza got in all right?" The two lieutenants had called halfway through the alibi project, and had gotten stern instructions on what they should bring to wear. 'No Hawaiian shirts' had featured prominently in Brenda's instructions to Provenza. She'd also told them that while the FBI would eventually reimburse the hotel room, plane tickets, and meals, any gambling they did would be strictly on their own dime.

"I doubt they've landed yet," Brenda said. "But I'm sure they'll be fine. The important thing will be to keep Fritz from seeing them until they've done everything they can do."

"How do you think they got Pope to give them the time off?"

Brenda groaned. "I'd really rather not think about that, thank you."

He smirked and ate another bite of pie. "So what do you think of your first out-of-state trip?" Brenda asked.

Gabriel considered that for a moment as his lips worked over the tines of his plastic fork. "It's different," he finally said. "Pretty. I've never seen trees like this in real life. But, honestly? I already miss LA." He shivered. "For one thing, this place is cold."

"That's the humidity," Brenda said with a sigh. "The one thing I didn't miss from Atlanta. Well, that and the mosquitoes."

"We have mosquitoes in LA."

Brenda snorted. "You haven't seen mosquitoes until you've lived in the south. They grow to the size of quarters and move through the air in swarms."

"Really," Gabriel asked skeptically. "That sounds kind of dangerous."

"I usually got bitten often enough in the first week of mosquito season that my body stopped reacting to them for the rest of the summer."

"I didn't know you could do that."

"You can't in LA. And you should feel thankful for that."

"I'll try to remember that," Gabriel said with a smirk.

"You do that," Brenda answered. She pushed away her take-out box, now filled with nothing more than a few crumbs and a mostly-scraped away dab of cherry pie filling. "I'm beat," she said as she stretched.

"Me, too," Gabriel answered. "At least you can flop over onto the bed. I have to go back to my room."

"Your room is next door," Brenda said in amusement.

"Still too far away."

They stared at the bed for a moment, until the emotion in the air went from comfortable to anticipatory. Gabriel abruptly stood up. "Guess I should get myself to bed."

Brenda smiled up at him. "Good night, David."

"Good night, Brenda."

Brenda's smile grew a bit at that, and as she curled up under her blankets that night, she let the sweet memory of her name on his lips lull her to sleep.

ooo

The next day got off to a much smoother start, probably because both Brenda and Gabriel were finally fully up-to-date with the case file. They began with Deputy Andy, who had nothing new to share (except that he had been with Lucy, the sheriff's department receptionist who was also his girlfriend, the night that Laura died), then moved on to Sheriff Truman, whose lack of new information was far more disappointing. Though the interview did pick up a bit when Brenda mentioned the Packard Sawmill. "Josie Packard is the owner," Truman said, and once again his voice got softer as he said her name.

Brenda shook her head. "Are you and Mrs. Packard dating, or do you just have a crush on her?"

Truman surprised the heck out of her by suddenly laughing. "Is that something all of you FBI folks can do, or did we just get lucky?"

"Excuse me?" Brenda asked cautiously.

"First time Coop saw Josie and I together, he asked us how long we'd been dating. He said he knew because of our body language."

"Oh," Brenda said. She leaned forward a little and murmured, "In my case, I think it's less of an FBI thing and more of a woman thing."

Truman looked a little uncomfortable at the idea, so Brenda just shook her head and asked her last question, "Is Mrs. Packard the meeting you had that night? The one you couldn't give us details for?" Truman nodded sheepishly. "Thank you so much," Brenda said, though she certainly wished she could say something much less polite. "Now I'd like to see James Hurley. Could you move him to the interview room, please?"

"We don't really have an interview room," Truman said. "If you want, I can put him in the conference room. That's what Agent Cooper's been using."

"That'll be fine, thank you," Brenda said, quickly adding, "You do have a tape recorder, right?"

"Uh, sure," Truman answered, looking confused. Which undoubtedly meant the previous interviews hadn't been taped.

Well, that was one thing Brenda could fix -- informal interviews with the local law enforcement didn't need to be recorded, but when interviewing a juvenile charged with a serious crime, Brenda definitely wanted a tape for the court case. "Could you please get that recorder for me? With some blank tapes? And then bring James to the conference room? Thank you, thank you so much."

As soon as Truman was gone, Fritz asked, "Do you want me to do the eyebrow thing with Hurley?"

"Yes, please," Brenda said as she headed for the conference. "Do it with everyone else we talk to today, except Agent Cooper. Thank you."

"How many members do you think this secret society has?" Gabriel asked.

"In a town this size? Probably not too many. And I'm guessing all of the members are related by blood, marriage, or profession. Oh, heck," she added as she reached the conference room, only to see another doughnut buffet laid out.

Fritz grinned and reached for one with chocolate frosting and nuts.

"You know, I don't even like doughnuts," Gabriel said. "But they just look so good."

"I know," Brenda sighed. She moved around the table, keeping her distance from the treats, until she reached the gap between the doughnuts and the coffee. Positioning her purse so that it was square between her and temptation, she sat down. Gabriel immediately sat down beside her. "Actually, Sergeant, could you sit back just a bit? And try to look stern."

"O-kay," he said as he settled his chair back a few inches. "Can I ask why?"

"Judging from the fact that Mr. Hurley's address is the same as his uncle's, I'm guessing he hasn't had much of a maternal figure in his life." Brenda quickly buttoned up her jacket, and reached into her purse for a hair clip. "Might as well give him one, if just for a few minutes."

By the time James was escorted into the room, Brenda was prim and proper and flanked by two imposing looking men. Sheriff Truman sat James down with more gentleness than Brenda would have expected him to show to a suspected drug dealer, and nodded to Brenda before leaving.

"Hello, James," Brenda said warmly.

"Uh, hi," he answered, looking nervously at Fritz and Gabriel. His eyes locked over her right shoulder, which was where Fritz was standing. A moment later, he casually dragged his finger from his eyebrow to his cheekbone.

Interesting. Though that did explain why Truman was being so nice to the boy.

Brenda started the tape. "James, could you state your name for the record?"

James looked confused, but leaned forward a bit and said, "James Hurley, ma'am."

"That's perfect," Brenda said with a reassuring smile. "Thank you. Now, James, you were dating Laura Palmer, is that right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"But everyone else in town thought that she was dating Bobby Briggs."

"That's cause everyone expected her to, but she didn't really like him. And Bobby had someone else on the side, too."

Brenda blinked. This was the first she'd ever heard of this. "Really? Do you know who?"

"No, ma'am, but he's been coming late to football practice for weeks, and he wasn't spending that time with Laura."

Very, very interesting. She'd have to look into that. But for now, she focused on the matter at hand. "James, can you tell me about the night that Laura died?"

He immediately launched into a story that sounded so rehearsed that she would have been suspicious if this were the day after the murder. Unfortunately, after a week it was likely he'd told this exact same story so many times that he couldn't help but sound tired of it. In any event, it was functionally the same as the story Agent Cooper had told: James had picked up Laura at 9:30. They'd driven around for a while, Laura told James she couldn't see him anymore, refused to explain why when he asked, then at around 12:30 she'd jumped off the bike at the light at Sparkwood and 21st and run off into the woods. That was the last he'd seen of her.

"And what did you do after that?" Brenda asked.

"Went to my uncle's place," James said. He suddenly seemed to find something very fascinating on the tabletop as he added, "My mom's out of town."

"And your uncle is Big Ed, right?"

"Right. He owns Big Ed's Gas Farm."

Brenda smiled and leaned forward a bit, as if ready to tell a confidence. "James, do you know Laura's cousin Maddie?"

The effect was dramatic: James's eyes went really wide, his face went white, and he sent a desperate look in Fritz's direction. "James," Brenda said, her voice stern. "James!" Slowly he turned back to look at her. Brenda reached out and touched his hand, and his eyes misted up. "James," she said gently. "I think you'd better tell me everything."

And what a story James had to tell. By the time he was finished, Brenda was struggling to conceal her disbelief, Gabriel had scooted back forward to the table so he could write more quickly, and James himself looked as beaten as a wrung-out washcloth. It took Brenda a moment to recover before she could say, "Okay, James, that was very good. Thank you. Can I just summarize what you told me, just to make sure I got everything right?"

James nodded wearily.

"Thank you." Brenda took a deep breath. "First, you are now dating Donna Hayward, but you only started dating after Laura's death." A nod. "You and Donna decided to secretly investigate Laura's death yourselves and in the course of your investigation, you found a series of tapes that Laura made for Dr. Jacoby." Another nod. "One tape was missing and you brought Maddie into your investigation to help distract Jacoby while you searched his office." James swallowed hard, but nodded again. "You dressed Maddie up in Laura's clothes and a blonde wig, and had her call Jacoby to convince him to leave his office to come meet her."

"She didn't give him her real location," James said quietly.

"Of course not," Brenda said gently. "But how did you convince him that she was really Laura?"

"We made a videotape of her holding today's paper. With the wig and all...she looked just like Laura. It was kind of scary."

"I can imagine." Brenda patted his hand again. "So, once Jacoby left to meet Maddie, you and Donna searched his office and found the missing tape and the other half of Laura's necklace hidden in a hollowed-out coconut. You took both of them with you and went back to pick up Maddie so you could go to Donna's house and listen to the tape."

James was definitely tearing up now and all he managed to do was nod.

"James," Brenda said, her voice soft and hypnotic. "What did the tape say?" He shook his head. "James. James, tell me about the tape."

Suddenly he took a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice was low and fast. "She said I was sweet, but dumb, and that she was tired of sweet. She said that she'd been sleeping with some guy who she thinks was trying to kill her and that she got off on it. She said he drove a red Cor-corvette." His voice stumbled over the last word and he buried his face in his hands and began to cry.

Brenda found herself swallowing back a lump in her throat, and she gently patted James on the back of the head. "Thank you, James," she said softly. "You did very well."

The door burst open and Sheriff Truman stormed in, looking like an angry papa bear. Brenda stopped the tape but kept patting James's head as she said, "Sheriff, I think James is ready to go back to his cell now."

Truman kept glaring at all of them, even as he leaned back out the door and called for Deputy Andy. As soon as Andy led James out of the room, Truman crossed his arms and growled, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Brenda said wearily. "Just got him to tell the truth."

Truman's eyes widened. "What truth?"

"You should probably listen to the tape," Brenda said. "It'd take too long to tell and, honestly, I doubt you'd believe me. I hardly believe it myself and I heard it straight from James's mouth."

Truman immediately reached for the recorder, but Brenda stopped him with a question: "Does anyone in Twin Peaks drive a red Corvette?"

"The only person I know who drives anything like that is Leo Johnson," Truman said.

"Of course," Brenda said with a sigh. "Sheriff, we're going to have to search Johnson's house."

"Well, actually, Agent Cooper and I were just about to head out there," Truman said. "Leo was shot in his house, so we don't need to wait for a warrant."

"Oh, bother," Brenda said, rubbing her eyes. Just one more thing she didn't have time for today. "Fritz, do you think you could go with them?"

"Sure. But what about the..." He rubbed his eyebrow.

"Don't worry about that, I think I have it covered. Thank you." Truman took the tape from the recorder and a second later he and Fritz headed out the door. Brenda called after them, "Thank you so much."

Truman popped his head in a second later. "By the way, you asked about any convicted criminals who've come into town in the last week? The only one we know of is Hank Jennings, Norma's husband."

"Norma?"

"She owns the Double R Cafe."

"And has anyone interviewed Mr. Jennings about the recent goings on in Twin Peaks?"

"No, ma'am." At least the sheriff had the grace to look embarrassed by that fact.

"Thank you, Sheriff Truman. We'll look into it."

As soon as he was gone, Brenda rubbed her sore eyes and sighed.

"You okay, Chief?" Gabriel asked as he closed his notebook.

"I'm fine, Sergeant, thank you. It's just...underneath the sweet exterior of this town lies a core as dank and rotten as the depths of hell."

"Amen," Gabriel said quietly.

With an effort, Brenda pulled herself together. "So what do you think Sergeant? Lunch at the Double R before or after the hospital?"

"I'm not really hungry at the moment, Chief," Gabriel said.

"I'm not particularly hungry either," she admitted as she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door. "The hospital it is."

They had a bit of a dilemma when they reached the hospital, as the sheriff's office was so shorthanded that a nurse had been deputized to guard Leo Johnson's door. At least Hawk was the man assigned to guard the door to the closed ward -- hopefully that meant the nurse wouldn't have much to do.

Unfortunately, that also meant that someone was going to have to take Hawk's place while he was interviewed, and the list of acceptable choices pretty much consisted of Gabriel. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked as Brenda shooed him to Hawk's chair.

"I'll be fine," she said for the third time. "I can take my own notes, you know. I didn't always have my own sergeant."

"Yes, but..." He glanced at Hawk and lowered his voice. "Do you really think you should be alone in this town? The people here are kind of crazy."

"I'm sure Deputy Hawk isn't one of those people. I'll be back soon." And, before he could protest again, she hurried Hawk down the hallway to an empty room.

This room, more than anything else Brenda had seen in Twin Peaks, emphasized just how small this town was. The walls were covered with cheap pine paneling, the lights overhead were flickering constantly, and the linoleum on the floor was peeling in the corners. Pity Mr. Horne didn't bother to invest in the hospital, Brenda thought as she delicately perched herself on the side of the bed. "So, Mr. Hawk," she started with a smile.

"Just plain Hawk is fine, ma'am."

"Okay then, Hawk. I just have a few questions for you." As she spoke, she carefully ran her finger from her temple to her cheekbone. Hawk's hand flinched, but he didn't lift it from his side. Brenda decided to take some comfort from the fact that at least one of Twin Peak's deputies was savvier than a high school student.

She also decided to cut right to the chase. "How exactly did you find Jacques Renault's cabin?" Hawk opened his mouth. "And the word 'tracking' better not pass your lips."

The corner of his mouth quirked at that, and he suddenly decided to take a seat after all. "The National Forest Service owns most of the land around here," he said. "When the land was claimed by the government, all private property had to be registered to keep it from being taken. And, since then, any houses built in the National Forest have to get special permits. I just went through the records and checked all of the cabins till I found one with red curtains."

"Why red curtains?"

"Agent Cooper told us that was what we should look for. I think he got it from the ad in Flesh World."

"And the crime scene? How did you find the boxcar?"

Hawk shrugged. "The transient population knows it's there. I go by once a week or so to roust anyone who looks like they might cause problems."

Brenda shook her head in disbelief. "And why didn't you tell any of this to Agent Cooper?"

Hawk grinned. "He was getting a kick out of that whole 'Indian Tracker' shtick. I didn't want to disappoint him."

"That Indian Tracker shtick could get this case thrown out of court," Brenda said sternly.

"Don't worry, I've testified before," Hawk said. "I kept records of everything I did."

"I'll be looking at those records later," Brenda said. Hawk just shrugged again. "Now, about this secret society--"

Hawk suddenly tensed up until he looked like he was carved from granite. "What secret society?"

"And we were doing so well," Brenda sighed. "You know, the secret society that you, Agent Cooper, Sheriff Truman, Deputy Andy, James Hurley, and I suspect Big Ed, all belong to."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hawk said stonily.

Brenda frowned. She'd seen that expression before in other suspects and she knew she wasn't going to get anything more out of him. Unfortunately, he would probably tell the others that she'd asked about it, which meant she likely lost any chance she might have had to figure out exactly what this secret society did.

Damn, she hated when she miscalculated.

"Okay, Hawk, just one more question: where were you the night Laura Palmer died?"

Hawk frowned. "At home, with my wife. Am I a suspect?"

"No," Brenda said honestly. "We're just trying to figure out where everyone was that night. There are so many potential suspects and witnesses in this case that we've just started asking everyone where they were, just in case they might have seen something and not realized what it was."

"Oh," Hawk said.

"Do you have any questions for me? No? Well, then, I'll let you get back to your post." Brenda stood up and held out her hand. Hawk took it and shook it firmly. "Thank you," she said, and for once, she actually meant it.

"Learn anything useful?" Gabriel whispered as they entered the closed ward, leaving Hawk back in his chair.

"That the 'inherent tracking ability of this Land's noble natives' is a euphemism for slogging through government records."

"Shocking," Gabriel said dryly in his normal voice. "Okay, who do you want to tackle first?"

"Might as well see if Mr. Johnson's awake."

He wasn't, but Dr. Jacoby, Laura's psychologist, was. Unfortunately, Dr. Jacoby refused to accept that Laura really was dead, and thus refused to tell them anything useful. When pressed to provide an alibi for the night that she died, he pleaded a headache, closed his eyes, and refused to open them again.

"You ever have a day when you feel like nothing useful is being done?" Gabriel asked as they went across the hall to Shelly Johnson's room.

"I certainly do, Sergeant," Brenda said as she gently knocked on the door and opened it. Before the door swung all the way open, Brenda distinctly heard a small voice say, "Bobby?"

"Then again," Brenda murmured, turning on the tape recorder and putting it in her purse. Shelly wasn't really a suspect, so there was no need to make her aware of the fact that this conversation was going to be recorded. "Sergeant, I need you to stay out here. Make sure no one comes in until I leave."

Gabriel nodded and moved to stand directly in front of the door as Brenda let it swing shut behind her.

"Oh, sorry," the girl on the bed said. "I thought you were someone else."

"I'm guessing that someone is named Bobby?" Brenda asked with a smile.

The girl blushed and nodded. "But you can't tell anyone," she said quickly. "No one's supposed to know."

"And by 'no one', are you referring to your husband, Mrs. Johnson?"

The poor girl immediately froze, her pretty face filled with abject terror. "It's okay, Shelly," Brenda said quickly. "I won't tell him anything, I promise." She pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down close enough that she could gently rest her hand on Shelly's arm. "I know something about bad marriages and about men who seem like Prince Charming until they get that ring on your finger. I know that Leo Johnson is a bad man, and I will protect you from him. But to do that, I need you to tell me everything. Don't leave anything out, okay? If you do, I won't be able to help you."

Shelly's eyes dropped to her free hand, which was picking little fuzzballs off of her blanket. "Leo...he hits me," she whispered.

Brenda's heart ached. "Why didn't you tell someone about this? Your parents, maybe?"

"They were real mad when I dropped out of school to marry Leo. My mom says that I've made my bed and now I have to sleep in it."

Brenda saw red, and it was only with the greatest of efforts that she managed to keep her voice even as she asked, "Has Leo hurt you recently?" Shelly nodded. "Can you tell me when?"

"A few days ago." Brenda waited and after a moment Shelly sniffed and added, "He was mad at me because he couldn't find one of his shirts."

This was where all of that time spent reading that case file paid off, because Brenda could clearly remember one of Leo Johnson's shirts showing up in Jacques Renault's apartment. "Could you describe the shirt?"

Shelly looked confused, but said, "Yeah, it was denim. Long-sleeved."

Brenda gave her a piercing stare. "Anything else?"

It took less than five seconds for Shelly to break. "There was blood on it. A lot of blood."

Definitely the one from the file, though that didn't explain how it got from Leo Johnson's house to Jacques Renault's apartment. "What happened to the shirt, Shelly?"

She lasted two seconds this time. Maybe. "I gave it to Bobby."

"Bobby Briggs?"

Shelly nodded.

"How long have you and Bobby been seeing each other?"

"A few months now. He said he would protect me from Leo."

"But I'm guessing that wasn't the case."

Shelly shook her head.

"Shelly, what were you doing at the mill when it burned?"

The girl's eyes welled up and she had to clear her throat before she could speak. "Leo took me there."

Brenda kept her voice soft as she asked, "Why did he do that?"

"He found out about me and Bobby and he...he said that an unfaithful wife didn't deserve to live." She sniffed, but kept on going, her voice getting louder and louder with each word. "He tied me up to a post and poured gasoline all around and then he left. He left! And then the fire started and I knew I was going to die and--"

Shelly broke down into tears at this point, and Brenda pulled her into an embrace. "It's okay," Brenda said softly. "It's okay. You're safe here. He can't hurt you anymore."

Shelly sobbed hysterically for several minutes until Brenda's soothing litany of 'it's all right, he can't hurt you anymore' finally broke through. Once she calmed down and sat back in the bed, Brenda handed her a tissue which Shelly used to wipe her red eyes and blotchy face before blowing her nose. "I'm so sorry to ask this of you, but I do have a few more questions," Brenda said gently. "Would you like to answer them now, or would you rather I came back later?"

"If I answer your questions, will you let Bobby in to see me?" Shelly asked, her voice still watery.

"Absolutely," Brenda promised.

"Then I'll answer your questions now."

"Thank you, Shelly." Brenda handed over another tissue before asking, "Can you tell me how you got out of the fire?"

"Catherine was there, Catherine Martell. She cut me down."

Brenda frowned, mentally going through the case file so far. Catherine Martell was the sister-in-law of the owner of the saw mill, Josie Packard. Word around town was that Catherine was furious that her brother had left the mill to Josie rather than her. "Did Mrs. Martell say why she was there?" Shelly shook her head and dabbed at her eyes again with the tissue. "Okay, okay, that's fine. Just a couple more questions, okay?" Shelly nodded. "First, have you ever heard the name Jacques Renault?"

Shelly frowned. "Uh-uh. Am I supposed to?"

"No, not at all," Brenda said. "I just needed to check. Now then, do you have any idea where Leo might have been the night Laura died?"

"He was supposed to be driving back from Butte," Shelly said. "But he got home too early the next day, so I don't know."

"Okay, thank you, Shelly. You've done really well."

"And Bobby?"

"I'll tell Deputy Hawk that Bobby should be allowed in when he comes to visit you."

Shelly smiled, making her look even younger than her seventeen years. "Thanks, Mrs.-- I don't know your name."

"Brenda Leigh Johnson," Brenda said, picking up her purse. "And you're very welcome. Thank you. Thank you so much."

And with that, she made her escape.

The door was open a crack when she stepped outside, which was definitely not how she left it, but looking at the fury on David's face she couldn't blame him. Frankly, she'd just be happy to not have to repeat the entire conversation. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it," Gabriel gritted out. "Will it be enough to keep Leo Johnson from getting bail?"

"Maybe. It depends on the judge and on how believable he finds her testimony." She glanced at Leo Johnson's door as they passed it. "With any luck, we'll never have to find out."

On the way out, Brenda asked Deputy Hawk to call her if Bobby showed up for a visit with Shelly and to delay the boy until she could get there. She wanted to be sure to get to him before he found out exactly how much Shelly had revealed.

As they turned the corner towards the stairway, they bumped into a thin, nervous-looking girl with dark, curly hair. "I'm sorry," Brenda said, but she was speaking to the girl's back, as the nervous teenager was already running away. Brenda and Gabriel exchanged a glance and followed at a slightly more sedate pace.

They heard the arguing from half a hallway away. "But my dad works here!"

"Sorry, Donna," Hawk's voice said. "No visitors."

Brenda picked up the pace. "Donna?" she said, as soon as the girl and the deputy were in sight. "Donna Hayward?"

The girl's eyes widened and she looked up and down the hall as if trying to find an escape route. Brenda barely managed not to roll her eyes in return. It'd been a long, emotionally exhausting morning, and she really didn't have the time or energy to cater to someone who'd clearly read too many Nancy Drew novels in her spare time. "I'll take that as a yes," she said dryly. "I'm Brenda Leigh Johnson, with the FBI. I have a few questions for you." Donna still looked like she was going to start running. "Now!" Brenda snapped.

That did it. Donna lowered her head and followed as Brenda led her back to the empty room. This time Gabriel followed, though he stayed unobtrusively in the background as Brenda started the questioning. "For the record, you are Donna Hayward, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Donna said. Apparently now that she'd given up on the idea of running, she was going to attempt to be polite.

Two could play that game. "Thank you," Brenda said with a small smile. "Now, can you tell me who you were planning on visiting?"

Donna looked even more nervous than before as she answered, "Shelly."

"You mean Shelly Johnson?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"So, you and Shelly are friends?"

"Well, not really," Donna admitted, looking relieved that Brenda was accepting what was clearly a line of utter baloney. "But we knew each other at school, and when I heard about the fire..."

"So you weren't planning on visiting Dr. Jacoby while you were there." Cue the panicked look. Brenda didn't know whether to laugh or to smack some sense into this girl. She settled on brutal honesty. "I talked to James earlier," she said. "I know everything. Now I know you think you're protecting Laura's memory by withholding this information, but all you are doing is preventing us from finding her killer."

Donna's eyes glistened, but she lifted her chin. Brenda held back a sigh. "That's okay, I understand. It's okay that you don't love her anymore, now that you've realized that she wasn't perfect."

That did it. Donna snapped, "I do love her! I'll always love her!" She sniffled. "James and I were the only ones who did."

Ah, teenagers. Brenda kept her smile off her face; Gabriel, who was standing behind Donna, didn't bother with such restraint. "What about her parents?" Brenda asked innocently.

Donna shrugged. "They didn't really know her. She never told them what was really going on."

"You mean the drugs?" Brenda asked softly.

Donna nodded.

"And the sex?"

Donna nodded again.

"And James?" Another nod. Brenda leaned in more closely. "What else didn't they know about, Donna? What other secrets was Laura hiding?"

Donna didn't answer for a second, but Brenda kept silent and eventually she cracked. "Bob. They didn't know about Bob."

Brenda blinked. "Bob? Do you mean Bobby Briggs?"

"No," Donna said, her voice cracking on the word. "Bob."

"Who is Bob?"

"I don't know," Donna said. "She never really talked about him. But I heard her talking in her sleep once when we were camping and when I asked her about it she stopped talking to me for a week."

Brenda shook her head. This case was just getting more and more confusing by the minute. "So you never met this Bob?"

"I don't think so," Donna said, wiping her eyes.

"And when did this conversation about Bob take place?"

"A few years ago."

"Oh," Brenda said, even more non-plussed. Maybe this was another attempt at distraction. Certainly a random name from a few years back wasn't likely to have much to do with this case.

With that in mind, Brenda walked Donna through the entire story of her and James breaking into Dr. Jacoby's office. Unfortunately, Donna revealed even less than James had and in the end Brenda gave up with a sigh. Maybe the girl was being obtuse, but Brenda was starting to suspect that she just didn't know anything so, with a stern warning to keep her away from the hospital, Brenda let her go.

"At least that's one less interview to do later," Gabriel said in an obvious attempt to cheer Brenda up.

Brenda stared at him balefully and headed for the elevators.

Once they reached the outside, Brenda lifted her face to the overcast skies and let the wind wash over her. Gabriel was quiet for several minutes, for which she was grateful, but eventually he asked, "Where to now, Chief?"

She sighed. "Who's left on our list?"

Gabriel pulled out his notebook. "Bobby Briggs, Hank Jennings the ex-con, and Agent Cooper."

Brenda glanced at her watch. Two o'clock. "Well, Bobby's probably still at school unless he's also skipped out to visit the hospital. And I need to take a break before I tackle Mr. Jennings. Let's go back to the hotel, get some room service, see what we've got so far today, and check to see if I have any messages."

Gabriel smirked at that last one. "Yes, ma'am."

As Gabriel drove them to the hotel, Brenda remembered that Fritz was still with the others, searching Leo Johnson's house. Fortunately, the sheriff had given them a radio that morning so that they wouldn't have to keep locating pay phones. If only she could find it in this darn purse.

A quick check-in with Fritz revealed that they had found a new pair of boots and a hell of a lot of cocaine hidden under a board on Johnson's deck. There was also a coat that reeked of gasoline. Brenda grinned as she put the radio away. "At this rate, Shelly's not going to have to worry about Leo for a long, long time."

"If we can get attempted murder charges for Shelly, it'll be life," Gabriel pointed out.

"Definitely something to aim for," Brenda said.

Gabriel nodded. "Hey, Chief? You know that list of motives we worked on last night?"

"Yes?"

"I think maybe we should have been working on a list of who was sleeping with who instead."

Brenda laughed. "You're probably right. Let's see, we have Laura, who was officially dating Bobby, secretly dating James, having sex with Leo -- possibly in exchange for money or drugs -- and prostituting herself on the side for Renault. Then you have Shelly, who is married to Leo, but having an affair with Bobby."

"Don't forget Laura's dad, who's having an affair, and James, who was dating Laura, but the day after she died, hooked up with Donna."

"Laura's best friend," Brenda said and suddenly all the humor drained out of the atmosphere.

After a few minutes of silence, Gabriel asked, "What do you make of Bobby? Do you think he planted that shirt in Jacques Renault's apartment?"

"Definitely, and he probably had something to do with the drugs found in James's motorcycle, because in both cases there was an anonymous tip telling the police where to look. What I want to know is, how did Bobby know about Jacques Renault, and how did he know that Jacques and Leo knew each other?"

"Maybe Bobby was the one to get Laura into prostitution?"

"Maybe," Brenda said thoughtfully. "Or maybe, if Leo was helping Jacques with his pimping, Jacques was helping Leo with his drugs."

"So maybe Bobby was the one who is dealing drugs, not James."

"Exactly."

"But why frame James? We wouldn't suspect Bobby of anything if he weren't going around framing people."

Brenda smiled without humor. "Bobby's a teenage boy and the star of his football team, which means he's not very good at thinking about the future and he's used to getting his own way. If he did frame James, it's probably because Laura was dating James behind Bobby's back."

"But Bobby's seeing Shelly!"

Brenda's smile grew a little more authentic. "You were a teenage boy once, David. Did you always consider all possible sides and consequences before doing something rash?"

Gabriel scowled. "Point taken."

Suddenly, Brenda swore and Gabriel turned to look at her with wide eyes. "Chief?"

Brenda shook her head. "I forgot to ask James if he had sex with Laura the night she died."

"You think he might be the third man?"

"I think that there might not be a third man. Leo Johnson was the last one to see Laura alive. Statistically, the last person to see a victim alive is usually the one who killed her."

Gabriel chuckled. "And I remember you complaining on the plane about how little evidence there was against Leo."

"I'm starting to see why everyone's so keen to find him guilty of murder," Brenda said dryly. Then something occurred to her and she bolted upright in her seat. "Wait, you were awake when Fritz and I were talking?"

Gabriel looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh my God," Brenda said. "You heard what he said about Chief Pope."

"Hey, that is none of my business," Gabriel said firmly. "As far as I'm concerned, I didn't hear anything."

"Oh!" Brenda's brow crinkled and her lips pressed together tightly in a determined line as she faced forward to watch the scenery through the windshield and try to forget this whole conversation ever happened.

ooo

By the time they reached the hotel, Brenda had recovered enough composure to hand over her key to Gabriel so he could order room service while she checked the front desk for messages. Disappointingly, there were none, which Brenda found rather disturbing. What could have happened to Provenza and Flynn?

Intent on making a very long phone call to LA for updates and hopefully a report on her two errant lieutenants, Brenda picked the stairs over the elevator and hurried to her room. Since she didn't have a key, she had to knock and wait till Gabriel let her in. "Any word?" he asked.

"Not a one," Brenda said, already halfway to the phone.

She had just started dialing when there came a knock at the door. "Wow, that was fast," Gabriel said. "It must be a really slow time in the kitchen."

He pulled out his wallet and opened the door. Unfortunately, room service was not on the other side. Instead there were two middle-aged men wearing jeans and tee-shirts. Brenda groaned and put down the phone. "What part of the word 'discretion' did you not understand?" she hissed as she stalked over to the new arrivals.

"That it's the better part of valor?" Provenza offered.

Flynn rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Chief. We're in the room across the hall and we made sure the corridor was clear before coming over."

"And whose idea was that?"

"Tao's," Provenza said. "He knows how fast Flynn and I type, and said we'd spend all day just checking in if we had to do it by e-mail. So he called the hotel, pretended to be a florist or something, and found out what room you were in and did some of his magic to figure out what room we needed to get."

"Or you know, he just looked up the blueprints," Flynn said dryly. "Then Provenza came up with some sob story about how he and his third wife honeymooned here, and that he and I were here to replace that memory with something better."

Gabriel snickered and Brenda struggled to control a smile.

"Like fishing," Flynn snapped. "Or, you know, a trip across the border, so we already found out where we can rent a boat for tonight."

"Excellent work, gentlemen," Brenda said. "Now, if you'll just make your way across the hall before room service gets here--"

"Perfect, I'm starved," Provenza said.

"Then you should probably order room service of your own, now--" There was a knock at the door. "Oh bother. Okay, you two, into the bathroom."

"Chiiief," Flynn whined.

"No! Don't say anything. Just get into the bathroom."

The two lieutenants sulked and dragged their feet, but they did eventually end up in the bathroom. As soon as the coast was clear, Gabriel opened the door and smiled at the absolutely ancient old man on the other side. He was a hundred years old if he was a day. "Room service," he creaked out, the words coming slowly as if his body was too worn down to push dialogue out at a normal speed.

"Right in here, thank you," Gabriel said. He stepped back to let the old man in.

The old man took a sloooow step. Then another sloooow step. Brenda whimpered under her breath.

A noise came from the bathroom.

Brenda and Gabriel exchanged a horrified look, but the waiter didn't seem to notice.

Another noise came from the bathroom.

"Excuse me," Brenda said with a faked laugh. "I think I need to...to powder my nose." Skipping around the old man, she scurried into the bathroom and just barely managed to not slam the door. "What are you doing in here?" she hissed at Flynn and Provenza, who were frozen in the act of poking through her toiletries.

"Noth--" Flynn started in his normal tone of voice until Brenda 'shush-ed' him with both her voice and flailing hand gestures. "Nothing, Chief," he whispered. "Just wondering where all of Gabriel's stuff was."

Brenda narrowed her eyes. "Next door, I presume, along with his clothing and his bed."

"Hey, why do you and Gabriel get separate rooms when Flynn and I have to share?"

"Because the FBI knew in advance they were paying for Sergeant Gabriel and me. You two will be something of a surprise."

"Which is why we had to use vacation time to come here?" Flynn asked.

Brenda winced. "I'll see if I can't cover most of that with comp time."

Before Flynn could complain some more, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Coast's clear," Gabriel called.

"Oh thank goodness," Brenda breathed, hastily making her way out into the main room. The bathroom wasn't too bad for one, but it was seriously cramped with three.

Once they were all in the bedroom, Brenda said, "Okay, there are a few things I need you to look for when--" She was interrupted by another knock on the door.

"Brenda? It's Fritz."

Brenda swore under his breath. "Back to the bathroom," she hissed. "And don't touch anything."

She waited until the bathroom door was closed before opening the main door. "Hey, Fritz," she said in her best casual 'no one at all is hiding in the bathroom, why do you ask?' voice. "We were just about to have lunch. Want some?"

Through the bathroom door, she heard just the faintest whisper of a snort.

"I couldn't eat another bite," Fritz said. "Lucy brought doughnuts. And you know what? I think I'm actually starting to get sick of them. Or maybe just sick in general; my stomach's churning. I just wanted to check in before I went to my room to lie down for a bit."

"Oh, well, we do have some news, but nothing that can't wait until you're feeling better. Maybe we could catch up over dinner?"

"That sounds great, Brenda, thanks." And with that he left, thus ending their most civilized conversation since they broke up.

Brenda wrenched open the bathroom door where, once again, she found Flynn and Provenza poking through her toiletries. "You sure have a lot of stuff for your hair," Flynn said, holding a can of hairspray in one hand and mousse in the other.

"Put that down," Brenda hissed, "and go back to your room."

"But I thought you were going to prep us for tonight," Flynn protested.

Brenda shook her head. "I just realized that I don't yet have Agent Cooper's report on his visit to the casino and there's no point in prepping without it. Once I have that, I'll come to your room. Less chance of Fritz realizing what's going on that way."

Provenza looked back to where Gabriel was moving files on the table and replacing them with covered dishes. "But--"

"Out!"

Heads down, feet shuffling, they went out the door. "I swear, those two are like children. But more frustrating," Brenda huffed as she went over to the table. She blinked. Gabriel had ordered roasted chicken and whipped potatoes with side salads and whole wheat bread. "This looks great," she said as she sat down. When left to his own devices, Fritz had usually ordered a salad for her and a steak for himself.

"The menu's pretty good, maybe because the chef also cooks Mr. Horne's food."

Brenda was too busy enjoying her food to answer. It had been a really long time since breakfast.

Once their initial hunger was slaked, Gabriel asked, "So what did we learn today? Other than that Leo Johnson is scum, which I doubt would be a surprise to anyone in this town."

"Not much," Brenda admitted. "At least not much that's useful. Though we did find out that James is part of a secret society that includes every cop in town, so he'll probably be open to giving us a DNA sample."

"Do you really think he and Laura had sex that night?" Gabriel asked dubiously. "I mean, she was breaking up with him."

"I know," Brenda sighed. "But some teenagers try and soften the blow with goodbye sex."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up and Brenda could see him wanting to ask, but this wasn't a nighttime confidence over shared pizza or pie. They were still working and David was enough of a professional to respect that.

If only Brenda could be so confident about herself.

"Sergeant, I think I'm going to have you and Fritz interview Mr. and Mrs. Jennings tonight to see if Mr. Jennings has gotten up to anything since he got out of jail. We'll save Bobby Briggs for tomorrow."

"Uh, okay," Gabriel said, clearly debating within himself whether or not he should ask.

"I'm going to be spending the afternoon with Agent Cooper," Brenda explained. "Plus, this way I can ensure that Fritz is out of the hotel when I brief Flynn and Provenza."

Gabriel's face cleared. "That makes sense." He smirked. "And it'll give Agent Howard and I a chance to bond."

Brenda shuddered.