CHAPTER 2.

"So I'm lying in bed…" Ray danced around his apartment as he sang along to the radio. "Just like Brian Wilson did…" The plastic pot he'd eaten instant noodles from for his dinner lay discarded on the side. Ray glanced at it momentarily and considered throwing it out, but decided he was too tired for housework now and instead switched off the radio and headed towards his bedroom.

It had been a difficult day. The forensics team hadn't turned up any clues from the apartment where Carrie-Ann's grandmother had been murdered and so far they had no leads, no motive, nothing. Ray hoped Mort would be able to give them something to work on tomorrow after he'd carried out the autopsy.

Francesca had contacted an old friend of Carrie-Ann's who had agreed to collect her from the station and drive her home. She had been exhausted and distraught when they'd finally been able to let her go and Ray felt sorry for her. He'd flashed her a supportive smile as she'd walked away and the gesture hadn't gone unappreciated.

So much for ignoring this girl, Kowalski…

Ray stopped and hung his head as the image of Thelma Hoffman lying dead in her apartment flashed into his mind. He wondered how many more murder investigations he could cope with before he went completely crazy. How much more blood and violence? How many more distraught relatives?

What's it gonna to take to tip me over the edge…?

Before Ray's thoughts became too dark there was a knock at the door. Ray glanced at the clock on his microwave oven.

Kinda late for a visitor…

He opened the door to find Carrie-Ann standing there.

"Hi Detective Vecchio," she said in a shaky voice. "I hope I didn't wake you," she added.

"No," replied Ray. "And call me Ray."

Carrie-Ann nodded and a strained smile appeared on her lips.

"Are you OK?" Ray asked.

Carrie-Ann shrugged. "I couldn't sleep," she told him. "So I thought I'd take a walk. I wanted to get some things from Gran's place, but they wouldn't let me in."

"Crime scene," explained Ray. "There's gonna be uniforms on the door for a couple days. If there's something special you wanted I could talk to the guys."

Carrie-Ann shook her head. "Nothing special, really. I guess I just wanted to feel close to Gran again."

Ray nodded then there was an awkward pause. Ray's mind was racing. Should he invite her in? She was here, alone, in the middle of the night. If Fraser were here he'd say it was rude to turn her away.

"Er, do you want a, er, a coffee, or something?" Ray asked. He was half hoping she'd say no.

Carrie-Ann's face lit up. "That would be wonderful, thank you, Ray."

Ray held the door open and she walked in and immediately made herself comfortable on the sofa.

"Chrissy, my friend, offered to stay with me tonight, but I sent her home," she explained. "I thought I'd be OK, but I just keep going over and over things in my mind. If only I'd gotten there sooner."

"Don't," advised Ray. "Take it from me."

"OK," smiled Carrie-Ann. "Thank you. I'll try."

Ray poured two cups of coffee and then immediately emptied them into the sink. "It's too late for coffee," he announced. "Fraser always makes me drink this Canadian tea stuff when my head is buzzing. He left me some here…somewhere…" Ray opened cupboards and drawers in his kitchen randomly until he found the box of bark tea. He boiled some more water and dropped a teabag into each cup before covering them with the water. "Fraser says to wait for three and a half minutes so it can cook properly, or, er, whatever it does," he said as he walked over carrying the mugs.

Carrie-Ann giggled. "I don't think you cook tea," she said.

Ray shrugged. "So, um, do you want to, er, talk about it?" he asked.

Carrie-Ann's smiled faded. "I guess…" she trailed off. "I miss her already. It hasn't even been twenty four hours yet. This is just so awful. I can't imagine what it must be like to…y'know…to die like that. And why? Who would do that to my Gran? She didn't have any enemies, she was just an old lady, so why would anyone want to hurt her? I'm scared, Ray. I just don't feel like I can be alone right now. I don't feel safe."

"Until we figure out a motive for the murder it's probably best that you got eyes in the back of your head," said Ray.

Carrie-Ann suddenly looked more terrified than before. "What?" she exclaimed. "You think he might be after me too?"

Ray could have kicked himself in the head. "No, no," he tried to reassure her. "That's not it. It's just, well, just be careful out there, OK? Just in case." He tried a reassuring smile, but he realised his words hadn't sounded all that reassuring.

"You'll take care of me, though, won't you?" said Carrie-Ann. "You'll keep me safe, I know you will." She put her mug of tea down and slowly her hand drifted across to Ray's knee where is settled with a delicate touch.

Ray jerked his leg away so quickly he spilt tea in his lap.

"I'm sorry," said Carrie-Ann, looking horrified.

"It's OK," said Ray, brushing the hot liquid from his jeans. "These are old, I need new ones. My mum wants to buy me new clothes, I guess I'll make her day tomorrow."

"I wasn't talking about your jeans," replied Carrie-Ann. "I meant…I was too forward just now. I'm not normally like this, I promise."

"Forget about it," said Ray, dismissively.

"I…I do like you," said Carrie-Ann.

Ray was about to sit back down, but instead he suddenly straightened. "Look, er, I don't know what you…" he began.

"I'm not trying to come onto you or anything," insisted Carrie-Ann.

Coulda fooled me…

"I just want to say thanks for everything you did today," she continued.

"Just doing my job," replied Ray, wincing at the cliché.

"Well you do an amazing job," replied Carrie-Ann. She sipped at her tea and slowly Ray decided it was safe to sit next to her again. "This is good tea," she said. "Fraser was right about the three and a half minutes."

Ray nodded nervously and drank his tea too. "So, er, do you want me to call you a cab?" asked Ray, eventually, desperate to break the silence which was becoming more awkward as the minutes passed.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" giggled Carrie-Ann.

Yes…

"It's OK, I'm tired anyway," she continued. "And I feel much better thanks to you. I think I could actually sleep now. Thanks for listening and thanks for the tea."

"Greatness," replied Ray and he followed her to the door to see her out. "We'll be in touch if there's any news," he said.

"Thank you," she half whispered and then before Ray could stop her she leaned in for a kiss. She was aiming for his lips, but Ray was fast enough to turn his head slightly so her lips pressed against the side of his face instead.

"Hey!" exclaimed Ray with a frown.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" replied Carrie-Ann and she burst into tears.

"Er, look, it's OK," said Ray. Part of him wanted to put a comforting arm around her, but he realised that would be a really bad idea under the circumstances. "Y'know, grief does things to people," he added.

Carrie-Ann nodded and sniffed then she turned and half ran along the hall.

Ray closed his front door and then spun round to lean heavily against it.

What the hell was that all about…?

He let out a long sigh and went straight to bed, but he didn't get as far as falling asleep before there was another knock at the door.

"Jeez!" he exclaimed and he quickly leapt out of bed and pulled on the t-shirt he'd discarded on the floor barely ten minutes earlier.

He opened the door to find Carrie-Ann standing there again. "Um, look..." he began, deciding he had to be blunt and put a stop to whatever was going through her head before it got out of hand, but then suddenly he noticed she had blood trickling down the side of her face. "What happened?" he asked, urgently.

"There was…there was a guy…" Carrie-Ann began, her voice trembling. "He…he attacked me. Right outside. Oh god, Ray, it must be the man who killed Gran." Her voice cracked and tears started to stream down her face.

"It's OK," Ray tried to reassure her and he gently pulled her inside by the elbow. "Sit down, let's take a look at you," he said and he ran to the kitchen and pulled out a clean cloth from under the sink. "Did you see the guy?" he asked as he ran the cloth under the cold tap.

Carrie-Ann shook her head. "He just jumped me from behind," she explained. "I fell forward and hit my head on the wall. I tried to get up to run, but I couldn't. I thought he was going to kill me, but then he just disappeared."

"He disappeared?" asked Ray, sitting down beside her.

That's odd…If this guy was the murderer and he'd come back for another kill he would surely have made sure he finished the job…?

Ray gently cleaned the blood from the side of her face with the damp cloth and wiped her trembling hands. He looked into her eyes, he could see she was terrified.

Now do I call her a cab…?

Ray sighed. "Look, er, it's late and, er, so if you like you can stay here tonight." As soon as the words had left his lips he wondered if he was doing the right thing. "I'll take the couch," he added, just to make sure she hadn't misunderstood his intentions.

"Really?" Carrie-Ann's eyes lit up. "Thank you. And I'm sorry about before. I think I'm going slightly crazy."

"I already told you, just forget about it," insisted Ray.

xXxXxXx

"Good morning, Ray. I trust you slept well."

"Er, yeah, I guess," Ray replied, wondering, as always, why Canadians were always so goddam chirpy at this hour of the morning. "So, er, I guess you wanna come in," he added. He was hoping that Carrie-Ann would have left before Fraser arrived so he wouldn't have to explain himself to his buddy, but Fraser was always on time.

"I can wait in the hall if you prefer," replied Fraser.

Ray laughed and shook his head, finally opening his apartment door wide enough for Fraser to enter. "I don't really need you on sentry duty right now, buddy," he grinned.

Fraser stepped into Ray's apartment and his olfactory system was almost overwhelmed by the smell of strong coffee. Before he could express his concern for his friend's high caffeine intake, Carrie-Ann walked out of the bathroom wearing one of Ray's shirts and little else.

"Oh, hi, Constable Fraser," she smiled, heading for the kitchen. "Ray said you'd be here early."

Fraser said nothing, just watching her as she picked up a coffee mug and filled it from the machine.

Ray grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him over to the corner of the room. "This is not what it looks like," he hissed.

Fraser rubbed at his eyebrow with his thumbnail. "And what does it look like, exactly?" he asked.

"Oh come on, Fraser, don't give me that," sneered Ray. "I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong, OK?"

"OK," nodded Fraser.

"Good," replied Ray.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Fraser spoke again. "So, what precisely was it you thought I was thinking?"

Ray sighed and glanced over his shoulder to see Carrie-Ann carrying her coffee into the bedroom. "You thought she'd stayed the night."

"Ah," replied Fraser. "And did she?"

"Well, yeah," Ray confirmed, shuffling his feet.

"Ah."

"But not like that."

"Ah."

"Fraser, if you say 'ah' one more time I'm gonna kick ya in the head."

"Understood."

"I slept on the couch," Ray began to explain.

"Ray, you really don't have to explain yourself to me," Fraser insisted.

"I do," replied Ray. "She turned up here last night. She thought she could get into her Gran's place and get some stuff, but, er, it's a crime scene, right, so she was kinda upset."

"I see," nodded Fraser, understandingly. "This must all be very difficult for her."

"Yeah," agreed Ray. "So, I, er, I invited her in and we, er, talked for a while and she left. But then ten minutes later she was back again. Some guy attacked her downstairs."

"Good lord," exclaimed Fraser. "Was she injured?"

"A little," replied Ray. "I patched her up, gave her some of your twig tea..."

"Bark tea," Fraser corrected him.

"Yeah, that," nodded Ray, "and then she just freaked out. She thinks the guy who jumped her might be the guy who whacked her gran. What was I gonna do? Send her back out there?"

"Of course not," replied Fraser, shaking his head.

"So, er, I said she could stay."

"Was she able to provide a description of her assailant?" asked Fraser.

Ray shrugged. "Don't think she really got a look at him," he explained. "He pushed her to the ground and ran."

"It seems highly unlikely that a murderer would return to the scene of his crime and risk being identified in such a manner," said Fraser. He slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip as he pondered this new development.

"That's what I figured," nodded Ray. "It was just some jerk, maybe a purse snatcher, but she's still pretty freaked this morning."

"Understandable," agreed Fraser. "I'll speak to Inspector Thatcher. I'm sure she'll be agreeable to Miss Webber staying at the Consulate until she feels safe again."

"No," Ray replied quickly.

Fraser's eyes narrowed.

Ray could have kicked himself for allowing his buddy to pick up on the tone in his voice. He threw his hand up in the air in resignation. "I know what I'm doing," he insisted, turning on his heels and walking towards the kitchen.

"And that would be what, exactly?" asked Fraser.

Ray spun back to face Fraser. "Nothing, OK? I'm not doing nothing. Anything. I'm not doing anything wrong."

Fraser nodded slowly. "Right you are," he said.

"Don't give me that look," snapped Ray, pouring himself a coffee.

"I apologise," said Fraser, quickly. He paused before adding, "What look?"

"The look that says yesterday he insisted he was gonna ignore this girl and now he's lettin' her sleep over," replied Ray, throwing a handful of candies into his coffee up with a splash.

"But I thought this arrangement was entirely innocent?" Fraser's brow furrowed into a puzzled frown.

"It is," nodded Ray.

Just then the door opened and Carrie-Ann appeared again, this time dressed in her own clothes. "I left your shirt on the bed," she said. She walked over to Ray and smiled at him. "Thank you for last night," she said and kissed him on the cheek.

Ray almost choked on his coffee.

Carrie-Ann giggled. "Sorry," she said, blushing slightly. "I didn't mean it to sound like that." She looked over at Fraser. "I guess Ray told you what happened," she said to him.

"Yes," Fraser confirmed with a nod. "I'm sorry to hear about the incident. How are you feeling this morning?"

"A little sore," she replied. She pulled back her hair to reveal the bruise and grazing to the side of her head. "I'll be OK. I just freaked out. Ray took good care of me, though. He is a very sweet man."

"Indeed," replied Fraser sincerely as Ray refused to make eye contact with him.

"I can't believe that guy is still out there somewhere," continued Carrie-Ann.

"Rest assured we are doing everything we can to discover the identity of your grandmother's killer and bring him to justice," said Fraser. "And to that end, Ray, we should be going."

"What? You can't leave me, Ray," said Carrie-Ann suddenly. She grabbed onto his arm tightly.

Ray was a little stunned. "Er, Fraser and I have got to get to the station," he said. "You can stay here, you'll be fine." He tried to peel her hand away, but her fingers were clasped so tightly that she refused to budge.

"No!" she said. "Please! I'm scared, Ray." Suddenly she broke down and flung her arms around his neck with such force that Ray stumbled backwards. Her breathing suddenly became shallow and rapid.

"Hey," he said, trying to loosen her grip so he could breathe. "It's OK," he added, soothingly with a pleading glance at Fraser.

Fraser dutifully took his cue. "I'll meet you downstairs," he said. "Dief," he commanded and he quickly left the apartment with his wolf at his heels.

As they walked along the hall Dief barked his opinion on the events of the past few minutes.

"I agree she does seem somewhat clingy, to use the vernacular," agreed Fraser. "Although she is grieving for her grandmother so it is perfectly understandable."

Dief barked again.

"I'm sure Ray knows what he's doing," replied Fraser.

Dief sat down and growled in the back of his throat.

"Well of course you're entitled to your opinion," said Fraser as he started walking down the stairs

Another bark and a yap.

"No I'm not willing to make a bet with you," frowned Fraser, turning to look back at Dief. "Now unless you plan to spend the whole day sitting there I suggest you…" but before he could finish his sentence he heard Ray's voice calling his name. The tone immediately suggested urgency.

Fraser ran back up the stairs and turned the corner to see Ray standing in the doorway of his apartment with Carrie-Ann slumped unconscious in his arms.

"Fraser!" he called again sounding even more worried than he had the first time. "I think she fainted, or something," he added as his buddy joined them. "She was, er, hyper…er, breathing."

"Hyperventilating," said Fraser and Ray nodded as he carried her back inside and laid her on the sofa.

Fraser got down on one knee and checked her breathing and pulse.

"She didn't want me to leave her alone," said Ray. "She totally lost it. Like a, er, a panic attack. I…I…" but he trailed off as he noticed the look on Fraser's face. "What is it?" he said anxiously.

"Nothing," replied Fraser. "She'll be fine," he added and he gently rolled Carrie-Ann onto her side.

Just then her eyes flickered open and she let out a deep sigh. "What happened?" she asked as Ray and Fraser slowly helped her to a sitting position.

"You just fainted," Ray explained.

"Oh," said Carrie-Ann, sheepishly. She closed her eyes and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Ray looked at Fraser. He didn't know what to do for the best. Her collapse had shocked him and he couldn't help but feel responsible. He wasn't sure how he'd got into this situation. Suddenly he was in far deeper than he knew he should be, but he couldn't help himself and he didn't know how to get out of it.

"Listen," he said gently, putting an arm around Carrie-Ann's shoulder. "I'm not gonna leave you, OK? I just need to talk to Fraser for a second."

Carrie-Ann nodded and Ray and Fraser got to their feet.

"I should, er, probably stay here a while," said Ray as he led Fraser to the door. "Try to calm her down. I'll catch up with you later."

Fraser glanced over his shoulder at the distraught woman sitting on Ray's sofa and nodded slowly. "Just be…that is I wouldn't want…" he began, but he couldn't get his words out. "What I'm trying to say is…"

"It's OK, Fraser," grinned Ray. "I'm not gonna do anything dumb. Not this time. I'm just bein' friendly, nothing else."

Fraser nodded, seemingly unconvinced. "You might want to make sure that Carrie-Ann is aware of your position."

"Missionary," replied Ray with a wink.

Fraser frowned.

"I'm kidding," said Ray. "Inappropriate?" he added questioningly.

"I don't need to remind you that we are investigating the murder of Carrie-Ann's grandmother and as far as we are aware she was the last person to see her alive," Fraser pointed out.

"You don't really think she stabbed her own granny to death do you?" asked Ray incredulously.

"No," replied Fraser. "She would not have had the strength in her upper arm to inflict such a deep penetrating wound. I'm merely pointing out that morally…"

"I know, I know," agreed Ray. "This might look weird." He let out a sigh. "Give me an hour," he said. "Or two," he added. "I'll meet you at the station."

Fraser nodded and he and Diefenbaker left Ray's apartment for the second time that morning.

xXxXxXx