By: magicks
Summary: didn't do it then, not gonna do it now
Disclaimer: *beep* (Operator) I'm sorry, this line has been disconnected. Please return to first chapter and read again.
Ok, next chappie.
Danny and Jake stood in front of the door labeled "Talismaniac.com," waiting for the landlord to find the right key in his large key ring. Finally the middle aged man grasped a group of three keys triumphantly, and started on the locks on the door.
"I can't believe he's dead," the landlord said. "I just talked to him yesterday. You're sure it was Bowman?"
"Yes," Danny answered for them. "We have a positive identification from- one of his friends."
"Poor kid." The landlord sighed. "I always knew he'd get himself killed someday. Dealt with some strange people, if you know what I mean. And that brown haired chick he's always hanging around with."
"What brown-haired chick?" Jake asked suspiciously. "What does she look like?"
"Oh, about 5'7", green eyes, long brown hair, killer figure." The landlord paused in his work and his face took on a lewd expression as he pictured what he had just described. "Yeah, real nice figure."
Danny glanced at the landlord with slight distaste as he realized the man was talking about Sara. "Uh, the locks?"
"What? Oh, yeah." The landlord shook himself and wrestled the second key into the next lock. "Anyway, you should talk to her. She's up here all the time."
"I wonder how you would know that," Danny said under his breath. Jake snickered.
"Here we go. Finally." The landlord turned the key in the last lock and pushed the door open. "Call me if you need me," he yelled over his shoulder, already halfway down the hall.
"Will do," Jake replied automatically as he and Danny entered the apartment. He looked around the cluttered shop/residence uncomfortably. "Shouldn't Sara be here? I mean, they were close, right? She'd know more about this than us."
"You said it yourself, Jake, they were close," Danny said, turning to face the blonde detective. "And she found him with his throat slit in the back of an alley. Would you be here if you were her?"
Jake fell silent, properly chastised. He wandered towards one of the shelves and picked up a small metal bowl standing on three legs, intricate carvings and reliefs decorating the sides and handles. "What is this stuff, anyway?"
"That happens to be a bronze ting from the Han dynasty," said a voice behind him. Jake whipped his head around, and Danny looked up from the desk he'd been searching. Both of their jaws dropped. There, standing in the doorway to the bedroom, and looking more than a little pissed off, stood Gabriel Bowman, arms crossed over his rumpled shirt.
"Now I have a question," he continued. "What are you doing here and how the hell did you get in?"
Danny recovered first. "Gabriel Bowman?"
"Yeah? Detective Woo, right? You were here before."
"That's right."
"Well, who died this time? And, more importantly, who let you in?"
By this time Jake had found his voice, and blurted out, "You."
Gabriel looked at him skeptically. "I think I would have remembered letting two cops come into my apartment."
"No, you died." Jake tried to clarify his statement, but only succeeded in confusing Gabriel even more.
The young man stared at the blonde detective as if Jake had sprouted feathers and tried to fly out the window. (A/N: wouldn't that be cool?) Then he sighed and turned to Danny. "Translation, please," he requested.
"We found the body of a young man in an alley off of 50th yesterday. He looked exactly like you," Danny explained.
Gabriel paled considerably. "Are you sure? Cause, you know, there are a lot of guys with dark hair and brown eyes in New York."
"Trust me, dude, he looked just like you," Jake assured him. "He was, like, your twin or something."
"Or something," Gabriel muttered. Danny eyed him suspiciously.
"Do you know who we found yesterday?"
"Um, I can't be sure," Gabriel said nervously, pinching his sinuses to ward off the killer headache he knew was coming on.
"Well, why don't you come down to the station with us and find out," Danny suggested easily, but his eyes glinted a warning that it was not optional.
"Ok, just give me ten minutes to shower and get dressed. Feel free to- make yourselves at home, or whatever," Gabe answered, heading back to the bedroom.
"Hey Bowman," Danny called.
"Call me Gabriel," he answered.
"Gabriel, just out of curiosity, where were you last night around 10:30?"
Gabe poked his head out of the bedroom. "See that?" he asked, pointing to a shattered table lamp that lay on the floor by the opposite wall.
"Yeah."
"I was dodging it. My girlfriend decided I wasn't spending enough time with her, and wanted to let me know how she felt before she left."
"Ouch," Jake commented.
"Very much so. Anyway, I spent the rest of the night with my good friend Jack Daniels," Gabriel finished. Suddenly he looked rather green. "So if you'll excuse me-" he disappeared from their sight, and both detectives could hear the sounds of retching coming from the bathroom.
"I guess that corraborates his story," Jake commented, wandering into the small kitchen area and taking an empty liquor bottle off the counter. "That and Jack here."
"Yeah, but he knows something," Danny said quietly, listening as the toilet flushed and the shower turned on. "I'm willing to bet he knows why our guy was killed, if not by who."
"But why wouldn't he tell us? Do you think he's involved?"
"No, not with the murder at least. He was truly shocked when we told him about the body; you can't fake that reaction. He's scared, though. I just don't know if it's for himself or someone else."
Danny stood silently, contemplating the possibilities, as Jake explored the rest of the shop. Completing his tour, he leaned against the back of the sofa and frowned. "Damn. Who's gonna tell Pez?"
"What about Sara?" Gabe entered the room just in time to hear the last word of Jake's sentence. "Wait a minute, she works with you guys, right? So she thinks I'm-"
"Yep," Jake answered before he could finish.
"Shit," was all Gabriel could say. Then a hurt expression came over his face, which he tried to conceal. "Um, if she works with you, then, well, why isn't she here?" He asked, praying that question didn't sound as pathetic as he thought it did.
Danny studied the boy intently for a moment, trying to discern whether or not he was sincere. Jake, however, threw out an answer. "She couldn't make it."
Danny saw the mixture of worry and hurt in Gabriel's eyes, watched the dark haired young man assume his fears were true, that she was in trouble, or, worse, didn't care. The kid really cares about her. Good. "Sara couldn't handle coming here," he explained gently, trying to smooth over Jake's blunt remark. "It was too much too soon. Your death really shook her up, Gabriel. I've never seen her like this."
Gabriel looked slightly relieved, although his eyes held their worried expression. "I have to call her."
"Why don't we just go down to the precinct. This would probably be better done face to face," Danny suggested again, although this was an actual suggestion.
Gabe looked doubtful, but agreed, and the three men headed for the patrol car.
A/N: What? I told you I didn't kill Gabriel. I said (and I quote) "Did I just kill Gabriel? No."