Title: Red Headed Goddess, 3/?
Author: Goddess Evie
Date: March 23, 2007
Category: JJHR, Angst
Summary: While out for a run, Jessie discovers a package addressed to her. Who is it from? And Detective Dougan shows up ready to share and work with the Quests. Give him three cheers.
Disclaimer: I do not own JQ. I am only using the characters for my own unique story. The opening quote belongs to Fiona Apple, from her song "Nothing's gonna change my world." I believe it's from the "Pleasantville" movie.
Author's Notes: So, here's your next chapter. This one has more action. Also, in order to answer a question about why the police were in the guy's apartment…I don't know. Heheh, nah, actually, the landlord could have called it in when he/she went into the apartment (they can do that only for very specific reasons, but say he's checking all the smoke alarms in the building or something) and found the room and called the police. Does that explanation work?

Chapter 3: Nothing's gonna change my world.

It wasn't some kind of overwhelming fear that kept Jessie awake. No, she'd been terrified as she'd stood in that room, her own eyes staring at her from hundreds…thousands of pictures. It had shaken her, she'd known that. She remembered crying into Jonny's shirt.

But the fear had not stayed long past her exiting that horrible apartment. The more she thought about it, the less afraid she'd become. As she'd compared it to other traumatic events in her life, she'd realized how inconsequential this one was. No one had been holding a gun to her head, or worse the head of a loved one. Nobody had been trying to destroy the world with only her and her two best friends to come to the rescue. No one was being threatened, tortured, kidnapped, harmed. There was nothing to be afraid of.

But plenty to be angry about. Angry that someone would do something so low. Jessie could remember watching TV shows where the same thing happened. Some guy obsessed with a certain girl, always collecting pictures of her, personal items, stalking her, causing her to live in constant fear. It was easy to see the person only cared about themselves, no matter how much they claimed to care only about the one they were obsessed with. Jessie hated to think some guy like that could be following her around. But she wasn't like those girls on the TV shows. Far from them.

She was angry, too, that it had gone on so long without her knowing. That he had been able to watch her, invade her life, without anyone's knowledge. It wasn't easy to get past the watchful eye of her father, especially since Jessie knew Race had been around when many of those shots had been taken. Or that she herself hadn't noticed such a thing. She was her father's daughter, and had come to reflect many of his own traits and talents. So why hadn't they discovered him before? Why had the person gone on so long without their knowledge?

Was she angry, as well, because the man behind the camera had so easily struck fear into her being? Because he had come out of nowhere and shaken her up? No, Jessie wouldn't admit to that. He didn't scare her. She'd already vowed not to be scared. Not since her first introduction to the room, the walls filled with photos of herself. But she would be mad. And she'd be careful and alert.

She had to stop thinking about it. She needed to get some sleep. All her anger was keeping her mind busy and keeping her awake. She couldn't let this mysterious photographer affect her so deeply. Besides, what could he do anyway? She could easily defend herself against him, she assured herself. And even if she couldn't, Jonny, Hadji, her dad, and Dr. Quest would never let anything happen to her.

She let that thought comfort her as she finally drifted off to sleep a little past five.

When she awoke again around seven, a little bit more rested but not by much, Jessie knew she wasn't going to get anymore sleep. She sat up in bed, her feet dropping to rest on the thick carpeted floor. The rumpled comforter and sheet still covered her lap as she rubbed at her eyes. Immediately, a vivid scene of that room took her and she blinked rapidly to make it go away.

Her fists gripped at her bedding in anger. It was just a room. They were just photographs. They couldn't harm her. Only if she let them. She made the decision right then not to let them. So far, no real danger had come out of the discovery and Jessie wouldn't let herself sit around and imagine any. It would only serve to bring fear, and she didn't need any of that.

Standing up, she determined not to think about it anymore. She shouldn't have even let if affect her in the first place. She had things to do, a life to live. "So get on with it, Bannon," she ordered herself firmly.

She decided she needed a run. Something to fill her morning. She changed quickly into track pants, a sports bra and a zip front hoodie. She stepped into her bathroom to pull her hair back into a ponytail, then grabbed socks, running shoes and iPod and headed for the main entrance. The house was quiet, which she expected. Those who could sleep were. Her father was most likely trying to find ways to occupy himself while it was still too early to seek out Dougan at the Rockport police station. Jessie didn't see him on her way through the compound, so he must have found something to keep him busy.

She stopped in the foyer to don her shoes and socks and start her iPod. Immediately, Cake's upbeat "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" flooded her ears. A good song to start a run with. And one of her favorite's. It brought a small smile to her lips. This had been a good idea. She hummed along with the music as she headed outside and stretched before her jog.

She was lucky that the Quest property the compound had been built on had plenty of room for running without having to leave the grounds. Sometimes she'd run along the highway that skirted the cliff and gave her a great view of the ocean, or the other way along the forested paths into Rockport. But today she felt like staying close to home and she didn't dwell on why.

"Devil Inside" by Utada Hikaru, a lesser known artist that was just immerging in American markets, was playing when the gates dividing the Quest Property from the outside world came into view. Seeing them made her quickly calculate the distance she had come. About three miles. The gates would be a great place to take a breather and stretch more, before heading back.

Jessie was about twenty meters from the wrought iron gates when she realized there was something on them. She couldn't quite make it out. Squinted as she got nearer. It was an orangey-tan, square shaped. About the size of an 8x11 mailing envelope. In fact, that's exactly what it was, taped to the bars of the gate. Ten paces away she saw her name scrawled on it.

Her heart was beating wildly as she stood in front of the gates, eyes affixed to the envelope, and it wasn't because of the exercise. She swallowed, reached for the package, stopped herself halfway. She couldn't make herself take it. She didn't want to.

"Iris," she spoke to the gate, not expecting her voice to be so shaky and not happy about it. "Tell dad to meet me out here immediately."

JQ

Race arrived in his black sports car with the other members of the household in tow. By that time Jessie had pulled herself away from the gate, the envelope still attached to it. She was crouched on the ground a few feet away, heels of her palms pressed into her eyes. She looked up when she heard the car, and rose to her feet as the men in her life piled out. Race was still in the clothes he'd arrived home in. Dr. Quest looked like he had just showered and gotten dressed in khakis, a gray blue polo shirt and loafers. Hadji had on white flannel pajamas and a pair of sandals. Jonny was in boxers, a t-shirt and sneakers that weren't even tied.

Race took her by her shoulders and looked at her, the silent question in his eyes. She answered just as silently, turning her head to look over her shoulder at the folder on the gate. Benton strode forward and snatched the thing off, holding it gingerly in his hands. The five of them seemed to communicate silently to each other. They all seemed to have a premonition of what the envelope meant without discussing options. They all seemed to work in sync with each other.

Race gently tugged at Jessie's arm to get her to move, pulling her to the car. Hadji climbed back into his side of the car. Jonny held his door open for Jessie and slipped in behind her. Benton took the passenger seat and Race drove. The silence remained on the way back to the compound. Jessie slipped her hands into Jonny and Hadji's, holding them tightly and feeling their tight grips in return. Race took top speed back to the mansion, even though it was a short ride. He shifted quickly, once slipping his hand back to touch his daughter's leg for a moment.

Benton avoided looking at the thing in his lap. It lay lightly in his fingers. Not very heavy. Just enough to have a sheet of paper, a few photographs. He stopped thinking about that and concentrated on the house as they approached it. If he hadn't trusted Race's driving, he would have thought they were going to crash through the garage door. They stopped just short of it and Race immediately turned off the car.

No one moved. Not for a couple of moments. They're breathing was the only sound. Just a few moments to remember all five of them were right there gathered in the car. Benton was the one who put everyone into motion.

"Jonny, Hadji, you go start on the surveillance footage for the front gate. Whoever dropped off the package didn't go undetected. Jessie, if Detective Dougan gave you a contact number, you need to get that now and call him. Tell him to come up to the Compound right away. Race and I will be in the lighthouse."

The back doors opened and the three teens filed out, heading off to their tasks. Benton and Race looked at each other, theirs the most unpleasant task of all. Once again, it was Benton that had to get them moving. He popped open his door and stepped out into the mid-morning. Race took his cue, following as the doctor headed for the labs.

The walk was both too short and agonizingly long. Benton held the envelope at his side, arms swinging slightly as he walked. Race told himself not to look at it. Glanced at it five seconds later, scolded himself mentally and strengthened his resolve and still found his gaze attracted to the parcel. Everyone knew what was inside. But he was still afraid to actually open it and look at the contents. He was glad Benton carried it. If Race had it in his hands, it would most likely be shreds right now, before anyone had a chance to look at it.

Inside the lighthouse, the two men passed the first floor lab where the Quest World main unit was stored and the kids were often found playing their games. They headed instead to the second floor, where Race and Benton together had set up their own forensics lab, more advanced than anything the Rockport CSI unit had, and would probably salivate over if they ever saw it. On top of that, they had instant access to FBI, CIA and Interpol records for known criminals and fingerprint files. And of course Race's I-1 connection.

Benton set the envelope on the lab table and grabbed a couple of pairs of latex gloves. They would handle this carefully and professionally, extracting any and all evidence. Handing a pair of the gloves to Race, Benton donned his own and the two men stood staring at the offending article once again.

"The handwriting itself will be a good clue. Something to hold onto and compare other samples to. We'll scan it into a computer for our records," Benton started.

Race nodded. Benton watched his friend. They both hesitated to open the envelope. Benton in order to give Race a chance to do it himself. The man stayed still, giving the package a steely gaze. Benton held in a sigh as he reached for the envelope again.

Turning it over, he squeezed the metal tabs together and lifted the flap. With slight hesitation-what was a little more anyway?-Benton allowed the contents to slip from their wrapping. Three or four photographs, face down at the moment, and a letter in the same handwriting as the front of the folder. Flowing, but neat. More like calligraphy. Something Benton could admire if not for the current situation.

Benton picked up the letter, Race watching him. He began to read it, not sure what he would find. His eyes quickly scanned the words, bile rising despite their poetic nature. All the sugar coating in the world couldn't disguise this for what it was.

"Well?" Race asked, suspense finally getting the better of him.

Benton shook his head and handed the note to his companion. "Just a better sample of our suspects handwriting. Nothing to identify who he might be." Race didn't read very far before he set the letter aside again.

"Do you want to start scanning the samples in while I look at these?" Benton offered.

"No. Let's just get this over with," Race replied.

Well, Benton thought as he reached for the photos, I tried.

He flipped them over one by one. Every one was of Jessie. No surprise there. It's what they had been expecting. One was a close up of her from about the waist up, looking around herself with easy confidence. Another showed her from the back, a full body shot, walking towards a small crowd outside a building neither Race nor Benton had seen before. The next, Jessie coming out of that same building, running away from something she found on the inside. In the last, she was leaning against her jeep, her back once again to the photographer, face lifted to the sky.

"Those are from yesterday," Jessie's low voice interrupted the two men.

They hadn't realized how entranced they had become with the photos as they studied them. Really, each one seemed professionally done. Each scene carefully selected so that Jessie was the most prominent figure. Cropped so that no other persons could be a distraction. Beautiful. Sickening.

"Did you get a hold of Detective Dougan?" Race asked his daughter.

She nodded. "Yeah, he's on his way right now." She tore her gaze from the photos to look at her father. "Said it should be about half an hour. Iris is already prepped to let him in. I gave him a password to use."

"Good girl. Any news from the boys?"

"They haven't found anything, yet. Started at the point just after you two arrived this morning."

"They'll alert us when they find anything," Benton stated, noting Jessie was already looking at the photos again. "This is the building Detective Dougan called you to?"

Jessie moved forward and leaned over the table, giving them a closer look. "It's on the far side of Rockport. We were there just yesterday. Late afternoon." She pointed out the photos in chronological order. "Just as we got there, and just before leaving."

"He was there?" Jonny's incredulous voice asked as he bent next to Jessie to look at the photos as well. "And not one person saw him?"

"You found something, son?" Benton interrupted Jonny's tirade before it could go any further.

"Oh yeah, umm…"

"Iris, show main gate surveillance footage starting at oh five twenty five, today's date," Hadji stepped in calmly.

Simultaneously, the five turned to look at the monitor on the far wall. The footage appeared immediately, green with night vision. The road was visible, as well as some of the forest that helped to hide the compound from the public road. A paperboy was just leaving, getting back into his car for the drive back to town. The camera followed first human then automobile until it left the camera's range, before beginning an automated scan again. When it picked up another figure, it zoomed in and followed the intruders trail.

"That's our guy," Jonny informed as they all watched him approach the gate, attach the envelope and leave again. "Between the hoodie, hat, and sunglasses, there's no way to pick out any distinguishing features."

"We tried already," Hadji added with a defeated sigh. "The best we could do was height and weight."

"Six one, a hundred eighty five pounds," Jonny piped up, answering that mystery.

"So, just about any average shmoe," Jessie commented sarcastically.

"What about shoe prints?" Benton asked immediately.

"We'll have to go out there and get them before they're erased, if they haven't been already," Race answered, rising from the table. He grabbed a forensics kit from a file drawer and headed down the stairs.

"I'll see if I can't lift any prints from these," Benton volunteered, turning back to the documents on the table.

He almost snatched the letter from Jessie's hand. She was reading it silently, Jonny and Hadji scanning it as well over her shoulders. Benton watched his own son's gaze stray from the paper as he mouthed words from the letter. Even if he weren't skilled at lip reading, Benton would know what he was saying. "Red-Headed Goddess." Jonny looked up and caught his father's gaze, pursing his lips for a moment before returning to the letter.

Jessie set the letter down on the table again. Benton watched a silent exchange between his two sons behind Jessie. They glanced at him as well, and he lifted his eyebrows at them.

"I need a shower," Jessie suddenly stated, slipping away from the lab table and toward the stairs.

"Ditto," Jonny followed her quickly. Hadji as well, claiming he wanted to look at the surveillance footage again.

That left Benton alone with the packet and work to do.

JQ

Detective Dougan pulled up to the gate just as Race was putting away the forensics kit. He'd managed to find the trail their suspect had left, isolating it from other tracks. The dust was too delicate for any type of molds, but the digital camera had come in very handy. Race had plenty of shots, but no full prints. Still, they could have come up empty handed, so Race wasn't about to complain.

"I'm Detective Dougan," the man introduced himself as he exited his car, the engine idling.

Race shook the man's offered hand. "Race Bannon."

"Ah, I'm sorry about all this mess," Dougan sympathized.

"We all are. I just want it to be over as soon as possible," Race replied.

"Well, show me what you've got. Already looks like you've been collecting evidence," Dougan gestured to the forensics kit.

"Follow me in," Race answered, heading back to his car.

Ten minutes later the two men were joining Dr. Quest back in the lab. Dougan looked around with a low whistle. "What the Rockport forensics team wouldn't give for a setup like this."

"Detective Dougan, this is Dr. Quest," Race introduced.

The two men greeted each with a nod of their heads.

"What are you working on?" Dougan asked, walking to the lab table to get a better look.

"We received a care package from the photographer this morning," Benton answered as he continued to work. "I'm attempting to extract finger prints from the photos he so kindly included."

"More?" Dougan raised his eyebrows.

"Pictures from the crime scene yesterday. Four of them. Each one of Jessica," Race detailed for the man.

"He was there," Dougan was aghast.

"And taking pictures," Race added, picking one up and handing it to Dougan.

Dougan didn't take very long to look at it before putting it down on the table again, looking a bit pale. "I apologize, gentlemen. This never should have happened. If he was there, we should have seen him. We should have captured him."

"Don't apologize, Detective," Benton stopped him, pausing from his work to comfort the man. "You were doing your best. That's all we can ask."

"Unfortunately, there aren't many clues," Dougan continued, still sounding apologetic. "Plenty of fingerprints, but no matches from our database, though we're still running them. If the guy receives any mail, he doesn't keep it for very long. We're hoping to get some pieces in the next few days to at least get a name. We're still going through the Landlord's records. That's a huge mess. Still working on an artist's depiction based on the description from the Landlord and the other tenants. Anything you could add would be very helpful. I'd be very willing to share and cooperate with you, gentlemen."

Race and Benton exchanged a look, not quite sure they were hearing Dougan correctly. Did he just agree to cooperate with them in the investigation without their even having to ask? Dougan noticed their surprise and gave an explanation before they could ask for one.

"Everyone in Rockport knows this family and how it works. You stick together, no matter what. I've heard stories from other officers who've had to work with you. You always get your way in the end. I just figured I'd skip the unnecessary power play and get right to what works. Plus, I know you have more and better resources than we do. If we can work together on this, hopefully we can get this guy caught before he does any real damage."

Race looked at Benton, still unbelieving. Benton was slowly shaking his head, Dougan's words making complete sense.

"Detective Dougan, I think we have a deal," Benton offered.

"Good, then let's get started," Dougan set the briefcase he'd brought with him on the lab table and popped it open.

Inside were a myriad of manila folders and documents. And a small sample of the pictures that had come off the wall. He spoke as he worked, business like and professional. Race and Benton gave him their full attention.

"Like I said before, we haven't got much. But you're welcome to look at whatever we do have. I brought along some of the photos. They really don't give any clues, but you never know. I've got copies of the fingerprints on disk, and…Well, really, that's all I've got."

"We've got handwriting samples. I was just working on picking up more fingerprints. Race was looking into maybe getting some shoe prints. We also received a note, though there are no clues there as to who our photographer might be. Still, take a look at it, if you want. I'd like to stick the fingerprints from your files into our computers and see if we get anything."

Dougan handed over the disk as Benton slid him the note. Race took the digital camera from the forensics kit he'd taken with him and hooked it up to another computer to start working on the images he'd captured. Dougan picked up the note and scanned it quickly once before going back and reading it more thoroughly.

My Red-Headed Goddess,

I've finally been discovered, after all this time. I feel like Actaeon when he is caught spying on Artemis. Although I predict your reaction is likely much like hers, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. I knew I would be found out sooner or later. My secret emotions could not be hidden forever. But don't judge me so quickly.

This changes our relationship. Where before I loved you from afar without your knowing I even existed, now you have proof that I am here. A dream come true for me. And one step closer to my ultimate goal. To stand with you face to face. Close enough to touch.

I fear I have said too much. This is my first contact with you. I will give the actions that transpired time to sink in before I say more. Give me a chance.

Your Actaeon

"It certainly seems harmless enough," Dougan breathed to himself.

"Not when coupled with yesterday's other discoveries. This is no mere teenage infatuation," Benton reminded.

Dougan agreed and began to theorize. "No. The way he speaks to her as if she really were a goddess. He's made a role for her. One he can, no doubt, fantasize about. And his own role. Hoping to become the goddess' consort. Until he was discovered, he was content to admire her from afar."

Benton picked up on the line of thought. "But now we know he's out there, specifically, now that Jessie knows he exists, he wants more. He says himself her knowledge of him changes their relationship."

"But how?" Dougan wanted to know. "Will he force this meeting he wants so much? Or continue to merely hope for it to happen. Now that he's been discovered, how will this affect his behavior?"

"And what's the ultimate goal he speaks of?" Race's question was laced by a dangerous tone.

"It's hard to say. And scary to think about. Let's just hope for the best," Dougan said with determination.