Are you all ready for Chapter 4? Of course you are, it's been a month after all! Let's read!

Chapter 4

Van Hohenheim was dead. A few hours from now, the whole world would know it. The man who had been president of the University of Amestris system for over three decades, pushing away his family and all other attachments to home had met his end. By hanging himself, no less. Not that Ed believed it for a moment. His father may have been a lot of things in his lifetime, but the elder Elric brother had always been proud to say that Hohenheim was dignified and, above all, not a coward. He wasn't about to hang himself for anything, especially when he still had grandchildren to dote on.

Whoever killed him wanted them to believe it was suicide, though. That was starting to look like one of the few facts that Ed had to go on. Well, that and the anesthetic that decided to keep popping up.

"What should we do, brother?" Al's voice was shaky. Even from a couple feet away, Ed could feel the slight onset of grief come pouring out of his brother, like it had the day their mother died. Perhaps it wasn't as intense, but Al had always been closer to Hohenheim than he had, and unless they got some answers, Ed feared the younger Elric brother would crumble.

"We move forward," he said confidently. Al looked at him in astonishment. In truth, he sounded more confident than he felt…he also felt far angrier than he sounded. Grief was no foreign concept to him, and was always something he could just push away. Instead, he'd fill himself with what he considered to be justified anger.

"And the rest of the family?"

"Let's try to get some answers first," Ed muttered. He didn't want to think about how Winry and the kids would take it. They adored their grandfather. With a sigh, Ed's eyes darted around the room to see the detectives (since he'd never consider any of them more than that) huddled together in discussion. "I can't believe I'm consulting for the department again…"

"You could look at it as a reunion," Al joked, trying to obviously relieve the tension. When Ed scowled instead, he ceased the joke. "So, the anesthetic…"

"Yep. Looks like we're going into work tomorrow." Al shrugged. Ed continued to scowl. Of course, it didn't matter to him. His family was still visiting Xing. They didn't have to hear the news yet or wonder why their father had to head into the office on a Sunday. Ed groaned at the thought and rubbed his eyes, deciding it was pointless to agonize over it. Stealing one last glance at the detectives, he jerked his head back toward the car and Al followed him.

The crime scene was just as congested as when the brothers had arrived, only now there were lights popping up in the dorm room windows, the whole thing having obviously garnered attention. Ed shook his head at the thought while he weaved through the other milling officers. His phone started buzzing in his pocket and the blond fished it out. Winry was calling, or one of the kids, but considering the way he'd taken off without saying anything, it was most likely Winry. Ed knew he'd get a mouthful later, but there were more important things at the moment than his irate wife. Exhaling another sigh, Ed moved to start the car only to hear the sound of someone putting their hands on the door. No surprise that it was Mustang.

"I'm glad I caught you before you left," he expressed. Ed quirked a lazy eyebrow.

"What do you want?" he snapped irritably. Mustang grimaced, no doubt trying to keep his composure; a fact which amused Ed.

"I've officially decided to hire you on the case despite a conflict of interest, just as consultants."

"You realize a simple phone call would've sufficed," Ed pointed out tiredly.

"Stop being an enormous asshat, Fullmetal," Mustang responded, his own tone matching Ed's. "I'd rather not waste my phone minutes making that call." Ed scoffed, acknowledging that it wasn't an unanticipated response. "In any case, the real reason I wanted to speak to you is to tell you that we've decided to report your father's death as a suicide."

"What? !" It was surprising that Al was the first to grow so indignant. Ed took longer; Mustang had always been notorious for complex plans with hidden parts and meanings. "But, dad-"

"To the media," Mustang clarified. "We all know your father was murdered but the killer may not know that we've discovered this. They obviously went to extreme lengths to make it seem like a suicide."

"You're hoping they'll let their guard down if we think of it as suicide," Ed finished, practically reading the commissioner's mind. Mustang smirked just a little. "That's just like you."

"It gets results. What are you planning to do in the meantime, consultants?"

"The anesthetic used on dad was used in your vigilante case, too," Al answered from the passenger seat. "Brother and I were planning on finding out just where that came from and who could be using it."

"All right. I'm sure Brosh will get in touch with you, but until he does, try to keep your investigation low key. Whoever our murderer is, they're very likely twisted, considering they staged a suicide. Be careful."

"Aw, Mustang, do you actually care about us?" Ed mocked sardonically. It was Mustang's chance to scoff.

"Please, do you realize how bad it would look for the department if a consultant died in the middle of an investigation, short stuff."

"Call me that again and someone else will die instead," Ed told the older man with gritted teeth. Mustang gave his new consultant a look of amusement before patting the side of the car and departing. "Bastard…"

"At least he's letting us work on the case," Al pointed out. Ed ignored that fact. He also ignored that his phone was still vibrating in his pocket. Obviously, Winry wasn't going to stop calling. "So, to the office?"

"Sure, but let's nab some breakfast at your place first, or we'll fall asleep before the sun even rises." Al concurred with his older brother.

Suppressing a yawn, Ed turned the wheels of his car rapidly, the headlights illuminating what yet remained darkened, including the fronts of the dorm buildings. Students were gathered outside the front of the various dorms, the RAs attempting to bring them inside. Ed blinked at the reflection of his lights in the windows before stopping a moment. There was a familiar face among the crowd of students; an older face. Ed shut his eyes, hoping for a moment that he was just hallucinating it. When he opened them again, the face was indeed gone, but that unsettling, sinking feeling in his stomach remained.

"Brother, I think you're blinding the co-eds," Al informed him kindly.

"Oh, right. Spaced out for a moment there," Ed lied. Al didn't call his bluff, but instead suggested that they get some coffee for the ride home. The elder brother gave his silence as agreement.

Swallowing down his uneasy feelings of dread, Ed maneuvered his car away from the University and towards the nearest twenty-four-hour coffee shop. Al was close to falling asleep, but Ed was wide awake, all manner of adrenaline flowing through his body. He wasn't about to voice these feelings to his brother or anyone else. He hadn't even confided in Winry when they left the wedding, though she had asked why he looked a little pale. His reasons for looking so had now increased tenfold.

Simply put, Ed was freaked out, and he was never one to freak out easily.

It had started at the Drake wedding when he saw that face in the crowd. Her face. It hadn't been an exact match, but the face was far too uncannily similar. Ed couldn't write it off as some weird coincidence, either. He had undeniably seen the face of his mother, Trisha Elric, in the crowd. He was pretty sure that she saw him, too. Maybe that had been the point. He couldn't be sure. So, after Mustang and he had finished their conversation, he tried to wade into the dance floor and learn the truth. The woman with his mother's face disappeared before he even could.

Had he just imagined it? Ed's short search had turned up nothing but a sense of extreme discomfort and a very immediate and unyielding need to get his family out of there. Winry said nothing, but had cast him a number of disparaging looks. He didn't respond to either those or his kids' never-ending queries. Ed wanted to push the entire thing from his mind, pretend that it was simply his mind playing tricks on him. He thought he could do so successfully…until now.

Because standing amidst the students had been Trisha Elric. Considering that his father had been the one murdered, Ed knew that the likelihood of the two things not being connected was low. That was enough to give him the adrenaline rush of a lifetime. When his car turned back on the highway toward East City, Ed debated about telling his brother what he had seen. However, when he noticed that Al looked far too lost in thought, he decided against it. There was nothing he could currently do about this doppelganger of his deceased mother at the moment. So, why should he feel the need to lay that extra burden on his brother?

Ed gripped the steering wheel tighter and took in a deep breath. All he could do now was focus on his father's murder, and in particular the deadly anesthetic that they had developed and was now being used against others. If that investigation happened to lead to the Trisha look-alike, then he'd have some questions for her, but until then he had to keep his head in the game. Steeling his mind with his decision, Ed settled himself into a comfortable place and completed the journey to East City. Once there, he and Al ate quickly at his home before driving themselves over to the obviously deserted office.

There were a few cars that remained in the parking lot, most likely for security guards on the night watch, but the area was otherwise empty. It was extremely early on Sunday morning, after all. Not even Ed, himself, would head in to the office on a Sunday morning, and Winry had always told him he was practically married to his work (which he'd always argue was untrue). Ed did note, though, that two cars sitting in the lot were ultimately very familiar to him, considering one of them belonged to their boss and the other to Dr. Gold who probably went into work more than Al did. Neither one surprised him and he followed his brother into the corporation's headquarters. The night watchman let them through without a problem.

"Do we have any ideas on where to start?" Al asked the second they stepped into their darkened office. He didn't even take the chance to flick the lights on. Ed nearly scoffed again and flicked the lights on himself. Other parts of the lab, mostly the computers, began to hum to life as the fluorescents above them did so as well. Al had already whipped his own lab coat over his clothes and was in the process of throwing Ed's to him.

"Russell mentioned something the other day when Armstrong and Feury stopped by, but I think we should do some other checking first before we go approaching the theory his observation created," Ed answered his brother, slipping his own lab coat on. Al hummed in assent, walking over to one of their computers.

"Ugh, they still haven't cleaned out their inboxes!" Al expressed exasperatedly. Ed frowned, joining his brother at the computer. "I know they've only been back a day, but the company's starting to send mail to us so we can tell them to clean their crap up."

"Calm down, Al," Ed said calmly. Al looked up in surprise before letting out a laugh.

"Sorry, brother," he apologized with a sheepish rub to his neck. "I must be a little tired."

"Yeah, usually I'm the one cursing people and being told to calm down, not the other way around," Ed chuckled out. This caused Al to look even more embarrassed. "Besides, you know Russ and Fletch have never been good about checking their e-mails, especially when they're working on a project. And we're no better, either."

"Right…You're right," Al admitted, stepping back from the computer. "I guess I'm just…on edge…I never thought dad would be murdered. And just knowing that he's gone…it makes me numb…like it's mom all over again. I'm not sure I can deal with it."

Ed's brow creased in concern for his brother. He was also feeling the same as Al, though for entirely different reasons; reasons that he would not share with his brother quite yet. "When mom died, we were young and it was a complete freak accident that was tragic and no one could make sense of. It's different this time, Al. Dad's death was deliberate murder, and we're old enough to figure it out this time. Dad…I don't think he'd want us to grieve too much. Not until it's all over."

Al absorbed his brother's words with closed eyes. Ed continued to watch him until he nodded. "Yeah. Let's solve a murder, then."

"That's the spirit, Al," Ed said with a brief, but tight, one-armed hug to his brother. "Now, go collect every sample of the drug that we have so we can do a visual comparison to our reports."

"On it!" Al raced off to the back of the lab. Ed put out a tired and slightly bereaved smile, allowing himself to feel those intense emotions for just a moment. Once the moment had passed, he composed himself once more and turned to the computer again. Just before he was about to click on the inventory report, his phone vibrated again. Ed took it out and, with a sigh, saw that Winry was still calling.

He chose to answer this time.

"About damn time, Ed!" she screeched the instant he pressed the accept button. Her voice was so loud that it echoed across the empty office, making it sound like there were a hundred Winrys there. "I've been calling you for hours but you seem to be ignoring my calls."

"I've been busy," Ed defended, though he knew it was a pretty weak defense. Winry let him finish it anyway, even if he could practically feel her impatience through the phone. "Dad was murdered."

"Wait…what?" Winry already sounded more freaked out than he was. "Your father's dead? You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. I saw the body, Winry. That's why I haven't been answering your calls. I'm just trying to process all of this. Commissioner Charcoal also hired Al and I onto the case. Probably the smartest thing he's done in the last sixteen years."

"So, when do you think you'll be home? Eddie and Lizzie have been up a while and wondering what's going on. I've managed to keep Lucas sleeping like a rock but that's only a matter of time." For once, Winry wasn't screeching. She sounded genuinely concerned and Ed never felt more grateful than he did now for his wife's fortitude.

"I'm honestly not sure," he answered her. "Al and I are at the office right now running some leads down. Once we have a handle on things, I'll be home."

"What about the kids?" Ed frowned. In the sixteen years since Eddie had been born, Ed had tried to keep distance between them and the realm of death he used to have a foot in. He had been successful and his children had never been exposed to that world or worried that their father might not come home. Now, those two worlds were about to collide and how everything flowed from here hinged on Ed's decision.

"Tell them what happened. Better to hear it from us than the news." Winry made a noise of assent over the phone and Ed felt he could breathe just a little easier; his wife had always known the right words to say.

"Go get 'em, Ed," were her last words before the line disconnected. Ed watched the phone again before subconsciously nodding in determination. Al arrived back at the desk with the inventory sheet and a tray of the anesthetic vials. Ed cleared his head and turned back to the computer to bring up the reports.

"I did a count. We have about twenty-four vials remaining of the original thirty-six, though considering the anesthetic is already in the distribution stage, I'm not sure how much our inventory will actually help."

"I don't care about the mass distribution of the drug we produced. That'll just be the exact version of our drug replicated. I'm wondering who turned it into a drug that leads to paralysis and that could have only been done by taking our own stuff. Now, let's see here…" Ed had pulled up all the department inventory charts to see just who had borrowed a vial of the anesthetic.

Most other departments borrowed the anesthetic for application purposes. Since AlChemistry hardly did any human drug testing, that was left up to other departments which meant that other areas of Mugear and Company would check it out. Then there were the straight up eight vials used for the mass production process. All in all, Ed noted as he scrolled down, that meant a grand total of eleven vials had been checked out of inventory and had been accounted for elsewhere in the company. So why was an extra vial missing?

"Russell's theory may hold some water," Ed murmured under his breath. Al heard him.

"There's a discrepancy?" Al asked. Ed scooted aside to let Al see the evidence. His brother's frown got progressively deeper as he scanned the page. No doubt he disliked this whole situation as much as he did. Whoever had taken that lone vial was deplorable in both their methods and, most likely, their intentions. Al began to nod as he reached the ending. "How did this happen? We keep this thing under tight lock and key. Only us and the Tringhams have access to our inventory."

"And Mugear, don't forget that," Ed reminded him. He was pretty sure their boss was beyond reproach in any case. "Either way, Russ and Fletch wouldn't go stealing stuff, so that leaves basically no one."

"Unless…they weren't aware they were involved in the theft," Al theorized. Ed barely stopped his eyebrow from raising, willing to hear out Al's idea. After all, he had come up with numerous theories himself that sounded crazy at the time when he worked at the police. "Okay, a lot of times, whoever's taking the sample has to visit the lab to check out the samples. What if someone visited the lab to get another product-"

"-and stole the anesthetic with it. That's genius!" Ed exclaimed, turning back to the computer. Of course, he wouldn't mention that he'd forgotten what Russell had told him. Now, he wanted to confirm it before expounding further. "I'm glad you're around, Al. When Armstrong and Feury asked me on Friday I noticed the discrepancy but I didn't double check at the time. Now that we've confirmed everything, I know what to look for…right there."

"Dr. Gold? !" Al almost shouted. "When was this?"

"Russell said that a couple weeks ago, Dr. Gold spoke with you, so I figured he must have withdrawn something from us. The report says that he took a small compound, but that's also when the Red Tincture unit got reported as missing. The computer must have logged it in but we didn't catch it because it wasn't strictly official."

"He did…I remember that day…" Al mused in concern. "That's when he took it and I was the means to an end. So, the question becomes what did he do to it?"

"What Dr. Gold does best: weaponized."

"Do you think he had something to do with dad's death?" That gave Ed some pause. Dr. Gold may have been a prime candidate for the cover of Mad Scientist's Weekly, but he had never been a bad guy. And he certainly wouldn't leave behind such obvious evidence. If anything, he was working for someone else. If he wasn't, Ed still wasn't at the point of suspecting him; the real suspect was whoever was sold or acquired the weaponized version of the product. Still, Al's question warranted an answer.

"Probably not," he started to say, "but I think there's still a couple questions to ask him."

"Like why we didn't catch the missing vial in the system?" Al asked. Ed rolled away from the computer, standing as he did so. He couldn't give Al an answer, simply because there were more questions that sprung from that one Al had asked. They hadn't found it; every damn vial had been accounted for except for the sudden "lost" one. That had been the one that Dr. Gold must have logged in to possibly account for it, just in case. It had been suspicious when Ed discovered it on his own, yet when he hadn't been able to question Gold about it, he pushed it away.

Now, the coincidences were too great that he had to question him. All Ed had to do was push that woman from his mind.

"Let's go," said the older brother sternly. Al's lips tightened into a thin line and he nodded.

Both of the brothers tossed their lab coats off and left the lab, making sure to lock it behind them. The halls of Mugear and Company were still pretty silent, with only a soft nascent glow lining the way forward. It was enough to walk by but gave an almost haunted feeling to their trek. The elevator trip was no different; no music was playing at the time so all they heard was the hum of the elevator traveling upward to the Weapons Research and Development Division. Unsurprising to Ed was the fact that the light was still on there. He didn't check if Al was still following him before the older blond forged into the maze of tables and machines.

He heard the good doctor before he saw him.

"It may not be the same as the 2075 model, but it's still good!" Gold chuckled out, his comment being followed by a clanking noise. "Doctor Elric, give me a hand will you?"

"No thanks," Ed responded with a slight snarl. It was already creepy enough to know they'd been observed coming in here; he wasn't about to help the guy build a doomsday weapon or something similar (judging by the project Gold looked to be working on). Gold coughed a bit to clear his throat and straightened, a few wisps of his hair falling into his face as a pair of bangs.

"Oh, well," he lamented in an emotionless tone. "What can I do you for, doctors?"

"Remember that talk we had about appropriating medical supplies and turning them into weapons?" snapped Ed. His tone had no effect on the doctor, except for making his toothy grin slip a little, hiding just a bit of his golden tooth. "Al, do you remember?"

"Wait, are you talking about the Red Tincture/Water board meeting?" Ed would have slapped himself at his brother's inability to pick up on the vibe of an interrogation if he wasn't in the middle of one.

"Doctor Elric, you know that I can't answer a question you want answered if you don't ask it directly." Ed thought for a moment about punching the guy in the face, maybe replacing all of his teeth with gold, but decided against that particular violent notion. He was a consultant, but he could still be arrested on assault charges. Instead, the blond decided on a less drastic, but hopefully still effective, method. He grabbed Dr. Gold's chair and dragged him over to the only powered computer. The doctor said nothing as Ed brought up the data that he and Al had just been poring over.

"Mind explaining how a vial of Red Tincture went missing?" Ed spat testily. Dr. Gold blinked once…twice…and then moved his glasses further down his nose to look at the screen.

"Looks to me like you boys have an inventory control problem."

"Stop jerking me around!" Ed yelled, slamming his hands on the desk, causing the entire computer to jump. Al reached forward, as if to stop his brother, but Ed was in the zone. He wasn't going to let Al stop him when he'd gotten this riled up. He had missed this. "Look, Gold, we know you took a vial the day you checked out another sample, and judging from the reports, you and your tech junkies here at R and D hacked in and made it look like we lost a vial. Too bad you're idiots who logged the lost vial at the same time you were getting the sample."

Dr. Gold said nothing, obviously being very good at concealing his tells. He continued to blink, his crisscrossed eyes seeming all the freakier as he did so. Finally, he took in a short breath. "Well, you got me!"

Al seemed surprised that Gold would crack so easily. Ed was as well, but he didn't show it as readily as his brother, only stepping back and etching his scowl deeper into his face. Gold spun around on his chair while Ed scrutinized him. For a moment, he thought the guy was nuttier than a fruitcake until the doctor stopped his spinning and dropped the congenial smile from his face.

"You wouldn't let me at that brilliant anesthetic of yours," he confessed. "It had so much potential as a weapon; that's why I proposed the Red Water Project. It's not my fault that you couldn't see the fascinating applications of the product."

"Fascinating? !" screeched Al. "It's horrifying! That anesthetic was made to save people's lives! We didn't make it for any other purpose. That you retooled it to make it paralyze its victims is sickening!"

"Now, now, no one said that I managed to weaponized it," Gold said with a meaningless wave of his hands. His smile was back while Ed watched the scene between his brother and the doctor in almost growing horror. "I admit that I stole a vial when I last visited you boys to take a different product, but my intentions were pure."

"I seriously doubt that," voiced Ed. "Look, your little weapon, your Red Water, has hit the streets and it's starting to kill people off, or at the very least be used in multiple homicides. Best intentions be damned!"

Dr. Gold's grin dropped off again, making him look all the more eerie. He appeared to swallow something like air before he took his glasses off. With his lab coat, he began to wipe them down and Ed could see all the wrinkles that lined his eyes until he placed them back on. "I cannot be responsible for human life or how the product is used once it leaves the confines of my laboratory."

"What?" Ed spat, almost in a deadpan. "You take no responsibility for human life? !"

"My job as the head of WR&D is to adequately prepare the nation against all form of attacks. If not me, someone else would do it. I am acting as nothing more than a patriot, serving a country that's at war. Do you even realize the number of homegrown terrorists that have cropped up in the country in the last two decades alone? It's staggering, and the first line of defense against them are people like me."

"That's just crazy! Right, brother?"

Ed couldn't answer. All he could do was stare, transfixed on the doctor. A country that's at war. It was such a common rhetoric, but all it served to enhance was the past. Dr. Gold was turning out to just be another Archer. Ed licked his drying lips. "Who…Who ordered you to do this?"

"I'm not authorized to say that, now am I?" the doctor answered cheekily. Al was flicking his eyes between the two while Ed's brain worked furiously. He almost thought he could actually hear the gears in his head grinding together. Then he realized that a door was opening somewhere, and the doctor was speaking again. "He can, though. Can't you, Mr. Mugear?"

"Can I what, Dr. Gold?" Ed had hardly heard the burly proprietor step through the door and approach them, so he turned around slowly to make sure he didn't hit him, wherever he was. As it turned out, Mugear had stopped just a few feet short of them, clutching two cups of coffee in his hands. He moved forward a little slower, handing one of the cups off to Doctor Gold. No one spoke a moment and Mugear took a brief sip of coffee before asking again, "What exactly can I do?"

"Well, the Elric boys were just wondering-"

"Who authorized the transition of our anesthetic into a weapon?" Ed asked abrasively. Mugear's hand drew back as he continued to sip on his coffee. He then lowered the cup and licked his lips.

"I did," he answered simply. Ed's eyes focused themselves into slits and he was ready to lash out, when his brother beat him to the punch.

"The board ruled in favor of not weaponizing it!" Al screamed. "That was the agreement: Mugear and Company could have sole distributing rights over Red Tincture so long as its chemical compound remained unchanged."

"Correction, we were not allowed to weaponized it for mass production," Mugear pointed out, sounding very much like a lawyer. "We didn't. I needed a defense contract, and since no one had produced anything like this on the market, I capitalized on the opportunity. That's why Dr. Gold was in Central over the weekend."

"Exactly how much product did you produce?" Ed asked coldly. He wasn't going to fight them on the fact that it had been produced; that was a bridge long crossed. Damage control was all that mattered now.

"Maybe ten units, right doctor?" Dr. Gold nodded with a grin. Internally, Ed breathed a small sigh; that meant most of the vials had already been used. "We had no intention of selling it anywhere but the Department of Defense and only a few agencies even took a look at the product."

"Do you have a list of these agencies?" Mugear looked at him suspiciously by this point, obviously due to the enormous wealth of questions he was firing off.

"What's this all about, Edward? You usually don't care what happens to your product after it leaves your lab," he asked with a touch of concern in his voice. Ed opened his mouth to answer truthfully, but something held him back. If he blabbed about what had really happened to his father, Mustang's media ruse would be for naught. He curbed his tongue and decided to bend the truth…just a little.

"Your weaponized product has been used in a string of murders recently. Commissioner Mustang called Al and I in to work as consultants on the case," Ed answered his boss. Dr. Gold gave no response to the news, but Mugear looked almost a little sickened.

"Well, that's…that's just…" Al stepped forward in order to stand right before the large man and look him straight in the eyes.

"Mr. Mugear," he began softly, but sternly, "right now, lives hang in the balance. We need to know who had access to this product and for how long."

"Right…of course, boys…" Mugear looked lost, his coffee cup practically falling out of his hand. "Let's…mmm…Let's go to my office."

Ed impatiently motioned for the older man to lead the way, which he did, and the two brothers followed after. The older brother spared only a momentary scathing glance back towards Dr. Gold, who was disgruntledly picking up a phone, then he turned away and paid him no more mind. Mugear was certainly in a hurry, though, as he raced through the now brightened hallways to reach the executive elevator that would take them to his office. He certainly seemed highly agitated as he swiped his key card quickly and repeatedly jammed the button to take him upstairs. Ed refrained from rolling his eyes and simply waited, albeit slightly impatiently, for the elevator to take them to the top floor.

The doors soon opened to reveal the relatively swanky room that Mugear called his office. Brightly lit by the sun now streaming in, Ed took a moment to examine the space. It was heavily decorated, but not overly so. Mostly it was memorabilia from back home, but here and there were various certificates or awards that were embellished in plaques and hung up on the wall. Also of note were the pictures that dotted the landscape of the office: there were pictures of Mugear with famous charity organizations, his family, and even a number of politicians whose campaigns he likely supported with his wealth. Most impressive about the room, however, was the giant glass window that framed his desk and looked over the vastness of East City.

Mugear wasn't interested in looking at the horizon, however, and was already at his computer, clearly bringing up a master list of something. Ed noticed two chairs in front of the desk that looked comfortable, but he chose not to sit. Mugear wasn't sitting either.

"So, we shipped all ten units to various agencies," Mugear said. He was perspiring a little, as though the situation was more stressful than he would have liked. Ed wasn't surprised, considering the man could almost be considered an accessory to murder. "The three military branches took one unit each, but considered it too inhumane and shipped it back within a day or two. The DOD took a few units, about three, which they recently turned back over to us at the meeting on Friday. The remaining four units were taken by the intelligence agency who wanted to use their own scientists to evaluate it. Their liaison picked it up about a week ago."

"You mean they've had that killing machine for over a week? !" Al sounded positively horrified at the notion.

"It's worse than I imagined, actually," Mugear admitted, now taking a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. "They were scheduled to only have three days with it."

Al started to practically hyperventilate, so Ed put a hand on his back to get him to calm himself down. Then he turned to Mugear and, with practically clenched teeth, asked, "Who was the liaison that met with you and has he made any contact?"

"None…I would remember," Mugear assured him. "As for the name, it says here that his name is Jonathan Drake Sr."

Al stopped his hyperventilating to snap a look over to his brother. Ed was already close to feeling his stomach drop out, but he swallowed it down to pull his phone out. "Don't tell anyone else about this but the police." Mugear nodded fervently while Ed finished bringing up Mustang's number and dialed it.

"Fullmetal…haven't gotten a call from you this early in forever," the commissioner answered tiredly. He sounded like he'd been up all night.

"Check out Drake Sr.," Ed told him. There was a small clatter on the other end.

"Elicia's father-in-law?" Mustang asked in astonishment. "He's in East City, though, isn't he?"

"I'm not saying he's responsible, dumbass," Ed snapped. "I'm saying he acquired four vials of the anesthetic that aren't accounted for, the weaponized version. So, check him out and see what pops back."

"All right, I'll put Armstrong and Feury on it," Mustang finally conceded. "Oh, and don't call me dumbass again, you little shrimp."

"Call me shrimp again and I'll-damn, bastard hung up." Ed put his phone away.

"Now what, brother? Should we look into the status of the other units?" Al asked.

"Nah, leave it to the police," Ed said lazily. "For now, I've gotta go tell the kids what happened."

"Good luck."

"Yeah…if only that would help."

Al said nothing else, but gratefully accepted the ride back to his house. Ed promised to update him if anything should happen and began the half hour journey back to Resembool. Winry was waiting to open the door by the time he stepped out of the car. She pulled him into a hug the second he stepped onto the porch. Ed hugged her back, grateful that she was still being strong. Not that Ed wanted to cry or anything, but his current state of exhaustion was highlighting the fact that his father was gone…and his killer was still out there. He gripped his wife tighter as that rage filled him, but it abated when he felt someone else hugging him.

"Is it true?" Lizzie sniffled. "Is Grandpa Hoho gone?" Ed swallowed. How did you talk to a kid about all this, even when he experienced it himself? Ed put his hand onto Lizzie's hair and began to stroke it. He then looked up and saw Eddie in the doorway, holding Lucas to his side. His mouth was tightened, but he remained strong enough to give his father a nod. Ed separated from his two ladies and gave a sad but tired smile.

"Let's go inside."

Funeral planning was exhausting, Ed soon found out. When his mother had died, Granny Pinako had handled all the arrangements while Hohenheim had been on business. Now, it was up to him. It didn't help that the police wouldn't release the body until the case was solved, even with Mustang's influence. Then there was the positive deluge of calls from those who knew him over his long career. It became so maddening that he turned his cell phone off and disconnected the phone after Lizzie had yelled at one of them to mind their own business. She also used a few expletives, but thankfully Winry wasn't around to hear those.

By late night, the kids were exhausted and Winry had ushered them all to bed while he fell asleep on the couch, both his mind and body thoroughly worn out. He didn't even have any dreams, until a sudden ringing invaded his ears. He figured that it must be part of a dream, because he could still remember unplugging the phones. It was only when it wouldn't stop that Ed realized Winry had left her cell on the table. He awoke and reached over to answer with a brisk, "Yeah?"

"Mr. Elric? Edward?" Ed thought he recognized the voice but was still too groggy to identify it. "Sorry if I woke you. This is Detective Brosh, you might remember me. I tried calling you but I couldn't get through until Captain Armstrong gave me your wife's number. Is this a bad time?"

"No, I'm just a little tired. Commissioner Crapsack said you'd be calling," Ed told the familiar detective. He stood a stretched a little. "You're working my dad's case, right?"

"Yeah. I wanted to ask you some questions, to help me get a handle on things. Could you come down to the East City station? I'm heading there now to pick up the forensics evidence that was sent over," Brosh informed him.

"No problem. I can meet you there in half an hour."

"Perfect! See you then." Brosh then ended the call. Ed yawned loudly and placed Winry's phone back down. He debated about telling her where he was gone, but after a quick wash-up, decided against it. She'd forgive him later.

Feeling rejuvenated, Ed made a quick change of clothes and headed out the door. The trip back to East City was quicker than the one the day before. It helped that he hadn't been up all night. Not much later, he pulled into the still bustling lot of the East PD. For a second, Ed marveled at how unchanged the place was since he had worked there. In a small way, it almost felt good to be back. All too quickly he heard Brosh calling his name from the steps. Ed moved to join him.

"It's been a while, huh, Edward?" he asked congenially.

"Sure has," Ed replied with a chuckle. "You're a detective in Homicide up at Central, huh?"

"Just got promoted, actually. I think the Commissioner's using such a high profile case to test me, but I will solve it."

"I've got no doubts. How's Maria?" Ed asked as the two proceeded up the steps.

"She's good, and the kids are, too," Brosh answered but Ed could sense that he was ready to get down to business. "I spent yesterday filling myself in about the case. My sympathies, but I did have some questions. Basic stuff, mostly. Like, did your father have any enemies?"

"If he did, they were probably a bunch of crusty, old University board members who wouldn't know how to stab someone with a pen, much less kill someone in cold blood," Ed remarked.

"I thought as much, but I had to ask. Follow up question, though: was your father into anything different lately? Like a cult or some other threatening activity."

"Not that I know of, but Al was closer with him than I was." Brosh nodded, though Ed noted it was just one of those nods people would give to say something while saying nothing. Neither of them was gleaning much from the conversation. The two turned to head into the forensics lab and Ed caught the faint whiff of home. Even if it was just for a moment, he was back again. Even if some other kid with a huge pair of glasses was where he used to be, he had been able to step inside once more.

"I'm also in the process of getting your father's financial statements, but it may take some time."

"Is that you, Ed?" boomed a loud voice across the lab. Ed grinned when he saw the hulking form of Darius striding over with a clipboard in his hand. "Been a long time. How've you been?"

"I've had better days. Where's Heinkel?" Ed asked. Darius smirked and placed the clipboard down before slapping the younger man on the back. Ed noticed a badge hanging from his coat that put him at Head of the Forensics Department, which made sense since Marcoh had retired years earlier.

"Out in the field. We caught a real nasty murder last night," Darius lamented. "I've been working the paperwork for it on my end all morning. Ricky there was supposed to have your stuff ready by now, but he's no you."

"That's okay. I can wait a little longer," Brosh told the man. Darius grunted and went back into the lab, leaving his clipboard behind.

"Ah! Hey, Darius-" Ed started to say when he picked up the clipboard. Then he saw what it said.

Normally, Ed wouldn't have cared about a grisly scene with his father's murder on the table. This whole thing was anything but normal, however, and Ed no longer believed in coincidence.

Because written on the form was the victim's name and cause of death.

Because Jonathan Drake Sr. was found shot dead three times in a phone booth on First and Elton.

Author's Note: Dun dun dun! That's right, in case you haven't realized, it's the same phone booth and cause of death as Hughes. What's going on? Well, just wait. The middle of this chapter was very difficult because I had screwed something up between the end of chapter 2 and the middle portion here so I had to backtrack, align it with chapter 2 as best as possible and then go back and change that chapter all before I posted it. Anyway, the next two chapters are probably some of the best chapter work in this story. Look forward to them. See you next month. Until then, Review, pass the word on and Dare to Be Silly.