Backstrom: You've Got to be Kidding Me - 4

With Peter and Nadia temporarily absent, Nicole, Everett and Motto continued going over the case files, hoping to find a useful lead. However, the mystery female killer remained veiled in the shadows.

"According to the DNA markers, and the witness statements…as vague as they were...we are looking for a Caucasian woman between the ages of 20 and 30, North European ancestry, average height, fit, long brown hair, brown eyes," Motto read, pacing around the room, a frown on his face as if he was trying to 'see' this person and couldn't quite picture her.

Everett groaned and rubbed his hands across his face. They had burned through most of the night working on this case and now dawn was beginning to peak through the closed shade in the SCU offices. "Oh, that just narrows it down to every third woman in Portland," his surly tone wasn't lost on anyone in the room.

"If she even is from Portland," Nicole added glumly. "Or Oregon in general."

Emily tried to put the best face on what they had. "Well, she is almost certainly still currently in Portland," she pointed out. "Plus, she committed the first murder here. I seriously suspect she was born and raised in this city."

"The first murder that was linked to her was through the DNA evidence," Nicole pointed out in a clinical tone, trying to get her to dial back her enthusiasm for this tenuous lead. Emily glared at her, but didn't say anything.

"Maybe we should warn the public," Motto suggested. "Release the description and the behavioral profile."

Emily understood why he was saying this, every law officer's motto 'protect and serve' but dammit, little miss prim detective sergeant was right. This was a flimsy lead that she didn't want endangered. Emily shook her head. "If she finds out and feels that we're on to her, she could bolt."

Nicole sighed, searching for the behavioral profile in her copy of the case file. "Let's see," she said, looking at the sheaf of papers before she started reading out loud. "Mixed serial killer. Exhibits characteristics of both organized and disorganized serial killers. Seems to blend in pretty well, is careful enough not to leave fingerprints. But also targets random victims, occasionally uses improvised weapons, and rarely disposes of the bodies. Though her DNA isn't in the system, she likely has a prior criminal record, probably juvenile criminal record, for offences such as theft, vandalism, voyeurism, animal cruelty or arson. The fact that she committed the first known murder here in Portland, Oregon, means that she possibly grew up here. She might have had some sort of connection to the first victim, though no leads relating to that have been uncovered." Nicole let out a heavy sigh, looking up at Emily. "How does that help us find her?"

Emily shot her a glare because she hated it when people told her what she already knew. Still, she wasn't the only one floundering. "You have any other leads?" she countered. Nicole opened her mouth, about to instinctively mention the 25th John theory again, but Emily interjected. "Don't, please."

Nicole snapped her mouth shut and looked away. Everett and Moto could tell that comment wounded her, even though she'd probably never admit it.

x*x*x*x*x*x*x

Nadia decided

she had enough of the verbal tennis that Gravely and Special Agent Baker were playing. Peter had snuck out earlier, but to where, he didn't say. That didn't concern the SCU civilian administrator and computer specialist. She had a good idea where he had escaped to.

She took the elevator down to the PPB parking garage and sure enough, there was Peter, directing the flatbed tow truck that carried the charred remains of Everett Backstrom's car into the area of the garage reserved for the Special Crimes Unit.

Peter nodded while motioning for the driver to continue his decent down the ramp. "Keep coming back—slowly now…back, back…"

The tow truck backup signal continued beeping as the truck backed in the space designated for the SCU.

The driver looked out at Peter. "Right here?"

"Yes, this will be fine. Just be careful with it," Peter warned

"Hey, I know what I'm doin'" the driver snapped. With that comment, the bed of the tow truck began to rise slowly.

"Easy, easy, not too fast," Forensic Specialist Neidermayer cautioned him.

The driver merely scowled at him as he continued raising the flatbed while it the same time slowly releasing the tow cable

"Almost there…Whoa!"

Suddenly Backstrom's sedan began to groan and before Peter or Nadia could say anything else, the back half of the car broke free and slid down the end of the trailer, spinning around 180 degrees while spilling the charred remains of the back seat onto the nice, clean concrete floor.

Both Nadia and Peter jumped out of the way when it happened. Tow truck driver looked aghast at what had taken place.

"Sacre Bleu!" Nadia swore in surprise.

Peter had a look of disbelief on his face.

The tow truck driver eased the front end of the sedan down until it was sitting in front of the backwards facing charred rear end of the car. The tow cable fell off the front end of the car with a metallic clang-along with the car's bumper.

"Okay, I gotta go," the truck driver hurriedly said as he lowered the flatbed, not bothering to get out and gather up the tow chain.

"Wait! You need to turn this around!" Nadia said to him while motioning at the back of the bifurcated sedan. When he didn't stop, she began swearing at him in French.

"I just got another radio call for a tow," he said as the put the truck into gear and headed back up the ramp and out of the parking garage.

Peter looked as if he was counting how many minutes he had left as SCU's Forensic Specialist. He stared blankly at the two pieces of Backstrom's sedan, not wanting to believe what had happened.

Nadia motioned hurriedly to a couple of stunned techs who had watched the whole incident. "Help us turn the back part of the car around, tres rapidement!"

They didn't understand what she had just said, but they got the gist of it through her hand motions. They quickly grabbed hold of the back of the sedan along with Nadia and Peter and began to turn it around.

"The Lieutenant is going to kill me when he sees what happened," Peter said morosely as they manhandled the back of sedan so it was facing the right direction.

Nadia gave him a reassuring smile. "Nonsense, you tell him you had to cut the car in two to get a better look at a possible source of ignition, we'll just cover up the front half with a tarp…."

x*x*x*x*x*x*x

The Portland patrol officer sighed, closing his copy of the case file. Emily stood up. "Now, after we have all gone over the facts of the case and got to know each other, I think it's time I take a look at the crime scene," she announced before turning to face Everett, a smirk on her face. "Wanna come with?"

Backstrom realized they were at dead end concerning this case, so he gave her a charming smile. "All right, but I get to drive." Then Everett remembered that his car had been burnt to a crisp.

He gave Nicole a quick hopeful glance hoping she would let him use her unmarked car. To avoid making her boss look bad and another possible battle with the annoying FBI Agent, Nicole graciously gave Backstrom her keys but with admonishment only he could hear as she started to pass them to him. 'Try not to destroy it, okay?'

Everett had given her a peeved look as he snatched to keys out of her hand and escorted Agent Baker out of the SCU bullpen down to the PPB station motor pool.

Once out on the road headed to Lake Oswego, Emily shifted in the passenger seat, studying the case file. Everett stole a glance at her as she read. Seeing that she was deep in thought, he tried to adjust the seat of the Ford sedan to fit his height, but that was always a strangely complicated task, at least in his mind. Usually when Gravely or Moto were driving, he just slumped down in the seat. He couldn't do that and drive at the same time. He missed his old car.

"You sure are flipping through this case file fast," Everett couldn't help but notice.

"A year ago, I took a course on speed reading," Emily said, not bothering to look up as she continued reading.

Everett frowned as he continued glancing over at her as she continued to read. "Did it work?"

"Not yet," Emily reluctantly admitted. "This is another go at it." Why was she reluctant to admit this in front of him? After all, he was just some Portland police detective. Okay, so he was a cute, scruffy city police detective.

Everett sighed, taking a turn to the right. "So... how did you get involved in this investigation?" he asked. "You said you've been chasing your killer since 2014. The first murder was in 2012." His question seemed clinical, but really he was trying to get her to open up about herself.

Emily looked up for a moment, and heaved a sad sounding sigh. "I was assigned to investigate the abduction and murder of Rena Keller."

"It figures," Everett said soberly while nodding. "The FBI is often involved in investigating crimes against children, mostly abduction and murder."

Emily looked up again, surprised that he knew so much about FBI habits. To hide her surprise, and piqued curiosity about this Portland detective, she pretended to watch the scenery outside the passenger side window. "When I got there, the DNA analysis was still in progress," she recalled, somewhat solemnly. "It was done by the end of the day. No match in CODIS. I decided to run the profile through ViCAP and bam!" she exclaimed as she turned to him, making Everett jerk slightly in surprise. The next moment, she was completely calm. "Five matches," she resumed looking at the report. "Of course, once I looked into those cases, I learned about the-supposedly-contaminated swabs. But there were no other leads, so I still looked further into them."

"That is when you really started using the ole' bs," Everett concluded. Emily stropped reading and turned to face him, eyes wide in surprise. Did he say what I think he said? she thought. Suddenly he wasn't so cute anymore.

"Behavioral science," he calmly explained the initials used, realizing she had thought of some other word. He smirked when he realized that.

Emily realized she had almost slipped up and instead nodded her head. "Yes... I noticed the pattern." She frowned at his self-satisfied grin. "You are not too fond of FBI agents, right? Not even when they agree with you." She wanted to see what he said to that.

Ah, so the game begins…Everett chuckled and shook his head. "I like them better than Forensics folks, to be honest," he said, before pulling the car up to a near-by driveway. "We're here." He said announcing the obvious in hope of deflecting her probing him further. After all, they were just starting to work together. Let's leave a little mystery in for now….

They got out and walked under the crime scene tape and over to the front door, reaching into their pockets. They both fumbled, looking around awkwardly, until Emily finally brought up the issue. "You got gloves?"

"No," Everett admitted. For some reason this made him feel embarrassed.

Emily though, wasn't worried about boy-girl impressions at this moment. She was an FBI agent on the hunt. She sighed in resignation at their faux pas. "Screw it, they probably dusted and swabbed the whole place by now anyway."

Everett had to agree with her about that. He liked her style.

She opened the door and they walked in, and immediately headed to the living room. There were a few crime scene techs that were still there, but they didn't seem to take note of them . Detectives come in and out like this all the time, besides the FBI Agent still had her visitor's tag on and of course, they all knew Everett. Emily stopped mere inches away from the armchairs, studying the blood splatters around them.

She stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Well, we are looking for a young Swedish woman, black hair, computer expertise, and a tongue piercing," she announced un-expectantly.

Everett stared at Emily for a long moment. He had a feeling she was teasing him, but she always kept a straight face, so he replied the only way he saw fit. "And?" he said calmly.

Emily turned to face him a serious look lacing her pretty features. "I'm pretty sure she has a dragon tattoo also." She added.

Backstrom's face fell. He glared at Emily. She grinned. "Scared you there, didn't I?"

He shook his head at her antic and walked around to the front of the chair.

Realizing her joke had fallen flat, she got back to reading the report. Good one, Emily, ummm, foot tastes good. "In the forensic report, I read that smeared traces of blood were found on the bedroom door, as well as the bathroom door," Emily said. "So, she murdered the man first. Eliminated the bigger threat..."

x*x*x*x*x*x*x

She walked over to the front of the armchair joining him, noticing traces of blood on it, the floor, and the near-by wall. Michael's body had been removed, so she consulted the photos in her file.

"No signs of a struggle, no defense wounds," Emily reasoned. "She must have sneaked up on him."

She took one more look inside the case file. "So, the preliminary M.E. report suggests that Michael Hill was bludgeoned with a hammer and a wine bottle and then strangled and garroted. A type of hammer still has to be determined. Most of the head wounds are overlapping. Amy's throat had a postmortem slit possibly from a knife. Possibly a switchblade." She frowned, looking up. "There is no mention of a bloody hammer or bloody knife being found on the scene," she noted.

"There wasn't any," Everett explained. "The killer must have taken them with her."

"Meaning that she most likely brought them with her also," Emily concluded, before turning her attention back to the file. "But, I saw the crime scene photographs..."

"The wire was taken from the basement, we're not sure where the razor wire came from," Everett confirmed. "We found the second part near-by."

Emily closed the file, and looked around. "So, she had a knife and a hammer. She bludgeons the man with a hammer, and then uses an improvised weapon, taken from the crime scene, to strangle and nearly decapitate him? Why so many weapons? Did she really hate him that much since he was just a secondary victim? I'm beginning to doubt Michael Hill was just a collateral victim. This murder was personal, at least on some level."

Everett nodded, knowing she was right. On some level he probably had figured that out earlier as well, but for some reason he never verbalized it to anyone.

Emily looked in the direction of the bedroom. "Of course, the main target must have been Amy Davis. She was sexually assaulted, after all, and moved from the bedroom into the bathroom."

Everett nodded his head again, getting the feeling [at least to him] that he was starting to look like one of those bobble head dolls. "After the murder, the killer washed the bed sheets, washed her clothing, put her body in the bathtub, and left the hot water running."

Emily though was too consumed with the case to notice Backstrom's concerns about how he looked to her. "Probably a forensic countermeasure," She concluded thinking aloud. "But it could also be a sign of remorse. Trying to clean up the victim, "wash away" the sins..." she sighed heavily. "Which, once again, might mean that the killer knew this victim intimately."

Emily looked around again. "All the windows were wide open, like usual. But there is no damage to any of them. Nor the doors..."

Everett interrupted her. "Meaning that the killer probably had the key! At least I figured she did."

Emily grinned, observing the living room couch. "Neat." She continued walking around, studying every corner. Then she walked down the hall and looked into the bathroom and inspected the bathroom cabinet. "Maybe Amy's friend," she suggested. "Or a girlfriend… mistress..." She turned to face Backstrom. "Her relationship with Michael must have been... complicated at best."

Everett frowned, unsure of how to respond. Emily chuckled. "So, there is something you didn't notice... There are barely any photographs of the two of them together on display. The couch has been really wrinkled, like somebody had been sleeping on it often. Probably Michael, because... because. Not to mention, the cabinet in the living room/bathroom, the one closest to the couch, is filled with male cosmetics, cologne included, while containing not a single female deodorant, perfume or a shampoo." She grinned. "You should probably check their home computers... laptops... tablets, whatever. And check their phone and email records. Bank accounts too."

Everett gave her a quick nod. "We... my... colleagues are working on that," he said unsteadily. The Head of the SCU hated being caught off guard. Especially by an FBI Agent, even if she was pretty.

He looked around and took a deep breath, a frown appearing on his face as he took in the crime scene.

"I am a killer," he started, ignoring Emily's obvious confusion. "A serial killer. I have already murdered eight people. I want Amy. I want her, I desire her... but I also hate her. She is with a man. They live together. I can never have her. So, I prepare my hammer, and my knife, and gloves. And my key. Tonight, I sneak in. Probably through the front door. I sneak up to Michael, I really hate him. I take my hammer, and hit him over the head, Not satisfied that I've done enough damage I then take the Vodka bottle and hit him again, and again, and again, just for fun. But I am still not satisfied. I really hate him. He disgusts me. In a murderous frenzy, I forget about my hammer and my knife. I take the wire, wrap it around his neck, and choke him until the ligature pierces his skin, then I begin sawing it back and forth. Ooops, too hard, almost sawed his head off. Okay, gotta cool down. Okay. Then, I compose myself, take my knife, and start looking for..."

He stopped, his eyes wide, a look of realization appearing on his face.

"She had to put the hammer down..." he concluded, before walking over to the area around the armchair again. He looked around, and soon focused on a small pool of blood on a near-by cupboard. Emily followed him, despite her confusion.

"Of course", Everett exclaimed. "A pool of blood. Forensics should take a closer look... the shape could help them determine the type of hammer used, maybe find some residue..." He looked up at Emily. "Or so I heard. "

Emily stared at him in awe, her cheeks flushed. "Did you just do..."

Everett frowned not understanding what was going one. "What?"

"Profiling," Emily near whispered, leaning a bit closer to him. She was intrigued that someone was a good a profiler as she was and he wasn't half bad looking either. Truthfully the eating of his fries was just a ploy she used to get a guy interested in helping. But now she found herself thinking about more than just her case. This guy has potential in all sorts of ways….

Everett nervously smirked. "There is no name for my method. I once told Gravely that I see everyone in everyone, the good, the bad…." He looked around. "Unless you want to... linger around some more, I think we can, um, go back to the precinct now."

"Can we stop at a burger joint like McDonalds on a way?" Emily asked as she followed him. She hoped he didn't notice that she was checking him out from the rear.

Everett turned and gave her another grin knowing what she had been doing, because he would have done the same thing if he were in her place. "I had a cheeseburger and fries about an hour ago, so... yes. Except I'm going to take you to Red Robin, their burgers are better." He looked at his watch, it was almost 11:30 am. Hard to believe that they had going over evidence in this house since daybreak. But Emily had made the time fly by. Yeah, close enough for lunch.

They started heading toward the door, when Emily asked another question.

"What happened to your car, anyway?" Emily asked, casually. God that was stupid question! Baker, you couldn't come up with anything else to talk about? Okay, calm down, he'll just see it as me taking an interest in something that happened to him…

Everett muttered shaking his head. "My car?" He wasn't ready for that one.

"You thought I came to your unit because of your car, you had to borrow the car from Nikita..." She reminded him.

"Nikita? Oh, you mean Nicole, er, Detective Gravely," Everett corrected her.

Emily chuckled, half embarrassed. "Yes. Sorry. Red hair..." She turned to face Backstrom. "What's the deal with that?"

Backstrom shrugged. "Well, red hair is relatively common, regardless of what those hack geneticists have been saying." He saw the sarcastic look on her face about that piece of trivial information, undaunted, he continued. "As for my car, that is a long, complicated story... terrifying, really…."

x*x*x*x*x*x*x

Gregory Valentine was sitting at his favorite coffee bar having chocolate mocha latte when someone bumped him causing his face to dip into whipped crème that floated on top of the drink

"You could at least say 'excuse me'."

The guy who had bumped him, a person that could best be described as a young professional snorted and turned. "Look slick, if you hadn't been halfway out in the aisle, that wouldn't have happened to you."

The guy snapped his fingers at the stunned barista. "Hey you, double espresso with milk, on the double, I'm in a hurry!"

Greg wiped the crème off his face and stood up. "Her name is Doris and don't treat her like a dullard. By the way, I'd like it if you'd apologize," he said in a calm voice while staring at the man.

The guy gave him a quick once over. He may talk like Clint Eastwood, but he isn't any threat. "Buzz off beatnik, I'm in a hurry," He turned his back to Greg. "Hey Doris, could you get the lead out, time is money and your tip is fast disappearing," He warned her.

In one fluid motion Greg came around to face him and chopped the man on the front of his neck before he could say or do anything.

The man said something like 'Gack' and doubled over onto heading toward the floor. Greg Valentine bent down and reached out for him before hit the floor and helped him to his unsteady feet.

He looked over at a stunned Doris. "Could you get him a glass of water? I think he's feeling faint," Greg steered him over to an empty booth.

The man's eyes were wild with shock but he still couldn't say anything. "Easy, easy, just breathe," Greg advised him as he settled him into the booth.

The man nodded and tried to swallow.

Doris brought over the glass of water and man's order. "Is he going to be all right?" she asked

"He'll be fine. By way, he wanted to tip you for getting that to him so quickly, right?"

The implied threat was there. The man quickly pulled out his wallet and shoved a twenty into the stunned girl's hands.

"Did you want to say anything else?" Greg said to him in that same calm voice.

The man quickly nodded, his throat still hurt but he managed to get out a squeaky "Sorry,"

"Thanks. Here, let me help you to your feet," Greg helped the man to his feet. "Oh, don't forget your latte."

"Thanks," he squeaked again and quickly made his way out of the shop.

The girl came back over and dropped a handwritten note into Greg's shirt pocket

"I get off at 6," she said quietly to him as she walked back to the bar.

x*x*x*x*x*x*x

John Almond was sitting at his desk re-reading the information about Stefan Marquez, hoping there was something there that he missed before. He didn't notice Amy Grazanian, a member of the Portland Bureau of Police's Civilian Oversight Committee (for Misconduct) when she walked in.

John's cool green eyes flicked from the page to the woman who had just entered his line of sight.

"Ms. Grazanian, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he said with his usual disarming smile.

Amy smiled back. She always enjoyed the way John treated everyone with kindness, be they the scum of the earth or an exalted political official. Why couldn't Everett be more like him?

"The Board would like to have you come next Thursday-"

"-and testify as to the mental stability of my boss, Everett Backstrom?" he finished for her.

Amy flushed crimson. It was that lay preacher manner of his that made her feel like a prostitute caught with a john.

"It- it's a requirement-"

"-for his continued employment with the Portland Bureau of Police's Special Crimes Unit as the unit head," he said again finishing her sentence for her.

She gave him a pained look. "Would you please not do that?"

"Sorry," he said smiling, "just trying to help with an awkward conversation."

Amy knew he wasn't trying to be combative. That wasn't John's style, but maybe he was trying to make a point. "You know I don't like reminding you about this,"

"And yet you still do it," he said blandly as if it were just a statement of fact.

But something told her he was not just giving her a statement of fact. So she responded in kind. "Because it is my job," she said bluntly, not liking his insinuation.

John gave her that soulful preacher look. "Sorry."
She sighed. Was she projecting her feelings about Everett onto John? It was possible. She tried to salvage what she could of this conversation. "Look, I know you don't like it and to tell you the truth, neither do I, but the-"

"Civilian Oversight Committee,"

"Yes, John," she said somewhat testily, "the Civilian Oversight Committee requires that I remind you about your duties to the Committee."

John nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I know, because they believe I will give an honest assessment of my boss's performance."

"Not only do they believe you will, but also because you would feel duty-bound to do so," she replied.

John's friend smile faded. "Then they should also remember that I am Everett's friend as well as his co-worker and that I will not say anything to disparage Everett Backstrom or what he has done for this department and for the Portland Bureau of Police in general."

Amy felt as if she had been wacked on the nose with a newspaper. She started to say something tart in reply but knew that John was only doing what any real friend would do. Amy could hardly call herself that at this point.

"Just please be there," she ended up saying before turning to head out of the SCU bullpen. As she started to head away from John's desk, she took note of a rather gorgeous, well-built blond that was talking animatedly with Everett as they made their way toward the SCU.

"Everett," Amy said calmly to him. For his part the Detective Lieutenant looked from her to Emily and then back again.

"Um, yeah, hello Amy, this is-

Emily quickly reached out her hand and shook Amy's in a professional manner. "Emily Baker, FBI, Ms.?"

Amy was caught off guard by her maneuver, but she quickly recovered. "Grazanian, Amy Grazanian, Portland Bureau of Police Civilian Oversight Committee. What brings you to Portland, Agent Baker?"

"I'm working with your Special Crimes Unit on a series of murders that could be tied to a serial killer," Emily said in her best professional tone.

Amy wanted to say that it wasn't 'her' Special Crimes Unit but a little green eye monster did not like the looks of this so-called FBI Agent. Too much makeup. So she didn't say anything about that comment. "A serial killer, here, in Portland? I hope that Detective Lieutenant Backstrom and his unit have been helpful."

Whoa, so this is my competition, Emily thought as she nodded. Blond, cute, but kind of a pinched face, like she's been eating persimmons or something… "Yes, Detective Lieutenant Backstrom and the Special Crimes Unit has been very helpful in this investigation."

Moto had just dropped off some papers in Backstrom's office and was headed back to his desk when he saw what John and Nicole were witnessing, or trying hard not to witness. There was an obvious territory fight going on and clueless Everett was the property being fought over.

Amy gave this interloper an ingratiating smile. "Well, I should hope so. Lieutenant Backstrom can be somewhat unconventional, and at times abrasive, but he and the SCU are a good asset."

Everett slowly began to realize he had stepped into the middle of something here. Emily and Amy looked like they had forgotten anyone else was in the room, including him.

"I haven't had any problems at all with Detective Backstrom or the SCU. In fact they've been the god-send I've been looking for," Emily said pleasantly, "Are you saying there is something I should know about?" As she finished, she cocked her head like a dog, as if she didn't understand why Amy was being so negative about this group of professionals.

The heads of the three SCU members surreptitiously watching this 'conversation' turned their heads ever so slightly toward Amy like they were watching a tennis match they weren't supposed to watch.

That was a shot across the bow. Amy felt a flash of anger and something else stir in her. Oh no you don't!" Detective Lieutenant Backstrom can be somewhat problematic at times, but overall he's an asset to this unit and our police force."

"But you say he's abrasive, and problematic?" Emily arched her eyebrow. Now she had her. Let's see her try to wiggle her skinny little butt out of this one….

Everett could see that Amy was losing that battle, and he had to admit what she had said about him and the SCU wasn't too flattering, but still, this was Amy, so he came to her defense. "What Ms. Grazanian is trying to say-"

But he didn't get very far because Ms. Grazanian taught her daughter to fight her own battles. She threw a warning look at Everett and then smiled again at this strumpet posing as an FBI Agent.

"What I'm trying to say, Special Agent Baker, is that Everett Backstrom has his personal good and bad points, like everyone does, but he gets the job done, he and his team have saved countless lives, and are considered a real asset, not only to Portland Bureau of Police, but to the city of Portland as well." Before Emily could say anything to that, she charged on. "The Committee which I work is merely ensuring that protocol is followed but overall, Everett Backstrom is an impressive detective with uncanny skills that ensures he always gets who he is after."

Take that!

Emily though was not surprised by her comments. The fact was that she let her know that Detective Lieutenant Backstrom, though considered a little rough around the edges, was a catch. That's okay, she liked them a little rough around the edges. Besides, she was no polished stone herself, unlike Miss Goodie Two Shoe Holier Than Thou Committee member.

"Well, that's good, you had me worried there for a moment, Ms. Grazanian, but if he is as good as you say he is, don't be surprised if in my report back to my superiors that I mention that Detective Lieutenant Backstrom would make an excellent addition to the local branch office here in Portland. She paused for effect. "Maybe even in Washington."

Everett was flabbergasted [and very flattered] by this comment.

Moto was stunned and yet pleased at the same time. Nicole looked like she was going to throw up. Gentleman John had a faint smile on his face. It was nice to hear such warm compliments about his friend, though he knew deep down, it was probably a prelude to getting into his pants, which Everett certainly wouldn't mind.

x*x*x*x*x*x*x

Nicole needed to get out of there. Emily Baker was practically seducing Everett Backstrom, and she couldn't stand watching that. Why, she didn't know. All she knew was that it made her ill watching her antics – especially this territorial fight with Amy. So she decided to drive over to the hospital and see how Steven was doing.

Using her Portland Police Bureau badge to get past the Head Nurse on his floor, and the police officer stationed outside his room, Nicole made her way in, silently slipping inside.

Steven Kines was hooked to several different machines, an IV drip, and a respirator. The sight of him being hooked to so many beeping and whirring machines and seeing how frail and vulnerable he looked lying there in that bed rocked Nicole Gravely to her core.

She hesitatingly reached out and gently touched his scruffy face with her hand and held it there for a few moments. "Oh, Steven," she said quietly as tears filled her eyes.

Steven Kines eyes fluttered open and looked at her, causing her heart to soar. "Everything's going to be fine," Nicole said quietly as tears began to run down her smiling face. She continued to hold her hand against his cheek.

Steven reached up with his right hand trailing his IV and held her hand. Suddenly his face grimaced. Alarms began to sound. Nicole, panic-stricken, looked up with alarm and saw his heart monitor was flashing and beeping furiously.

The door to Steven's room opened with a crash as a nurse came running in. She took one look at the messages the machines were giving and slapped the emergency button on the wall next to his bed. "CODE BLUE! ROOM 412! CODE BLUE!" she barked into the mike.

She cut a quick look over at a stunned Nicole. "Ma'am! You have to leave! Now!" Nicole stumbled out of the room, keeping her eyes on a grimacing Steven the whole time.

She had gotten out of the room just in time as a team of nurses, orderlies, and nursing assistants, lead by a doctor rolled a cart with several machines on it into his room. Nicole stood over at the window that allowed her to look into the room at the hospital staff swarming around ADA Kines.

"BP is one ten and dropping!" one nurse reported.

"He's having trouble breathing!" announced another.

"He's going into cardiac arrest!" the doctor declared urgently.

"Paddles charged!" called out an orderly. Another nurse held the two oval paddles in the air.

"Clear!" barked the doctor as the nurse applied the paddles to Steven's chest.

Nicole almost looked away when Steven's body jumped under the assault from the cardiac defibrillator.

"Anything?" The doctor said as he put his stethoscope on Steven's now exposed chest.

The nurse who had been monitoring his vitals nodded. "He's stabilizing!"

The doctor pulled his stethoscope away from Steven's chest while shaking his head. "His breathing is still labored! I don't like this!" He looked up at the nurses and orderlies.

"Let's get him out of here now! Prep OR three! Stat!"

"Yes, Doctor!" one of nurses replied before running out of the room and down the hallway past a stunned and frightened Nicole.

In a moment two orderlies arrived with a wheeled gurney and bulled their way into the already crowded room.

"Ready?" one of the orderlies asked urgently.

The doctor quickly nodded. Everyone in the room seemed to grab the sheets underneath a now unconscious Steven. "One, two, three, shift!"

They quickly lifted Steven onto the gurney as the nurses pulled his IV off its mount and hooked it onto the stand on the back of the gurney.

They quickly wheeled Steven Kines past Nicole as she flattened against the window, watching as the group of nurses, nursing assistants, orderlies, and the doctor headed down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.

x*x*x*x*x*x*x*x

Nicole sat staring

blankly at her terminal. She didn't notice Nadia walk over toward her desk.

"Nicole," she said to the Detective Sergeant.

Gravely, though, didn't move. Her mind was turning over and over her last conversation with Steven Kines.

"Your 25th John is in law enforcement-"

"So? You've taken down corrupt officers and politicians before-"

"Not like this one-and he has friends-the right kind of friends, and he is well connected."

"How well connected?"

"So well connected that he could have gotten you fired—fired and brought up on charges. So I made a deal with him. I told him that I would take care of it—that you wouldn't be a concern anymore."

Nadia moved closer to Nicole, maybe she just didn't hear her "Nicole," she said a little louder.

"My 24 convictions-"

"It was either that, or have you face corruption charges, multiple felonies, solicitation…you would have been disgraced and financially ruined."

"But I was doing good work! You know I was!"

"I do, that's what brought you to my attention in the first place…"

"…but you snared the wrong person, wrong place, wrong time. He's powerful and very vindictive."

Now Nadia was almost beside her, what was wrong with her? "Nicole!" she said sharply grabbing Gravely's arm.

"How powerful?"

"I've said enough-"

"Steven,"

"Nicole- Uhnnnnn!"

The crack of a high powered rifle made Nicole Gravely flinch. In slow motion, in her mind's eye, she saw Steven Kines eyes' bulge as he grabbed his abdomen, grunting and doubling over. Nicole drew her service weapon, flipping it off safety, and ducking behind a nearby car. From there she did a scan of the area. Nothing. Then she saw him grimacing as a team of nurses and doctors worked on him. Clear!

Nadia reached out and shook the SCU Detective Sergeant's arm. "Nicole!"

Nicole Gravely started. "Huh? Wha-?" She looked as if she had been a thousand miles away and now was suddenly jerked back here.

The French born PPB civilian administrator and computer expert was alarmed by that look. It was a haunted look. One of pain and guilt…and something else. "Nicole! What's the matter?!"

The disturbed look on Nadia's face was all it took. Nicole burst into tears. Nadia gathered her friend into her arms. "Oh, cher, what is it?" she whispered quietly to Nicole as she held her. Gravely seemed to collapse into her friend's arms, shaking uncontrollably while she cried.

"St- Steven's been moved to ICU," Nicole stammered between sobs as she held onto Nadia like she was life preserver. "They won't let me see him. Th-They called in a crash cart while I—while I-while…." Nicole began crying again in earnest, her body wracked by sobs.

It was obvious that whatever had happened had shaken Detective Sergeant Nicole Gravely to her core. Nadia pulled back and looked at her face-to-face. "Oh honey, c'mon, we're taking a break before the others get back from lunch." She got up and took a still crying Nicole by the hand and began to lead her out of the SCU bullpen.

"Wh-Where's B- Backstrom?" Nicole asked as she looked around, her voice husky from unshed tears.

Nadia turned and gave her friend a reassuring smile and patted her hand. "Don't you worry about him. I'll leave a note on Peter's desk, he'll cover for us."

x*x*x*x*x*x

Everett and Emily were back

in his office.

Emily looked around and gave the office a cursory sniff and smiled. God, how she loved the smell of stale tobacco mixed with the odor of junk food. It was like they were soulmates. His office looked like a cyclone had roared through his file cabinets. Not as bad as hers, but pretty close. Good, she couldn't stand neat-niks. They were always on her to clean up her office, her car, her apartment. Nag, nag, nag. This guy probably wouldn't nag her, no, he'd probably make love to her right here amidst the pile of fast food wrappers and overflowing ashtrays. She felt herself getting turned on by that very thought.

The SCU had his back turned to her looking out the window at the developing rain clouds. "So you wanted to talk some more about the case," he said in what he hoped was a professional tone. The last thing he needed right now was another visit with the folks at HR.

"The case? Yeah, sure, the case, yeah," she said distractedly as she tried to sneak another look at his butt. It was a cute butt.

Everett turned around and gave her a curious look. "Are you all right?"

Caught. "Me?" she practically squeaked, "I'm fine, just a little distracted by the tobacco odor." Good save, there, Em. Real smooth.

Everett looked hacked. "Sorry, I'm a closet smoker and pretty much a slob. I'll get Moto in here to get these ashtrays. I'm really not even supposed to have them in here-"

Emily stood up and walked over to him putting her hand on his arm. "No! No, it's okay, I like the smell, in fact, I kind of miss it."

Everett felt like his arm was on fire—a good kind of fire. "You do?"

Emily was busily rattling away with her explanation, not really listening to him, hoping that her chatter would distract him and keep her from getting written up for inappropriate comments, again. "Yeah, I quit cold turkey last week, orders from the agency doctor."

Everett felt he was talking to a kindred spirit. "The departmental physician said I should give them up as well, he said they'd kill me-"

"Want to light up?" she said like they were sharing dirty secrets.

Backstrom's eyebrows rose into his tousled hairline. "Are you serious?"

She nodded while biting her lower lip as if embarrassed by her admission. "I've been dying for one since I got off the plane."

Everett quickly walked around to one of his desk drawers, ripping it open and threating to start a paper avalanche from his desktop. He hurriedly fished out the cigarette package and opened it for her. "Here, I hope this brand is okay."

She gave him a pleased smile as she sat down. "It's my favorite. Light me up, big boy." Everett fumbled for his lighter but quickly got hold of it and lit her cigarette tip.

Emily leaned back in her chair and deeply inhaled causing the cigarette to glow red. She puffed several smoke rings into the air. "Oh god," she moaned, "That is so good." She took another puff and then leaned forward with a lecherous grin on her face. "Have you got any of that hamburger left?"

Everett opened the bag he had set on his desk and gave her what was left of her burger. "Here, you can have what's left of mine. I wasn't as hungry as I thought." Truth be told, he was hungry. But it was a different kind of hungry. He wished she'd stand up or bend over or stretch….

She smiled wolfishly at the curled up remains of the hamburger as she took it in her hand and quickly unwrapped it. She gave Everett a wink as she sank her teeth into the sandwich. "Thanks…oh man, this is living," she sighed. That's when she saw that look. Like she had the burger smeared all over her face. "What? What are you staring at?"

"I—I—You." Everett was having a hard time keeping in mind that she was a federal agent. He was having all sorts of inappropriate thoughts about her and what he'd like to do to her.

Emily felt herself flush. "Me?" Was it because she was embarrassed or was he as turned on as she was?

The SCU Head wasn't sure what she was thinking at this point. So he wanted reassure her that he wasn't thinking anything bad, dirty maybe, degenerate, but not bad. "You're not doing anything bad, in fact, you're—you're perfect."

Now Emily felt a flutter in her chest. "Perfect?" she said barely above a whisper.

Everett's toes curled as he nodded. "You love fast food, you smoke, I bet—I bet you like beer."

"I do, but unless you have a secret stash in here." She glanced around the office. You could hide an Abrams tank under some these piles. "You don't have a secret stash in here, do you?"

The Detective Lieutenant shook his head, really wishing he had put a stash in here. "No."

She shook her head in disappointment. "Damn, that would have made it perfect, you know." She got up and saw he was staring at her, again. "What?" This time the question had a seductive lilt to it.

"And you, you're – you're making me horny." There, he said it. HR be damned.

That seductive smile was back. "Well, if we're going to be blunt, I almost had an orgasm when I walked into this office, and you're not half bad looking either," she said with a teasing smile.

"Half bad?" He couldn't tell whether she was joking or not.

Emily grimaced realizing she had screwed up the moment, again. "Sorry, I was trying to be coy. I suck at being coy."

But that was far from the truth as far as Everett Backstrom was concerned. In Emily, he saw a wild night in bed, maybe a few days too. "Me too, say after work, if it's all right, would you like to go out, get a few beers?"

Emily felt uncharacteristically nervous. She'd had lots of men, in lots stranger places. So why be so unsettled about going out with this hunk for beers. "I—I was hoping you'd ask me that." Wow Em, that didn't sound needy at all. She cleared her throat. "Yes, I'd love to go out for a few beers and maybe some extracurricular exercise? I could use some, you know, to stay in shape."

Everett nodded giving her a lusty smile of his own. "Exercise is good, especially after a good meal."

x*x*x*x*x*x

Nicole and Nadia sat at a back table next to the window in the nearly empty break room. An early afternoon shower had just begun outside. Nadia sat down at the table and gave her friend a cup of steaming tea. "There, hun, feeling better?"

Nicole's face was still puffy and red from her most recent crying bout. She gave Nadia an embarrassed look as she dabbed at her eyes with a wadded up tissue. "A little, Nadia, I'm sorry about-"

Nadia patted her hand again and gave her another understanding smile. "Don't worry about it. No one saw you, just me. It'll be our secret, yes?"

Nicole gave her a weak smile in return. "Yes, I mean, sure. Thank you."

The French born SCU computer specialist nodded her acceptance of Gravely's words. "We girls have to stick together. Whatever you tell me, will be between us girls, yes?"

Nadia had done this to her before. While she was Nicole's best friend—make that the only female friend in the SCU, she did have a habit of asking uncomfortably probing questions sometimes. Maybe it was just her way. Nicole lowered her voice as she leaned in closer. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

Nadia nodded her head solemnly like she was taking some sort of secret oath. "I promise,"

Gravely looked around to make sure no one was close to their table and lowered her voice a little more as she took her Styrofoam cup of steaming tea in both hands. "I think I'm still in love with Steven." There, she said it. It was out in the open.

For all of her prying questions up to this point, Nadia seemed non-plussed by this admission. "This is the man who threw you to the pigs…I mean, dogs? No?"

Nicole was confused by her action and comment. "Yes…and, uh, no."

"Do you feel guilty because of what happened to him?" Nadia asked her in a questioning voice.

Nicole couldn't believe what Nadia had just asked her. She had just bared her soul to the only other woman in their unit and now she was questioning her motives for saying it?

"What? No! But what's happened to him…that's made me…realize…that I do love him." She gave Nadia a pleading look. Hoping since she was French, she would understand.

But Nadia Paquet, for all of her teasing with Backstrom and her current relationship with Peter Neidermayer, revealed herself to be more of a practical woman than a romantic. "Oh Nicole, but what about the trust issues you two were having?"

True, the trust issues had been mentioned before she went to that fateful meeting with ADA Kines that evening, but Nadia needed to know what had changed that. "Steven confessed right before he was shot that he exposed my operation because he was forced to…and to protect me."

Nadia gave her friend a questioning look about that last part. "Protect you?"

Nicole nodded. "Yes…my 25th John was…is someone very powerful in law enforcement."

Nadia immediately put her hands on Nicole's. "Mon Dieu Nicole! Listen to me, cher, you have to tell Everett! Toute suite!"

Gravely couldn't believe what she was hearing from Nadia. "What?! Are you kidding?! He already thinks I slept with half of Portland! And if Agent Baker gets a whiff of me having a fling with ADA Kines-"

Nadia held her hand to still her objection. "Don't worry about that, cher, you let me talk to Everett."

"Nadia, I can't let you do that," Nicole said urgently. The last thing in this world she wanted right now was Nadia blabbing to Everett Backstrom. She had done enough of that herself already. She was still reeling from what she had told him in her drunken stupor the other night.

But Nadia wouldn't listen to her objections. "Nicole, this is eating you…what's the phrase, ah yes! Inside out. Everett will understand once I explain it to him."

Great. So much for keeping this between the two of them. "Okay, but there's something else you need to know," Nicole replied, deciding that she didn't want Nadia blindsided by what Backstrom already knew.

"What's that?" Nadia asked.

"Steven told me that Amy Davis was tied to my 25th John as well." So now she and Backstrom would on the same page when she talked with him.

"You mean that the Amy you knew when you were undercover is that Amy?" She and Nadia had talked before about her time undercover and how she and Amy Davis had become good friends, well as 'good friends' as they could considering Nicole was living a lie. Still, she and Amy had built a rapport of sorts, so Nadia deserved to know this part as well.

"Uh huh," Nicole replied. She wondered if she was doing the right thing telling her this. Well, her emotional meltdown in the SCU had lead to this….

Nicole could see that Nadia was having a hard time processing all this. "Does Everett know?"

Okay, now to hit her with the kicker. "Yeah, and that the 25th John had ties to Michael Hill as well."

x*x*x*x*x*x

The Wabacoochie County Sherriff sat

with his feet propped up on his desk, as he watched the latest breaking news report from Portland.

The reporter was petite brunette with lots of bouncy curls and dark penetrating eyes. She wore a mask of concern as she continued her report. "…and as of this afternoon, Assistant District Attorney Steven Kines remains in critical condition. Reporting live, Johanna Lively, News Channel 7."

I bet she is lively, Blue thought with a lusty chuckle as he shook his head and turned off the television. She was cute, but right now he had more pressing concerns. He had warned that idiot who ran the Multnomah County Sheriff's office against doing this, but he did he listen?

Hell no.

And now look what a mess he had made. All he had to do was threaten Kines and this would have never happened. But no, he had to panic right along with that moron that was running the Portland Bureau of Police's Drugs and Vice Division, and this was the result.

This was definitely Blue Bear's work. And that idiot savant 'son' of his who could 'read' people would quickly figure out that 1st Nation Oxblood former army sniper, Tommy Blue Bear, was the one who shot Kines, and once he caught him it would be only a manner of time before it all came crashing down.

All that hard work down the crapper. Luckily, he was only tangentially involved. Blue had made a deal with the 1st Nation Tribal Council that as long he caught any poachers on their land, he could run Colstrum and Scone's clients through the Reservation's casino.

It was a great little operation that laundered their money and gave him and the tribe a nice percentage fee for their services. But that gravy train was in danger of derailing now, thanks to those two idiots. Well, there was no use in crying over spilled milk. The tribe would re-coop their losses through the casino. He got up and stretched, looking out his window. The rain was slacking off and he knew the poachers, especially Jimmy Two Trees, former tribe member, would be out there getting all the fish and wildlife they could before nightfall.

Blue put on belt and holster and his 'smokey bear' hat. It was time to go earn his pay, and get his annual protection fee from Jimmy Two Trees.

x*x*x*x*x*x

Frank Moto walked down the hall toward the Special Crimes Unit offices. Because it was still early, not all the hallway lights were set to come on yet, making the semi-dark seem somewhat comforting. Much better than the harsh lighting that greets everyone later in the day.

Moto took a sip from his coffee cup as he walked into the bullpen area. He looked over at the 'evidence wall', as they called it. So many deaths; could they really be tied to the shooting of ADA Kines? It was obvious that Nicole was clearly upset about Kines being shot—there was definitely more to that. Had Nicole Gravely really been in a relationship with-

"You're here early, Frank."

Moto turned and saw John Almond sitting at his desk looking at his terminal.

The PPB patrol officer smirked at seeing the senior SCU detective here. Oh course John was here. "John, you have any idea why Backstrom wanted us in this early in the morning?" he asked.

John looked up from his terminal and gave that patented friendly father-confessor look. "You usually get here about this time anyway, don't you?"

Moto chuckled at that. "Yeah, but what's your excuse?"

John shrugged. "I needed some quiet time I couldn't get at the house to organize my thoughts for tomorrow night's sermon," he looked back down at his terminal and continued typing.

"What's gonna be your topic, preacher?" Moto asked as he came over to John's desk.

John stopped typing and looked up the Portland uniformed officer. "The wages of sin…."

"Ooo, I like that one. Peter, could we go?"

John and Moto looked up to see a curious Nadia Paquet and Peter Neidermayer making their way into the SCU bullpen. It was no secret that they were dating. But since it was so early, they wouldn't draw too many judgmental looks coming in together like this.

Peter looked at John who gave him an almost imperceptible nod of acceptance. "I don't see why not," he replied.

"You two are here early," Moto observed making a statement of the obvious.

"Backstrom told us there was an early morning meeting, so here we are," Peter replied.

Apparently this was an 'all hands on deck' meeting. Now the only person missing was Nicole Gravely.

Nadia had turned her head and was following a dark haired young woman wearing a black rain coat who had just entered the room. Peter, John and Moto did the same.

"Can I help you, miss?" Moto said as he moved to intercept her. Whoever she was she seemed to know her way around the bullpen as she headed directly for Nicole's desk. Maybe this was someone that had made an appointment to see her. John started to get out of his chair as well.

The dark haired woman looked directly at John. "It's all right John, Moto, it's me, Gravely."

Nadia started. "Nicole, tha- that is…incredible!" she said in amazement at her friend's transformation. Peter and Moto had stunned looks on their faces as well. There was a slight resemblance to their fellow officer and friend, but the clothes, the hair, and the make-up had pretty much obliterated any traces of Nicole Gravely, Detective Sergeant in the PPB's Special Crimes Unit.

"This was part of your undercover persona?" John asked as he gave her a visual once over. To him, this lady looked nothing like Detective Sergeant Nicole Gravely.

Nicole gave them a quick nod as she sat down at her terminal and began typing in typical Nicole fashion. "Yes, I'll explain more in a moment…."

x*x*x*x*x*x

Nicole Gravely looked out at her audience. She wasn't much for public speaking, but at least here she was among friends, well, most of the group anyway. She cleared her throat as she looked at them and Special Agent Baker who had just arrived with Everett Backstrom. "I know all of you have heard the rumors. Well, now I'm going to set the record straight. I may look a little different this morning, but that is because you are seeing me in my undercover disguise as Laura Renee Walters."

A little different was an understatement. Detective Sergeant Gravely now had coal black hair stopping at her shoulders in bouncy curls. She had shed her raincoat revealing she was wearing a hot pink sleeveless wrap dress with a plunging v-neckline which accented her enhanced chest area thanks also to a wonder bra. She wore black nude stockings and hot pink strappy high heel shoes. Her heavily made up face (eye shadow matching her clothes, heavy black eyeliner, black thickened eyelashes, rouge on her cheeks and hot pink lipstick) was accented by flashy gold dangling earrings. Though heavy on the make-up, it didn't look caked on. No, actually it looked like it had been done by a professional make-up staff.

She paused and licked her lips, ducking her head for moment before she looked up and continued. "…before I came here, I was assigned to Vice under Detective Lieutenant Scone."

Nicole saw looks of sympathy on the faces her fellow team members. Agent Baker, she couldn't read. Undaunted by this, she continued.

"There were reports that the Russian Mob and the local criminal syndicate in Portland were trying to make in-roads at Mademoiselle Faberge's Night Club and Cabaret."

At mention of this information, Nadia eyebrows raised. John, Peter, and Moto's faces though, were unmoved by this information. They were well aware of the problems these two groups had caused the city.

"Lieutenant Scone sent me in undercover as Walters, with the District Attorney's blessing, to find the Mafiya infiltrators. At the same time, I was also tasked with neutralizing any criminal elements that may have infiltrated the club and Alyssa Timshenko's escort service."

Nicole paused as a flood of memories about Steven hit her.

"Working with ADA Steven Kines, I found and arrested drug dealers, human traffickers, child molesters, rapists, and other persons of interest, including notorious 'Johns', let in by the Mafiya and syndicate infiltrators. Ms. Timshenko and those arrested knew me as Ms. Walters, a confidential informant for the Portland Bureau of Police."

She paused again, noting that Everett Backstrom was listening to her every word, most likely trying to get into her mind.

"We were doing well until I ran across a 'John' – I'm not even sure which one – who found out who I really was, and blackmailed ADA Kines into shutting down the operation and overturning my previous twenty four convictions in connection with this sting operation. I didn't know it at the time, but ADA Kines did this to protect me. ADA Kines then told me he and Lieutenant Scone were going to have a press conference about the operation and that Walters had violated informant policy by engaging in prostitution and all cases involving Walters would be dismissed. That was better than revealing who I really was. Though my cover took the fall, ADA Kines and I thought we had saved all those involved. Turns out I was wrong. Lieutenant Scone came to me later and told me I was going to be brought up on misconduct charges. He gave me a choice – resign from Vice, or be fired from the Portland Bureau of Police. If I resigned, the charges would be dropped. So I did."

Nicole could now see anger on faces of the members of Special Crimes Unit, Everett Backstrom, and Special Agent Baker. But it was not anger directed at her, but at what had happened to her.

Peter was the first to speak. "Did the public ever find out that you and Laura Walters were the same person?"

Nicole shook her head. "No, fortunately, they didn't. Laura Walters took the fall for me, and I got kicked out of Vice. At the time I thought ADA Kines had betrayed me."

"But he hadn't," John said speaking up. "He had done his best to protect you against a powerful adversary."

Nicole ducked her head again and then looked back at John. "Yes. And he paid for telling me about what he really did by ending up in the ICU in critical condition."

There was silence for a moment as everyone thought about that.

"Do you think that the 25th John is our serial killer?" Nadia finally asked.

Nicole looked directly at Agent Baker. "I did, but now I think that the 25th John is just using him or her to tie up his loose ends." Emily smiled at that admission.

"So we have two people we're after," John said summing up what they had just been told. The 25th John and our as yet unknown serial killer, what's our next step?"

"Our next step," Everett said getting up and moving toward Nicole, "is to find out what Amy Davis knew about our serial killer and the 25th John."

"A person like Amy must have had a diary," Emily Baker added.

"It wasn't found at the crime scene," Peter noted.

"That's because we weren't looking in the right places," The Head of the SCU replied succinctly. "With what Gravely has given us, now we know where to look."

Emily nodded. "Amy would have kept this hidden-afraid that the 25th John would try to steal it or destroy it. But Gravely can't be directly involved with any of this. Scone may be working with 25th John and if that's the case, we could all end up in trouble."

"So what is she going to be doing?" Nadia asked.

Everett looked at Nicole. "Gravely is going back undercover as Laura Renee Walters at Mademoiselle Faberge's with an eye toward finding our serial killer, while we go back to Lake Oswego and find Amy Davis' diary before Scone or 25th John find it."

"Won't Scone find out about Nicole, I mean, Laura, going back to Mademoiselle Faberge's?" Moto asked. It was a good, and obvious, question.

Backstrom nodded. "That's what we're counting on. And, for it to rattle him and the 25th John enough to get them to come out in the open."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Nadia replied. It was evident she was worried about Nicole.

Backstrom nodded again. "Yes, that's why Moto and Agent Baker will be there with her at Mademoiselle Faberge's as well."

Moto seemed unperturbed by this announcement, but Emily looked momentarily startled at that declaration.

"Now our biggest problem is getting Laura Renee Walters' backstopped background," a quickly recovering Emily added. "We'll need that to put this ruse into motion."

"What do you mean? You don't have it?" Nadia asked both Emily and Nicole at the same time, "Where is it?"

Nicole sighed, "It's the property of Detective Lieutenant Scone. It's stored on his personal computer which he almost never connects to the internet. Without it, this operation won't have a chance of getting off the ground."

"Are you sure he still has it?" Peter asked.

"Scone never got rid of it, as far as I know…" Nicole replied wistfully.

"Why?" Moto asked. It was another good question.

And Backstrom had the answer. "It has to do with his personality," he replied. "Though he thinks Gravely goofed things up, he still sees it as a trophy. One of his great accomplishments,"

"Then all we have to do is a get a copy from the original," Nadia replied smiling.

"How do we do that?" Moto asked. He didn't know why Nadia was smiling. It didn't sound so simple to him.

"Leave that to me," John replied.

x*x*x*x*x*x

Nathan Lovejoy shook

his head. "John, I don't like this," he declared to his former partner. He had been lured to the SCU with information about a break in the Hill/Davis murder case. He didn't know that it entailed what John had just told him.

John Almond smiled at him. It was that easy going friendly preacher smile of his. "Nathan, it's really easy. All you have to do is plug in this SD card, into Scone's personal computer. Nadia will be there with you," he showed Nathan the electronic earwig as if to emphasize the point. "the whole time, I promise," he said reassuringly.

Nathan looked over a Nadia who nodded enthusiastically. But that did nothing to allay the homicide detective's fears.

"Why can't some member of your squad do this, John?" he asked while pushing his horn rimmed glasses back up on his nose.

At this comment, Everett threw up his hands in exasperation and groaned as he got up and began pacing. Emily reached out to still him. Nicole and Nadia mirrored his groans and looks. Moto shook his head and hissed disgustedly. Neidermayer scrubbed his face in frustration.

But Big John was his usual smooth, in-control self. "If Scone finds any of us are involved, he'll figure out what we're up to and we want to control when he finds out," he said honestly.

Nathan though, still wasn't on board. "What do I do if you I get caught?" His glasses had slid back down to the tip of his nose.

"Knowing you, Lovejoy, I'd cry," Everett said snarkily.

"Don't listen to him, Nathan. You're not going to get caught. Scone won't be in the office at the time. At worst, you'll run into the office custodian on her rounds," Nicole said as firmly as she could. The last thing she wanted was Backstrom chasing off their only possible chance at getting this data from Scone.

"What if she's on Scone's payroll?" Nathan persisted.

"Mikela has been with the Portland Bureau of Police for years and she cleans all the offices, man. Just tell her you needed to drop off something for Scone, she won't think twice about it," Moto offered. His words made sense. Mikela really didn't care who did what in the PPB, so she wouldn't question why Lovejoy was in Scone's office. That was above her pay grade.

Nathan though, still wasn't convinced. "I still don't like it," he said sourly to the group while pushing his glasses back up.

"That's because you're a worrywart, Lovejoy," Everett shot back disgustedly.

Emily gave the Head of SCU a cutting glare before getting up and grabbing the homicide detective by his shoulders and staring into his eyes. "Detective Lovejoy, listen to me. You can do this, I know you can."

"Y-You really think so?" Nathan said hopefully like he really wanted to believe he could do this. He pushed his glasses back up and smiled at her. It appealed to the man in him who wanted to be a hero. Skeller would certainly take notice of him then.

"I know so," Emily said with conviction while nodding and giving him a big sexy smile.

Everett Backstrom rolled his eyes and snorted. Both Nicole and Nadia slapped at him for his outburst.

To be continued...