Chapter 4

When they walked into the church, Susan had only just arrived herself, but Jennifer was nowhere to be seen, much to Fraser's disappointment. Then suddenly he noticed all the Christmas decorations. The church had been covered with holly and candles and there was an enormous tree in the corner, even bigger than the one at the Consulate. "Hi Frase!" Fraser and Ray spun round to see Francesca running towards them. "What do you think?" she asked spreading her arms wide.

"You did all this?" Fraser replied, surprised.

Francesca smiled. "Do you like it? I've been here all afternoon. I wanted it to look special for our concert."

Even Ray was impressed. "Wow Frannie," he said, looking around.

Francesca grabbed hold of Fraser's arm. "Come with me Frase," she said, her voice low and husky. Fraser looked back at Ray with fear in his eyes as Ray shook his head in disgust at his sister's blatant flirting. Francesca dragged Fraser over to the side of the church. She stopped and spun him round to face her. Then she looked up to the ceiling.

Fraser had no idea what was going on, but with trepidation, he slowly tilted his head backwards and looked up too. "Oh dear," he said as he saw the mistletoe that Francesca had hung from the rafters.

"Merry Christmas Benton," Francesca smiled and then she closed her eyes, pursed her lips and waited. Fraser stood frozen to the spot. Francesca waited a bit longer before opening one eye and was shocked to see the frowning face of her brother standing where Fraser had been only moments ago. "Ray!" she exclaimed, opening her other eye and slumping her head forward in disappointment.

"Frannie, this is a church," Ray snapped at her, folding his arms across his chest in disgust and glancing up at the mistletoe.

"It's a Christmas tradition Ray," Francesca sneered back at him.

"Throwing yourself at your brother's best friend? I sure as hell have never heard of that tradition before?" queried Ray, sarcastically. Francesca screwed her face up, turned on her heels and stormed off with her head held high. Ray shook his head and glanced over to the piano where Susan and Fraser were talking. He knew Fraser was worried that Jennifer wouldn't show up and he really hoped that she did decide to come. Susan wanted Fraser to try some slight changes to the part he was going to sing and they began to run through them as Ray listened. Half an hour went past and there was no sign of Jennifer and Fraser was quite worried now. He excused himself for a minute and Susan went to make some coffee while Fraser came and sat with Ray.

"Perhaps we should go and look for her?" Fraser suggested. Ray was just about to answer, when Diefenbaker leapt to his feet and barked at the door as it slowly opened and Jennifer stepped in. "Oh thank goodness," Fraser said under his breath and he strode across the church to speak to her.

"Sorry I'm a bit late," said Jennifer, "I, um, I wasn't sure if you'd want me to come back."

"Why on earth would you think that?" sighed Fraser. Jennifer just shrugged. "Come along," Fraser smiled at her, "Susan has made some small changes, we should rehearse them." He led her over to the piano.

"I didn't see anything," Jennifer said suddenly.

"Jennifer, I think you should speak to Ray," he beckoned to his friend to come over, "Detective Vecchio is with the Chicago Police Department."

Jennifer looked suddenly panic stricken. "Francesca's brother's a cop too?" she said.

"Jennifer, it's alright," Fraser tried to reassure her, "he's only interested in apprehending the murderer." Fraser paused for a moment and then added, "He has no desire to investigate, um, your circumstances." Jennifer didn't seem convinced, but Ray had joined them now. "Jennifer didn't see the crime occur, but she may have some other pertinent information." Fraser explained.

"Great," replied Ray, pulling his notebook from his pocket, "now tell me everything you can remember. Even the little things could be important."

Jennifer took a deep breath and told them everything she could think of. She hadn't seen anything, but she'd heard shouting and then when the Police arrived she'd watched from the shadows. "We're all really scared now," she said in a shaky voice, "whoever it is has just picked random victims, it could be any one of us next, how are we meant to protect ourselves?"

"She has a very good point Ray," agreed Fraser, "our usual advice of staying indoors and keeping your doors and windows locked has little or no relevance here."

Ray sighed. "OK," he nodded, putting his notebook back in his pocket, "I'll talk to Welsh, see if we can't get more officers out there."

"Thank you kindly Ray," nodded Fraser, appreciatively as Susan returned carrying a tray of cups.

After they'd finished rehearsing, Fraser wanted to change the dressing on Jennifer's hand before they left. He led her into the back room and she sat in the same chair as she had last night while Fraser began removing the old dressing. "The church looks lovely with all the Christmas decorations," smiled Jennifer.

"Indeed," agreed Fraser, "Francesca did most of the work, I believe."

"I like her, she's nice," Jennifer said, "she said she could lend me a dress to wear for our concert."

Fraser studied her hand under the light. "This is looking much better than it did yesterday," he said and he applied some more antiseptic ointment. As he worked on her hand, he thought about the best way to phrase his next question. In the end he thought the direct approach would be best. "Jennifer, why are you living on the streets?" he asked her.

Jennifer looked away from him. "I had to leave home," she said quietly.

"I'd like to help you, but there's very little I can do if you don't talk to me," Fraser said, gently.

"I'm not going back, you can't make me," said Jennifer in a very determined way.

"Of course I won't force you to do anything you don't want to," he assured her, "but there has to be somewhere else you can go?"

Jennifer shrugged. "It was my decision to go, I had to leave." She slowly turned her head back towards Fraser now.

"Jennifer," Fraser spoke softly now, "were you being abused at home?"

Jennifer shook her head. "No, no, it was nothing like that," he reassured him and Fraser breathed a sigh of relief. "I left because it wasn't fair on my Mom to have to look after me and my brother," Jennifer continued. "My brother's not a bad person, but he kept doing dumb things."

Fraser frowned. "What sort of dumb things?" he asked her.

"He just got in with the wrong crowd and they made him break into cars, snatch purses, stupid dumb things like that," Jennifer explained. "The cops kept calling my Mom to say they'd caught him again. He's only thirteen."

"Oh," replied Fraser, "but I'm not sure I understand? Why did your brother's actions necessitate your running away?" Jennifer suddenly became upset. "Jennifer, it's alright," Fraser tried to reassure her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her eyes with it.

"They found him in a field, he'd drunk, like, a whole bottle of tequila," Jennifer continued, "they had to pump his stomach, he nearly died."

"That must have been terrible for you and your mother," said Fraser gently. Jennifer nodded and cried into his handkerchief. Fraser finished dressing the burn on her hand and packed away the first aid kit, waiting for her to compose herself enough to be able to continue. He moved his chair closer to hers and put a comforting hand on her arm. "Sshhh," he soothed, "it's alright."

"My Mom just didn't know what to do with him," she sniffed, "and then my grades started to slip. I couldn't help it, I was so worried about my brother and I couldn't concentrate any more. My Mom didn't even notice to start with, but then I flunked this big test and they called my Mom in to my school. She went nuts."

Fraser looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "Jennifer," he began, "how old are you?"

"I already told you that," snapped the young woman.

"If you're still at school then the assertion that you're nineteen years of age would appear to be hyperbole," Fraser pointed out. "In fact, if you are of school age, then you're a minor."

Jennifer got to her feet. "I have to go," she said, heading for the door.

"Wait," Fraser said, following her, "look at me." Jennifer slowly turned around. "Procedure dictates that my duty is to alert the social workers, however..."

"Please don't," begged Jennifer, interrupting him, "please, they'll make me go home, or they'll put me in foster care. I'm not a kid any more, I'm...I'm...seventeen." Fraser raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Nearly," added Jennifer quietly.

"Jennifer, I was going to add that I trust you to make your own decision," Fraser continued, "I know you'll do the right thing and I am satisfied that Clara is taking good care of you at this juncture."

Jennifer smiled. It was the first time that anyone had ever trusted her with such an important decision. Her mother struggled so much to deal with her brother's behaviour that she seemed to forget that Jennifer was older than him and Jennifer had often felt stifled in her own home. "I just need some time Benton," she smiled, adding, "thank you."

Fraser nodded in acknowledgement. "At least let me ask Ray to drive you back tonight," he said. Jennifer thought for a moment and eventually smiled and nodded.

xXx

As they drove through the streets, Fraser watched Jennifer out of the corner of his eye and slowly coated his lower lip with his tongue. She was looking out of the window of Ray's car at all of the Christmas lights that were twinkling in the darkness. Suddenly she looked so lost, so young and Fraser began to wonder whether he was doing the right thing. He often bent the rules slightly if he thought it was the right thing to do, far more often than most people realised actually, but he was starting to have second thoughts about delaying calling in the authorities. He glanced across at Ray as they pulled up in the alley close to where Jennifer was living. "I'll stay in the car," said Ray, blowing on his freezing fingers. Snow was still falling and the wind had picked up. Fraser of course had not given the weather a single thought.

As Fraser and Jennifer walked down the alley and Dief bounded ahead, Ray turned to pick up his hat from the back seat and nearly jumped out of his skin. "Pop!" he exclaimed, "can't you leave me alone?"

The ghost of Ray's father leaned forward in his seat. "I'm the ghost of Christmas past."

"Real funny Pop," sneered Ray.

"Why are you bothering with all these street folks anyway?" continued the ghost, "that stupid Mountie needs to sort out his priorities. They're not worth wasting your time on, let 'em kill each other."

"They're not killing each other Pop," Ray clarified, "they're being killed by someone. Either way, no one deserves to be murdered, it makes no odds where they live." Ray shook his head in dismay. "I don't know why I'm even discussing this with you," he said.

"You should have killed that guy when you had the chance four years ago," Ray's father said.

Ray clenched his teeth as the anger rose inside him. "Go away Pop," he said, "that's not how I do things."

The ghost laughed. "You got all worked up over that homeless kid Ray and then you nearly screwed up your whole life over him. If you'd have just killed that guy, at least..."

"Shut up Pop and get out of my car," Ray hissed at him.

"I'm just trying to help you," replied Ray's father, indignantly.

"You never helped me with anything the whole time you were alive Pop," Ray snarled, "all you ever did was make me feel..." Ray couldn't even think of a word to describe how his father had made him feel. Worthless? Useless? They weren't strong enough words. Ray closed his eyes and hoped his Pop would be gone when he opened them.

Meanwhile, Fraser called out for Clara. She eventually appeared, squeezing through a gap in the dilapidated warehouse that she had called home for many years.

"Good evening," Fraser said to her.

"Have you people caught him yet?" Clara snapped at him.

"I'm terribly sorry," Fraser replied apologetically, "but the Chicago PD do have a lot of manpower on the case. We're hoping that they will be sending officers here tomorrow to provide you all with extra security."

Clara nodded and then she looked at Jennifer with concern, realising that she'd been crying. "You OK?" she asked her. "Have the cops been upsetting you?"

Jennifer managed to smile. "No, I'm fine," she assured her.

"OK," replied Clara, not entirely convinced. She put her arm around the younger woman and led her back towards the building and Fraser and Dief watched them go and then turned and walked back towards the Riv.

Fraser opened the door of the car and let Dief jump onto the back seat before placing his hat on the dashboard and sitting himself down. "They don't trust us Benny, it's always been like this. Can't blame them I guess?" said Ray, grateful that his unwanted visitor had indeed disappeared. Fraser glanced across at Ray as he started the engine and his friend caught the look. "Benny, I think you're doing the right thing," Ray assured him. "She's a smart kid, she'll come around. If you force her into doing something she doesn't want to do she'll resent you for it and I don't think that's going to be any good for her in the long term."

Fraser nodded. "I hope you're right Ray."

xXx

The next morning, Ray and Fraser were back out on the streets coordinating all the extra uniformed Police officers that Lieutenant Welsh had sanctioned. Fraser was explaining to two young officers all the places that many of the homeless people liked to sleep, the various empty buildings and other places they went to find some approximation of shelter and warmth.

Ray was talking to Mary. "If you hear or see anything suspicious, just tell one of these guys. They're here to help you," he said.

"Thanks Detective," replied Mary, "we're grateful for this you know." Ray nodded and pulled his hat further down over his freezing ears.

"Ray!" Fraser called out and Ray walked over to him. "Have you seen Clara or Jennifer this morning?" Fraser asked him.

"Nope," replied Ray with a shrug, "maybe they're staying in the warm, at least they've got a roof over their heads in that old warehouse, well, half a roof anyway."

Fraser frowned. "I imagine you're right," he said, "but I'd just like to go and talk to Clara, keep her informed about what we've arranged here."

"OK Benny," agreed Ray, wrapping his arms around tightly around himself as he felt the biting wind blow straight through the five layers of clothing he was wearing. He followed his friend down the alley towards the ruined building Clara and Jennifer had been living in.

Fraser called out for Clara, but got no response. Then Diefenbaker, who'd been slightly distracted by a discarded, half eaten hot dog lying in the snow, suddenly came running up to them, barking loudly towards the building. "Dief, what is it?" asked Fraser, instantly concerned. Dief continued to bark and began to claw at the makeshift door. Fraser and Ray looked at each other, extremely worried now and Fraser quickly pulled open the door. Nothing could have prepared them for the sight they were met with.

The first thing they noticed was Clara. She was sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor, shivering with cold. Then they noticed the knife in her hand and the blood on her clothes. "Clara?" Fraser half whispered, but she didn't respond, she just sat there staring straight ahead. Dief ran towards a pile of old packing crates and Fraser and Ray followed, terrified of what they might find. They were shocked to see the body of a man lying on the floor, his glassy eyes staring eerily up at them. There was blood everywhere. Fraser ran to him, pulling his glove off with his teeth as he did so. He knelt on the floor and placed two fingers on the man's neck to check for a pulse, but he knew he wouldn't find one. He glanced up at Ray, gave a tiny shake of his head and then gently closed the man's eyelids.

Ray crossed to Clara. "What happened?" he asked, sharply, "what did you do?"

"Ray," Fraser called out and his friend spun back around to see Fraser lifting a gun off the floor with a gloved finger. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, this is the weapon used to kill all three victims." Fraser carefully lifted the dead man's right hand and brought it up under his nose. He inhaled deeply and then moved his nose along to the cuff of the man's coat and repeated the analysis. "Blowback," he said to Ray, who had screwed up his face in disgust, "more than twenty four hours old here on his coat."

Ray turned back to Clara. She blinked deeply and looked straight into his eyes. "Someone had to take care of it," she said coldly. "Everyone is safe now."

"Where's Jennifer?" asked Fraser, walking over to join them and unbuttoning his heavy overcoat as he did so.

"I told her to run," explained Clara as Fraser draped his coat around her shoulders and helped the woman to her feet.

Ray pulled out his handcuffs. He glanced at Fraser, sadly and sighed. "You're under arrest," he began as they led her outside.

Xxx

Fraser put his overcoat back on as he watched Clara being bundled into a Police car by two of the uniformed officers. "She felt she had no choice Ray," he tried to explain to his friend. "I just hope the States Attorney will go with self defence."

"Gonna be difficult Benny," sighed Ray, "there were no witnesses. The jury could simply see it as vengeance killing for the other murders."

Detective Jack Huey walked over to them with Esther Pearson. "Found this," he said, holding up an evidence bag containing the man's wallet. "He was an accountant. I guess he just didn't like homeless people cluttering up the city."

"I find that accountants are highly skilled at keeping their violent tendencies hidden," said Fraser, seriously.

Ray looked at him incredulously. "Accountants?" he queried, frowning in disbelief.

"Yes Ray," replied Fraser, solemnly and Ray decided that he would probe his friend further about that statement at a more appropriate time.

"She stabbed him twice," explained Doctor Pearson, jabbing her finger into a slightly stunned Ray to demonstrate the locations of the two wounds, "he bled out. I'm guessing he's been dead about five hours."

Ray drew a sharp breath. "Clara just sat there and watched him?"

"I believe she was in shock Ray," suggested Fraser, "she probably didn't fully comprehend what she'd done initially." Doctor Pearson nodded in agreement. "We have to find Jennifer," said Fraser, seriously, "she's out there alone. She could potentially have witnessed a particularly grisly occurrence and now she'll be cold and frightened."

"If she did witness the killing, then she could be Clara's only hope of avoiding a murder one charge," Ray pointed out.

"Indeed," agreed Fraser. He walked over to Dief who was busy searching for even the tiniest hint of Jennifer's trail. "Anything?" Fraser enquired, crouching down to his level. Dief yapped a response. "What do mean there's too much snow?" snapped Fraser, getting to his feet again, "you're an arctic wolf for heavens sake!" As soon as the words had left his lips Fraser felt incredibly guilty. He got down on his knees again and took Dief's head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I know you're doing your best, it's just that I'm terribly worried about her now." Dief understood.

"Come on Benny," said Ray, slipping on some ice as he came over to them. "She's got five hours head start, she could be anywhere. Elaine's put her description out there, I guess we should stay local. She could be hiding out somewhere."

"Right you are," replied Fraser.

They walked the streets for almost an hour. Ray had lost all sensation in his fingers after about twenty minutes and Fraser had given him his thick leather RCMP issue gloves to wear which had helped a little. Ray had been reluctant to accept them to start with as he was concerned about Fraser's own fingers, but the Mountie had assured him that he could quite easily redirect extra body heat to his extremities for short lengths of time. It was a well practised technique in the Yukon, apparently. Every now and again, Dief would pick up a trail, but then he'd lose it again in the snow. The wolf wasn't even sure if it was Jennifer's trail half the time, but Fraser had more confidence in his lupine companion and assured him that he was giving them enough to conclude that they were at least going in the right general direction. Suddenly, Dief picked up a much stronger scent and starting barking madly at Fraser. "Good boy," smiled Fraser and he and Ray ran off after the wolf. Dief led them down a side street and through a gap in a wire fence and Fraser's heart sank as he spotted the tiny bundle, slumped next to a dumpster, slowly getting covered with snow. "Jennifer," he half whispered running over to her.

"Oh hell no," Ray added under his breath as he followed.

Fraser quickly rolled Jennifer onto her back and felt her neck for a pulse. It took him a moment before he found it, her heartbeat was so weak. "She's alive," he announced, breathing a tiny sigh of relief, but he knew her situation was serious. "Jennifer," he said, desperate for her to respond, "Jennifer, it's Benton," but her lips were blue and he body was limp. Fraser immediately unfastened the large brass buttons of his overcoat, pulled it off and wrapped it around her. "Ray, she needs your coat," said Fraser, picking the young woman up off the floor and pulling her onto his lap so that he could wrap his arms around her. Ray didn't respond. "Ray?" said Fraser, urgently, rubbing his hands over her body in an attempt to increase the flow of blood, "quickly, she's freezing," but then he saw the look in his friend's eyes and realised the poignancy of the request. The memories attached to the last time Ray had given his coat to a young homeless person were still so raw that Fraser wasn't sure what else he could say, but then Ray blinked deeply and took off his coat. He got to his knees and wrapped it around Jennifer and then he took off his knitted hat and placed it on her head, pulling it down over her ears. Fraser looked at his friend and nodded empathetically. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Come on," said Ray, lifting Jennifer out of Fraser's arms, allowing his friend to stand up. "Let's get her to the hospital."