Long chapter is long. Also, notifications aren't working properly. I got the notifications for chapters 3 and 4 days after I posted them. Not impressed. Anywho. Nothing -too- exciting in this chapter until the end. Just more information in general. Also, I apologize in advance if you're really itchy and/or grossed out after reading this chapter. -Babs


Chapter Seven

Natalia scanned over the notes on her laptop as the train fell into silence. She was going to be giving a presentation on collecting DNA from sweat left behind by perpetrators at crime scenes. It wasn't the first time she had spoken at an event, but the thought of standing in front of thousands of people still gave her the jitters. She had to be sure that every sentence that left her mouth was precise and understandable. Getting the facts right wasn't the problem; tripping over her own words was higher up on the worry chart.

"Ryan?" She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat.

"Yeah?" He was engulfed in a game of some sorts on his own laptop.

"When we get to Fargo, can I practice my presentation with you?"

He smirked. "What, nervous?"

"Well, yeah. Who wouldn't be?"

"I wouldn't be." Ryan looked up from his screen.

Natalia met his eyes. "Only because we'd never convince you to get up on stage in the first place."

"Exactly."

The female CSI glanced over at the woman beside her. Neither arson investigator had spoken since sharing a few insulting words that had gained the attention of other passengers. Asshole was nose-deep in a novel, and like Natalia and Ryan, Renae had a laptop resting on her knees.

"So, Renae, are you presenting?"Natalia asked.

Renae twitched in annoyance from being disturbed. "Yes."

"Oh, me too. I'm doing DNA collection techniques for sweat at crime scenes. What are you doing?"

The woman took in an irritated breath. "How to distinguish between explosive damage and fire damage."

"What made you decide to do that?"

Asshole looked up at Natalia and shook his head "no". Taking the hint, she went quiet and turned back to her own laptop.

Renae looked between the two and rose her palms up in the air. "What the hell was that look for?"

"Well, I figured you didn't want to talk about it..." Asshole attempted to avoid her icy stare.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You assumed. Ass-umed."

Ryan let out a snicker and Asshole elbowed him.

"Anyway, Natalia," said Renae, closing her laptop and shifting in her seat to face the female CSI. "Do you remember what happened in Mesa, Arizona four years ago?"

Natalia drew a blank and shook her head. "Not rea—"

"Oh! Wasn't there an explosion or something?" Ryan cut in. He looked to Asshole. "Wasn't that where Lieutenant Laterfield got injured, and then we had to deal with you pretending to be the boss for almost an entire year?"

Lieutenant Charles Laterfield, referred to as "Chuck" by his team, was the Arson Unit team leader and had been for the past twenty years. He was best friends with one of the fire chiefs, although most days they seemed to carry a rivalry. Chuck was a father-figure to his entire team, and his wife Lesley played the part of "mom", bringing in treats and inviting them all for dinner a few times a year. Asshole's daughter Grace referred to them as her grandparents, proving just how strong the bond was between the Laterfield's and the team.

"He almost died, and you're talking about how annoying it was to have me play Arson-Boss?" If Asshole had been a dog, his hackles would have risen. "Do you know how fucking difficult it was to play boss without any training? Why the hell do you think I'm going to all these conventions and conferences and seminars? You're such a selfish dick."

Ryan slightly cowered in guilt and looked out the window. "Sorry."

Renae herself looked like she was once-again ready to strangle the male CSI. However, she calmly let out a breath and continued. "There was an explosion and thirteen people died. Seventeen survived, including Chuck. There were arson specialists from all over the country on that scene. A school had burst into flames three days prior; witnesses reported an explosion, and we found evidence of one. But no one could recall what came first—the fire or the explosion.

"The people on scene were firefighters, police officers, arson investigators, and CSIs like the two of you. We found out afterwards that the school janitor had been stockpiling propane tanks in the boiler room. Lots of propane tanks. Lord knows why. We never found out what had caused the initial explosion, but the propane tanks sat sequestered in the heat of the burned building. Eventually, boom."

Natalia and Ryan were silent, watching Renae intently. She shuddered as if to shake the thought from her head.

"Did you know any of the people who died?" Natalia asked quietly.

"Yeah," Renae let out a sigh. "Out of those thirteen that died, five were arson investigators or fire marshals; I only personally knew two of them, although I had heard of the others. Juan Morena and Thomas Androsoff. Juan was five months from retiring. Thomas was a thirty-something Australian who was good at sniffing out the difference between accelerants."

"Wow. I'm sorry for your loss," said Natalia, before looking to Asshole. "For both of you."

Asshole shrugged. "Chuck's alive. Really no need to give us your apologies."

Renae shook out her shoulders and leaned her head against the back of the seat. "Anyway. How did you get sucked into going to the conference? Let me guess, spa package, private room?"

Natalia felt her heart drop and her eyes go wide. "What are you saying? That they lied to me?"

"Mhm. The hotel doesn't even have a spa. I guess it's better to have your bubble burst before you get there." The female arson investigator gave what could have been a sympathetic smile.

Ryan stifled a laugh. "Wow. That's unfortunate."

His female counterpart slid further down in her seat. "Please tell me that I at least get a nice room."

Renae's face turned serious. "Oh my god. You guys aren't actually staying at The Shack, are you?"

The other three all eyed her with anxiety. The rooms had supposedly been booked by someone high up in the MDPD, and the trio had been told that all they had to do was give their name to the check-in desk and they would be led to their rooms. They hadn't a clue how many rooms had been booked, or what kind of rooms had been booked.

"Well, they booked us rooms, so at least we'll have a room...right?" Natalia looked hopeful.

The redhead failed at holding back a smirk. "Nat, The Shack doesn't take reservations. Even if they say they do. You'll be lucky if you even get separate rooms."

Asshole's face reappeared from behind his book. "So, where are you staying, Renae? At a Hilton or something?"

"Nah. Staying at 'La Quinta'. The rooms in the Hilton are ugly as fuck. But not as ugly as The Shack. Hilton doesn't have bedbugs."

Natalia began to consider sleeping in the lobby. But what if the couches in the lobby had bedbugs? Did bedbugs only live in beds? Or did they live in couch cushions as well? And what if she had to share a room with Ryan? She didn't know what was worse: Bedbugs, or sharing a room with Ryan. Oh Gosh, her eyes went wide. What if she had to share a room with Ryan and Asshole?

"Natalia," said Ryan. "You look pale."

"Bedbugs," she barely whispered.

Asshole's face didn't look any more colourful than Natalia's. He swallowed back disgust before speaking. "Bedbugs can't be that bad. Right?"

"Guys, I saw it on Dr. Oz." Ryan sat forward. "They drink your blood like mosquitoes do. They bite your face, neck, hands and arms. You can get skin rashes, and there have been cases of psychological effects. Oh, and they can live in places other than beds, like pet beds and couch cushions."

Natalia bolted out of her seat, down the aisle, and into the bathroom.

Asshole gagged. "I take back my previous testosterone-fueled statement."

Renae appeared to be the only one not disturbed by the bedbug information. "I'd rather a bedbug than a million baby spiders. Also, you watch Dr. Oz?"

The male CSI made a face. "Yeah, so what?"

"You don't look like the kind of guy that watches that shit."

"It's not shit. He gives health tips and stuff. Stuff you can use in real life. Hell, you don't look like it, but I bet you watch Grey's Anatomy."

Asshole snorted. "She does. She totally does. I've caught her in the act."

She slammed her foot into his kneecap. "UNDERWOOD!"

Asshole drew his legs away from hers and then nudged Ryan with his elbow. "You know she means business when she uses my last name."


Natalia had thought the bedbugs were a disgusting topic. Then she had seen the bathroom. Four and a half hours, and it looked like a construction site outhouse. She covered her mouth and leaned against the counter, as far away from the toilet as possible. Sure, she dealt with dead bodies on a daily business, most of which smelled grosser than field of manure. But dead bodies didn't crawl all over your skin, into your luggage and your clothing, and bite you all over the place and make you itchy. Just thinking about it made her itchy.

Taking a breath, she turned around to face the toilet. Her stomach quivered. She wasn't sure if it was because of the bedbugs or the food from earlier. As Natalia grasped the counter behind her, her eyes caught notice of a gleaming item in behind the toilet. Moving closer, she leaned over the toilet to get a better look, trying to not get too close to the smelly bowl.

Near the back wall, sat a diamond ring. No way, she thought before carefully reaching for it. Ring grasped in her fingers, she stepped back from the toilet and inspected the small item. Three diamonds set on what looked like gold. Neither Asshole nor Renae had described the missing engagement ring, but what were the chances of someone just dropping one when one happened to be missing?

Natalia quickly made her way back to where they were clustered together.

"Guys! Look what I found behind the toilet!" She hissed, presenting them the ring.

Renae made a face. "You reached behind the toilet? That's fucking gross."

Asshole rolled his eyes and took the ring from Natalia. "Looks like the one that the woman described. But she said she hadn't left her railcar."

"People lie, Asshole." Ryan said, snatching the ring from the other man's hand. "But if she's telling the truth, why would the culprit drop it or leave it behind?"

Renae suddenly stood from her seat. She reefed the ring out of Ryan's grasp, stuck it on her right middle finger. "Do you guys think the window is straight-up glass?"

Ryan shrugged. "Could be plexiglass for all we know. Why? You think the diamonds are fake?"

"It would make sense," said Natalia. "It would explain why the thief left it behind."

"But what about the band itself?" Asshole asked. "Wouldn't it be worth something?"

"Does anyone have a magnet? Or nitric acid?" Renae slid the ring off of her finger.

"Buttercup, that's a redundant question." Asshole raised a brow. "We just flew from Miami to Chicago. I doubt you're allowed to bring nitric acid on a plane."

"You call me Buttercup one more time, and this ring will be shoved down your throat. And it'll be ironic, because you always say marriage is like signing a death contract."

Ryan dug through his duffel bag and pulled out a fridge magnet.

"You got a magnet from the Chicago airport?" Natalia made a face. "I think you need to go on vacation more often."

Renae took the magnet from Ryan and held it to the ring. "Slight magnetic pull. The gold isn't gold either. This ring's an all around dud. At least we saved her a trip to the pawn shop. Good thing she already got rid of the fiancé."

They all stared at the ring in Renae's hand as she seated herself.

"You could still get some money for the ring, depending on the pawnshop." Asshole carefully took the ring from Renae and rolled it between his fingers.

"So this person is really experienced. They know what to look for, and they know the tricks for finding out if it's really worth what it looks like," said Natalia.

Ryan nodded. "My only question is, why would they leave it in this bathroom of all bathrooms?"

The four shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They looked out at the passengers around them.

Natalia whispered, "Do you think it's someone in this car?"

"Either that," said Renae in a low voice. "Or they know we're onto them and are trying to fuck with us."


Itchy now?