Chapter 8: The Suspicion Disposition

The day had been like most other days. Miss Keane led the class, and now they were on their break. As usual, Bubbles spent it coloring while Buttercup sat in the corner going through all of the fights she had been in as a Powerpuff Girl. At the moment, the gas station rush was fresh in her mind. She thought about how it was done and how it could have gone better. Blossom not showing up in time aside, Buttercup wondered if it would have been more effective had they waited until they had identified the blond man who escaped before rushing the gas station. The only reason he got away was because Buttercup and Bubbles had to wait for Blossom, which led to the argument. Had they taken him down first, all three of them would have been in jail.

Blossom was not thinking on the past. She only thought of the future, mainly concerning Justin Bradley and Priscilla Moore. How much did she see? The question clearly haunted her more than it did her sister, who remained coloring without a care in the world. 10:00 rolled around. The students had already stopped expecting Justin to arrive, so Blossom was the only one attentive on the door when he came in.

"Hi Miss Keane," he said. Her eyes widened, as she did not expect him to come back.

"I didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did I," he said. "I was talking to some people yesterday, and I realized that my work here is important to me and not just for the community service hours."

"Well, I'm glad to see you back, of course," she said ecstatically. "You're the first TA I've had to actually return from a break. Make yourself comfortable. Your schedule hasn't changed since you left." Justin smiled at her and placed his bag in a corner. He shot over a look directly at Blossom. He saw her looking at him before turning back and walking off.

"We have to go," Blossom insisted, tugging at Bubbles' arm. She wasn't willing to budge away from her drawing, as crude and childish as it may have been.

"I don't want to go. I'm in the middle of something."

"We have to go," she repeated. "Justin's back. He looked at me. He saw me look at him. He knows we were in Priscilla's house. Not just you, but me as well. We have to get out of here."

"And then what?" Bubbles asked, looking directly at her but trying to keep the conversation to just above a whisper. "Tomorrow? Do we just skip class again? How long until it catches up to us, Blossom?" She didn't have a response, but she knew she didn't want to wait for Justin. In a second, Blossom was already heading quietly out the back door.

Bubbles glanced over at Buttercup, who was still sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed going over possible changes to the gas station rescue. Bubbles stood up and walked up the stairs that over looked the play area. She reached the second floor, keeping her eyes focus over the railing, down below to where her classmates played.

She continued down the hallway and upon looking up, found Justin just inches from her face. "Bubbles," he asked calmly, "were you at my girlfriend's house the other day? She seems to believe you were, and so does Tyler Osborn."

"I haven't seen you in so long, and this is how you welcome back and old friend?" she asked hypothetically. He didn't answer, and the look of expectation remained frozen on his face. "What possible reason could I have to want to go to your girlfriend's house? I didn't even know you had one."

"You're lying, and you're deflecting the question," he noticed. "And you're doing it to cover for someone. I know you were there. Priscilla distinctively saw a blue flash of light. She didn't see the one who ran behind her. Buttercup is still sitting in that corner, so I don't think it was she. Blossom was staring at me when I came in, and this is not the first time she's done this. Now I can't find her. Could you shed some light on this?"

"My lips are sealed."


At his office, Tyler Osborn sat at his desk trying to organize his files. In comparison, the file on Malcolm Jules was the thickest and most important. Tom Seaton wasn't talking, so Osborn would just have to wait for his trial. In the meantime, he had another minor business to contend with, and it was coming down the hallway being led by Officer Gedge.

"Thank you, Gedge," he said, nodding towards him. Gedge nodded back and left the room. The man he had led in was standing, and Osborn motioned for him to take a seat across from him. "I like what you've done with your hair, Mr. Wilson," he complimented.

"Why am I here?" Wilson asked. "I have a job to do."

"So I've heard," Osborn said as he began to peel a banana he had laid on the desk. "Actually, I've heard that you've been pulling some real overtime. If I had to guess, you're trying to get a scoop on the origins of the Powerpuff Girls to further your career."

David Wilson sat silently, trying to sift through Tyler Osborn's words. Why did he care? Going for a story wasn't illegal, and it didn't interfere with his job. He took a deep breath and tried to deliberate his response. Each time he breathed, Osborn leaned in a little bit more expectantly. "I don't think that going after a lucrative story is a crime, Mr. Osborn."

"On the contrary," Osborn said with a hint of sarcasm. "I encourage it. As you may or may not know, Elliott Meyer has created a little team, and informal Powerpuff Support Team, of which I am a member. Also on that little team is John Utonium."

"I don't see where you're going with this."

"Elliott Meyer told me to let it go, but I can't. John Utonium has done everything humanly possible to keep his past hidden. I know for a fact his name is not really John Utonium. It's a lie. Everything about him is a lie, and I find it really hard to support the Powerpuff Girls with him keeping secrets."

"It doesn't seem rational," Wilson explained. "Utonium created the Powerpuff Girls. Wouldn't he be the best to know how to handle the Powerpuff Girls?"

"He doesn't even consider them his children. They're just experiments to him. If he won't treat them as people, then I'll use them as tools to fight crime. He's in the way, and Meyer won't let me do anything about it."

"So since I'm not a member of this little exclusive Powerpuff Support Team, you want me to investigate John Utonium for you, and you'll help me investigate the girls' origin, and Elliott Meyer will be none the wiser. Are we on the same page now?"

"We're on the same page. If you want my suggestion, you can get the information straight from the horse's mouth. However, if that mouth refuses to speak, a little horse named Kathleen Keane may have just enough information, if not more."


Elliott Meyer was in his office, working diligently for the first time since his inauguration. Sarah stood by the door to ensure that no one would disrupt him during this wondrous moment that was just as much out of character as everything else he had done in the last week, ever since Melanie Reenie came back to the capitol building.

The thought just crossed her mind, and it put a sour note on the bright day. Making matters worse was Melanie Reenie herself with her hair beautifully straightened and a new suit that made her look like the professional she really wasn't. In her left hand she carried a manila folder, thin, but obviously containing around ten sheets of papers.

Melanie walked as if Sarah wasn't there, as if she could just grab the doorknob and interrupt the mayor as she pleased. "What do you want, Melanie?"

"I have information for Meyer," she replied.

"I'll give it to him," Sarah shot back. "I'm his Chief of Staff. It's my job."

"You're more than welcome to come in with me and listen in while I debrief the mayor, but I did come up with this information, and I believe I am entitled to give it to him. I certainly have the legal right since I am his special advisor."

"That's not even an official job title, Melanie."

"Doesn't have to be," she replied with a smile as she went for the doorknob. Deep down, Sarah wanted to smack the hand back, but she knew she didn't have that right and simply moved off tot the side and allowed Melanie to open the door. Meyer looked up to see both women in front of him, but kept his eyes mainly on Melanie Reenie. "Sir, I have some information that you might want to know."

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"The Gangreen Gang has had operatives moving about in the area of Millennium Park. I'm not entirely sure why, but it's not exactly their territory, and it may be some kind of gang war situation we could be dealing with."

Elliott cringed at the thought, and replied, "Why Millennium Park? It's not exactly gang territory. Isn't that where a bunch of homeless people live?"

"Yes," Sarah interrupted. Meyer, who shot her a derisive look for having spoken, did not view her intrusion lightly.

Reenie continued. "I've also heard that the Gang may be working under new leadership these days. I don't have any more information, but it's what I've heard."

"Thank you Melanie," Meyer said with a smile. "I'll pass the information on to Tyler Osborn."

"You're not even going to question where this information came from?"

"It came from a man named Chris Isaacson. He's a reporter for Channel 8. He was doing an investigation in that area, and managed to get him to talk to me, and that's how I got the information. Nothing illegal transpired."

"I would never have assumed so," Meyer assured him. Now turning to Sarah: "You can leave."


Blossom was flying in any location that she could. Sporadically, she found herself barley crashing into tall buildings at every corner. Her near misses made her the spectacle of the all the pedestrians down below, and she could even recognize a few cars that had been following her for the last few minutes, just waiting for her to crash.

Her cell phone rang. Blossom stopped and looked around. She didn't recognize the area, only that there was a construction site behind her and a supermarket directly below her. She levitated herself onto the roof of the supermarket before checking the phone, seeing Bubbles' name on it. There was a 50/50 chance that it was actually Bubbles on the other end or Justin using her phone. Blossom took a deep breath and took the chance.

"Blossom," Bubbles said. Blossom let out a sigh of relief upon hearing her sister's voice, but her relief didn't last long. "Blossom." This time, it was Justin Bradley's voice. "Do not hang up," he demanded, almost telepathically. "The way I understand it, not only does Buttercup not know about your break-in, but she disapproves of it. If you hang up this phone before you tell me what I want to know, I will tell her everything."

The threat was powerful, and it kept her from closing the phone any more than she already had. Blossom was even afraid to move about and stood perfectly still on the roof of the supermarket until Justin spoke up again. "You'll probably be pleased to hear that Bubbles hasn't told me anything. I have her in time out, but she's still not speaking. She doesn't have to talk for me to know that you and Bubbles broke into my girlfriend's house the other day. I want to know why!"

Blossom remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. Justin had the patience of a saint as he remained silent as well. He was still on the line. His angry breathing could still be heard. "I can't answer that question," she finally said.

"That answer doesn't work for me, Blossom."

"I can't answer that question," she repeated.

"If you can't answer it, and Bubbles won't answer it, I'll just ask Buttercup."

"Wait! Justin!" It was a reaction to call his name, hoping it would pull him back. It did. He remained on the line, waiting for a better answer. "I was doing my job," she lied. "She was engaging in suspicious activity so Bubbles and I investigated it. The only reason I didn't tell Buttercup was because she disagreed with me."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Blossom went out on a limb. "How you noticed anything strange with Priscilla? How you noticed any major changes in the last few days?"

It was Justin's turn to remain silent in deep thought. His silence worried Blossom more than anything. "She skates," he finally said.

"In her room, Bubbles and I found a pair of inline skates that were being augmented with some advanced technology. It's not illegal, but it is suspicious, so that is why Bubbles and I broke into the home of Priscilla Moore. We were investigated suspicious activity."

Justin didn't reply. There was a grunt that was barely audible before he hung up the phone. Blossom hung up her phone and wiped the tear sliding down her face.


David Wilson, meanwhile, kept a close eye on John Utonium as he passed from aisle to aisle in the supermarket. David Wilson thought he was sneaky, but the only person he was fooling was himself. Not only was Utonium completely aware of his existence, it was beginning to irritate him the lengths he went towards to try and hide himself from Utonium's sight, and how it wasn't working. For Wilson's sake, Utonium tried to look away, but Wilson would always do something that would catch Utonium's glance even if he tried to keep it away.

In the produce section, Wilson dove—literally—behind the watermelons. Utonium kept walking forward, pretending the dive was conspicuous, but Wilson had knocked over two watermelons while getting up, and Utonium looked instinctively. He turned back forward as if nothing had happened, and Wilson seemed to buy it. Later, in the frozen food section, he opened the door, trying to hide behind the glass door that led the freezer as if Utonium couldn't see him right through it. Wilson's knees were buckling under the cold, and Utonium had to muster all of his strength not to laugh.

Going down aisle number 3, Wilson took aisle number 2 and stared at Utonium through the cans, and that was the final straw. "David Wilson. Is there any specific reason why you've been following me all day? Please do not give me the silent treatment Wilson. I know you're there and you know that I know that you're there, so please do not try to insult my intelligence by remaining quiet."

"I'm just doing my grocery shopping."

"You see. That's what I consider an example of insulting my intelligence, because you actually think that you can fool me with that, which is just sad. However, I can insult you mobility, because if I'm not mistaken, you sprained your ankle on air a few weeks back. Can you run?"

Utonium left the cart where it was and dashed out of the aisle. It took Wilson a few second to realize what had just happened, and gave chase. Utonium was right. His leg wasn't fully healed, and he could feel the pressure Everytime he landed on his left foot. He had to keep his movement to a slow jog to keep from feeling the pain. Utonium, meanwhile, was already at the other end of the expansive supermarket.

Utonium had a smile—a smirk, rather—as he turned the corner in the produce section again. He glanced back to see that no one was following him. He turned forward just as he ran into someone standing in front of him. After a few quick seconds of confusion, Utonium picked himself up. The other person was already standing. "I'm sorry," he said as he picked his lead up to look her in the face. "I suppose I was acting a bit childish."

"I have that effect on men," she said. "I know you. You're John Utonium, creator of the Powerpuff Girls. I must introduce myself. I'm Melanie Reenie, Elliott Meyer's special advisor. I hope you don't mind me asking, but I don't have anything to do later. Would you like to do something with me tonight?"

"You're very direct," Utonium said. "As luck would have it, I haven't had anything to do in almost fifteen years now. Melanie, you've got yourself a date."


"Mrs. Bellum," Tyler Osborn said in mediocre surprise as she walked into the police station. Osborn was leaning back against the counter drinking from his mug of coffee. He hadn't done anything in the last hour, and was just hoping to keep it that way for the rest of the night. Of course, he lived in a town populated with Tom Seatons, Representatives, and Amoeba Boys. He was never going to have a good night's sleep. "Before you say anything, I'm going to assume that this has something to do with one of your employees and a possible connection to the Representative. Right?"

"It's not just possible," Sarah told Osborn as he hid his chuckle with a groan. "Melanie Reenie is a criminal. The only way she could have known that Tom Seaton was hiding out in the condominium was to have been with the Representative, which she admitted to. The only way she could have been with the Representative was to have been working with him. She hasn't admitted to that, but it's the only way."

"Even if what you say is true," he said, putting his mug down, "Elliott Meyer has already pardoned her for her crimes. I can't touch her even if I wanted to, and trust me, anyone with information regarding the Representative, or whomever he is a representative for I want in custody immediately."

"That's just it," Sarah demanded with a voice that meant business. "Elliott Meyer isn't being himself. He's actually taking command of his office, which I would normally support except that it's excluding me and listening only to Melanie Reenie."

Tyler Osborn took another sip from his mug. "I'll look into it, but I don't think that there is anything wrong going on."

"How can you say that?"

"Because you're the back-up," Osborn told her. "You weren't his first choice for Chief of Staff. Melanie Reenie was. The only reason she was removed was because her actions damaged his campaign. If she weren't fired, he would have surely lost the election. You were hired out of convenience. You were willing to do all of the work, and you weren't going to do anything that would harm his campaign. I'm sure Elliott Meyer is very grateful for all you've done but at the end of the day, Melanie Reenie is the person that he would rather have in that position. She was hired first for a reason."

"There has to be more than that. He's being rude to me and pretty much anyone that tries to get close to him if it's not Melanie Reenie. I don't know how to explain it, but I think Reenie has some sort of mental control over Meyer."

"You're really making some wild accusations, Mrs. Bellum."

"I know, but we know that the Representative has the ability to genetically alter the DNA structure of dogs to make them monstrous killing machines. I'm afraid that if she has in fact been working with the Representative that she may have used some sort of toxin to influence Elliott's mind."

Osborn sighed. "Why did you come to me with this? You have no proof, and I can't do anything without some proof. I need a warrant in order to search anything. If you want a quick, off-the-books search, you need to go back to the mayor's office, dial the number on the little red phone, and call the Powerpuff Girls."

"They don't investigate. They just destroy public property. I need the police."

"I don't have proof."

"Tom Seaton!"

"Only proves she was with the Representative, which she was already pardoned of."

"The pardon! Elliott would never do that!"

"He would for an old friend and colleague who's advise he respects. I don't agree with it, but the explanation is solid. I don't see foul play, and neither would the judge. You have two choices now, Mrs. Bellum. Either you learn to deal with Melanie Reenie as a coworker or get over your dislike of the Powerpuff Girls and call them. As for me, I'm going home." With that, Osborn finished off his coffee before leaving the police station.


The sun had set some hours before Justin Bradley pulled up to the front of the Priscilla Moore's mansion. He called, but she wasn't answering her cell. He called the house, but it was any number of her servants and butlers who answered, and they all would say the same thing: she was locked up in her room and gave specific instructions no to be disturbed.

"It doesn't seem real," he told himself as he arrived at the front door. He knocked. "Is Blossom really telling the truth? She was just investigating suspicious behavior. Yeah, she's acting differently—dare I say weird—but I wouldn't think suspicious. Does Priscilla really have super-skates?" Justin shut himself up as a butler answered the door and let him in.

"Miss Moore gave me specific instruction that she should not be bothered."

"That's fine, Bernard," he said. "Just pretend that I came in through an open window and that you didn't see me at all. I'm going in." Bernard nodded and Justin began to walk up the flight of stairs until reaching the third floor. Despite the size of the house, the family never invested in an elevator. The door to her room was locked, and Justin immediately began to pick the lock. After a minute, the door was open.

Justin walked in to see that her bed hadn't been made and neither her clothes been folded nor hung. She hadn't done any of it, and she hadn't let any of the servants in to do it for her. Justin moved through he pile of clothes and shoes strewn all over the floor, noticing that much of it was also hanging on the chandelier as well. Justin eyed the closet and made his way towards it. There, on the floor of the closet, were the inline skates with wires still hanging from it. "Oh my God," he mumbled. "Blossom was right. I have to apologize." Justin took his cell phone and took a picture of the skates.

He stood up, and looked closely at what was hanging on the wall of the closet right above the pair of inline skates. It appeared to be a full body suit of the same color of the skates, made of mostly metal with leather covering. "It's like a speed suit or something. What is she trying to prove?" Finally, a hand-drawn picture taped the wall next to the suit caught his eye. In the picture were three lines: one blue, one green, and one red. The lines led to the middle of the paper. At the end of the blank side was a yellow dot with three yellow lines leading front it towards the end of the lines.

Justin shuddered as soon as he realized what they were. "This isn't just a speed suit. It's a battle suit."