A/N: I'm late, I'm late…for a very important date! "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" marathon prevented this chapter from posting on time. Haha, but it's like twice as long as all the others...that counts for something, right?

Chapter 10: Dotted line

From the diary of Christopher Newport…

The colonists hither situated have informed me of the great toils they faced while our supply convoy was delayed south. I fear we have multiplied their burden by adding to their numbers and stretching the barren provisions all the more thin. We await replenishments from home port but cannot depend on an accurate arrival given the nature of the last voyage with which I was so intimately involved.

Recalling our harrowing experiences while stranded on the Isle of Devils occurs more oft than not. The sudden deaths by disease or the otherwise unexplained of more than half of our compatriots since settling this New World sets the mind to wonder whether tis a sign from God that perhaps we are not meant to be here. Never more did I feel such sentiment stronger than the annum spent on Bermoothes.

The sensation of an evil presence is ever present in wherever the good subjects of King James find themselves.

In the Tenderloin, San Francisco…

The agents (and agent-in-training) arrived at the crime scene as the last streams of sun fell across the Bay. It was always beneficial to see the surroundings of where the artifact had done its damage, and if they were really lucky, the artifact would still be in the vicinity.

By the time Myka, H.G., and Claudia arrived, the small apartment loft was abuzz with police and crime scene techs. The nosy old lady in the apartment below had called the authorities after hearing a loud thud through the kitchen ceiling. The coroner, Dr. Gomez, was already hovering over the body and scribbling descriptive notes on her clipboard. She looked up and instantly recognized the trio of women who had been in her morgue shortly after the Dottie Pruitt autopsy.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you all again," Dr. Gomez commented.

"Do you think the murders are related?" Myka asked as she and H.G. squatted down to get a better look.

"I still haven't ruled them to be murders, just suspicious deaths." The good doctor took a gloved finger, kneeling near the head of the recently-deceased middle-aged man and pulled back his eyelids revealing the same cataract affliction in the Pruitt case. "Very suspicious."

"Welcome to our world," Claudia mumbled. Everyone looked up at her and her wide-eyed expression made it clear she knew she needed to stop thinking out loud.

"I won't be able to definitively know if the two deaths are related until after I complete his autopsy." Dr. Karen stood and the others followed her lead. "I assume you want a copy of the official report."

"Please," Myka responded. "We're just going to look around for a moment, if you don't mind." The coroner motioned them along, bringing the rest of her team around to prepare the body for transit.

"So, what do you think?" Myka asked her two associates as they looked around the sparse apartment. Besides a nice flat-panel TV, there were few personal possessions.

"Well, I do not believe I spot anything of particular value within these lodgings," was H.G.'s observation.

Claudia turned to face the only window. "I hope he got this place cheap, not the best view unless you're a voyeur." The young girl motioned across the narrow alley to the other apartment a stone's throw away. Myka and H.G. pivoted to get a look and noticed a young man pacing his own apartment.

"Let's go see if he saw anything."

..

"Hello, sir. We're from the Secret Service and were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your neighbor, Stanley Emry." Myka showed Carl Rogers her badge and waited to see if he could offer any insight as to what happened across the street.

"Who's Stanley Emry? Oh man, what happened? Busted another crack dealer?" The young lawyer shook his head.

"No, he was the man who lived across from you in the next apartment building over? Did you have any contact with him recently?"

"Oh, that dude. Naw, never met him. Just watched his TV on occasion; have a pretty sweet view of it from my dining table."

"Do you mind if we step in?" H.G. asked, not waiting for permission as she side-stepped the occupant.

"I guess not." He knew his rights and knew he didn't have to let the agents in without a warrant, but he had nothing to hide. Besides, the young one was kinda cute in a hipster sort of way. As she walked in behind the two brunettes, he made of point of introducing himself as "Carl Rogers, esquire" and shook her hand.

Myka and H.G. made quick work of scoping the joint for anything out of place. Unfortunately for their observation skills, Carl had put away the hook he'd been playing around with for the last hour before he opened the door to let them in. It was sitting in a rather innocuous-looking wooden box on the dining room table. The two brunettes came back to stand near Claudia and Carl to continue the questioning.

"You haven't noticed anyone or anything out of the ordinary the past couple days?" Myka asked.

"Honey, this is San Francisco. If you notice anything normal, that's when you start to worry." Carl answered coolly, unaware of the glare Myka was now pinning him with for calling her 'honey'.

"Have you smelled any fudge?" Claudia asked seriously. Myka jabbed Claudia in the side with her elbow and H.G. just shook her head back and forth. "What? Valid question!"

"Excuse me?" Carl finally looked the slightest bit taken aback before he quickly recovered. "I actually need to be getting to work. Do you mind if I leave?"

"No problem, Mr. Rogers. But if you remember anything, please give us a call."

"You got it." The young man took the business card Myka offered and retrieved one of his own before handing it to Claudia and mouthing a "call me."

Walking back down to street level, Claudia and H.G. voiced their concerns over Mr. Rogers. Claudia identified the ill-sitting feelings as their "spidey senses," but either way you described it there was something about the lawyer that was off.

The Law Offices of Spieger and Goldman

It was another late workday at Spieger and Goldman and yet again the five junior associates were gathered in the big conference room, Carl recently arriving making the excuse that he had been questioned by the cops. No one actually believed him. The partners had gathered their staff around the end of business today to leave them with a little proposition. Whichever associate closed the most contracts (or the most financially-lucrative contracts) would receive a hefty bonus as well as some much deserved vacation time. The five didn't know where they stood in the race with the rest of the firm's associates, but if they could close out this multi-million dollar settlement in the next hour they might have a chance of winning.

"Who schedules a deposition for Friday afternoon anyway?" Aneet asked the crew as they worked on quickly reading through the transcripts of witness questioning they'd done a few hours earlier.

"Rich people." Marja answered dejectedly, picking up another file that weighed more than she did.

"Oh right. Always at their beck and call." Nathan, the surfer boy, commented.

"That's why they pay—our bosses—the big bucks." Carl threw in his two-cents.

"At times like this, I always remind myself it could be much worse." Denise looked around and made sure to make eye contact with everyone before continuing, "We could be public defenders."

"Just a couple more hours and we'll be enjoying the open bar at the Halloween party. Just keep trucking, guys." With a collective groan, the lawyers continued powering through…that much closer to when they could shirk the lawyer-work and toss on their costumes.

Back at the hotel…

"I'm not going to draw you a map to make this easier. This isn't like a game of Pacman." Myka threw her hands in the air, sitting on the edge of one of the beds and crossing her arms. The bickering had resumed as soon as they entered the hotel room again, even with Claudia joining the two older women in their hotel room to continue their work.

"Pardon?" H.G. was unfamiliar with this Pacman person.

"You know, follow the dotted line?" Myka was trying to make Helena understand that her frustration with the Brit because of H.G.'s sometimes-reckless behavior would have distinct consequences on their friendship "Maybe that's a bad analogy."

"Guys, you do realize I'm still in the room?" Claudia didn't even bother to stop her fast-moving fingers on her laptop, just raised her voice enough to be heard. "This sounds like one of those conversations that should be had without company. The UST is getting irritating."

"What is this UST you speak of?" H.G. narrowed her eyes and looked at the redhead.

"Jinkies! I said that last part out loud?" Claudia really needed to stop doing that.

"Claud, what is UST?" Myka asked more insistently than her British colleague.

"it-stands-for-unresolved-sexual-tension," was the young girl's mumbled response.

"Come again?" from Helena and a "what the hell?" from Myka were spoken simultaneously.

Claudia exploded, using a raised voice she rarely succumbed to, "It stands for UNRESOLVED SEXUAL TENSION. The way you both are either bickering or staring LONGINGLY at each other is getting KINDA old. Geez, get a ROOM already." The young redhead took a deep breath, calming back down to her normal self. "Wait, I guess you already have a room and this is it. And, wait again, you can't make it official until either tomorrow or Sunday because those are my days in the 'when are Myka and H.G. going to finally hook-up' pool. I think Leena has today, and we can't have her win or we'll never hear the end of it…"Claudia trailed off, knowing she'd said too much.

"There's a betting pool to see if we are going to get together?" Myka's eyes widened in surprise.

"I wonder if Leena would consider splitting the profits with me. I believe I have next Tuesday and Thursday and I do not think I could hold out that long…" Helena added.

"You knew about this?" Myka turned to H.G., her eyes blazing.

"Well, yes. I feel sometimes Agent Lattimer cannot keep a secret to save his life. And after explaining that I would not have undue influence over the situation—"

"How could you not have undue influence?" Myka questioned, none of the anger she'd been harboring the past few days dissipating in the slightest.

"Myka, darling, everyone is well aware that no one can make you do something you do not want to do. And according to young Claudia here, I've made my intentions rather overt." H.G.'s tone was even and calming, perhaps even tinged with sultriness.

Myka looked dumbfounded; unable to comprehend the conversation they were having. Luckily, Claudia saved her from having to process too much.

"Guys, I know where Carl's going to be. And if our hunch is right, this could be bad. There are A LOT of people that are going to be around." Claudia turned the laptop around for the two women to see what she'd found. It was an electronic invitation to a Halloween party. "He's going to be at the SFMOMA tonight."

"Shall I even ask what SFMOMA stands for?" H.G. questioned tentatively. She was having a rather awkward record with acronyms of late…

A/N: (Let's pretend)…3 days…the next chapter should be up in a couple hours after I finish watching this Notre Dame football game. Go Irish!