A/N: I'm still getting used to Mulan, so it might take me a little while to try to figure out how I want to write her. Hopefully I've gotten a decent handle on her already though.
Chapter TextDespite never having gotten a set of modern fake memories like most of Storybrooke, Mulan had settled into her new job with remarkable ease. Sure, she still shot the computers skeptical glances now and again, and Emma had seen Mulan's sword on her hip more than once, but overall things were coming along smoothly.
"How can you drink this." Mulan winced as the put down her cup of coffee on the desk.
"Acquired taste." Truth be told, Emma found the coffee they made at the station probably about as disgusting as Mulan did, but by now she was so used to horrible coffee at work that anything else just wouldn't feel right.
"I'll have to remember to buy a pot of proper coffee the next time I pass by the diner." Mulan glared at the cup. "This tastes like dirt."
"Hey, it gets the job done, right?"
Which, incidentally, was more than they did. By now, Emma had gone through all the leads they had multiple times, both alone, with David, and now with Mulan, and yet nothing new had surfaced. As it looked now, the only way they would get anywhere would be if the arsonist set fire to another building.
Emma stretched her arms up and groaned, her body stiff and tired from all the sitting. Maybe she could go through the list of suspects again, one by one, to see if she had missed anything. A shaky alibi, a hidden motive, anything.
Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts.
"Hey, Rubes. What's up?"
"Hey, Em, I got this weird note just now."
Emma barely refrained from thumping her head against the table. If that was Hook doing some shit again, heads would roll – one head in particular. "A note?"
"Yeah. I didn't see who left it – it must have been during the lunch rush – but it looks pretty legit."
"Legit? About what?"
"It says: 'Tell the sheriff I've got information about the fire and that I need protection. I'll contact you again in a few days. Keep this quiet or I'll be in even greater danger.'"
All other thoughts were swept aside as Emma jotted down the message on a piece of paper, instantly focused. "And you have no idea who gave you this?"
"Whoever it was picked the most hectic day of the week. It could have been anyone. The text is written really weirdly too, as if they were trying to hide their handwriting."
"Alright. This is still hell of a lot more than we've got this far." Emma's mind raced, working through possibility after possibility. "I wonder who's spooked them this much, though. No one was killed in the library fire, after all."
"Your guess is as good as mine. Half the town could probably scare anyone shitless. Want me to come over with the note?"
"No, I'll pick it up the next time I come by."
Emma had Ruby repeat the message, making sure she had gotten everything down properly, and then ended the call.
"You found something?" Mulan asked.
"Might just be a prank, but I think it's our first real lead. Someone left a note at Granny's, saying they knew something about the library fire and that they were in danger. They wouldn't say anything else except to keep it to ourselves and that they'd contact us again in a couple of days."
"It'll be difficult to keep them safe if we don't know who or what is after them," Mulan warned.
"Yeah." Emma stared at the words she had written down, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as she read and reread them. Whoever had written this had felt it necessary to hide everything about themself, even their handwriting. Sure, there was plenty of animosity going around in town, but people didn't usually have to fear for their lives.
I need protection.
From whom?
Emma was still deep in thoughts about the note and the prospective informant when the station's phone rang.
"Sheriff Swan." It couldn't be the informant calling already, could it?
"Hello, my name is Leila Watts. I'm living in the western parts of town, near the woods. I don't know if this might be relevant, but I think one of my neighbors might be missing."
Emma pulled up her notebook and a pen. "When was the last time you saw your neighbor? Do you know the name of them?" Silly question, she realized as soon as she had said it. Everyone knew everyone in this town.
"Bethany Vickers. I haven't seen her for weeks now. Maybe even months. She's not all that sociable, really."
"Okay. We'll be sure to look into it, ma'am."
"There's one more thing, too. I can't say for sure, but I think she might have magic."
That caught Emma's attention. Someone with magic going missing somewhere around the time of the library fire? The circumstances were definitely suspicious. "Go on."
"Well, I've heard she was a witch of some kind – not necessarily an evil one – in the old world, and there was this weird smell coming from her house one time when I came over to invite her to a barbecue a few months back. A friend of mine swore he saw colored smoke coming out of her chimney once, too."
Normally Emma would probably have ignored something as vague as this, but this wasn't normal times. The fact that the caller sounded worried about rather than scared of her neighbor also boded well. She checked the time; it was still early enough in the day to go investigate. "Alright, I'll look into it as soon as possible. Are you at home this afternoon?"
"Yes, I won't be going anywhere for the rest of the day."
"Great. Depending on what we find, we might need a statement from you later on."
"I'd be happy to help. Oh, and please let me know what's happened to her, will you? I don't know her well, but she's been as good a neighbor as any and I just might be the closest thing to a friend that she has."
"Of course."
Emma noted both women's addresses, thanked Leila for her help, and ended the call. She checked the time again. Depending on what happened, she might have to work a little late – maybe she should tell Henry to stay with Regina tonight – but there was no way she would be twiddling her thumbs all evening with this right around the corner.
"Hey, Mulan?" Emma called out as she got to her feet. "Pack your things, we're going on a field trip!"
Bethany Vickers' house was as unremarkable as any other house in Storybrooke. Small and quaint, the only thing remotely interesting was the slightly unkempt garden and the mailbox that hadn't been emptied in a while.
"So, how do we do this?" Mulan asked, her voice low and her hand on the sword that was fastened on her hip.
"You really think bringing that is a good idea?" Emma nodded towards the sword.
Mulan frowned. "I can't handle a gun nearly as well as I can handle a sword. I'll be fine. Any attackers will lose their arm before they have time to fire a shot."
Emma stared back.
"I'm joking." She paused a beat, just enough time for Emma to collect herself. "I've watched several seasons of Law and Order, though. I'm sure that'll help."
"You're hilarious," Emma muttered, but she couldn't hold back an amused smile. Mulan was good company to have. "We try the polite way first. If no one answers, we get inside and check the place out. Stay safe and don't turn to violence unless absolutely necessary, alright?"
Mulan nodded, all business. "Got it."
They opened the fence gate and walked up to knock on the front door.
"Bethany Vickers? This is Sheriff Swan. I'm here to make sure everything's alright with you," Emma said, loudly enough that she hoped anyone inside would here. When she didn't get any reply, she knocked a few more times. "Miss Vickers?"
"Do you smell that?" Mulan mumbled, sniffing in the air.
Emma breathed in deeply through her nose, then winced. Even thought the smell was faint, it was still nauseating. "That's not good." She pulled her gun out of her holster and carefully tried the door handle. It was locked. "Quick and dirty way or slow and careful? Oh, never mind, I forgot my lock picks at the station. I'm sure Marco can fix this later anyway," she added under her breath.
Taking a step back, Emma carefully readied her magic. One time she had overdone it and the whole damn door had been torn off its hinges and lodged itself in the opposite wall. This called for a little more finesse.
She let her magic burst out of her hand in a small, concentrated blast, hitting the door near handle. The door flew open with a bang, sending splinters and sparks in all directions.
"You okay?" Emma hissed as she waved away the worst of the dust from the air in front of her.
Mulan coughed a few times, but nodded. "I'm fine. Let's go."
Apart from the remains of the broken door, the house seemed to be about as unremarkable inside as it had looked outside. Emma headed up the stairs to the second floor, finding nothing but empty rooms, barely even decorated. Some of them looked as if they hadn't been used for years. Emma felt a twinge of sympathy for Bethany; Storybrooke couldn't have been a good place for her.
The bedroom was the only room with any hints of life. The bed wasn't made and there were a few clothes tossed over the back of a chair, but not much more than that. Nothing personal, nothing private. An old newspaper lay on the bedside table, yellow from age and wrinkled from use. It was from days before the sheriff's election, back when the original curse was still intact, and it was open and folded to show a long article about Regina that Bethany obviously had read many times. What she had found so interesting with it remained a mystery.
There was nothing else of interest in the bedroom, so Emma left and headed back to the stairs. No body, no magic supplies, not even some kind of potion vial; the upper floor had been completely empty. She hoped Mulan had had better luck.
"I found something! In the kitchen!"
Emma hurried down the stairs and to the kitchen, all the while the smell got stronger and stronger, soon almost overwhelming. Covering her nose with a napkin helped, but only so much. Even Mulan looked a little paler than usual, her expression grim.
"She's been dead for a while. I didn't go any closer. Didn't want to disturb the scene." Mulan stepped aside to let Emma in.
"So you do have watched Law and Order, huh," Emma muttered, carefully taking a few steps into the kitchen to get a better look.
It was obvious that the person lying on the kitchen floor had been dead for days, probably weeks. The body was lying face down – thankfully, Emma thought – but the decomposing skin on the hands and ankles was evidence enough.
"Fuck." She felt moments away from vomiting. "Let's get some air."
They left for the front door, breathing deeply as soon as they were outside.
"Alright," Emma said when the worst of her nausea had disappeared. "We have to get back in there and document the crime scene, and then get Dr. Whale over here to deal with the body. Probably should do a second sweep of the rest of the house too, to make sure we didn't miss anything."
Mulan did not look particularly excited at the prospect.
Dr. Whale arrived soon after getting the call.
"Yep, she's dead alright," he declared, crouched over the body. "I'm guessing a couple of weeks. Good thing the house was as closed as it was or there would be maggots all over the place."
Emma really didn't need that image in her mind. At least the smell was better now, with some of the noxious gases leaking out through the front door. "Can you get any more specific? Cause of death? Anything"
Whale tilted the body's head up just a little to get a better look, scrunching up his nose in disgust at the sight. "This reminds me why I stopped trying to resurrect people. Anyway, I'll know more when I get back to the hospital but if you want my opinion right now, she might just have collapsed of old age. Heart failure, lung failure, brain tumors, you name it." He nodded towards one of the cupboards that was filled to the brim with bottles of liquor of varying kind and varying emptiness. "She's like an infomercial about the dangers of an unhealthy lifestyle. She even died with a cigarette in her hand."
Emma hummed, nodding absentmindedly. He definitely had a point. She looked around the kitchen again, trying to see if she had missed anything. Nothing looked particularly out of place, no sign of a struggle or anyone trying to cover their tracks. No potions, no strange vials, nothing magical-looking either. She went over to the fridge and opened it, making sure not to breathe in. (Mulan had done that earlier and she was still looking rather pale.) A few moldy vegetables, a couple of innocuous old jars, an open carton of milk. She closed it again, lingering with her hand on the door handle for a moment, lost in thoughts. Everything pointed to a natural death, but with all that had happened in town recently, Emma still wasn't convinced.
Just as she was about to leave, something caught her eyes. There was a strange mark on the floor just in front of the fridge, looking suspiciously like someone had tried to brush away something. She bent down and removed the small plastic cover on the bottom of the fridge and peered in under it. There was some kind of gray powder further inside. Reaching into one of her pockets, she pulled out two small evidence bags and carefully put some of the powder inside each of them. It looked like ash.
"Hey doc, did you say she might have died from heart problems? Like a heart attack?"
"I guess so. Or she might just as well have tripped and died from hitting her head. Old ladies, you know. One scare insect and they're bringing down the house."
Emma gave him one of the bags. "Can you run some tests on this to see what it is?"
He took it and looked at it closely, shaking the bag a few times. "This looks like ash."
"Just test it, okay? It's probably just from her cigarettes, but I need to make sure." She didn't explain further; she had enough problems without Whale spreading rumors all over town.
Whale shrugged and shoved his hands down his coat pockets. "Whatever you say, Sheriff. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a corpse to pack up."
Leaving Whale to finish up with the body, Emma and Mulan headed into the living room to get away from any potential eavesdropping.
"What's with the ash?" Mulan asked as soon as they were alone.
"From what I know, crushing someone's heart reduces it to ash, and the one person I've seen die from that looked like he was getting a heart attack."
Mulan's eyes narrowed. "So you do think someone killed her. Someone who can rip out hearts."
"Maybe. She was a loner, possibly had magic, died within a week or so of the library fire? That's pretty suspicious."
"I didn't find any signs of magic, though." Mulan pursed her lips in annoyance. "Not that I'm entirely sure what I would be looking for. Magic practitioners don't usually put their things on display."
"Me neither. She did have some newspaper article in her bedroom about Regina, but I don't know why. I don't even know if she was a fan or not. Wasn't anything else suspicious nearby, either." Emma threw a glance around the room. "Did you find a basement?"
"No, and from what I can tell, she spent most of her time on this floor. The only rooms that aren't covered in dust is the kitchen, the bathroom, and this room."
Emma stepped up to a bookcase nearby. It was almost black, but the dust made it look gray. Almost all of the books hadn't been touched for months, if not longer. "Looks pretty dusty to me."
"Not that." She made a gesture at a low cupboard near the TV, then bent down and picked up a VHS tape from it. "These. Days of our Lives. They're recordings, right?" The cupboard was stacked from top to bottom with tapes.
"Yeah. Well, that explains what she was doing all day. And why no one saw much of her." Emma couldn't help but wonder how long it would have taken for someone to notice her death if the library hadn't burnt. Six months, a year? The thought was pretty depressing.
Mulan nodded. "Maybe we could ask around, see if any other neighbors knew anything about her." She made a face. "Especially if it means I don't have to spend more time in this apartment."
"Good point." They had documented everything they could for now, and the stench was just barely tolerable. A change of venue was definitely in order.