The Glee characters belong to Glee, the rest of the characters belong to me. This story is improved no end by wood-u-like-2-no's contribution as beta and soundboard.

Conceit: Chapter titles are song titles. This one is from a man with a voice like molten chocolate, Scott Walker. If you take the time to find any of his stuff, you will want to drown in that voice.

+...+

Chapter Twenty-Five: Always Coming Back to You

"Are you here to take me back to LA?"

The rush to Ohio, the tension, the moment, all disappeared for Rachel in the light of this absurd question from a man full-grown and a movie star. Rachel, uncontrollably, started to laugh. She spit out, "What? No!" before she managed to stop. He was staring at her confused and lost. She regained control instantly and her voice softened. "I'm here because I thought you could use some support. And I was right. Blaine's gone. I took him to the airport. Somebody needs to keep an eye on you guys. And," she paused, willing her voice to stay steady, "until your mom recovers, who better than me?"

Finn didn't move. She was struck by how hollow he seemed, all husk and no kernel. Taking charge was the only thing to do.

"You go find a shirt. Blaine left all the laundry clean and folded in there." Rachel pointed to the tiny room off the kitchen that held the washing machine and drier. "I'm making you something to eat." He still didn't react. She realized that he wasn't staring at her but through her. "Go," she said more firmly, approaching him and touching his arm. "Now!"

Touch, tone, or both, Finn came out of his stupor. He nodded and went to find a shirt. Rachel busied herself with the steak, laying it onto the plate as he emerged. Rachel silently noted the plaid shirt and tee underneath. He looked so like he did in high school that her breath caught in her throat.

Finn opened his mouth. Rachel held up her hand.

"Sit. Eat. We can talk after the ice cream. If you want." Rachel prayed he wouldn't argue. It was all she could do not to run forward and hold him, sooth and comfort him. It was an intimacy that would be expected between old friends but they weren't friends, they were something else. She didn't want to add anything to the pressure he was already feeling. He shut his mouth and nodded. She might have imagined his faint smile. He sat down, picked up the knife and fork, and slowly started to eat.

She'd forgotten to get him a drink. Water or milk? She could ask but instead she poured him a glass of chocolate milk. He needed building up. She put it down on the table in front of him.

"Seriously?"

She grinned at this first sign of the Finn Hudson within and nodded. He sighed, picked up the glass and drained it. It was too cute that he had a chocolate milk moustache. She turned away to avoid the temptation to remove it with her… anything, and returned to the steak pan. Washing it would be a useful distraction.

When the pan was very, very clean, she turned to see that he'd finished his meal and was leaning back in the chair. She hurried to the freezer.

"No ice cream, Rachel, thanks. I'm kind of full."

"Seriously?" She faced him with her hands on her hips. "I bet you've hardly eaten anything, Finn Hudson. Blaine told me and I can see it myself. What have you had today, for example?"

He reddened and looked embarrassed. "Well, actually, today, I stopped on the way home from the hospital and got a couple of breakfast burritos. I knew Blaine was going back to Paris."

"When?" Rachel felt indignant.

Finn shrugged. "About two hours ago. I came home to shower, make some calls and catch up on some sleep, so I picked them up on the way. When I finished the calls, I heard noises from downstairs, grabbed my jeans and… here I am."

"You jerk! Why didn't you say something?" She untied the apron and wrested it off.

He grinned. "I know you when you're on a mission, Rachel Berry. I learned a long time ago not to get in the way. And besides, it smelled really good."

Rachel threw the apron at his head. He caught it in one hand with a laugh. She couldn't help but giggle. "I thought you were Burt. I mean, when Blaine and I left for Columbus, it was Burt upstairs."

"Yeah, he didn't sleep long. He turned up at the hospital around noon. We tried to send him home again but no go. Once he fell asleep in the chair, Kurt insisted I do something about my 'pungent aroma.' I didn't think I was that bad," he added with a frown.

"Wait, does all this mean you haven't slept?"

"Not yet, but I'm okay."

"Bed."

"Rachel…"

"No. Bed. Now. Don't make me march you upstairs, put you in your pyjamas and tuck you in."

"Tempting as it is to see you try," he said, rising from the kitchen table chair, "I'm not going to argue. I'm beat. Although I don't bother with pyjamas anymore." Rachel didn't imagine it this time. There was definitely a faint smile and a glint in his eye. Both disappeared as he continued, "But listen, Aunt Theresa is coming the day after tomorrow and knowing her, she'll want to take charge, so, you know, don't feel you have to do stuff around the house. Why don't you go spend some time with your dads?"

"I'll do that," Rachel lied. "But not before I hear you snoring."

Finn made his way to the door but turned back as he reached it. "It's great to see you, Rach. Thanks for coming. It means a lot."

+...+

Rachel added to the Greek salad for Kurt and left some part-baked potatoes near the microwave, a huge bowl of fruit on the table, the other steaks in the fridge, and a note to the Hummels about the fresh food she'd bought and stored. Then, staying true to her word, sitting on the floor of the upstairs hall leaning against the wall near the door to Finn's room, she waited until she heard the soft sound of snoring. She listened for a long time before finally rising and making her way to his door. Opening it quietly, she watched him sleep. She stood there even longer than she'd waited in the hall before finally leaving the house.

Rachel wasn't ready for her own bed yet. There was only one other place she wanted to go, so she climbed into the beast and drove to the hospital.

She avoided reception. She wasn't a family member and Blaine had told her where to go. Rachel avoided being challenged all the way to the small waiting area in intensive care and that was empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked over to the door behind which Carole lay. Through the glass, she saw Burt sitting at Carole's side, stroking her hand. Kurt was by the window, staring out over the hospital's grounds. Rachel watched for a while, fighting the urge to walk in. She'd spent hours watching and waiting today. It was starting to make her feel a little crazy. With a sigh, she turned away and took one of the seats.

"Excuse me, who are you here for?"

The nurse in front of her was tapping her foot. Rachel stood and prepared to launch into the bizarre story she'd created in the beast on the way over. She was Carole's daughter, given up for adoption as a baby and she'd just discovered her whereabouts. It was a story that Rachel could relate to, helping her to hit the right emotional note and if that didn't get sympathy, nothing would. Rachel opened her mouth and didn't get a word out.

"Rachel?" Kurt emerged from Carole's room.

"Kurt!" Rachel rushed over to him, throwing herself into a bear hug. Kurt put his arms around her and squeezed. The rest of the world faded as they took silent comfort in each other. It lasted only as long as the nurse's patience.

"Mr. Hummel, you know the rules. Only two at a time."

"I know, I know, Nurse Ratched, I mean, Radnor." Kurt smiled with the deliberate misnomer. It was a tribute to his charm and a nod to the obvious history of an old argument rehearsed with good heart between the nurse and the Hudson-Hummel family. "I'm going home for a while. Rachel's an old family friend. It's okay for her to see Mom, isn't it?"

The nurse was looking doubtful.

"I nearly was family," Rachel interjected, anxious to earn Nurse Radnor's good graces.

"Rachel and Finn were engaged for a while. They got to the courthouse and everything but then this friend had a car accident on the way and…." Kurt trailed off, making a tragic face. The nurse raised her eyebrows at him. "Oh, come on, Rita. You let Will Schuester stay with my dad before we got here. Can't you bend the rules for Rachel Berry, Broadway star?"

"Rachel Berry? As in Earthworks?"

"Yes, yes," Rachel said. A Broadway fan! Rachel couldn't help but preen. "Did you see me in it?"

"Hmmm," the nurse responded without enthusiasm. Rachel felt a surge of disappointment. The wrong place and so the wrong time to worry about her ego, yet it still hurt like a hard pinch. She bowed her eyes. After the longest, most uncomfortable pause during which Rachel felt herself being scrutinised, the nurse relented. "All right, she can go in but not for long."

"Thank you, Rita." Kurt planted a kiss on her cheek. "I'm just going to take her in, okay."

"Don't push your luck, Mr. Hummel."

"Okay." Kurt turned to Rachel. "Hang on." Kurt went back into the room.

The nurse waited for the door to close before addressing Rachel quietly. "You know, if you can persuade Burt to go home too and get some proper sleep, I might just bend the rules again." She left Rachel staring after her and disappeared behind one of the other doors.

The door to Carole's room opened and Burt Hummel stepped out.

"Rachel. It's been a long time."

"Hello Mr. Hum-, Burt. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, we all are. Don't just stand there. Come give this old man a hug." Burt held out his arms and Rachel obliged. "Kurt said you wanted to sit with Carole for a while. Go on in. I'll be there in a second."

Rachel nodded. Kurt was standing at the door and she squeezed his hand as she passed him to enter the room. Kurt closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with Carole. Rachel stood at the end of the bed, not sure what she was supposed to do. Looking at Carole, despite all the bandages and tubes, she looked peaceful, truly like she was sleeping and enjoying pleasant dreams. Her face was smooth, albeit bruised. There was a chair close on one side of the bed, next to Carole's left hand. Rachel realised that she didn't need to know what to do. Acting on instinct, she moved to the right side of the bed and kissed Carole's forehead gently. "Hey, Carole," she softly. "You were right about me and wrong too, just like I've been right and wrong about so many things. But one thing we've both always known. I love your son and that will never change." Rachel cupped Carole's right hand in her own but jumped and dropped it on hearing a tiny cough. Burt was standing with his back against the closed door.

"You can hold her hand, Rachel. It's okay." Burt stepped further into the room. "There's a chair in the corner. Do you want me to pull it up?"

"No, I'll do it if I need it. I'm so short and the bed's so tall that this is perfect height for me anyway."

Burt gave a little smile. "Okay." He took the chair on the other side of the bed, taking Carole's left hand and stroking it.

"Do you think she can hear us?"

"I like to think so. The doctors say it's possible. We've all talked to her until we're hoarse. I wanted to bring in a radio or something but they say it's not allowed. We'll have to wait for her to be moved out of ICU."

Rachel had a thought. She almost rejected it as absurd but as she stared down at Carole, it wouldn't go away. "I know this is really cheesy and probably completely inappropriate but-but maybe I could sing to her. She loved music and maybe it would help."

Burt shrugged. "It might. I'm up for trying anything at this point."

"What's her favourite song?"

"She's a bit of a rocker which I know isn't your thing but lately, you know what she's been listening to a lot? That disc Will Schuester burned for us long ago, before Finn went into the army." Rachel frowned, not understanding. "Of New Directions. Will had a lot of recordings of you guys; practice for all the competition pieces, a few others. He did a compilation for us, ones with Kurt and Finn in them. And you."

"Oh, wow. I had no idea."

"Carole had it in the car. She made me put in an old CD player just to hear it. Will offered to redo it in another format, but she loved that actual CD. It was always on whenever she drove anywhere." He chuckled. "I'd ask her for rides just so I could hear them occasionally too." He shook his head sadly. "It's gone now, in the wreck. Mangled, like everything else." He stared down at his wife. Rachel forced herself not to look away even though she felt her own tears welling. She watched and reached into her memory. The words weren't all right for Burt and Carole but a lot of them were and they were as right as they were at the time they were written for her and Finn. Well, for her anyway. She started to sing softly.

Face to face and heart to heart
We're so close yet so far apart
I close my eyes, I look away
That's just because I'm not okay
But I hold on, I stay strong
Wondering if we still belong

Rachel's voice, a little tremulous at first, got stronger and stronger as she relived the song she'd sung with Finn at New York Nationals. By the time she finished "Pretending," tears were streaming down her face, pooling under her chin and dripping onto Carole's still hand.

"That was beautiful, Rachel." Burt was wiping away a tear of his own.

"Finn wrote that."

"I know. It's a wonderful song."

"It is." They were both startled by the voice and turned their heads to the door. Nurse Radnor was standing there, observing. "And even though I'm sure the other patients would have enjoyed it if they weren't so ill, I need to ask that you try and keep the volume down." With that, the nurse turned and shut the door behind her.

Burt broke the silence that followed. "Shame Finn never believed in it."

Rachel stared at Burt quizzically.

"He always got embarrassed when we played it. Said it wasn't good enough for Nationals and lost you the championship." Burt held up his hand on seeing Rachel ready to interject. "I know, I know. But that's Finn all over. You wrote the song that got you to Nationals. He wrote the one that lost you Nationals. The sad thing is, he's never tried to write one since and we both thought he showed real talent for it."

Rachel didn't know what to say. She realized that Finn had never shared with her his feelings that New York was his solely his fault or that the song wasn't good enough. She'd always just assumed that he accepted that they had equal responsibility for blowing it with the kiss. More and more as she came into his world again, she was seeing just how little they really communicated when they were teenagers; at least before Finn put her on that train. That was real.

A longer silence ensued. "Well, at least Nurse Ratched didn't throw me out," Rachel said to break it. "She told me not to stay long."

"She must be starting to like you. And I think she has a crush on Finn."

"Who doesn't?"

Burt regarded her carefully. "Why are you here, Rachel? I mean, in Lima."

It was a fair question. The answer was difficult. She knew what she wanted now but should she be telling Burt before she told Finn? "I wanted to help if I could," she said simply. "You and Kurt and-and Finn." She rushed on. "I can cook and clean and do what Blaine was doing until Carole's sister gets here at least, and beyond if you like. And I can bully you."

Burt stared at her quizzically.

"Burt, I can only imagine how hard and horrible this is for you but you all are so tired. You need to take care of yourselves and you need to take care of your sons. What's Carole going to say when she wakes up and you're all physical and mental wrecks? She'll be so mad!"

"You're not pulling any punches," Burt said drily.

"They wouldn't tell you this themselves but they're worried about you on top of having to cope with what's happened to Carole. They need some reassurance and you're the only one who can give it. Go home. Get a good night's sleep and make sure they do too. I've restocked the kitchen so have a big breakfast with them and talk. You know I'm right."

"You don't understand, Rachel. When she wakes up, she needs to see someone who loves her."

"And she will. Even if it's not you or Kurt or Finn, it'll be somebody like me." Her voice softened. "Go home, Burt. Take a break. I'll stay tonight. My dads are overseas and there's nothing for me but an empty house. Go home. Rest. Please. For Carole and for your sons."

Burt opened his mouth to argue and then closed it again after seeing no sign on her face that she intended to relent. He checked his pockets. "I can't go home. Finn's got the car."

Rachel took the keys for the Range Rover and threw them at Burt. "Take my dad's car, the green Range Rover. Lot F4; just point in the general vicinity and press. It'll light up like a Christmas tree. Go."

Burt nodded reluctantly and headed for the door. He paused at the door and looked back. "Be careful with Finn's heart, Rachel. Besides his father, you're the only one who's ever been able to break it."

+...+

Rachel alternated between singing soft songs to Carole and taking fitful naps on the uncomfortable chair that Burt had claimed as his own. When she wasn't doing either, she talked. She told Carole about her life in New York and California, about Drumm, about how she'd come to realise that it all meant so little without Finn.

"Burt said Finn's dad and I are the only ones who broke his heart. He's sort of wrong on both counts, you know. Sorry, Carole, but I don't think his dad broke his heart, I think you did by lying to him for so long. If you were awake, I think you'd agree with me. As for me, there was a time I could break his heart, but now…? I so wish you would wake up. You'd know. You could tell me if this is a fool's journey after what I did to him."

It was much later, after the intrusion of a ridiculously young-looking, pretty nurse checking on Carole, that Rachel told the unconscious woman about the abortion, fighting through tears to get it out. Between the nurse hovering and her own emotions, it was a while after that before Rachel could focus and when she could, she sang.

What have I done?
I wish I could run,
Away from this ship going under
Just trying to help
Hurt everyone else
Now I feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders

What can you do when your good isn't good enough
And all that you touch tumbles down?
Cause my best intentions
Keep making a mess of things,
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it-

"Excuse me. Who are you and what are you doing?"

It was an indignant male voice this time. Another officious nurse was standing at the door, staring down at her. A voice behind him said, "She's singing a song she wrote. It's okay, Brad. That's Rachel."

"Mr. Hudson, you know the rule - family members only."

"She is family," Finn said. "Brad, meet my fiancée."

Drumm: Chapter Twenty-Five

"Fiancée?"

"A wife can't testify against her husband."

For such a smart crook, Sallis was woefully ill-informed in other ways. Elsa knew spousal privilege didn't include events before marriage and more, she knew that just the previous year, the law had changed to allow wives to testify against their defendant husbands if they wanted to. Now was definitely not the time to tutor Sallis on the law.

"How could I resist such a wonderfully romantic proposal?" Even playing along with his ignorance, Elsa was finding it impossible to disguise the sarcasm.

"It's not a proposal, princess," Sallis said. "It's a lifeboat."

"Marriage or death, is that what you're saying?"

"I'm not saying anything," he said, dangerously quiet. "I'm waiting for you to tell me why there was a fucking cop in my fucking apartment."

"Baby, you know I stay out of your business. I couldn't tell her anything that would hurt you." He wasn't appeased and Elsa shrugged. "As for the cop, I've got no idea, Wilson. She turned up with questions about a guy I used to know. I've told you what she asked and what I said."

"So, how did you know this Jason Montana?"

Elsa was on dangerous ground but she'd known since the cop arrived that this was going to be difficult. She'd spun Sallis a tale about her family. She thought furiously about how to layer Jason in without destroying the image she's created. "After my parents died and I went to live with my aunt and uncle in Massachusetts, I took part in a local talent contest. Jason was at MIT but his girlfriend was from Cambridge and she was also a contestant. He liked my voice and got talking to my aunt and uncle about my future. I think Jason wasn't sure he wanted a career in science and he loved music. I don't know; he took an interest in me." She glanced up at Sallis through her lashes. He was sneering. "Not like that. I was a kid. He and his girlfriend kind of adopted me for a while and liked hearing me sing to them. They would take me out sometimes, to amusement parks or the movies. Then they broke up, Jason graduated and that's the last I saw of him until he walked into the Pink Leopard one night."

It was more complicated than she would have liked but keeping it simple would have sailed too close to the truth. Jason going to MIT, the only thing he could really verify, was the truth. The rest was nonsense but he'd never be able to check up on it. At least, she hoped not.

"And?"

"And nothing. The first time I saw him at the club, he said he didn't like that I was working there. Yesterday, somebody let him in when I was rehearsing. He repeated his opinion forcefully and I told him to mind his own business. That's all."

"But that's not all, is it, princess? The cops knew to come to you. How did that happen?"

"I don't know, Wilson. It's not like I called them. I didn't know he was dead until that cop told me." Elsa's own opinion was that Drumm was involved but she couldn't say that, not least because she wouldn't give much for her or Drumm's chances if she did. "Besides," she added, bracing herself for the physical response that often followed her prying into his business, "why are you so worked up about it? They came to see me, not you."

Elsa watched his face a while before relaxing. He wasn't going to hit her again. He had other things going on, she was sure. She was a just a minor irritation. Sallis ignored her and rose with a dismissive, "Don't talk to the cops again," and left the room. Elsa let out her breath slowly.

+...+

There were snatches of light, blurry figures and the feeling of a needle in his arm. Drumm was conscious of them only briefly before descending back into a whirling darkness of euphoria and fear. He knew the euphoria was false though enticing. It was going to kill him as it nearly had before but there was sweetness there, a place where he could let go and be lost. He tried to concentrate on the fear instead but that reduced him to tears and regrets. Theo, life, his relapse into addiction, Elsa. Her face more than any other kept floating in front of his eyes. She was enticing euphoria too. She didn't belong in the realm of fear except she did. Nothing scared him more than the strength of his feelings for her. Nothing scared him more than the probability that she would destroy him. He clawed his way back out of fear, taking respite in euphoria again. There, at least, she was a comforting presence.

+...+

"Elizabeth, we're not stalling. We don't know where he is. Mitch and Alyssa are out looking for him plus I'm using every contact I have to try and find him." Sid was doing his best not to fidget in Theo's chair. Elizabeth Mortimer was spearing him with her glare. He bore it only slightly better than he was bearing losing the kid and that was not at all.

"Sid, I'm going to be very unhappy if I find you've withheld important information about this."

Sid held up his hands. "What do you want from me, Lizzie? I've told you Sally Strong's story but I can't put you in touch with her because Drumm's the one with the address. I've told you the story Sophie Canton told Drumm and about her wanting us to find Montana. I've given what background we have on Montana which, quite frankly, isn't much and you're in a better position to investigate. What more can I do?"

"I am finding Drumm's disappearance mighty convenient, Sid."

"You don't seriously think Drumm's involved, do you?"

Elizabeth sighed. "No, Drumm's no killer but he seems to have a bad habit of getting in the middle of things and causing chaos around him. I just need to get all this from him. Right now it's all third-hand and nothing I can take to a judge."

"So, the evidence is…"

"Not there. We have the janitor from the Pink Leopard who witnessed the argument between Miss Cannotti and the victim. Her story matched the janitor's plus witnesses have her in the club until she left with Sallis. If Drumm did see Montana's body being put into Sallis's car, she's in the clear. We have a bum who saw the body being dumped but he's unreliable. He's changed the license plate number he claims he saw three times so far although his description of the car matches the one Drumm probably saw. We've searched Montana's apartment and found nothing, including that research he's supposed to have. By all signs, he hasn't had a job since he since he left Cantor Corp; a legitimate one, anyway." She sighed again. "I don't need another unsolved on my record, Sid. Thurlow's aching for a reason to bust me back down to beat cop just because I won't shut up about Theo."

"I'm sorry. Until we find the kid…."

"How long has it been?"

"Two days. Forty-eight hours in," Sid said, checking his watch, "six hours. Last we saw of him, he was heading out to tell Sophie Cantor about Montana. She says he never turned up. Mitch got into the company and checked their logs; no record of him turning up there. No sightings at her apartment."

"When you report him missing, that's probably the first person they'll want to talk to. I've got nothing, but there's no harm me getting in first, I suppose. I'll drop in on her, see if I can get anything."

"Thanks, Elizabeth. I know he can be a pain in the ass, but I'm really worried about him."

+...+

Elsa was off her leash. Tony was still a no-show and Sallis was so wrapped up in his own business he forgot to set any guards on her. The big, round goon never left his side now. As Elsa let the hairdresser ease her down onto the neck rest on the sink, she considered what she might do with her freedom. By the time she was done, she knew.

Tipping generously with Sallis's money, Elsa left the salon. Elsa still had Theo's card and she gazed at it, noting the address. She knew she ought to call instead but thought she needed to see him face to face. Then there was a chance she could judge his answers, find out what he'd told the cops and what he was doing. Over the phone, it would be easier for him to fool her.

She set off at a sharp trot.

+...+

"I'm sorry, Detective, I don't really have anything more to add to what I told Mr. Drummond's colleague. I haven't seen Mr. Drummond since last week."

"I understand," Elizabeth said, "but I'm really here to talk about Jason Montana."

"I see. I can confirm that I asked Mr. Drummond, both Mr. Drummonds in fact, to find Jason. He was my fiancé and I wanted to make sure he was all right."

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"We parted on bad terms but I bore him no ill will. I just wanted to make sure he was okay, that's all."

"What about this research you claimed he took from the company?"

Elizabeth was pleased to note the slight narrowing of Sophie Cantor's eyes. It was the first sign she'd seen that anything could crack the hard nut exterior of this calm and self-possessed woman.

"I was led to believe my discussions with Mr. Drummond were to be kept strictly confidential, detective."

"People rarely keep things confidential in a murder inquiry, Miss Cantor, unless they have something to hide. Do you have something to hide?"

"I have a company to help run, detective, and my time is limited. I will say that yes, there was some research into immunodeficiency and if you find it, please note that it belongs to Cantor Corp. Have you found it?"

"No, Miss Cantor. I have not. What should I be looking for?"

"Notes, graphs, statistics, patient records, chemical formulae; things like that. It's highly valuable and I wouldn't want it to go astray. In fact, if that were to happen, you can be assured that the company would be looking for significant compensation."

"I'll keep my eye out," Elizabeth said dryly. "Okay, so, tell me about the association between Cantor Corp and the Pink Leopard night club."

That definitely got a response. The ice princess was not happy. "There is no connection, detective," Sophie said sharply. "And now, if you'll excuse me, we're in the middle of a public floatation and I am needed elsewhere. Good day."

+...+

Elsa found the office and paused. She glanced around, trying to see if anyone had taken an interest in her. During the walk, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe Sallis hadn't given her freedom, but rope. She'd nearly turned back, realising that calling would be safer; safer but less effective. The rest of the journey she kept darting glances behind her. As far as she could tell, she was not being followed. Taking a last look around and a deep breath, she went through the door of the Drummond Investigations.

In front of her was a short hallway leading to a door at the end. Halfway down the hall was a bench against the wall on the right, opposite open double doors. Elsa could hear voices. She stepped forward but paused as she began to make out words.

"In two hours, we can file a missing person's report." It was a gravelly voice. Elsa reckoned it was someone old.

"Which will do no good. Thurlow will see to that. He gave Lisa that report to use to take this place away from us. He'd be happy if Drumm's never found." Another man, younger, she thought briefly before the words hit her. Drumm had disappeared?

Elsa felt her stomach drop to her toes. Her eyes started to water. In her world, there was only one reason people disappeared. Sallis. But how? How could he know about Drumm beyond Drumm's first bumbling into the club after Theo's death? Had Elsa said or done something to betray Drumm? Oh, God! First Jason and now Drumm?

"Have either of you considered that Drumm may have gone back to his old habits?" New voice, female, familiar.

"You don't believe that, Alyssa, do you?" The younger man again.

"No," the woman called Alyssa, who wasn't Alyssa to Elsa, said slowly, "but you can bet for damn sure that's what will come back from the cops."

Elsa stepped firmly into the office and regarded the three occupants, staring openly at her. She turned to the woman.

"Hello, Pepper."

Song credits: "Pretending" written by Adam Anders, Peer Åström and Shelly Peiken

"Get It Right" written by Adam Anders, Nikki Hassman and Peer Åström

To those taking the time to review, thank you.