Lactaphobia 4 Disclaimer: Did Dobby lead the reader to believe that I owned Monk??! Oh, Dobby is so bad! I must put my ears in the oven again. (A.N. to all non- Harry Potter fans (1) Why not? They're so wonderful. (2) Don't ask. It really makes no sense.) ************************************************************* The other cops sniffed the air. None of them smelled anything. Monk clarified. "It smells like. . ." His face squished up. "Rancid milk." He looked terrified. Sharona rushed to his side. "Are you all right? Breathe, Adrian." "What's going on?" Stottlemyer asked. "He's afraid of milk," Sharona told him, still helping Adrian breathe. Stottlemyer was dumbfounded. "Milk?" "Yes," Sharona snapped, a tad defensively. "He doesn't like to drink bodily fluids. I think that's reasonable." She paused. "I can't believe I just said that." "We walked past the kitchen as we came in. It wasn't coming from there.. The smell is from right here." Monk sniffed a little more. Finally, he picked up a strand of her curled hair in a gloved hand, smelled that. "There was no water in the tub because she wasn't drowned in water.. Ladies and gentlemen," One of the other detectives came into the bathroom with a full carton of milk from the victim's fridge. "I give you the murder weapon." "That's the murder weapon?" "Well, not that exact one. He drained the milk that he drowned her with." Monk looked thoughtful for a minute. "How long did the cororner say thiat she's been dead?" "About two hours, why?" "He's not only a murderer, he's a sadist, too. He drowned her in milk that was already sour." ************************************************************** "Three murders so far, same MO," Stottlemyer said out loud for the sake of the fanfiction readers. "We're pretty sure it's the same guy in all three cases." "Have you noticed the appearance of the victims?" "How's that.?" "They have a lot in common. The hair, for example, is almost identical.. Blue eyes in all three cases. Same features. Don't you find that odd?" "You know," Sharona spoke up. "They kinda look like.. . .well, me. You don't think he would come after me, do you, I mean, if he's looking for people who look like this?" Monk laughed as if it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. "Don't be ridiculous. You have nothing in common with these women. All three of them were uneducated, one of them was a street walker." Sharona smiled, reassured. "Besides," he continued, "These women were between the ages of nineteen and twenty seven. You're much, much older." Death glare.

R&R! Love you! Stay 'Shippy!