Saturday, March 6

She wakes up on a hard, wooden floor. Her body aches, and she can't remember why. She brushes her hair away from her face, combing her fingers through the knots. There is no one else in the room. She gets to her feet slowly and looks around. The moon is full tonight, casting its light through the open windows. She sees a figure in white. Startled, she steps back, her hand flying to her mouth, a scream dying in her throat. The figure steps back too, mimicking her actions exactly and she realizes it's her reflection. She approaches the mirror slowly. The nightgown is thin and sticks to her skin, moist with perspiration. She hears the waves crash against the shore, smells the salt air, the humid air thick on and around her. And then she hears him.

"Mary . . ."

The voice is strangely familiar, though not the one she expected to hear. It is not the smooth, honeyed voice of her dreams but right now, it is all she knows.

Confused (she knows she's not Mary) but not frightened, she heads for the staircase. It spirals upwards and she's overcome by a sudden dread: do not go up there!

"Mary, please," he says, and she knows she can't leave without knowing that he's okay. She begins to climb.

. . . and the stench is overwhelming and she tries not to breathe in but the air rushes into her lungs, burning, burning, burning . . .

Behind her: "Mary!"

She turns around slowly because now she is afraid and . . . oh God! He's standing there smiling at her and at his feet are Judy and Benita and they're dead!

"Mary," he says, stepping closer. There's something in his hands, something dripping onto the floor. The coppery scent fills her nose and she gags.

"Look, Mary. For you." He extends his hands and she sees the head, its eyes looking at her, pleading with her, condemning her.

Monday, March 8

Calleigh stifled a yawn before sipping her coffee. She and Alexx sat in the break room; Alexx with a new flavor tea she had wanted Calleigh to try.

"Calmly Chamomile," Calleigh read and smiled. "Thanks, but I need the caffeine to keep me awake."

"Rough weekend?"

"I wish. I'm still having trouble sleeping. I can't believe I'm saying this but I think I need a break."

"So take one."

"After the Williams/Tomas case is solved, maybe."

"Sure. Wait until you're completely burned out. Then take a vacation."

"Horatio needs us all on this case."

Alexx laughed. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

Alexx leaned in and lowered her voice. "You don't want to take leave because you can't bear the thought of not seeing a certain Lieutenant."

"That's not true."

Alexx arched a delicate eyebrow. "So ask for leave. I dare you."

"What are you two ladies conspiring about today?" Horatio asked from behind them.

Calleigh flushed. "Nothing. I, umm, I have to go. Alexx, not a word." She grabbed her coffee cup and hurried out.

"What was that about?" Horatio asked.

Alexx smiled. "Just girl talk. Do you want some tea?"

Friday, March 12

Calleigh was not at all surprised when someone called in a body on the beach. The surprise came when she arrived on the scene and found that the man had been beheaded. She stopped in her tracks, remembering the turn her dream had taken, and suddenly felt ill.

"Calleigh?"

Horatio's hand on her shoulder drew her back to the present.

"I'm fine," she said automatically. Then, "It's a man."

"Yes."

"Maybe it's not related."

"I thought so at first, but then I realized the significance of the head."

She gave him a blank look. "Sunday school was a long time ago, Horatio."

"John the Baptist was beheaded. Salome danced for Herod and brought him the head on a plate. John was Jesus' cousin."

Calleigh licked her lips and glanced at the body. "So it's definitely religious?"

"It is the Lenten season."

"What did you give up?" Alexx asked, catching the end of the conversation as she joined them. "I did the three C's: chocolate, cake and caffeine."

Horatio gave a wry smile and shook his head slightly.

"You know, I met someone at a medical conference a couple of years ago. An FBI agent. She worked for a division that specialized in, uh, unusual cases." Alexx switched from casual to professional in a heartbeat.

"Do you have a name?"

Alexx nodded. "Sure. Dana Scully. Want me to give her a call?"

Monday, March 15

"It's the same as the others," Alexx said. "Jonathan Lazarus was strangled then his head was chopped off. I found the same traces of soap that were on Benita Tomas' body."

"And I've still got nothing to tie any of the victims together," Speed said.

"Excuse me." There was a knock at Horatio's office door and a tall brunette entered. "Lieutenant Caine? I'm Special Agent Monica Reyes."

Calleigh smiled in recognition; she had briefly known Monica in New Orleans, years ago. She'd been a rookie officer investigating a ritualistic killing and Monica Reyes was the FBI agent called in to help.

"We were expecting Agent Scully," Horatio said.

"She's retired from the X-Files. But when she told me about your call, I thought I'd come down."

"What exactly are the X-Files?"

"Cases that can't be explained through any normal investigative means. Cases involving the paranormal, the—"

Eric chuckled. "You mean, like aliens and UFO's?"

Monica didn't miss a beat. "And monsters, bogeymen, demons. You name it."

"There's nothing paranormal about this case," Horatio said, a trace of skepticism in his voice. Calleigh wondered if he was regretting his decision to call the FBI.

Monica smiled. "Probably not. But I have a Masters degree in folklore and mythology, and before I joined the X-Files I worked on ritual murders and cases involving the occult."

Horatio stared at her for a moment, his expression giving nothing away. Then he smiled. "Welcome to the team, Agent Reyes. That's Alexx Woods, our ME. Tim Speedle. Eric Delko. Calleigh Duquesne."

They smiled as Horatio introduced them. Monica's gaze settled on Calleigh.

"We've met, haven't we?"

Calleigh nodded. "The Ryker case."

"Yes, of course. It's good to see you again."

"Have a seat, Agent Reyes," Horatio said. "Alexx was just telling us about the latest victim."

End part three.