TITLE : Mummy Dearest
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : SBR
RATING : R
SPOILERS : Probably
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : A series of bizarre murders lead the VCTF team to Brooklyn, and a strange encounter brings Sam and Bailey closer than ever.
NOTES : Okay, I'm back after a somewhat long hiatus. . . Feedback is always welcome, actually I'm pining for it. Please have patience with me. . . I know this seems to be dragging a bit.
Cheers!
Gomes.
---------------- Mummy Dearest, part 8. ----------------
Brooklyn Museum, New York
Bailey watched as the Brooklyn Museum came into view. He was about to get out when he overheard something on the radio. "Hey, can you turn it up?" He asked the cabby.
""". . . Another man has been reported missing since last week. Ian Tiles was reported missing, and no trace of the body or kidnappers have been found. Tiles was one of New York's famed scientists in fossils and had a bachelor's in History. He was set to receive an award at the National Historians Institute for all his hard work in. . . . . ."""
Bailey stepped out of the cab and paid the driver. He put on his cap and proceeded to walk to the rear entrance of the famed museum. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. While waiting for the door to be answered, he glanced at his surroundings: the backyard of the museum was completely fenced in, hidden from the rest of the world. The only way in was either from a small side path - which he had taken, or from a large gate that opened mechanically. Two large trucks were already parked in the small parking lot to which he noticed that both of them were deserted. Finally, he heard a latch open and the door opened, leaving a high-pitched squealing noise in its wake. "Morning." Bailey tipped his hat.
"You the new guy?" A small, stout man asked him. "I'm Jim Bosco, welcome to 'Shippers at Large'." He extended his hand.
"Randall." Bailey shook his hand. "Sorry I'm a little late." Bailey added, stepping inside.
"It's okay, we're just finishing up our breakfast." Jim lead him to the others, sitting in a small room. He pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit. "This is Rick Sherbrook, Tommy Hopps and Frank Smart." He introduced the rest of the team. "This here is Randall, the new guy." He turned to Bailey. "I'm glad you're here, actually - three others called in sick."
Bailey poured himself a coffee. "So, have you been delivering for the museum for a long time?"
"Only since Ms. Pounds became the curator." Tommy replied.
"Do you deliver other artifacts or just the Egyptian ones?" Bailey asked.
"Like I said, we work only for Ms. Pounds. She trusts us with her expensive relics, and pays us real well too!" Frank added. "We don't ask questions really; we just deliver, set up and get out. She sends a hefty check to the company and then we split that money between the ones who worked that day."
"She pays you daily?" Bailey asked.
"Yeah," Frank answered, "because this isn't a daily job. She gives us a call whenever there's a shipment. We pick it up directly from the cargo ship, bring it here and set it up."
"Is Ms. Pounds here, today?" Bailey asked, standing up.
"Nah, only Rick's seen her." Jim pointed to the younger one. "Once." He added with a shrug. "What's it matter anyway, huh? As long as I'm getting the dough, I'm fine." He checked his watch. "Alright, let's go!"
Rick walked up behind Bailey. "Hey, stick with me, I'll show you around."
"Thanks." Bailey smiled and patted him on the back.
The men grouped around the first truck. "Okay, larger artifacts first, then move to the smaller ones. The layout is on a table inside the museum." Jim gave his orders. "And don't break anything." He added as an after-thought, spawning laughter from all the men.
Rick climbed into the truck and pushed a large rectangular crate to the edge. "Hey, bring the trolley." Bailey did as instructed and they loaded the crate on to it. He hopped down, and began to wheel the trolley towards the museum's warehouse entrance. "So, how did you come across us?" Rick asked.
"Uh.recommendations and I needed the money. I met Pricilla Pounds who got me an interview and I got the job. Got a phone call telling me to be here at this time." Bailey said, nonchalantly, hoping that his story would fool the guy.
"So, first day then?" Rick said, trying to make conversation. "You'll see, once you get the hang of it, you can do it in your sleep." He opened the warehouse door, and punched in a code.
"Does everyone know the code to disarm the museum?" Bailey asked.
"Nah, just me.that was the time I met Pounds." Rick added, and pushed the trolley into the museum.
The museum had a haunting air to it, when dark and deserted. Bailey observed the range of mummies, hieroglyphics, paintings and relics, noting that each took on an eerie facet when encased in darkness. The lights flickered on, and Rick pushed his way through. He inclined the trolley, and Bailey stopped the crate from tipping over, easing it on to the ground.
Bailey let out a breath. "Damn, that's heavy."
Rick grinned. "Yeah, that's why I took the trolley." He tossed him a crow bar. "I'm going to bring the trolley to the others, you start opening the box."
Bailey nodded and watched Rick stroll out with the trolley. He looked at the crate, and noted it's dimensions. It was pretty damn heavy - a good 150 pounds if not more. His muscles ached from the sudden weight but he took the crow-bar and started prying open the walls of the crate. After about five minutes, the four boards fell to the side and he took a step back, observing the subject inside. «Another mummy?» It was placed in a make- shift clear sarcophagus. «Probably a plastic case. . . » Bailey thought to himself.. It was heavily bandaged, and the sweet smell of wine mixed with the pungent smell of spices hung in the air. Something was wrong. . . something seemed funny about this mummy. It seemed smaller, more petite than the rest of them, and was bandaged really well; the light-grey material covering the entire body. It was placed in an odd manner: standing up with one leg slightly in front of the other, and an arm reaching out towards the sky. Blank black eyes stared back at him, but no life mirrored from them. Bailey looked up and noticed that Rick wasn't back yet. He bent down and took out his pocket knife. He slowly cut a small hole in the bandages, right below the heel. Then, taking his knife, he scraped along the heel, cutting off a piece of the skin. He took out a small clear bag, and dropped it in, sealing in tight as he finished. He was about to move on to another mummy and take a sample when a noise caused him to jump to his feet. He reached for his gun but then grimaced, realizing that he was 'Randal' and not 'Bailey the FBI Agent'.
"Hey, you got it open pretty fast." Rick entered, munching on a donut. "Sure you've never done this before?"
Bailey stood up nervously. "Yeah. . ." He waited for Rick to turn his back then pocketed the bag.
"Alright, let's lift this baby and put 'em in the display case over there." Rick muttered, as he cut through the make-shift sarcophagus. "Okay. . ." Rick grunted. "This is where you come in."
"Oh." Bailey stated and both men slowly placed the mummy in the display case.
"Good work. Pretty strong there, buddy." Rick mentioned, and gave Bailey a small slap on his biceps. "Damn! I should just sit back and let you do all the lifting."
Bailey smiled and raised his eyebrow. "If I get double the pay. . ."
Rick let out a roar. "Ha! Now you're getting it!" He pointed towards the door. "The others have already loaded a few smaller items, let's tackle them."
Bailey nodded and followed him. He stopped and turned around quickly, glancing back at the mummy. Staring at it, he glanced at the other one that was placed there. A movement at the far end of the museum caught his eye, and 'Bailey the FBI Agent' kicked in. He turned to Rick and motioned him to keep quiet. He slowly began walking towards the other side, trying to keep the noise level minimal. He walked around a display case with a gold casket standing upright, but at the last second, he shifted his direction and headed the other way. He came face to face with a young man. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh. . . I . . . " The young man looked utterly terrified.
Bailey took a few steps back and turned to Rick. "This isn't my area . . . I'll go get Jim, okay?"
Rick nodded. "Okay." He watched Bailey leave and turned to the young man. "So, what's your name?"
"I didn't mean to sneak up, but the door was open and I couldn't find anybody, so I started looking at my new work environment and I didn't know I broke the rules -" The young guy started speaking quickly.
"Wait, what do you mean 'new work environment'?" Rick asked, perplexed.
"Oh, I'm Malcolm Hotz, the new employee for 'Shippers at Large'. . . didn't you get the memo?" He handed him a paper with all his credentials and his new S.A.L badge.
Rick looked towards the door and let out a defeated laugh. "That son of a bitch." He furrowed his brow. "Come with me." He told the young guy. "I'll show you around." He let Malcolm go out before him and turned to the empty museum hall. He nodded towards the darkness and exited. A few seconds later, the sound of a door closing echoed through the vacant room.
***
Comfort Inn, Brooklyn
Bailey wandered in to the hotel and scanned the lobby. It had been at least two hours since the team was supposed to meet up, and he felt bad for running out on them without letting on of his whereabouts. He walked up to the elevator and headed towards his room. He would fill in the others on his little 'expedition' later, right now the need to rest was overwhelming. Truth be told, he hadn't slept much the night before - the need to protect Sam was far too important than his strong desire to sleep. He had only allowed himself to venture into the unknown of Slumberland once the demon- filled night slowly crept to morn, and the bluish-hue of morning's light presented itself through the window. He opened the door to find Sam sitting on his bed, looking over some case files.
"Where on earth have you been?!" She demanded, obviously irritated.
Bailey put on his best puppy-dog look. "How did the meeting go?"
"I don't know . . . we were more worried about you." Sam replied getting up from his bed. "Where did you go?"
Bailey walked past Sam and collapsed face down on the bed. His muscles ached and he wanted to just curl up in his bed and sleep. "I went to the museum." Came a muffled reply.
Sam sat down beside her mentor. She placed a hand between his shoulder blades and gently rubbed his back. "You're tense, Bailey." She began kneading his shoulders with one hand.
Bailey moaned in response. "God Sam . . . you're wonderful." He sighed aloud.
Sam smiled and straddled the small of his back. She paused, taken aback by her boldness, smiled and began digging her fingers into his heavily muscled shoulders and back, working on the tension and knots. "Alright, a massage in exchange for information." She grinned.
"Hey. . . I don't take bribes." Bailey muttered.
Sam stopped abruptly. "Fine. . .I guess you'll have to deal with your tense muscles yourself." She began to get off his back.
"Okay, okay! I'll talk!" Bailey shouted melodramatically. "Just. . ." He motioned for her to continue massaging his back. He closed his eyes, breathing in to the bedspread. He could feel himself getting even more aroused as she straddled the small of his back once more. He felt relieved that he was lying on his belly, thus hiding his 'excited' state. Having her so close never felt so good. «She's with Coop. . .» He reminded himself, hurting immensely at the fact that they were just friends - nothing more.
Sam felt herself grow warm as she lowered herself on to his back. She yearned to let her hands venture under his shirt, feeling and groping his hot skin. She wanted to feel every inch of him with her hands, but she knew that the desire would evolve, leaving her begging to feel his naked body against hers. She wanted to be crushed in an embrace, surrounded by his incredible arms. She wanted to feel herself pressed against his hard chest. She wanted to feel . . . him. "So? Talk."
"Okay. . .that package you gave me this morning, had some credentials that I had asked George to send up. I had him do a little research, to give me a way to get into the museum."
Sam moved her hands slightly lower on his back. "What made you want to go back to the museum?" She felt him shrug.
"I don't know. . . I just thought that something wasn't right there. Just, things seemed to convenient, you know? Anyway, so George sent me the package saying that he hacked into the computer systems at the museum and found out that 'Shippers at Large' were the only delivery service for the Mummy Display at the Museum." Bailey exhaled as Sam hit a sensitive spot.
"Sorry, did I hurt you?" She pulled her hands away from his body, but the sensation still remained.
"Nah. . . feels really good, Sam." Bailey's voice seemed to melt off his tongue. "George also sent me an I.D. badge and uniform, along with a date and time when the next shipment would arrive. Unfortunately, the package arrived not a moment too soon, because the call for the new worker was in half an hour. That's why I didn't have time to let you guys know. . ." Bailey trailed off.
"Did you find anything?" Sam asked, eager to discover what her boss had learnt from his 'undercover' stint.
"Bailey?" A voice came from outside the door, followed by a couple of knocks.
Sam got off Bailey, but remained seated on the bed as she awaited her boss to answer the door.
Bailey froze: getting up would reveal his strong attraction to Sam and cause nothing but embarrassment at work. He didn't care about the mockeries that would probably arise at the office, it was the fear of Sam being disgusted with him that terrified him. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Sam, could you get that please?" He remained on his tummy.
Sam looked at him oddly, but thought nothing of it. "Sure, Bail." She opened the door and greeted Nathan and John.
Bailey remained in his position, but propped himself up on his elbows. He moved slightly, so that he was facing the agents. "What's wrong?"
The two agents walked in and stood at the foot of the bed, facing Bailey. "Well, we got worried when you didn't show up at the meeting. You didn't answer your cell or leave a note. . . so we told Sam to stay here and we went looking for you." Nathan said, sitting on a chair.
"Then we realized that it's freaking Brooklyn, and we would have sooner found the bloody needle in a haystack before we would find you." John added, taking a seat across from Nathan.
"Thanks for your concern, guys." He smiled at them. He glanced at Sam when she took a seat beside him on the bed. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her thigh rub against his leg. "So, let's have our meeting then." He replied shakily.
"Okay, Valerie Klunk is suspicious, I can give you that much. She had a motive to kill her father: he abused her and her mother way back when. Her mother was admitted to a psychiatric ward, and just recently passed away." Nathan said, opening a file. "Her mother passed away two years ago."
Bailey nodded. "Okay, so Klunk has a motive, but what's her drive to donate most if not all of the money to this fundraiser and excavation?"
"And why would she dispose of two others in the same manner, when all she needed was her father's life insurance?" Sam added, as an after-thought.
John shrugged. "Maybe the two others were witnesses?"
Bailey sighed. "It'll be hard to say, until we get some forensic evidence from Grace. I want to know what killed these men." Bailey looked at Nathan. "Good work. John?" He turned to the younger agent.
John squirmed in his seat. "See. . . I couldn't locate Keri Yule." He said slowly, looking down. When his eyes finally met Bailey's, he sped up his explanation. "I questioned most if not all of the people at the fundraiser, and no one saw her! I called her husband, and it appears that he failed to mention that he and Keri had been separated for two weeks. They had a huge argument and she moved in with one of her girlfriends." John shrugged. "The only thing he remembered was her mentioning the Mummy display."
Bailey nodded. "Now, Yule's husband - could he be a suspect?"
John shook his head. "I don't think so. . . unless we find a common ground as to why he would take out Klunk and Jones too."
"So, we're back to square one - they all have motives to kill one, but not to kill the others." Sam noted.
Nathan motioned to Sam and Bailey. "What did you guys find?"
Bailey spoke up. "Well, it appeared the Jones were very much loved by their neighborhood. No known enemies, did volunteer work and so on."
"But get this, Corey Jones volunteered as a 'Big Brother' type, for children with no parents and what-not." Sam interjected. "I stumbled across a picture in their living room."
"Yeah, if it wasn't for Sam's incredible eye for detail, we might have over- looked this connection." Bailey added, praising Sam.
Sam smiled. "It was a picture of Victoria Klunk."
"Are you sure?" John asked, thinking that it couldn't be that easy.
Sam nodded. "And Mrs. Jones confirmed it. She also mentioned that they had spoken two weeks prior and Corey had seemed rather upset after the phone call."
Bailey crossed his arms and leaned on them. "So Victoria Klunk is our number one suspect, with links to two of the victims."
John stood up and handed Bailey a file. "Correction, three of the victims." Bailey's questioning look prompted John to continue. "That girlfriend's house that Keri was supposedly staying at?" John let out a laugh. "Victoria Klunk."
Bailey shook his head. "I guess we got our leading suspect, though I don't want to rule out James Yule or even Sandra Jones. I want a close eye to be kept on them. . . they might make a move since the pressure is on."
"So, do we go arrest her now?" John asked, ready for action.
Nathan put his hands up. "Calm down, man. We don't have any evidence against her except these speculative ideas. It's all hear-say and she could walk away a free woman in court."
Bailey agreed. "Nathan's right, we have to wait until Grace gives us a some evidence from the lab before we can charge her with anything." Bailey checked his watch. "She's supposed to call this afternoon so we'll have to wait at least until then."
"I'm still troubled about her donations to the Museum. Is she that interested in Egyptian civilizations that she would kill just to donate?" Sam asked aloud.
"Maybe she thinks that the donating would spare her a trip to Hades." John remarked lamely.
"Are we sure that she killed just for the money? Or was it really because her father was abusive. And why kill Yule and Jones as well. Apparently Jones was her 'Big Brother' figure, and if she knew Keri, she obviously would have known Keri's brother." Bailey rubbed his tired eyes. "There's a physical connection, but what about a motivational connection."
All members fell silent. This conundrum, though at first seemed easy, was proving to be rather hard to certify its authenticity. Sam spoke up. "Bailey? You never finished telling me what you did at the Museum."
John and Nathan both sat up in their chairs. "Yeah, spill." Nathan coaxed him on.
"Okay, you know when you get these instincts? There was something fishy about the museum, and I wanted to see how the delivery was taken care of. I wanted to know who did it, when they did it and how they did it. Georgie sent me some papers, and I got in, posing as the new recruit. They showed me around and I observed that only one man knows the code to open and lock the doors, via the security system." Bailey took out a pen and paper. "His name was Rick. . ." He closed his eyes forcefully, trying to remember. ". . . Rick Sherbrook!" He noted it down. "Also, there was Jim Bosco, Tommy Hopps and Frank Smart." He wrote them down too. "They pick up all the deliveries at the cargo section of the airport, drive it back here, have a small breakfast and unload everything. They also told me that it's not a daily job - they're called a few days in advance whenever there's a shipment."
"So. . . did you find anything interesting?" Sam asked.
"I was with the Rick guy, and he instructed me to open a crate of a newly delivered Mummy. I opened it, and there was just this different air about it. So I took out my knife and scraped a piece of skin off the heel of the specimen."
"And?" John asked, excited.
"I sent it to Grace. . . hopefully she'll call me tomorrow with the results." Bailey responded.
"I know all we have right now are theories, but I think thanks to Bailey getting a sample and all the information we've gathered - I think we can solve this case." Sam said, in a positive manner.
Bailey checked his watch again. "It's about lunch time. . . what say we head out to a restaurant?" He asked the team.
Nathan and John seemed to have a guilty expression on their faces. "Uh. . . we already ate." John stuttered.
"Yeah, when we went looking for you, well, there were so many vendors on the street that we tried a few." Nathan added. "But you guys go ahead, John and I are going to go roam around a bit, maybe stop by the museum and see if we missed anything."
Bailey nodded. "Okay, sounds good." He watched the two agents leave. "Stay in touch." He called out after them. Turning to Sam, he smiled warmly. "I guess it's just you and me." Then, reality hit him like a sucker punch to the face. "Unless Coop wants to join us too." He couldn't help the venom leak out whenever he said his name.
Sam was about to tell him that her relationship with Coop was over, but something held her back. "He's not feeling very well, so I let him sleep." She lied. «Arg! Now why did I do that?» She leaned her head back on the headboard.
"Oh." Bailey said, delightfully surprised. "I saw a cozy little Italian restaurant on the way home. . . care to join me?" He got up and sat on the bed, facing away from Sam. "Uh, say we meet in the lobby in five minutes - I'm just going to freshen up." He waited for her to leave.
Sam smiled, but was perplexed as to why he wasn't looking her in the eye. «What's he hiding?» She watched him remain idly on the bed. "I'll wait for you here," she gave a quick pause thinking of a reason, "I, uh, don't want to wake up Coop." She felt more than she heard him sigh.
Bailey closed his eyes and assessed the situation. He knew she would see his state once he got up to go to the bathroom. "Okay. . ." He nodded. "I'm just going to take a quick shower," he laughed, "I'm sure my sweaty state isn't too pleasing."
Sam laughed in agreement, but truth be told, his musky smell seemed to ignite a fire deep within her. She longed to trail her tongue across his salty skin, run her hands through his damp hair, see his glistening body, feel their bodies slip against each other. She finally gathered her thoughts. "Okay, I'll watch some TV. . ."
Bailey took a deep breath, got up and walked briskly towards the bathroom. He stopped short when he heard her call his name and without thinking turned around to face her. "Yeah?" His eyes grew wide as he realized what he did, and turned back facing the door. He rolled his eyes at his 'discreet' manner. «Bravo.» He thought lamely to himself.
"Don't be long, I'm really hungry." She saw him nod and retreat into the bathroom. Sam let out the breath she was holding. She know understood his odd behaviour since the massage; he normally stood to greet people yet he remained on the bed, she had also felt him shiver when her thigh came into contact with his leg. He *was* hiding something. . . he was aroused. Sam's eyes glazed over, as the thought of her turning him on began to sink in. She didn't know how long she was daydreaming, but she was awakened by his soothing voice close to her ear. She looked at him, sitting down on the bed, beside her.
"Sam, you okay?" Bailey asked, caressing her face. Despite wanting to put a little distance between them, the recent fiasco almost cost him his best- friend, he couldn't keep his hands off of her.
Sam leaned into his touch, and smiled as his ice-cold hand melted into her skin. «A cold shower, Malone?» She smiled ruefully, though feeling alive to bring him to that state. "Yeah, I seem to have a habit of zoning out, huh?"
Bailey smiled and held out his hand. "You ready?"
"Definitely." She looked at his large, inviting hand, and enjoyed the sensation of her warm hand in his cold one. The two agents proceeded to the elevator and Sam promised herself that she would come clean with him today at lunch. She smiled inwardly, hoping that the reaction she would get from Bailey, would be the one she had been forever dreaming of.
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)
CATEGORY : SBR
RATING : R
SPOILERS : Probably
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.
SUMMARY : A series of bizarre murders lead the VCTF team to Brooklyn, and a strange encounter brings Sam and Bailey closer than ever.
NOTES : Okay, I'm back after a somewhat long hiatus. . . Feedback is always welcome, actually I'm pining for it. Please have patience with me. . . I know this seems to be dragging a bit.
Cheers!
Gomes.
---------------- Mummy Dearest, part 8. ----------------
Brooklyn Museum, New York
Bailey watched as the Brooklyn Museum came into view. He was about to get out when he overheard something on the radio. "Hey, can you turn it up?" He asked the cabby.
""". . . Another man has been reported missing since last week. Ian Tiles was reported missing, and no trace of the body or kidnappers have been found. Tiles was one of New York's famed scientists in fossils and had a bachelor's in History. He was set to receive an award at the National Historians Institute for all his hard work in. . . . . ."""
Bailey stepped out of the cab and paid the driver. He put on his cap and proceeded to walk to the rear entrance of the famed museum. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. While waiting for the door to be answered, he glanced at his surroundings: the backyard of the museum was completely fenced in, hidden from the rest of the world. The only way in was either from a small side path - which he had taken, or from a large gate that opened mechanically. Two large trucks were already parked in the small parking lot to which he noticed that both of them were deserted. Finally, he heard a latch open and the door opened, leaving a high-pitched squealing noise in its wake. "Morning." Bailey tipped his hat.
"You the new guy?" A small, stout man asked him. "I'm Jim Bosco, welcome to 'Shippers at Large'." He extended his hand.
"Randall." Bailey shook his hand. "Sorry I'm a little late." Bailey added, stepping inside.
"It's okay, we're just finishing up our breakfast." Jim lead him to the others, sitting in a small room. He pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit. "This is Rick Sherbrook, Tommy Hopps and Frank Smart." He introduced the rest of the team. "This here is Randall, the new guy." He turned to Bailey. "I'm glad you're here, actually - three others called in sick."
Bailey poured himself a coffee. "So, have you been delivering for the museum for a long time?"
"Only since Ms. Pounds became the curator." Tommy replied.
"Do you deliver other artifacts or just the Egyptian ones?" Bailey asked.
"Like I said, we work only for Ms. Pounds. She trusts us with her expensive relics, and pays us real well too!" Frank added. "We don't ask questions really; we just deliver, set up and get out. She sends a hefty check to the company and then we split that money between the ones who worked that day."
"She pays you daily?" Bailey asked.
"Yeah," Frank answered, "because this isn't a daily job. She gives us a call whenever there's a shipment. We pick it up directly from the cargo ship, bring it here and set it up."
"Is Ms. Pounds here, today?" Bailey asked, standing up.
"Nah, only Rick's seen her." Jim pointed to the younger one. "Once." He added with a shrug. "What's it matter anyway, huh? As long as I'm getting the dough, I'm fine." He checked his watch. "Alright, let's go!"
Rick walked up behind Bailey. "Hey, stick with me, I'll show you around."
"Thanks." Bailey smiled and patted him on the back.
The men grouped around the first truck. "Okay, larger artifacts first, then move to the smaller ones. The layout is on a table inside the museum." Jim gave his orders. "And don't break anything." He added as an after-thought, spawning laughter from all the men.
Rick climbed into the truck and pushed a large rectangular crate to the edge. "Hey, bring the trolley." Bailey did as instructed and they loaded the crate on to it. He hopped down, and began to wheel the trolley towards the museum's warehouse entrance. "So, how did you come across us?" Rick asked.
"Uh.recommendations and I needed the money. I met Pricilla Pounds who got me an interview and I got the job. Got a phone call telling me to be here at this time." Bailey said, nonchalantly, hoping that his story would fool the guy.
"So, first day then?" Rick said, trying to make conversation. "You'll see, once you get the hang of it, you can do it in your sleep." He opened the warehouse door, and punched in a code.
"Does everyone know the code to disarm the museum?" Bailey asked.
"Nah, just me.that was the time I met Pounds." Rick added, and pushed the trolley into the museum.
The museum had a haunting air to it, when dark and deserted. Bailey observed the range of mummies, hieroglyphics, paintings and relics, noting that each took on an eerie facet when encased in darkness. The lights flickered on, and Rick pushed his way through. He inclined the trolley, and Bailey stopped the crate from tipping over, easing it on to the ground.
Bailey let out a breath. "Damn, that's heavy."
Rick grinned. "Yeah, that's why I took the trolley." He tossed him a crow bar. "I'm going to bring the trolley to the others, you start opening the box."
Bailey nodded and watched Rick stroll out with the trolley. He looked at the crate, and noted it's dimensions. It was pretty damn heavy - a good 150 pounds if not more. His muscles ached from the sudden weight but he took the crow-bar and started prying open the walls of the crate. After about five minutes, the four boards fell to the side and he took a step back, observing the subject inside. «Another mummy?» It was placed in a make- shift clear sarcophagus. «Probably a plastic case. . . » Bailey thought to himself.. It was heavily bandaged, and the sweet smell of wine mixed with the pungent smell of spices hung in the air. Something was wrong. . . something seemed funny about this mummy. It seemed smaller, more petite than the rest of them, and was bandaged really well; the light-grey material covering the entire body. It was placed in an odd manner: standing up with one leg slightly in front of the other, and an arm reaching out towards the sky. Blank black eyes stared back at him, but no life mirrored from them. Bailey looked up and noticed that Rick wasn't back yet. He bent down and took out his pocket knife. He slowly cut a small hole in the bandages, right below the heel. Then, taking his knife, he scraped along the heel, cutting off a piece of the skin. He took out a small clear bag, and dropped it in, sealing in tight as he finished. He was about to move on to another mummy and take a sample when a noise caused him to jump to his feet. He reached for his gun but then grimaced, realizing that he was 'Randal' and not 'Bailey the FBI Agent'.
"Hey, you got it open pretty fast." Rick entered, munching on a donut. "Sure you've never done this before?"
Bailey stood up nervously. "Yeah. . ." He waited for Rick to turn his back then pocketed the bag.
"Alright, let's lift this baby and put 'em in the display case over there." Rick muttered, as he cut through the make-shift sarcophagus. "Okay. . ." Rick grunted. "This is where you come in."
"Oh." Bailey stated and both men slowly placed the mummy in the display case.
"Good work. Pretty strong there, buddy." Rick mentioned, and gave Bailey a small slap on his biceps. "Damn! I should just sit back and let you do all the lifting."
Bailey smiled and raised his eyebrow. "If I get double the pay. . ."
Rick let out a roar. "Ha! Now you're getting it!" He pointed towards the door. "The others have already loaded a few smaller items, let's tackle them."
Bailey nodded and followed him. He stopped and turned around quickly, glancing back at the mummy. Staring at it, he glanced at the other one that was placed there. A movement at the far end of the museum caught his eye, and 'Bailey the FBI Agent' kicked in. He turned to Rick and motioned him to keep quiet. He slowly began walking towards the other side, trying to keep the noise level minimal. He walked around a display case with a gold casket standing upright, but at the last second, he shifted his direction and headed the other way. He came face to face with a young man. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh. . . I . . . " The young man looked utterly terrified.
Bailey took a few steps back and turned to Rick. "This isn't my area . . . I'll go get Jim, okay?"
Rick nodded. "Okay." He watched Bailey leave and turned to the young man. "So, what's your name?"
"I didn't mean to sneak up, but the door was open and I couldn't find anybody, so I started looking at my new work environment and I didn't know I broke the rules -" The young guy started speaking quickly.
"Wait, what do you mean 'new work environment'?" Rick asked, perplexed.
"Oh, I'm Malcolm Hotz, the new employee for 'Shippers at Large'. . . didn't you get the memo?" He handed him a paper with all his credentials and his new S.A.L badge.
Rick looked towards the door and let out a defeated laugh. "That son of a bitch." He furrowed his brow. "Come with me." He told the young guy. "I'll show you around." He let Malcolm go out before him and turned to the empty museum hall. He nodded towards the darkness and exited. A few seconds later, the sound of a door closing echoed through the vacant room.
***
Comfort Inn, Brooklyn
Bailey wandered in to the hotel and scanned the lobby. It had been at least two hours since the team was supposed to meet up, and he felt bad for running out on them without letting on of his whereabouts. He walked up to the elevator and headed towards his room. He would fill in the others on his little 'expedition' later, right now the need to rest was overwhelming. Truth be told, he hadn't slept much the night before - the need to protect Sam was far too important than his strong desire to sleep. He had only allowed himself to venture into the unknown of Slumberland once the demon- filled night slowly crept to morn, and the bluish-hue of morning's light presented itself through the window. He opened the door to find Sam sitting on his bed, looking over some case files.
"Where on earth have you been?!" She demanded, obviously irritated.
Bailey put on his best puppy-dog look. "How did the meeting go?"
"I don't know . . . we were more worried about you." Sam replied getting up from his bed. "Where did you go?"
Bailey walked past Sam and collapsed face down on the bed. His muscles ached and he wanted to just curl up in his bed and sleep. "I went to the museum." Came a muffled reply.
Sam sat down beside her mentor. She placed a hand between his shoulder blades and gently rubbed his back. "You're tense, Bailey." She began kneading his shoulders with one hand.
Bailey moaned in response. "God Sam . . . you're wonderful." He sighed aloud.
Sam smiled and straddled the small of his back. She paused, taken aback by her boldness, smiled and began digging her fingers into his heavily muscled shoulders and back, working on the tension and knots. "Alright, a massage in exchange for information." She grinned.
"Hey. . . I don't take bribes." Bailey muttered.
Sam stopped abruptly. "Fine. . .I guess you'll have to deal with your tense muscles yourself." She began to get off his back.
"Okay, okay! I'll talk!" Bailey shouted melodramatically. "Just. . ." He motioned for her to continue massaging his back. He closed his eyes, breathing in to the bedspread. He could feel himself getting even more aroused as she straddled the small of his back once more. He felt relieved that he was lying on his belly, thus hiding his 'excited' state. Having her so close never felt so good. «She's with Coop. . .» He reminded himself, hurting immensely at the fact that they were just friends - nothing more.
Sam felt herself grow warm as she lowered herself on to his back. She yearned to let her hands venture under his shirt, feeling and groping his hot skin. She wanted to feel every inch of him with her hands, but she knew that the desire would evolve, leaving her begging to feel his naked body against hers. She wanted to be crushed in an embrace, surrounded by his incredible arms. She wanted to feel herself pressed against his hard chest. She wanted to feel . . . him. "So? Talk."
"Okay. . .that package you gave me this morning, had some credentials that I had asked George to send up. I had him do a little research, to give me a way to get into the museum."
Sam moved her hands slightly lower on his back. "What made you want to go back to the museum?" She felt him shrug.
"I don't know. . . I just thought that something wasn't right there. Just, things seemed to convenient, you know? Anyway, so George sent me the package saying that he hacked into the computer systems at the museum and found out that 'Shippers at Large' were the only delivery service for the Mummy Display at the Museum." Bailey exhaled as Sam hit a sensitive spot.
"Sorry, did I hurt you?" She pulled her hands away from his body, but the sensation still remained.
"Nah. . . feels really good, Sam." Bailey's voice seemed to melt off his tongue. "George also sent me an I.D. badge and uniform, along with a date and time when the next shipment would arrive. Unfortunately, the package arrived not a moment too soon, because the call for the new worker was in half an hour. That's why I didn't have time to let you guys know. . ." Bailey trailed off.
"Did you find anything?" Sam asked, eager to discover what her boss had learnt from his 'undercover' stint.
"Bailey?" A voice came from outside the door, followed by a couple of knocks.
Sam got off Bailey, but remained seated on the bed as she awaited her boss to answer the door.
Bailey froze: getting up would reveal his strong attraction to Sam and cause nothing but embarrassment at work. He didn't care about the mockeries that would probably arise at the office, it was the fear of Sam being disgusted with him that terrified him. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Sam, could you get that please?" He remained on his tummy.
Sam looked at him oddly, but thought nothing of it. "Sure, Bail." She opened the door and greeted Nathan and John.
Bailey remained in his position, but propped himself up on his elbows. He moved slightly, so that he was facing the agents. "What's wrong?"
The two agents walked in and stood at the foot of the bed, facing Bailey. "Well, we got worried when you didn't show up at the meeting. You didn't answer your cell or leave a note. . . so we told Sam to stay here and we went looking for you." Nathan said, sitting on a chair.
"Then we realized that it's freaking Brooklyn, and we would have sooner found the bloody needle in a haystack before we would find you." John added, taking a seat across from Nathan.
"Thanks for your concern, guys." He smiled at them. He glanced at Sam when she took a seat beside him on the bed. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her thigh rub against his leg. "So, let's have our meeting then." He replied shakily.
"Okay, Valerie Klunk is suspicious, I can give you that much. She had a motive to kill her father: he abused her and her mother way back when. Her mother was admitted to a psychiatric ward, and just recently passed away." Nathan said, opening a file. "Her mother passed away two years ago."
Bailey nodded. "Okay, so Klunk has a motive, but what's her drive to donate most if not all of the money to this fundraiser and excavation?"
"And why would she dispose of two others in the same manner, when all she needed was her father's life insurance?" Sam added, as an after-thought.
John shrugged. "Maybe the two others were witnesses?"
Bailey sighed. "It'll be hard to say, until we get some forensic evidence from Grace. I want to know what killed these men." Bailey looked at Nathan. "Good work. John?" He turned to the younger agent.
John squirmed in his seat. "See. . . I couldn't locate Keri Yule." He said slowly, looking down. When his eyes finally met Bailey's, he sped up his explanation. "I questioned most if not all of the people at the fundraiser, and no one saw her! I called her husband, and it appears that he failed to mention that he and Keri had been separated for two weeks. They had a huge argument and she moved in with one of her girlfriends." John shrugged. "The only thing he remembered was her mentioning the Mummy display."
Bailey nodded. "Now, Yule's husband - could he be a suspect?"
John shook his head. "I don't think so. . . unless we find a common ground as to why he would take out Klunk and Jones too."
"So, we're back to square one - they all have motives to kill one, but not to kill the others." Sam noted.
Nathan motioned to Sam and Bailey. "What did you guys find?"
Bailey spoke up. "Well, it appeared the Jones were very much loved by their neighborhood. No known enemies, did volunteer work and so on."
"But get this, Corey Jones volunteered as a 'Big Brother' type, for children with no parents and what-not." Sam interjected. "I stumbled across a picture in their living room."
"Yeah, if it wasn't for Sam's incredible eye for detail, we might have over- looked this connection." Bailey added, praising Sam.
Sam smiled. "It was a picture of Victoria Klunk."
"Are you sure?" John asked, thinking that it couldn't be that easy.
Sam nodded. "And Mrs. Jones confirmed it. She also mentioned that they had spoken two weeks prior and Corey had seemed rather upset after the phone call."
Bailey crossed his arms and leaned on them. "So Victoria Klunk is our number one suspect, with links to two of the victims."
John stood up and handed Bailey a file. "Correction, three of the victims." Bailey's questioning look prompted John to continue. "That girlfriend's house that Keri was supposedly staying at?" John let out a laugh. "Victoria Klunk."
Bailey shook his head. "I guess we got our leading suspect, though I don't want to rule out James Yule or even Sandra Jones. I want a close eye to be kept on them. . . they might make a move since the pressure is on."
"So, do we go arrest her now?" John asked, ready for action.
Nathan put his hands up. "Calm down, man. We don't have any evidence against her except these speculative ideas. It's all hear-say and she could walk away a free woman in court."
Bailey agreed. "Nathan's right, we have to wait until Grace gives us a some evidence from the lab before we can charge her with anything." Bailey checked his watch. "She's supposed to call this afternoon so we'll have to wait at least until then."
"I'm still troubled about her donations to the Museum. Is she that interested in Egyptian civilizations that she would kill just to donate?" Sam asked aloud.
"Maybe she thinks that the donating would spare her a trip to Hades." John remarked lamely.
"Are we sure that she killed just for the money? Or was it really because her father was abusive. And why kill Yule and Jones as well. Apparently Jones was her 'Big Brother' figure, and if she knew Keri, she obviously would have known Keri's brother." Bailey rubbed his tired eyes. "There's a physical connection, but what about a motivational connection."
All members fell silent. This conundrum, though at first seemed easy, was proving to be rather hard to certify its authenticity. Sam spoke up. "Bailey? You never finished telling me what you did at the Museum."
John and Nathan both sat up in their chairs. "Yeah, spill." Nathan coaxed him on.
"Okay, you know when you get these instincts? There was something fishy about the museum, and I wanted to see how the delivery was taken care of. I wanted to know who did it, when they did it and how they did it. Georgie sent me some papers, and I got in, posing as the new recruit. They showed me around and I observed that only one man knows the code to open and lock the doors, via the security system." Bailey took out a pen and paper. "His name was Rick. . ." He closed his eyes forcefully, trying to remember. ". . . Rick Sherbrook!" He noted it down. "Also, there was Jim Bosco, Tommy Hopps and Frank Smart." He wrote them down too. "They pick up all the deliveries at the cargo section of the airport, drive it back here, have a small breakfast and unload everything. They also told me that it's not a daily job - they're called a few days in advance whenever there's a shipment."
"So. . . did you find anything interesting?" Sam asked.
"I was with the Rick guy, and he instructed me to open a crate of a newly delivered Mummy. I opened it, and there was just this different air about it. So I took out my knife and scraped a piece of skin off the heel of the specimen."
"And?" John asked, excited.
"I sent it to Grace. . . hopefully she'll call me tomorrow with the results." Bailey responded.
"I know all we have right now are theories, but I think thanks to Bailey getting a sample and all the information we've gathered - I think we can solve this case." Sam said, in a positive manner.
Bailey checked his watch again. "It's about lunch time. . . what say we head out to a restaurant?" He asked the team.
Nathan and John seemed to have a guilty expression on their faces. "Uh. . . we already ate." John stuttered.
"Yeah, when we went looking for you, well, there were so many vendors on the street that we tried a few." Nathan added. "But you guys go ahead, John and I are going to go roam around a bit, maybe stop by the museum and see if we missed anything."
Bailey nodded. "Okay, sounds good." He watched the two agents leave. "Stay in touch." He called out after them. Turning to Sam, he smiled warmly. "I guess it's just you and me." Then, reality hit him like a sucker punch to the face. "Unless Coop wants to join us too." He couldn't help the venom leak out whenever he said his name.
Sam was about to tell him that her relationship with Coop was over, but something held her back. "He's not feeling very well, so I let him sleep." She lied. «Arg! Now why did I do that?» She leaned her head back on the headboard.
"Oh." Bailey said, delightfully surprised. "I saw a cozy little Italian restaurant on the way home. . . care to join me?" He got up and sat on the bed, facing away from Sam. "Uh, say we meet in the lobby in five minutes - I'm just going to freshen up." He waited for her to leave.
Sam smiled, but was perplexed as to why he wasn't looking her in the eye. «What's he hiding?» She watched him remain idly on the bed. "I'll wait for you here," she gave a quick pause thinking of a reason, "I, uh, don't want to wake up Coop." She felt more than she heard him sigh.
Bailey closed his eyes and assessed the situation. He knew she would see his state once he got up to go to the bathroom. "Okay. . ." He nodded. "I'm just going to take a quick shower," he laughed, "I'm sure my sweaty state isn't too pleasing."
Sam laughed in agreement, but truth be told, his musky smell seemed to ignite a fire deep within her. She longed to trail her tongue across his salty skin, run her hands through his damp hair, see his glistening body, feel their bodies slip against each other. She finally gathered her thoughts. "Okay, I'll watch some TV. . ."
Bailey took a deep breath, got up and walked briskly towards the bathroom. He stopped short when he heard her call his name and without thinking turned around to face her. "Yeah?" His eyes grew wide as he realized what he did, and turned back facing the door. He rolled his eyes at his 'discreet' manner. «Bravo.» He thought lamely to himself.
"Don't be long, I'm really hungry." She saw him nod and retreat into the bathroom. Sam let out the breath she was holding. She know understood his odd behaviour since the massage; he normally stood to greet people yet he remained on the bed, she had also felt him shiver when her thigh came into contact with his leg. He *was* hiding something. . . he was aroused. Sam's eyes glazed over, as the thought of her turning him on began to sink in. She didn't know how long she was daydreaming, but she was awakened by his soothing voice close to her ear. She looked at him, sitting down on the bed, beside her.
"Sam, you okay?" Bailey asked, caressing her face. Despite wanting to put a little distance between them, the recent fiasco almost cost him his best- friend, he couldn't keep his hands off of her.
Sam leaned into his touch, and smiled as his ice-cold hand melted into her skin. «A cold shower, Malone?» She smiled ruefully, though feeling alive to bring him to that state. "Yeah, I seem to have a habit of zoning out, huh?"
Bailey smiled and held out his hand. "You ready?"
"Definitely." She looked at his large, inviting hand, and enjoyed the sensation of her warm hand in his cold one. The two agents proceeded to the elevator and Sam promised herself that she would come clean with him today at lunch. She smiled inwardly, hoping that the reaction she would get from Bailey, would be the one she had been forever dreaming of.