Thank you, monkaholic and Jesus freak 17 ½, for reviewing! If it weren't for you guys I would not have updated this so soon! (Subtle hint to others as well)


I race after Monk, meeting a firefighter at the door, who apparently hadn't noticedthe detectiverunning in. "You'll have to put this on, ma'am, if you want to enter the building."

I scoff. "You just let someone walk by without giving them a mask. Someone who... actually needs one." As I take the mask and lower it over my head, I glance towards the stairwell for Monk, but he is nowhere to be seen.

Upon reaching the base of the stairs, I see that Monk is standing at the very top, looking confused as to where to go. I begin to ascend the stairs, which groan and creak, and he averts his gaze towards me. I wave timidly as he proceeds to back away from the stairs, further into the second story. I then realize I'm wearing the gas mask, and figure he has forgotten what I look like, or something like that.

"Mr. Monk, don't be scared; it's just me, Natalie."

I can see half of his face appear, and he lets out a sigh of relief in the form of a cloud of soot. Shocked, he coughs and gags several times after realizing what he's inhaled. I just have to get him to wear that gas mask.

Once I reach the second floor, I remove the contraption and hold it out for Monk to take. "You need to wear this," I state casually, trying not to sound too insistent.

"Wh—I can't put that on," he whines, backing away. "The firefighters… and you… just had that over your faces, getting germs all over the inside…." He puts his hands up in front of him. "I'm sorry, Natalie, I'm not goi—"

I move towards him as if trying to corner him. "Yes you are going to wear it; you're breathing soot, for God's sake. Do you want all that material to build up in your lungs?"

"Ac-actually, it was very, very hot in here less than—" –he checks his watch for assurance of the time— "—20 minutes ago, so the germs have to be dead on them."

I can't help but laugh at his childishness. "Do you have any idea how naïve you sound right now? Is there some kind of… 30-minute rule for germs or something? Have you seen hydrant water?"

"Uhmmm… It's still… too hot for them to… establish themselves again…." He has the psyche of a child.

I reach out hastily for his arm, and drop the chin strap of the mask over his wrist. "Wh-what do you think you're doing?" he cries. He allows for the contraption to fall to the floor, and begins scrubbing his wrists feverishly on his pant legs. "Oh, God, they're all over me now…."

"Monk, Natalie, the body's over here!" Captain Stottlemeyer exclaims from inside a room with a burnt-out door.

The curly-haired man in front of me makes a complete turn to trace the direction of the Captain's voice. "Where?" he questions.

I grab both of his shoulders and lead him towards the room where Stottlemeyer is calling from. Monk stops abruptly after a few steps, and looks back at me.

"Is that –" he notices the gas mask still lying on the floor – "Are you just going to leave that there? It doesn't belong there, someone's going to trip." I can then hear him say under his breath, "I probably will…."

I continue pushing Mr. Monk into the room where the body is lying on the floor, now reduced to white bones amidst dust and thick piles of ash. A slight smell of fossil fuel is in the air, but maybe it's just the diesel from the fire engines. I cover my nose to keep from sneezing, for I can see the ashes floating around in the air. The captain has removed his gas mask, which is now dangling around his neck.

Pulling his jacket over his nose and mouth, Monk squats down next to the body. He remains there for a time, studying the skeleton as Stottlemeyer observes quietly.

"So, whaddya think, Monk? Is it a suicide?" It's been a couple of minutes and already the captain is getting jumpy.

He stands up and looks at Stottlemeyer solemnly. "The-the bones, Captain," he begins to explain. "They hardly burned at all in the fire; they're pure white. And… how odd…. The skeleton… is holding a key."

"Ha ha, skeleton key," I manage to blurt out hollowly, finding the humor of the correlation of his words. Monk and Stottlemeyer roll their eyes in unison.

"Your point, Monk?" Stottlemeyer seems bored. By the look on Monk's face, he decides to at least attempt to scientifically explain this occurrence. "Bones don't really burn well; you oughta know that already."

Monk rises to his feet and shakes his head at Stottlemeyer. It is then that I notice a fireproof box sitting against the wall, and wonder how this had been overlooked.

"Look at the—" I start to say while pointing, but the captain cuts me off.

"Yeah, pretty strange to find a fireproof box intact after a fire." He is laughing at me with his eyes.

I can feel the fire building up inside me, as the insult hits home. "I'm getting a little fed up with your demeaning me every time I—"

It is then that Monk walks over to the box, lowering to one knee next to it. He pulls a dry wipe out of his coat pocket, and attempts to lift the lid of the box. It is locked. "Strange," he says, and stands back up. "Why is it lo—"

With sudden revelation, he walks back over to the body, and stares down at the key. Instead of grabbing the key from the corpse's hand though, he continues to stare, and then crosses back over to the fireproof box. With a dry wipe in hand, he lowers back down and touches the key hole on the front of the box lightly. The captain and I stare at his mini epiphany as he crosses back over to the skeleton's hand.

"This person was murdered," he states simply.


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