"I have been analyzing the blow fly larvae," Bug said, making his way through the forensic evidence lab with Jordan. "That fact that there are larvae is inconsistent with the normal behaviour of blow flies. We shouldn't see these for at least 2 days after death."

They stopped at a bench laden with jars of insects and a microscope. "They were present in either the stomach or intestinal tracts of our victims," Bug explained while preparing a slide and slipping it under the scope. "But there were no signs of entry. We would have seen further decomposition." He stepped back from the bench to give Jordan full view of the slide. "So, I decided to look at this a bit differently."

"What am I seeing here, Bug?" Jordan asked, staring at the long white cross-section of something that made her skin crawl.

"It's one of the blow fly larvae that we removed from Mr. Steven's intestine," he said, leaning into the bench. "As larvae eat their way through flesh, they tend to absorb whatever is in the body. So, if the victim is polluted with a toxin, then the larva is likely contaminated as well."

Jordan turned to Bug, a grin on her face. "What did you find?"

He matched her smile and crossed the room to a nearby printer, grabbing a few sheets of paper. "The tox screen revealed high levels of polyacetal resin."

"Formaldehyde? From what?" Jordan looked incredulously at her colleague. "None of these people have been through that process and nothing appeared on their tox screens."

Bug's grin grew larger. "Which means the larvae must have been present in bodies that were already embalmed," he explained, his voice full of suggestion.

"And then ended up in the stomachs of our five victims." Jordan shook her head. "But how?"

Bug's eyebrows raised in anticipation as Jordan's face fell in realization. "They ate them?"

"Or at least something that was already infested with the larvae."

"Some thing that had been prepared for burial," Jordan sighed. "Five people, all from the same care home. All have eaten something containing these larvae." She made her way to the door. "I think we need to see what's on the menu this evening at South Boston Seniors Home."

XXXXX

"You're screwing with me, right?" Woody whispered harshly to Jordan as they sat in the waiting area of the South Boston Seniors Care Home. "Maybe they just ate some bad food."

"Damn right it was bad food," Jordan concurred. "That just happened to be embalmed before serving."

Woody turned to look at Jordan, straight in the eye. "So, what you're telling me is that these people have been eating… well, people?" Woody's face contorted in disgust.

"Soylent Green, my dear Woody," Jordan said in her best Charlton Heston voice.

"I think I'm going to throw up." Woody turned away, his back to Jordan.

"Hey, didn't you once tell me that you have no ethical issues about eating human flesh?" Jordan questioned, thoroughly amused.

He whirled around. "That was out of desperation," Woody defended. "And only then."

"Dr. Cavanaugh, I presume," a man said, suddenly appearing in front of them. "I'm Dr. Kitchmen. What can I do for you today?"

Jordan and Woody stood to greet the director. "Dr. Kitchmen, this is Detective Hoyt with the Boston P.D. We just have a few questions regarding the deaths of your five residents."

"Oh, of course," the man said, perkiness in his voice. "Why don't we just go to my office?" He directed them down a long hallway, the white walls almost blinding. "It's just down here."

Jordan and Woody followed at a reasonable distance, ensuring the confidentiality of their conversation. "So, what are you going to say to this guy?" Woody asked. "Excuse me, Sir. Do you happen to have roasted Mr. Smith on the menu this evening?"

"Served with a delightful orange sauce, tastes just like chicken," Jordan finished as they stepped into an extravagant office. Jordan took a look around the room, noting the Oriental rug on the floor and the Ming vase displayed on the wall before taking a seat in a large leather back chair. "The care home must be doing very well for itself," she commented, staring hard at the director. "You have very expensive taste." She nodded towards the large mahogany desk that sat between them.

"Well, I don't know if you would call us lucrative but with the funeral home attached, we don't do too badly," the doctor said, a sweet smiled on his lips.

Jordan looked knowingly at Woody, who merely sunk deeper into his chair, swallowing back the urge from his stomach. He was going to have to leave this one up to Jordan.

XXXXX

"So, from the looks of things, the victims consumed the same substance that contained the green bottle flies," Bug explained to Nigel and Lily as they sat around the break room, Chinese food boxes covering the table.

"Substance?" Lily asked, picking at her chow mein noodles.

"Probably human flesh," Bug answered, rather nonchalantly.

"Oh, come on!" Lily exclaimed, throwing her chopsticks down in disgust.

"You gonna finish that, Luv?" Nigel asked, reaching for the box. Lily shook her head, pushing the unfinished food towards him and slightly turning green.

"What?" Bug chuckled at her reaction. "You asked."

"Yeah," Lily laughed in spite of herself, "But you didn't have to tell me."

"Mahesh, there you are," a familiar female voice called from the door.

Bug whipped around to see his mother and father standing there, déjà vu once again.

"When you told us you were working late tonight, we thought you would be missing dinner," Kanchana accused.

Bug stood, making his way to the door, his body language apologetic. "Well, we just decided to take a break and ordered in," he explained, trying to appease his mother.

"But we already had dinner plans made," Vikram said, "With Tushar's daughter."

"Dad," Bug pleaded, knowing this was going to turn into another round of the matchmaking game.

"She's waiting for you in the hallway," Kanchana indicated through the large window towards a stunning young Indian woman standing near the elevator.

"Wow," Nigel's whisper could be heard in the background before Lily elbowed him in the ribs.

"You remember Neha, don't you Heshy?" his mother asked, smiling as interest grew on her son's face. "You two used to play together back home."

"She's definitely changed," Bug replied, moving closer to the window.

"Mahesh, go talk to the girl," Vikram urged. "She came to see you."

Bug turned around to look at Nigel and Lily, a little uncertain but very impressed with what his parents had brought to dinner.

"Go on," Nigel insisted, practically pushing Bug into the hall.

Bug shrugged and nodded his compliance with the situation. He followed his parents out the door to meet the dish outside.

Lily glared at Nigel, shaking her head in disgust. "This is crazy," she said pointing out the window to where introductions were being made.

A grin appeared on Nigel's face. "Lily dear, do I sense a hint of jealousy?"

Lily glowered, shaking off the comment. "I respect the East Indian traditions but they are forcing him to like a girl he doesn't even know."

"They are just introducing them," Nigel argued, turning towards the window, "And I must say, they made a damn good choice."

"But their motives are entirely selfish. They have been driving him crazy with all the marriage talk," Lily reasoned, plopping herself back down into the couch. "I just think that Bug should get into a relationship with someone he chooses; someone he cares about."

Nigel picked up a box of egg foo young and looked gently at Lily before stepping from the room. "And just who do you think that is, Luv?"