Hohenbruck Army Base

Day 5

12:30 hrs, Friday

"What have you all been doing the last four days? Would someone like to tell me?" Frost's low tone bellied her irritation.

Jo looked up a moment from her desk. Everyone had perfected the innocent, distant expression. Bruce was nowhere to be seen. He would be in for it when Frost noticed.

"Where is Sgt. Hornsby?"

"Checking something, ma'am." Charlie put in. Frost stared at him.

"Did I or did I not say that there was going to be a briefing at twelve?" She barked.

"Yes, ma'am, but he thought it was important." Charlie held his ground.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What is he checking?" She growled.

Jo lowered her head back to the catalog of forensic evidence of closed cases. She was going to need to get glasses if she kept this up, provided she could even manage to stay in the army.

"The paint."

"The paint?" Jo glanced over to see Frost's eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "Did I or did I not tell him to concentrate on going through the barracks?"

"You did, ma'am."

"Then why is he not doing what I told him to do?" Charlie stood there quietly. Frost whirled around. "This section is sorely lacking any semblance of professionalism." She stalked around the room.

Jo watched her warily as she came closer and closer.

"I will not have my section behaving as if they're a bunch schoolboys." Jo mued her lips at that. It was proof positive that Frost was serious about not allowing Jo back on the team. "Another attack took place last night. Three visiting officers have been brutally attacked on this base. What do we have?"

A silent pawl slide over the office.

"Well?"

No one spoke.

"This is unacceptable." Jo jumped in her chair at the bellow.

"Right, got it!" Bruce came barrelling into the office.

Jo suppressed a smile as he blew past Frost, nearly toppling her. He pressed a picture up on the board, turning to face everyone with a self-satisfied expression.

"What?" He asked when he saw everyone staring at him.

"Did you find something?" Charlie finally asked. Bruce beamed.

"I checked with Mr. Forney. The paint was spray paint, Krylon spray paint to be exact. In pansy pink, which is more purple than pink, actually…"

"Bruce." Charlie cut him off.

"Right, yeah, I checked out the local stores that carry that brand."

"What?" Frost's voice cracked in its shrillness.

"Twelve cans of pansy pink spray paint purchased by Lance Corporal William Adair last Saturday night."

"And?" Frost snapped.

"What?"

"This corporal might have been redecorating his bed stand for all you know."

"Well, ma'am, it turns out that Adair works at the QM." He waited a beat. "He coordinates the arrangements for the visiting officers."

"Oh. Well." Charlie turned away from Frost. Jo could see the smirk on his face.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths as Frost stared at the back wall.

"Bring him in." She stalked into her office, slamming the door.

Lance Corporal William Adair turned out to be a lanky, thin haired youngster, who looked as if he might wet his trousers at any moment. Haith pulled the lad from Bruce's large paw.

"Would you look at that?" Bruce grumped, perching his frame on the edge of Jo's desk. "I do all the work. Those two take all the credit."

"That's life, old boy." Charlie consoled him. "What are you doing?" Jo shrugged.

"Getting ready to move evidence from closed cases to the warehouse," she said without looking up.

"Exciting stuff." He mused.

"I'm not going to sit around here and let them get away with this." Bruce growled.

"What are you going to do?" Charlie asked. Bruce was all ready to the door.

"Come along if you like." He yelled over his shoulder.

Jo had just returned from the warehouse. She tried to brush the dust off, sneezing at the effort. She looked up when Bruce pushed another young soldier into the office.

"Sit. There." The boy sat on command. "Hey," he nodded at her, "are they still in there?"

"Yeah." Jo looked over her shoulder toward the interview room.

Mr. Vicary came in carrying evidence bags, dropping them on Jo's desk.

"Don't mix them up with the closed cases." Jo snapped at him, shoving them back at him. Vicary stared at her, in fright, turning even whiter than normal.

"I'm sorry." Vicary whispered.

She stacked the old bags of evidence in a box on the floor, taping it up.

"Excuse me, sir." Jo brushed past him, heading out the back.

The basement evidence locker was blissfully deserted. Jo blew an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. With her hair shorter, it would not reach behind her ear, constantly irritating her. She set the box down on the floor, sitting down on top of it. She rubbed her throbbing forehead.

The silence nearly deafened her, throbbing in her ears. She blew out a breath, trying to push back the nausea that always came with the headaches. Closing her eyes only made it worse. She lost her balance, reaching out to grasp the shelf. A cold sweat seared over her skin. She tried to control her breathing. It did not help.

Finally she pulled the bottle of pills from her pocket. She could barely open the bottle. The pills spilled over the floor as she jerked it open. She rescued two of the pills, throwing them down her throat.

Nothing happened.

Jo tightened her grip on the shelf, willing the pain to go away. Whether it was the pills or the breathing that did it, gradually the pain reeled back, not completely leaving but allowing her to stand on her feet again. She teetered for a moment then stood straight. She took another few deep breaths before lifting the box up to the shelves and headed back upstairs.

Frost's door slammed shut as Jo came through the back door of the offices. Jo sat down at her desk while Bruce stood by the board preening.

"We got them." Charlie whispered to her. Jo frowned but did not say anything. "Frost couldn't get Adair to talk but Bruce brought in his barracks mate who sang like a pigeon."

"Really." Jo murmured.

"I guess the two of them got tired of servanting around the higher ups and decided to make the officers do a little servanting of their own. Found the cans of paint in their barracks."

"Great."

"Want to celebrate?" Bruce asked. Jo shook her head. "Oh, come on, you deserve a drop or two. You've been slaving away all week."

"No." She straightened up her desk.

"What are you going to do? Hide yourself away at the range?" Jo looked up quickly.

"What?"

"You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to take a break." Bruce looked concerned. Jo waved him away.

"Not today, Bruce. I'm tired." She was not lying, either.