Just a note, this is to give y'all an idea of what the case our favorite team are gonna be working on. Van, Billie & Deaq will be in the rest of the chapters.

Disclaimer: Not behind Fastlane & anything connected to it, if we were, Van& all the sexy guyswould take their shirts off more often!

PrEludE

They're gathered in circles

The lamps light their faces

The crescent moon rocks in the sky

The poets of drumming

Keep heartbeats suspended

The smoke swirls up and then dies

Would you like my mask?

Would you like my mirror?

Cries the man in the shadowing hood

You can look at yourself

You can look at each other

Or you can look at the face, the face of your god

Loreena McKennitt -'Marrakesh Night Market'

Soft romantic music played from another room as a young woman stood looking at her self in the bathroom, the shattered remains of a wineglass still dripping with red wine lay broken in the sink. Tears have caused her mascara to run down her face in black streaks over her blotchy cheeks, but she had stopped crying at that point, just stared at her refection numbly.

She was dressed to kill in a low cut black dress and sinful red lips but she had no where to go anymore, no one to woo and be wooed. In the dimly lit living room, there was another wineglass waiting to be filled by a half empty wine bottle and rose petals tossed carelessly over the couches and floor. A shadow moved across the table and blew out the candles that lined a table with crimson petals.

"What is wrong with me?" She murmured to herself and bowed her head down. The shadow appeared behind her and stood there, staring at her refection. Nothing could be seen of his face; it was hidden behind a mask that was divided down the middle, one side white and the other black.

She sighed and turned on the water and splashed some of it on her face and looked back up into the mirror. She saw her own face first, and then the shadow moved and caught her attention. She whirled around, screaming but he quickly grabbed her and covered her mouth, shoving her back against the sink and curving her backwards.

"Hello my dear." He hoarsely whispered in her ear as he held her tightly against himself. "You shouldn't be alone after such a heartbreaking experience." She trembled, her eyes wide with fear as he pulled back to look her in the eyes. She jerked as he ran a hand down the side of her face.

"Just say the word and I'll make the pain go away."

"Oh please!"

"Today, the police have discovered the body of Samantha Reed in her apartment..." The newscaster's voice spoke from the TV as a young woman rushed by it into the bedroom half dressed.

"Oh!" she cried out when she tripped over the clothes that she had tossed all over her room and fell to the bed. "Damn it!" She swore as she saw that one of the straps on her shoes had broken. She kicked off the stilettos she was wearing and dove into her closet for a different pair and shoved her arms through the straps of her dress and pulled it up. With a quick smooth down of her skirt, she sat down in front of her vanity mirror, fluffed up her short blonde bob and quickly, but carefully applied her makeup.

"Ha ha, you look so silly!" Another woman crossed her arms; she was the complete opposite of the woman primping, she had messy, almost frizzy black hair and dressed in an old tee and torn jeans.

"Don't whine at me, Roxie, when I have a good time tonight and you sit in front of the TV moaning about how you hadn't had a good romp!" She tossed back over her shoulder as she picked up an eyeliner pencil. Roxie just laughed and tossed herself onto her roommate's bed and crossed her ankles as she propped her chin on a hand.

"I love watching you get ready, it's like a sitcom with you!" Roxie teased. "But there is that sense of anticipation that is so exciting."

"It's called 'sex', Honey; you've might've heard of it." She bantered back and stood up with a quick twirl. "How do I look?"

"Lena, you look like a dream. If he doesn't look completely in lust with you, drop 'im!" Roxie said, slashing her hand downward with emphasis of her last words with a crooked smile.

"Cute, don't stay up for me, I just might not make it back before the sun!" Lena said with a wave as she picked up a small matching purse and her cell and dashed out the door. Roxie smiled as she rolled over on her back and crossed her arms behind her head, staring up at the pictures that Lena had put up all over the ceiling.

Somebody knocked at the door to their apartment the next morning, as Roxie was still in her pajamas cooking pancakes in the kitchen. She looked up and grinned, she was a little surprised that Lena was knocking, but it was nothing new, she tend to forget her keys now and then. But she was surprised that she was back so soon, she hadn't expected to see her until the afternoon. There must be trouble in paradise.

There was music playing in the background as she quickly flipped the pancake over and walked to the door, brushing her hands off on her jockey shorts, dancing for a moment when her favorite part of the song came on, and singing along with it.

"I'm coming!" She called out as somebody knocked again. "Geeze, don't get your kickers in a twist!" She said with a wry grin as she undid the deadbolt and unlocked the door. She pulled it open with a flourish and leaned against the jam before she noticed that it wasn't her roommate standing there.

"Oh!" she jumped and slammed the door shut and leaned against it panting, pulse racing. "Shit! They must they think I'm a complete fool!" She lamented as she looked down at herself and realized that she was still in her pajamas too. "Shit!" She grabbed a blanket that was draped over a chair and wrapped it around her before opening the door again cautiously.

"Sorry, I thought you guys were my roomie, can I help you?" She asked peering at them from behind the door. There were two cops standing there, one a man and the other a woman. They looked at each other briefly before the woman stepped forward.

"Do you mind if we come in? We need to talk to you about Lena Holmes." She asked, her face was remorseful at what she knew what she was going to have to say.

"Wha-what about L-lena?" Roxie's voice wavered and she stepped back away from the door. "Please tell me she's just beaten up or something."

"I'm sorry." The male cop said, fingering his hat. "We found her this morning in an alley not far from a popular club."

"No!" she wailed and her knees became weak, the female cop moved forward quickly and caught her and carefully helped her settle down on the ground. She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders and nodded towards the kitchen. Her partner nodded back and went to turn off the burner where the pancake was starting to smoke. He didn't bother turning around, just stood there listening to the sobs.

"No, please... Oh, please not Lena. LENA!"

That night, Roxie was still in her pajamas from the morning and she was sitting on her couch wrapped up in a soft blanket as she stared at the TV. There was a cloud of Kleenexes all over the floor and couch and a couple of empty boxes. Nothing on TV was registering to her numbed mind; she was deep inside of herself thinking about the times she spent with Lena.

"Oh!" She wailed suddenly and threw the box at the TV where it bounced off harmlessly. She grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels furiously until a picture of her late roommate caught her attention.

"Wait! What was that?" She complained to the newscaster as he moved onto a new subject. "You bastard, tell me what you said about my friend!" She pointed the remote and started hitting the button again until she threw the remote at the wall in a rage. She started crying again, she knew that Lena had been murdered, but she never thought about why or how until she saw that.

"Oh, what happened to you, Lena?" She asked brokenly and stood up and turned around. She slowly made her way to Lena's room, but hesitated before the door. A trembling hand rose up and she grasped the doorknob and opened it. She sobbed, but still pressed on into the room until she was standing in the middle of the room.

"Why'd you leave me alone? You promised that we'll become those old biddies who just sit around and talk about our husbands and neighborhood." She asked into the quiet room. "Why'd you die?"

"Lena died of a broken heart, my dear." A hoarse whisper just besides her ear made her jerk and she twisted around, falling backwards. Strong hands grabbed her arms and a large body shoved against her, pushing her further off balance and they fell together onto Lena's bed. She stared in horror at the mask and the dark eyes that stared into her own just several inches away as he pinned her down.

"Wha-what do you want from me?" She asked her breathing fast and panicky, twisting her arms but couldn't escape his iron grasp.

"Nothing from you." He whispered to her, and trailed a gloved finger down the side of her face, tracing along the curve of her jaw, her hands trapped under his other hand that was like a steel vice. He tilted his head slightly and leaned in closer.

"But I will warn you since the last thing Lena said was 'What about Roxie?'." He paused as she sobbed out loud and rested his hand on her neck, leaning back.

"As a favor to my ninth Queen of Hearts, I will tell you this." She gasped as he moved his hand downward to rest over her heart. "Do not allow this pretty little heart be broken." He told her in that harsh voice and tapped her breastbone with a finger. "Or I'll be back to carve it out and keep it safe with the other broken hearts."

"Ah-!" Roxie gasped faintly and closed her eyes tightly in hopes that he'll disappear like a bad dream. She didn't move as she felt his weight move off of her, instead she lay there frozen in fear until she finally mustered up enough courage to open her eyes to see the pictures on the ceiling and one that she had never seen before was added. There among the happy pictures was a picture of Lena laying dead on the street, her lifeless eyes staring right down at her.

"AHHHH!"