Author's Note: Bonjour, mes amies! What can I say to make up for the unintended hiatus? Nothing, honestly. There is no excuse. All I can do is apologize, and admit that I was creatively dead. Until today, when- quite suddenly- inspiration tapped me on the noggin and I felt compelled to come back to these characters.
I hope you enjoy! And I promise to never make you wait so long again…
Previously on The Facts Are These: Season 3...Chuck made friends in high places (get it? because they met on a plane?!), Olive received an offer she might not refuse, Ned freaked out about it, and Emerson discovered something…odd about Godfrey Gillard.
Chapter 12: Ghosts of Christmas Yet to Come (partie une)
"Going somewhere?"
Chuck stopped as if commanded by remote control. With a sigh, she pivoted on one kitten heel and pressed back against the door. The Alive Again Adventurer had hoped that having her own room would allow her the freedom to come and go as she pleased (or at least sneak out undetected). But it seemed that what Lily Charles lacked in optical clarity, she made up for in aural capacity.
For no sooner had Chuck's door creaked open than her guardians' cracked ajar behind her…
"Well?"
The lie leaned off her tongue like a diver off a springboard. At that very moment she felt fifteen again- an age when her guardians refused to let her attend any party not chaperoned by an adult. Thanks to their agoraphobia, this meant she could never attend parties. Not the important, parent-free ones at least…
But that was then and this was now. Charlotte Charles had become a proper grownup, with a new lease on life. Quite literally…
"I am going out," she declared, defiantly independent.
A heartbeat of silence passed, before Lily gave her the once-over and said: "In those shoes?"
Chuck deflated abruptly. "That's it? No further questions? No: where you going and who you going with and how much are you gonna be drinking 'cause you already look a little tipsy, kiddo?"
Lily chuckled. "I'm trying out this thing where I trust your judgment. Besides, there's only so much trouble you can get into here…
And while that would have been true for any normal girl, Charlotte Charles was quite the opposite of normal.
Which she would soon be reminded of as she ambled down a cobbled street with Gwen and Eugene, blissfully unaware of the shadowy figure following them…
XXX
At that very moment it occurred to Ned that he had not attended to the beloved bees of his departed paramour in days. With a yelp, he leapt out of bed and into his beekeeping suit, before rushing up to the rooftop. There he found them as he had left them: going about their business, more or less oblivious to his existence.
"Sorry, guys," he apologized, out of politeness. "I've been…busy."
Since overcoming the creepy-crawly feelings the bees once gave him, Ned had begun to enjoy spending time in this apiarist palace. With the smell of sunflowers hanging heavy on the air, and the sound of the colony droning consistently, he felt very zen. Content even…
Chuck could not be there to take care of her pets, but he would offer them the same affection that he showed Digby. Though he could touch none of them…
"'Sup, pie guy!" Ned started a little, rotating in his suit to find Olive behind him. "You trying on a new uniform? Some kinda full-body apron?"
"It's for the bees."
"And my jokes are for the birds," she quipped, nudging him as she passed. While Olive took a moment to explore the hives, his mind wandered to the note Randy Mann had left her. Come find me in Eden Prairie…
The Pie Maker wondered if today was the day to make his own offer…
"So…I gotta go," said Olive, before he could decide. "I know it's short notice, but there's an errand needs runnin' and it is muy importante."
Ned hesitated, unsure if he should be okay with this. Not that Olive was undeserving of a morning off. It was just that he didn't understand what could be so urgent…
"No problemo," he said, despite the nervous energy already rushing back into his body…
Olive had at least picked a good morning to play hooky. On weekends, the Pie Hole would not be besieged by its usual crowd of rush hour customers. Indeed, when he opened the doors only one man stood on the other side of them.
"Hi there," Ned said. "Welcome to the Pie Hole."
"You're late," the man muttered. He seemed to take up the entire doorway as he entered, all broad shoulders and barrel chest and pinstripe suit. The white streaks in his hair gave him a skunk-like appearance, but he smelled of cheap cologne.
"Sign says 0700 hours. It is two minutes past. Do you not consider punctuality important in your line of work?
"Oh- no. I mean…yes, of course. I'm so sorry."
Over the years Ned had met his fair share of malcontents, and he now knew how to deal with them…by hiding behind Olive. But she was not here- a fact that distressed him for several reasons.
"Free coffee?" he offered obligingly.
Grunting his assent, the man took a seat at the counter and placed a newspaper in front of him. The Pie Maker sighed. Counter customers were often the most particular. They complained about the size of their pie slice, the number of sugar cubes in their coffee, the height of their seats...
"Would you like to try to today's special? It's-"
"No."
"…okay. I could get you a menu…?"
"Just the coffee."
Ned frowned and set about serving Mr. White Stripe without another word. As he put down his cup (no milk, no sugar, no joy) and started to turn away, he heard the man murmur:
"Strange turn of events."
"…excuse me?"
"These deaths…" He was looking at the newspaper, still placed in front of him. Ned tilted his head to read it from his side of the counter…
DEADLY DOZEN CAUSE OF DEATH STILL UNDETERMINED
The Pie Maker stared, his mind not registering what he was reading. He had tried very hard not to dwell on the deaths of the Poppy Temple People. After all, he had only been responsible for one: Terry Marlowe, the cult leader who shuffled eleven followers off their mortal coil. Who would have stolen all they possessed if random proximity had not struck…
Those were the facts. He was a cause of death…
"How d'you explain a thing like that?" Ned looked up into the beady black eyes before him, empty and expectant as tunnels.
"Well…cyanide. Apparently they were all in some sort of suicide pact…"
"Yes. Except nobody drank the Kool-Aid."
"…I don't understand."
"Well, didn't you read the coroner's report?" He sounded almost impatient, like a schoolmaster scolding a lazy student. "It's been all over the news."
The news that Olive and Emerson had gone out of their way to make sure he didn't see, or hear, or read…
"I…" Ned tried to swallow and found his throat quite dry.
"A dozen people drop dead, all at once, for no apparent reason. How d'you explain a thing like that?"
"…I have no idea."
But that was not entirely true. He had an inkling. And it involved the twelve dead bodies currently residing in the morgue…
XXX
Though he would never admit it (and later come to regret it), Emerson Cod was not ready to share the truths he had unearthed. Not just yet. Of course, Ned would need to know sooner than later, but first they needed facts. And a plan of attack…
For if the PI could be rattled by the revelation that "Godfrey Gillard" was a dead man walking, then the Pie Maker- with his soft doughy heart- would most likely react by curling up in an oven and refusing to touch anything ever again…
"This Clancy Treadwell died before Ned was even born," said Itty Bitty, "so who brought him back? How did they bring him back? Does this mean someone else can do the Lazarus thing?"
"That's what I called you to help me figure out."
The diminutive detective stared at him for a second, surely piecing together some unique insight… "He faked his death!"
Emerson rolled his eyes and handed her a folder thick with various bits of paper. "The man died as surely as Undead Girl did. Dwight shot him in the chest, 30 years ago, and he hasn't aged a day. Only thing that changed about him is his name."
"But what about his daughter? He came here wanting to find out what happened to her. How she really died."
"He lied. Gloria was an orphan. Her parents snuffed it when she was fourteen..."
Itty Bitty frowned, poring over the information at hand. Cod could almost see the gears turning in her mind, but his own seemed to have rusted. Privately, the PI was starting to think that this particular mystery was above his paygrade…
When he first stumbled upon the pie-making dead-waker, he never thought of his gift as more than a profitable (and perhaps paranormal) mutation. Maybe there were mind-readers out there somewhere, or teleporters, or vampires…he did not know or care because he could not see them with his own eyes.
But now his knowledge was expanding dangerously, rippling out to cover cult members and zombie doctors and other dead-wakers. It made him antsy, knowing how much he did not know…
"If Treadwell was brought back by someone like Ned," said Olive, "he probably knows about random proximity. I mean, maybe somebody died in his place."
Emerson nodded along, slumping under the weight of fatigue.
"When you met he said somebody told him that you were the only one who could help…"
She looked up from the picture slowly, and something in her emerald eyes startled the PI.
"Where was he a doctor?"
"Obit said he worked for the military; he's been all over the place. Europe and the Middle East and...North Africa..."
"Which includes Egypt. Maybe that's where he met Dwight. And Ned and Chuck's dads."
At that Emerson sat up straight, feeling her words grease the wheels of his thought process.
"Sonnuva bitch might even have slipped me their picture. Probably just wanted me to lead him to Dwight. Or Doughboy..."
Olive jumped up as if she had been stung. "We gotta get to the Pie Hole!" Emerson had barely put his coat on before she made it out the door…
Their cab was quick, but not quite quick enough. For when they arrived they found that the Pie Maker had closed up shop. He could not have served many customers before abandoning his post, as there was but one empty cup on the counter. Along with a newspaper…
Itty Bitty picked it up, groaned and handed it to Emerson. It seemed that there would be no need to tell Ned what really happened.
He found out all on his own.
A/N: The facts, so far are these...Dwight Dixon, Charles Charles, and Ned's dad were Blue Berets back in the day. They each had three watches. After burgling Lily and Vivian, Dwight now has two of them. What he wants with them remains a mystery…
Meanwhile, Emerson found out that Godfrey Gillard is actually a dead dude named Clancy Treadwell. And Dwight killed him. Why he did it remains a mystery, but not for long...