Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: See, I said there would be more - and we are back in Chicago as well. Will Ben manage to figure it all out and, if he does, how long will it take him? If you are reading this, then I hope you are enjoying the story so far :-)

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18 Months Later

"Hey Benny," Ray Vecchio entered the office where his best friend was sat, diligently filling out paperwork.

"Hello Ray. How are you?"

"I'm good Benny, you up for lunch?"

Fraser put down the pen. "Well, technically Ray, I'm seated, but I should I stand up, I could well be 'up for lunch' as you say."

Ray sighed, Benton Fraser really was the most exasperating person he had ever known.

"Alright, let's go then."

Fraser grabbed his hat as he left the Consulate with Ray, walking towards the Buick Riviera that was illegally parked out front. They drove to a local diner, which was popular, but no too over-crowded at lunch times.

"Ray, I was wondering if you managed to get that information I asked about?"

"Sure thing Benny, but you wanna tell me what this is about? You Canucks got something going on? Not planning an invasion are you?" Ray joked.

"No Ray." Fraser's tone took on a hint of something Ray couldn't place, but he knew the only other times he had heard that in his friend's voice.

"This isn't about Thatcher again, is it?" When Fraser refused to answer, Ray knew he had his answer.

"Come on Benny. The RCMP closed the case on that. I'm sorry she died, I really am, but this obsession is not healthy."

"Thank you for your concern, Ray, but I am an adult and I can look after myself. I'll understand if you could not get the information I requested."

"I didn't say I didn't get it Benny, I was just wondering why you wanted it."

"It's not important, Ray."

Ray looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. Every time he asked about her, Fraser would get defensive, claim it was nothing, and Ray could not get anything out of him for the rest of the meal.

"OK, I'll drop it, for now, but you need to move on Benny. She's dead and she's not coming back."

"I know." Fraser looked down to his lunch, knowing Ray was right, maybe not about her being dead, but certainly about her not coming back.

Any further talk during the meal was directed firmly at small talk – how the Bulls were playing this season, the cases Ray was working on at the moment, the weather – anything but Meg Thatcher.

When Ray had dropped him back at the Consulate, Fraser made his way into his office. Closing the door firmly behind him, he pulled out the file that Ray had given him. It contained information on one Marcus Richards, Jenna's father, and his business dealings around the time of her death. As much as he did not want to involve Ray in this, Fraser knew if he started digging around in the case too much, he would only put himself at the focus of anyone who was still watching. From what Meg had told him, he knew they were not worried about killing anyone they thought might be getting too close to them. All he had to figure out now was who 'they' were.

He'd made sure Ray had used a contact, nothing official that could be traced back to him or the department. The information was good too, it contained details a company named 'Maxwell Developments'. Fraser had managed to acquire details of all of Marcus's business associates and dealings for a significant time before and after his daughter's death. Meg had said Jenna had come across the information whilst working for her father, so he was relying on that link to try to connect the dots of this case. One question kept coming back to him though. Why, if they went to so much trouble to silence the daughter, was the father still alive, working for the government no less? Perhaps he had been paid off, but what kind of man would accept money for the life of his child. Fraser shook his head, it made no sense to him.

Whilst going through the original list of associates he had managed to obtain, Fraser had found himself paying particular attention to the time directly after Jenna's death. During the weeks following the funeral, Maxwell Developments was scheduled for meetings almost weekly. Strange for a busy government official who had just lost his daughter. It was then that Fraser had decided to look further into the company. On the surface, the company was simply a developers that had done some work for the government, a couple of new buildings, in particular in Ottawa and Toronto. There was nothing to suggest anything untoward was happening as a part of the development, but still the name kept coming up. Fraser had tried making enquiries himself, but nothing had ever come of them. It was then that he had asked Ray if he knew of anyone in the construction industry who may know a little more about the developers.

Ray had come through for him. The file he had now in front of him contained details of contracts the company had with certain parties, including the Canadian Government. This in itself was not suspicious, but the speed at which the contract had been fulfilled surprised Fraser. Although he was not an expert in construction, Fraser knew enough to know that, according to these documents, the buildings had been completed in record time.

Looking again at the details of the buildings, Fraser's brow creased; he had never heard of any Government buildings at these addresses. Making up his mind, he telephoned Ottawa.

A female voice answered after only a few rings, introducing the main headquarters of the Canadian Government.

"How may I be of assistance?"

"Ah, I was wondering if you could possibly give me a telephone number for the reception at the Stevenson Avenue office."

"Stevenson Avenue, Sir?" The voice on the other end of the line questioned.

"Yes ma'am," confirmed Fraser.

"I'm afraid we do not have any offices on Stevenson Avenue, sir. Is there a particular department you were requiring?"

"Ah, no. That's alright, thank you kindly." Fraser hung up the telephone. So, he was right, there were no buildings where Maxwell Developments had supposedly built them. Fraser was even more confused now. Why would the Government pay a developer for buildings that were never constructed? Unless, the buildings were being used for top-secret business, but that still would not explain the time taken for the construction. Barely two months was recorded for the build time, and that included interior installation as well as the outer envelope.

Fraser jotted down some thoughts in the ever growing file he kept locked in his desk. Placing the file back into its place, Fraser returned to his desk, thankful that work had been light this past week.

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