1 week later

Wendy wasn't sure if she was bored out of her mind or blissfully relieved about the period of normalcy in Storybrooke.

She stared at Storybrooke's event board as she played with her now short hair (which Tink had evened out for her without question). Belle French's recovery had been the talk of the town, but now that she was getting better and no other updates on Jekyll had occurred, the town was hungry for another story.

Unfortunately, there was no front-page material going on in the town.

Wendy was glad for the lull, and staying with Tink had helped sleep more peacefully (she had a surprisingly comfortable pullout couch). Yet, now that there was peace in her life, she wasn't sure what to do with her time. When there wasn't total chaos in Storybrooke, there was nothing at all.

She glanced from her desk (which was still dusty and outdated but homier with the added pictures) to Pan's which was subsequently empty, as it had been since they had been released from the hospital. Wendy wasn't sure if he was taking time off or if he was reconnecting with Belle or even helping find Jekyll, who was still missing. She couldn't help thinking that if he was around, she wouldn't be as bored.

A knock on the door brought Wendy from her musings. She glanced around the wall to see an elderly gentleman standing there, hat in hand and kind eyes searching around the room. Wendy recognized him from his frequent visits in the diner, but aside from that didn't even know his name.

"Marco!" Sydney greeted, using the cane he had to use for therapy to stand. "Long time no see. What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping I could talk to Peter and the lady reporter who found Miss French."

Sydney seemed taken aback by the request but shrugged. "Sure. I'll give Pan a call and…" he glanced around until his sights landed on Wendy. "Ah, can you come here kid?"

Wendy carefully approached the two, her paranoia instincts reminding her than anyone could be an enemy.

"Hello." Marco greeted in a light accent, taking Wendy's hand as if it were made of precious glass. "It's a pleasure to meet you Miss…Darling, no?"

"Yes," Wendy answered more easily. "Wendy Darling."

"I can't begin to tell you what an honor it is just to speak to you. Belle…I adored that dear girl, didn't think I'd ever see her again. You brought her back to this town."

Wendy blushed at the light praise. "It…I'm just glad she's safe. Thank you."

"You're…very good at finding hidden things, no?"

Wendy stared curiously at the man. "Um, hidden things…find me actually." She coughed nervously.

"Forgive me, I just mean—"

The door burst open and Wendy and Marco turned to watch Pan stomp in, looking pissed at the world and then some.

"What?" Pan snarled, his cheeks red from the cold air.

"Peter!" Marco greeted heartily. "Good to see you! I have something to discuss with you and the young lady."

Pan turned to Wendy who shrugged good-naturedly.

"Fine, whatever. Follow me."

Wendy made a mad dash back to her desk for her notebook before she followed Pan and Marco to the small breakroom. Pan flopped back in one of the creaky chairs and half-heartedly addressed the two.

"Okay, what do you want?"

"Pan." Wendy hissed. "Be a little courteous."

"What? It's just Marco." Pan shrugged.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry. Won't you have a seat?"

"Thank you." Marco nodded. "I'm glad I can speak to both of you. I have a bit of a proposition for you both."

"Easy Marco." Pan smirked. "I don't play the prostitution route. She might but…"

Wendy kicked him under the table. "Can you get anymore vulgar?"

Pan rubbed his knee, glaring at Wendy. "Give me some time, we'll find out."

Marco cleared his throat nervously. "If I need to come back—"

"No!" Wendy and Pan exclaimed in unison.

"Please continue."

Marco fidgeted with his hat as he went on. "About a week ago, things of mine started…disappearing."

"What kind of things?" Wendy inquired.

"Insignificant things at first, nails, bolts and little bits of junk around my shop. But then more important things like my dear wife's wedding ring and pearls."

Wendy turned to Pan who looked unintrigued but had an eyebrow raised in question.

"If it's personal property that's missing, why not go to the police?"

Marco's eyes lowered, his fingers dancing over his hat.

Wendy jumped when Pan suddenly shot up. "What!"

"It's August isn't it?" Pan inquired with glee. "You think he's stealing from you?"

"I'll have you not talk about my boy that way." Marco fought.

"August is your…son?" Wendy inquired both for information and to keep an argument from transpiring.

"Yes." Marco confirmed. "He lost his way a long time ago, left the country for a while but came back after he ran out of money. He opened a business refurbishing automobile parts, and he was stable for a while, but now I fear…he may be slipping away once more. I believe in my heart he wouldn't do such a thing but…I have to be sure."

"And you don't want to turn your own son into the police in case your right." Wendy continued.

"Yes. I've searched and searched but I haven't found the missing jewels. I can't imagine where he might have hidden them. You see why I've come to the two of you."

Pan scoffed. "Me maybe, but her…"

Wendy shot Pan a dirty glare. "I do recall I was the one who found the lost dogs AND Belle. You were the one who nearly got us killed."

Pan gave her a look of his own. "We would have gotten in those situations with or without police interference."

"We wouldn't have had guns held to our heads if they had come sooner!"

Marco flinched as they fought. "Should I…"

"No!" they shouted in unison.

Pan growled and fell back in his chair. "Are we going to do this or not?"

Wendy looked at Marco, his eyes so fearful but hopeful. She didn't want to deny him the help he needed.

"I just…we're not detectives or anything."

"No," Pan said, sitting up. "We're better than that: we're sleuths. Journalists who are basically undocumented investigators."

Wendy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Your passion disturbs me."

"Good. Be disturbed." Pan smirked, mischief shining in his deep, green eyes.

"What if this turns out to be something bigger? I am really sick of having a gun pulled on me."

"We'll do what we've always done: I'll find something to stab him with, and you duck."

"I assure you, my son is not dangerous." Marco defended.

Pan shrugged. "I've been on the back of his motorcycle before; he's plenty dangerous."

Both Marco and Wendy stared at Pan who shook off their questionable stares. "Unimportant. I'm in, are you Wendy-bird."

Wendy took in a breath, pushing down the wave of fear that came along with her "investigating". Having Pan with her gave her mixed sense of security. He'd probably hide her cellphone if she tried to contact the police this time. He'd make things utterly difficult for her, and most of it would be just to annoy her. Still, she needed to do something. Sitting at her desk wasn't helping her heal, it was making her more antsy.

"If anything happens..."

"I will use my body as a shield." Pan promised her with a wink.

Wendy groaned, turning to Marco. "What exactly would you like us to do?"

"Thank you." Marco sighed in relief. "I would like you to search his residence for the stolen jewelry so that, if he should have them, I can confront him without police interference."

Wendy nodded, still unconvinced but wanting to help. "Where does he live?"

"His business is just at the town limits. He may be hiding the jewel's there. My shop is only a mile or so away."

Wendy stopped her writing, a cold wave sinking into her stomach. "The woods. Just perfect."

Pan snorted at her discontent. "We'll head there in about an hour. You can see your way out?"

Marco nodded, giving Wendy a concerned look as he put on his hat and left the breakroom.

"You're freaking out." He said as soon as Marco was out of ear-shot.

"It's just…" Wendy swallowed. "what if…Jekyll's out there?"

"He's not." Pan said decidedly as he gathered his things.

"How do you know?" Wendy sighed.

"I just do." Pan returned agitatedly. "Just…trust me."

"Oh God not this again."

Pan rolled his eyes and stepped up to her. "I promise you, Jekyll will never come near you again."

Wendy hesitated, something a lot more sinister than her paranoia keeping her rooted. Still, she wanted to solve Marco's mystery, wanted to keep busy. Wanted to move on.

She nodded her consent and Pan with triumph and shoved a helmet in her hands.

"What…how are we getting there?"

Pan turned to her from the door way, smirking cockily.

"I have a moped, remember?"

-,-,-,-,-

Wendy considered jumping from Pan's bike as he zoomed around a corner, causing her to squeeze his waist tighter which only boosted his ego. If they weren't going 70 miles per hour, she would have punched him in the ribs.

A cabin came into view and Wendy felt relieved that their journey was almost over.

"So what's the plan? Do we just knock on his door, throw him against the wall and tear his business apart?" Wendy questioned as they came to a stop in a cluster of trees at the back of August's residence.

"Kinky, but no." Pan responded as he hid the moped, holding out his hand for Wendy's helmet.

Wendy rolled her eyes and removed her helmet, running her fingers through her now short hair. She handed the helmet over to Pan and found him staring at her, this odd look in his eyes. It didn't make her uncomfortable but just slightly subconscious.

"What?" she inquired.

Pan blinked, snatching the helmet from her. "Nothing. Follow me."

Wendy did as he bayed and stayed on his heals until he stopped them just at the tree-line.

"Now we wait." Pan said.

"Why?"

Pan pointed to a parked motorcycle at the shop's front. "He's still here. Once he leaves we'll be free to go through his things, check walls and floorboards and the naught."

Wendy gave Pan a questioning look. "Sounds like you know what you're doing…"

Pan scoffed. "People always hide the goods in the tightest places. Learned that as a kid."

"Oh." Wendy replied in astonishment. "Who taught you that?"

Pan's good-natured smile disappeared. "Not important. Forget I said anything."

Wendy sighed in disappointment. For a moment she thought she was going to get to know him just a bit more.

"You still owe me a story." Wendy pressed. "Well, more like a saga at this point." She laughed to try to lighten the mood, but his dark look only intensified.

"If you can't stay focused than go stand with the moped." He hissed, a clear warning in his town.

Wendy shuddered and looked away. "I'm sorry. I just—"

Pan's hand suddenly collided with her mouth, stopping her apology and subsequently pissing Wendy off.

She slapped his hand away. "How dare you—"

"Shh!" he commanded, nodding to the shop.

Wendy looked up to see a gruff man in a leather jacket put a helmet on as he exited the shop—August if Wendy had to assume.

"Why don't we go talk to him?" Wendy inquired more quietly. "You seem to know him, maybe he'll open up to you."

Pan burst into a bitter scoff, an inside joke that Wendy was afraid—but wanted—to know.

"It's better if we just wait for him to leave." Pan concluded, easing to Wendy's side in case she tried to make a break for it.

Wendy however remained where she was, having the sudden urge to get this whole investigation over with as quickly as possible.

A twig snapped behind her and she glanced back just in time to see a dark mass disappear behind a cluster of trees. She held back her cry of terror and shot around, ready to start swinging at whatever was coming their way. After a moment however, nothing happened, and Pan was staring at her.

"There's something in the woods." Wendy hissed.

"It's called a squirrel." Pan hissed back.

Wendy tried to calm down but could not find reassurance. Jekyll was still out and about and the last time they were in the woods they were nearly killed by a psycho dog-killer.

"Wendy," Pan sighed, glancing back and forth at her and August's cabin, "you need to calm down. We're safe. There is nothing out there. Jekyll…is far from here." Then with some hesitation he added, "Do you want to leave? We can try this again tomorrow."

Wendy was surprised that he would offer something so selfless. As much as she wanted to take him off on the offer, she didn't want to turn her back on their current case. She had to push through it, had to carry on.

She shook her head and Pan gave a final nod, turning their attention back to August's cabin, his hand hovering just over her back.

They watched August get on his motorcycle and drive off towards the town, giving them the untold permission to start sleuthing. They crept up his porch and Wendy began looking searching under empty flower pots and the welcome mat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pan sighed.

"Looking for a key, of course." Wendy answered.

Pan smirked and reached around her and opened the door with ease.

"Small town—no need for locking doors all the time." Pan responded to her surprised look.

"That might change when we're through." Wendy said as she stood and brushed the dirt off her pants.

"That's the spirit!" Pan laughed as he stepped into August's house, as if he owned the place. Wendy followed with an annoyed frown, closing the door behind her.

She looked around August's residence with disgust. Clothes were thrown over the furniture, dishes stacked in and beside the sink, and the whole room—a living room connected to a kitchen— needed a good dusting. Wendy wished she had worn gloves.

"Where do we start?"

"You start down here, I'll search his bedroom."

"And you know where his bedroom is…how exactly?"

Pan shot her a dirty look and Wendy couldn't help but giggle at the pink tint forming on his cheeks. This mystery was becoming more and more interesting.

"Just check the damn cabinets, you crow." Pan spat as he made a bee-line upstairs.

Wendy snorted and carefully searched through the drawers and cabinets and even under the sink, not wanting to touch anything do to the filth and the paranoid fear of leaving fingerprints. Though she found several tidbits of junk, she didn't find anything resembling the jewelry. Still, Wendy wasn't one to scratch the outer surface and be content. With a determined, but disgusted, nod, she began checking the pockets of the strewn-out clothes, finding plenty of pocket money but no jewels. Just as she stood to return to the kitchen area, she felt one of the boards creak under her, the weight of her boot causing it to press in just slight.

An idea came to her and she got on her knees, pressing around for loose boards.

Above her, Pan smirked in amusement as she scavenged around, politely averting his eyes from her raised bottom—after a few seconds at least.

"Lose a contact, bird?"

Wendy jumped at the sudden intrusion and glanced up to her accomplice.

"I think I found something."

Pan whistled and trotted down the stairs."And that would be what?"

Wendy grabbed him by the pant's leg and forced him down to her level.

"Some of these boards are loose." Wendy confided.

Pan puffed. "Yeah, most of these cabins are pretty rotted."

Wendy turned a confident smirk his way. "Which means the floorboards would be a perfect place to hide valuables from sleuths…or police with a search warrant."

Pan's eyes crinkled upwards in approval (though he'd never tell her that) and he pulled out his cellphone, turning on the flashlight and shining it in the cracks of floor. They followed the loosest board to the porch where Wendy saw a series of glittering through the cracks.

"There's something there." She said, her heart pounded with excitement as she reached out to pull the board up, revealing a strange, tangled nest. Woven within the dried grass and twigs were a ring and set of pearls.

"That son of a bitch!" Pan exclaimed. "I can't believe he'd do this to his own dad."

Wendy was surprised to see him so concerned. His exact relationships with the people of this town were still a mystery—one she was beginning to think she'd never solve due to his intense need for secrecy.

"This is a very unusual hiding spot." Wendy mused. "This is a nest, Pan. A fresh one by the looks of it."

"You would know." Pan scoffed.

Wendy clenched her teeth to hold back an ugly comment.

"This isn't his doing Pan." Wendy said. "Something else has."

"Oh yeah, who?" Pan spat.

A strange sound—something between a squawk and a growl—caused Pan and Wendy to slowly turn around to the porch steps. Glaring at them—well, partially glaring, as one of the thing's eyes were glassed over—was definably a bird, but the deep scars and patches of missing feathers wouldn't allow the two sleuths to indicate just what kind. What they both noticed right off the bat was its bulky size and its sharp, threatening beak.

"That's a turkey." Pan said, more to assure himself that he had indeed recovered from his almost-drug overdose and the deformed creature in front of him wasn't a delusion.

"I think we found the jewel thief." Wendy concluded, flinching when the bird dug its claws into the wood of the porch, a sign that it was ready to come at them if they made any sudden moves.

"And his hiding place." Pan added. The turkey hissed in response and both sleuths struggled not to flinch. The thing was big enough to start pecking limbs off.

"What do we do?" Wendy whispered.

"How the bloody hell should I know? You think of something; you're the one in the goose-feathers!"

"Duck feathers!" Wendy hissed, running a hand self-consciously down her jacket. "And what, you think I can talk to turkeys?"

The bird in question started to ease forward, its growl sounding like the threatening rattler of a snake.

"We'll have to make a run for it." Pan concluded. "On the count of three run back into the house."

"Pan I don't…"

"One."

Wendy gulped, shaking under the murderous glare of the winged-beast.

"Two."

"We're going to die…"

"THREE RUN FOR IT!"

Wendy shot up and was in the house in two steps. She and Pan managed to close the door just as the turkey slammed into it, hollering and pecking the wood to try to get at them.

"What is this bird's problem!" Pan exclaimed as the turkey pecked aggressively at the door.

Wendy caught her breath. "We unearthed its nest, it's probably p-oed."

"Well August is going to be pissed off if he comes back and finds us being held hostage by his pet!"

Before Wendy could answer, the turkey's entire head broke through the bottom of the door, and it released a horrible squawk at Wendy and Peter.

The duo screamed, panicking as the turkey tore away the splintered wood and began to push its way inside, his dead eye shining with hatred at the intruders.

"It's going to kill us!" Wendy shrieked, looking around desperately for some kind of weapon to defend herself with.

"Like hell it is!" Pan hissed with determination, grabbing one of Wendy's arms and pulling her through the kitchen. "There's a back door, follow me!"

Wendy didn't bother to point out that she didn't have a choice and stayed on his heels. Together they burst through the backdoor, the blood-hungry turkey chasing them into the woods.

"The moped's the other way!" exclaimed Wendy as they dodged falling branches and unstable terrain.

"No time! We've got to find shelter!"

Wendy glanced back to see the turkey hot on their heels, its piercing talons ripping the ground apart as it pursued them. It was almost laughable, really: Wendy had faced three murder attempts so far, all of which were more gruesome than the next. Yet her life was going to end at the…beak?...of a damn turkey! Her father was going to be highly disappointed.

Suddenly, Pan snatched her away from the straight path they'd been running. The change in course distracted the turkey just long enough for them to get a few extra steps of distance between them. Before Wendy could question his reasoning, a car, partially buried under a mass of tree branches, came within their view.

"Where…"

"Who cares get the fuck in!" Pan screamed as he struggled to get one of the back doors open.

Wendy dared a look back to see the turkey steadily getting closer to them.

"Get it open GET IT OPEN!" Wendy shrieked.

With a great cry, Pan managed to yank the rusted thing open and he and Wendy jumped in, both of them yanking the door closed just before the screeching turkey slammed into the glass.

Panting, the two sleuths watched as the deformed bird aggressively slammed its beak into the window.

Wendy squeezed herself against the opposite door and began to pray. "Please don't break please don't break please don't break…"

Finally the turkey stopped, dropping back to the ground with a hiss, and began to paced to the back of the car.

Wendy and Peter turned to peer out of the back window. One tiny, black eye stared back at them. Dark and empty, no soul to be had. Peter twisted back in the seat, cursing and slamming the back of his head into the cushion.

Wendy shook her head and continued her stare down with the winged beast, wondering just how they were going to get out of this one. She hoped at some point the turkey would lose interest and return to its nest of valuables. She and Pan would then have to call animal control and Marco to figure out what to do about their feathered nemesis. Either way, they were going to have a hell of a story to tell.

"Oh shit."

Wendy turned to Peter who was pushing himself further into the stained seat, his eyes wide in terror.

It was only then did she notice that there was a rather unpleasant smell in the abandoned car, and as she followed Pan's line of sight, she discovered the source.

"Wendy don't—"

Her scream of terror was choked out by the smell, and she covered her mouth and nose.

Slumped over the middle console was the body of former Dr. Henry Jekyll, deceased and rapidly decomposing.