- - - - -

"Okay, people, listen up!" The twenty or so agents gathered around Don, clipboards, notepads and laptops in-hand. "For the time being, Charlie is staying here. Which means I need one-hundred percent from everyone on this. If there is a real connection to Charlie we need to find it."

"I take it you asked him about the grocery store and restaurant?" David asked.

"Yeah, he's never been to either one."

David tapped his pencil against the desk next to him. "I'll ask around there again, see if anyone knows Charlie. You got a picture of him?"

Don pulled a candid shot he'd taken of Charlie at his blackboard and handed it to David. "Megan, have you spoken to Kyle again?"

"I was waiting to clear everything with Charlie first, but I'll get on it."

"Ask him about the notes, the house, what Charlie has to do with any of this. If he's really being as cooperative as he claims, he should give us some leads. Colby, take down his statement." Don turned and addressed the room at large. "The forensics team is still tossing the house. I want analyses going on anything they find the minute they find it. Hummel, take a few guys over there, bird-watch."

"Where is Charlie, anyway?" Colby asked, pushing his chair under the desk.

Don jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "He's working on some reverse game theory thing. Charlie believes that this may not be a legitimate gang."

Megan blinked her surprise. "That certainly would change everything…what do you think?"

"I don't know, on the one hand I trust his opinion completely. On the other hand…" Don shrugged in that 'well what can I say' sort of way. "Someone just tore his house apart, allegedly to get to him. I just- I don't know how rational he's being right now. I guess we'll know when he gives us some concrete information and a fancy equation to go with it."

- - - - -

"Why'd you do it, Kyle. Why'd you go after Professor Eppe's house?" Kyle stared straight ahead and Megan had to lean into his vision to get him to glance at her. "Hey. You promised to help this investigation. It's your only chance of getting out of here."

"I…changed my mind."

Colby got up and crossed over to him. "Listen, Kyle. I know you think you've got no reason to trust us, that the people out there are going to help you. But let me tell you something, this is a bad move. You ever play chess?"

Megan and Kyle both looked at him. "Y-yeah, but…"

"You're about to sacrifice your queen, buddy. You drop your cooperation with us, you may as well kiss your best case scenario goodbye."

Kyle chewed his lip and looked away. "I can't…"

"Why," Megan urged. But Kyle had shut down. He wasn't even entertaining the possibility anymore, and both agents knew it. Megan sighed, climbing out of her chair as she and Colby both headed for the door.

Colby walked out, but Megan hesitated. She turned, hands on the doorframe. "If anything happens to Professor Eppes? You're willingly planting yourself in the middle of a murder trial. And you don't have to be pre-law to know what that means."

- - - - -

Charlie's audience, as usual, was rapt, and despite the way each eye was watching him like he was about to break, he started into his presentation in top-form.

"I've organized all the evidence we have so far, filtering out all the assumptions we've been making, based on the presupposition that we are chasing down some form of group organized crime. Now, using graph theory coupled with elements of game theory, I arranged the information like so." He tapped on the whiteboard which was covered in circled words. Lines ran from circle to circle like beads strung across a very long string and there were tiny calculations written in each margin.

David smiled placidly. "Uh…Charlie?"

"Right, sorry. Well. There are several things in this diagram that are inconsistent with the idea of a gang. We've molded them, bent them to make them fit into our assumptions, but once you remove those assumptions, we're left with bare facts that do not support that conclusion."

Don shook his head. "Such as…?"

"Such as- well, for one thing," Charlie tapped a circle with the word 'target 1' which was connected to another circle reading 'target 2'. "The grocery store and the restaurant are perfect places for a gang to make their point. Fatalities, wide locations, low security. But CalSci and my house," he tapped the 'target 3' and 'target 4' circles, "zero fatalities. Plus, they put themselves in a school and a residential area. Too many people, high risks."

"Uh-huh…" Don sat up straight. "So maybe it's a copycat. Somebody who's after you picked up the real gang's MO and decided to use it to mislead us."

"Maybe, but then- what happened to the real gang? Where are those original bombers who were in such a hurry to get their point across, they bombed two buildings just days apart?" He capped his marker. "I also finally ran those official statements you took from Jackson and TJ."

"And?"

"And…they don't fit into any of this, Don. Not as far as I can see."

Don shook his head. "So we're dealing with virtually unknown bad guys now."

"Not unknown." Charlie grabbed a red marker and traced over three black circles with it. "Ken, Kyle and Jim."

"They're not talking anymore," Megan said flatly. "Kyle 'changed his mind' about the whole thing."

"Well I'll work these numbers over. I just finished writing an algorithm I'd like to try on Kyle and Jim's profiles. I'll write up a flowchart to show you later, if that would help."

Megan nodded. "It would. Colby and I are going at Ken one more time, but…I'm not holding my breath. These boys are getting more and more distant. I think they gained some confidence from that attack on Charlie's house."

"We need to get something on them quick." Don pointed to David. "Check back with our forensic guys, see if we've got anything from the house yet. Charlie, if you need anything for your- well, for whatever you're doing, just let me know. We can make any files available."

"Thanks, I think I've got everything. Just…" He shrugged apologetically. "I could really use a connection between the first bombings and the third one."

"I'll get on it." Don gave him the best 'no worries' smile he had. Charlie seemed too tired to return it.

- - - - -

Don hesitated for a long time, then wrapped on the door. "Hang on a sec!" came an impatient voice.

"Dad, it's Don." The door opened. "Hey, how you doing?"

Alan leaned against the doorframe. "Okay, considering I'm mooching off the hospitality of friends since my real home has been pillaged."

"Well, Dad- I said you could stay at my place with Charlie and I-"

"Phil and Doreen are happy to let me stay with them, and I know that apartment is barely room enough for you boys." The first hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his eyes. "I'm not blaming you Donnie," he said quietly. "And I appreciate your concern for my well-being." His eyes twinkled with a real smile. "Don't think I haven't noticed the black Sedan down the road. It's been there since breakfast." Don opened his mouth to apologize, but Alan stepped back from the doorway. "Come on in."

Don walked inside, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'. "Listen, uh…I need to talk to you about Charlie's movements for the past couple weeks."

Alan reclined in an arm chair, offering the one beside it to Don, who sat down, notepad in hand. "Why don't you just ask Charlie?"

"I asked him a few things, but you know how he is. Remembers his first-grade locker combination-"

"Can't remember what day he graduated or how to spell 'combination'."

Don grinned. "Every genius has his weaknesses."

"Well which days do you need to know about?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black planner.

Don opened his notebook. "Do you have anything for…April 12th?"

"Uh, let's see…April 12- yeah. That was the day I went to the John Steinbeck book club."

"You remember what Charlie did that day?"

"He spent some of the day in town, running errands. I think he may have gone to the hardware store or the grocery store…I'm not sure. He had some miscellaneous stuff to do."

"Uh-huh." Don jotted something down. "How about April 16th?"

"Umn, I've got nothing here. It was Saturday, and you were working on something late that night, so we probably just hung around at the house."

"Nothing scheduled?"

"Nope, nothing here."

"Okay, thanks anyway." Alan made to put his planner away, but Don grabbed the edge of it so he could see the front. 'Alan Eppes 2006-2007' was written on the cover in gold.

"Hey, I remember this. Didn't I give it to you last Christmas?"

Alan smiled, flipping it over. "Gave Charlie one too, only in uh-"

"Brown, yeah I remember."

"The one he nearly lost." Don laughed. "No joke, he'd gotten Amita to help him draft a new one by the time I got it back to him."

"Ah Charlie…" Don returned his notebook to the pocket inside his jacket. Then he stopped and looked up at his dad again. "How long ago did he lose it?"

"Well he didn't lose it, I found in the basement with all his-"

"Dad, how long ago?"

"Well let's see, maybe…a week ago, possibly two. And then I found it just a few days ago." Don stood up quickly and went to the door. "Can I assume you just had an epiphany that you can't share with me?"

Don paused in the doorway. "I'll call you as soon as I know something for sure, Dad, promise."

- - - - -

"Hummel!" Tad Hummel turned around and waved an arm over the sea of investigators. Don pressed through the crowd.

"What's up, Agent Eppes?"

"I need something from the house, was wondering if it's come through yet. It's a brown, leather planner with Charlie's name on it."

"Brown leather…yeah, you know, I think we dug that out of the basement a little while ago."

"Was it dusted?"

Hummel laughed and went towards one of the forensic team's vans, indicating that Don should follow him. "Are you kidding? I think we've dusted every thing we've pulled from this place."

"I take it you haven't found anything of note."

"Not yet." Hummel hopped into the van and sat down on one of the benches, reaching for a plastic tub full of items in bags. "Yeah, we thought we should keep this aside since there was concentrated vandalism on the basement."

Don took the bag from him and slipped the planner out. He flipped to the month of April, eyes glancing down the boxes full of notations and times.

April 16

Dinner w/ Amita, 7pm

"All right, thanks, Tad. Let me know if you find anything, right?"

"Of course, I'll keep you posted."

- - - - -

Don knocked on the open door of Charlie's office and Larry looked up from the sundial he was fondling absently. "Agent Eppes, to what do I owe this unexpected drop-in?"

"Hey, Larry."

Larry stood up, index finger still rubbing up and down the gold needle on the sundial. "I talked to Alan this afternoon, he stopped by here before going to a friend's house. He told me all about Charles and the break-in…" Larry wrinkled his eyebrows in concentrated concern. "I was told he's staying at the office downtown, and I wanted to stop by and check on him, but I wasn't sure what…if uh- that would be appropriate or safe or-"

"Oh, yeah, Larry," Don nodded. "Absolutely. You know, I think Charlie could really use the help and if not, he could certainly use the company right now."

Larry seemed to relax a little and set the sundial back on the desk. "Then I'll head over there now." Don smiled gratefully as the professor gathered up his coat and laptop bag. He paused, pointing a finger in the air. "Now…you probably came in here for a reason. Anything with which I can assist you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you knew where I could find Amita."

"Ah, Miss Ramanujan and I parted company at the cafeteria and she indicated she'd be heading to the library after that. So I'd check there first, and the astrophysics lab next."

"Thanks." Don turned to go.

"May I ask you something that's very possibly none of my business?" Don shrugged his assent. "In your professional opinion, are these people trying to make a point or do you believe they may…actually be sadistically intent after our young mathematician?"

Don thought about that a moment. "Well we don't know anything for sure yet, I mean it's all up the air. But I'll tell you this: I'm really hoping it's not the latter."

"Indeed…indeed…" Larry knitted his eyebrows, troubled. "Well. I'm going to go check on the professor myself."

"Thanks, Larry."

- - - - -

"Knock knock." Charlie turned around and found Megan standing in the doorway. "How's it going?"

"Okay," he murmured. "How'd the interrogations go?"

"Eh, not too good." She sighed, sinking into a chair. "I think the three of them have perfected the 'like I care' expression."

"And would your psychological assessment be in favor of their participation in a gang still?"

"Well, they fit the profile, but they almost fit- too well." She smiled apologetically. "That doesn't make sense, does it."

"Actually, it makes loads of sense." Charlie pointed to a tree diagram he was working on. "These are the preliminaries I've done for that flowchart, and they're all indicating the same thing: That these boys are, to put it simply, fakes. Their actions are perfectly planned."

"Some of these bombs were assessed as being pretty sloppy, though. I mean- CalSci is the best example, there wasn't even anyone in it."

"Oh, their actions may have been planned seamlessly, still there are flaws. But they're flawed in ways that a gang's plans ought not to be. I think they're attempting to redirect their actions to reflect on a different party. In this case, a gang."

"M'kay, you lost me back at 'they're actions are perfect and flawed'."

"Well- imagine you're in a dark room, and you see the beam of a flashlight shining on the wall up ahead. Now, using simple deduction, like location of walls, furniture or anything that could impede the beam's path, we can trace the light back to its source. What these boys appear to have done is shine the flashlight at a mirror. Now, we can see where the light hits the wall, but we're tracing the light back to the mirror, not the flashlight."

"But we've all ready found the culprits."

"All but one, so it would seem."

"Right, the fourth boy who got away at the museum."

"Using trigonometry and continuing with this reverse game theory tree I'm working on, I could potentially point to who we're after."

There was a knock at the door and the two of them turned. Charlie grinned, and Megan smiled when she saw a little of the weight lift from his shoulders. "Larry, hey."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I wasn't sure I would be allowed, but Don said it would be fine."

"Absolutely," Megan said. "It's good to see ya." Charlie just beamed.

"Now, what's this? You've reversed game theory to…situate it in a graph. Fascinating, very Lorenz of you."

"You're just in the time," Megan told him. "Apparently we're on the cusp of adding trig to the equation."

"Oh, geometry, I guess this is my lucky day." He smiled dryly at Charlie who laughed. Larry seated himself in a chair next to Megan's, placing his elbows on the table. "You look exhausted, Charles."

"I'm all right."

"Well, I can't imagine investigating your own…well, something that involves you personally, can be easy."

"It's not," Charlie admitted, looking at his shoes and fiddling with the chalk in his hands. "I just…know this is the only way it's going to be over, you know. If I keep working at it."

Larry put his chin his hands and gave Charlie an encouraging nod. "At a boy."

- - - - -

"Amita?" Her head came up quickly. "Sorry," Don said, easing himself into the chair across from her. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's okay," she smiled, placing a sticky note on the page she was reading to mark her place.

"How you feeling? Charlie told me you came down with that fever again."

"Yeah, I was mostly annoyed to miss a whole day's worth of study." She laughed, then turned serious as a thought hit her. "Hey, how is Charlie? I mean, I heard about his house being ransacked, but that's about it. Is he okay, I mean- did they take anything?"

"Naw, it's uh…he's fine, he's gonna be okay."

"Well which is it, Don? He's okay or he's going to be?"

He smiled a little. "Listen uh…I can't tell you too much right now, but I need your help on something."

She shut her book. "Sure, yeah."

"I was reading over Charlie's calendar from a few weeks ago, and it says here…uh, he scheduled dinner with you on the 16th of April. But then, my dad said he and Charlie just hung around that night, so…did you cancel?"

"Yeah, uh that was the day I…got sick." She looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Amita?"

She sighed, twirling a finger around one of her curls. Finally, she leaned forward. "Listen…don't tell Charlie, okay?"

"Sure, yeah."

"Well…he asked me to dinner and said I should pick the place. If there was such thing as luck, mine would be the worst." She laughed ruefully. "I ended up picking a Cajun restaurant, and of course, after that I found out from your father that Charlie hates Cajun. So, I'd all ready made the reservations, and I didn't want him to find out."

"Why not?"

"Well, you know Charlie. He's such a gentleman, he'd have gone anyway, even though he hated it. I didn't want to do that to him, so I…told him I got the same fever that my sister had. I knew it was going around, I figured it was a safe alibi. And then I got it for real." She shook her head. "Incredible, isn't it?"

Don forced a laugh. "Yeah…did you make the reservations under your name or his?"

"Oh, his." Don nodded, adrenaline rising in his chest. "Yeah, he said if I picked the place, he'd pay, so I thought I should…Don, what is it?"

- - - - -