Thanks for the reviews thus far! I've got quite a few chapters left to post before I get you guys all caught up to where I actually am in the story. Forgive me if it takes a while for me to get it all up; I'm still trying to figure out the ropes.

Disclaimer: Moonlight and characters don't belong to me; I'm simply a fan having fun with the characters.

Beth stared in surprise at the store before her. Had it not been for the patrol cars and uniformed people swarmed outside, she would have thought she had gotten the wrong address. The store in front of her was a small, private business—nothing like the other targeted stores. Why the sudden shift in tactic?

"Crazy, huh?" Steve commented.

"Yeah…" Beth replied distractedly. "Listen, Steve, stay here and get some footage. I'm going to get a closer look." She drifted casually toward the store front but just as she was about to duck under the yellow tape, she heard a familiar voice.

"Beth!"

She straightened up and smiled. "Hey, Carl."

"Beth, you know you're not suppose to be here."

"So what happened here? Is there a body inside?"

"You can't be here," he said firmly. He placed a hand on her back and directed her gently but insistently away from the tape.

Beth didn't resist him but she was far from giving up. "Come on, Carl. I've been following this story for a while now and until now, I haven't seen you."

"There's no body inside," Carl relented with a sigh.

"So what is inside? Vandalism? A rage-driven mess?"

"You want to know what's inside?" Carl asked exasperatedly. "An ongoing investigation!"

"You have the entire area roped off," Beth persisted. "No one's allowed within a hundred feet of the store!"

"That's right. This is a crime scene, Beth. We can't have people trampling all over potential evidence and getting in the way."

Beth had a response formulated but as she was about to retort, her gaze fell on an ambulance a few dozen feet away. "There was an injury… is there blood?" She squinted, trying to see what was going on inside the ambulance. "There is, isn't there? That's why the police is suddenly all over this."

"Look Beth, I know you've been following this case but this isn't just another story. We don't know who this guy is or what he wants; someone could get hurt if you start poking around and make this guy feel threatened."

"I don't think he wants to hurt anybody…"

"You don't know that, Beth. Just—"

"Carl!" A uniformed man waved him over. "I think you should take a look at this."

Carl shot Beth a final look. "Just let us do our job, okay?"

Beth smiled innocently at him. Oh, but I can't. "Steve!" she called, when she was sure Carl was out of earshot. She motioned him toward the ambulance, gesturing toward its open back.

"Gotcha," he mouthed, flashing her a thumb up.

Beth wandered along the perimeter of the police tape, eyes trained on Carl until she was sure his attention had been sufficiently diverted from her. When she was within a dozen feet of the ambulance, she stopped, knowing that continuing her approach would draw unwanted attention. The man seated on the back of the ambulance was only mildly injured, Beth noted. Other than the bandages on his head and right arm, he appeared to be fine. Luck? Or was his injury unintentional like I insisted to Carl? Beth pondered. But she would have to contemplate that later; now she concentrated on trying to make out the conversation the man was having with an officer.

"—very good Mr. Miller," the officer was saying. "Can you tell me about your attacker? Was he tall? Short? Heavyweight? Scrawny?"

"He wasn't scrawny…" Mr. Miller said slowly, almost to himself. "He was wearing a big coat but I could tell that he had a good build. He was probably tall, but like I said, he was crouched on the floor when I found him and when he did stand, everything happened so fast, I couldn't tell…"

"That's okay, Mr. Miller. You're doing very well," the officer reassured. "Did you get a good look at his face? You said he turned around and talked briefly before he tossed you."

"Oh, I saw his face. He was an angry fellow," Mr. Miller said ruefully. "I saw it on his face—the anger that is—but I was so angry myself that I didn't care. He was damaging perfectly good merchandise! I've been doing this a long time officer and I can't afford to waste anything; I need the money to support my family."

"But what about his face? Can you describe it to me?" the officer prompted.

"His hair was blond—dark blond. It was long, curly. Messy too, like he hadn't combed it. And his eyes were blue I think. Very clear blue. He had a tall nose and his cheeks looked… gaunt—almost unhealthy."

"So he looked sickly? Or maybe he had a pallor?"

"No… he just looked a little… malnourished."

The officer nodded. "Was his face long? Round?"

"Long," Mr. Miller responded confidently. "But not sharp; it was almost sharp, but not quite sharp."

Beth's mind whirred furiously as she mentally pieced together an image. There were some discrepancies but her mind kept linking her mental image with the man she had seen in Anna's photos. Could it be? Things could change in three months.

"Hey."

Beth almost jumped. "Mick! Don't do that!"

He chuckled. "I knew it was only a matter of time before I found you here."

Beth made a face. "Well, I have my sources. But how did you know to be here?"

"What do you mean?" He looked at her in that focused way that Beth was sure would make any passerby think she had just asked him the most intriguing question.

"You said you didn't have any contacts in the department."

"No, I said it's hard to make contacts when you never age."

Beth harrumphed. They could probably go on about this for awhile, she thought wistfully. Too bad the case on hand was more pressing. "Well I know what our 'attacker' looks like. What've you got?"

He smiled. "His name."

Beth stared at him. "Anybody we know?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level, unexcited.

"Shane," he replied teasingly, his tone implying that it should have been obvious.

Her smile was immediate. "I knew it!"

"Don't get too excited yet," Mick cautioned. "We still have to find him."

"Don't be a baby, Mick. If he's targeting stores in LA, he can't be too far from LA… Besides, being as old as you are, I'd think you'd relish the challenge."

Mick scoffed. "Immortality is not as boring as you think—especially when you're a vamp."

"I know." Beth smiled reminiscently as she recalled how alive she had felt under the influence of black crystal.

Mick raised his eyes. "You know, I didn't mean that in a good way."

Beth shrugged. Maybe she'd never understand, but right now, all her mind could focus on was Shane. "Maybe Shane didn't plan this alone… maybe someone he worked with helped him disappear."

"They've already been questioned."

"But what if we question them again? I mean, when did the police question them? Three months ago? That—"

"Actually, they were questioned again after Gilly was taken."

Beth fell silent. "Well, even so, I'd like to know where he worked."

"Where he worked…" Mick repeated thoughtfully, mulling over her question.

Beth watched him expectantly, but when he didn't continue, she waved a hand in front of his face. "Mick! You were saying…?"

"The Williamson bank!" Mick exclaimed wonderingly. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before!"

"Williamson bank? What Williamson bank? Is that where Shane worked?"

"He didn't work there Beth; that's where he is."

Beth was startled. How had they suddenly jumped from tentative guesses to knowing Shane's exact whereabouts? "What is this, some vampire ability? I ask you one question and you suddenly know the answer to another?"

"No, Beth. The smell of it was inside." He waved his hand in the general vicinity of the store. "It was faint, so I almost didn't catch it but since I did, I've been trying to place it."

"You know what a bank smells like?" And I told him humans were full of surprises…

"It burned down in a fire in '87," Mick explained. "Josef owned some of the estates that had burned down along with the bank, so he asked me to investigate."

"So the rich do notice when their playthings are damaged," Beth remarked.

Mick smirked. "Oh believe me—Josef wasn't concerned about the damage; it was a small loss for him. He was actually convinced that someone was out to get him and he couldn't rest until he 'found the rascal and taught him a lesson,' I believe were his exact words."

"But… he didn't own the bank?"

"No; but it turned out the fire hadn't been an accident. Someone—I can't remember who—had a grudge on Daniel Williamson and set the bank on fire, but the flames went out of control and burned most of the buildings on the street before they were finally put out."

"Talk about vengeance…" Beth murmured.

Mick shook his head. "Josef had me on that case for weeks; we had a good laugh about it later but for weeks after, I smelled the reek of the wreckage wherever I went."

Beth patted his arm sympathetically. "I can't believe the smell is still here, after twenty years."

Mick's eyes fluttered close fleetingly. "The smell of the past never disappears."