Chapter Twelve.

"I'm headed back up to New York, Charlie."

"What? No, Liv- you've got to stay with Philip, he's in a bad way-"

"Charlie, We'll all be in a bad way, if I don't find out what's going on," Olivia moved aside the curtains of the phone booth to glance out warily, "I don't know how deep this thing goes. You said Bell is dead, and Sharp has gone into hiding- getting Bishop isn't worth it, anymore."

"Bishop," Charlie growled, "do you think he's the one behind all of this?"

"No. I don't know."

"Who would want to keep some dead old gambler so hidden?" Charlie questioned.

Olivia paused. That was right- Charlie didn't know. And it would probably be safer, if he didn't, "I don't know, Charlie. But I'm going to find out- if Philip being attacked and Bell's death are connected, then they've just got to take out the ones in the middle-"

"Us and Sharp," Charlie completed. He sighed into the phone, "Okay, kid. Be safe, alright?"

"You be safe too, Charlie. See you."

"See you." And the receiver went dead. Olivia sat in the silence of the booth for a bit, until the operator flatly questioned if she needed another connection. Olivia hung up the phone without answering.

She looked out of the booth again cautiously before venturing out, into the diner. "Bad news?" questioned the man behind the counter, and Olivia shook her head. She thanked him and left.

Her slow paces on the empty sidewalk were not in time with her racing thoughts. She and Bishop had parted that afternoon, and she could still remember their conversation. "I'm poison, Miss Dunham," he had said, "It's probably best if you just forget me entirely."

And, from what she had observed so far, he had been correct. Things were getting more and more dangerous, the more time she spent with Bishop, and still there were no answers. She was certain that the murders were not of his construction- he had no way to know that Bell had sent her after him, and after the way she had seen him deal with his 'problems' that afternoon, she was fairly certain that he did not have the respect of certain underground members to request a hit from them… he simply did not have the facilities to commit such atrocities. Olivia had seen men of his kind countless times, in her profession.

Olivia stopped, in her strolling. Even in the lights of the casinos on the main drag, it was unsafe for her to be out by herself. She wanted to refrain from using her sidearm, if she could; best not to draw attention to herself, if at all possible. She glanced down the dim street, and at last approached a taxi, the driver seated on the hood, smoking a cigarette. He looked up as she approached, and quickly snuffed it out on the heel of his shoe.

"Excuse me," Olivia questioned, "You are still available, aren't you?"

"In every way," The driver replied, then shook his head, "Where can I give you a lift to, ma'am?"

Olivia paused. Not back to her hotel room, she'd already checked out… and going to the hospital to see Philip would almost certainly change her mind… "The Domino Club?" She questioned.

"Right away, Ma'am." He slid off the hood and opened the door for her, then scrambled back around the cab to climb into the driver's seat.

Olivia watched the brightly lit Casino fronts as they passed outside the window. Too much of her puzzle was infuriatingly unclear.

She reached the Club and was seated by a different waiter than her first out, and as she sat watching the other patrons of the nearly vacant place, she unconsciously began to register the details in her mind, filing them away as she always did; a man in an emerald-colored suit speaking to a waiter in hushed, angry tones; the clock showed that the show was late to start yet again; a woman had had spilled red wine onto her gown and was fretting about it; the Sax player had a stray curl escaping his otherwise well-groomed beard; and a man, strangely familiar in his dark suit and tie, was removing his fedora from his bald head as he crept like a shadow toward the greenroom door.

"Hey."

Olivia jumped as someone touched her shoulder, her hand immediately grasping for the snub-nose at her garter. Peter raised his eyebrows, "Nice view. What's got you so on edge?"

Olivia let out a sigh of relief, "Peter. Sorry, I was a little out of it."

"Can I sit here?" He questioned, motioning to the chair across the small table from her, and she nodded.

"What are you doing here?" Olivia questioned, and he smiled.

"Just enjoying what Atlantic has to offer. And I found my way all by myself," Peter said.

"Good boy. Then you've seen our living dead Bishop."

"Not exactly. I'm still waiting for the show to start…" he looked up at the clock, "… which should have happened over an hour ago."

xXx

Walter settled her listless form onto the bench seat, tucking a blanket around her and shutting the door quietly. To anyone, it would look as if she were sleeping… "Not as if you were kidnapping her," someone said, and Walter jumped, his hand darting to his Thompson in the front seat beside her. He stopped before he could raise it.

"September," he growled, glaring.

September stood perfectly still in the alley, his head tilting slightly with curiosity, "You were going to shoot me?" he questioned.

"I should. This is all your fault, you know."

"Mine?"

"Yes! If you hadn't shown up, telling her about Peter, none of this would have happened!" Walter snapped, "But now… now…" Walter looked over her shoulder at Astrid, slumped in the seat, and he let out a sigh, pushing his hat up from his forehead to rub his eyes, "What am I doing, September? Everything was just fine, and then things just started happening… and I don't know what I'm doing, anymore."

"Things were never fine, Walter," September said, "you could exist, but things were bound to happen, eventually. I tried to warn you."

"Your warnings are the pits," Walter joked mournfully.

"Then heed this one. You can't keep running, Walter. Things like this will only continue to happen, if you do."

"But I have to protect her!" Walter insisted, "She's the only one that ever gave a damn about me, you know that…"

"Then stop putting her in harm's way. Stop this where it starts, Walter- you know you can."

They were silent for a few moments, "How?" Walter asked at last, but he was dreading the answer, "I've done such terrible things, September. How do I know I won't be making another horrible mistake?"

"Do you think she will be pleased, upon awakening?"

Walter laughed quietly, "No."

"Then make her happy, when she awakens. Change the world for her- because she cannot keep changing it for you." September placed his fedora back onto his head, and turned for the back door, "I will tell them that the show has been cancelled."

xXx