The following morning, the guys assembled in The Garage early in the morning. It had been a trying couple of days, but they were sure that things had to be much worse for Summer. Now more than ever they were certain that someone had set her up for a fall. Now they just had to find a way to prove it to the rest of the colony to secure her release.
Dillon sat on the stairs, playing with a monkey wrench as a way to ease his mind. He had no idea what to do; all he could think about was Summer, sitting helplessly in a cell. He hadn't seen her now since the night of the murders when he had gone home. His heart burned every time he thought about it. He had teased and taunted her about being a control freak. If he hadn't done that, he was sure she would never have gone with those guys to the pool table.
More than that, he felt his chest growing heavy any time he thought about the fact he had just walked away and left her in the bar on her own. She had told him to go if he wanted, but he shouldn't have listened. It was because of him that she had been left vulnerable to them. If he had just stayed, maybe he would have seen something or noticed something. He might have stopped her being drugged. He certainly would have stopped them taking her home with them. He couldn't help feeling guilty any time he thought about what had happened to her, and he had been thinking about that ever since it had happened. He couldn't bear to think she had ended up in harm's way because of him.
Scott paced back and forth in front of a white board, holding a marker pen, considering what they knew as Flynn and Ziggy settled onto the stairs with Dillon. Flynn looked sympathetically at the Black Ranger and tapped him on the shoulder in a wordless gesture of support. He had realised how much he cared for Summer, and he knew how badly he had taken everything that happened. Scott called all of them to order.
"OK, we need to figure out a good timeline of events." He told them. "From the beginning, what do we know?"
"Stephen Walker said that he received a cell phone and written instructions in the mail." Flynn told him. "He was meant to take the tapes out of the security system and call 911 when he received a call. He was told to say he heard a disturbance and send troops to Paul White's apartment."
"He said that he was told he'd be wired 2000 credits if he did it." Ziggy chipped in. "Central Command accessed his account. 2000 credits were wired to his account the following morning."
"So it looks like he told the truth about being hired to make the call." Scott concluded. "Could he have called his employer to warn him?"
"He says he never met the guy face to face. The only contact he had was the letter and the phone call on the night. The number was withheld, so we can't retrace the number." Flynn answered him. "We called the troops after we questioned him. They found a still in his back room; they've got enough to hold him without touching this charge."
"In this situation, he'd have given up the name if he had it." Ziggy responded. "He's going down regardless, at least if he gave up his boss, he would only go down for production of contraband."
"So that's all he knows." Dillon concluded. "So now we move on to the night in the bar."
"The man in the black hoodie came in shortly after we did and sat across from us, watching us." Flynn stated. "He never took down his hood, so we didn't get a look at his face, but careful inspection of the tape did show that he signalled to the victims. They were aware of his presence, and they seemed to know him."
"They were working together." Scott concluded. "He signalled them to move in when most of us had left."
"We were already arguing." Dillon recalled sadly. Ziggy nudged him and looked into his eyes.
"You can't blame yourself." He told him. "You didn't do this to her."
Dillon nodded in a wordless thank you for his friend's support. Scott rolled the tape a little, stopping it not long after Dillon left. He pointed out the stranger making his move.
"He put something into a bottle of beer and then placed it on the edge of the pool table when she was lining up a shot. One of the victims then gave it to Summer." Scott stated, rolling it forward a few frames. "That's when she was drugged."
"Fast forward to the end of the tape, and Summer all but passed out." Ziggy said as Scott wound the tape on to the final reel. "Then the four of them left, with our mystery man taking up the rear."
The mail man arrived, handing a letter to Dillon. He opened it absent-mindedly as they continued with their briefing.
"After that, they went back to the apartment. There was a fight, during which three of the men were stabbed to death." Scott continued. "Summer's fingerprints were found on the knife, but we now know that traces of leather were found on it too, leather which matches the gloves from the recycling room."
"So our mystery man also handled the knife." Flynn stated. "So he turned on and murdered his own accomplices."
"Right now we can't prove that." Scott replied with a regretful shake of the head. "So far that looks like what happened, but we can't prove it. We can only prove he was there and that he held the knife."
"Either way, Summer passed out and he left through the recycling chute." Ziggy chipped in. "There he changed out of his blood-stained clothes, made the call to Stephen and left."
"Not long after that the cops burst in and find Summer there by herself with the victims and her fingerprints on the knife." Dillon concluded. "There's just one thing, why did he tox screen not show anything?"
"Sam told me there're a lot of drugs that would cause the symptoms Summer described." Flynn told him reassuringly. "Some of them are metabolised in only a few hours. Summer's system was probably clean by the time they tested her."
"So now all we can do is find the guy in the black hoodie." Scott concluded. "Then we can piece together what actually happened in that apartment."
"We need to do it soon." Dillon told them, turning a little pale as he finished the letter. He handed it to Scott to read. Flynn and Ziggy both rushed to his side and read the letter in horror.
"She thinks she did it." Flynn said sadly, having to sit back down as the latest blow to their quest knocked the breath out of him.
"She sounds so miserable." Scott stated, realising as soon as he said it how futile a statement it really was. They knew she would be miserable in prison; it wasn't exactly a holiday resort. This letter though was different. He felt more than just sadness from her words, he felt resignation. She was giving up. He had never known her to be so depressed. He could feel her depression as though the paper was radiating it, infecting the team. He couldn't look at it any longer and shoved it away out of sight.
"We don't have long." Flynn sighed sadly. "That place is killing her."
"We need to get her out of there." Dillon stated. "Now!"
"Turning her into a fugitive isn't going to help!" Flynn told him, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back down onto the step as he tried to stand. "We need to do this right."
"And we need to do it quickly." Scott interjected. "Dillon's right. We're running out of time."
Back at the prison, Summer and Mouse never exchanged a word as they ate breakfast. They hadn't spoken since Summer had blown up the night before over Morris' taunting. Mouse eyed up her friend in concern. She had seen so many prisoners come and go in the time she had been here that she had an instinct for when someone was close to breaking point. She knew that Summer thought very fondly of her friends, being separated from them had affected her mind badly.
"You can talk about it you know." Mouse told her, causing Summer to look up at her. "Your friends I mean."
"I don't want to talk about them Mouse." Summer replied sharply. "What's the point? I'm never going to see them again."
"You never know what the future holds." Mouse assured her. "I mean, I would never have thought I'd lose my virginity in the High School library."
Summer gulped the mouthful of porridge she was eating and looked at her in amazement.
"You lost your virginity in High School?" She asked disbelievingly.
"No, I lost it in the High School Library." Mouse corrected her. "I was working there at the time. It was a few months before I came here."
She leaned across and held Summer's hand softly, drawing her attention back to her.
"We need good memories to keep us going in here." Mouse told her. "Any time I feel low, I think about him."
"Who was he?" Summer asked her.
"Dr. Wardle." Mouse answered. "I said he taught me a lot."
"You hooked up with your boss?" Summer asked her.
"He was always really unhappy. He seemed to be having a lot of trouble at home. He'd always work late to try and put off going home. One night I asked him if anything was wrong, and he let me know he was having problems with his wife." Mouse explained, smiling at the memory. "I would listen to him whenever he needed to talk to someone, and I was there for him. He said that his marriage was pretty much over, but he only stayed because his wife threatened to kill herself if he left. Before long we were having an affair."
Summer looked at her new friend slightly unconvinced, but Mouse just returned with a sigh and a little glare.
"I know, I've seen TV too, and I've read more books than the entire student population. I know a lot of guys say that to have their cake and eat it, but he genuinely seemed unhappy. I could see it in his eyes. I believed him." She answered in an exasperated tone, playing nervously with her fork. "We were pretty close. I loved him so much. One night after the students went home and he closed the library. He brought out a bottle of wine and we had a few drinks and we talked. Before I knew it, he told me he loved me. We made love that night."
Summer smirked a little, trying to get the mental image of Mouse being tipsy and sleeping with her boss in a library. She just didn't seem like the type to do something like that. Mouse was glad to see Summer smiling again.
"So, tell me about Dillon." Mouse said with a little smirk. Summer couldn't help smiling briefly, but her expression slipped straight afterwards.
"I said I don't want to talk about my friends." She grumbled. "I'm trying to start a new life, there's no point..."
"Oh come on, humour me will you?" Mouse teased her, hitting her shoulder playfully. "Dr. Wardle stopped visiting me a few weeks after I came here. I know he isn't waiting for me. That doesn't mean I can't have happy memories about the time we did have together."
A guard came over, interrupting their conversation.
"The two of you are on trash can duty in the North Eastern sector." He informed them abruptly. "Be in the yard in ten minutes."
He left them, at which Mouse turned back to Summer expectantly. Summer just shook her head.
"We need to be going." She stated, picking up her food tray. "The trash won't haul itself."
"Well don't think I'm going to give up on this." Mouse replied, getting up herself. "Trash duty goes so much quicker when you have something to talk about."
Summer just shook her head and left with Mouse dejectedly. She really was trying to just not think about the others and get on with things here; especially now that she was sure she had killed the three men in the apartment and deserved to be in prison. Of course, Mouse had also accomplished something she had been intending to all along. As much as she tried to put them out of her mind, she was thinking about her friends.
Back at the Garage, the others were still brainstorming how exactly they could go about identifying the stranger from the apartment. Scott wiped clean the white board.
"So what do we know about this guy?" Scott asked the others. "The first thing we know is his height. He seemed to be about the same height as Paul White in the video. Flynn, what height did the report place him at?"
"5' 9"." Flynn answered, leafing through the reports.
"OK, to give us some leeway, we'll place him between 5'8" and 5'10"." Scott replied. "The hoodie was baggy on him, but we know he has to have been skinny. He wouldn't fit down the recycling chute otherwise."
"So how does that help us establish his weight?" Ziggy asked him.
"Ziggy, what height are you?" Scott asked him. Ziggy shrugged.
"I'm about 5'8"." He replied. "Why?"
"How much do you weigh?" Scott asked him.
"110 lbs." He replied. Scott looked at him, clearly unconvinced. "105?"
"Ziggy..."
"OK, I'm about 95 lbs." He conceded. "Maybe 100 after a large dinner, why do you want to know?"
Scott grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his pant and shoved him head-first down their own recycling chute. Flynn and Dillon came to his side and looked at the hatch.
"It's not like I haven't thought of doing that myself at times." Flynn told him casually. "But you know we could have just used the size of his clothes to determine his weight."
"We could." Scott conceded. "Of course I thought this would act as a more direct demonstration."
"He fit down the hatch, but he was a tight enough fit that he scraped the sides." Dillon commented. "I'd say he's the perfect analogue."
"OK, so we can say that our man's between 95 and 100 lbs." Scott stated as Ziggy came back into the room from the basement, pulling an old take-away carton from his hair. "So we have a decent physical description of him."
"If you don't count not having a hair colour, eye colour or any idea of what his face looks like." Ziggy said a little grumpily. "Oh, and if you really wanted me to see if I'd fit in the recycling chute, you could just have asked."
"He has a point." Flynn replied. "We only have a very basic physical on him."
"So the next thing we have to go on is his connection to the victims." Scott stated in an exhausted sigh. His exasperation with the case was obvious. They knew a lot about the events surrounding what had happened up until the slaughter in the apartment. Now they just needed to know what actually happened in there, and the only way they could do that was to find this faceless wraith that had caused all of this. "They obviously worked for him."
"We should look for a connection to Stephen Walker too." Ziggy suggested. "I think he probably knew him too. Why else would he choose him to make the call?"
"We go to that bar all the time Ziggy." Scott reminded him. "He could have chosen any of the barmen..."
"But he chose the only one with a criminal record." Ziggy interrupted him. "It's thin, but I think the reason he chose Stephen is because he knew something about him, something that meant he knew he would do as he was told."
"If there was a connection to him, then there might be a connection between him and the victims." Flynn suggested. "It's not much, but it's a start."
"Come on; let's find out who these guys are." Scott announced.
"I just need to borrow Ziggy for a minute." Dillon told them. "I have something I want to follow up on."
"Care to enlighten us?" Scott asked him.
"If it comes to anything, I'll let you know." He responded. Flynn could guess what he wanted and nodded in understanding.
"Ziggy, meet us in the records office when you're done." He instructed him, before turning back to Scott and gathering his jacket. "You take the computers; I'll take the hard copies."
As they left, Ziggy turned to Dillon.
"So what can I do for you?" He asked.
"Ziggy, I need you to hack into the prison system." He replied. "I need you to do me a favour."
Meanwhile, in another part of town, Summer and Mouse were busy at work, loading the contents of overflowing recycling bins into the back of a truck. As she bent down to pick up tome trash that had fallen out of the latest trash can, she felt a painful twinge in her back. Her injuries and strains from her brutal treatment had not yet fully healed, and the physical nature of the job wasn't helping any. She looked over to where Mouse manhandled another thrash can into the truck.
"Dillon's a friend." She said, remembering their earlier conversation. "I met him a few months ago."
"A friend?" Mouse asked her, getting a little smirk on her face. "A friend you talk about in your sleep?"
Summer wanted to reply, but she couldn't. Mouse had seen through her on this account. She did think of Dillon as a lot more than a friend. After what Ronan had done to her, she just couldn't bring herself to let any man get that close to her. She never thought she would meet anyone she could think about in that way, but something about Dillon had spoken to her on a level she thought she'd never be able to feel.
"I'd have liked him to be more." She admitted as she threw a handful of trash into the back of the truck.
"So what's he like?" Mouse asked her.
"He's...not like anyone I've ever met before." She replied. "He's smart, he's quiet. He's just as stubborn as I am..."
"Sounds like you're made for each other." Mouse chuckled. "Why did you never tell him how you felt?"
She slumped against the side of the truck, covering her eyes with her hands and groaned. It was a question that had a very simple answer, that it all seemed so stupid now. A large part of the reason she was in here was because she had insisted on playing this stupid game with him to try and maintain control instead of just admitting to him that she was crazy about him. That she had thought about him almost all the time since the moment they had met. She was just too scared to say something to him and leave herself vulnerable.
"I was too scared to say anything." She muttered. "I was so nervous that I couldn't bring myself to admit it."
Just then, they noticed a little commotion further up the street where their accompanying officers were discussing something with someone.
"There's no contact with prisoners." One of the guards said loudly. "If you want to arrange visiting time..."
"Look, this it official business, I need to speak to one of those prisoners." A familiar voice stated. Summer retreated behind the truck and sat on the ground, pulling her knees into her chest. Mouse came round the truck and smiled at her.
"I take it that's Dillon." She surmised. She looked over to where he was still arguing with the guards. "You never mentioned he was cute."
"What's he doing here?" Summer whispered weakly.
"Well I doubt he's interested in recycling patrols." Mouse said reassuringly.
"Look, if you want to interview a prisoner, you need a warrant." One of the guards told him. "If you want to contact the warden..."
"Look, I'm going to speak to that prisoner." Dillon told him sharply. "Now, do you really want to try and stop me?"
The two guards considered it for a second, before stepping aside. It wasn't as if he could take her anywhere, not when she was wearing her tracking collar. He came over to the truck, finding Summer looking up at him.
"I'll keep working." Mouse said, leaving the area quickly. Dillon offered Summer a hand to get to her feet. She accepted, pulling her back upright.
"Dillon, what are you doing here? She asked him. "How did you find me?"
"Ziggy hacked into the prison's tracking system and accessed the signal from your collar." He informed her, noting her injuries. He brushed her cheek with his finger. Her right eye was black, and her cheek was still bruised and swollen. She had numerous other injuries, but this was the most noticeable. He hated to see her like this. Her shoulders were slumped, and she wasn't able to stand up straight, or look him in the eye. A lot of her spirit and fire were gone already. "What happened to you?"
"It looks a lot worse than it feels." She assured him. "Some of the inmates wanted to welcome the new celebrity."
"I read your letter." He interrupted her before she could continue. "Summer, what's going on here?"
"I remembered that night." Summer told him. "Dillon, I did it."
"Did you remember everything?" He asked her.
"What does it matter?" Summer asked him as her tears began. "I remember enough. I remember fighting with them. I remember my hand on the knife in his chest!"
"Summer, we've been looking into the case, that's why Ziggy and I weren't at court." He told her. "A lot of stuff has been missed. You only remember part of what happened."
"How do you know?" Summer sobbed, sitting on the rear of the garbage truck. "Dillon..."
"I just know!" He implored her, reaching out and cradling her chin with his hand, lifting her face up to look into her eyes. He wanted to tell her what they had found out. He wanted to lift her out of her mood and give her hope, to raise her spirits, but he knew he couldn't. Not only would it be devastating to her if things didn't work out, but he knew that if she remembered any more about that night, then her testimony would be rendered inadmissible if she had been told about the other man in the apartment. Everyone would just say that she had made it up because the others had told her about it. "Please, you can't give up..."
"Why not?" She whimpered, unable to look at the man she loved. "Why shouldn't I just give up?"
"You can't give up," he told her softly, turning her face back to him, "because I never will."
He saw the look in her eyes and knew he had said enough. It wasn't like he had told her that she would get out, but he had given her some strength to carry on. He felt his chest tighten and had to try hard to stop himself from crying. He hated to send her back, knowing that she was being mistreated. He wanted nothing more than to tear the collar off her neck and take her away from all of this, but as heartbreaking as it was, he knew he had to leave her.
"I'll be in touch when I know more." He told her. "Until then, stay safe."
"Dillon!" She called after him. She got a thought as he turned to leave. She still couldn't imagine how she was going to maintain the strength to carry on. She had to find something to occupy her mind, and she had an idea. "Could you have something sent to me?"
"What?" He asked her. Summer looked over to where Mouse was working away across the street. Mouse had told her that she didn't know how the money that had been embezzled from the Education Authority had gone through her account.
"I wanted a case file to look at." She told him. "It's a fraud case, 100,000 credits stolen from the Education Authority about a year and a half ago."
"I'll see what I can do." He replied, a little curious as to what she could want with an old case file. "Stay strong Summer."
As he left, Mouse came back over to her friend's side and smiled.
"Now there's a man worth putting your faith in." She told her. "Come on, we've wasted enough time here."
Summer watched him leave, and couldn't help smiling. If there was an answer, if there was something missing that she didn't know about, she knew that Dillon wouldn't rest until he found it. As hopeless as everything seemed, she couldn't help feeling good to know that her friends were doing everything they could to help her. They weren't giving up on her as she had first believed. They still had faith that she hadn't committed murder. She just wished she was as sure.