Chapter Twelve: I've Got a Theory

The safe house wasn't what Lindsey expected. Then again, she had been fully prepared for a padded cubicle, but was satisfied with her new living quarters. Gordon had led her down a set of stairs she hadn't known existed and true to his word, she found herself in a small condominium setup.

They entered through a small, fully equipped kitchen with wine red colored walls, tan cabinets, and a matching table with four chairs. Next came the living room, which was small yet comfortable. Three rooms and one bathroom filled the next hall.

Monica and Angela were already in the living room sitting silently on the couch. Monica's face looked stone cold and stoic, a cross between infuriation and shock. Angela's eyes were pink and slightly puffy. The ignored television was playing a movie Lindsey did not recognize.

She tentatively took a seat between the girls. Gordon cleared his throat and only Angela and Lindsey looked at him to show he had their attention.

"I'll uh, leave you girls here. If there's anything you need, there are call buttons in the kitchen right next to the front door and next to this TV."

Lindsey and Angela nodded; Monica stared straight ahead. Gordon awkwardly left through the way he came.

"I'll be right back," Lindsey said quietly. Bruce had made her promise to call him when she got to the safe house.

"Lindsey?" Bruce answered. Lindsey nodded; momentarily forgetting he could not see her, "Yeah. I'm here."

"Everything ok? If it's not, you know I can get you out of there."

Lindsey sighed, "I really shouldn't leave the girls. The place is actually pretty nice."

Bruce was silent for a few seconds before saying softly, "You'll be out of there soon."

"I'm not in a jail cell. It really is just like a house."

"I know, babe," Lindsey could hear the smile in his voice, "Check in again when the phone's available."

Lindsey nodded again before voicing her affirmation and hanging up. Gordon had explained on the way down that the phone would only be accessible certain hours when the system was made untraceable.

Lindsey trudged back into the living room. Angela was looking through the cabinet underneath the TV for more movies. Lindsey took a seat next to Monica, who hadn't moved an inch.

"This is crap," Monica murmured, "All of this."

Lindsey gently grabbed one of Monica's hands and gave it a squeeze. Monica tightly shut her eyes and explained just above a whisper, "I should've stayed with him."

Lindsey nodded and allowed Monica to unload.

"That night…I went to see Dom. He was alone since his parents were working. And I mean, you remember, he was doing terrible. Even worse now than ever…"

"Dom, stay strong. We need you to stay with us," Monica tried to reason with Dominic as they sat in his backyard. Dominic rested his head in his hands, "I don't think I can."

Monica began rubbing his back consolably, "This will all work out in the end, Dom. The police – Gordon – they've got a few leads. They'll find him. We'll be safe again."

Dominic laughed and sat upright, "Convince yourself that and I might start believing it."

"Well I have to believe it to keep you from doing something stupid," Monica snapped, "What do you have to gain from offing yourself, huh?"

"To save myself from him-"

"And put the rest of our lives in danger?" Monica yelled over him, "Real smart. Real damn considerate! That's exactly what would happen too! He'd just skip over you and get to the rest of us."

"Then it would all be over," Dominic concluded morosely, "That's what needs to happen to keep anyone else from getting hurt."

"Do you really think the Joker is just going to stop Joker-ing with us? You think after he kills the last of us he's going to set down his weapons, wipe off the makeup, wash out the green shit, and say 'Peace and Love to all humankind?'"

"Maybe you should go," Dominic implied softly, "I appreciate you stopping by, but I need to be alone."

Monica huffed and sat up from the bench, "Fine. I'll be back tomorrow though."

"I'll be here," Dominic answered with an involuntary smile. Monica stood shocked for a moment before nodding. "Take care of yourself," she hollered over her shoulder once she reached her purple PT Cruiser.

"Mon, you can't blame yourself," Lindsey reasoned, "You did what you could do. You were there for him when you could be."

Monica snorted, "Bullshitting him all the way through his last hours was all I did."

"It wasn't bullshit…not exactly," Lindsey trailed off, consuming herself in thought. Angela looked over her shoulder at the sudden silence. "Thinking, Brooks?"

"Yeah…" Lindsey answered absently, suddenly remembering what she had witnessed in the interrogation room, "Gordon may not have a lead yet, but I think we can get him one."

"How?" Angela asked, now facing the other girls. Monica seemed uninterested.

"That tape," Lindsey answered, "That first one!"

Angela picked up one of the old video tapes and read out loud, "The Rugrats Movie is going to help?"

Monica snorted again and Lindsey stared at the blonde incredulously before shaking her head, "No! The security cam footage!"

"The one with you in it?" Angela asked. Lindsey jumped up from her seat and began pacing, "Yeah. It's all connected. The parking lot, the house, the guy in the office, they're the same person…"

"What are you getting at?" Monica mumbled, still indifferent but rather annoyed.

"Look, the man knew something was going to happen to Dominic. He knew about John and everyone else and he was threatening the lives of people I love and the three of us. I think I know who this man is and if I'm right, who knows, this whole thing could be over really fast."

Angela sighed, looking more exasperated by Lindsey's ramblings by the second, "Lindsey, how are you planning on stealing – which you are ultimately doing – a security camera tape?"

Monica nodded in a rare occasion in which she agreed with the blonde, "Yeah, and you will get caught. In case you didn't know you're not exactly on Gordon's good side."

Lindsey laughed sardonically, "Am I on anyone's good side? You know we probably don't even have to sneak in. Gordon might expect me to do something like this. He shouldn't be too shocked."

"Which could turn out worse for you," Monica warned, "He could already have extra security around to keep us out of there…wherever the hell you're wanting to explore."

"The storage closet in the interrogation room," Lindsey answered as if she'd been rehearsing, "I saw another officer put a crate of tapes in when I was talking to Gordon earlier. And I wouldn't be stealing it. I'm pretty sure there's a TV crammed in there somewhere. That interrogation room is just a big closet."

The other girls merely stared at Lindsey for a minute or two before Angela finally piped up, "I'm in."

Monica snorted, staring up at the blonde as if she just claimed to have found the cure for cancer. "Are you serious?"

Angela nodded, not looking at Monica, "The three of us need to stick together. If Lindsey wants to go down in a stupid way like this, then we will too."

"Preachy," Monica mumbled. Angela sneered at her, "Bitchy."

"So how about it, Mon?" Lindsey asked artfully, "At least just humor me."

"We get caught and I'm singing like a canary that it was all your idea, Brooks," Monica droned dripping with cynicism. Lindsey smiled widely, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Ok, I think this is it," Lindsey announced, pulling out a tape from the recycle pile. They had called asking for "personal hygienic items" and waited for the attendant to leave, making sure the door hadn't shut all the way, and snuck down the hallway with Lindsey in the lead to the smallest interrogation room.

Monica leaned uncomfortably against the door, "How do you know?"

"It says the date of that Friday. It's gotta be it."

Lindsey rolled a small TV out of the closet and plugged it in to the wall. She popped the tape inside the VCR and sure enough, she was reliving the parking lot incident.

"There's no sound…how do you know it's him?" Angela asked over Lindsey's shoulder.

"Hold on…" Lindsey watched intently as one of the men approached her on the screen. She hit pause as the man's face was directed right toward the camera. She leaned in closer and observed him.

"It must be the other guy," she stated softly. Monica groaned, "Linds, just...I'm really not understanding you right now."

Lindsey sighed dramatically and sat back on the floor. "The two guys I…encountered that night- the first time I was on the news- I'm almost positive they were the clown men who broke in and attacked me that night at Bruce's penthouse. The one we're seeing here," she pointed to the man on the screen, "must've been the one the Joker shot…so the one in the van is the one I hammered and the one who cornered me at Bruce's office. They had to have been working for the Joker."

Angela's gaze flicked from the irritated and tired Monica to the jittery Lindsey. She held out a hand for the latter, "Lindsey, I think you're one of those people who weren't made for Starbucks."

"Or caffeine," Monica added under her breath. Instead of taking Angela's help up, Lindsey sat cross-legged and glared at the two, "I'm perfectly fine! It's just all coming together now! The man at the office said that I caught the Joker's attention from the article and the parking lot thing being shown on the news. If these two were working with the Joker at the time…"

Monica used the remote to replay the footage until Bruce's appearance. With narrowed eyes, she continued Lindsey's theory, "Then they would've known you had some sort of connection with Bruce Wayne and told the Joker."

Lindsey nodded, but leaned back with her hands on the floor bracing her, "I just don't see how Bruce fits in here. I mean Joker doesn't seem like he's after money."

"Maybe he's gay," Monica offered with a face of perfect sincerity, "And finds Bruce irresistible."

Angela scrunched her nose as Monica's insinuation, "Or Bruce is Batman."

Lindsey snorted. Monica just rolled her eyes and snapped back, "Or you're Batman."

"So?" came Angela's reply. Lindsey and Monica began laughing at the petty comeback, and Angela reluctantly joined.

"Ok," Monica said through continuous laughter, "Were you being serious? About Bruce Wayne being Batman?"

"He could be," Angela defended, "Anyone could be. I actually think he's Gordon."

"If I were Batman," the man in question announced as he entered the room, "I'd solve global warming and build my daughter her Barbie Dream House. That's not happening though."

Lindsey could only smile and wave.