Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I do not own Pokemon or related trademarks.

Language and violence warning:

Tristan slumped over the steering wheel as soon as he brought the car to a stop at the precinct. What the fuck was I thinking?! he thought to himself. I'm supposed to be working together with the Saffron police, not trying to cave their chests in!

"Victoria's going to be so pissed when she finds out," he groaned aloud.

Still hurting and having a hard time catching his breath, Frank fished his cellphone out of his pocket before driving out of the parking lot at the workout center. He dialed Angela Wikstrom's number and waited. After a few rings, she answered. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Wikstrom, this is Detective Caldwell. I forgot to ask you a question yesterday and I was wondering if you can maybe remember something for me."

"OK, what is it?"

"Do you remember ever having trouble with someone with a shaved head around the time Jeremy disappeared?"

"Oh god."

"What?"

"Esteban is his name. Esteban Soriano. He was always coming by and causing us problems. I still don't know why."

"Right. I'll call you back if anything comes up."

Tristan was sitting at Frank's desk, trying not to make eye contact as the human detective walked over to Alex. Victoria and Stuart were looking over the Gengar's shoulder as he made a futile effort to go through digital copies of various police reports on his computer. "Any luck?"

"Not even close," said Alex, sadly. "You?"

"Think I can get you to check out a suspect for me?"

"Got a name?"

"Esteban Soriano."

"Sure, give me a minute."

"Fine. Victoria, can I talk to you for a second?" He jerked his thumb around the corner.

"Why?" she asked.

"Just c'mon, all right?"

Victoria sighed. "Fine."

She followed him around the corner, and no sooner was Frank certain that they were out of Tristan's earshot than he spun on his heels to face her. "What the hell did you tell your boyfriend about us for?!"

Victoria recoiled. "What are you talking about?"

"Son of a bitch showed up while I was working out and damn near crushed my fucking chest in!"

"B-but what did I do?!"

"He was going on and on about the two of us, and there's only one way he could've known about and that's if YOU told him, because I sure as hell have never told anybody!"

Victoria was shaking with fear. "I didn't even want to come back here to begin with! I knew it'd come out somehow!"

"Oh, great! Thanks a lot, Victoria! You just got me on his little shit list!"

"I didn't mean to, Frank! Honest, I didn't!"

"Uh, is everything all right?"

Frank shot a fierce glare at Alex, who had walked in on the argument. "What?!"

"I did a check on Soriano. Stuart and Agent O'Meara have already seen the results. You two need to check as well."

Frank sighed, glared at Victoria, who had a look of shame on her face, then followed the Gengar towards the computers, the Gardevoir following close behind.

"Here's a sheet for ya: drug possession, drug distribution, armed robbery, assault and battery, you name it, it's up there. How the hell he didn't do more time than he has is beyond me."

"He have any aliases?" Hopfmar asked, having walked in as Frank and Victoria had gotten to the computer.

"Yeah, a whole shitload of them, one of which he's currently working under. Got his last known address and his current work address."

"Bring him in," Hopfmar ordered.

"I'm taking Stuart with me," Frank immediately announced, walking for the door.

Stuart watched him walk away, then turned to the others and shrugged in confusion.

The home improvement chain store was busy with customers looking for things for their do-it-yourself projects as Frank, Stuart, Tristan, and Victoria walked in, followed by several other officers. Tristan and Victoria had said nothing to each other on the drive there, although Tristan had a feeling, judging solely from her behavior, that her ex-lover had blown a fuse in front of her, and justifiably so. Stuart, meanwhile, was unable to get Frank to explain his unusual behavior as they came to a stop in the parking lot.

As they scoured the store, Tristan spotted a man in the store's uniform putting boxes of screws from a cart onto shelves. His shirt collar was not enough to conceal several tattoos that peeked out from underneath, and there was nary a trace of stubble on top of his head. He had a thin, dark goatee that stood out against his skin, dark and indicative of a Latino heritage. With somewhat well-muscled arms, he didn't look like he was middle-aged.

Tristan nudged Frank. "I think that's him."

"Esteban Soriano?" Frank called.

Soriano's head spun around, and the moment he spotted the detectives, he shoved the cart of screws towards them.

Frank pushed it aside and Tristan and Stuart shoved it over on its side as they gave chase. Soriano rounded a corner but then turned and ran back down the aisle he had been going after Victoria sped towards him, Glock drawn. He shoved down a display of gloves, forcing Frank to jump over them. The detective landed on his feet and kept running.

Soriano then shoved a set of plastic steps in his path, but Frank ran up them and leapt through the air.

And that was when he saw the forklift suddenly coming down the aisle in front of him.

This is going to hurt, he thought, ruefully.

The driver hit the brakes, but it was too late. Frank's right shoulder hit the lift on the machine and he fell to the ground screaming and thrashing as a searing pain tore through him.