A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.

This chapter goes out to all my reviewers, and especially Julu. Thanks!

Chapter 4: Bakery

Percy was the first to the coffeeshop on the day of their next meeting, determined not to be late again. He claimed a table and sat, mulling over the case of a muggle who'd been bitten by an as yet unknown wer-wolf. The photographs from the injury were...unpleasant, to say the least. Percy sipped his tea determinedly, willing his stomach not to wrench, and turned to the sketch.

Audrey pushed through the door, running a hasty hand through her hair. She'd been more than pleased to receive yet another call from Mr. Weasley, however condescending he might be. He was her ticket to justice. She paused at the counter to order, then scanned the room. The distinct flaming red head was bent over a table in the corner. She made her way to him, tapping on the table as she set down her bag.

He glanced up at her arrival and hastily snapped shut whatever he'd been doing. She got a good enough glimpse to see that it was not her father's case. At least she hoped not. It was hard to tell, seeing as the pictures were upside down from her angle, but it looked like a badly mangled human body. She sat stiffly. "I hope I'm not early-I mean, not too early."

He shuffled papers and moved things aside. "No, no, I was just...working." He pushed aside the folder and dug for her father's, pulling it out momentarily. "Now." He took a breath. "Miss Bones."

"Audrey."

He glanced at her with a quirked brow. "Er...Audrey." He preferred not to address others so casually. The way he said it made it come out sounding like 'odd-ree'. He went on.

"Miss...Audrey." He launched into his line of questioning. They were all acidulously dull questions, and none gave him any real results. At last, and with acute disappointment, he set down his muggle-made pencil.

He gave Audrey a moment to sip her tea as he surreptitiously ran a hand over his face. Nothing. Still no motive. He rubbed his eyebrow, only half aware of what he was doing.

She was watching him, and he quickly dropped his hand. "Pardon? Did you say something?"

"No." She glanced down. "That's about the tenth time this afternoon you've rubbed your eyebrow like that."

He paused. "Oh. It's...a nervous habit."

"Obviously."

She sounded pleasant, and he didn't feel the need to defend himself. He let the statement pass, mulling over his options.

Abruptly, he spoke. "I'd like to see the crime scene." Even if it had been going on eighteen months since the murder, he wanted to have a look. "That is...I was wondering if you could show me...as you were there..." Perhaps, just perhaps, she might remember something new?

She set down her mug and nodded. "Certainly. I know the place well...As a kid, I spent all my time at the restaurant. I was practically born there." She shook her head and returned to the topic. "Beck, the manager, would let us in anytime. And I suppose you have a badge for these sorts of things..."

He did have a Ministry card that he could use in the Muggle world, but he wasn't quite comfortable using it. And she'd be going with him anyways. "Copacetic. When do you think we could get in?"

"About anytime." She said.

"Tonight?"

She looked surprised.

"Unless you're doing something?" He felt oddly like he was asking her on a date. He was asking her to take him to a crime scene, for Godric's sake.

"No, nothing." She said. "We could have Beck leave us a key, but I think we'd better wait until they close. I'd hate to come in on them during the dinner rush, or at clean-up."

"What time, then?"

Audrey hesitated. The restaurant wouldn't be vacant until at least eleven, but she didn't figure he'd be crazy about working that late. He had to have a life, after all.

She glanced at the bespectacled, befreckled ginger with the awkward vocabulary.

Well, he might have a life.

Possibly.

"The restaurant closes at ten, does it not? And the employees leave an hour following?" He cut into her thoughts.

"Yes."

"Perhaps then?"

"Sure...I mean, if it's not too late. We could always go by on a closed day. You must have better things to do with your evenings."

He gave an indistinct reply and wrote something down. "Eleven tonight. Agreeable?"

"Fine by me." She shrugged.

"Copacetic. I shall meet you there." He began stuffing things into his briefcase.

Audrey bade Beck a good night and watched her walk to her car with the promise she'd close up when she and Percy were done. She leant back against the steel countertop and rubbed her eyes wearily. It was late and she was tired, and eager to go home.

A rap on the door made her open her eyes. She unlocked and opened the door to let him in. He glanced around quickly. "Thank you." She noted with some wry annoyance that he didn't look any more tired than usual, though after contemplation she was forced to admit that meant little, seeing as every time she'd seen him he looked some degree of exhausted. Poor bloke needed more sleep. Less murder might help, too.

She nodded in response and turned away, determined to stay awake and focused. "The bakery's this way."

He followed her back, glancing about. "They came in through that door we just entered through?" He asked.

"As far as we know." She replied. She knew the case backwards. The Weasley seemed to expect nothing less. "There weren't any signs of forced entry of course, so they assumed whoever it was had a key."

"Of course." He said absentmindedly.

The bakery was tucked away, separate from the rest of the kitchen. Percy entered and glanced around at the thick table in the center, the several massive ovens, and the stored pans beneath the counters.

"He was there?"

"Yes." On the opposite side of the table, right around the middle of the floor. "He was cleaning the table." She said. "There was a rag..." She shook her head and pushed the thought away. She could distinctly remember insignificant little details about the scene. The rag on the table. The basket of napkins that was always kept just beneath the left-hand counter. The shoes the investigator had been wearing when he stood over her father. Someone had been chewing gum. She hated gum.

Concentrate, she willed herself. Even if this means nothing, at least pull yourself together.

"You say you come here often?"

"Yes, ever since I was a baby." She replied.

"Was anything out of order that night?"

"Nothing I noticed."

"Would you remember?" He asked softly. She gave him a look.

"I remember it all very clearly." She said. "Nothing stolen, nothing touched. Just...him. They only came for him."

Percy noted her word usage. They came. She was still hung on the idea of murder.

He asked more questions, walked around, all to no avail, and they both knew it.

She watched him study the room through his glasses, then trained her eyes on the tiles of the floor. She'd used to love this room. The way it smelt. This was where her parents had met, both of them cooks. When she was a girl she used to play hide-and-seek. She would always hide in the piles of clean napkins, and her father always knew just where to look for her. This, she thought ruefully, was where she and he had first met, and it was the last time she had seen him. Dead on the floor.

Snap out of it, she told herself firmly. Think like Mum.

She stood in silence until at last, the Weasley put away his notebook. "Copacetic." He said. "That will be all."

"When can I expect to hear from you again?" She asked as she led him back outside and locked the back door.

"Soon." He said vaguely.

She waited a moment for him to elaborate. He did not seem the type to explain himself, so she finally just nodded. "All right, then." She glanced ruefully at the bus stop across the street.

He followed her gaze. "When does your bus arrive?"

"A quarter hour."

"And you're waiting here alone?"

"Yes." She caught his glance and shrugged. "It's a safe neighborhood..." She began to defend herself, and then paused. "Most of the time." Her last words were murmured as she looked away again.

He rubbed his eyebrow, sighed, and seemed to resign himself. "Fine. I'll wait with you."

"You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do." His professional annoyance silenced her, and she shrugged. "All right, then." She started across the wet street and seated herself on the bench. Cars honked a few blocks away, but this street was silent. Audrey gazed at the alley behind the restaurant, the trash bins making odd shapes in the dark.

Percy sat beside her. He had work to do, reports to write. But he'd have to wait-of course. What else could he do? He knew, of course, that there were no Death Eaters on this street. If it had been Ginny, he would have let her stay and wait alone. But Audrey was not Ginny. Ginny had a temper and a wand. Audrey probably had a can of pepper spray and nothing more, as she seemed a bit devoid on the temper part. So, hex it all, he was going to sit here and wait with her for her idiotic muggle bus that ran on a schedule instead of just coming when it was called.

He looked over at Audrey. She'd leant her head back against the bench and closed her eyes, and he realized suddenly what time it was. Simply because he couldn't sleep for nightmares did not mean the same for her. She looked pale, but he reminded himself it was probably just the garish Muggle light. He let his gaze slide over her face, so unlike her father's, and then down her throat. She had a nice throat.

What in the name of Rowena's hairbrush? She had a nice throat? Charlie had to be rubbing off on him. He looked ahead at the street and focused on thinking thoughts in the logical style Percival Weasley.

Though admittedly, there was nothing illogical about that statement. She did have...oh bugger it, Percy told himself, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

Audrey opened her eyes and glanced over at him to find him scowling at the pavement. "I'm sorry you're having to wait." She said.

"I don't have to wait." He reminded her.

"Well, than thank you."

He shrugged. "My apologies for dragging you out late."

"I don't mind." She responded ruefully. "Anything it takes."

He glanced over at her. "Miss Bones."

"Audrey."

"Yes...you ought to prepare yourself. I cannot promise you that the killer will be found. It is a very unusual and difficult case. There is a possibility that we will never know." He fixed his gaze firmly on her, hoping she did not burst out into denial, anger, or worse; tears. She was staring at him oddly, almost incredulously. He wet his lips and hurried on. "But you may rest assured, that whomever it is has not struck once. Such criminals never do. He is likely already in apprehension on an unrelated charge." He nodded, trying to make her feel better.

Her tone was quiet. "Are you talking about homicide?"

He stopped. Vollydort's pinstripes, had he said that much? It was hope, that incredulous look on her face, and he bit down hard on his tongue. The damage was done, she knew it was a murder investigation.

He looked at her for a long moment. She was pleading, almost. "I believe," he began slowly, "That your father was killed by…an organization, for an as yet unknown reason."

"A gang?"

"Something like that." He said vaguely. "But as the case is under investigation, I recommend to you that you mention our official suspicions to no one. I would be careful even what you mention to Madam Bones."

She could have kissed him right then. "Thank you, thank you so much...As pathetic as it sounds, this is probably the best news I've had since he died."

He shook his head. "Utterly understandable."

"Can I tell my mother?"

He shrugged. "You may, but I would advise care in your wording. Though we may trace the crime to the organization, we may never be given an opportunity to identify or apprehend the actual felon." Names, faces, Death Eaters rolled through his mind. All but Malfoy were already in Azkaban.

"That's close enough for me." She said. "Closer to the truth than I've got in a long time." To know why...She hesitated. "Do you know why he was killed? Did they want something from him?"

For the love of all that's enchanted, I don't know! Percy wanted to scream. Why, why, why, had been banging against the inside of his head for long enough and now he was getting it from her, too. "That is classified." He said stiffly.

"Oh." She was instantly compliant. "Of course, I won't ask." She didn't even seem to mind that he had just broken the news they might never find justice. She was beaming. "Thank you so much." She said again. "I mean, even as pathetic as it may sound."

Percy didn't think it sounded pathetic, but he didn't say that. After he had killed Augustus Rookwood, Charlie had thrown his arms around him and wept out his thanks. To Percy's mind, Audrey was taking this all very calmly compared to that. He cleared his throat uncomfortably all the same and nodded. "Well, it's all in the line of work." He said distantly, feeling relief steal through him as her bus rolled around the corner. To be honest, conversations with her were stressful. As sorry as he was for her father, his blasted murder was wreaking havoc on Percy's ability to think straight.

She stood, seeing the bus come. "All right, then. I...I can't wait to tell my mother. And I promise I won't get her hopes up. It's just nice to have someone who takes me seriously, you know?"

"I know." He nodded and they shook hands.

"Good night." She seemed tempted to say thank you yet again, but stifled the urge and turned to board.

"Good night." He let her roll away into the night before melting onto the bench again and apparating home.

Lucy Bones shuffled wearily down the hall in her nightrobe, a familiar smell filling the air. Audrey was baking chocolate chip cookies.

"Audie, it is one in the morning." She said wearily. Not that she could complain. There was no question where Audrey had gotten her baking habits. Cookies in the night meant a good mood that could not wait until morning to be expressed.

She was seated on the counter, nonchalantly spreading frosting over a cookie. "Guess what?"

"What is it?"

"Weasley said that they think Dad was killed by a gang or something like that."

There was a long pause.

"I mean, not that I'm happy about that..." Audrey began.

"No." Her mother nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. That's wonderful. So it is a homicide we're looking at. And he thinks a gang..." She thought over the times she'd spoken with the detective.

Audrey was gazing at her.

"Don't, I know what you want to say, and no, I don't know how I can be so calm." Lucy informed her, dragging her attention back to her daughter. "I'm glad you're excited." She looked ruefully at the cooling sheet of cookies. "These will go straight to my hips." She reached for one anyways. "I like this Weasley." She mused. "Do you know any more?"

"No. He knows more, I can tell. But he was close-mouthed about it all."

"Well, let's have him over, see what we can drag out of him, hm?"

"Absolutely." Audrey agreed, smiling devilishly enough that Lucy wondered just how much chocolate she had eaten. "Go to bed."

"Mum! I'm twenty-one!"

"Now!"

"Fine..." She ducked the swatted dish towel and tripped off to the shower.