In the office

"I knew we should have hand cuffed her!" Reeves shouted and Don glared.

"It's not my fault. We never officially arrested her because she never needed to be officially arrested. That's why she never resisted!" He groaned and hit his head with the palm of his hand. "I should have know something was wrong!"

"Well, she did leave us a note." Reeves said, holding up the note pad.

"An encrypted note. It must go through at least four different languages, and all of them are fake!" he groaned and Charlie knocked on the door.

"Don?" he called, softly, like a mouse. Don swung, trying not to let his bad mood project on his brother.

"Hey, you figure out that algorithm for finding the missing glove, yet?" he asked and Charlie frowned, looking down.

"No, but I do have some other evidence." He mumbled. "I think your prime suspect just walked out of the building." They both grimaced at his words.
"We know, we just found out." Colby said sullenly.

"She did leave us this." Don said and handed the paper to Charlie. He took it and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a really simple encryption called the civil alphabet cipher. Every letter has a number, such as one is A, two is B, three is- Oh." He mumbled and grimaced. "Those aren't real words."

"They are, but they're in another code." Reeves said. "Maybe you could do something with it." Charlie raised his eyebrows then winced.

"I'll see. Maybe Larry can help. Or Amita. They'll know more about this than I will." He sighed and started to take the paper.

"Wait." Don sighed and tore off the sheet, copying the same sequence. "We get the original for evidence." He said and handed his brother the copy. Charlie looked a little annoyed by this but didn't complain as he strode off looking at the numbers and chewing his thumb nervously.

"How are you holding up?" Don called as an afterthought. Charlie looked up and turned.

"Hmm?"

"I know you went on a date with Roxi in the first place. Phoebe was able to analyze you from the moment she saw you." Charlie raised his eyebrows and grimaced.

"It went pretty badly. She was really confident and I was . . . my usual self." He sighed and Don grimaced. "Not to mention I'm the reason she got attacked anyways." He added and Don shook his head.

"It wasn't meant to be. Nothing that happened was your fault. It was all the attackers fault, be it Phoebe or someone else." Charlie seemed a little less disheartened but didn't straighten up as he exited. Don returned his attention to the others and sighed.

"Alright I want code crackers running this until it's done. Meanwhile David and Colby will go and check out this ex boyfriend. I'll go check out Roxi's roommate to see if there's anything she used to keep track of all those boyfriends while Megan looks up Roxi's phone records. Send a guard over to Phoebe's place and pick her up for holding if she goes back."

"Um, Don." David whispered and he looked up.

"What?"

"Isn't it protocol to use the victim's full name?" he asked and Don frowned.

"Wha'd I say?"

"Roxi. It's Roxanne Kyle, Don." Megan whispered and he shook his head.

"Sorry. Phoebe must have been saying it so much I just . . ." he trailed off then glared.

"Well? Get going!" he snapped and they all scattered while he rubbed his head.

He hit himself with the palm of his hand again for good measure.

Back on Campus

I knew the person who framed me would be surprised to see me again, and I knew I would be able to catch them on camera, but I wasn't exactly welcome on campus anymore. This meant I had to be careful who I tried to snap a photo of.

There was Kelsey, Roxi's flat mate, but she undoubtedly was going to have cops and reporters all around her. She loved attention and she would think of any bull crap to make them keep an eye on her. Then there was Rory, Jake Finn's ex girlfriend. A girl he cheated on . . . with Roxi. Then Jake himself, except he wasn't the smartest guy to dress up like me, nor the right size for the costume. The mysterious teacher in the rain, but also, he wasn't the type, the way he stood suggested little self-confidence.

After that I just had to look for girls who looked like me.

How many wavy haired blondes could there be on a college campus, right?

Too many.

I groaned as I hid up in a tree, another cop car going by as I snapped pictures of all the girls who had hair and body proportions that matched the picture, and mine. I also started snapping photos of those whose hair looked like it had been cut and/or dyed recently.

I would have gone back to my stalker book if it wasn't for the guards. Luckily I managed to get a camera before the oh-so-kind agents hauled me out of my room. I looked through my pictures, trying to find any of a girl I recognized as the culprit.

"Three." I muttered and sighed. Three potential suspects, three potentially angry women. I glared and flicked back two. The first seemed strangely familiar. A girl with chopped off recently dyed black hair.

She was a perfect match. Her hair was obviously dyed black, and chopped off ruggedly, and poorly.

Sharron Rose.

"Gotcha."

In a classroom on Campus

"Charlie," Larry sighed, "this is impossible. This girl is too good!" he groaned looking through the code again. "I mean what does this even mean? It looks like the alphabet code but it just translates into garbage."

"She's not that good." Charlie muttered annoyed, "She had to have looped it through some language. What does this mean? This stupid

'20-3 8-23 15 4 11 15 8 -4 3 8-18 8 5 20 15 12 15 4 21 11 8-16'

translate to, anyways?"

"Well, assuming the dashes stand for some sort of character . . . it looks like klingon." Larry said as he frowned. "See? 't'ch'woDkoH 'D ch'rHe to loDukH'p'." he said and frowned, "But those words don't mean anything in klingon, in fact they don't even look like real words, just a scramble of letters and sounds."

"What did you say?"

"Klingon?"

"No-no-no after that. A scramble of letters and sounds, you think it might be an anagram?"

"In Klingon? That seems pretty tricky and hard to do right away, I mean, she did write this immediately after they left, almost as a second thought." Larry said leaning against a desk and rubbing his head.

"So she can immediately encode her writing." Charlie said frowning and turning to his chalkboard where the numbers and now the 'klingon' were written.

"That means it must not be in too difficult of a code, meaning she must have used another barrier." Larry said waving a hand vaguely.

"Well, Klingon has a specific way one pronounces certain letters, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So, what if these words are spelled how the words underneath them would sound in klingon?" Charlie said searching through his computer.

"But they still don't make sense." Larry frowned and Charlie squinted at the new line of words. tacawodkoh ad carhe to lodukhap.

"Maybe it's another language." Charlie suggested and Larry groaned.

"This girl's pretty amazing," He mumbled, "if she can encrypt a line of text to this extent on the spot."

"Well, if she's fluent in the language it's pretty easy to translate it." He said and typed in the phrase. Nothing came up.

"It almost looks like English." Larry pointed out. "Maybe this one is an anagram, there are a few more letters and a few less symbols. It might make more sense."

"Maybe. I'll run it through." Charlie said and returned to the computer.

"Um, Charles, maybe I should do that." Larry offered raising his eyebrows. "Don't you have a class in a few minutes?" Charlie looked up, a little bewildered.

"Is it Tuesday?" he asked and Larry gave a soft laugh.

"Yes it is, Mr. Eppes. Perhaps you should go teach your class." Larry laughed and took over the computer.

"Okay." He sighed and picked up his books before casting a nervous glance at Larry. "Are you sure because I could always cancel and-"

"Now what kind of brilliant mathematician would you be if you were to skip?" Larry laughed and Charlie gave a half smile.

"Right. Call me if you get anything." He said and turned walking out the door.

In the classroom

I sat directly behind her, six rows back. I was positive she was the girl who set me up, but she didn't know I was here yet. I eyed her, glaring when I saw her pull out a mirror and glance at her hair uneasily. She seemed uncomfortable with the short length of her hair, but she also seemed to be very . . . flirtatious. Her face was soft and smooth, but she had bags under her eyes as though she had stayed up all night. Makeup was haphazardly thrown on her face, but it was also careful, like she wanted someone's approval.

This was the girl who framed me.

But why was she primping so much? There were only a few guys in this class and none of them caught her fancy, or anyone's fancy for that matter. They were the kind of guys girls didn't make friends with because of their personality over their looks. The way they all sat so laid back made me nervous enough to want to scream, but at least I knew they were all here.

But why was this girl so damn anxious? There was nobody here to impress anyways . . . that is . . . unless the teacher-

"Alright class, sorry I'm late I got caught up in a code." Called the attractive young teacher . . . the same one from the FBI. I swore, loudly, and ducked under my desk. The teacher looked up and laughed. The girl looked around frowned, like it was shameful to interrupt his class.

"Well, I know I'm late but there's no reason for any of that." He retorted and there was a chorus of chuckles. She looked less pleased and appeared to be thinking of a way to make the same effect.

"Alright so who can tell me what the civil alphabet cipher is?" he asked and wrote the numbers on the board. The class glanced at each other blankly and I grimaced.

Damn my pride . . . I thought and peaked over the desk, It's going to get us all caught.

"Where the alphabet is turned into its corresponding number." I called and I saw several people turn to look at me, but I kept below the desk out of sight. The professor looked up to try and catch a glimpse of who had said it, but I was too well hidden.

"Very good. Now I'm going to write a series of numbers on the board and I want you all to tell me what it says." The professor finished copying a sequence on the board and I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

My code sat on the board, like it had been too difficult to figure out and I bit down hard on my fist.

"It doesn't say anything . . . well not anything reasonable!" the girl, Sharron, said after a moment and the professor smiled a little.

"Not in English. This is the same code I was working on before I came here. Now, does anyone recognize it." A girl from the front row raised her hand and I grimaced. She knew it was my code, but I don't think she knew how to crack it. The only one I had ever told how to crack it was Roxi.

God I miss her. I thought, miserably.

"That's Phoebe's code." The girl from the front said and the professor smiled.

"Absolutely right. Now, does anyone know where Phoebe is?" I again, restrained my laughter from the back row while a chorus of 'no's echoed across the hall. I could tell he was a little disappointed and I debated standing up, but I was laughing to hard I doubt I could get any words out. "Alright, do any of you know how to decipher this code?" another chorus of 'no's and a small snicker escaped my lips. The classroom looked around as the noise echoed and that made me have to bite my fist again. This was too funny.

They really had no idea how to crack my code.

"Alright, that's okay. Now the next step of the code." He wrote down the 'klingon' part and I smirked.

This part was always tricky. Certain letters in Klingon were spelled in certain ways. For instance an 'a' could be spelled with an apostrophe instead of a character. Some letters were even pronounced as others. That bit was the hardest part to learn when I first created the code. Sometimes I even had to leave the klingon spelling out in order to finish coding.

"Now who can tell me what the next step is?" Charlie smiled but no one had any idea. He took the time to explain the spelling and I stuffed my sleeve in my mouth to keep from laughing, seeing as my fist was bleeding now. "No one?" he asked again and Sharron raised her hand desperately.

"Why don't you just ask who made the code?" she retorted and I froze. Did they know I was in here or was she just asking a stupid question?

"Well," the teacher said smiling, "The person who wrote this, Phoebe Weiland, isn't available right now." I relaxed, restraining a sigh as I leaned back against the desk. The professor then began to explain the next step and I glared at my shoes. The likely hood was that kids would tell everyone how to decipher my code now and soon everyone would know it.

Luckily, once he finished the step he was stopped dead in his tracks.

"Is it true she got arrested?" someone asked and the whole class went silent. The scratch of the chalk ceased and I risked a peak to see Sharron's reaction. She was stiff, frozen, like someone had petrified her. The shock of the conversation made her tremble a little.

"I wouldn't know." The professor said with a nervous chuckle and everyone glanced at one another. Once the new line of text was written out, the professor stopped and I smirked. He hadn't figured out this part yet, he didn't understand what next to do.

"Here's where I stopped working. Does anyone recognize something here?" I couldn't hold back anymore and I chuckled. The sound resonated through the room and everyone looked around. The way the noise bounced off the walls it sounded like an evil mastermind. I didn't bother to hide but instead stood up, stepping on the desk. There were several gasps and Sharron turned.

It was in slow motion, the look of terror already on her face. She looked up and let out a blood-curdling scream. I smiled at her and leapt from my desk forward until I was able to step onto hers. I was light enough to be confident I wouldn't break the desk and I knelt on it to look her in the eye.

"You-you-you-" she stammered and I slammed my hand on the desk.

"Yesterday I recall seeing you with your hair about a foot longer and blonde. What happened? Frame me for a crime and feel like going through a change of pace?" I demanded and she fell back out of her chair.

"Help!" she squealed and I snorted.

"I won't do anything to you. I'm a fugitive already. However, you might want to confess to FRAMING me." I shouted before I turned back to the front saw that the professor was staring at me. His genuine smile was gone now and replaced with a look of fear. "Sorry to interrupt professor. But I find you're code very intriguing." I smirked but there was a bang from behind me.

"She's here!" Don called and the professor turned his attention to the FBI agent for a moment. "Charlie, look out!" Don shouted and I leapt three desks over to the side, where another door lay, closed and I turned. Charlie? Was that the teachers name?

"Try 'Dino language'!" I laughed and burst out the door, finding a window in front of me. The hallway went both ways but the window was closest.

What floor was I on? Third? Second?

I didn't look but jumped through the window. The shattering of glass preceding the pain in my arm as I started to fall out the window. I braced myself for impact, death even, when the rustling of leaves and more pain jolted me to a stop. I had managed to land in a tree, a thin, leafy tree, but a tree nonetheless.

"Ow." I hissed, clutching my arm as I crawled from the tree and looked up.

Third floor.

"Holy Hell." I swore and jumped the last couple of feet. I was lucky. If that tiny tree hadn't been there I would have probably hurt more than my arm. A head poked from the top window.

Charlie the professor.

I wiggled the fingers of my good arm at him, hissed a little and jogged off, clutching my arm. I think he called something after me, but I ignored it and ducked out of sight.

Now, even though I had found Sharron and I knew she had framed me, though I didn't know why she framed me, and I didn't know why she had even committed the crime in the first place.

I needed evidence, and I needed it fast . . . because, I needed treatment.