You guys wanted Lt. Flynn back, and some answers from Tao ... ;)

A Tangled Web (5)

A website with loud colors and pixelated animations flashed at them on Lt. Tao's computer screen; Sharon grimaced at the jarring effect.

"Zero Footprint…" she read the page title, and frowned. "Donnell referred to that, on the video."

The lieutenant nodded. "I looked it up the first time, but this site was too low on the hit list and there wasn't anything to connect it to our victim… since we didn't know anything about Mr. Donnell this morning. But after I added his name to the search, this suddenly jumped out."

"I'm assuming that annoyingly cryptic name stands for something..." Provenza glared at the flashy screen, which was about to give him a migraine. "Because last time I checked, 'zero' wasn't a real foot size. Unless our man was secretly a Lilliputian..." he rolled his eyes, earning himself a look from both the Captain and Tao.

"Uh, no," Mike cleared his throat. "The 'footprint' part refers to the ecological footprint, which is essentially a way to measure the effect of human demands on natural ecosystems. Like the carbon footprint, for instance, which measures how much carbon dioxide is emitted into the atmosphere by human activities."

The look on Provenza's face was a story onto itself. "He jumped off a bridge because of carbon emissions?"

"Er – probably not," replied Tao. "But he did found this website as a forum to explain to people how to make less of an ecological impact on the planet. Live alongside nature and all that. There are dozens of blog entries detailing how to change one's habits to lead a cleaner… greener… life."

"And yet he lived in LA," Provenza said dryly. "Not that I don't love our fair city," (his eyebrows arched derisively,) "but it's not exactly a green eco-friendly haven."

"Donnell seemed to agree with you," nodded the younger lieutenant. "Most of his entries are precisely on how people in LA should do things differently. There are several diatribes on what the city council is doing wrong, too… a few condemnations of the new landscaping laws… but, here, these are the ones you might find interesting." He pulled up a handful of pages, cascading them on the screen. "He talks about the city's traffic problems, the water shortage, the commercial areas taking over residential neighborhoods... and here, you can see some phrases that sound familiar."

He pressed a few keys, and red rectangles highlighted strings of words here and there on the open pages. Sharon's brow creased.

"Social pressure, impulse-driven behavior, context shift – these are all things he talked about right before he jumped."

Tao nodded again. "They're part of his argument that a lot of our city's resource problems come from people being stuck in a vicious cycle of destructive behaviors... and that social measures and impulse control would basically help everyone break free from that cycle and start improving their footprint. Saving energy, reducing emissions, being more socially conscious... it's a pretty well-written argument, actually." He shrugged at Provenza's dry look. "It is."

"Don't tell me you agree with him now," the white-haired lieutenant groaned.

"No, but he does raise some interesting points, and he seems to have a decent grasp of crowd psychology and collective behavior... anyway," he hurried to say at Provenza's exasperated look, "this is probably what he was talking about on the bridge."

"It certainly seems that way." Sharon had finished skimming the pages on the screen. "Do any of his posts recommend blowing up public sites as a way to reduce the city's 'footprint'?"

"I haven't read them all," said Tao, "but from a basic keyword search, it doesn't seem like it. The overall tone is more persuasive than preachy or angry. There are no mentions of meetings or offensive measures, and definitely nothing as extreme as bomb threats... 'Zero Footprint' seems to be just an opinion blog, mostly."

She let out a slow breath, frowning still. "Then why," she murmured, "would he mention the bomb threats in the first place...?"

"Because he was drunk, and his brain was all scrambled," sighed Provenza. Noticing her expression, he shook his head: "You're not thinking that there's something to his ranting...?"

Sharon crossed her arms, glancing back at the murder board. "What I'm thinking, Lieutenant, is that six hours ago this was an intoxicated suicidal madman who'd jumped off a bridge shouting nonsense... and now he's a young man with a steady job, no history of drugs or mental problems, and a website that puts his 'ranting' into worrisome perspective." She arched her eyebrows. "I'm thinking that I want to know more about what Mr. Donnell was up to in his spare time... and I really want to know what toxin 'scrambled his brain'...and how he came into contact with it."

When Buzz entered the squad room a couple of minutes later, it was easy to tell from his slumped shoulders and bleak expression that he was not thrilled to be back. He glanced at the rest of them, and sighed as he greeted: "Captain…"

She gave him a sympathetic expression, while Provenza looked up from his desk.

"Don't look so glum, Buzz. Sure, you're missing your play," he held out both hands in a coaxing gesture, "but you get to spend the afternoon with Flynn and me, looking for vital evidence that Captain Planet here wasn't a radical eco nut."

That somehow lacked the persuasive power that the lieutenant may have intended; Buzz's face only grew more doubtful.

"I think I preferred the theater…"

Tao glanced over his shoulder. "Well, with Flynn and Provenza, you're probably gonna get a show, too."

Sharon pressed her lips together to contain a completely unbefitting smirk.

"Very funny, Tao," Provenza gave him a dry look. "Very funny."

"Just trying to make him feel better about missing his play... What were you going to see, anyway?"

"Twelfth Night, the musical. It's a big thing on Broadway apparently," Buzz expounded, "my cousin's school is putting up a local production. They're supposed to be pretty good… at least according to my aunt."

"Twelfth Night, the musical?" Provenza's disbelieving voice was accompanied by an eye roll. "The things they come up with... Shakespeare's probably rolling in his grave."

"Not according to the promotional posters," said Buzz. "It's supposed to be 'the way he meant it'."

That only earned him another eye roll. "You're better off with me and Flynn."

Since he couldn't agree, the blond just sighed. "I'll go get my camera ready…"

"Thank you, Buzz." Sharon nodded as he headed toward Electronics, then turned to Tao. "Is there any indication that James Donnell was living with someone? Roommates, a romantic partner? Anyone who would share his interests?"

"Nothing in the bills associated with his address, and there's no one else listed living there. On paper, he was living alone." The lieutenant shrugged. "Actually, there isn't much of a paper trail to look into. He has one bank account, one credit card – which he hasn't used since 2009 – pays his bills on time… no suspicious activity," he concluded, and one of Sharon's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"His sudden death is suspicious activity," she murmured, half to herself. "Let's see if we can find evidence in Mr. Donnell's home about anyone close to him who might know more about his life," she told Provenza. "Unlikely as it is, if he was planning any sort of environmental strike, he probably wasn't in it alone."

He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her point, but still hummed doubtfully. "This guy biked six miles to work and told people to plant more trees and take shorter showers. I'll be very surprised if he turns out to be the type to blow up train stations." He raised both eyebrows in a knowing expression. "I predict that his criminal activities might lean more toward the regulated substance abuse end of the spectrum... I'll bet we find that he liked gardening..."

It was a bad sign when Sharon found herself feeling more cynical than Provenza. "Let's keep an open mind anyway," she suggested. "And Lieutenant… as you search the house, please remember to keep an eye out for that toxin."

"Don't worry, Captain," he joked, "I'll get Flynn and Buzz back to you with their livers intact."

Despite the flippant response to her warning, she knew that once they got to the man's home, he'd be careful enough. He hadn't made it four decades on the force without knowing how to safely work a scene.

Familiar footsteps reached them from the corridor once more, and Sharon let out an imperceptible sigh of relief. Her eyes flickered to the clock one last time, as she felt her shoulders relax involuntarily.

Rusty walked in carrying a coffee cup in one hand, a large plastic bag in the other, and a smaller paper bag in the crook of his elbow. Making a beeline for Sharon, he offered her the paper bag, then started to take the plastic one over to Provenza's desk; the lieutenant immediately waved a hand.

"Unpack it on Flynn's desk."

With an almost-suppressed eye roll, the boy deposited the larger take-out bag on Lt. Flynn's desk, and proceeded to pull out a white plastic container, then a smaller round one, and finally a cup of iced tea. He wordlessly handed everything over to Provenza.

"Thank you." The lieutenant smirked. "I hope the mayo is low-fat."

Rusty sighed. "You owe Sharon $14.50," he replied.

Provenza arched amused eyebrows at the Captain. "Any interest in printing credit?" He reached for his wallet as he said it, but she waved him off.

Meanwhile, Rusty was unpacking another take-out container, along with a smaller paper bag that seemed to contain two breadsticks, and a cup of coffee. He walked them over to Tao, who also thanked him and in return was also promptly informed of the amount of money he owed Sharon. In the middle of the proceedings, Lt. Flynn also walked in, back from brunch and carrying a small bag of his own.

The lieutenant swept a quick gaze over the room, quickly reading the situation. "Huh, looks like I missed the delivery."

Rusty shot him an wry glare.

"Didn't this come with one of those little salad containers?" Provenza demanded.

With another sigh, the boy deigned to glance into the take-out bag once more, and sure enough, underneath a pile of napkins, he'd overlooked a small round plastic bowl. He handed it over to Provenza, just as Tao turned in his chair.

"Er… I think this comes with salad, too."

Rusty crossed his arms. "Seriously?"

With a disgruntled huff, he pulled everything out of the bag, dumping the napkins all over Flynn's desk (too amused at the entire scene, the lieutenant didn't bother with more than a half-hearted protest). Finally, Rusty found Lt. Tao's salad container, as well as a couple of spice bags which he distributed with a sour mien. "I feel like Buzz," he complained.

"Excuse me, I'm the civilian surveillance expert, not the delivery boy." Camera in hand, Buzz stopped in the doorway and glanced at all the take-out. "And how come I didn't get any food?"

Rusty rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You weren't even here!"

Buzz just pursed his lips in obvious disapproval of the argument. "Figures. Remember this next time you need algebra help."

"I don't need algebra help…" the boy grumbled, and the two of them made disgruntled faces at each other.

Provenza took another bite of his sandwich, glad of the two minutes of relative quiet he could enjoy before they all had to go back to their tasks. Buzz and Rusty had taken their bickering to Electronics, and Tao was too busy trying to eat with one hand and type with the other. Provenza shook his head at that – overachiever.

" – and then the kids said that they like me better than the other guy 'cause I actually ate their banana marshmallow chocolate chip muffins…"

He gave his chattering partner an oblique look. "Who the hell actually eats that, Flynn?"

"Hey, they weren't bad. They had walnuts, too. And sprinkles."

The older lieutenant shook his head; but then, he wasn't one to judge. He'd eaten plenty of his own grandkids' concoctions, a lot of them much worse than overloaded muffins. And Flynn may have had a strong allergy to the word 'grandfather', but he was acting just like one.

"Where's the Captain?" Andy looked around the murder room, as if surprised that she'd suddenly vanished while he was filling in his partner on the brunch story.

"On the phone with Sykes, getting updates." Provenza was suddenly suspicious. "Why?"

"Well…Nicole asked me to say hi, give Sharon her best. Kids, too."

The other man let out a muted groan, and resolutely directed all his attention back to the sandwich.

"And…"

Oh god, there was an 'and'.

Flynn at least has the decency to look a little uncomfortable. "Well…the kids kinda wanted to send her their muffins so she could try them. Do you think she'll be offended if…"

The groan was louder this time. "Flynn!"

"What?"

"Give me those muffins," Provenza growled.

"They're not for you."

His partner glared. "Give them."

Rolling his eyes, Andy pulled a box out of the bag he'd brought in, but didn't hand it over. "Look, the boys wanted this to go to Sharon, not you. Besides, you just said you wouldn't eat these…!"

The older lieutenant was staring silently at the box. "Is that a ribbon?"

"Wha – oh. Yeah, they wanted it to look nice. I suggested that color, the Captain seems to like it."

Provenza gritted his teeth.

"So anyway…you don't think she'll mind if I give this to her, right?"

His partner's response was a long, thoughtful hum.

"Let's tell the Captain that before we go to the man's residence, we'll go check the bridge again," Provenza suggested.

"Oh. Okay…why?"

"So I can follow Donnell's example," his conversational tone segued into a dry glare, "and jump off."

Sharon cradled the phone to her ear as she walked back into the squad room, her hands busy with her salad plate and two sets of utensils (Mario's had apparently decided to no longer include those unless one specifically asked for them – which Rusty had not.)

"Thank you, Detective. Yes. I'll let you know."

Wrapping up the conversation with Sykes, she balanced the plate and utensils in one hand so she could put the phone back in her pocket. The three lieutenants were looking at her expectantly, and she shook her head as she began to relate Amy's updates:

"The Animal Resources director barely knew James Donnell. No complaints about him as an employee, but she didn't have any information about his friends or his activities." The bad news out of the way, she moved on to the progress: "She did, however, mention that he…"

The sound of unfamiliar footsteps interrupted her, and Sharon turned around to see who had entered the murder room now. Briefly, she looked confused, needing a moment to place the face. Then her eyebrows arched.

"Officer…Cooper." It took her a second to retrieve the name, too. "What are you doing here? I thought you – oh." Suddenly she realized why the names on the earlier incident report had sounded so familiar. "You were one of the responding officers on the scene."

The young man nodded, his too-long bangs falling over his eyes as he did so. "Yes, Ma'am. Halfway through my mandatory six months of patrol." He managed to suppress a pout, but still a small grimace fleeted across his face. "Officer Ramirez and I were told you needed more information, so I'm here to help in any way I can. What do you need?"

Sharon paused for a moment; she'd forgotten about his eagerness.

"Yes… Lt. Flynn can take your statement, as soon we're done here. Lieutenant… would you please…?"

Andy walked away from Provenza's desk. "Yes, Captain. This way," he grabbed a notepad from his own desk, then motioned the former undercover 'buy guy' over to an unoccupied workspace in the far corner.

Sharon sighed. She waited a few more seconds, so that Flynn could settle their visitor and maybe listen in to the rest of her update. From his seat, Provenza gave her a long-suffering look:

"Don't they grow younger every year?"

She sighed again, then resumed: "Donnell's boss mentioned that he worked the weekend Animal Care shift. Because of the day/night cycle of most of the lab animals, they need to have their food and water changed between the hours of eight and eleven p.m.."

"So he'd have been at work right before jumping off the bridge," Tao concluded, and Sharon gave a slow nod.

"Julio and Amy are on their way back to USC to check the logs, see if he signed in last night and what time. If he did, we might be able to get a better timeline and narrow down who the last people were to see him alive."

"Most animal research facilities also have security cameras," Mike put in. "If they do, and Donnell was there last night, we should get them to send over the footage."

"Hey." In the corner, Andy tapped his hand to the table to get Officer Cooper's attention. "Eyes on that statement, kid. I don't have all day."

"Right." The young man pulled his attention away from the discussion, and looked back at the notepad in front of him. "No problem. So… what do you need to know?"

"How about everything you didn't bother to put in the incident report?" Flynn waved the flimsy paper that comprised the patrol officers' official account. "Starting with what exactly you found at the scene, and where. In detail," he added pointedly.

Cooper sighed, doing his best to school his lack of enthusiasm at the task; it took all of ten seconds for his attention to drift back to the Captain's discussion, and at the sound of a knock on the door, he stopped pretending altogether and looked up with renewed interest.

Andy rolled his eyes, and snapped his fingers, pointing again to the notepad with a no-nonsense look.

Dr. Morales was the only one who ever knocked on the murder room door. It wasn't a real knock, more of a light rap against the doorframe to announce his presence, and really he only came upstairs about once a century, so it's not like it mattered…but when he did venture onto their turf, he knocked.

Considering how many people saw her murder room as an extension of the corridor and barged in uninvited at all hours, Sharon appreciated the friendly formality.

He help up a thin file as he walked in. "I brought you a copy of the dental records… they're not the greatest, but…"

"Thank you, Doctor." Sharon smiled a little apologetically as she took he file. "We actually ID'ed our man a short while ago."

"Oh – well, it'd have been nice if someone had told me," Morales said wryly, "but, that means I'm free to go, so I'm happy. Or… as happy as I can be, having started the day analyzing bits of smashed body parts."

Turned around in his chair, Flynn snorted. "That's how you start every day," he pointed out.

"Not my days off." The doctor arched his eyebrows. "At least I didn't use to, until Major Crimes was formed," he amended. "Calling me in on Sundays seems to have become a bad habit for you people."

"When we figure out a way to schedule murders, we'll let you know," Provenza promised.

"Only if you figure it out between nine and five on a workday, please," replied Morales, and he and the Captain exchanged a vaguely amused look. "Well, I'm off to get a very late batch of lunch Margaritas… please don't call me back."

"Doctor –" Sharon suppressed a smile at his exasperated expression. "Did you find anything else that could tell us what toxin poisoned Mr. Donnell?"

He shook his head. "No. And if the lab couldn't figure it out from hours of working on his blood and tissue, I doubt I'm your best chance, honestly." His shoulders rose in a small shrug. "Like I said, I'm not an expert in poisons. I can recognize the symptoms and traces, I can't sniff out the chemical composition. If you find any candidates, I'm happy to test them for you… tomorrow."

The Captain nodded, a silent acknowledgment that they'd abused his time enough. "Thank you for your help, Doctor. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon," she wished him.

"I plan to, thank you. Ta –" He paused mid-goodbye, and frowned at the murder board. "This guy worked in an animal lab?"

"He handled animal care for USC's Department of Animal Resources," Sharon confirmed. "Detectives Sanchez and Sykes are on their way there now."

Morales sighed. "Okay, I'm gonna say this, and please don't take it as an invitation to make me stay here any longer… but if I were looking for your mystery toxin, I'd start by asking if they have any exotic poisonous animals in those research facilities."

...how am I doing with that 'between the lines' thing ;)?

Thanks everyone for reading!