A warm evening breeze rustled trees and caressed my skin, but did nothing to take away the chill that lingered around Ellie's residence.

The local police, ACME, and the media were gone now, leaving a web of crime scene tape in their wake. I stepped over it delicately, not wanting to disturb anything even though I knew everything had been well documented by both law enforcement entities.

The girl was not dead, thankfully, but the amount of crimson that was smeared across the floor could have convinced me otherwise. I followed the drag pattern from the simply decorated living room into her bedroom, and stood at the doorway, taking in the scene. A pallet bed was constructed in one corner, with still rumpled sheets and two pillows. A half open closet displayed garments hanging neatly in clear plastic bags, still pressed from the cleaners. On her desk a slim laptop blinked incessantly next to a pile of notebooks and lined paper marked with hasty handwriting.

And then there were the canvases.

Through reviewing Ellie's file prior to this, I had learned of her former work in Art Crimes - which was an asset, considering the habits of our main adversary. But, as I stepped closer to study the color filled paintings drying in the sun drenched room, it seemed as if the young woman had some hidden artistic talent of her own.

The subjects were mostly landscapes, the most recent one completed was a depiction of the Golden Gate Bridge. Here is where the blood seemed to pool, and I could see flecks of reddish brown on many of the other works. I took a look at the easel, taken aback at the crudely yet instantly recognizable painted image, in the same reddish brown of the Detective's dry blood.

It can't be...

A shadow filled the window and shaded the calling card. I didn't even bother turning around, already having a strong feeling as to who it was.

"Ready to talk now?"

Silence.

"Chase?"

"I've almost lost a Trainee and it seems like you've given us the slip too, so forgive me if I'm not in the mood for conversation."

I could feel her half smile. My body subconsciously tensed as I watched her silhouette draw nearer, until it was side by side with mine.

"I've lost some of mine already. Double agents, assumed to be working with the Agency. It was nothing this...gruesome, but still concerning nonetheless."

I allowed myself a glimpse of her now, finding her pedestrian attire of dark jeans and plain tee disconcerting.

"How do you know this isn't a copycat?"

"Rumors don't suggest that it is..." She trailed off now, latex gloved fingers lightly touching our main focus. "And this seems in line with their work."

"So you're risking everything on rumors and...?"

"ACME's not like it used to be. These kids can't handle what these murders can dish out."

She was right, of course. With our program being tailored mainly towards thwarting the antics of VILE, self defense did not journey further than hand to hand combat. But still, "Why all the risk? An anonymous tip would have sufficed."

It was her turn to let silence settle between us.

Then, "You know how I hated to leave things unfinished."

I did. The trait was both a blessing and a curse.

"You were the same way too. That's why we worked so well together."

"Things aren't the same this time around."

She acknowledged the fact with a nod. "Makes it all the more interesting."

A beat.

"I don't know about all this."

She removed her gloves, revealing well kept nails in her signature shade. "This was the turning point in both our lives. It's only fitting that we put it to rest."

I sighed, meeting her blue eyes for the first time. "I'll pull the file and review the case tonight."