While Lya is busy beginning the corporate take-over, Evie makes herself useful at the cemetery, searching for Thomas' ghost.
She walks among the rows of silent plots, her eyes scanning the tombstones in search of the Cardinelli's name. The air is still and quiet, disturbed only by the occasional sound of birds twittering here and there from their perches in ornamental trees.
Off to one side, she spots a pavilion raised over an empty grave, obviously in preparation for a funeral. Evie is glad that she's missing that. Even though no one would question her presence in the graveyard, she'd still feel as though she was inadvertently intruding upon a private moment.
Finally, after wandering around a bit, she finds herself standing in front of a relatively fresh grave, the headstone clearly marked with Thomas' name and birth/death dates. Flowers have been left, though they have clearly been there for a while. Of course, Thomas' brother and sister would come out. This would've been their official good-bye.
Speaking softly, she says, "Thomas? You around?" Evie turns in a circle, trying to engage her gift…looking past the mundane world and into that shady area where ghosts exist.
"I'm here, Evelyn Cartwright. I am bound to the events that loom before you, and cannot fully depart the mortal realm," Thomas Cardinelli says. "I have you to thank for bringing closure to my family."
She smiles touch sadly. Though she needs Thomas to help her answer some questions, she had hoped that he was able to move on.
"Evie," she chuckles quietly. "You're family...distant, but still family. The only people who call me Evelyn are old men and my mom when I'm in trouble."
"I think I might count as an old man, at this point," the shade gently jests.
"Touché," Evie smiles and then sighs. "I need your help, hopefully for the last time. For some reason, everything that is happening is centered around Vegas...in this reality and others. No matter what, it all seems to circle back around to here."
"What was happening in Vegas when you were alive? I know that Roget was building his place. I have your notes about Fenris and the others working with him. But...what else may have been happening?" she tilts her head and shoves her hands in her pockets, regarding Thomas thoughtfully.
"Also, were you working alone or were there other Scions helping you?"
"They were trying to get one of their number elected to Congress," Thomas said. "That happened to be Armand Roget. But voters are pretty perceptive, and Armand was just a little too slick for their tastes. He lost. Badly."
"He explained it to me, as I lay dying. He was looking for some kind of conjunction or correspondence between worlds. I was supposed to be used as some kind of human circuit breaker or something, until Surt - his pet troll - bashed my head in. That was that."
"Were there other Scions? Not in town, no. I was surprised, actually. Dad had said that power calls to power. I always hoped, but ..."
Evie nods, "They managed to use Alex to do just that. They formed a conjunction between this world and another version of Vegas but we managed to sever the anchor."
"He's trying the exact, same ploy, this time, too. This time, he's replacing a fairly moderate senator and plans on assassinating the president, Tuesday. The plan is to move the senator up to that seat of power where he can effectively start WWIII and jump start Fimbulwinter."
Evie starts to pace a bit, her brow furrowed, "But, why Vegas? What is special about here? And why were there no other Scions?"
"Power calls to power..." she mutters. "Could it be...a conjunction between Asgard and here? Do Vegas and Asgard line up?"
Though she is not sure that she is capable of "mapping" Asgard, she still tries. Evie stands still and concentrates, trying to overlap coordinates in her mind to confirm or reject this theory.
You find yourself pacing and turning to get a sense of where things are, but your number-juggling doesn't seem to be very productive. You find yourself staring at the distant hills of Red Rock Canyon. And then it hits you. It's not a perfect correspondence. It's more akin to a map drawn from memory. Distant hills, just as there were at Hrofgar's forge. A nearby city. And what else might correspond to something? The Westview? The casino owned by one of Roget's/Lyman's/Loki's band?
And what of the carefully crafted drama Hitoshi is embroiled in? It doesn't match anything out of the Poetic Edda. Is he just a convenient pawn, the only one among your band that has an emotional lever to hand?
He's at the Country Club with the President. Our President is about to attend a fundraising event at the Country Club. Everything is coming to a flashpoint...
"A convergence...everything is coming together...here...there...it's all a reflection of each other. But what does that mean?" Evie paces in agitation, feeling like the answer is right there staring her in the face and she's not getting it.
"Could it be that the realities will be close enough that they will overlap? But, if that could happen, anyway, then why the need for an anchor? Unless some realities are further away than others?" the detective growls softly, all of this outside of her knowledge. Certainly, she has a grasp of sci-fi but that was all outside of reality before she knew her heritage. Now, all these new theories are open for examination, but she has no idea what has an actual foundation.
"Power calls to power...like calls to like...Will the presidents switch places at the convergence? Could that happen? But, by the time the president is here, in our world, won't he have left the Club in Hitoshi's? Then again, time is getting all janky so...who knows?"
She shakes her head, "I need to talk to Lya. She understands magic better than I do."
"Thomas...what about the Country Club?" she asks. "Was it always that or was it something else when you were alive?"
"The Country Club?" Thomas laughs. "When I was around, it was a dusty racetrack. Not much of anything. That doesn't mean you couldn't empower the site or something."
"Roget and his friends had their fingers in a lot of pies. For all I know, they offed another Scion and buried him there."
"Hmmm," Evie pulls out her phone and begins tapping in some searches, "Let's see...what happened to that race track? Who owned it, who leveled it, who built the Country Club on top of it..."
"And, I'm going to be there, tomorrow, so I can do a more thorough sweep once I am on site," she grins. "I'm supposed to be poking around! No one will think anything about me looking in places and asking questions."
She gives a half shrug and wry smile, "Of course, that's assuming that no one will try and kill me between now and then. I think they've been avoiding me, for the most part, since I'm Heimdall's kid, but I don't know how much longer that will last."
The history of the LVCC is no secret - race track, then an attempt to leverage a member-supported club to a premium venue, though it wasn't until the 1970's that it took on its present-day form. But the list of original investors ... ah, there it is. Armand Roget. And several other names from Thomas' list ...
"...annnd, sho'nuff. Roget and his cronies have their fingers in the Country Club pie, as well," Evie turns to Thomas. "I know you were halfway joking about someone else being buried there but...I wouldn't be surprised if I do run across another ghost out there."
"If Vegas and everything that is happening in this city is so important, surely the gods wouldn't have placed a only single Scion here. Maybe there were others, but Roget got to them before their parents tagged them and they could become a threat."
She puts her phone back in her pocket and crosses her arms, thinking. It's possible...Loki has been playing with realities and it seems that he can adjust time in these other worlds. Maybe he fast-forwarded in others, found out who was a threat, and came back here to bump them off. But, why miss Thomas? Unless he needed to save one for the anchor.
Inwardly, she shakes her head at herself. I can't believe that I'm even considering such things but...I've seen the truth. As outlandish as it seems, it's possible.
"Before Tyr tapped you, did you ever have a close call? Something that could've killed you but you either avoided it or pulled through," she asks.
"Yes. In fact, it was the night I was awakened. I responded to a 211-in-progress, holdup at a liquor store," Thomas said. "Called it in, pursued the suspect on foot. Down the block, over several fences ... and then, as I hopped the last, he's just standing there, glassy-eyed.
"Death to the Son of Tyr," he said. Shot me point blank. Emptied the gun, but saved the last bullet for himself. So I'm lying there, figure I've got a couple of broken ribs, and I know I'm bleeding ... and this angel appears. Sorry, Valkyrie. Tells me it's not my time.
"Next thing I remember, I'm in the hospital. Bandaged up, a bit sore, but that beats being dead. A doctor comes in, looks me over, and just when I thought it was all some hallucination on the edge of being shot, tells me he's Tyr, the Norse God of Judgment, and that he's my father. You know how it goes from there, I imagine."
"Almost exactly the same as Alex..." Evie murmurs. "He got the 'death to the son of Tyr' treatment, as well."
"So, it looks like Fenris has a special place in his fuzzy heart for you guys. He wants you dead and he wants you to know that it was no accident. You were targeted and taken out," Evie's brow furrows. "At first, I thought it was just something about Alex that made the enemy single him out. Now, it looks like it's all children of Tyr."
"Singling you guys out, though, is stupid," she shakes her head. "Of course our parents keep tabs on us. By obviously picking on you, he's waving a giant flag that says 'lookit me!'
"Why would Fenris want to get Tyr's attention...unless this is all a set-up for the final battle? He's trying to maneuver all the pieces where he wants them, and he's counting on Tyr to come forward?"
"Of course, he does," she breathes. "He's pushing Ragnarok forward. He wants the battle with Tyr. But, what has he changed that he thinks will let him win, this time?"
"Excuse me, for a moment, Thomas. I need to call Lya and Alex. After we hash things out, we may have more questions, though. Thanks for helping us. You've been a great source of information," she says. She smiles at the ghost and adds, "On the one hand, I'm sorry that you're still stuck here. On the other, I'm glad to have you."
Evie begins setting up for a conference call, trying to get both Alex and Lya on the line so that there is no need for repeating stuff.
"Evie! Tell me some good news and I'll tell you mine!" Lya replies as she answers her phone.
"I take it things went okay, then? Or, at least, nobody is dead or in jail?" Evie grins as she replies.
"Hold on a second and let me see if I can get Alex in on this so we can all talk together. It'll save us some time not having to repeat things and stay coordinated," Evie lowers the phone and starts the process to pull Alex in, if he's available.
Alex's phone buzzes.
"You have a call from Evie Cartwright," his smartphone announces.
"Evie. What's up?" he says. "I've been through the penthouse level. Big fat lot of nothing. Nothing but a couple of spare suits in Hitoshi's suite, and the other rooms are empty. No drugged Air Force colonels, no scandalous affairs, no hidden sniper rifles. Haven't looked on the roof, yet, though."
"Hey, Alex! I've got Lya on the line, too," Evie says, which is immediately followed by a "Hey!" from Lya.
"Okay, so...I've been talking to Thomas..." she begins. It takes her a short time to recap what she has learned - Thomas' own experience before being claimed, the history of the Club and her theories about what may have happened and is currently happening.
"Now, something else occurred to me," she turns in a circle as she talks, scanning the cemetery, just in case she finds herself suddenly not alone. Well, except for Thomas, of course. "Thomas was buried in a star metal coffin with the Edda carved in it. That's freakin' overkill unless that coffin was meant to do something else entirely."
'Thomas sort of kidded that, for all he knew, there might be other Scions buried under the Club. Well...what if that is true? Tyr told Thomas that 'power calls to power.' Loki obviously fucked up by killing Thomas when he was needed as an anchor. So, what if he decided to use Thomas to add to the power in Vegas? What if a Scion's body still holds some of the power of the parent? Or, what if that power can be contained if properly prepared...like in a metal sarcophagus with the Poetic Edda on the outside?"
"Everything seems to be converging on the Club. What if that is because it is a power center because Loki has been planting Scions there for 50 years or more?"
"Hmmm," says Alex. "It'd have to have been an all-at-once thing, back when the place was being built, wouldn't it? Or some kind of figurative thing, burying a piece of them. If you can use Aesir blood for Jotunblut, then it's got power in a mystical sense."
"Honestly, I have no idea how any of this works," Evie admits.
"I figure that if Vegas is a center of power, the gods wouldn't put just one Scion here. So, what happened to the others? Did Loki get them and use them as the base for his power source?"
"Or was Vegas not a center of power, before, but has since become one through Loki's efforts?"
"Lya, you understand this stuff better than I do. Does any of this sound plausible or am I making crap up? Because I totally could be," Evie asks. In the back of her mind, she makes a note to start studying the occult. If she lives through all of this, she'll likely run into more things that she can't explain through her current life experience.
"Not that it matters, much, at this point," Evie shakes her head, realizing that she may well be losing sight of the real problem in her need to fully understand the situation. "The point is that I think the Club is important on some greater level. If there is some way for us to remove that power, then we should do it. But, I don't even know what the power is, if it exists. I could be completely wrong."
Lya scratches her head and chuckles. "I've read a book or two, Evie... the rest is all conjecture and plots from movies stuck in my head."
She walks passed Mika with a nod and closes the door to her office as Phoebe and Orithia flop down on the couch. "My guess is that because the events at the country club seem to happen in every reality, it's going to be the best spot for Loki and Fenris to do their thing and mash realities together to form their version of Ragnarok."
She grabs a pen and paper and writes a message before tossing it at Phoebe: Ask Mika if Hitoshi has membership to the country club, or if she can arrange it for us.
"You know... like that spot in the west where if you stand there you're connected to four different states. I do have some good news to share with you guys, by the way. The board meeting went as well as could be! Selene tried to get Gregory to kill me because I think he's infected with Jotunblut (can you do anything about that Alex?), and Douglas Maxwell turned invisible and attacked us."
"And that's well, is it?" Evie asks with a laugh.
"Totally!" Lya replies. "The rest of the board was going to fight me until they saw those three go crazy. Now we've got them wrapped up with security, Klepto and Toxic are keeping an eye on them, I've got a new piece of jewelry from Maxwell, and I've got Arky and Karen Ryder ready to join me for a press conference on Monday to announce our new plans for the hotel."
She spins in her seat and props her shoes up on the desk. "And when Phoebe gets back from talking with Mika," she says pointedly as she looks Phoebe's way, causing Phoebe to sigh and roll her eyes before getting up and walking into the other room, "I can see about getting membership access to the country club, or at very least to the event the president will be throwing."
"No one's dead or in jail. Win!" Evie laughs again, happily soaking in the good news. "That should send them into a bit of a tailspin!"
"However, if Fenris is keeping an eye on his daughters, he may know that something is amiss before the news hits. We'll have to be super careful between now and Tuesday. If he feels at all threatened, I wouldn't be surprised if he makes a move against us early in order to make sure we can not stop the assassination. None of us should be alone, at this point," Evie says, her mood shifting to caution. Now, she watches her surroundings in earnest. Before, she had just been keeping a casual eye out, but knowing that Selene is being held changes things.
She presses her lips together and frowns, still trying to wrap her head around all of this,"So, if they are going to mash realities together...how are they planning on doing it without an anchor? Or...aw, shit. Maybe they do have an anchor in Hitoshi's reality."
"Maybe they have an anchor in Hitoshi," Lya replies grimly. "The Mimir told me that the only way to set Ragnarok back on track was to get Hitoshi to leave... so I will bet a glass of my best whiskey that's what is going to happen."
"Well...wait a minute. If setting Ragnarok 'back on track' means that it's still on, then maybe we're okay with Hitoshi being where he is. After all, after your second vision, we decided that Ragnarok doesn't even have to happen. So...maybe Hitoshi not leaving is exactly what we need!" Evie glances across the tops of headstones and mausoleums as she speaks. "Maybe him being there will help prevent whatever is going to happen on his end. If he wasn't there, then Yakuza Hitoshi would roll along with whatever Fenris and Loki asked of him."
"Ragnarok is always on, and it always isn't. I took it more like 'setting things back to normal and without divine intervention'" more than anything," Lya replies. "At the very least the impression I got before the vision was interrupted by Guan-yin was that to stop this messed up version of Ragnarok from happening and replace it with the normal version of things would require Hitsohi to come home."
"Whether I can convince people Ragnarok never has to happen or not is going to have to wait until after we stop the assassination," she chuckles dryly.
"I'm not sure it's Jotunblut. If Selene is one of Fenris' brood, she may just share her ... sister's? ... gift for manipulation. Soleil Hunter has the DA pretty well dazzled, and she's in the heads of most of the others. All that b.s. during Chris Clemens' re-election campaign about making the District Attorney's office lean and mean? She was stacking the staff with men she could influence," Alex says. "She also dropped a hint that she knew I was a Scion."
"Well the photos of Selene might've been released to the press, but her detainment has been kept under wraps at least until tomorrow night with the press conference," Lya replies as she twirls the phone cord with her finger. "Considering that whole 'Death to the Sons of Tyr' thing I figured they knew you were a Scion all along, Alex."
"But anyway... the country club," she continues as she leans back in her chair and runs a hand through her hair. "Evie's going to be there on police detail, right? I'm going to see if I can obtain some tickets to the charity event to get us in, but what about you, Alex?"
"Yeah, I'm also going to be there, tomorrow, for the setup and pre-event security sweeps. I'm going to use that opportunity to poke around, a bit. Knowing that Loki's crew owns it means that I expect there to be some secrets hiding there," she confirms.
"I got a complimentary membership when I joined the District Attorney's office. I hadn't heard that that was revoked when I left, so ... I can make a call and attend the fundraiser like anyone else," says Alex. "I'm worried about this train wreck of mystical woo, though. Is stuff going to start coming unglued as we get closer?"
"I have no idea," Evie shakes her head and throws up her free hand in a gesture of exasperation. "I miss the days of crime scenes and dead bodies. Those, I can deal with. All this magic and prophecy and timey-wimey, alternate dimension hoo-haa...it's so nebulous. It gives me a headache trying to sort it out."
"But, it is what it is," she says wryly. "I'll see what else I can snoop tomorrow. Can anyone think of anything else I should ask Thomas, while I'm here?"
"It always seems to on TV," Lya chuckles dryly as she rubs her temple. "I'm no temporal physicist, though... so I have no idea how to stop it other than yank Hitoshi back over to our side if we can and hope that takes care of it."
"So if Evie's going to be at the club early casing the place for the cops, we should be able to just show up as guests, and the Furies can cover as our assistants, drivers, dates, etc. Hey Evie... do you think you could tote my piece for me? I doubt the SS would allow we anywhere near the place carrying that thing. You though, could probably get away with it."
"Yeah, I can probably get it in. I know the Secret Service is going to be thorough, but I doubt they are going to run any checks to make sure the firearms I carry are actually mine. Since I'm with PD, they may run a check to make sure I am who I say I am but, after that...I'll probably be clear," Evie answers.
"Fab!" Lya replies. "I'm not so worried about the girls... give them access to a cleaning closet and they can arm themselves faster than you can say 'girl fight.' So... anything else we need to coordinate before I get back to the CEO thing?"
"Are we all going to stay at the Westview, tonight? Not sure I want to go back to my apartment, what with the door still hanging off the hinges..."
"It's not like anybody is using Hitoshi's suite right now," Lya replies. "I'm always up for a sleepover. With everything getting ready to hit the fan, I'd feel more comfortable if the group was together, honestly."
"Me, too. I just need to run back home to pick up nice clothes for tomorrow. Anything else? Otherwise, I may chat with Thomas for a couple more minutes then I'll head back to the Westview," she says.
"I think we're good here," Lya replies. "I'll tell the front desk to send you on up when you arrive, Evie. You coming over for the sleep over, Alex? Might as well enjoy my new position while it lasts..."
"Phrasing!" Orithia yells out as Lya crumples up a piece of paper and throws it at her.
"My house is a pile of debris, and sleeping in a bed is preferable to another night on the sofa in my office," Alex says, then adds. "Preferably a bed where I don't have to wrestle Orithia for a pillow."
Lya laughs and winks at Orithia. "I think we can make arrangements where you can get a room with your own pillows."
"Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more!" Evie joins in the laughter. "What's a little pillow wrestling between friends? Am I right?"
"Okay, I'll be back in a few," Evie's laughter dies down to chuckles, the sound seeming odd in such a somber setting. She closes her phone and turns back to Thomas, who has been waiting patiently.
"Alright, it looks like we have a full couple of days. I have just one more question for you...I know you spoke to your brother about what was happening. Did you have any other confidants? Anyone else that you trusted to share this with and help you?" she asks.
"I've never made a habit of dropping my problems on others," Thomas said. "There's no one else. I didn't even tell my partner or my girlfriend. That one night, I so wanted to tell Stephanie the truth, and I realized that I couldn't. I couldn't up-end her world like that. So I bought those savings bonds and set them aside, just in case. I didn't know anything about saving the world, or even if I could save the world, but I knew that if I could, it wouldn't be for me."
He looks skyward.
"For a long time after ... after I died, I thought I was still here because the gods were punishing me. Because I'd screwed up. I don't know if this is a second chance, or the way things were meant to be. But whatever you need, if it's within my power, Detective ... Cousin ... you have but to ask."
Evie wishes that she could give Thomas a hug, at that moment. Everything he has said, she understands. It's part of why she hasn't told Saul or her family, along with the need to keep them safe. She nods and gives him a sympathetic smile, "I understand. I haven't told the people that I love, either."
She regards Thomas softly, thinking about what he has said, "I don't think you were being punished. I know that all this time had to have been hard on you. I can't imagine what it must be like, to always be here and, yet...be apart from everything and everyone. But, if I had to make a guess...I would say that you were left here to help us. You were our first clue that something was amiss, that some great disaster was bearing down on us. Being able to talk to you has been a great help. Without your knowledge and experience, we'd still be flailing around, trying to figure out who and what we were up against."
"Hopefully, if we're able to stop this nonsense on Tuesday, you'll be free," she grins. "If I haven't joined you in the afterlife, I'll come back here. And, if all is well, then you'll be gone. If not, well...then we'll keep working on it."
She chuckles, "I'm going to head on out. I need to go home and grab the monkey suit. Chief told me 'no T-shirts' for tomorrow's sweep. Pfft! Like being in an uncomfortable outfit is going to make me do my job better." Evie chuckles, sharing that small, shared work jest with a former officer. "Take care, Thomas."
"If I don't see you again, tell my half-brother ... Alex? ... tell him goodbye for me," Thomas says.
"I will," she smiles and turns to leave. Over her shoulder, she calls, "You better not be here when I come back, mister!"
Evie makes her way back out of the cemetery unmolested. No einjehar leap from behind mausoleums. No ghosts accost her. It is an empty place, as it should be. The only things it holds, today, are memories and one, lonely spirit.
The detective makes her way home and quickly gathers up her nice clothes - a dark, grey jacket and pants along with a cream-colored blouse to wear beneath. However, she does not grab pumps or heels because she simply doesn't own any. Instead, she sweeps a pair of grey sneakers that she had bought specifically for this outfit on top of the folded pile of clothes.
I'll be damned if I'm going to be caught in uncomfortable shoes!
As she is driving to the Westview, the phrase "power calls to power" keeps running through her mind. She's not sure what to make of it, but it seems terribly important. And, that sets her on edge. She keeps worrying at it, picking at it in her mind, turning it over and over, looking for some meaning.
"Ah, screw it. To the library, it is," she mutters, turning on her blinker so that she can make a U-turn at the next light.
Once she reaches the library, she sits in her car and shoots a text to Alex and Lya:
"At the library, doing some research. Will be home, soon."
The library itself is one of the few structures in Vegas that doesn't feel like a glitzy sham. It's an old, red brick structure with a well-manicured mini-garden in front. She walks in and immediately feels at home. Ah, the smell of paper and books! It's a glorious scent. It's the smell of knowledge, imagination and, many times, answers.
Evie goes to one of the library computers and pulls up the electronic catalog. (One thing she doesn't miss about libraries are the old card catalogs.) She punches in searches for "associative magic, Nordic tradition and sympathetic magic." Hopefully, she can find something in there that might give her some clues, if not actual answers.
The shelves yield a surprising amount of metaphysical titles, though there are a couple of spectacular mis-categorizations, with a book on Magic: The Gathering having found its way into the catalog.
There's Lisa Peschel's book on the runes, of course; D.J. Conway's Norse Magic; several treatises on Snorri Sturlsson's work as a whole; and a couple of titles on J.R.R. Tolkien's use of Norse legend in crafting Lord of the Rings.
But it is a fairly general title that provides the answer: Fraser's The Golden Bough, a 1922 work that examined magic and religion from an academic standpoint. Fraser outlines two basic principles in magic, the Law of Similarity and the Law of Contagion.
The first stipulates that items that are similar can be used to invoke similar effects - a poppet therefore becomes the person the caster wishes to affect - and the second says that objects that have been in contact with each other remain linked - so clothing and possessions become avenues to employ magic, and 'personal concerns' - hair, fingernail clippings, etc - also become powerful tokens.*
Thus, a war in a reality where key elements correspond: location, time, individuals ... becomes an avenue to bend and shape our own.
Evie leans back in her chair and rubs the bridge of her nose. All of this is only telling her things that she had already guessed. Though, it is nice to have her theory confirmed, it still seems like there is a hole there, somewhere. If it were just a matter of locations and events lining up, all of this could be taking place anywhere in the world. Heck, Ragnarok could be bearing down on Hoboken if all it took was a convergence of places and events. After all, all the same stuff, but with variables, is also happening in Hoboken across all realities.
So, the key is the variables that happen here in Vegas. Certainly, the president's visit must be a central event. But, could there be other things in place aside from that which could disrupt whatever sympathetic magic is being used? Clearly, there must be a beacon of some kind to tie the two realities together. But, what could that beacon be? And, how do they go about finding it?
"Uuuugh," Evie leans back farther, letting her head fall back as she rubs the heels of her hands into her eyes. And, none of this may even matter. I may be driving myself crazy chasing a tidbit of information that doesn't amount to a hill of beans, in the long run. How it is done may be irrelevant. But, here I am. Because...me.
"Evie, dear! It's good to see you," a quiet, quavery voice interrupts her thoughts.
Lowering her hands and sitting up, Evie finds herself facing an elderly woman who is wrinkled like an apple left in the sun too long. She smiles at Evie and reaches out to pat her shoulder, "It's been so long, dear! How is your brother?"
"Hi, Mrs. Williams," Evie smiles and pats the old librarian's thin hand. She has been a fixture here just about as long as she can remember. Evie has run into her time and again when doing research for cases and, of course, Ian treats the kind lady like a third grandmother. "Ian's fine. He's working on his PhD, at the moment. I'm surprised if he hasn't been in, recently...but, I suppose he uses the University's library mostly, now."
Mrs. Williams looks at the assortment of books on the table. "Is there something I can help you find, dear?"
"Thanks, but I don't think so," Evie gently closes the book she had been looking through. "I've got a cold case that involved some ritual. Just trying to figure out what might have been the perp's motivation, what they may have been thinking."
Mrs. Williams picks up some books that had been abandoned on a table beside Evie's and transfers them to her cart. Shaking her head, she says, "Such a job you have...looking at the darkness in mankind, all the time."
"It could be worse," Evie stands and picks up her books, moving them to the cart for the librarian. "I could be a mime." The detective gives a joking shudder, as though the very thought were repulsive.
"Oh!" Mrs. Williams laughs and gently pushes Evie's shoulder.
"Actually," Evie says thoughtfully, "I may want to go down and look at the newspaper microfiche."
She knows when Thomas died and when the Country Club was built. It might not hurt to take a look at the newspapers from around those times. Small, purely local events from those times probably wouldn't show up in internet searches, so she may have missed something.
It can't hurt to look, she thinks, mentally sighing to herself. Besides, what am I going to do at the Westview? I may as well spent my time searching, while I can. Today, I can look at the past. Tomorrow, I can look at the present at the Club.
The microfiche yields only the most peripheral of trivia - a photo of Armand Roget / Jason Lyman at the groundbreaking - and confirmation of what Thomas told you.
"Thanks a lot," you tell the microfiche reader. It's a love/hate relationship, of course - you've had cases break based on minutiae found in old newspaper accounts. But, here, it's a dead end.
"Ah, well," Evie mutters as she puts the microfiche away. It's not like it's the first time she's ever hit a dead end. If she let that deter her, she wouldn't be much of a detective, now would she?
So, now what? she thinks as she absently waves to Mrs. Williams, giving her a parting smile. It's clear to the librarian, though, that the detective isn't really seeing her or anything else as she walks away, lost in her own thoughts.
I suppose I could hit the database at HQ and search for missing persons around those times, she makes her way to her car and slides into the driver's seat. But, what would that get me? I would have no way of knowing if anyone who was missing was a Scion. And, even if I knew, what would I do with that knowledge?
Evie leans forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. "Fuck, fuck, fuck...I HATE this!" she growls.
At this point, Evie has no idea what is even possible, anymore. What is within the realm of reality and what is still clearly hokum? It's all blurred together and she doesn't know if the questions that she is asking are valid or not.
Can you build a power center with Scion parts? Don't know. Does it require a beacon draw the realities together? Don't know. Is having Hitoshi in the other realm enough of a draw to make the two realities come together because of sympathetic attraction? Don't know.
It's all coming together in a matter of a day and she has no idea what any of it really means, what is going to happen. Will preventing the president's assassination actually stop anything or just delay it? Can he just try again? Will Fenris pop to another realm and do it all over again?
Tears of frustration well up in her eyes. She's never felt so unsure of...well...everything. and so utterly useless.
"Fuck it. It is what it is. I show up at work tomorrow and do my best to secure the place. I show up Tuesday and do my best to stop an assassination," she sniffs and dashes the tears from her eyes.
Still, she turns her car towards HQ instead of the Westview. If she sits there, she's just going to keep worrying at everything. At least if she's at her desk, looking through the missing person's database, she's doing something. It may ultimately be empty busywork, but at least she'll keep herself occupied.
"That's just twisted," you say to yourself.
Just to be sure, you double check your findings. You double check the names, the spelling, the dates.
Only someone as twisted and broken as Loki could have cooked this one up.
Your search has turned up missing persons reports for a number of people. Most of them are unremarkable. A murder case that was solved in less than a month.
And a young boy, age 6, whose name was Justin Holliwell.
Along with another child, a year later, sharing the name of the President.
Both of whom disappeared years ago ... this very night.
People. Places. Things.
It always starts with something small.
"Well, huh," Evie stares at the screen and heaves a sigh. So, Loki makes two kids disappear which creates a couple of holes in reality to be later filled by other namesakes.
But, how does that even work? There have to be, at the very least, a few dozen people with those names in the world. So, how does one even know that the correct ones will fall into place...? she rubs a hand over her face.Stop it. Just stop. Don't worry about it. It's not important.
All her life, she has sought answers. Puzzles call to her and she has a deep-seated need to figure them out. But, this time, she's been thrown into a situation in which she has no experience. And, she's getting angry at herself for not understanding.
On a purely intellectual level, Evie realizes how absurd her anger is. Would she be angry if someone asked her to design a house and she couldn't? No. She's not an architect. Would she be angry if someone asked her to defuse a bomb and she couldn't? No. She has no experience with bombs. So, why should she be upset over this? Certainly, over time she can gain the knowledge needed to grok all of this but she simply doesn't have that time, right now.
This does absolutely nothing to make her feel better, though.
"Ah, well.." she pushes her chair back and gets to her feet. Evie reaches over and shuts down her computer as she slides her chair under the desk.
The past has offered up nothing that will be useful in stopping the coming convergence. Perhaps, tomorrow, the present will show something.
Bone tired after her day of watching Hitoshi and then gaining nothing of use here in Vegas, she leaves the station and heads back to Westview.