A/N: It's interesting. Here, I get down and dirty with the most awful things as this is a crime story. And then I've got these very fun and dare I say, ambitious ideas to brainstorm on the side to cleanse the old palette.

Hope to get these ready sometime this year because I'm too excited! 2025 is going to be RIDICULOUS!

No new developments in the case so far, which didn't help the anxious detectives.

Beck was off doing some things while Andre was nowhere to be found. That left Tori to get up on her own initiative and do some digging.

Tori inquired with Sikowitz if they had anybody who handled the technical stuff and he gleefully replied that they do. His name was Robbie and he was in the basement. The new kid on the block raised a brow, just now learning that this place had a basement.

Through a very unassuming wooden door led down to a set of stairs that was already lit. She felt a shiver but shook her head and started her descent. First thing she noticed it was surprisingly warm down here. This building may be older but they knew how to heat it and insulate it from the elements.

"Hello?"

"WHOA!"

The Latina jumped and did a full 180 to be faced with a bald fellow with wide eyes. He appeared to be just as startled as Tori.

"Who are you?" the black man asked with suspicion.

"I'm Tori Vega, detective."

His look of bemusement turned into one of amusement and he nodded.

"Right, right, the new one!" He extended his hand. "I'm Luther. I'm the evidence and records custodian here."

She sighed with relief that she stumbled on another friend and shook his hand.

"Sorry if I startled you," Tori smiled apologetically. "It's good to meet you, Luther."

Tori tilted her head to see the door behind him.

"Would you mind if I saw it? The records?"

"Oh, sure!" he smiled. "Don't get a whole lot who ask for a tour."

She shrugged.

"Getting tired of being the fish out of water. Maybe you could give me an education."

As they went into the room which had rows of shelves filled with boxes and books and various bins; Tori was impressed by how much was crammed into this space. She could get lost in all of this stuff.

"For starters..." Tori continued. "What can you tell me about Langley?"

His eyes lit up as he excitedly grabbed a handful of thick books. Most of them looked decades old.

"What would you like to know? History?" He fitted reading glasses from his breast pocket and held one of the tomes open. "The...Snohomish people were indigenous to this land..." Luther then quickly set the book down. He had this air about him that he had encyclopedic knowledge committed to memory. The books were merely offered as visual aids, purely for the benefit of the uninitiated. "The last recorded peak in the town population was around 200 in 1792. That is until the late 1800's when they were displaced to the Tulalip Reservation."

Luther needed more room, so he gently guided the conversation to a much larger table where he could spread out his books better. He then took out a rolled piece of paper.

"Could you?"

Tori nodded and held the one end while he proceeded to unfurl a huge map of the town.

"Langley as we know it was..." Luther did air quotes for the next word. "...founded by Jacob Anthes in the 1890's."

The detective shook her head in amazement. This guy who she just met took her on a whirlwind trip back in time like it was nothing. Looking up at him, feeling his enthusiasm, Luther seemed like he'd be right at home as the curator of a museum.

"I don't get that kind of an experience from Google!" she smiled.

Luther just cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah, I'm a real history buff. Learning about what came before is important."

"I couldn't agree more," Tori nodded. "While I'm here...how is your recent history, regarding murder cases?"

He motioned for further down from where they were standing and Tori followed.

"I've got newspapers, microfilm, microfiche," Luther went on. "I don't want to brag but we've got a pretty good archive down here."

"Impressive...Have there been anything like these killings before?"

The older man shook his head.

"Nothing, certainly nothing this brutal..." he squinted and scratched at his grey beard. "although..."

Tori got goosebumps.

"What?"

"There had been the disappearances back in the early 2000's."

"What can you tell me about that?" she asked him.

He began scanning the shelves near them and fingered a box and deftly took it down and removed the lid. Inside it was stuffed with file folders. Luther grabbed one from the near middle and opened it.

"Three high school freshman...all boys...went camping in the woods. They were never seen again. You know those two girls the whole northwest is searching for?"

Tori nodded with a serious expression.

"It was just like that! A massive manhunt and they came up empty. Nothing!"

"It's like they vanished."

He closed the folder with a flourish.

"Nobody vanishes. Somebody knows something."

She could see it in his visage that this one bothered him.

"Are you okay, Luther?"

"I was a beat cop when this happened," he admitted. "Before I retired from the field and settled...here. I take this particular failure very personally. Never found those boys." He laid the folder back onto the top of the box. "And we never will."

Tori touched his shoulder.

"Listen...the last thing I want is for those woman to be another unsolved mystery."

"Anything you think that might help, Tori Vega..." he huffed. "Don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll hold you to that, Luther. And thank you." She eyed the file folder. "Would you mind I borrow this? I promise to be careful and return it soon."

He hesitated before picking it up and handing it to her.

"I just want to check something..." Tori said. "For my own curiosity. Is everything you have in here a hard copy?"

Luther folded his arms and exhaled sharply.

"I was going through the process of trying to digitize a lot of this..." he leaned toward a door. "But somebody could help fix that scanner!"

"Who?"

"Robbie," he thumbed at the door. "He's right in there."

A curly-haired guy with thick glasses was furiously typing when the creak of the door made him stop. He turned partially to look just enough to see there was somebody right behind him.

"Robbie?"

He nearly fell off his chair when this tall gorgeous woman came seemingly out of nowhere to look for him.

"Yes!" the skinny boy cleared his throat. "Robbie Shapiro, cyber crimes and anything computer-adjacent."

A light blinked followed by a harsh beeping sound.

"Excuse me," he leaned into the speaker beside the light. "What?"

"Shapiro! This is Sikowitz! I'm going home early, so you're going to take over. Okay, bye!"

The light went out and he begrudgingly put on a headset with a microphone positioned in front of his mouth.

"and...substitute dispatch," he sighed. "What can I do for you?"

He turned on the left most monitor of his three-screen display to show a satellite map of the town.

"I was wondering if you could help me with a little something. I'm To-"

"You're Tori Vega," he finished with a nod.

"That's...right...how...how did you know that?" she asked.

The pale fellow smirked and showed Tori the layout.

"Please...it's my business to know."

Tori pursed her lips quizzically.

"When you blues are out and about, think of me as your eye in the sky. The whisper in your ear," he added with a wink.

Tori put her hands on her hips.

"Is this you trying to flirt with me?"

"Is it working?" he asked with a lifted brow.

She shook her head.

"Oh..." he frowned. "In that case, what brings down to my command center?"

A raucous laughter echoed from the open door.

"HAHAHAHA...command center...HAHAHA..."

"Thanks, Luther" Robbie sighed.

"Look, I need to know if this town has traffic cams."

He blinked and turned around, waving for Tori to come closer.

"I've got four along the main street, we mostly use these to catch speeders honestly."

"Anything facing the woods?" Tori asked.

"No," he answered.

Tori sighed.

"I take it the boys had already checked for any footage of the two victims."

Robbie nodded.

Tori rubbed her head, thinking hard.

"Tell you what," she pointed to the monitor showing a view of the diner. "I want you to wind back to the last times we see Lin Deering entering and exiting that diner. I need to know if we can catch a glimpse of anyone paying extra attention to her."

"What are you thinking?"

The Latina cleared her throat.

"Perhaps this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. Most serial killers stalk and plan. Get me?"

Robbie leaned over and Tori picked up another person has entered.

"THERE YOU ARE!" huffed Beck.

"Sorry, been down here. Looking for possible ways to find this guy."

Beck nodded, briefly acknowledging Robbie.

"I'm a bit slammed today," Beck sighed. "Andre didn't come in, I'm sure you heard."

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"They said he wasn't feeling good."

He then handed Tori a small green piece of paper.

"Can you head to the crime lab, please?"

"What's this?" Tori asked.

"The lab's not here. You've got to go about a mile down the road."

She turned the hand drawn address right side up to read it.

"What are they checking on?"

"Footprints from the dumping spots," he replied. "Before you ask, the soles themselves come from a fairly common boot."

He leaned in, showing a yellow legal pad with his own notes.

"But we were able to gather that this is a big guy. At least 200 pounds from the impression. If this guy is in any way fit, then we're talking six feet tall at a minimum." Beck shook his head in disappointment. "Sadly, most men around here can fit that profile."

His eyes swiftly darted to the scraggly gadget guy. Like he said, most men around here.

"So, what else do you have to go on?" asked Tori.

"We carted off samples of the soil found within the footprints. Maybe they can reveal something of significance."

Tori nodded.

"Okay, Beck. I'll check it out."

She about to leave when she turned back.

"If you hear from Andre, let me know. I'm a little worried."

Tori was sure the man could handle himself, but she was haunted by that face. He barely said a word the rest of the day and now today, he was a no-show.

"I will," Beck nodded with an encouraging smile.

His eyes gave him away, though.

As he left, and she was preparing herself, Tori turned back to Robbie.

"Remember what we discussed."

"I'm on it!" he gave the thumbs up.

Jade paced back and forth, having been on the phone with Dr. Reynolds for a half hour. After the bombshell she just dropped him, he had to constantly put her on hold to check with some people. Now that they had a possible identity, it was a whole process to reach out to the next of kin.

"Sorry about that," he said out of breath.

"Slow down, old timer!" grinned Jade. "I don't want to explain to Camille that I gave you a heart attack."

"Yeah, well, the clock's been ticking on this one and now we FINALLY have a name!"

The medical examiner smiled, knowing Greg he wasted no time to give Donna Blakely a proper name on her drawer.

His respect for the deceased was passed onto her. Jade took it even further and got into the habit of having one-way conversations with the corpses. Not as morbid as you'd think. The blonde would make small talk in between recording her autopsy notes on the mini cassette recorder. Jade was a bit old school when it came to that. Talking through her first autopsies helped her push through her nervousness, usually between her and her mentor.

When Jade started doing these examinations on her own, it was too quiet in the morgue. For her own sanity and to remind herself of the humanity of the poor soul on the slab, she began talking to them. If she were in a jaunty mood, Jade would say things like "pardon me" when making a more invasive exploration.

She had seen other medical examiners and they were as cold and calculating as a mechanic working on a car. That wasn't Jade's style. No matter how messy, or unpleasant the job gets, she can never lose sight of the person's humanity. Besides, her Auntie Bev believed in energy left behind the dead. Negative energy can be driven away, positive can be attracted, one can turn in favor of the other.

Jade imagined the ghost of the deceased standing beside her and hoped they would appreciate her compassion and respect.

"Jade?"

"Yeah?"

"You did an amazing thing, today. Just wanted to let you know that! Now we can begin the steps in putting Donna to rest."

She blushed, not used to praise in any form.

"Hey, real quick because I know you're busy, have you met the new detective?"

"No! But I hope to either today or tomorrow. We'll cross paths eventually."

"I talked with Andre the other day but I forgot to ask what her name was."

"Um..." he mused, examining his notes. "Tori...Tori Vega."

"Tori Vega, eh?"

"Yep..." the sound of a door opening came through. "Oops, what time is it? Gotta run, take care!"

The call disconnected and Jade set her phone down on the glass table.

"Tori Vega...what kind of name is that?"

Tori entered the lab, and a short figure was hunched over the microscope.

"Excuse me?"

"This is a restricted area!" the woman said very tersely with a raised finger.

The tan woman rolled her eyes as she got her badge ready.

"Detective Tori Vega," she declared.

A strand of red hair bisected the view of a single brown eye as the head turned her direction.

"LAPD?" the woman in the white lab coat asked. "Isn't this a bit outside your territory?"

"It is," Tori admitted, pulling up a stool identical to the one her colleague was using. "But they called me in for some support."

The redhead sat up straight, brushed back her bright mane and regarded the stranger.

"You're working with Andre and Beck?"

"That's right," Tori nodded. "And you are...?"

She seemed almost offended that this person infiltrated her turf and didn't bother to bone up on whose domain this was?

"Cat Valentine..." the scientist announced with a prideful folding of the arms. "And before you ask, NO, that's not why my hair is this color!"

Tori made a small sound of confirmation that she understood.

"So, why is your head that color?"

The petite woman in white clearly didn't have naturally red hair, because red hair actually wasn't most of the time. It ran anywhere from auburn to orange really. This was a very eye-popping red. Crimson, if Tori had to guess.

(If you're gonna dye your hair, go big or go home I guess.)

(Now she's probably noticing that you're just staring at it.)

"Do we have a problem?" she asked, arms folded.

"No!" Tori blurted out. "I'm sorry. I just never seen that shade before. It looks...nice."

Cat's features softened.

"I'm a little busy, detective. What do you need?"

"Beck sent me to see if you found anything on those footprints."

The redhead dashed to a small refrigerator and opened it, white puffy fog pouring out. Tori cranked her neck, trying to see what discovery she was about to reveal only for the scientist to pull out a big Hershey's chocolate bar with almonds. She smacked the door shut on the fridge and tore into the wrapper to take a heroic bite of the candy.

"Got a sweet tooth, huh?" Tori smiled.

"I've got a heart condition," Cat said while chewing with her mouth full. Despite this, she was still understandable. "I can't handle caffeine, so sugar is the only way I can get energy. Most days, I'm the only one in this lab and the days get long, so..."

Tori nodded, admiring the shorter one's commitment.

"Just hope your family isn't prone to diabetes."

Cat swallowed before setting down her chocolate.

"No, thank God!"

"Did you find anything about the soil samples?"

Cat gestured for Tori to follow her across the lab to a table that had two separate clear containers with dirt inside both. They looked identical.

"This one..." she indicated to the first container on the right. "Is from the where they found the Bethany Bannister." Both pairs of brown eyes shifted to the second container. "And here we have soil obtained from in and around the suspect's supposed footprint."

Tori rested her hands on the cold metal countertop.

"Noticed any difference?" Tori queried.

"Yes, actually!" Cat smirked. "Whomever trudged through the dirt and the mud brought a mineral with him that isn't part of the ground."

(FINALLY! A clue!)

"And what was it?"

Cat cleared her throat and rushed over to the microscope.

"I was doing the same thing with the sight of Lin Deering's discovery." She stepped aside from the microscope. "Have a look."

Tori closed her left eye while staring down the ocular lens with her right.

"What you see here is the same thing I found at the other site," the redhead explained. "Those are calcium carbonate crystals."

"What does that mean?"

Cat made an exaggerated grumble.

"From the top," she said, making herself comfortable on her trusty stool. "CaCO3, or calcium carbonate, is a component found in sedimentary rocks like dolomite and limestone. These types of minerals are where we make things like chalk or clay from."

Tori made the mental note to look up what "sedimentary" means.

"Anyway, contact with water is a factor in forming calcium deposits. Hard water, or water with a lot of heat generate different results. You know when you get that gunky stuff in pipes or tea kettles? That's limescale."

"But where are these sedentary rocks found?" she pressed.

The scientist snorted at the officer's error.

"That's sedimentary!" Cat corrected. "Sedimentation happens when particles in suspension settle out of the fluid in which they are entrained and come to rest against a barrier."

Tori blinked, causing the redhead's face to fall.

"You know the Grand Canyon?"

The detective nodded.

"Basically, what I mentioned, unbothered by humans, over the course of millions of years."

The Latina leaned in, her patience wearing thin.

"Wherever your man had been, he was around rock formations such as on a cliff or in a cave. So, this guy may have a hobby as a climber or spelunker"

"That's at least something to go on!"

She prepared to leave.

"Thank you, Cat. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you."

The redhead just stood there as the cop exited the doors.

"What an oddball," she sighed, chomping into her candy bar.

"You're not eating!"

Traylor just stared down at the plate of white rice and beef cubes. Beside the arrangement was a bottle of low sodium soy sauce and on the opposite end was a tall glass of iced tea. Her legs and torso were tied to the chair but her arms were untethered so she could eat.

Going to the bathroom was the worst part. He would handcuff her left hand to the water pipe behind the toilet, leaving her dominant hand free. The first time he tried this, Traylor ripped the pipe off the wall, causing water to leak into the bathroom.

He didn't like that.

She lost her bathroom privileges that day. Once he subdued her, so she was quiet enough, Hal got a plumber in there to fix it.

Despite the rumbling in her stomach, Traylor didn't wish to accept the otherwise good-looking food before her. She actually liked white rice and beef. Though not with soy sauce. Even when she ordered Chinese, she would avoid the stuff like the plague. Too salty for her liking. Traylor much preferred duck sauce or sweet and sour sauce. Had she been at home and made this herself, she would have reached for the buffalo sauce.

"Come on, Traylor..."

Hal's attempt at a calming voice grated on her nerves. One minute he had her bound and gagged, and now he wanted to make a nice supper. She felt like Sally in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, trapped at this demented dining room table with a psycho.

"Can't you just kill me already and get it over with?"

Hal frowned.

"I know those first few days were rough. I'll be the first to admit. It's always an adjustment."

(Why is this asshole talking like we're a married couple?)

"Hal...you need to let me go!"

"You don't understand, Traylor..."

(CHRIST ON A STICK, KEEP MY NAME OUT OF YOU'RE FILTHY MOUTH!)

"There's a killer out there!"

The woman just narrowed her eyes at the creep.

"I KNOW, IDIOT! I'M LOOKING AT HIM RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" she shouted.

Something changed in Hal's eyes. Like someone flipped a switch. The large man charged over with such animal-like intensity, Traylor wasn't sure if he was going to throttle her or flip the table. She flinched in her seat, but sheer nerves kept her eyes open.

Hal got so close to her personal space; she couldn't stand it. His breath was hot on her cheek and her appetite went out the window.

"I'm. Not. A. Killer."

His voice was so quiet and shaky, it actually terrified her more than if he screamed those words.

"Don't ever say that again!"

The man turned his back to her and slowly walked back to the other end of the long wooden table. Hal had the windows throughout the house shut, which was a no-brainer given the temperature outside. And the shades were drawn whenever Traylor was in a room with windows. The only light in the dining room was the small brass chandelier that emitted a warm amber glow.

It barely illuminated the room, just enough to see the table really. So, when Hal walked away, it looked as if he was retreating back into the shadows. Traylor didn't know where this guy came from but whatever rock he crawled out of; he dragged her back down with him.

Whenever they had gotten together, the "transaction" happened within the confines of Hal's dark blue Chevy blazer. She was surprised a mad on his stature could have sex inside a car, but he managed it. When it was all finished, he paid her and kindly dropped her off at a spot of her choosing. No way in hell was she going to allow him to find out where she lived. There were awkward moments when she caught him at the diner while on the job. But he was cordial, an average polite customer.

There were no red flags, if she were completely honest.

So, imagine her disbelief that she was in his house, and it felt like being in the den of a grizzly bear. But instead of mauling her outright, this predator would rather play with his prey first. But when that was all finished, what was his endgame?

What did he want?

The sun had set, and the main drag of Langley rested under the dark sky. Tori took notice of the stars, completely obscured by the less than favorable atmosphere hovering over Los Angeles. She had to admit that the air felt better here. There were plenty of older couples milling about. The life expectancy here must be tremendous.

This time of day, back home, Tori's ears would have been inundated with sirens, horns honking, and verbal spats in every conceivable language. Up here, noise pollution wasn't a prevalent thing. She did appreciate the change of pace. The quiet gave her the ability to think.

Brown eyes glanced over to the local tavern and a familiar face was hunched over at the bar, drinking a beer.

Tori went right inside and was greeted by Reba McEntire on the speakers. She wasn't the biggest country fan, but occasionally vibed with country-pop acts like Reba or Shania Twain. The detective walked through the sparse crowd and sat right next to her partner, who had been absent the last day and a half.

"You don't know how to play hooky, do you?" she smirked. "Most people stay home for that."

Andre put down his nearly empty beer and regarded the Latina with quiet disdain.

"What..." he attempted but was derailed by a belch. "What do you want, Vega?"

The senior detective's speech was slurred. Tori knew this wasn't going to be a friendly interaction.

"The precinct is worried about you. Might want to...make an appearance, you know?"

He groaned, not willing to make eye contact.

"I know you're upset about about Traylor..." His fist came flying, but she stopped it just as quickly. By comparison, her arm was more stable than his wet noodle of a limb. "I know you're UPSET about her, but this isn't how you deal with your feelings, Harris!"

Andre attempted to rise but his legs said NOPE and he went down.

"This is getting embarrassing," Tori sighed.

She bent down and used everything she had to help him back up.

"Okay, big guy..." huffed Tori. "Let's get you out of here."

"What are you, arresting me?" He chuckled as they left.

"Yeah, as much as I would want you to sober up where I can keep an eye on you, a holding cell wouldn't work. Take it from someone who knows about reputations. Showing up to work drunk is a bad look!"

"Then where are we going...Vega?" Andre slurred.

"Home. Keys, now!"

With a nudge of her shoulder, Tori managed to get the front door open where it whacked against the nearby wall. She huffed as she continued to assist the man into his own house. Thank God Andre didn't attempt to drive; he could barely walk.

She saw a sofa and limped over to it. Tori let gravity to most of the work while keeping control of his descent downwards. Andre's limp form made it onto the couch, mostly. Tori then lifted his right leg to join its brother. The detective looked him over for signs of shivering to see if he was cold. Just in case, she nabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over him.

Tori yawned, remembering that her car was back at the tavern.

(That will just have to be a problem for Morning Tori. But for now...)

Andre rolled to his side, clutching his stomach.

"Not agreeing with you, buddy?" she mildly teased. "Don't go anywhere."

Tori ran into the kitchen, checking the pantry, the cupboards, until she found an empty bucket under the sink. She hurried back, hearing his pained moans. Her partner sounded like he was going to be sick, and she prepared by getting the grey bucket situated beside him. All he had to do was roll over and aim.

By the time she had the portable vomit bucket at the ready, his moans quieted, and he eventually passed out.

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Tori plopped into a reading chair adjacent to the couch where she had a good view of Andre's head. If her partner needed a little help during the night, at least she would be close by.

More yawns escaped the woman's mouth as she observed Andre sleeping.

"This is why I don't deal with partners!" she muttered.

A/N: That was a HUGE chapter and I suspect the next one will be too.

I'm doing this because I want to get Jade home already!