Alicia was finishing up her work just as the sun touched the distant horizon.  She had stopped at the warehouse before heading over to the site to pick up the boxes of components she needed, and made no less than ten trips to the car and back once she arrived, but it was finally done.  Now, when HTI got the go ahead to move into the building, all she and her team would have to do was hook up the monitoring systems.

Collapsing all the boxes down into one, she took the lift down for the last time that day.  Dumping the empty boxes into the dumpster, she headed towards the security office to let the guard on duty know she was leaving.  Seeing that the lights were on, she walked up the steps, stopping on the top on to peek in to make sure the guard was there and not on rounds.

Seeing a tall, lanky, man in a white supervisor's shirt, bent over a filing cabinet, she knocked.  The man stood up, startled. He kicked the drawer shut and came over to the door.  "Can I help you?"

"Just wanted to let you know I'm leaving for the night."  Looking past the man, she noticed a bright multi-colored tuft of hair sticking out of the nearly shut file drawer.

"You the lady that was working up on the sixth floor?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll make sure that Tommy knows.  Have a good night." He shut the office door.

Jumping off the steps, Alicia muttered, "You too, turkey."

Stopping on the way home to pick up a large salad, a Citra soda, and a half-pint of milk she wondered if she would be able to get more unpacked before that neighbor of hers, Jim, could complain about the noise.

Sitting down at her computer terminal, she sent off a progress report to the home office, ate her salad and sipped on her soda.   After that, she tried to get more of her books unpacked and on the shelves before hooking up her television.

Done with what she'd planned on doing for the night, she clicked on the TV in time to catch the local news.  The second story caught her attention. "...And to follow up on the story we've brought you so far, the string of convenience store robberies continues to baffle the police.  There have been eleven stores hit so far, and the police admitted today that they haven't got much to go on, and are requesting the help of Cascade's citizens.  We go to Talia Shires for the rest.  Talia?"

"Don, this is what the police have so far.  The gunman enters the store, wearing a clown costume complete with one of those 'rainbow' wigs, demands money from the registers only, then disappears on foot.  Up until this latest robbery, no one had been hurt.  Now, 20 year old Jeff Claiborne, a student at the Greater Northwest Technical School, is dead.  Now that these robberies have turned deadly, the case has been handed over to Major Crimes and Captain Simon Banks assured me that he has his best people on the case, but that his department could still use some help from the public.  So, if you have seen something suspicious, or think that you may have seen the suspect leaving the area of one of the stores that was robbed, please get in touch with any of the detectives in the Major Crimes unit.  We'll have a list of the stores hit so far, and the phone number to Major Crimes, posted on the screen before out next commercial break.  Back to you in the studio, Don."

"Thank you, Talia.  So there we have it folks.  We often expect our police here in Cascade to be everywhere and know everything.  But they can't do their job without our help.  Here's the list of stores and the phone number that Talia promised.  When we come back, Steve will tell us about this weekend's weather."

Alicia watched as the list of stores and addresses scrolled up her TV screen, and realized that one of them, the eighth, was the 7-11 just up the block from her office building.  Her mind clicked into high gear and she turned back to her computer, shutting out the sound of her TV, and pulled up a map of Cascade on the monitor. She pulled up the local news to find the addresses of the robbed convenience stores then she highlighted the addresses on the map.

Wondering if she was jumping to conclusions, she printed off the map, and grabbed up her car keys and a light jacket, intent on learning a bit more about her new city. Maybe she would be able to ferret out the connection between the string of robberies.

After driving around for just over an hour, checking seven of the sites at random, she thought she noticed a pattern.  "Go back, Al.  What is it you're seeing that you're not seeing?"  Going back to the last store, the one
closest to her company's construction site, she parked and got out to look around. Hallstatt Trust, International was highly involved with neighborhood renovation projects.  This latest building, near the old warehouses of Cascade's dock area, was a perfect example.  The lot had been empty, until the project coordinators came in and drew up a plan that would fit in the area. There were a few other nearby construction sites that were also reclaiming and renovating the area, turning the once borderline slum into a
beautiful business district, or at least that was the hoped for plan.

She glanced over the billboard that advertised:
Future Home of Hallstatt Trust International
Brought to you by Cascade First National Bank and Cascade Contractors.
Security provided by Delta One.

She remembered the security officer in the trailer earlier that night, and the wig in the filing cabinet.

She got back in her car and drove to the other sites to see if she was right.  Only two of the other sites had construction sites near by protected by Delta One. The other stores were close to the security company's main office, except for two of them.  One was close to a Family Planning Center, the other by a warehouse. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed up the security company.

"Delta One."

"Yes, I hate to bother you, but I'm shopping around for a security company in your area.  Could I possibly get a list of references from you?"  Alicia smiled; the accent she had affected was decidedly European.

"I'm not sure I can do that, Ma'am.  It's after hours, I don't have access to that information."

"Oh."  She put disappointment into her tone. "Very well then, I'll just take our contract elsewhere, then..."

"Ma'am?  Hold a minute will you?"

"Certainly."  She listened to the piped music, which was really irritating, as the obviously flustered secretary did whatever it was she was doing.

"Ma'am, sorry about that.  Where are you calling from, I forgot."

"Germany.  My company is looking to move a base of operations there to Cascade and we'll need good security to protect our investment."

"I thought this was a long distance call.  Ma'am if you could give me a fax number, I'll gladly fax you a list of our most recent contractors for reference."

Alicia sighed, "Wundervoll!"  She rattled off a fax number to her office in Hallstatt.  Then concluding the call with the security company, she disconnected and called Germany.

"Wilhelm! Guter Nachmittas, ist es Alicia." She switched over to English. "There's a fax about to come into you from Cascade, Washington.  I don't have time to explain, just scan the pages into the secure modem and e-mail it to me.  No, everything is looking just fine.  I'll need the technical team here in two days; the new office should be able to open up in three weeks. No, I found a place.  Quite nice actually.  Not like my home in Vienna, but nice. Yes, I know.  But think of it this way, you're not losing a boss; you're gaining a larger office.  Auf Wiedersehen!"  She hung up and drove back to her apartment.

The expected e-mail was waiting for her.  Reading over the information, she found her connection.  All of the stores in question had contracted to Delta One to provide roving patrols.  But the same company didn't own the stores. There were four different holders involved and one 'mom & pop' set up.

Typing up a fast letter outlining her suspicions, she hoped that Cascade PD would take her information seriously.  Not wanting to get involved, and knowing the current forensic techniques, she handled the letter and the envelope with cotton gloves.  Feeding the envelope into her laser printer, she printed on the outside MAJOR CRIMES.  She'd have Bernie, her courier, who was scheduled to drop off the latest update from Headquarters, deliver it to the station in the morning.

He couldn't stand it anymore.  He'd turned into bed early, hoping to get to sleep, but so far the condition had eluded his attempts to capture it. Knowing that his roommate had fallen into a deep sleep hours ago didn't help Jim's mood.  Deciding that he wasn't going to get there by trying, he pulled on a pair of shorts and an old tee shirt, and padded down the stairs.  Using the faint moonlight pouring into the loft from the balcony, he went over to the bookshelves, hoping to find something to read.  Spying his copy of Clancy's 'Executive Orders', he pulled it off the shelf to read for the fifth time. Opening the book as he walked over to the dining table, he groused, "Maybe this time through won't grip as bad and I can fall asleep."

Figuring that he'd need something to drink, maybe even a light snack, he laid the book down on the table, and went into the kitchen where he got a glass of ice water and a pear.  Seeing that Blair had returned the armchair to it's normal location, he pulled it back by the windows and flipped on the reading lamp, which his partner had neglected to move.  Settling down, he started to read the gripping tale of President Jack Ryan.

Somewhere between the third and fourth chapters, he must have dozed off, for the piercing blare of a car alarm startled him badly enough that he dropped the book from his lap as he jumped to his feet.

Reacting on instinct, he headed out of the loft, grabbing his sidearm as he ran down the stairs and into the parking area. Exiting the building, he almost tripped over a small black kitten which screeched, hissed, arched it's back and disappeared into the alley.  Shaking his head, he headed over to the car whose alarm was painfully penetrating the still night air.  Seeing no one around the vehicle, he approached, carefully keeping his weapon pointed at the ground by his right side.

Inspecting the car, he saw that the leather bra on the front end was scratched, as if by sharp little claws, and there were tiny muddy paw-prints on the hood.  Realizing that the kitten he'd almost tripped on might have
been the culprit, he started to head back into the building, only to be stopped by the sight of a bright red dot upon his chest, right over the heart.

"Move away from the car, slowly.  Drop the gun."

Alicia had responded to the sound of her car's alarm, and had grabbed her handgun on the way out of her apartment, expecting to find that the alarm had run off the thief.  But she found a tall man, dressed in a white tee shirt and faded khaki shorts, standing near her Subaru, holding a gun.  Engaging the laser sight on her own weapon, she centered the sight on the man's chest.

The alarm on the car was still shrilly cutting through his hearing, but Jim heard the words clearly enough.  He complied with the orders, stopping four paces away from the car.  The next orders from the woman caught him by surprise.

"Down on the ground, belly first, keeping your arms spread out."

'Felony drop,' his mind supplied.  He'd done it often enough, but to have it done to him was humiliating.  He dropped as the woman ordered, wondering how he was going to explain his way out of this.  He hadn't exactly grabbed any ID when he'd barreled out of the loft.

Keeping her sight targeted on the man, Alicia used one hand to hold her gun, the other to dig out her key chain and turn off the alarm.  She heard someone come out of the door behind her and spun around, only to pull up as she recognized Blair Sandburg.

He had been awakened by the sound of the car alarm and bolted out of his room, only to find that Jim was gone and the door to the loft was hanging open. Pulling on a pair of jeans with his nightshirt, he headed out to find Jim, grabbing his and Jim's police ID off the side table as he ran. Running past several of the neighbors, he advised them to get back inside, and they complied, knowing that Blair and his fellow cop roommate would handle the situation.

Reaching the glass door, Blair paused to look out to the parking area, seeing Jim spread-eagled on the ground, a laser point on the center of his back. Alicia Andreson was holding a veritable canon on his partner. Opening the door, he flinched as the short woman turned, automatically tracking her gun towards him.  He let out a sigh of relief when she pulled the gun up and returned to holding it on Jim.

Alicia was relieved to see it was the one person she knew could handle this situation for her.  "Blair, would you mind calling this in?  This jerk was messing around my car."

Blair let out a small chuckle. "Alicia, put the gun down.  That 'jerk' is my partner and my roommate."  He walked up to her and handed over Jim's badge folder with his photo ID.

Glancing over the badge and ID, she lowered her gun, turning off the laser sight.  "Oh, shit."  She walked over to the man she had dropped on the ground and squatted next to him.  "Why didn't you identify yourself?  I could've shot you."

Rolling over to his back, Jim sat up and looked at his assailant. He was surprised to see it was the lady he'd talked to the previous night about her stereo. He grinned as Sandburg came over to help him to his feet. "You didn't give me a chance.  And it's not like I had any proof on me."  He gestured down at his attire.

Handing over the ID folder, Alicia grinned.  "No kidding!"  Getting back to her feet, she walked over to her car.  "Wonder what set off the alarm?"

Jim approached her side. "I think it may have been a cat I saw."  He pointed out the paw prints on the hood.

"A cat?  What cat?  Did you see it?"

Hearing the concern in her voice, he answered.  "Saw it?  I almost broke my neck tripping over it.  Small, black, bad attitude and a loud voice.  Took off towards the alley."

As Alicia walked towards the alley, Jim confessed to Blair, "I swear, Chief, I never heard her approach.  I still can't get over that.  I should have heard her."

"Jim, you're tired.  The alarm was still blaring.  It's okay."  Blair moved in and started massaging the small of his partner's back, trying to calm him.

"She dropped me.  Me.  I'm usually the one who drops others first.  She caught me off guard."  He looked over his shoulder to where the blond was looking for the cat.

Blair raised his hand to Jim's shoulder, "Hey, Alicia may have gotten the drop on you, but she didn't 'drop' you."

"Yeah.  Maybe."

Watching her movements, Jim caught the slight whisper of her talking to herself, or to something that he couldn't see.  "Damn it, Sanjee. I hope you tire of this game soon."  He turned back to his roommate as she turned to come back to them.

Alicia returned to where the two men stood next to her car.  She stopped in her tracks as she took in the sight of the two of them standing close together, Blair's hand on Jim's back, moving in small circles.  'Aw hell, cops, partners and from the look of things...' She didn't complete her thought, only walked over to them and apologized. "Sorry about this, Blair, Jim."  Alicia held out her empty right hand, clutching her gun in her left.

Blair shook her hand, "Not a problem, Alicia.  I'm just really glad you didn't shoot Jim here.  It's taken me years to get him broken in."

Jim aimed a gentle cuff in his direction, only to have Blair duck under the swat.  "I'll give you broken in, Chief."

Alicia ignored the by play going on and walked around them to examine her car again, feeling, rather than seeing, the scratches on the leather bra.  "Damn cat.  I'll have to replace it now."  She wet a finger and gently rubbed at one of the paw prints, "At least it didn't scratch up the paint." She turned just as a marked police unit pulled into the parking area. "Aw, shit!"

Blair looked over his shoulder to where Alicia was looking, and, seeing the unit, volunteered, "I'll talk to them." He trotted off, leaving Jim with her.

Bending over to retrieve his gun, Jim noticed the one in her hand. Straightening, he said, "That's quite a piece, Miss..."  He knew her first name, but couldn't recall Blair ever mentioning her last.

"Andreson.  Guess we never got around to introductions the other night." She smiled as she 'safed' her gun, jacking the slide back to drop the round out of the chamber, dropping the magazine out and handing it over to the officer.

"Uh, no, we didn't.  Jim Ellison."  He gingerly took the proffered gun and examined it, having noticed how smoothly and quickly that she'd readied it for his inspection.  "Nice. Glock model 29.  Built in laser sight.  Just what is it you do for a living that you have a weapon like this?"  He handed the gun back to her, watching as she made it ready just as fast as she had taken it down earlier.

Alicia shrugged. "It's for self defense.  I read up on Cascade before moving here, figured I might need it."

Jim nodded. "Uh, huh.  You certainly seem to know how to handle it."

She couldn't resist. A teasing quality entered her voice, and she leaned close to him. "I'm a woman of many talents, Jim.  You'd be surprised by what I know and can do." The faint light from a street lamp allowed her to see him blush at her words. The grin that crossed her face could be termed evil.  She pulled away just as Blair came back over to them, the police unit driving off.

"That's taken care of.  Harris and Tucker will file the report as 'unfounded'.  One of our neighbors called in the alarm."  He didn't fail to notice Jim's discomfort, or the flirting, teasing grin on Alicia's face. Clearing his throat, he added, "Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I've had enough excitement for the night and only have a few more hours to grab some sleep before I have to be awake again."

Alicia grinned slyly at the younger of the two men, "You're right.  I have a long day planned and have been awake too long as it is."  She leaned over and kissed Blair on the cheek. "Thanks for your help, again, and Jim?"  He looked at her. "Sorry about the mix up.  It won't happen again."  She turned and walked back towards the building.

Jim watched as she entered the building, so lost in his thoughts he almost missed Blair's comment.

"Wow.  She's something else!"

"Yeah, but what?"  His question came out a snarl, almost a full growl.

"Jim?  What's with the attitude?  Alicia apologized."

Shaking his head, "I'm not sure, Chief.  There's just something about her that sets off warning bells in my head.  I mean, why would she need a piece of hardware like that Glock?  Most women who have a gun for self defense get something like a Lady Smith or something similar."

Blair threw his hands up in disgust, "You get off to a bad start with someone and you start looking for trouble?  I don't get you, man."  He started walking towards the building, leaving Jim to catch up.

"I just don't like mysteries, Chief.  She's a mystery."  He started climbing the steps behind the guide.

"She's an insurance investigator, not a mystery.  Jim, man, let it go. She's a nice lady, and our neighbor."

"Sure, whatever you say, Chief."

Entering the loft, Jim glanced at the clock on the microwave, and realized that, with the adrenaline coursing through his body from the false alarm, he really had no chance of ever getting to sleep that night.  Correction, that morning.  Returning to the chair and his book, he was amazed that the car alarm hadn't awakened more people.  Seeing that Blair was watching him from the door to his room, he said, "Go back to bed, Sandburg.  I'm just going to finish this chapter and I'll try to get back to sleep."

"You actually got some sleep earlier?"

"A little."

Raking his hands through his sleep and wind tangled hair, he gave up gracefully.  "Okay.  I have the alarm set for six-thirty.  See you in a little bit."  Blair entered his room, closed the door and collapsed on his bed.  He was asleep in moments.

Upon waking up that morning to find Jim back in the armchair reading, Blair had made the decision to keep close tabs on his friend.  The morning routine had gone fairly smoothly, only Jim had chosen to wear a dark and somber outfit that practically screamed 'I'm in a shitty mood, don't even *think* of messing with me.'  So Blair had chosen to dress in a more relaxed, more approachable outfit, which meant tan Dockers, blue tee shirt and his favorite flannel shirt.  Figuring that he'd be acting as go-between all day for the other detectives and anyone else who needed something from Jim, he wanted to remind the others of his time before he became a cop.

They had no sooner walked into the bullpen than they were greeted by Captain Banks' morning bellow.  It was almost becoming routine. "Ellison, Sandburg. Now!"  The call of the Captain came from his office loud and clear through the open door. As they passed Rhonda's desk, she smiled in sympathy.

"Captain?"  Jim asked as he entered the office two steps ahead of Blair.

Simon looked up from the letter in his hand, "Well, you're looking better, Jim."  He dropped the paper on his desk.  "We got a possible lead on your robbery/murder case this morning."

Blair perked up, a lead would mean, could mean, closing the case quickly and removing a stress factor for Jim which would hopefully lead to the man being able to sleep.  "We did?  How?"

Picking up the letter and its envelope, Simon handed the document over to the young detective.  "Looks like someone out there in our fair city may have come up with the connection you two have been looking for."

Reading the letter over Blair's shoulder, Jim grimaced.  "Captain, this is pretty thin.  Who ever sent this is implicating someone in one of the best security companies around, a company that employs a number of retired cops."

"I know that, Ellison."  Simon handed over another piece of paper to the skeptical detective.  "That was also in the envelope.  If you take a look at that, you'll see that the informant took care to highlight the positions of
the convenience stores, and the sites where Delta One provides security and their home office.  Almost all the sites are within one to two blocks of each other."

Blair took the map from Jim and looked it over, then went back to the letter that had accompanied it.  "Well, that's interesting."

"What is, Chief?"

"Read for yourself,"  He handed the letter to the sentinel. "See it?  The informant speculates that the shooting may have spooked the perp, they use that exact word by the way, and that we should keep an eye on the three stores near this site."  He pointed to the map and a location marked down by the docks.

Simon had stood up and come around his desk to see what Blair was talking about. "Sandburg, that whole area is in the process of being renovated by several companies.  It's one of the Mayor's pet projects."

Jim had to agree. "Simon's right, Chief.  Besides, this whole thing could be a set up to draw us away from the true target."  He waved the letter to prove his point, only to catch a faint odor wafting off the page.  It was a vaguely familiar scent, but from where?

"Maybe, but somehow I don't think so."

Simon looked at the younger half of his best team. "Okay, tell me why, Sandburg."

He shrugged. "Can't really say.  But look, the entire letter has a formal feel to it.  The writer is well educated, and well versed in terms that only a few outside the law enforcement community would be knowledgeable of."

Simon walked over to his coffee maker and poured a cup for himself. "Sandburg, the public is more aware of those terms thanks to Hollywood and mystery novelists.  Sell me on this."

Blair raked his hair back, taking the time to pull a hairband out of his pocket to secure the unruly mass into a short ponytail.  "Okay, I can see two possible scenarios here.  One, this informant is the partner of the clown and the murder has sickened him or her to the point where they no longer want to participate."  He waited for Simon to nod in understanding, which he did, then continued.  "Two, the writer is a retired cop who saw something, but didn't pull all the pieces together until the newscast last night.  I'm assuming this didn't come in by mail?"  He waved the map.

"No, desk sergeant on duty downstairs said it was delivered by a courier around seven-thirty."  Simon sat back down and pulled out a cigar.

"Okay, so if it is a retired cop, they want to help, but for whatever reason don't feel like getting involved."  He turned to see if his partner was following him. "Oh shit."

Simon looked up to see the blank expression on Jim's face that was typical for a zone out. "How long?"

Blair made physical contact with Jim, dropping his voice into his 'guide' mode, and answered.  "I don't know, I never noticed.  Jim?  Come on here, buddy.  Grab the dials and pull them back down to a three.  Sorry I didn't catch this earlier."  He proceeded to rub his hand up and down the small of the sentinel's back, giving the man two things to concentrate on, hearing and touch.

Jim came back to reality and muttered, "That scent.  I know it."

"What scent, Jim?  Is that what caught your attention?"

Jim looked at Blair, noting the concern in his shaman's eyes.  He had the grace to look, and feel, sheepish. "Let me guess.  Zoned?"

Simon let out the breath he'd been holding while Blair had coaxed the detective back from where ever a zone took him.  "Jim, as many times as I've seen you do that, I'm still not used to it."

Jim nodded. "Sometimes I'm not either, if that's any consolation, Simon."

"Not really."

Blair broke into the conversation. "Jim, you said something about a smell, a scent?"

Getting back on track, he nodded. "I think our informant is a woman, Captain."

"Why is that?"  Simon started to chew on the cigar he had pulled out earlier.

"Because if I smelled that scent on a man, I'd be looking for a drag queen."

Blair let out a snort of laughter. "Man, your time in Vice is showing through."  He controlled himself and continued, "Can you tell what the scent is, Jim?  A perfume?"

Jim shook his head. "If it is, it's not one I recognize, but the overall scent is somewhat familiar.  I just can't place it."

Tilting his head, Blair looked up at his partner. "That could be why you zoned.  You were trying to place where you had smelled that scent before. Smell is a powerful memory trigger, even in those of us who aren't 'gifted'. For you, it could be ten times more powerful."

Simon cleared his throat. "Okay, you two.  Go do the legwork, see if our 'lady' is telling us straight.  If you come up with enough to prove it, we'll set up surveillance on the stores that she recommended."

He waited until the two detectives had left the bullpen, before giving voice to his thoughts. "I just hope that we can catch this 'clown' before he hurts someone else.  And can get this anonymous informant to step forward to testify if needed."