Title: These Little Earthquakes

Series: Monarch Butterfly 2/3

Author: Laura Lee

Email: vbrooks@if.rmci.net or alaskanrose515@hotmail.com

Rating: PG-13

 

DISCLAIMER: Alliance owns the DS world and its characters. I borrowed a tiny little thing from Remington Steele and the songs are copyrighted to their respective companies. No copyright infringement intended to any of these companies.if you want to come sue me, you can have my meager belongings..At least I had fun while it lasted!

 

 

 

Ray felt strange as he left his body for one that was not connected to his brain. He didn't even want to think about anything as he leaned closer to Victoria Brooks.

 

She felt him moving closer and closed her eyes. Her heart was racing and she knew this was what she wanted.

 

His body moved of its own will as his arm went around her shoulder. His eyes closed as his faced neared hers.

 

She thought at first that she only needed affection, but now she saw that it was Ray, he was the one she needed it from. Fraser was ...

 

He could feel her breath on his lips. It was warm and soft and just as he knew their lips would touch, he felt the warm breath form the words. "I kissed Fraser."

 

His brain and body reconnected and he bolted back in the seat. He felt as if he hadn't actually been there when the words were spoken, but his body told his head what he had heard. "You kissed Fraser?!"

 

She saw the horror on his face and it drew a single tear. "I needed you to know that, Ray, before...before anything happened."

 

"Fraser? Our Fraser? Constable, Mountie guy Fraser?"

 

"Ray?"

 

Ray stood in a trance and made his way for the door. Tori followed.

 

"Ray? Ray? I'm sorry. Ray, please come back here and talk to me."

 

He stepped through the doorway. "I can't talk to you right now, I..." he looked confused, then hurried away.

 

Brooks knew it wasn't worth following him. They would discuss it later.

 

*********

FIVE WEEKS LATER:

 

The season was warming as Victoria Brooks climbed off of her black motorcycle and removed her helmet. She stood before a boxing gym, a place she had been to every Monday and Friday for a month. The owner, Jim, unlocked the door and greeted her while she removed her jacket.

 

"Morning, Brooks," the owner said and looked at his watch. "I'm sorry I'm a little late today."

 

"It's ok, Jim, so was I. Apparently, Ray is too." She smiled and checked the street one more time. It was just then that she saw the familiar black GTO round the corner. She stepped in and hurried to the ladies locker room.

 

"Hey, Jim," Ray said as he hurried inside, followed by Fraser and Diefenbaker. "I guess she beat me again, eh? I see her bike out there."

 

"Yup," Jim replied. "She's getting ready. You better..."

 

She stepped out of the locker room and grinned. "One of these mornings, you're going to make it on time."

 

"It was my fault this morning," Fraser cut in. "I was detained."

 

Brooks nodded and put out her gloved hands to Fraser. "Can you tie me up?"

 

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Ray snickered with a nefarious grin and hurried into the men's locker room as Fraser tied her gloves for her. He emerged rather quickly to find her climbing into the ring. He put out his hands for Fraser to tie his gloves and then he had Fraser tie on his headgear. He watched her as he approached the ring. She was warming up and he noted her punches were strong and well controlled. He climbed in and they each took a stance.

 

Fraser stood at the edge of the ring and Dief barked. Fraser nodded to Diefenbaker, then looked back in. "Ready?" Ray braced himself and nodded. Tori nodded too and Fraser waved his hand.

 

Ray swung as quickly as he could, but once again Tori beat him to the first punch. She forced out his breath with the punch and she smiled. 'Should be used to it by now,' she thought. His punch barely hit her as she danced around him. He turned and hit again, knocking her head to the side. They made eye contact and he dared her to hit him again. She swung and he ducked.

 

Dief barked, distracting Ray only momentarily, but long enough for Tori to position herself. She shrugged her left shoulder, then punched him hard with her right. He was watching the left and the punch took him by surprise. He thought he'd seen most of her tricks, but this one was new. He knew that if he watched the shoulder, he would see which shoulder was actually carrying the punch and which punch was just a distraction. She'd faked him out before so he'd learned to watch the shoulder, not the arm. Now she was throwing trick shoulders, too. She had moved the distracting shoulder as if it carried the punch and had distracted him from the pressure she built up in her right.

 

He felt oddly defensive and went after her with a number of punches to the gut. He was showing such passion and sudden grace that she was spending too much time blocking to return any punches. She dodged and twisted, but he was on her everywhere. She was finally able to half dodge right, then jump to the left and lose him. He straightened slightly and blocked the incoming right punch, then swung his own right. She shook her head, but didn't let it phase her. Now she was the one who was angry. She blocked and punched several times before dancing away.

 

Dief barked again. Fraser nodded. "It's supposed to be friendly, isn't it?" he asked, but they didn't respond.

 

The fighting was starting to get dirty. She danced around and punched his gut in a way that made him lose his footing. He dropped to his knees, but was back up quickly to deliver a punch to her side.

 

Fraser climbed into the ring. "Perhaps..."

 

Tori took another swing that toppled Ray into Fraser. They both hit the ground. Tori stepped up to them and put out her glove to Ray, waiting for his response. Fraser scrambled to his feet, but Ray stayed. She stared into his eyes, unrelenting. Ray had too many thoughts running through his mind to make any sense of them. He lifted his hand and punched her glove. She nodded and climbed out of the ring. Fraser stayed in the ring to help Ray to his feet and untie his gloves and headgear. She saw Jim fixing a heavy bag and went to ask him to remove her gloves.

 

He nodded and started untying. "Something happen between you two?"

 

"No," she replied casually. "Why?"

 

"I've been watching you two for weeks and I've never seen you fight like real fighters. It's usually a bunch of taps for half an hour, then you're off."

 

She shrugged. "Nothing different this morning. I'm off to work." She took her things and hurried into the locker room.

 

She took her time changing into her work clothes. She knew Ray. He'd hurry in, change, and rush off to work, afraid of a confrontation with her. If she could just stall long enough, she wouldn't have to see him.

 

But he surprised her. She stepped out, gym bag slung over her arm, to see Fraser standing like he was on duty at the Consulate. He was in front of the GTO. Ray was standing next to her bike. She stopped in her tracks, but only a moment. She brushed past him and dropped her bag on the seat of the bike. She started to tie it down when Ray stepped toward her. "Just what were you trying to do in there?"

 

She shrugged. "Win, I guess."

 

He stepped closer. "It's never been about winning, has it? Did I miss something?" He raised his voice a little as he spoke.

 

Fraser recognized the tone and walked over.

 

Ray turned to him. "Fraze, I asked you to stay out of this."

 

Fraser didn't budge. "Ray, you said you were just going to talk to her."

 

"We are just talking," he confirmed.

 

"No, actually, you are yelling. Add to that your stance..."

 

Tori raised her hand. "It's ok, Constable. I think he knows better than to attack me."

 

Ray scoffed. "No I don't. I'm stupid. I'm crazy. Ask Fraser."

 

"I know you, Ray, better than you think."

 

"Do you?" he said and quickly jumped her, sending them both to the ground.

 

Fraser jumped and grabbed Ray off of her. He was too late, though. Both of them had already managed to get in a punch. As he was moving away she saw her chance to get Ray again and kicked. Fraser turned and stood between the two.

 

Ray and Tori glared at each other for several seconds. Finally Fraser spoke again. "Ray, we have a meeting first thing with Welsh, remember? I think it would be best for us to just go."

 

Ray nodded and Fraser led him to the car. Ray sat in the driver's seat and watched until Brooks pulled away.

 

-------

The way we fight

The way I'm left here silent

Oh these little earthquakes

Here we go again

Oh these little earthquakes

Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces

-------

 

Ray and Fraser arrived at the station a little too soon, for Fraser's taste. He'd tried twice, in vain, to get Ray to talk to him while he sped and dodged and pouted. For once, Fraser had to work hard at not letting Ray's sour mood rub off on him.

 

Even Frannie saw that it wasn't a good morning to speak to Ray so she looked past him and simply smiled at Fraser. Ray continued to his desk, but Fraser stopped.

 

"Good morning, Francesca," he said politely.

 

"Morning, Fraser," she returned with a little flirtation. "What's wrong with Ray?"

 

Fraser thought a moment. "I don't think I should say. He may not want to mention it."

 

Frannie looked a little confused, but took his word for it. She didn't care that much anyway. She was swamped with work and didn't have time for his troubles as well.

 

Fraser watched her sit back at her desk and start clicking away. He stepped over to Ray's desk, hat in hands. Ray was reading through the paperwork on his desk that he'd left from the night before. Fraser could see that he was tuning everything else out in order to place full concentration on the file. After a few minutes, it became apparent to Fraser that it wasn't actually deep concentration, it was a distraction. He had stared at one spot on the page for five minutes.

 

"Ray?" Fraser cut in, concerned. Ray didn't even flinch. "Ray... Ray... RAY... RAY!... RAY!!"

 

Ray finally looked up. "Uh, yeah, uh," he stuttered.

 

"Ray, weren't we going to handle that theft for Welsh?"

 

Ray finally returned to reality with a head shake. "Uh, art theft. That's right. Not enough murders in Chicago in the winter. Need to follow up on art theft." The sarcasm seeped through. He shrugged and headed for Welsh's office. Fraser followed.

 

Ray let himself into Welsh's office and Welsh did not look pleased. "Can you hold?" he said quickly, nodded into the phone, pushed a button, and hung up.

 

"Why am I following up on some stupid painting when there are so many cases on my desk," Ray demanded immediately.

 

"Good to see you, too, this morning, Detective." Welsh said impatiently and stood. "The art belongs to a very prominent member of the community. They would like it returned. It's valued at $700,000 and they fear we won't give their case the proper attention."

 

Ray shrugged. "Why should we? It's just a painting!"

 

Welsh growled. "What is your problem, Detective. I've given you an assignment, just do it!"

 

Ray saw there was no point in arguing. Without another word he went to Frannie. "Fran? Got a job for you."

 

She turned to him with a look of disgust. "Doesn't it look like I have enough? Everyone is working me to death so they can go home early for the weekend."

 

"I don't get weekends off, remember? C'mon. Just do this."

 

She looked into his face. What she saw worried her. There was a hollowed look about him. It reminded her of the how he looked every time he'd spent a few minutes with Stella, but it wasn't the same. She sighed and decided to do her part. "Ok, give it here." She held out her hand and he handed her a folder.

 

"This is about an art theft. Welsh says there are a few others. Can you try to find a connection?"

 

Frannie looked confused so he continued. "This one was stolen from the Caldwell private collection..."

 

"That's that really rich family, right?" she interrupted.

 

"Yeah," Ray continued. "Well, apparently the other people are getting PI's to find their paintings, but the Caldwells insist we do it."

 

"Where were the other paintings stolen?"

 

"That's the fun part. You have to find out. Not from around here. I just need you to find out everything you can for me. Try to look up art thefts from the last year or so. See if there's a connection. I'm going out to question the Caldwells. Call me."

 

She sighed. "Ok. I'll do my best."

 

------

 

Ray was speeding again and Fraser had enough of it. It wasn't his normal speeding, it was crazy. Fraser was more than afraid and he couldn't take it. "Ray, stop the car."

 

Ray glanced over. "No."

 

"Ray! I said stop the car."

 

He paused, then realized just how insane he was. He slowed down and stopped swerving through traffic. "Sorry Fraze." He sighed and Fraser eased his grip on the dashboard. "Can I ask you something, Fraze?"

 

Fraser smiled a little. This was a good sign. Ray was talking. He wasn't talking in a tone that indicated it would relate to the case. "Sure, Ray."

 

"Did you kiss Tori?"

 

Dead silence. Ray had his answer, but waited for Fraser's version of the answer. He knew it would be vague and politically correct so he simply sighed.

 

"I can't tell you that, Ray. It wouldn't be appropriate."

 

"She already told me you did. Cut the 'kiss and tell' crap."

 

Fraser nodded. "Understood."

 

"Did you crush her smokes?"

 

Fraser looked confused. "I wasn't aware she smoked."

 

"I mean, did you do anything else?"

 

"What did she tell you?" Fraser asked, a bit concerned that it had been more than he wanted Ray to know.

 

Ray knew he wouldn't get any more out of Fraser. He knew the only thing he would or could get was going to have to come from Tori herself. He sighed. They were nearing the Caldwell residence anyway so he continued in silence.

 

As he pulled into the drive of the palatial estate, Ray suddenly felt very small. He stopped at the gate where he was greeted by a camera and intercom. A computerized voice requested he show his identification into the camera, which he did. Apparently the action activated the gate which now opened slowly.

 

Ray drove up the long drive paved in cobblestone before turning to Fraser. "Y'know, there is such a thing as too much money, eh, Fraser?"

 

Fraser sat quiet a moment. He'd never really thought about it. He had the money he had, other people had the money they had. He realized then that it hadn't made much difference to him either way. "I don't know," he replied.

 

Ray shook his head. "Shake, Rattle, and Roll," he said simply, grabbing his notebook from between them on the seat and getting out of the car.

 

A butler was standing at the door, waiting to escort them inside before they got to the front step. Ray took a deep breath and walked up the steps next to Fraser. The butler asked them to wait in the front hall while he went to get "the lady of the house." Ray simply rolled his eyes and looked around.

 

The grand foyer was massive. It brought colours from the surrounding rooms into one sculpted display. There was an oak table with a fresh flower arrangement to guide attention to a grand staircase with velvet decoration and rich carpeting. To the right was the opening to an old style parlor with velvet curtains and tassels like Ray had never seen. To the left was a library with oak furnishings visible through the doorway and book cases that went to the ceiling.

 

He turned to Fraser. "It looks like an issue of Architectural Digest threw up in here."

 

Fraser was still trying to understand what Ray meant when a woman in a soft rayon dress stepped out from the hallway under the staircase. It was immediately apparent to Ray that she had been sculpted more than once by a plastic surgeon, but she had a kind face. She stood before them with a flourish and smiled. "I see promptness leaves little to be desired. I hope this isn't a reflection on how you'll handle this case." She turned on her heel. "This way please."

 

Ray noticed quickly that she didn't even bother to exchange names. Of course he would know her name. As far as she was concerned, his name was inconsequential.

 

Fraser and Ray followed the woman into the parlor. Everything was perfect and pristine. Gold picture frames, fabrics with gold threads. It looked as though it hadn't been touched except for dusting since the decorator had finished. Ray was looking around as she led them through the room into another room which was equally as pristine and perfect except for one thing. On one wall between two tall plants was nothing but a nail. The walls hadn't faded or dirtied around where the picture had been, Ray noted, but it was the only bare spot in the room.

 

"A group of officers has already been by to collect evidence," she said softly as Ray looked closely at the wall and surrounding areas.

 

He looked up. "Oh, I know. I was just..." He smiled and flipped open the notebook. "I have the report, but I needed to ask you if you remembered anything else since the cops were here before."

 

"No. I wasn't even here that evening. My husband and I were out of town. The help was off for the evening. Did you want to interview them again?"

 

Another plastered smile from Ray. "No. What I'm really wondering is if you know who might've wanted to steal it."

 

She furrowed her brow. "A lot of people, I suppose," she replied arrogantly. "It was a very expensive painting."

 

Fraser stepped forward. "Ma'am? I'm Constable Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I originally came to Chicago..."

 

"Not now, Fraze."

 

Fraser nodded once. "Understood. I understand the painting was a Waterhouse?"

 

She nodded and smiled. "Yes, it is a John Waterhouse."

 

"I'm curious as to why you had a Waterhouse?" he said bluntly.

 

"Pardon me?" she replied with true confusion.

 

"All the paintings I have seen in this house are Impressionist. Granted I haven't seen the entire house, but a Pre-Raphaelite artist would be out of place in a home with so many Impressionists, it would seem."

 

She nodded, now understanding. "My husband allows me free and complete control over decorating of our home. A little over a year ago, however, he asked that I allow him to buy a painting -- the Waterhouse. I reluctantly agreed. You see, he is an investor. Anywhere he wants to invest money, I agree. He has done such a wonderful job so far, who am I to argue?" She smiled at her comment. "Personally, I'm in love with the Impressionists. The Waterhouse ended up in this room because it was the only room in which it did not clash with the dcor."

 

Fraser nodded. Ray looked to him to see if he had completed that train of thought. Fraser hadn't. "Do you know why he wanted it?"

 

She thought for a moment. "No. He never said, specifically. He only said that it would be a good investment."

 

"May we speak with your husband?"

 

She shook her head. "He's away on business. He should return by Monday."

 

Ray's phone rang. He answered it and turned away from the conversation.

 

"Thank you, kindly," Fraser said.

 

"Is that everything?"

 

Fraser nodded, but when Ray heard that question, he asked Francesca to wait. He produced a card and handed it to her. "If you think of anything else, call me at this number."

 

She smiled. "I will."

 

Ray continued to talk on the phone as they walked out of the house.

 

Mrs. Caldwell was about to close the door behind them when Ray stopped and hung up the phone. He turned back to her. "Why didn't you hire a private investigator?" He saw that she was confused by the question. "Some other paintings have been stolen. We think there could be a connection. The others hired PI's. Why didn't you? I mean, it certainly isn't 'cause you don't have the money, huh?" he chuckled, then shrugged when he realized his tacky comment by the look she gave him.

 

"My husband said it would be better for us to allow the police to handle it."

 

"Hmm." Fraser made the noise, then saw that Ray and Mrs. Caldwell were looking at him. He shook his head. "It's nothing." He continued down the steps to the car.

 

---------

 

Ray couldn't help thinking, as he neared the station, how a sanctuary from downtown Chicago might not be as bad as all that. He looked around at the homeless people, the gangs, the criminals that were sometimes just too hard to catch. He'd gotten used to not noticing, but after returning from the pristine palace of the Caldwell's, he was a little less numb.

 

He was looking straight ahead, trying to tune out the pain and anger when Fraser stiffened.

 

"Stop the car, Ray."

 

"I wasn't speeding."

 

"Assault, Ray. Stop the car."

 

Ray screeched to a halt and was able to get partially off the street by pulling up to a hydrant. He'd only caught a glimpse of the scuffle, but he could see it was going to end in murder if they didn't interfere.

 

Before he was stopped, Fraser rolled out of the car and ran toward the trouble. Ray jumped out and heard Fraser holler. "I'll get the other man!"

 

Ray saw then that one of the men was running toward him, being chased, and that the victim of the assault was farther down the sidewalk. He ran into the first man and knocked him to the ground. Ray cuffed him quickly then jumped to a standing position. His look of satisfaction resembled that of a cowboy who had just tied a hog in 3 seconds. He turned to look the way Fraser had run and instead got a fist in his eye. He fell backward and hit the cement hard enough to blur his vision for an instant. He blinked and looked at the source of the fist.

 

"Tori?"

 

"You idiot! What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

 

He scrambled to his feet. "This guy was beating up that guy," he pointed down the street. "Looked to me like he was gonna kill him."

 

"He was and I was about to bust him for it until you screeched to a halt! Could you have possibly brought more attention to yourself?" She picked the guy up.

 

Ray tugged the other guy's arm. He was angry now and wanted her to pay. "He's mine."

 

"Yours? I don't think so! I've been trailing him for days! I've got all the evidence!"

 

Fraser came up behind them. The other man had gotten away, disappeared down an alley and Fraser had been unable to tell which way he went. He saw that it was Tori who had been running after the man who was now being frustrated by the tug of war going on. Fraser reached out and grabbed the man from both of them. Tori was reluctant to let go, but she did. Ray didn't.

 

"Perhaps the best course of action would be to straighten this out at the police station."

 

Tori nodded. "But he's my guy so he's going to my precinct."

 

Ray laughed. "It's my arrest."

 

They stared each other down until Fraser spoke up again. "Technically it is Ray's arrest so he should be the one to take him in." He looked apologetically to Brooks.

 

Tori folded her arms and took them both in. 'What a sight,' she thought. 'Two grown men playing cops while I work my ass off being one.' She glared before nodding an agreement. "I was off duty anyway. Left my bike 'round the corner. I'll be waiting for you at your precinct." She turned and ran down the street.

 

"Not if I have my way," Ray remarked softly under his breath when she left. He took the guy again and shoved him quickly into the car while Fraser climbed in front. Fraser grabbed the dashboard when Ray jolted the car as quickly as it would go.

 

Ray was honestly disappointed when he pulled into the parking lot of the station and saw Tori's motorcycle pulled into a spot. He looked around and saw that she was waiting at the entrance with a smile.

 

Inside she was the subject of many warm greetings. She nodded and accepted them graciously, but insisted on staying ahead of Ray, Fraser, and the man in handcuffs.

 

Ray and Brooks asked Fraser to take the man into the interrogation room and wait while they went to talk to Welsh. A quick walking race later, Brooks was first in Welsh's office without even a knock.

 

Welsh looked up and smiled slightly when he saw the familiar face. "Detective Brooks! What a surprise. What brings you here?"

 

Ray and Brooks spilled out their stories at the same time. The entire time, Welsh tried to calm them.

 

"He arrested my guy..."

 

"...so she decked me!..."

 

"...and do you know what he had the nerve..."

 

"...just pointed out that I made the arrest..."

 

"...of course, he's got that stupid personal doorman on his side..."

 

"...don't go attacking Fraze!"

 

"WHOA!" Welsh finally yelled. His face was red now and he was standing. Ray knew what that meant. Real trouble. He clamped his jaw shut.

 

Brooks saw the opportunity and seized it. "I've been trailing this guy for quite a while and I was about to get some really good information when this..."

 

Welsh's face began to turn a dark shade of purple. "Shut up."

 

Brooks glared at him. "I'm only telling you what your incompetent..."

 

He gave her a look that finally managed to close her mouth.

 

"Where's Fraser?"

 

"In room one with the guy I busted," Ray replied.

 

"You busted? It's my..." Brooks stopped short at the tight-lipped look from Welsh. "Look, you can't intimidate me, Welsh. You're not my boss anymore."

 

Welsh was almost on fire now. "Maybe not, but I am your superior! If you want this resolved and you want me to listen to your side of the story, you'll shut up now!"

 

Brooks felt angry and as though she had just been told she was grounded. She felt hot and knew that her face was turning red. She gave in and folded her arms, glaring at Welsh. She knew he was right. He was her superior and she didn't need to make waves with him just because she was upset with Ray.

 

"Ray, what's your side." Welsh intentionally gave him the first chance to speak to show Brooks who was boss.

 

She listened without interrupting as he told his story. It was basically the truth so she couldn't really argue, but when it was her turn, she made sure Welsh saw that it was her case.

 

"I've been trailing this guy and I was watching him carefully. He wasn't going to kill my guy. The guy was undercover. Knew what he was doing. Ray is making a lot of assumptions. I was about to bust him myself on much bigger charges than assault."

 

"Like?" Welsh asked.

 

"Murder, money laundering, conspiracy to commit fraud, for starters."

 

"He did all that?" Ray asked, astounded since the man seemed like an idiot.

 

"Well, yes. And we just got the name of his partner in that little operation." She turned back to Welsh. "So, you see, it's mine."

 

Welsh nodded. "Probably, but I'm going to let the Assistant States Attorney set you two straight. I'm staying out of this one." He picked up the phone.

 

Brooks was about to protest, but Welsh stopped her. "Go into the interrogation room and see how things are with Fraser. He's probably got the guy to confess by now."

 

On the contrary. When Ray opened the door and Brooks stepped inside, they saw Fraser simply watching the man. He had no idea what was going on so he didn't even know where to start the questions. He'd gotten the man's name, but that was about it.

 

Ray pulled up a chair and sat, but didn't say a word. Brooks did the same. They stared each other down for several minutes before Fraser spoke.

 

"Are we waiting for something?"

 

Ray turned to him. "Yeah, Welsh's calling the Assistant States Attorney."

 

"You mean Stella?" Fraser clarified.

 

Ray nodded. "Unfortunately."

 

Fraser wanted to smile. He wanted so much to let the feeling show. He was thoroughly amused.

 

Ray was tired. "Look. Just make it easy on yourself and tell us everything," he said to the man.

 

Brooks leaned back in her seat. "You know, you're being charged with conspiracy to commit fraud, murder, money laundering, assault. If you don't want to go to the chair, you better start talking."

 

"It doesn't matter if I did all those things anyway," he said. "Even if I confessed."

 

"Are you confessing?" she urged.

 

"Ok, yeah. I did it. I did it all."

 

Ray was astounded. "How'd you do that?" he asked Brooks.

 

She shrugged.

 

Just then, Stella walked through the door of the interrogation room. She saw the people before her.

 

Ray stood when he saw her. He stepped back and offered her his seat.

 

"That won't be necessary," she replied. "Welsh filled me in, but I want to make sure why I'm here." She turned to Ray. "You arrested him because you saw him beating up a man on the street." She then turned to Tori. "You were about to arrest him because you have evidence linking him to a bunch of crimes."

 

They nodded. She sighed and continued to hold her briefcase. "You'll have to talk to me like a child and explain exactly why Welsh called me, then. I don't understand why you," she glared at Ray, "don't just give her the arrest." She motioned to Tori.

 

Ray was about to answer when the man interrupted. "They didn't read me my rights. The way I see it, I'm off the hook altogether."

 

Stella lifted her head after hearing the man and looked back and forth from Ray to Brooks. They just looked at each other.

 

"Well?"

 

Brooks folded her arms. "Yeah, well? Did you recite them?"

 

Ray closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his head.

 

Brooks snapped her fingers. "Hey, hey. I'm not going to disappear if you close your eyes and wish."

 

Ray opened his eyes, the realization hitting him. "You hit me before I had the chance."

 

Brooks threw her hands in the air. "What? Don't blame me! You're the one who made the arrest!"

 

"Well, it was your arrest. You wanted it so bad, you shoulda done it!"

 

Stella interrupted. "Ray? Better take the cuffs off." She looked at Fraser who looked as though he was about ready to give up. He nodded and put out his hand as Ray dropped the keys. As Fraser was taking off the cuffs, Stella left without another word.

 

Brooks and Ray kept at it until Fraser let the man out. Then he closed the door and turned back to them.

 

"This has to stop," Fraser broke in firmly. "Ray, I want you to sit here." He walked around and pulled out a chair, then went to the other side of the table and pulled out the other chair. "Tori, you will sit here." He set his hat on the table. Ray and Brooks were quiet now, but they didn't move.

 

"I am not very good at arguments," Fraser continued. "I ask that you please cooperate." He stood firmly. Finally the two made their ways to the seats Fraser had assigned them.

 

Fraser waited a moment. They were starting yet another staring contest so he broke in again. "Look at me." They both looked up. "Now talk. No yelling, no fighting. Talk." They stared at him as if he'd spoken gibberish. "Talk!" he demanded. They still sat silent so he left the room.

 

Fraser took a seat just outside of the squad room doors. He was feeling very strange. He'd never had to do anything like that before. It made a part of him actually hurt.

 

In the interrogation room, however, things were different. Ray and Tori stared at each other a long time before a word was spoken, but at least it wasn't a contest.

 

"Why don't you start the conversation?" Tori said in a soft tone.

 

"Dunno know what to say."

 

They were quiet again. "I guess we should start at the beginning, then," she said. "I'm sorry I got so upset about the arrest. I guess we could have worked it out."

 

Ray cleared his throat. "I don't think that's the beginning."

 

She thought a moment. "Oh, well, I guess I got a little carried away in the boxing ring..."

 

Ray tilted his head. "That's not it, either."

 

"Oh." She waited a moment. "Are you ready to talk about that?"

 

Ray shrugged.

 

"Well, you know, Ray, you walked out that night."

 

Ray shrugged again. "I was confused. Can't blame me for that. What I really need to know is did it mean anything?"

 

"I tried to talk to you about it and you shut me out." She waited a moment, then emphasized. "You shut me out, Ray. There's nothing I'd like more than to move past that."

 

"Guess it doesn't matter anyway."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"We got carried away. I wouldn't've come up to your place if I'd been thinking."

 

She was stunned. "Why not?"

 

"I'm in love with Stella. Everybody knows that. We might not be married, but I still love 'er. Can't deny that."

 

Brooks stood with a scoff. "That's great, Ray. You just keep telling yourself that." She placed her hands on the desk and leaned over him. "Better keep reminding yourself that you don't have to care 'bout anyone else because you're still in lust with Stella." She paused and waited for his reaction to her planted word. He looked up. "Oops. Did I say lust? Of course what I meant was love." She walked out, closing the door to separate them. When she looked up she saw that Fraser had come down the hall.

 

He stood before her with a hopeful look on his face. She said nothing, but shot him a glance that stopped him from saying anything before she walked away. He knew it that instant that nothing had been resolved. He felt sudden disappointment mixed with hurt. Fraser ran his thumbnail along his eyebrow and walked into the room where he saw Ray still sitting at the table. He stood when he saw Fraser.

 

"I need to talk to Frannie 'bout the paintings," Ray said simply.

 

--------

It's better this way I say.

Having seen this place before

Where everything we say and do hurts us all even more...

...I'm pulled down by the undertow.

Never thought I could feel so low.

Oh and darkness, I feel like letting go.

If all of the strength and all of the courage

Come and lift me from this place

I know I can love you much better than this.

Full of Grace.

---------

 

When Ray tried to sleep that night, he found there were too many things on his mind to relax. Not only did he have the usual thoughts of a case running through his head, he also couldn't avoid thinking about Tori. He thought about what she'd said, how she'd looked, her smile. He didn't particularly like it when she was angry or when she was right, but the thought crossed his mind that it was worth it when she smiled or tossed her hair. It was worth it when she spoke directly to him and made him feel alive. Even when she was angry, he felt her anger. He'd tell his mind that she didn't matter. He'd convince himself of it. Then when he'd try to think of clues in the case, his mind would wander.

 

After an hour he gave up and went to his stereo. He played any song he could think of that fit his mood. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch.

 

When he woke the next morning, he found the problem with falling asleep on a couch that is too short. His knees were stiff, his back ached, and he couldn't move his neck.

 

"Great," he mumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen. He opened a packet of instant coffee and shook it into a mug. Then he followed the normal routine; hot tap water and candy to sweeten it. He grabbed the pen he'd left on the counter and stirred. He popped two aspirin in his mouth and swallowed the coffee in one drink.

 

When he met Fraser, he was trying to be positive, trying not to think of....He buried his nose in the work to avoid being left alone with his thoughts.

 

Frannie had only been able to give him a printout of the names of the paintings that had been stolen. The only connection he could see was that they were all by John Waterhouse and had all been a part of private collections. That made sense, Fraser had pointed out, because it is easier to steal from a private estate than from a well guarded museum or gallery.

 

In order to learn as much as they could, the visited museums and asked questions. One proved most interesting.

 

"Hello," said the woman at the entrance. "My name is Gwen. Can I help you?"

 

"Yeah," Ray replied. "We need to know about art."

 

She smiled. "That is a tall order for one day."

 

Ray showed his badge. "It's for a case I'm working on. Do you know much about John Waterhouse?"

 

She nodded. "Is there something in particular you need to know?" she asked as she started walking them around the gallery.

 

"Well, I was wondering if you could share the value of his paintings."

 

"It truly depends on which one," she replied.

 

Ray was glad he had finally found someone who was willing to share information. "What do you mean?"

 

Gwen sighed. "Let me show you." She led them into a room with many sections of walls. "You see, in here, each wall is dedicated to an up and coming artist. Many go on to become very desirable, but others should expect this to be the best show they have." She guided them to a display with many different types of paintings.

 

"These are done by Alexandra Pross. She is a wonderful artist, but each of her paintings are very different, as you can see. Abstract, realism, stills; there are many to choose from. Now look at the prices."

 

Ray and Fraser took a moment to look. They ranged from $1500 to $30,000.

 

"Now, it is unusual for an artist to have such a range, but you see, I have shown her work many times and I have found that these will only bring in a very small fee." She motioned to the still life painting that was marked $1500. "I find, however, that her abstract paintings will auction for much higher, therefore I can sell them for a much higher price."

 

"Then why doesn't she just paint abstracts?" Ray asked.

 

"I don't know," Gwen replied. "She always insists on having a still in each showing. They do sell, but often it is to someone who seems to know very little about art. They just want something inexpensive hoping it will appreciate and they can cash in. There are a lot of ...investors...who do this sort of thing."

 

"So what you're saying is some of Waterhouse's paintings are more desirable than others?" Ray asked, understanding.

 

"Which makes them worth more or less," she finished for him.

 

"Could you tell me how much a specific painting is?"

 

"I could, I suppose, but if you want a good reference, there are books that list auction prices of valuable art."

 

Ray sighed. "Guess it would be at the library?"

 

"I'm certain it would," she replied. "If you'll excuse me?"

 

"Certainly," Fraser replied.

 

They spent the entire day going from one gallery to the next. By the time they made it to the library, it was closed. Ray sighed.

 

"Wanna go to dinner?" he asked Fraser as they pulled up to the Consulate.

 

Fraser nodded.

 

They had a nice dinner, but it was very quiet. Fraser tried to make small conversation, but Ray answered in a word or two and went back to his own thoughts.

 

That night, Ray had trouble sleeping again. He was confused by the case, but he was trying not to think about it. He'd worked for over a week and he was taking the next day off. 'As long as Huey and Dewey are handling real cases and I'm on a hunt for a silly painting, it can wait until Monday,' he thought.

 

Then, again, his thoughts drifted.

 

---------

 

Tori was startled when the phone rang. She glanced over at the clock and saw that it was 3 am. She'd been thinking about Ray and had only fallen asleep 2 hours before. She felt around and grabbed the phone.

 

"H'lo," she croaked.

 

"Tori?"

 

She sat up. It was nearly the last voice she expected to hear in the middle of the night. "Ray?"

 

"I need to talk to you."

 

'It's about time,' she thought. "Ok. Can it wait until morning?"

 

There was a silence. "Breakfast at The Pancake Shack?"

 

She nodded, then realized he couldn't hear the nod. "Ok. Make it 9."

 

She heard a click and the buzz. He'd hung up without a good-bye. She flopped back into the bed and her mind started racing. Maybe he didn't want to talk about their relationship. Maybe he didn't want to talk about her kiss with Fraser. Maybe he was going put one more hook into her, making it that much more difficult for her to say good-bye.

 

------

 

Tori was sipping a cup of hot, sugared down coffee when Ray walked in. He looked around and saw her just as she looked up. He took a step backward, but when he realized she had seen him, he stepped forward.

 

Neither of them said a word until the waitress came to poor Ray's coffee.

 

"I hope I didn't mess up your case too much," Ray said, feebly.

 

"Naw. I'll get him again. Guy's an idiot. I'm more interested in his partner anyway."

 

"Don't you think they'll get away if you don't catch them soon?"

 

"Oh please. They've been caught more than once on tape and yet they still set up meetings in places without checking for bugs. They've been narced three times since I took the case and they never catch on. They'll probably move to the next city soon, but it wouldn't be beneficial for them to go yet. I've set up a huge trap for them Tuesday."

 

Ray nodded. "Good. Guess I'll try to stay out of your way then."

 

There was silence a moment. "You don't have to, Ray. You don't have to stay out of my way. You just gotta try not to piss me off so much."

 

Ray shrugged. "Not like you're a saint to get along with."

 

She smiled. "True enough." She waited. "Why'd you call me?"

 

Ray couldn't speak for several minutes. Tori could do nothing except wait. Finally he spilled it out. "I realized in the middle of the night last night that it doesn't really matter what you did with Fraser. Doesn't really make a difference. Fraser and I have just been friends for, well, not that long, but I feel like it's been a long time.

 

"I dunno about Stella, though. I know I really love her, even though we are apart and I don't think you had any right to tell me I don't."

 

"Hey, look. I wanted to reach over and rip your eyes out, you're lucky I didn't."

 

"C'mon, don't," he said pleadingly.

 

Brooks shrugged.

 

Ray waited before speaking again. "I guess I don't see why if nothing happened between you and Fraser, you guys won't tell me."

 

"Ray."

 

"I told you, we're good friends. I feel ... betrayed."

 

"Ok, Ray, back off."

 

"I just want to know so it doesn't haunt me at night."

 

"You know, Ray," her voice was harsh. "I just can't seem to figure why you're so damned interested in my relationship with Fraser. There is nothing romantic or anything like that involved, ok? Can you just drop it?"

 

"But I need to know how far things went. I mean, did you guys do more than you and I have? Of course you have...you kissed, but how far did it..."

 

"Look, Ray, how would you feel if I started in about Stella. I need details of your relationship with her so I can sleep better."

 

Ray tried to chuckled to show he wasn't intimidated, but he failed. "That's pretty low."

 

"Don't you think it's low the way you treat me? The way you're probably treating Fraser?"

 

Ray stood. "Look, I'm not taking this, ok? I don't need it."

 

Brooks stood also and dropped a $10 bill on the table without thinking. "Get over it, Ray. Get over my kiss with Fraser and get over Stella. She's just not worth it." She left the restaurant and Ray followed.

 

"Hey, don't you dare tell me to get over Stella!"

 

"God, Ray, you are so short sighted! You don't see anything except her, do you?" She stood next to her bike.

 

Ray felt warm, angry. He stood closer to tower over her. "I do care about other things! I felt that for you, y'know. I never would've tried to kiss you if I didn't care 'bout you. Don't you see that?"

 

"What?!" She still sounded angry, but she was more confused.

 

"I have feelings for you!" He sounded harsh.

 

They were quiet for a moment. "Oh," was all Tori could say. Finally she thought of what she really wanted to know. "Ray?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Can I ask you a question?"

 

He relaxed. "Sure."

 

It took her a moment to ask. "What's it feel like to be in love?"

 

Ray cringed at the not only personal, but also sappy question. "I dunno know what you mean."

 

"Deep down I always thought there'd be sparks or fireworks or something. Deep down I'm a hopeless romantic. I just don't know what it really feels like."

 

Ray was surprised. She was a rookie? "You mean you've never been in love?"

 

She paused. "Well, I dunno. Not really. I mean, I've cared about people and I've been with men, but I've never known a love that would make me reject other people."

 

Ray thought for a moment. "I don't think I can tell you. You just kinda know when it happens."

 

She shuffled her feet around.

 

Ray smiled a little. "Look. You have ta work today?"

 

"Uh, no, actually."

 

"Neither do I. Mind going to a few art galleries?"

 

"Art galleries?" Now she was thoroughly confused by the quick turn of conversation.

 

"Yeah, it's a case I'm working on. Thought maybe we could go and leave Fraser at the Consulate today."

 

"Uh." She thought for a moment. "Ok."

 

-------------

And every time I'm close to you,

There's too much I can't say,

And you just walk away.

And I forgot to tell you

I love you.

And the night's too long

And cold here without you.

I grieve in my condition,

For I cannot find the words to say

I need you so.

------------

 

Ray didn't learn a whole lot about art. They visited museums he'd been to the day before with Fraser, but he didn't tell Tori that. Later in the day, Ray dropped her off at the restaurant to pick up her bike.

 

As she pulled a pair of lined leather gloves from her pocket, he smiled.

 

"What?" she asked.

 

"Don't you think it gets kinda cold for a bike in winter?"

 

She shrugged. "Well, with any luck, my car will be running soon and I'll be able to drive it through the winter." She paused. "Do you wanna see it?"

 

"What? Your car?"

 

"Yeah. Your GTO is nice, but nothing compares to my beautiful machine."

 

Ray scoffed. "What do you have? A nice Beamer?"

 

"BMW? Please! It's a 1959 Cadillac."

 

"You mean an Elvis car?"

 

"Hey, it's not painted bubblegum, ok? It's black." She smiled, obviously both proud of the car and anxious to share it with someone.

 

Ray was intrigued. "Ok."

 

"Follow me," she said and slipped on her helmet.

 

Ray chuckled as he drove because Tori kept dodging in and out of traffic trying to stay a few cars ahead. She only ever managed one or two cars ahead, even in her bike, as he dodged right behind her.

 

They were almost out of the city when she pulled into a junk yard and hopped off of her bike. Ray pulled in and rolled down his window.

 

"Get out, sport. This is as far as Mikey will let me drive. We have to walk from here," she smiled a big toothy grin, excited to share her car with someone.

 

"Hey, just how much fixing up does this car need?"

 

She laughed. "C'mon."

 

Ray climbed out. "Should I worry about leaving my car here?"

 

She shook her head and pointed across the yard. "See over there? They'll keep an eye out for you."

 

Ray shrugged and followed her as she started to weave through the cars. It was a salvage yard full of wrecked and rusted machines of every car type he could imagine.

 

"Mikey's a good friend of mine. He runs this yard and has a few garages out along the back of the lot." She pointed as they walked, but all he saw was a whole lot of cars. "He's been helping me rebuild my car for the past 2 years." Ray kept pace with her through the lot until they came upon the covered garages.

 

"Mikey!" she hollered and a small, somewhat muscular man appeared.

 

"Hey, Tori. Come 'ere." He waved them in and Ray looked around. The man led them two cars down where he saw the Cadillac.

 

He watched as Tori ran her hand along the door. The top was down and the interior was as fresh as the exterior. He let out a quiet sound. "Wow."

 

Tori smiled. "My dream car. Gorgeous, huh?"

 

"I finally got that gear shaft," Mike said and pointed to a dingy table.

 

She smiled. "I was starting to think you'd never find the right one." She went to the table and looked around. Ray watched her pick up a black object with her right hand and swing it over. She barely took a step and dropped it. He started to step toward her when she bent down. She came up with the object in left instead and he watched her roll her right shoulder as if stretching the muscles.

 

She examined the part and brought it to Mike. "Looks good, Mikey. Thanks. Any word on the engine?"

 

Mike shook his head. "Nope. You know, I could modify it to fit a small truck engine."

 

She shook her head this time. "Nope. I'll substitute a lot of things, but the engine's the heart of the car."

 

Ray looked under the hood. He could see that most parts were either originals or good substitutes. This Mike was very skilled at his work.

 

"Well, Mikey, this is Ray. I just wanted to show 'im the car. He's got a GTO."

 

"What year?" Mikey asked with interest."

 

"1967," Ray replied nonchalantly.

 

The three of them chatted briefly about cars, then Tori led the way back out of the maze of wrecked cars.

 

It was only mid afternoon when they separated, but the air was already starting to get cold.

 

--------

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine.

You taste so bitter and so sweet.

Oh I could drink a case of you, darling

And I would still be on my feet.

I would still be on my feet.

--------

 

Ray opened the door to his apartment and saw a message on his machine. He hit the button, but before it played the message, his mind wandered. He was thinking about Tori. He was wishing he wasn't at the same time he couldn't get her out of his head. He picked up his keys again and headed back to his car.

 

He needed to talk to someone. He thought of the possibilities, but there was really only one. Frannie would dispense advice from a Harlequin romance novel, Welsh would tell him to "buck up"...no, there was only one true friend, despite the fact that he was the same one who represented the wedge between Brooks and himself. He turned on the road that ran past the Consulate. As he approached, her nearly choked. He parked alongside the curb, turned off the motor, and stared in disbelief at the black bullet bike leaning ten feet in front of him.

 

'That can't be her. I'm seeing things,' he thought at first and closed his eyes. He rested his head on the steering wheel while taking a deep breath. When he looked up, he saw that it was still there. 'Carrying on with him the whole time I'm pining away like a fool?' He started his engine, then looked at the motorcycle again. He slammed a fist against the steering wheel, turned off the engine, and climbed out from his car. 'She won't get away with this,' he growled to himself as he slammed the door to his GTO.

 

Turnbull looked up, the usual confusion on his face, as Ray breezed quickly past his desk.

 

Ray kicked open the door to Fraser's office, then felt immediately foolish at his drama. Fraser was leaning against the window as Brooks leaned back in the seat behind his desk. Her eyes were wide and she relaxed when she saw that it was just Ray. She stood and put on her coat.

 

"Guess that's my cue," she said. "Time for the boys to talk."

 

Ray pointed an accusatory finger at her, still angry at himself, but turning his anger on her. "I didn't come here to talk. Well, I did, but I saw your bike out front." He realized how lame he sounded and moved his hands to his hips.

 

"So?" She seemed confused, then it dawned on her what Ray must have thought. "Ah. I see. You thought Fraser and I were in here gettin' it on, huh?" She put her gloves on as she walked around the desk. She raised her voice. "How many ..." she paused and took a breath to calm herself. "You have to believe me when I tell you that Fraser and I are friends, just friends. I don't feel I can confide in many people around here so I came to talk to him. It isn't going to work if you can't just believe me."

 

Ray was a little baffled by her calmness. He'd half expected a punch when she came toward him.

 

She put on her helmet and walked out of the room.

 

Ray turned to Fraser. Fraser raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

 

"What'd you say to her?"

 

Fraser looked away. "I couldn't say."

 

"You must've done something. She didn't even yell."

 

"It wouldn't be right for me to discuss our conversation, but you could use some of the advice I gave her."

 

"What's that?"

 

"I simply advised that she calm down. You have a knack of getting under her skin, just like she gets under yours. I told her not to let it get to her or every conversation will end up in a brawl."

 

Ray hated the fact that he knew Fraser was right. "But that's the way we function, Fraze."

 

Fraser rolled his eyes. "True," he said, "but can't you see that it's dysfunctional?"

 

Ray shrugged. "Dunno." He shifted. "She asked me a really weird question today." He waited for Fraser to inquire, but his good manners didn't permit his prying. "She asked me about love. Was kinda a dumb conversation, but it got me thinkin'."

 

Fraser tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

 

"Did she tell you how she felt 'bout me?"

 

Fraser ran his thumbnail across his brow.

 

"I know, I know, you can't tell me," Ray sighed in frustration.

 

"I'd like to ask one question to you, Ray."

 

Ray straightened. "Huh?"

 

"Do you speak so much of Stella because you are in love with her or because you think you still ought to?"

 

The words drifted into Ray's head, but he couldn't make sense of them. He blurted out an answer that sounded rehearsed and was the same thing Fraser had heard so many times he thought he's ears would start to bleed the next time.

 

"I love her. She loves me. We just couldn't work things out, that's all."

 

--------

 

Ray wasn't sure how he was feeling the next morning when he got up early to go boxing. There was definite anticipation, but whether it was at seeing her or getting the workout was unclear in his mind. He moved about as if he were a machine. He didn't think much about his actions, he just went on in auto-pilot.

 

Ray got Brooks with a left hook before she got out her first punch. He noted that he must be improving as he hadn't been able to get in the first punch before. She psyched him by lifting her right and punching with her left. It was then that he realized she was using her left, even though she'd been a right handed boxer.

 

Fraser noticed it too. He also noted that when she did use her right, it was weak and she reacted with a scowl on her face what he could see of her face, anyway.

 

After only a few minutes of sparring, Ray gave her a series of jabs which she responded to by tapping him with her left, then swinging a forceful right. As soon as she hit him, she grabbed the arm and fell to the mat, spitting out the mouth guard at the same time.

 

Fraser jumped into the ring and took off her head protection. Ray spit out his mouth guard and fell to his knees beside her.

 

"What happened?"

 

"Nothing, I'm fine," she replied, but the pain was in her voice.

 

Fraser made her sit up, then he started examining the arm.

 

Ray held out his gloves. "C'mon, get these off me."

 

Fraser looked at him, but kept feeling around. Jim came out from the back and saw them in the ring. "What happened?" he hollered as he ran into the ring.

 

"I'm fine, guys, get away," she pulled her arm away from Fraser.

 

Ray held his hands out to Jim. "Take these off, wouldja?" Ray remembered her dropping the car part the day before and it all came together. He'd observed her using her left far more than usual, but didn't actually make a note until now.

 

Jim hurried to untie a glove. Ray shook it off, untied the other, then took off his skull guard.

 

Tori started to feel claustrophobic and jumped up. "I'm fine, guys. I just hurt my arm a little the other day. I thought it was fine."

 

"Maybe you should get it looked at," Jim suggested.

 

"It's ok, really."

 

Ray untied her gloves for her.

 

"I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to ruin today's fight."

 

"It's ok. Look, I'll drive you to the emergency room."

 

"Oh, please. Quit making such a fuss. I just can't swing a good punch, that's all."

 

"How'd it happen?" Ray pushed.

 

"Nothing. Really."

 

Ray gave her a look. "Something was wrong yesterday, too. What happened?" he insisted.

 

"It was stupid." She looked around and saw they weren't going to let her leave it at that. "I ran into Squigg again."

 

"Oh dear," Fraser let slip.

 

"It was no big deal." She got a nefarious grin. "Except I've got him more pissed." She looked up again and saw that Ray was waiting anxiously. "He grabbed my arm and I flipped him over. Knocked him out in front of his new colleague. I guess I pulled something in my arm."

 

"Or he did," Ray said bitterly.

 

"Anyway, I'll be fine in a couple days." She headed for the locker room. "Sorry about the match, Ray."

 

"I said it's ok," he said, catching up to her. "Look, how 'bout I take you to dinner tonight? To make up for the match?"

 

"That's pretty strange, Ray."

 

"C'mon, just go with me on this one."

 

Tori looked at him skeptically. "Ok, sure."

 

------

 

The next step in the case took Fraser and Ray to the library. Ray had a sour look to fit his mood. They both had art books in front of them in a private study room. They had been to several art galleries, but were only able to get surface information. All of the paintings had been by John Waterhouse so the gallery owners told them of the style, sizes, and techniques of each painting, but nothing they found helpful. That is what brought them to the library.

 

"Thought I picked a job where I wouldn't need to come to the library," Ray said softly.

 

"You know, Ray, your aversion to a library is quite astounding."

 

Ray looked up from the book he was thumbing through. "Huh?"

 

"As you know, I grew up with my grandparents in Tuktoyuktuk. They ran a library. Well, it was more of a book mobile..."

 

"What's the point, Fraze?" Ray urged impatiently.

 

"The point is, daily reading is very important if one wants to expand the mind. When you must survive without daily technology all you have is your mind."

 

"I read. I read the newspaper every...week. I dunno. It's not the reading, it's the library. Makes me think of homework." He shuddered. "Hated school."

 

Fraser nodded and went back to his art book. "Hmm."

 

Ray stood and tried to look at the book. "What hmm?"

 

"It isn't the book. I just remembered what the woman at the gallery said."

 

"What?"

 

"Well, it wasn't exactly what she said. Do you remember her showing us the art by Pross?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"The 'up and coming' new artist Alexandra Pross. She showed us several of her..."

 

Ray shrugged. "Oh yeah...sure."

 

"The painting she showed us was exactly 27 1/2 inches by 18 1/4 inches."

 

"So?"

 

"It's an odd size for a painting. It says here that those are the exact measurements of the painting 'Juliet'."

 

"Waterhouse?"

 

"Yes. It also happens to be one of the stolen paintings"

 

"Coincidence?"

 

Fraser nodded, but licked his lower lip in thought. "Perhaps. I still think we should look into it."

 

Ray got on his phone and called the gallery. He managed to get the name of the artist. After that, he called Fran and got the address for the artist's studio.

 

------

 

The restaurant was nice, but not too fancy Fraser noted as he and Ray waited for Tori to arrive. When she did, Ray was pleased to see that she was dressed up. He smiled and the two of them stood for her.

 

"Good evening, Ben, Ray." She set a napkin over her lap. "So how was your day?"

 

"Worky, worky," Ray replied in his sarcastic tone.

 

She nodded her agreement. "Guess what I heard this today. Davis Squigg was suspended this morning."

 

"For what?" Ray asked incredulous.

 

"He went off the deep end. His new partner kept complaining and they finally did a mental evaluation and Squigg failed." She laughed and took a sip of her water. "I hope they put the bastard in a rubber room until he croaks."

 

"Is he being institutionalized?" Fraser asked.

 

"Naw. Rumor is they've got him on a drug to calm him down. It's still pretty damn funny, though, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah. I guess. Think he'll come after you?" Ray leaned in.

 

"For what?"

 

"Assault, or something. He never really needs an excuse when it comes to you."

 

"True, but he's got nothing to back him. He can kiss my pearly white butt." She laughed again.

 

Ray looked at Fraser, who looked back at him.

 

"Oh, c'mon guys, stop looking so serious. This is good news!"

 

Ray smiled finally. "I'm just a little worried."

 

Brooks shook her head and gave up. She noticed Fraser was looking past her shoulder. "So, Ben, how's Meg?"

 

He looked back at her. "Inspector Thatcher remains well. Turnbull remains..." Fraser tipped his head side to side while rolling his eyes.

 

Brooks nodded.

 

After dinner, the three walked to the street and met up with Dief. Fraser opened his car door and let Dief in.

 

"Do you need a ride home?" Ray recalled that she didn't ride her bike when she was dressed up.

 

She looked at him a moment, then nodded. "I took a cab here, but I'd like to save the money."

 

Fraser climbed in back and let Brooks have the front seat. They dropped Fraser at the Consulate first. There was silence following until Ray pulled up in front of her apartment. Their eyes met, then Ray sighed. "I don't think I'll walk you up tonight."

 

She looked at him a moment. She hadn't really expected him to, but the fact he said it made her wonder. "What are you afraid of, Ray?" she asked in frustration.

 

Ray looked at the steering wheel. "Stella..."

 

She cut him off quickly. "What are you afraid of with me?" He looked into her eyes, but didn't answer. "I'm not Stella," she added. "I'm not any woman who has ever hurt you before. What are you afraid of?"

 

Ray felt cornered so he scoffed. Tori's eyes penetrated him and his boyish smile faded away. "I don't know," he finally replied.

 

She got out of the car. "I didn't think you did."

 

He watched her go inside. Suddenly he felt alone and stupid. He slammed the steering wheel then he punched the roof and drove away.

 

-----------

Dark and dangerous like a secret that gets whispered in a hush.

When I wake the things I dreamt about you last night make me blush.

When you kiss me like a lover, then you sting me like a viper,

I go follow to the river; play your memory like the piper.

And I feel it like a sickness; how this love is killing me,

But I'd walk into the fingers of your fire willingly.

-----------

 

Ray was awake most of the night. Bits and pieces of conversations he'd had with Tori, Stella, many others rattled around in his brain. It was a rough night, but when he left for work the next morning, he knew what he had to do. He felt bitter and, as Fraser later noted, it as a slightly violent day for Ray.

 

When Ray entered the squad room, followed by Fraser and Dief, he was confronted almost immediately by Francesca.

 

"Hi Fraser," she said seductively as usual. "Ray, Welsh want to talk to you."

 

Ray nodded and sat at his desk.

 

"Uh, he'd like to talk to you soon," she said impatiently.

 

Ray sighed and stood again. "Thanks, Fran."

 

She looked a little surprised that he hadn't returned her request with sarcasm and watched him go into Welsh's office.

 

When Ray entered, he was a little surprised to see Stella sitting across from Welsh. "Uh, am I interrupting?" Welsh shook his head. "You wanted to see me?"

 

"Yeah. I got the pressure on here. The Caldwell's are wondering exactly how long it'll be before you get their painting back."

 

Ray shrugged. "I been busy."

 

"Busy with the case, I hope."

 

Ray tipped his head and shrugged again. "Lieutenant, remind me again why I'm searching down a painting when there are murderers running around free as birds?"

 

Welsh sighed. "I want that painting and a full report right away, Vecchio. I won't ask again."

 

"Fine," he replied coldly and turned to Stella. "Hi, Stella."

 

She made a face. "Hello, Ray."

 

"Hey, Stella, can I talk to you?"

 

She put her fist on her waist. "I don't have time for you right now, Ray. I have to be in court in..." she looked at her watch.

 

"It will only take a minute." He seemed determined. She stared at him, as did Welsh and Fraser. "Alone?" he said at last.

 

"Fine," Stella said, then started to follow him toward the currently quiet lunchroom. "Look, Ray, I don't really have time to deal with you. I don't know why you're bringing this up again, but you know we have to remain professional. We're not married anymore and we never will be again so..."

 

"Ok, stop talking," Ray said in a tone that reflected his annoyance with her at that moment. "Look, here's the deal of the thing, ok? I've been running around like a lovesick teenager because I still love you..."

 

"Ray," she interrupted.

 

"No. I'm not done, ok? I just need to tell you something. Maybe I just thought I was still supposed to love you. I don't even know anymore. The thing is, I don't have room for you anymore." He noticed she looked confused and put his hand over his heart. "I don't have enough room. I will always love you, you know that. I have to try something else. I have to stop thinking of you as this perfect woman."

 

She looked dumbfounded. "What's her name?" she said sourly.

 

Ray shook his head. "First of all, there doesn't have to be a 'her' for me to be sick of this situation, ok? Second, what are you so angry about?"

 

She thought about it a moment. "I'm sorry," she said simply.

 

"So I'm going to try not to love you and I'm going to try not to bother you."

 

She pondered a moment. "Maybe I can try not to be around so much."

 

"Thanks, Stella."

 

She nodded, "I guess I'll discuss things through Welsh when I can."

 

As Ray headed back toward his desk, he saw Fraser waiting patiently. "Ok, Fraser. Let's go talk to that artist."

 

As Fraser and Ray pulled up in front of the tall building, Ray re-checked the address he'd gotten from Francesca. It was a very nice business building surrounded only by other business buildings. "Weird. There can't be an artist studio in there."

 

Ray flipped open his small phone and called Frannie. "Fran. You gave me an address for a ..." he looked at Fraser who repeated the name again. "Alexandra Pross. Check it again, wouldja?"

 

"Ok," Fran said with a sigh. He could hear clicking of keys through the phone as she spoke. "What'd you lose it already? I could get a lot more done around here if you'd...here it is." She read him what was on her screen.

 

"It's a big office building," he informed her.

 

"I dunno, Ray. That's where the payments for her paintings go. That's all I've got on her."

 

"Thanks," he said as he hung up. He furrowed his brow in confusion, then shrugged.

 

"Is something wrong?" Fraser asked.

 

"Nah. Just queer. Let's go in."

 

--------

 

Tori's eye was caught by the black GTO parked outside of the office building when she pulled up. She looked over and saw Ray and Fraser walking into the building. She hurried off her bike and ran inside.

 

"Hold the elevator," Ray heard as the doors started to close.

 

Fraser pushed in the 'DOOR OPEN' button and Ray watched the doors slide open to reveal Tori walking their way, helmet under her arm.

 

"Uh, hi What are you doing here?" she said, unsure.

 

"Lead on that art theft."

 

"Oh? The buyer work here?"

 

"Nope. The artist has her payments sent here and has it registered as her studio."

 

"Here? That can't be right." She looked at the piece of paper he held, proving this was the address. "Talked to whoever works in that suite yet?"

 

Ray raised an eyebrow. "That's where we're headed." He paused. "And you?"

 

"I got a message at work today. Apparently a guy I used to know is working here. Asked me up for lunch."

 

Ray nodded. He watched the numbers tick away, then noticed it didn't stop on their floor. "What the...?" he pushed in the rest of the buttons, but it continued it's ascent. All at once, the elevator stopped and they heard a noise from the elevator shaft. Ray and Fraser pried the doors open, but were faced only with wall. It had stopped directly between floors. "Hmm," Ray let out in a breath. The three started looking around the small space.

 

"Lift me," Brooks demanded as she stood under the access panel. Ray and Fraser boosted her through. "Shit," she said with a nervous laugh and then climbed through. She popped her head back down. "Either of you know how to deactivate a bomb?"

 

Fraser gave Ray a boost, then Tori and Ray reached through to pull Fraser up. Fraser looked at it for a long time while Ray called the bomb squad. They saw that there were only five minutes left on the timer. Fraser identified each component for Ray, who Ray described what he saw, then related what he was being told.

 

"Good news. It's a small bomb. It won't blow up the whole building, just us and a few feet around the elevators," he said softly.

 

Tori smiled nervously. "So what do we do?"

 

"Got something sharp? He says we need 2 sharp things. Scissors are best."

 

Fraser pulled out a multi purpose knife. "Well, I've got scissors and a knife, but..." he held it up to show they couldn't be used simultaneously.

 

Tori reached around in her pockets and finally produced a Swiss Army Knife. She started pulling things out until she found scissors. "Thank goodness for gifts from friends, huh?"

 

They all nodded.

 

"Ok," Ray continued. "The one that hooks into the clock and the one that hooks into that black box need to be cut at the same time, then you cut the other two at the same time."

 

Fraser and Brooks nodded, counted together, then clipped. The clock turned off, but they could hear ticking.

 

"We're supposed to hear that ticking," Ray said. "Now we clip the other two."

 

They set up for the next cut, counted together, and clipped again. The ticking stopped and Tori took a gasping breath. "I forgot to breath," she said uneasily.

 

They stood and looked up the shaft. There were stairs along the sides for maintenance access. Fraser and Ray went first and pulled at the doors of the next floor, but they wouldn't budge. They started looking around and messing with everything around in hopes of finding a release. Something they pressed triggered the door and it opened slowly. The three climbed out onto the landing.

 

"Ok, whoever it was went out above us, correct?" Tori asked and Ray agreed. "In case he's not out of the building, we'd better check things out. Twelve stories, three of us, ok. So Ray takes 1-4, Fraser gets 5-8, and I'll take 9-12."

 

They nodded and hurried to the stairs.

 

Ray started on the first floor and made his way up to 4. Fraser started on 8 and came down, meeting Ray on 5.

 

"Up, then?" Ray asked.

 

"Yes, we'll meet up with Detective Brooks on the twelfth floor."

 

They ran up the stairs and as they got to the twelfth floor, they saw the door marked 'roof access' closing. They ran to the door and as they hurried up the stairs, they saw the door above them closing.

 

Fraser made it to the door first and swung it open. Ray followed him out and they saw a man looking over the edge. They looked around and didn't see Brooks. Ray pulled his gun. "Freeze!" he hollered.

 

The man saw them and went running. Fraser noticed fingers on the edge of the roof near where the man had been. He ran over to see Tori hanging there. She looked up, her feet were flailing. Ray rushed up and saw her also.

 

"I've got her," Fraser said, grabbing her arm. "Go get the..."

 

"No!" Ray yelled and grabbed her other arm. "You go."

 

"I am capable of..."

 

"Me too..."

 

Brooks looked more panicked. "Ok, guys, I'm flattered. Now HELP ME!"

 

The police sirens sounded below as several cars and a few from the bomb squad division pulled up to the side of the building. The very small people below scurried to separate.

 

Fraser tried to pull, but the angle made it impossible. "You're going to have to grab my arm, then Ray's."

 

She swallowed. "I can't."

 

"Look in my eyes, Tori," Fraser said. "You must stop swinging your legs and grab on."

 

She looked down and then squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't, I'll fall."

 

"We won't let you," Ray added. "One hand at a time, ok?"

 

She swallowed again and grabbed Fraser's arm. She looked at the other hand. "I...I can't. It's the only thing holding on anymore."

 

Ray leaned over slightly and grabbed her arm tighter. "You have to trust us. You won't fall."

 

She took a deep breath and grabbed.

 

Ray and Fraser started walking backwards Just as she came over the edge, Ray lost his balance and the chain reaction landed them all on the ground. Fraser landed a few feet from Ray and Tori who landed right next to each other. Their eyes met and a conversation was practically spoken. Fraser came over and started to help Tori up, ending their look. She brushed herself off and Ray jumped up, brushing himself off also.

 

Fraser turned his hat in his hands. "My father once told a story about a similar situation. He almost fell off of a cliff and he told me it leaves you with an appreciation for life." No one said anything so he continued. "Often people tend to feel the need to live life to the fullest after a near death experience."

 

Brooks stopped. "It wasn't a big deal, Fraser. I'm fine."

 

They walked together back to the door leading them to the stairs and headed down in silence.

 

--------

So there I stood, square on my side of the great divide.

A message came from across the void and for the first time in my life

I'm awake, I'm alive.

I thought I was immune to this till I felt the static charges in the air.

I touch you, you're a live wire, you're the raw fire burning my heart.

It took me by surprise, that's no lie

you know you are a sharp, shock to my system

My soul my skin you plug me in and all of my pain is gone

Just like it never was.

And for the first time in my life I know what I feel.

Now every time we touch I'm caught off my guard.

That's no lie.

Shock to my system

--------

 

Tori unlaced her boots with a sigh. Her head was a blur. Everyone had told her what Fraser had been quick to note -- near death experience = carpe diem. She was feeling ready to be away from people. She was still in shock about the whole thing. She didn't know about this "living life to the fullest" advice, but she did know that she had the shit scared out of her. She took an aspirin and laid on the couch. She closed her eyes and saw the sidewalk 120 feet below. She opened her eyes and knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. She sat up with a grumble.

 

Just then, there was a knock on the door. She sauntered to it and opened it. She saw Ray and melted.

 

"I can't believe..." he started.

 

"I know."

 

He came at her and pressed his lips and body against hers, backing her to the wall. Still locked in the deepening kiss, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her feet from the floor, then he carried her into the bedroom.

 

-----------

 

It was dawn when the alarm clock buzzed, waking Ray and Tori at the same time. They were still in each other's arms. Tori smiled and Ray ran his finger over the tattoo of the fairy stabbing the dragon. "What's this?" he asked softly as he gently kissed it.

 

She watched him. "What does it look like?"

 

"No, I mean, does it mean anything?"

 

She smiled a little. "Oh. Yes. It does. You see, the dragon represents the bad things in this world, like doubt," she paused. "And fear and hate and the negative words people use. It's blue because the police academy was my biggest hurdle in overcoming those things." She sighed. "It's on the upper arm to show strength. The fairy just means that a small feminine thing like me can be tough enough."

 

Ray smiled at her. "Really?" He was a little doubtful of such a story.

 

"Yes," she replied.

 

He pushed back the blankets to reveal the sun around her navel. He raised his eyebrows, then kissed it as she explained.

 

"Ah, that was my first. I wanted to remind myself and others that no matter what is on the outside, the center of my being is good. I am a source of light."

 

Ray raised just one eyebrow at the end. "Isn't that a little, I dunno, silly?"

 

"Probably," she laughed softly. "It started with the sun and somehow got out of hand, I guess. I felt like I needed these constant reminders."

 

Ray nodded and went to the butterflies on her leg. He waited.

 

"I am free like a butterfly. They carry me from place to place. I had that one done right before I met you when I left the last place."

 

He kissed it gently as he had the others, then kissed her lips. "So how are the purple streak and the belly ring symbols?"

 

She smiled. "Uh, don't you think they make me look good?"

 

Ray laughed a little and kissed Tori's forehead. "Mind if I use your shower?"

 

She nodded her head and stayed where she was as he dashed to the bathroom. She stared at the door and clutched some of the sheet to her chest. She felt dizzy, and a little scared. She feared the big words like 'marriage' and 'family', but at the same time, she had picked up that Ray wanted those things. She knew it was a little early to worry about a proposal so she just rolled over and closed her eyes.

 

A few minutes later, Ray came out of the shower. She was watching him button his jeans when he looked up and noticed her staring. He smiled.

 

"Ray?"

 

"Mmm?"

 

"Now what?" she said softly.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I just need to know what happens now, between us. Do I sit around waiting for a call that'll never come or...?"

 

He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. "I dunno."

 

She sat up, still grasping his hand. "What does that mean."

 

He shrugged and stared at her for several seconds. "I don't." He leaned over and gave her a deep kiss. When he sat back, he saw the question still in her eyes. He wanted to tell her about his last conversation with Stella, about the fact that he'd opened the way to let her in. He wanted to say that he cared for her deeply. He wanted to tell her so many things. Unfortunately, what he chose to say turned out to be more harmful than helpful. "I've thought about some things. Last night I was watching you sleep. I can't hold that kiss with Fraser over you anymore. We've shared so much more. I was focusing on the wrong things. I haven't even thought about it since I realized how I felt about you."

 

Tori furrowed her brow and let everything sink in. Later she would realize she should have asked how he felt or shared how she felt, but instead she went right to what bothered her. "If you weren't thinking about Fraser, why'd you just bring him up?"

 

"I was only saying it isn't an issue." Ray held her hand a moment longer.

 

"But you just made it an issue again."

 

"I didn't..."

 

"You do that. You keep making it so much more of an issue."

 

He began to feel defensive. "How am I supposed to answer that? Anything I say'll just end up hurting you, won't it?" Without another word, he put on his shoes and shirt and headed for the door.

 

Tori stayed in bed for a few more minutes before readying herself for work. Her alarm had gone off early so she could make it to the boxing ring before work to practice. She reached over and changed the alarm time and closed her eyes. She felt a lump in her throat, but refused to let a tear escape.

 

-------

The way we fight.

The way I'm left here silent.

Oh these little earthquakes

Here we go again

-------

 

Ray sat at his desk, phone to his ear. Huey and Dewey walked up to him as he hung up.

 

"What'd you find out?" Huey asked.

 

"Nuthin'. The guy's not talking," Ray replied.

 

"He got a record?" Dewey inquired.

 

Ray shrugged. "Dunno yet. All we got is a description on Tori...Detective Brooks' motorcycle and the address of the building. They found those on the back of her picture."

 

"So we're pretty sure it's a hit on her, huh?" Dewey said as though he was thinking aloud.

 

"Oh, yeah," Ray affirmed. "No question. Problem here is that it's not my case. I have to watch this whole thing from the sidelines."

 

A quiet "Hello," came from behind the boys. They stepped aside. When they saw that it was Stella, they disappeared as quickly as possible. Ray looked up and saw her standing before him with a file. He looked disappointed.

 

"I'm sorry I came by, Ray. I got this file first thing this morning and thought I should come see you." She dropped it before him.

 

He flipped it open and saw it was on John Miller and this case.

 

"I heard some people talking. Heard you were with her when it all happened. Heard about, well, there are a lot of rumors. You ok?"

 

Ray simply nodded, but didn't make a sound.

 

"I came down here to talk to you, see if you know anything that can help."

 

He looked past her to see Fraser approaching. Fraser stopped when he saw Stella standing at the desk so Ray stood and passed her. "Fraze, glad you're here. I need to get my mind off...things. Let's go back to that Pross artists address and get this art theft thing taken care of."

 

Fraser simply nodded and followed Ray from the precinct, a tad confused.

 

-----

 

They arrived in front of the office building again. Ray took a deep breath before getting out of the car and let it out slowly as they started inside.

 

The door to the suite opened as they neared it. Fraser hurried ahead and held the door open for the woman carrying a mailbag. He stayed and held the door for Ray, then followed. Ray flashed his badge at the woman behind the desk. "Alexandra Pross?"

 

The woman raised an eyebrow. "That would be handled by Mr. Simon Mortalis. He's down the hall, last door to the left."

 

"Handled by? What does that mean? He like an agent?" Ray queried.

 

She shook her head. "Not really," the phone rang and she put her hand on it. "He can explain it better." She turned away from them and picked up. "Artist Investments. How may I direct your call?"

 

Ray and Fraser walked down the hall and found the last door on the left was wide open. The gentleman at the desk wore an expensive suit. His smile disappeared when he took a good look at the two men before him. "Yes?" he said coldly.

 

Ray showed his badge again. "Detective Vecchio. This is Constable Fraser. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

 

"In regards to...?"

 

"Alexandra Pross," Ray replied. "Her checks are being sent here for her paintings. It's listed as her studio. Why's that?"

 

The man walked to the door, closed it, and offered them seats across from his desk. He then sat back behind the desk and folded his hands. "We offer a certain," he paused to choose his words. "A specific service to our clients. Many of these artists stay in abandoned lofts, sometimes condemned properties; which is, of course, illegal. We find buyers for their works and one of the things they get in exchange is that they get to have their mail sent to a reputable place."

 

"Hm," Ray began. "And how do you make money?"

 

"A percentage of their sales, of course."

 

"So you're an agent? Like for actors and writers?"

 

"Essentially," he replied. "The difference is that artists are a newer, untapped market. Very lucrative. Of course the company deals in other investments, but we cater to a very particular type of customer."

 

"You mean rich," Ray filled in.

 

The man simply nodded. "Will that be all?"

 

Fraser and Ray stood. "I guess," Ray said and opened the door.

 

Fraser noticed a pile of artists canvases somewhat hidden behind a filing cabinet. He tried to determine the reason behind having them there, but couldn't.

 

"Before we go, I'd like to know where I can find Ms. Pross."

 

The man shook his head. "I don't think I can tell you."

 

Ray shifted. "Why not? I just need to speak with her. I don't care if she's on some abandoned property or anything."

 

"Don't you?" Mr. Mortalis. "I find that hard to believe."

 

"I just need to talk to her, ok?"

 

Simon looked at them for several seconds, then scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Ray. "You have to go up to the third floor."

 

--------

 

 

When they stepped onto the landing of the third floor they could smell paint. It was obvious the place hadn't been painted in many years so Fraser and Ray walked toward the smell. As they walked along the hallway, they came to an opening which took a huge amount of floor space. Looking around they were met by canvasses, paintings, a ruffled bed. And a humble easel. The easel was angled so that the canvas on it got direct sunlight. Fraser walked around and looked at the front of the painting. It was a half finished abstract work. Just as he leaned in he heard a voice behind him and spun.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

Ray turned also to face the voice. A woman in her mid thirties stood before them in a severely dirty smock.

 

Ray smiled a little. "Mr. Mortalis sent us. I have a few questions about your art."

 

She smiled in return. "Would you like to buy something?"

 

"No, nothing like that. You are Alexandra Pross?"

 

She nodded.

 

"We saw one of your paintings and had some questions."

 

"What kind of questions?"

 

"Uh, we noticed that one in particular is the exact size of a painting by John Waterhouse that was recently stolen."

 

She furrowed her brow. "A lot of paintings are the same size."

 

Fraser interrupted. "This one was 27 and a half by 18 and a quarter inches. It is a very odd size."

 

She shrugged. "My canvases are blank when I paint on them. None of that painting over master pieces stuff," she replied.

 

Fraser nodded and began thumbing through her canvases.

 

"Can I help you find something?" she asked almost defensively.

 

Fraser shook his head and Ray continued. "Why do you paint those still life paintings. The gallery owner says she can't get as much for them."

 

She shrugged again. "I don't know. I just like to paint them. Mr. Mortalis told me I should paint them if that's what I like. He says it is ok that they don't sell for as much."

 

"And why do you live here if the other paintings are selling?" he inquired.

 

"I haven't sold very many, really. I just paint and give them to the galleries...Mr. Mortalis is handling the money. He sold one recently that will give me enough money to get an apartment. Up until recently, it's only been the still life's that sell -- just enough for me to eat for a month."

 

Ray nodded. There were some inconsistencies, but he thought little of them.

 

Fraser pulled out a blank canvas and examined it. "Do you make your own canvases?"

 

"I used to, but Mr. Mortalis provides them now. He buys my paint too. It came out of the first paintings I sold."

 

"Hm," Fraser said. "We can go."

 

Ray shrugged. "Huh? Why can we go?"

 

"It is Mr. Mortalis we need to speak with," Fraser replied simply.

 

"Again?"

 

Fraser nodded. "Thank you, kindly, ma'am. May I take this canvas with me?"

 

She folded her arms. "You want one of my canvases? No painting?"

 

"No paint is necessary."

 

"Hundred bucks," she replied.

 

"Ray," Fraser nudged.

 

Ray began to open his wallet. "$100? Why am I giving her that much for that? she should paint something on it first." He handed over the money.

 

As they walked out of the building and too the car, Fraser leaned the picture against it. Ray watched as Fraser pulled up a corner of the fabric covering the frame. He pulled it away, revealing another layer of canvas -- with a painting on it.

 

Ray's eye's opened wide. "The paintings are underneath?"

 

Fraser nodded. "He's carefully recovering them and giving them to her."

 

"Amazing," Ray replied.  "Pretty tricky.  Why would he do that?  Parade them in public that way?"

"Well, they are well hidden," Fraser said in thought. "I believe the question is not about parading them in public.  He specifically intends to have them not sell easily by having her less desired still life paintings on them."

"I'm confused, Fraze.  What does that accomplish?"

"They always end up sold, correct?  It seems most likely that he controls the selling price, then he sends a buyer to buy them at that price."

"So it's a set up?"

Fraser nodded.  "Once the buyer picks it up for a small fee, a legitimate fee, he is free to take it home and own an original painting by a famous artist."

Ray shifted on his feet.  "Ok, so he has the painting, he covers it, has her paint on it, then sells it?  That's dumb.  Why doesn't he just do a trade in his office or something."

Fraser paused a moment.  "Only one thing makes sense to me.  Customs."

"Huh?"

"In order for a painting to go through customs, the buyer needs a reputable receipt.  This way a buyer from another country can take the piece home."

"So it's not just Mortalis, it's the buyer too?"

Fraser nodded.  "I expect a foreign buyer willing to bankroll the theft is willing to make the small purchase at the gallery in order to have the painting in their hands."

It all came together for Ray.  It made perfect sense.  The checks for large amounts came to Mortalis who only cut in Pross for a small amount.  Another small amount went to the person who was willing to steal the painting, but how did Mr. Caldwell fit in?  His wife had made it clear that he had been very insistent on the purchase of that painting.

He turned the car around and headed to the Caldwell mansion.

----------

Ray and Fraser stood in the entryway waiting to see either Mr. or Mrs. Caldwell.  Ray began to twist his hands when Mr. Caldwell approached.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Ray replied.  "I'm Detective Vecchio.  This is Constable Fraser.  We spoke with your wife, but we'd like to ask you a few questions."

Mr. Caldwell led them to the room where they had been before.  The three sat on the oversized seats.

"Mr. Caldwell," Ray began.  "I don't want to waste your time, so I'll get right to the point.  Why were you so insistent on the purchase of the Waterhouse?"

Mr. Caldwell stared blankly for a moment.  "Waterhouse is a favourite artist of mine."

Ray tipped his head.  "From what I've seen, he painted feminine stuff. Flowing dresses and that kind of thing."

"True I suppose.  I felt it suited the dcor."

Ray shook his head.  "Your wife pointed out to us that it was different to everything else."

The man straightened and cleared his throat.  "I felt it was a good investment."

"Why?"  Ray jumped in.

Mr. Caldwell waited a moment before answering.  "Because I had heard about the other robberies.  I heard that there is this surge of interest in Waterhouse and that is why the paintings were being stolen.  I thought I could get in on it.  We got it at an auction and the price was good.  I thought I could sell it soon to one of these European yuppies and make back twice the money."

"You knew about the robberies and you didn't put it someplace more safe?"

"I have an excellent security system.  I was certain no one could get past it," he replied.  "I see I was wrong.  Look, Detective, it may have been a strange move, but I have a very. set way of life here.  I didn't get here by avoiding chances and investing in one certain thing."

Ray nodded.  "All right.  One more question.  Most of the people who had paintings stolen hired PI's.  Why didn't you?"

"Because the people who hired Private Investigators don't have their paintings back.  I felt I should try something else.  Especially since I have friends in the department who have promised that I will be satisfied with the results.  They better be right."

Ray stared at him.  "I do my job, Mr. Caldwell.  Don't worry.  You'll have your precious painting."

Mr. Caldwell stood.  "I'm not sure I appreciate."

Ray stood and challenged him.  "I don't appreciate you.  You sit up here in your little house all high and mighty, calling in favours.  I don't like it when people call in favours, ok?  I don't like it when I get pulled off MURDER investigations so I can find a measly painting."

"Get out."  Mr. Caldwell demanded.  "Get out right now."'

"My pleasure," Ray replied with a growl.

Fraser followed him out.  "Ray," he began as they got into his car.  "I'm not sure that was productive."

Ray scowled.  "I'm so tired of this, Fraser.  I'm tired of people treating me like.like."  he let the sentence trail as he sped away.

A few moments later his phone rang.  He reached in his pocket and handed it to Fraser.  "Detective Vecchio's cellular telephone.  This is Constable."

The voice was loud enough Ray could hear that it was Welsh.  "You and the Detective better be in my office in TEN MINUTES!"  Then there was a click. Fraser returned the phone to Ray.

As the two stepped into the squad room, Ray went straight to Francesca. "Hey Frannie."

"What do you want," she said without looking up from the computer.

"I need you to pull up some records," he replied.  "Simon Mortalis and Alexandra Pross.  Also I need you to see if any of those paintings have shown up in Europe."

"Now how on earth am I supposed to do that?" she asked as she sat back in her chair.

"Vecchio!"  Welsh hollered from the doorway to his office.

"Uh, gotta go," he said with a smile.  "Be creative."

Welsh's face was red.  "I got a call from Mr. Caldwell."  He paused to take a breath.  "Would you like to explain just what you were thinking?"

Ray cleared his throat.  "Uh," he paused and watched Welsh's face get redder.  "You know, I'm just thinking about all the unsolved murders and."

"Look, Detective.  I know this is beneath you, but I have my orders and my job is to make sure you carry them out."

"I know, sir.  I'm sorry.  We've got it under control.  I think we've about got it all figured out."  He looked out the window and saw Frannie turn to him with a thumbs up.

"Oh?  Care to enlighten me?"

Ray made his way to the door.  "Can't right now, Lieutenant.  Gotta go solve this case."  He left before Welsh could stop him.

He took the paper Frannie held out to him and read as she spoke.  "Simon has been arrested several times for dealing in stolen sculptures.  Never been convicted, though.  Pross has nothing.  I even found a painting."  She handed him another page.  "One painting was spotted in London."

Ray had all he needed.  The case now involved international affairs.  He made his report and took it to Welsh.

------------

 Tori sat quietly in her apartment staring out the window.  She held her lease in her hand and let out a long breath.  The message on her machine was supposed to be good news.  Her landlord informed her that they had found a new tenant, therefore she was willing to end the lease with no repercussions.  Tori already had a new apartment and the boxes lined the walls.  She set the stapled pages on the floor and put her feet up on the couch.

She had seen Ray several times when she was at the gym practicing her moves. He always hid around corners or down the street.  Many times he casually walked past the building and looked in the windows and once he'd come inside.  She'd pretended not to notice.  She was too hurt to deal with him. 'If only he had called me back, just once.  If only.'  It did her no good. She buried herself in her work and tried to make sure he could get hold of her, but she was finally ready to say goodbye.  Now she didn't even want him to get hold of her.

 

---------

 

It had been six weeks since the last time Ray had spoken with Tori. Images of her filled his mind as he sat behind his desk and stared at the phone. He held a card in his hand with her phone number on it, but he couldn't bring himself to dial.

 

That first week, she'd left three messages at his house for him. He didn't even listen to them, he just erased them. She didn't call again for two weeks and when she did, she'd called and left the message with Frannie.

 

Fraser stepped up to Ray's desk and sat on a chair across from him. He saw that Ray was preoccupied so he simply waited until he was finally noticed.

 

"Hi, Fraze. What can I do for you?"

 

"Nothing." Fraser watched him for a moment. "I see you are still avoiding the boxing ring?"

 

Ray sighed and dropped the card. "Actually, I was there this morning." Fraser raised his eyebrows and Ray continued. "We didn't box." Francesca joined them. Ray glanced, but made no acknowledgment. "She still goes there on Monday's and Friday's for practice. I watched her today."

 

"Isn't that a little creepy?" Fran jumped in.

 

"Shut up!" Ray said defensively.

 

"Ray," Fraser cut in. "Why haven't you called her?"

 

Ray turned away, ashamed. "Isn't there a case I should be working on?"

 

"Probably," Frannie said. "Personally, I think you should spill the dust."

 

Ray looked disgusted and quietly said "Dirt, Frannie. It's dirt."

 

"Whatever it is, Ray, I want to know what happened."

 

Ray looked around and Frannie sat on the edge of his desk. "It's none of your business."

 

"You have to tell me," she insisted.

 

"No, I don't," he replied and pushed her off the desk.

 

"Fine," she snapped. "But don't you come crawling to me when you have a question about woman stuff."

 

Ray sniggered. "Don't worry. I won't." He sighed and turned to Fraser who simply stared back. Ray leaned back. "I'm going to call her, really I am. I just want to think of what I want to say first." He remembered back to what he had said. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong, really, but she'd made it clear it had something to do with the way he was dwelling on her and Fraser. "Why do I always ruin everything?"

 

Fraser shifted. "Well, Ray, the only way you can make this situation better is to speak with Detective Brooks."

 

Ray sighed. "Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut?"

 

Fraser shook his head. After several moment, Ray picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card.

 

"Detective Brooks," came the voice through the phone.

 

He waited, unable to speak.

 

"This is Detective Brooks," she paused. "Speak."

 

"Uh, hi," Ray replied softly and cleared his throat.

 

There was a brief pause. "Oh, Ray. I'm glad you called. I was afraid I'd miss you."

 

"Miss me?"

 

"Well, I'm sorry to dump this on you, but I'm moving. Being transferred."

 

"Huh?"

 

"I'm leaving Chicago. I'm leaving Illinois. I'm going through some training so I can be a detective in New York."

 

"What?"

 

"You heard me, Ray. Look. I'm sorry. I have to go. My partner and I are on our way back to the station and I have a lot of paperwork to do before I leave. I'll see you." Click.

 

Ray sat there for a minute and listened to the dead air before hanging up. As he stood and headed for his car, he rubbed his temple.

 

"Where are we going?" Fraser asked as he climbed in with Ray.

 

"Dunno, for sure."

 

"Hmm."

 

"I don't want to hear your 'hmm' Fraser. Keep it to yourself."

 

"You know, Ray, you really only have two options. You either call Detective Brooks again and apologize..."

 

"I'm not going to call her back."

 

"...or you learn to live with yourself."

 

"That's not the problem, Fraser. She's leaving."

 

Fraser looked inquisitive.

 

Ray noticed. "She's moving to New York. She's as good as gone." He smacked his car. "She's leaving me for good. I really messed it up."

 

The next few weeks he spent trying his hardest to be something he wasn't; happy. He had made the mistake of waiting until the next day to call her back. He'd come up with an idea, a farewell dinner, but her numbers had been disconnected. He tried calling several friends, co-workers, but no one knew where to find her.

 

-------

Yellow bird flying gets shot in the wing.

Good year for hunters and Christmas parties.

The way we fight.

The way I'm left here silent.

Oh these little earthquakes

Here we go again

Oh these little earthquakes

Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces.

We danced in graveyards with vampires till dawn

We laughed in the faces of kings never afraid to burn

Watching us wither

Black winged roses that safely changed their color

I can't reach you

I can't reach you

Oh these little earthquakes

Here we go again

Oh these little earthquakes

Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces.

------

 

THE END

Watch for Part 3 'Fragile'

 

Song credits:

'Full of Grace' by Sarah McLachlan

'I Love You' by Sarah McLachlan

'Case of You' by Joni Mitchell

'Ghost' by Emily Sailers

'Shock to my System' by Rick Springfield

 

 

http://hexood.com/dsa/