Spoilers : Ep 1-16 of Moonlight, season 1, previous chapters of 'Season 2'
Summary : (Un)life goes on – after their trip to New York, Mick and Beth go back to their jobs. Beth finds out something the Legion would kill for.
First posted : ff.net, January 2009
Disclaimer : The characters are not mine, no money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Freshies ‚R’ Us
Previously on Moonlight:
Mick, sitting crouched against the wall, looking pale and clutching a plastic transfusion bag. Blood is running down his chin. He looks up, and says: "I'm a vampire".
Josef opens his mouth, his fangs lengthening, and bites down in the arm that a young woman is holding up to him. // Mick bites Beth in the desert motel, his eyes pale and bloodshot.
A Cleaner is closing up a body bag on the floor of Josef’s apartment. The eyes of the dead woman are staring up to the ceiling. Her neck is torn. Two more body bags are lying next to the entrance.
"Have you done this?" Mick asks, gesturing back at the house and trying to keep accusation from his voice. Josef looks past his friend, to the Cleaners who are still busy in the living room.
"I didn't-" he breaks off and looks back at Mick. "-mean to," he finishes blankly.
Josef is sitting at his desk in his new office. A laptop is set up and several folders and newspapers are spread out in front of him. His cell phone and Bluetooth headset lie abandoned on the polished desktop. The large flat screen on the wall flashes mutely with a news broadcast and a stock market index ticker. Josef is gazing at the screen absentmindedly until a buzzing noise awakes him from his reverie. His fingers brush the surface of the desk top and light blue digits light up, activating the inbuilt intercom system. A pleasant female voice informs him that Mick St. John has come to see him. Josef looks around his office, shaking his head and giving it up as a lost cause, and tells his receptionist to let his friend through. He runs a hand through his hair and takes up the headset, hanging it over his ear. He straightens his tie and sits back. Mick comes in and offers him a smile, apparently relieved that everything seems to be back to normal and there are no freshie bodies strewn over Josef’s office. He approaches the desk. Josef gets up.
“Hey buddy,” Mick says, “how are you?” They shake hands.
“Oh, you know,” Josef says nonchalantly, sitting down and offering Mick the chair opposite of him, “keeping busy.” He takes off the headset with a grimace, rubbing his ear with his hand as if he has been on the phone for hours. Mick breathes in, wrinkling his nose, and he looks around, his eyes flying over the papers on Josef’s desk and the sideboard near the wall under the flat screen. Finally, they come to rest on a waste bin. He gets up. Josef follows him with his eyes.
“Ah, is something wrong?” he asks neutrally, his expression changing as he realises where Mick is heading. He narrows his eyes. Mick looks down on the contents of the bin and back up at Josef. Inside the bin are several empty blood containers, the bags sticky with congealed blood. There are tags from the morgue hanging from them.
“New diet?” Mick asks, walking back to the desk.
“It’s the age of the microwave, Mick,” Josef says, trying to sound suave. “I’ve been too busy to get something decent. Kostan Industries is represented in all time zones; it gives me an edge on the competition.” He checks his watch, “It’s almost noon in Europe by now.”
Mick raises an eyebrow. Mick voice-over : In all the years that I have known Josef, he has never drank blood from the morgue voluntarily. The older we get, the more we get stuck in routines, vampires as well as humans. And when a 400-year old vampire changes his feeding habits, something is wrong.
“It’s a phase, okay?” Josef says defensively, seeming to have read his friends’ thoughts, “I’ll get over it. I have no intention to join those new age, hippie vampires and become a vegetarian, so to speak. I’ll be back to my old self and on top of the food chain in no time.” He flashes his fangs. Mick smiles.
“Hippie vampires, huh?” he says. Josef makes the V-sign with the fingers of his right hand. “Peace out,” he says, and rolls his eyes. Then he focuses back on Mick.
“So, tell me about New York. How was it?”
Beth is sitting at her desk in the DA’s office. Benjamin Talbot is standing behind her.
“Beth? Beth.”
Beth turns around quickly, looking tired. “I’m sorry, I was-“ she starts, but Talbot interrupts her.
“I think we need to talk.”
Benjamin Talbot is impeccably dressed. He also wears his usual serious, slightly stressed expression. Beth follows him into his office, looking anxious. Talbot offers her a chair and she sits down, nervously clenching and unclenching her hands. Talbot sits down on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms and ankles, looking down on her.
“Look, Beth,” he starts, “I know this has been a really tough year for you.” Beth opens her mouth to speak, but Talbot holds up his hand. “And I understand that. I do. And if this…St John is helping you cope with it, I support that. But I am sure that everyone here will sympathise if you give us the signal that it’s becoming too much for you.”
“It’s not too much for me,” Beth says stunned, “I’m fine.”
“I don’t know how to say this Beth,” Talbot says, “But you don’t look it. When you are here, you’re distracted; you’ve been missing office days…”
“I was at a funeral,” Beth says blankly, “I was going to hand in a note.” She looks up at Talbot. “Am I being fired?” she asks.
“Fired? No,” Talbot replies, in turn looking stunned. “I wanted to offer you a new case. But before I do, I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You can work in your own hours, that’s no problem, as long as you let me know. Take days off, if you need them. Just tell me, okay? I hired you because I appreciate your self-discipline and your independence. Please show me that was not a misjudgement in character.” Talbot looks at her, trying to see if he’s getting through to her. Beth nods and clears her throat.
“I suppose I have been…pre-occupied.” She has no intention of telling him more than that.
Talbot nods almost invisibly.
“So…what’s this case?” she asks. Talbot looks at her and gets up. He walks around his desk and takes a file from his drawer He opens it and takes out three photographs, laying them out on the desk. Beth takes her chair by the armrests and moves it closer to the desk to see. Three young women look up at her. The first has dark, curly hair. She is looking at the camera with a confident smile. The second woman is pale and blonde. She is wearing a white lab coat. The third picture is unfocused, taken in a bar. An Asian woman is posing for the camera, holding up a cocktail. “An arts student, a dentists’ assistant and a law student,” Talbot says. “They have all been reported missing last week.”
“What’s the connection?” Beth asks, not taking her eyes off the pictures.
“They were friends at high school. The police talked to their families,” Talbot says, also looking down on the pictures, “But they hadn’t heard from them for several weeks and said they didn’t know what exactly they were doing.”
“Or they wouldn’t say, because they felt guilty for neglecting them,” Beth says darkly. “Do you think it’s drugs or prostitution?”
“That’s what you need to find out,” Talbot replies, “The police department thinks it might be connected to the trafficking case we dealt with last year. It would certainly help to get more solid proof on that case– our team has been on it for months but we might lose it in appeal. Your contact at the police is Lt. Davis.”
Beth nods.
“If the cases are connected…and these women are still alive,” Talbot says, “They might testify. Will you take the case?”
“Of course.”
“She did WHAT?” Josef asks, raising his voice, his eyes shifting to ice.
“She did it for us,” Mick replies, his voice low and calm. “To help you find Sarah’s killer.”
Josef gives him a long look.
“I don’t want either of you to take unnecessary risks. Neither of you are immortal.” He shakes his head. “Besides,” he says, throwing up his hands in a helpless gesture, “do you have any idea of the flack I get from the Circle for you being involved with a human? Imagine what they’ll say if they find out she’s joined the Legion.”
“What? What are they saying about me?” Mick asks, but before Josef can answer, he continues, “and do they know about Sarah? Did you tell them?” There is anger in his voice now, and the hint of a threat. “We travel across the country to help you, and you are worried about what a bunch of self-righteous vamps will say? And since when is my personal life anyone’s affair but mine?” The words rush from his mouth like a waterfall.
“Mick,” Josef starts to say, but Mick interrupts him.
“I’m not finished, Josef,” he says, getting up from his chair. “You might own half of Los Angeles,” he says, and Josef pulls down the corners of his mouth in a self-deprecatory grin, cocking his head with an expectant look at what comes next, “but not even you can afford to patronise me.” Mick lets out a deep breath.
His friend gives him a pointed look. “Are you done now?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Mick crosses his arms and looks back at Josef.
“I think you misunderstood me,” Josef says. “I’m on your side. I have been telling the Circle to mind their own business; it’s not my fault they prefer other people’s. All I’m saying is – and I’ve said this before – your relationship with Beth is making you a target. It makes her one. For vampires and for the Legion. The more she knows about us, the more they can force her to reveal. You're making it pretty hard for me to watch your back.”
“I can watch my own back,” Mick snubs. Josef sighs.
“Look, can we start this conversation again? You come in, I ask ‘how was New York’ and you say:,” Josef starts, lowering his voice and assuming a cool, laid-back pose he seems to think fits Mick, “’Well, Josef, we’re this close to finding out who killed Sarah and will hand you their blood in a crystal decanter, served at body temperature.’”
“I don’t talk like that! And I don’t slouch!” Mick says indignantly, but he smiles despite himself. Josef smiles back.
“Are you sure Beth will be okay?” he asks.
Mick nods.
“Sam? Hi, it’s Beth,” Beth says, sitting at home at the kitchen table, her laptop open in front of her. The screen shows several windows with newspaper articles in the background, and a Skype video chat. Samantha, Beth’s ex-colleague from Buzzwire, is looking tired and hassled. She is glancing over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry Beth, I can’t really talk right now,” she says in a hushed tone, looking back at the screen, “Lewis is on my case, bad. I think he wants me out of here – must be the male thing, you know…He can’t deal with it that I know more about computers than he does.” Sam rolls her eyes.
“So there’s no chance you can run some checks through for me?” Beth asks hopefully.
“No, sorry. He’s just waiting for me to do something like that-“ Sam takes hold of her laptop and moves it so Beth can look into the Buzzwire office. The blond, slightly overweight boss of Buzzwire is lecturing someone in the background, with many flourishing arm gestures. He is wearing a flashy cream coloured suit. The video moves back and Sam comes into view.
“See? He already threw out Larissa.”
“What?” Beth asks, shocked. “She didn’t tell me about that! When did that happen?”
“Two weeks ago. She was on the Britney case, and missed her almost crashing into another car with her children in the back. TMZ got it instead. Lewis was furious.”
Beth frowns. “Larissa mailed me last week, I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”
Sam shrugged. “Well Beth, it’s not like you’ve been running down either of our doors to check in on us since you left Buzzwire, you know.”
Beth bites her lip. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“That’s okay,” Sam says with a knowing smirk, “I bet it’s that handsome friend of yours who’s been distracting you huh? The old-fashioned guy?”
Beth blushes, and evades the question by replying: “Let me know what Lewis is up to okay? I’ll keep my ear out and let you know if I know some place that needs a computer mastermind like you.”
Sam grins. “I’d prefer a good-looking young employer without macho-issues, please.” She winks at Beth and disconnects. Beth sits back in her chair, looking at her screen. Then she gets up, taking up her purse. She walks over to the dresser in the bedroom and checks her reflection. Smiling encouragingly at herself, she walks towards the door.
Mick’s apartment. Mick is cleaning up, adjusting the pillows on the chairs at the coffee table and picking up a stack of books to file them back into his bookcase. His crystal fireplace is burning. Mick voice-over : It is comforting to know that Josef, in his own way, worries about Beth and me. It’s easy to believe Josef cares about nothing but himself – even I have told him so often enough. But in the end, I’d like to think he needs me as much as I need him. Forever is a long time to spend on your own.
Mick’s phone rings. He smiles as he looks at the display, and picks it up, his eyes checking his apartment.
“Hi Beth,” he says.
“Mick, I er- have to cancel our appointment,” Beth’s voice says hesitantly. “I have to work.”
Mick looks at the clock that hangs to the side of his desk. “This late?” he asks, sounding disappointed.
“Yeah, I’m on a new case. Maybe we can talk tomorrow and I’ll tell you about it then? I kind of need to meet someone now.”
“Okay,” Mick says, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “Bye.” He hangs up and for a moment just looks at the phone in his hand. Then he looks over his apartment, which suddenly seems empty and over proportional.
Mick voice-over : I bought this place in the late seventies, before the building became a historic-cultural monument. I had immediately fallen for the view of the city and the steel and wood interior and its Art Deco style. It reminded me of my childhood. The building itself was created as an institutional quality office building in 1930, but had fallen into disuse in the crises years, becoming hard to sell for its massive structures and relatively small floor space. I kept it as it was, installing only the bare minimum in furniture and refurbishment – security cameras, a shower, a freezer, an office, a kitchen to keep up appearances. Screens to block out the sun during the day. The Spartan look of my quarters never really bothered me before, but right now? It feels cold and desolate.
Mick glances at the large painting near his desk. Coraline had sent it to him after one of their break-ups. He had never got round to hanging it somewhere, not sure if he really wanted to or not, so it had been standing there leaned against the wall for the last twenty five years.
//flashback : Coraline, on her knees, looking into his eyes as she waits for the stake to hit her heart. //
Mick closes his eyes, pushing the memory away.
Logan’s basement. Logan is wearing large earphones and almost seems in trance. His eyes are closed and he’s nodding to a loud hypnotic base drum that can be heard through the headphones. A loud ringing penetrates the music and Logan wakes, vamping out, growling with his fangs out. He opens his eyes, which shift colour from amber to deep brown, and retracts his fangs, though still looking annoyed. He checks one of his screens. Beth is standing in the hallway, looking around nervously. Logan frowns, but flips the release on the door, letting her in. He takes off the headphones. The drums continue to hammer quietly in the background.
“Hello…” he says testily, trying to look around her. “Is Mick with you?”
“No, he’s not,” Beth says. “But I was hoping you could help me anyway.”
“Am I going to get in trouble with your vamp boyfriend if I do?” Logan asks.
“I don’t think so,” Beth says, smiling lightly, “it’s not like I intend to pay in blood.”
“Oh,” Logan says, shrugging, “I guess that was too good to be true anyway. I don’t get female company often. Let alone live ones.”
Beth looks around the basement. Toy robots are lined up on a shelf. A large Transformers-poster decorates one of the walls. “I can see that,” she says, trying to keep from grinning.
“So,” Logan says, “what can I do for you?” He flexes his fingers and hovers them over his keyboard, ready for action.
“I’m looking for three missing girls,” Beth says. “Any information you can get me through their names would help.”
“Alrightio,” Logan says, accepting the sheet of paper Beth hands him. “This might take a while, feel free to play a round of guitar hero. Just don’t mess with the settings.” He nods at the guitar shaped control that lies on his desk. Beth glances at it and raises an eyebrow. “Thanks, I’ll just…wait.”
“Well, I guess this is the link you’re looking for,” Logan says cheerfully, beckoning Beth over with his head. Beth walks around the desk and looks over his shoulder at the screen. A confusing row of numbers and code blinks at her.
“Uh…what am I looking at?” she asks.
“Bank account data,” Logan says proudly. “It looks like all three girls came into some money lately. Look-“ he points at the screen, “Here, she’s paid off her study debts-“ he clicks into a new window, “And here is a large sum transferred to a real estate agent, a flashy apartment I’d say, maybe in the Hills? Then there are several credit card traces from Sunset Boulevard… My guess is they took up a lucrative side-job.“
“Can you see where the money comes from?”
Logan taps on his keyboard, scanning through pages on two screens simultaneously at supernatural speed. Beth blinks and averts her eyes to stop her from getting dizzy.
“Nope – it were cash deposits. My guess is it wasn’t 100 % legal, huh?”
“Can you get me a print-out of this stuff?” Beth asks, bending closer to look at the dates on the monitor. Logan looks up at her, his eyes briefly lingering on the neckline of her shirt. Beth straightens, blushing a little.
“I could,” he says, “as long as you don’t leave it lying around somewhere. It would be hard to trace me, but nothing you do on the internet is invisible.”
“Of course,” Beth says.
Mick stands in the shadow of the trees near a coffee bar, scanning the street with his eyes. He spots Beth, who is walking towards him while talking on her phone. He smiles and steps forward, holding up his hand in greeting before shielding himself from the sun with it. She sees him and smiles back, ending the telephone connection and putting the phone into her shoulder bag. They reach each other in front of the coffee bar. Beth takes off her sunglasses and looks up at Mick.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” Mick replies huskily and leans over to kiss her. Glowing, Beth beams a smile at him, and they go into the bar. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Beth says while they take a seat and orders a large café latte.
“That’s okay,” Mick says, “I had some overdue paperwork anyway. And I updated my website.”
“Oh really? Took yourself off the market at Single!Vamps dot com, I hope?”
Mick makes a face, shaking his head disbelievingly.
“I’m not on anything like that!” He looks around to see if anyone is listening in, but there are only two other people in the bar, one of which is at the phone, and the other talking to the waitress.
Beth shrugs. “Many people meet their partners through the internet these days, it’s no big deal. Of course, sometimes there’ll be creepy guys who pretend they’re thirty when they are really eighty-si-” Beth stops herself and hides behind her coffee, laughing quietly about the indignant face Mick is making. He looks out over the street, an amused smile on his lips. As he looks back at Beth, their eyes meet and for a moment they just look at each other.
“So what’s this case you’re working on?” Mick asks, breaking the silence.
“Three missing girls,” Beth replies. “Talbot thought they might be connected to a trafficking case, but I doubt it. I found out they were receiving rather large sums of money in regular intervals until last week – so it’s unlikely they got involved with lover boys or smugglers. I mean, they don’t usually pay their victims.”
Mick nods. “Have you been to their apartments?”
“Not yet. Lt. Carl Davis will take me there later.”
“Do you want me to come?”
Beth hesitates. “I know you’d be great…but I kind of want to do this on my own, you know?” she says.
“Fair enough,” Mick replies. “I need to do some work later, too.”
“Oh, what are you working on then?” Beth asks interestedly. Then she smiles. “It’s really cool to exchange case files with you.”
Mick smiles back. “I’m asked to look into a gym. Several women have been sexually harassed over the past months. One of them managed to scratch the perpetrator and got his blood on her. They took DNA-samples of all male employees and the club’s regular visitors and the attacks stopped for a while after they took an employee of the studio in based on the DNA sample. But then there was another assault while the alleged rapist was in custody. The police thinks it might be a copycat, or a second perpetrator. Or maybe they caught the wrong guy. The case has been re-opened now and the owner hired me to keep an eye out. Mostly to show she’s taking precautions.”
“Well, if anyone can make people feel safe, it’s you,” Beth says. “Do you think the person who did it will come back?”
”I don’t know. Maybe my being there will be enough to keep him at bay. But I’d rather just catch him and put him away.”
“Of course. Will I see you tonight?” Beth asks.
“I’d like that,” Mick replies.
“Me too,” Beth says, smiling.
One of the girls’ apartments. Lt. Carl Davis is standing by the door with an elderly woman. She has brown, curly hair.
”Thank you for letting us into your daughter’s apartment again, Mrs Hannigan,” says Lt. Davis.
”Anything to find her, Lieutenant,” she replies, wringing her hands.
“Did you remember anything about the last time you talked to her? Anything she might have said that will help us find out where she is?”
"I keep going over our last conversation in my head, but...nothing."
"Nothing about going on a longer holiday...or something about having to leave town?"
"No, not at all! I've already told you - she was going to come by last Wednesday, and when she didn't show up and we couldn't reach her, we called the police. It isn’t like her to stay out of touch." She nods towards the door. "So what's she looking for now?"
"Anything we might have overlooked," Carl says.
Inside, Beth is walking through the apartment. The furniture is a mix of old and new and has the look of a haphazardly assorted set to fill the large living room.
“So, the police already searched the apartment?” Beth asks conversationally, as she leafs through the papers on the desk.
“Yes, rudimentary though,” Carl replies from the door.
She takes a few pictures with her mobile phone. There's a mirror on the wall. A few photographs are stuck into the frame. One shows two girls, a blonde and a brunette, arm in arm in the night, both in evening dresses, holding up two champagne flutes. Beth looks down on her clipboard. It has the profiles of the three girls on it. She leafs to the second page, and compares the pictures. They are the same girls. She carefully pulls the picture from the frame and looks on the back. There's no date on it. She puts the photograph back where she found it. She looks over to the dresser. A light is blinking on the telephone set. She glances at the door, then presses the button.
The message starts to play. It was recorded on the 22nd. Beth checks her phone - it's the 24th.
"Hello Melissa, this is Ted from the agency. Eh, right, you're not in so...I guess that sort of answers my question. I had something for you tonight. Give me call on 031-" Beth grabs a pen and scribbles along with the number. She circles it.
A look over the desk shows a mouse on a mouse pad, a network cable and a conspicuously empty square. Under the desk is an empty carton showing a modern laptop on the side. Bubblewrap plastic is pouring from the top. Stacked on the table next to a cardboard cup of coffee-to-go are several books of arts history. Beth walks back Carl Davis.
"Where's the laptop?" she asks.
"In the buro. Mrs. Hannigan gave us permission to search it." He nods at the woman, who smiles feebly. "But we found nothing on it, so it'll be sent back as soon as the paperwork is done."
"Thanks, Carl." Beth gets out the car and waves to Lt. Davis in thanks for giving her a ride. He drives off. She watches his car blend into traffic, and then walks to a telephone cell and slides in a card. She takes a deep breath, and dials the number she had noted down in the apartment.
"Yes?" a voice on the other side answers.
Uh...hi. My name's Kate," Beth says. "can I speak to Ted?"
"Speaking. Where did you get this number?"
"Melissa gave it to me. She said I should give you a call."
The other side stays silent for a few seconds. "Well, that's going on her record. We have a secrecy codex."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make trouble for her. But I am discreet. She told me to ask for you specifically."
"So what do you want?" Ted asks, sounding mollified.
"Melissa asked if I could fill in for her."
Ted sighs. "She knows better than that. I told her last time we don't review applicants without personal recommendation."
"Oh."
"But I can take your name and your type into our database and make a remark that you called," Ted offers. "We did the same for her other friends, and they worked out fine. Just come with her next time Melissa comes in, and we'll talk about it."
"My...type?"
"Yeah, you know, your blood type."
Beth is sitting at her laptop, the pictures of Melissa's apartment opened on her desktop. She is scrolling through them while holding her mobile phone to her ear.
"Logan? It's Beth Turner. Could you run a check on a phone number for me?"
She takes her clipboard and starts reading him the number. Halfway through, Logan interrupts her.
"...197-0?" he finishes.
"-97-3," Beth corrects him.
"Elite Exchange," Logan says, "That was hardly a challenge. You seem to have someone's extension there, shall I look it up?"
"Is it...an escort service?" Beth asks.
"It's a freshie service," Logan says, "a bit like Freshies 'R Us, only more expensive."
"Freshies 'R Us?" Beth asks, stunned.
"They do take-aways. It's pretty good, I have them on speed dial."
Beth makes a face. "What else can you tell me about Elite Exchange?"
"Well, they have a pretty exclusive membership. It's above my budget but I hear it's very classy. They only hire students and graduates. Not my thing, really. When I am hungry, I just want something warm, not discuss politics or art."
"Right. Thanks."
She lowers the phone, looking at the pictures on her screen.
Mick's living room. Mick and Beth are sitting at the coffee table. Several boxes of Chinese food stand opened on the table. Beth is eating out of a carton with chopsticks. Mick is watching her, fascinated.
"...how you can eat with those things," he says, adding: "I'm sorry about the moussaka."
Beth shakes her head, not wanting to speak with her mouth full. She chews, and swallows.
"It's okay Mick, I know how hard it is to get the aubergine right. Especially," she points at him with her chopsticks for emphasis, "when you can't taste it. But this is great. Josh used to get me some after work."
She looks at Mick smiling. He is unsure how to reply. "It's okay, Mick," Beth reassures him, "it's a good memory."
Mick nods to show he understands.
"So," Beth says, picking up another box, "how was work today? Did you catch the guy?"
"Actually, I did," Mick says. "It was one of their fitness trainers."
"I thought they had taken DNA samples of all the employees?" Beth says, cocking her head and looking at him curiously.
"They did," Mick replies, "but that isn't always conclusive."
Beth grins. "Your vampire sense told you otherwise?"
"Yeah," Mick says, "something like that."
//Flashback// Mick voice-over: I was supposed to meet the owner of the fitness studio after my inspection of the dressing rooms..
Mick is walking down the hallway leading to the office of the studio. The walls are decorated with sports medals, and there is a glass display case with gold and silver cups. Mick walks past them, and stops at a framed newspaper article. The headline reads "Marrow donor saves young athlete's life". The picture next to the article shows two young men, one of them wearing a spandex outfit with Olympic rings on the chest. He looks happy and confident. He other man has an arm around his shoulder. Next to the article hangs an 'Employee of the month' plaque, displaying the second man, a few years older. Mick checks his watch and knocks at the office door. When no one opens, he puts his ear to the wood. "Ms Casey?" he calls. There is no reply, but his ears pick up a scuffle inside. He tries the door. It is locked from the inside. A woman cries. Mick puts his shoulder to the door and forces it open. Ms Casey, the studio owner, stands by her desk, hunched, her arms clasped around herself. She looks shocked.
"What happened?" Mick asks, looking around and checking the room. "Was he here?"
The woman nods.
"Did he hurt you?"
She shakes her head. "He tried to, but your call scared him." She points at the open window. "When he heard you, he jumped out of there."
"Did you get a look at his face? Did you recognise him?" Mick asks, stepping up to the window and already scanning the grounds for a sign.
"He was wearing dark clothes and a balaclava," Ms Casey says. "He said something, though. That you wouldn't catch him. That he could do whatever he wanted, because...he was untraceable."
"Everyone leaves a trace," Mick says. "Call the police. I'll find him."
He jumps out of the window, lading on the ground lightly. He smells the air -and in his mind- sees flashes of a dark clad man, running. There are traces in the grass. He follows them at preternatural speed, going around the building to the parking lot. There, a man is getting into a car. It's the athlete from the marrow transplant article. Mick crosses the distance in the blink of an eye, laying his hand on the door frame of the car, holding it closed.
"What the..." the man says, pulling at the door and looking at Mick. His hair is tousled and he is looking sweaty. "What do you want?" he asks.
"I want you to stop assaulting women at the fitness studio," Mick says.
"What? I didn't do that," the man says angrily. "The police took my DNA, what more do you want?" He pulls at the door handle again. It won't budge. Mick keeps it forcibly closed.
"I think they may want to test again," Mick says threateningly, "with blood this time." He flashes his fangs. The man takes a step back, letting go of the door. Mick grabs his arm and he screams.
"What are you?" he asks, horror-stricken.
"Your conscience," Mick replies. "The marrow transplants may have given you a new chance at life, but you chose to blow it. You violated your clients, masking yourself. You were scared, weren't you, when the forensics took your swabs? And then they couldn't find you...because the marrow transplant altered the DNA traces of your blood, adapting to the DNA of your donor, while your other cells retained your own genetics."
"How...? What?" the man stammers, confused.
"The police caught your friend. The donor! He saved your life, and you set him up for your crimes!"
"I...I didn't know..."
"But once you found out, you didn't stop it either," Mick says disgustedly. Mick grabs at the man's neck, pulling up the balaclava, and baring his skin. "Now, do you want me to take a sample?" he said, his fangs showing as he spoke, "or would you rather wait for the police?"
The man pulls at his arm again and Mick leans in. //flashback end//
"Was it him?" Beth asks, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth, the bite of food forgotten.
"Yeah, it was him," Mick says, "He confessed everything to the police. The donor was cleared of all charges."
"How did you know all that?"
"Gut feeling," Mick says, "And a course on blood and bioinformatics at UCLA."
"You were in college?" Beth asks incredulously.
"I listened in a few times. I thought it might help me find out more about the Cure." He smiles. Your food is getting cold."
Beth smiles and puts the noodles in her mouth
"What about your case?" Mick asks.
"Yes, well, I think I reached a point where I do need your help," Beth says, putting her chopsticks down. "Talbot wanted me to find these girls and see if it could be traced back to the trafficking case, but I found something entirely different. I think they were part of a vampire escort service called Elite Exchange. Have you heard of it?"
Mick raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, I have. How did you find out?"
"Logan," Beth says offhandedly.
"Logan?" Mick repeats, frowning. He's about to speak as Beth continues :
"So if you know about Elite Exchange, then you can go up there with me and we can demand access to their database, find out where they were when they disappeared." She takes the pictures from her bag and hands them to Mick. He decides to ask about Logan later, and looks at the first picture.
//flashback// A body bag closes over Melissa’s face. Her eyes are staring up at the ceiling. //
He looks at the other two pictures. "You won't find them," Mick says resolutely, handing her back the pictures. Beth looks stunned.
"Why, do you think the agency will make trouble?"
"They're dead. The Cleaners took care of it."
"How do you know?" Beth asks astounded.
"Josef killed them."
Beth goes wide-eyed and looks at Mick in shock.
