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In Dreams He Came (w/Deviousfish)

Morathor

Morathor

Supernova
Joined
Feb 19, 2012
Location
Midwestern USA
Leo wanted to feel relieved, or even victorious, but he was mostly just furious. The DPI had been pushing for jurisdiction on this case since the third 'suicide', but the head of homicide--Leo's boss--had been dragging his feet. He'd had some case files transferred over but refused to offer the DPI any real support. Even after the fourth death, he insisted on carrying out a full homicide investigation, reopening the other three cases, looking for links--which would have been fine, if he had done so in cooperation with the DPI, who were actually trained to deal with this sort of crime. Only after three months of investigation turned up nothing did he relent and turn the case fully over to the DPI.

Most of the homicide department, in fact most of the police department, did not trust the Department of Paranormal Investigations. Leo would admit that when he was younger and dumber, he had felt the same way. They weren't cops, didn't answer to the same authorities, and in fact to this day Leo was a little fuzzy on what authorities they did answer to. Besides, the vast majority of 'paranormal' cases turned out to be quite mundane, perpetrated by the delusional or the deceptive. So the DPI were 'creeps' or 'leeches', who wasted time and money investigating mainly bullshit.

When Leo's first case as detective took a turn towards the occult and DPI took over, he had insisted on staying in the loop the only way he knew how: by volunteering as their liaison to the police. What he saw of their operation was... surprisingly normal. True, half the staff were psychics of some kind or other, but they were professional and logical and definitely not 'creeps.'

And the particular agent with whom he had worked that case had left him in awe. She was, he had to admit, a better detective, a better cop, than he was, even without her psychic powers. It didn't hurt that she was so easy on the eyes either... he was pretty sure that ship would never sail and he wasn't holding his breath for her, but still.

That first case had been six years ago. Since then, he had been the go-to liaison to the DPI. It wasn't an official position or anything but when the cops needed to work with the DPI Leo was their first choice. And, as far as he could tell, they felt the same way about his 'partner', since he had worked with her on almost every shared case.

And now, here he was again, waiting for her with four thick folders full of case details. He only wished he could have been here nine months ago. But he tried not to think about that. Wishes didn't help anyone. This killer--assuming there was a killer and this was not some extraordinary coincidence--claimed a victim every solstice. There were about three months until the winter solstice. Three months to solve this thing, before a fifth victim was claimed.
 
When she had been called into the Assistant Director’s office on that early August morning, Anna had not known what to expect. Her boss’s tone had conveyed urgency and the slightest hint of excitement. There was a glint in his eye as he relayed her instructions and it became clear why he was so pleased. The “Solstice Suicides” as they had been dubbed by the media had acquired some amount of infamy. Her boss and a handful of other agents and executives had been fighting for the case for months. Finally, it seemed, they had wrested it from the stubborn grip of the local police. He no doubt saw it as a personal victory and an opportunity for the department to gain some recognition. Despite advancements in technology and public education in the etheric sciences, their department was still widely regarded either with mockery or mistrust. Her boss had made it his personal mission to rectify that. He didn’t seem to realize that steamrolling the head of homicide might have the opposite effect. “I’ve got a feeling about this one, Brennan,” he had declared, confidently preening from behind his desk.

Anna did not feel quite as confident in her boss’s assessment. There was still a great deal of speculation surrounding the deaths and to assume that the incidents were etheric in nature was premature. Of the many cases she’d covered over the years, the majority were eventually found to be the result of ordinary (relatively speaking) human activity. Of course she had done her due diligence and worked hard to solve and close the case. Still, she understood the PD’s reluctance. It made them look incompetent when they were forced to hand over every slightly peculiar case to the DPI and downright careless if circumstances turned out to be less supernatural than expected. She chose not to speculate for now. When she met with the departments liason and examined the case files she’d be able to draw he own conclusions. With lives at stake, she couldn’t afford the luxury of unfounded suppositions.

When she had discovered who would be her partner on this case, she felt a small surge of relief. If he was responsible pushing the case in her direction, then maybe there was some credence to the rumors of paranormal interference. He understood how she operated, didn’t ask stupid questions, and didn’t insult her intelligence by treating her as anything other than a fellow detective. He had, she suspected, something of an admiration for her that could extend beyond the boundaries of professionalism if she allowed it. That was out of the question, though. Of the many she had worked with, he was one of the few whom she respected and whose company she enjoyed. There was no way she was risking a valued professional relationship like that over a fling.

She could see his figure in the distance now. He was clutching the case files and looking more than a little irate. Whether his expression was that transparent or she knew his moods well enough by now, Anna was not sure. Likely he thought things had been handled poorly and the most recent deaths could have been prevented. Maybe he was right.

Her flats clicking gently on the laminate floor, as she made her way towards him at a brisk pace. He should be able to see her now, making her way down the corridor. She was of average height, dressed sensibly and modestly in slacks, blouse, and a steel grey jacket. The clean, pressed lines of her masculine garb concealing the smooth curves of an athletic feminine form. Her badge, bearing the emblem of the PDI, rested on the curve her hip and glinted in the morning light. As she approached, a rare smile graced her lips and she brushed a strand of her shoulder length honey blonde hair from her face.

"Harris," calling him by his last name, when she was close enough not to shout. "Just can't stay away, can you?"

She extended her hand to shake his, a uniquely intimate gesture for her. As a psychometric, her hands were the primary tool of her trade. Unlike the ordinary person, she was hyper aware of everything she came in contact with. While she had full control of her power and could not involuntarily read something, she was still abnormally sensitive to touch. Emotions and suggestions could still sort of "rub off" on her whether she was using her abilities or not. It would often leave her with an unfocused, disoriented feeling if it took her by surprise. Out of necessity, she tended to remain as physically distant from most people as possible. Something that had proved to be a significant complication in both her social and more intimate aspects of her life. However, she trusted Leo and was more comfortable with his aura than with most, so she did not fear an unpleasantness from contact with his hand.
 
Leo stood up as Anna approached, dropping the files on her desk. He smiled, but his dark brown eyes still smoldered. When she offered her hand, he began to extend his own, but stopped short and withdrew it. "I don't know if you want to touch me right now. My mood might rub off." He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against her desk. Leo was only an inch or two taller than Anna, and when he slouched or leaned--as he often did--his eyes were about level with hers. What he lacked in stature he made up in bulk; his white polo shirt was stretched tight across his broad chest and wide shoulders. Despite being one of the more senior detectives he only did the bare minimum to meet the department's dress code.

Leo tapped the files that he had set down. "I know the director gave you guys some of these files over the last nine months but I bet a lot of them you're seeing for the first time. I don't know if you've been following the news either. I mostly haven't, so I don't know if they've mentioned the pattern... not the solstice thing, I mean, the geographical pattern. We didn't see it until the fourth death, and we haven't actually discussed it with the media but that doesn't mean they haven't picked up on it." He pulled the bottom folder out of the stack and opened it, pulling out a map of the city. The locations of the four deaths were dotted on it with red marker, and then connected in order with a yellow highlighter. They seemed to be drawing out a five-pointed star, although the last point was (thankfully) missing.
 
Anna smirked and withdrew her hand.

"Honestly now," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think there's any mood of yours that I couldn't handle."

All the same, she crossed her arms and cut her eyes over to the desk where he had placed the folders, not pushing the issue. The desk shifted slightly as he leaned casually against it and she watched a pencil roll around in its cup. As casual and unpolished as her friend was, Anna was as stringent and careful. When she first met him, she had scorned his sloppy appearance, thinking him lazy and unprofessional. After a while it had grown on her. It suited him - his style, his personality. He helped to balance her oft perceived coldness. She stopped the pencil's noisy circular journey with with one finger.

Leaning over the folders, she opened one on the top and started rifling through it. Much of it did look familiar, but there were details that had not been delivered to the DPI - evidence logs, photographs, notes from first responders. Whether these had been omitted intentionally, or they simply could not be bothered to be thorough with the sharing of information, Anna did not know. There was a great deal more here that would have to be sorted through. She was going to need another cup of coffee.

"A pattern?" she said and raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. "I hadn't heard any suggestions like that."

Then she looked at the paper with the locations mapped out. There did indeed seem to be a star being drawn. Alone, it might be overlooked, but coupled with the solstice times it looked very suspicious. Regardless, it did seem to indicate a very specific area for these deaths to be taking place. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the crime scenes, otherwise. Some victims where at their homes, others in their car, and others out in public.

"I think its a little early to be drawing pentagrams on maps," she said gesturing lazily at the paper. "But if you're right, it makes our jobs a lot easier. We've practically got an arrow pointing to the next murder location."

She traced an index finger to the place where the next point on the star should be. It was a somewhat rural area, right on the edge of suburbia. Mostly woods, dirt, and a few new housing developments under construction.

"Although, of course, we'd like not to wait for that."

Anna still wasn't sure if these deaths were all that suspicious. The economy was down and people got depressed. It was all very sad, but it did not mean etheric forces were involved. Still she had to consider the coincidences of time and geography. It was too much to overlook. If it was suicide, then it had to be coordinated somehow. Maybe some underground cult? Those popped up from time to time. Some sad, ignorant souls got a taste of the arcane and thought that could conjure up some immortality or fame or power. Murder seemed the less likely possibility. Coroners, paramedics, and officers had all ruled out foul play when looking at each victim individually. Of course, when dealing with the etheric, or someone who wielded power over it, there were many, many possibilities. Still, Anna wondered if there was something else that was bothering Leo about the cases.

"I will say it does seem like to much to be a coincidence..." she began slowly. "But there's got to be something else about it that's got you so riled up. Anything strange you observed about the bodies? The scene?"
 
"It's nothing like that, but it's just..." He waved his hand vaguely. "All these suicides have motive but the motives just don't add up for me. Like there's some piece we're missing." Which was certainly not the same as evidence, but Leo was not the sort to entirely dismiss his intuition. As far as he was concerned, it was his subconscious pointing out a pattern his conscious mind hadn't grasped yet. Or in this case, the lack of a pattern.

"The first death. Guy commits suicide because his girlfriend leaves him. I know that happens sometimes, but from the interviews of the people who knew him, he doesn't seem to have been the type. And yeah, I know that people who are depressed or considering suicide don't always have obvious signs of it, but it still seems... out of character. And then, I'm going to jump ahead to the third case because it's actually connected to the first, and I can't decide if that's reinforcing the pattern or if those two being connected and the other two being separate makes the pattern less plausible and no one else can figure that out either apparently and I'm... I'm..." He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Sorry about rambling. Third death is the girlfriend who left the first guy. She felt guilty, committed suicide. Only, again, it doesn't seem like her. Interviews of family, friends, there's some talk of remorse but overall it does not paint the picture of a suicidal woman." Leo pushed away from the desk and started pacing. When he was feeling tense he found it better to move around and try to keep his muscles loose, or they'd get sore and stiff later. "Fourth death they blamed on media coverage of the first three. Some paranoid guy gets it in his head that he's been marked, that he's next to die, that 'they're coming for him', kills himself. The thing is, he was paranoid but it didn't seem to ever be a persecution complex, like he was being specifically targeted. So that doesn't add up for me."

Leo finally sat down on Anna's desk. "The only one of these suicides whose motives make any sense to me is the second." Leo pulled the second folder out of the pile. "She actually came to us before she died. She said she had been raped, but there was no evidence. I mean, there was uh... she had some signs of arousal, but there was no trace of an attacker. No fluids, no hairs, no bruises, not on her, not in her apartment. She spent the next night at a friend's house and reported it again--but again, no evidence, and there's no way the friend could have slept through the kind of things she described." He shuddered. Even reading the very clinical descriptions from the report made his stomach turn; he couldn't begin to imagine what it had felt like for her. "Our psychologist said they were nightmares. She said her best guess was that the victim had been abused as a child, repressed it, and then encountered something that brought it back. She referred the victim to a therapist, suggested some medication, and then it was out of our hands. A few days later, she killed herself."
 
Despite seemingly having more reason to than most, Anna didn't like relying solely on her intuition. Even though her abilities could give her brief glimpses into the past, she dared not use it for more than a guide. It was an imperfect tool, being filtered through the often clouded window of the mind. Still, a detective sometimes had to go with his gut and she decided to trust Leo's. If he thought things were a bit off - she'd entertain the idea for now.

"A missing piece..." she muttered and looked down at the files again.

One by one, she pulled the pictures of the victims from the corresponding folders as he went over each case. She let herself reach out, connect with the memories of each photo. Of the people who had touched it, taken it. Of where it had been made. In the next moment, she was gone. Or at least that's what it felt like. Leo's voice was still there, barely perceivable, as if she was under water. The smell of decomposition and death filled her nose as she found herself standing next to each victim, looking down on them. The men had taken violent deaths, blood and gore smeared the scene. Not atypical. It teased at her gag reflex a bit, but she fought it back. The women had gone more peacefully, or so it seemed. Their bodies seemed barely tarnished by death. Anna understood why these scenes had unsettled Leo. There was just something not right about it. They lay lifeless yet beautifully and perfectly draped, like a tragic heroine in a Renaissance painting. The deathly pose seemed only to accentuate their female form in a way that seemed less than natural. One in particular caught her eye. She had been very beautiful. Even in death it seemed as though she was only sleeping and would wake in a moment...

"HELP ME."

The corpse's eyes shot open and Anna jerked back to reality. She shook and inhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus on the solid world around her. An imperfect tool. Her vision had shown her the scenes accurately, but either her own mind or the emotions of someone who had held the photos previously had corrupted it. It was a fairly common occurrence. She didn't know if Leo had noticed her start, but she chose not to mention it.

"Lets start with the latest death," she said, her voice cracking a little. Years of staring into the unknown and the visions could still rattle her sometimes. She recovered quickly though. "Its the freshest, so to speak. Maybe we can work on finding the connections from there. I'd also like to speak with that therapist. Maybe she told him something."

She picked up her coat and started for the door.

"We'll discuss it more on the way."
 
"Alright then." Leo picked up the files, as they'd be needed, and followed Anna to her car. As he walked he pulled out the file on the fourth and most recent case--the conspiracy theorist. He settled into the passenger's seat still looking at the file, and as Anna started the car he began talking. "Walter Bennet, 48, insurance agent. Very good at his job, financially secure, and from what his clients said he could be quite charming when he wanted to be. He didn't have much of a social life, though, and that seems to have been because he spent his spare time trying to protect himself from the various conspiracies he believed were permeating society, and educating anyone else who would listen about them. Most of it was along the lines of big impersonal institutions controlling the masses: government drugging the water supply, WalMart hiring powerful psychics as greeters, things like that. And the Solstice Suicide thing was one of his newer interests; he'd go on about how the media knew more than they were letting on, the police were covering things up, he'd get to the bottom of it. His coworkers agree that for a while before he died, though, maybe four to six weeks, his tone started to change. Suddenly he says he knows too much, he's being targeted. And that seems to have been a first for him. Like I said, most of his theories were very broad and impersonal, he was never being singled out or persecuted. And no one's been able to explain that change beyond that, well, people change. Anyway. He was really starting to unravel at that point. And about two weeks before the solstice he buys a gun. We're not sure if he was already planning to kill himself at that point, or maybe he thought he could defend himself. He stopped coming to work a few days before he died, and when his office called to see why he hadn't shown up he was mostly babbling. But supposedly he said something about not letting 'them' get him. And then on the solstice, he put the gun to his chin and..." Leo closed the folder. "That was that."
 
Anna tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully as Leo rattled off the information about the most recent victim. She knew his type. Smart, usually law abiding citizens, but sadly a bit delusional. Every once in a while this type of person would snag on some small piece of truth and then run wild with it. They seldom caused much trouble, only serving as an annoyance to people in her profession. Odds were this guy was crazy and out of some insane need to feel involved, injected himself into the case the only way he knew how - by becoming a victim. If that was the situation, it threw off the whole pentagram theory.

"I'm not sure that this guy isn't a red herring," she said finally. "The pentagram shape is only suggested by his death and he could have easily timed the suicide to work with the others himself. He could just be... a copycat, if you will."

In fact, Anna was already working out a logical explanation for all of them. The first and third were obviously related, so that explained the timing there. The second and fourth suicides were both mentally disturbed. If she was a less thorough detective, it would be an open and shut case. Might still turn out to be. However, she did have to reconcile why they were all on a date that has long been associated with the occult. And why all the deaths were equidistant from a central point. That was another thing that interested her. What was, geographically speaking, at the center of these deaths? Until she dug a bit further, she wouldn't completely rule out etheric activity.

Lost in thought, she almost didn't notice the red glare of the traffic light. Her foot came down hard on the brake. She had braced herself for it, but it likely gave her partner quite a jar. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a photo flutter out of one of the files in Leo's arms, likely disturbed by the sudden stop. It seemed familiar.

"Who's that guy?" she said, squinting at it. "There was...another photo of him...with a group of people. Didn't read it."
 
Leo instinctively reached up and grabbed the dashboard as the car jerked to a stop. When his head was a little clearer, he looked at the picture that Anna was asking about. "Oh this guy." He picked up the photo just to glare at it. The man in the picture had a lean face with a delicate chin and high cheekbones, just a trace of stubble that Leo suspected he spent at least a half an hour a day trimming to get the perfect slightly rugged unshaven look. His shoulder-length black hair was, similarly, in a neat braid except for a few strands that 'escaped' to hang in his face, almost certainly deliberately. There were a lot of things about this man that rubbed Leo the wrong way, but this picture reminded him of a certain streak of vanity that pissed him off. The amount of work the guy put into looking like he hadn't put any work in at all, that he just looked like this naturally. The photo also reminded Leo that the man in question could not be stopped, even when held at the police station and accused of murder, from making bedroom eyes at every woman he saw--or who might see him, even hypothetically. This was the only picture the police had of the man with his tinted glasses off, to get a good shot of his red-brown eyes, and he was using his unobstructed view to stare seductively into the camera.

"This is Donovan Byrne, the author. And by author, I mean he writes shitty new-agey occult books with his smirking face plastered on the cover. Sofia Reyes, the third suicide victim, broke up with Adam Hakim, the first, in order to pursue a relationship with Byrne. This seems to have been the impetus for Hakim's death, so of course we talked to him, considered both him and Reyes as possible murder suspects... then of course when Reyes died, he came up again. And of course we investigated him again. But we weren't able to come up with anything against him, or any evidence that the deaths were anything but suicide, so we let it go. Oh, and I guess Bennet was familiar with his work, because when we were going through the various journals and websites of his conspiracy stuff, Byrne's name came up when he was talking about... establishment plants placating the masses with sugar-coated half-truths. But it was just a passing mention in a list of over a dozen authors and talk show hosts and the like. We still gave him a thorough investigation, and turned up nothing again."
 
Anna couldn't help but smirk as Leo described the man in the photo. His dislike for him was pretty clear. Then again, the man did fit the bill for some underground cult leader. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the idea of dealing with some modern day Jim Jones, convincing his followers to kill themselves for supernatural purposes. Study of the etheric was becoming more mainstream each day, but it was still very mysterious and misunderstood. This gave rise to crackpots and charlatans, eager to take advantage of the common person's ignorance. She suspected that Byrne was of that sort. Of course, there was the possibility he was no fraud and had an understanding of what was "beyond the veil" a prospect much more disturbing. Best not to jump to conclusions, though. It was possible his involvement was with only those two deaths, which might indicate that the other two were isolated incidents.

"I see he made a wonderful impression on you," she said glancing sideways at her partner's frown. "Not that I blame you. If we can establish that he and another victim had contact, we'll bring him in again. The DPI has other resources we can take advantage of for interviewing..."

Better not to go into too much detail about those resources - both human and otherwise. The Department was very particular about who they allowed into their affairs. Something which was likely the direct cause for a lot of suspicion and mistrust surrounding their operations. Anna trusted Leo well enough, but her superiors might feel differently.

They were on the freeway now and traffic had thinned. They would arrive at the most recent victim's house soon. She slowly depressed the gas pedal and pushed the government issued vehicle over the speed limit, passing multiple cars in the slow lane. Her lead foot was notorious, something that came as a surprise to most people, considering her calm and level nature. For whatever reason, she found the speed helped her stay focused. Or maybe she just liked it. It was hard to say. Leo would not have to deal with anymore of those sudden stops, at least.

"Back to Bennett," she said as she swiftly and smoothly changed over to the fast lane, giving a couple other cars something of a start. "Does he have any family we can speak to? You said he didn't have much of a social life, but what about on the web? He had to have someplace to voice his theories." People like him tended to seek out others to confirm their beliefs. He would probably find quite the support group on the internet.
 
Leo put the Byrne picture away--he really wanted to crumple it and throw it out the window, but that would be unprofessional. Instead he pulled the folder on Bennet to the top, opening it up and holding onto its contents as Anna sped up. The speed didn't bother him much but he didn't want to lose anything. "Bennet's parents passed away years ago. He's got a sister, they didn't stay in touch very much. He did however have a blog, with a couple of very avid followers and some casual commenters. But we weren't able to get any of their real names or addresses. This was a conspiracy blog, after all, it was hosted on a site that valued its members' privacy. We didn't have enough for a warrant and they wouldn't give up any user info without one. We did reach out to them online, but most of them didn't reply. The two that did..." Leo flipped through the file looking for the transcripts of those message. "One of the more casual fans, goes by voice of revelation oh three nine eight, accused the department of killing him and covering it up as a suicide. At least I think that's what it said, you kinda had to read between the fucks for that message. The other, I swear their username is just keyboard mashing and I'm not even going to try to say it, they were a much more devoted fan of the blog. Their response was long, full of big words they didn't actually understand, cited some statistics taken out of context, and really could have been summed up as 'I don't know anything, I can't help you, and even if I could I wouldn't.' Now, if you can help us track some of these people down that would be a good start. I have a feeling they'll be more cooperative in person."
 
"I'm surprised you couldn't get a warrant," she said frowning. Considering all the fuss that had been made over these cases. "Did you get Judge Carlisle? I don't think he likes you very much."

Anna nodded, listening to Leo's summary of Byrne's relationships. She didn't think she'd get much from his sister. Without any recent contact, she wouldn't have any objects to read. As to the internet contacts, that was more promising, but she'd need help to reach them.

"Well, I can't read computers in the same way I read other objects," she said shrugging. "It really needs to be something the person had physical contact with. I'm not a hacker."

If they really needed those contacts, there were people that the department had access to who were just as good, if not better than having a hacker. One in particular that Anna knew of, could use his astral self to travel across and manipulate electronic data streams - a tactic he had used to pad a substantial Swiss bank account with other people's money. That was, until he had been caught, anyway. He was a last resort, however, since he could be difficult to deal with at times.

"Is this the place?" she said, nodding building just ahead.

They had left the freeway and she brought the vehicle to a more reasonable speed. The streets were lined with modest, low income homes and duplexes. She tried to clear her mind for reading. If she didn't allow herself any prejudices or suppositions, her visions would be clearest and unclouded by distractions. The author in the photo, the internet bloggers, and her any other doubts about the case had to pushed aside for now.
 
"No, it wasn't Carlisle, thank god. Evans." Leo shook his head. "It wasn't his fault. We didn't have anything solid, at least, not solid enough to stick to people whose business was built on privacy, and who would fight tooth, nail, and overpaid legal team to defend it. Although, also, I think Evans doesn't believe that people on the internet are real people."

When the pulled up to the house, Leo rapped on the window with his knuckles to confirm that they were in fact at the right place. "You may not get anything off his computer, but what about his mail? Think you can get a read on the original senders, or will it have passed through too many hands to pull anything clear?"
 
Shaking her head at Leo's description, Anna could imagine how the conversation with the judge had gone. It was true that they didn't have a lot to go on. Anna was still skeptical herself. Fortunately, there were ways around warrants, but those seldom stood up in court. She hoped her explorations would point to something concrete that would get them the evidence they needed in order to conclude these cases.

When they arrived, she pulled the keys from the ignition and hooked them onto her belt. Sliding out of the vehicle, she gave the house a look over. It was moderately sized with an unkempt yard and faded paint. Most of the windows had thick blinds on them. It didn't feel very welcoming.

"Mail is not the best, but it should do," she said, walking up the cracked driveway. "The memories have more to do with the significance of...."

She trailed off, staring at the door. There was no crime scene tape around and she saw no police sticker or lock box on it.

"Have they released the house back to the owners already?" she said, frowning. If the house hadn't been released, then that meant someone had removed the seal. Of course, releasing the property wouldn't be that strange. A lot of people thought this was just a suicide. Once the crime scene unit had left the scene, there wouldn't have been much reason to keep the place cordoned off. She just hoped a clean up crew hadn't been in there already. Much like physical evidence, psychic evidence could be contaminated as well.
 
"I... actually don't remember if we formally released it back to the owner yet. Or who the formal owner is, probably his sister but maybe a bank? It's in one of these files..." Leo dug through the various photos and documents as he continued speaking. "I mean, we've been investigating the case for three months now, and forensics got all the evidence they were going to find in the first few weeks. I guess they didn't see much point in keeping it sealed off after the first month or so... okay, here we go. House has been officially released to Bennet's sister as of... well basically at the same time we transferred the case to the DPI." He nearly threw the folders on the ground. Whoever had signed that order would no doubt say it was protocol, since by handing the case over to an agency like the DPI the police department was effectively closing it and had to make that sort of release. Maybe that was technically true, and maybe the person who signed the order even believed it. But it was still bullshit in Leo's book.
 
"Hmm...figures." she was mildly annoyed, but not terribly surprised.

Gazing at the house in front of her, Anna sighed. It had been thier victims sanctuary in life, and now it shielded him in death. They would have to get a warrant before they entered again. Unless they could concoct a very good reason to break in.

"What do you think about exigent circumstances, Leo?"

Striding cautiously up to the front door, she kicked aside several worn newspapers that had been left out to rot. How long had Bennet walled himself in this house, petrified with fear, before finally ending it? Or had these papers accumulated because his corpse laid undiscovered inside? Either possibility was depressing to think about.

"How long was he in before someone found him?" she wondered aloud.

Next to the entryway there was a window, painted shut from the looks of it. If she peered a little closer, she could see thick, ugly nails poking out of the sill, bolting it firmly closed. Entering that way was out of the question. Not that she had totally reconciled with breaking in. Rules were there for a reason, she felt. The right thing to would be to follow the proper channels and wait patiently. Respect the privacy of the homeowner. Make a solid case that can't be thrown out in court because of some technicality. But every day they dawdled, the trail grew colder and the next solstice grew closer.

Tentatively, she placed a hand on the doorknob. When she did, threads of memory traveled up her arm and wrapped around her mind. She heard the loud shouts of a landlord, demanding past due rent. He puffed and cursed and shook the hinges. That memory faded and another one settled in its place. There was the soft sound of a female's voice. This one was plaintiff, sad. She couldn't quite make out the words. In response there was the click-click of many bolts and chains, locking them both out. Anna shook herself and refocused on the here and now. The door would be locked tight. Probably bolted too. Still, she turned the nob. To her utter surprise, it opened. Odd.

"Well that's...interesting," she stepped forward, but felt at the gun on her hip.
 
"It's open? Really?" Leo glanced around the yard, then followed Anna in. "About your question, he was only shut up in here for a few days before he died, and then they got to the body the third day after the solstice. The first two days were basically just, waiting to file a missing person report, even though most everyone who knew him knew he was here and pretty much knew he was dead." As he drew up closer behind Anna, he noticed her reaching for her gun. "Get anything worrying off the doorknob, or just concerned that the house is unlocked at all?"

He looked around. It looked like nobody had been in here to clean--a blessing, he supposed, but it meant that there was dust everywhere and it was a little hard to breathe. There were footprints in the carpet, some looked days or even weeks old, while others were quite fresh. "Well, we've had a visitor today... any thoughts?" He turned sideways so he could pass Anna in the narrow hallway. Even though she could take care of herself quite well, Leo would rather she didn't have to if at all possible.
 
"Yes, really..." she said flatly and glanced around the entryway suspiciously. "No... not picking up on anything. Not yet, anyway."

The place smelled musty, but no aromas of cleaners or bleaches. Everything should be just as it was documented in the files. The were boxes and scattered notes and newspaper clipping everywhere. The house was in such shambles, it was hard to tell if anything was out of place. Her should brushed against a box flap and a cloud of dust billowed up in front of her. Coughing, she waved her hand in front of her face.

"Ugh. I guess he thought maids were part of the conspiracy as well?"

When Leo mentioned the footprints, she raised an eyebrow and crouched down over them.

"Might not be from today...its hard to say," she said, tilting her head as peered at them. "Could be from the owner. I'll check it out."

With her fingers, she gingerly touched the impression on ruddy carpet. The dirt felt dampish, apparently fresh. The next sensation was a jolt of energy, traveling up her arm and to the back of her neck. Her sight blackened for a moment and she thought a vision was trying to come through, a powerful one. But there was only static. It slipped away from her mind's graps almost as quickly as it had come. Not terribly unusual. Sometimes the memory just wasn't strong enough to materialize or there were too many rushing in at once and they cancelled each other out. Footprints weren't a concrete enough object to hold much anyway. The tingling aftershock that remained in her arm, though, that was new.

"Nothing," she declared, while rubbing her still buzzing arm absently. "They are definitely fresh, though. Lets clear the house, then keep looking."

She smiled a little as Leo stalked forward into the house protectively. It used to bother her when she first joined law enforcement when her partners would move to defend her. But there was a certain reliability to Leo's behavior that she had come to appreciate. Room by room, they could move as a team through the house, making sure there was no one lurking. Only then would she allow herself to search the secrets of the house more deeply.

"All clear over here!"she called. "Anything weird on your end?"
 
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