"It seems that Dr. Pike has his routine down pat, and is relatively benign on the outside."
"But you think there's something he's hiding." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Colton drank more of his coffee savoring it.
"The connections with the Wyrs and these mysterious deaths are too similar to Dr. Edwards and this Dr. X character's work to be merely coincidence."
"So..then have Fitz go in and check the place out. He has the gruffness of a grizzly. He'll fit right in." She offered.
He snickered over his cup. "Don't think I haven't thought about it. The Detectives have been staked out for the last few days, and barely made it in the door." Persephonii could tell that the detectives were just as frustrated that their lead suspect was coming off squeaky clean. So was she, especially when her gut told her he was somehow connected.
"I think our best bet is the Wyr Clinic, not the primary office. I was thinking I'd ask Chase along and see if we can't make some head way in at least one of our cases." Colton looked at her for clarification.
Recounting the first two mysterious death cases and the three others she had found in the medical records, she mentioned that the timing with the Rogue case couldn't be simple chance. Right now the two were separate with the Rogue taking up the majority of her time. Feeling somewhat guilty that neither case had progressed much since she had been assigned to them. She thought using her involvement on the mysterious deaths of Mr. Conner and Lawrence's, was a good way to meet with the doctor who saw to their health.
Colton agreed that a meet and greet with the doctor was a good idea, and motioned to his laptop. Paperwork was always a hassle but he had been trying to transfer Dr. Edwards' case to his authority, with so little evidence linking it to the Rogue Maker, he'd basically had to write the equivalent of a grant proposal to transfer the case from Seattle P.D.
The closer they could get to Dr. Edwards, the better a picture they could assemble about the personal side of his life, which included any associates or partners that he might have been working with off the books. Like the paperwork, it was another case of hurry up and wait. From Colton's explanation, he'd gotten the permission and was just waiting on the paper work to be filed and the 'keys' to be handed over to him. The majority of the departments, Police and P.P.D up and down the state reeling from Mr. Fischer and the circus around the Rogue Case had brought, the paper work was lagging behind.
It looked like the paperwork and the literal keys to Dr. Edwards' home would be arriving around the same time. Which left forty-eight hours to devote to Dr. Vance Pike.
Twin Pines Clinic. Mt Vista, WA. 3:55pm PST.
The Wyr Clinic was one of those old doctors' offices that had once been a house, a dentistry, a family practice, before falling into vacancy only to be snatched up by the Wyr as a clinic to tend to their few ailments. Aside from Silver Burn and the occasional scratches or injuries from skirmishes, the Clinic was mostly set up for expecting mothers. The other doctor, an O.B.G.Y.N. that hailed from the local hospital, stopped in every Tuesday and Thursday with the occasional emergency visit to the Clinic. She and a small team of Wyr, who had at one time been everything from veterinarians to R.N.s, staffed the office the rest of the week. What little funding the clinic received from the government was subsidized by the local Wyr communities, who collected funds from their members to help support and keep it open.
Such behavior was one of the finer points in the Wyr community, the capability to share resources and care among the different Wyr species. No one was turned away, even if they couldn't pay. Even the occasional non-Wyr family member was seen when the hospital was too far away to reach. This clinic was old but well kept, servicing the large wolf pack and neighboring smaller clans.
Montgomery had mentioned that the doctor drove a bright red convertible, which now sat outside the clinic, practically shouting that the 'doctor was in.' The parking lot had three more cars, two of which were parked toward the far side underneath the large evergreens, protected from the snow. She could guess that these two belonged to the staff and the third was likely a patient, parked front and center by the door.
Chase pulled up to the side of the building, far enough away from the front windows that they wouldn't be noticed right away. He'd agreed to be her back up on this 'little endeavor' since the area wasn't the greatest for outsiders. Plus, it would be nice to give Carver some news on his on-going case. So the two had sprayed down with one of Persephonii's concoctions, one that would mask any smells of the wolf pack staying in the Warehouse. She wasn't sure if the enforcers would be hanging around the clinic, Fitz had said Mason Donovan drove a large black truck and showed up at odd hours. She preferred not to take any chances and had even sprayed the interior of Chase's car. He'd threatened to retaliate if it stained his leather seats, but the car and their persons smelt like petrichor, the smell of earth after a rain, with undertones of their natural scents.
Making their way to the front door, Chase held it open, always the gentleman for Persephonii.
The nurse's smile was directed solely at Chase as he sidled up to the office counter window.
"How may I help you?" She was young, probably in her early twenties and looked fresh faced in her Christmas themed scrubs.
"Is Dr. Pike available?" Chase was barely laying on the charm, but she and the older nurse that came up behind her were nearly basking in his smile.
"May I ask... who's asking?" The professionalism finally kicked in at having to page the doctor that he had guests.
"Chase Argent and Percy...Sorry Persephonii Waters from Argent Waters Inc." He handed over a business card from out of his pocket, while the other nurse dialed the doctor's line.
While it would have been fantastic to step into Dr. Pike's office and tell just by his aura alone that he was guilty, sadly that didn't happen. After all, things like that were far too easy and outside of the normal, even for someone who could 'see' thing as Percy could. Instead, the meeting, though not formal, was rather stiff. Dr. Pike didn't appreciate being 'hunted down' to the clinic, his words not hers. His aura confirmed for Persephonii that they were looking in the right direction, though it gave little sign of murder or mayhem.
The conversation had started out polite and respectful in nature. Introductions were exchanged and the formal pleasantries spouted. His last patient for the day had just left, but he would be in the office until six to do 'paperwork' and incase any emergencies came in.
Chase had started off explaining that they were part of the investigation of Mr. Lawrence's death and had the doctor heard of Mr. Conner and the other strange death cases? All answers were a 'no'... it wasn't until Persephonii started asking questions about the health and overall wellness of the patients that Dr. Pike seemed to switch gears. Going from a hesitant helper to full out defense mode. He assured both Chase and Persephonii that any tests he'd ordered where safe and legal, and that the patients records were sealed under doctor-patient privileges.
Chase was clearly ready to push the issue, but Persephonii knew that force would only put them on someone else's radar. For all Dr. Pike knew, the two investigators where just doing their job following up on a case. They had met the doctor and now knew they were looking in the right direction. Where she would expect to see normal emotions such as sadness, confusion, even distraction from the unexplained deaths, Dr. Vance Pike showed all the signs of being a suspect.
Dr. Pike's aura eddied and moved with every answer he gave. Even in discussing the late patients he lied. Lied about not knowing them 'personally,' of meeting with Mr. Lawrence a few days before he became so violently ill. The reds, oranges and violets in his aura, closest to his physical body lent to being frustrated. Persephonii was evaluating them, sure that the colors represented irritation and even an overall apathetic response to the unexplained premature deaths of these Wyrs.
Persephonii felt more confident in asking to commandeer some of the computer servers to run back ground and financial checks on Dr. Pike and his relationship with the clinic. Sh
e would start with; who told him about the position? How did he come to work so far away from his primary care office or his residence? And finally what was he using the Wyr blood for if not running tests?
It seemed the visit had cemented his position at the top of the list but added even more work and questions to both investigations. And finally, they would need to find more than a thin connection between the two cases in order to catch him.
Chapter 21: Chylde:
A hierarchical title given to those Turned by a Maker. Usually as a sign of linage, when refer to the Chylde of....
Guthrie Center for the Arts: Chapman Music Hall. 9:45 PM. PST.
The Music hall was setup, ready for the performance. Instruments at the ready, however, the last practice session had been anything but routine. The first few rows stood straight, proud, and splattered with blood. Bodies flung in different directions, those closest to the pianist hadn’t made it to safety when she had lost her cool.
According to the witnesses who were now under guard at the hospital. Ms. Tabitha Lowery, a concert pianist, had been acting a little off lately, but the rest of the band had thought it was merely stress due to troubles with her boyfriend and a recent audition for a symphony.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Fox asked.
“Yeah..” Chase paused, not seeming to like where the line of questioning was going.
“Well you might want to stay out here,” Even though she could tell he was talking more to Chase than her, she gave Colton an even stare.
“I did warn you.” Colton shrugged his shoulders and walked off.
Making their way into the music hall, they were held up at the double doors as an officer rushed toward them, making it just past them to lose his dinner in the large garbage bin in the lobby. Fox looked at her again, one would have thought that after years of working on different cases together, he would have learned she had an iron stomach.
Chase on the other hand was looking a little green around the edges.
“Oh..nice. I’m gonna...” He turned toward the loitering officers in the lobby, motioning with his thumb toward the far corner where a group of officers, Montgomery and Fitz included stood. Nodding in understanding, she waved him on as she entered the scene.
This latest attack had left only three survivors from the small community band, with so little witnesses left alive the P.P.D. had decided to keep a lid on things. Hoping to catch both the Maker and those helping him; the P.P.D. was currently discussing their next step. Things were moving quickly as they hoped that this unpleasant incident would finally lead them to the Rogue Maker.
Persephonii felt that the choice of Turning these select individuals into Chyldren had become more and more personal for the Rogue Maker and that Ms. Lowery’s inclusion could provide the final piece of the puzzle in discovering who they were.
The recital had been little more than the band, and Ms. Lowery who lead the ensemble. The piano stood apart from the small orchestra, pristine in the chaos. Slowing down, making her way along the outer most aisle away from the throng of P.P.D, F.B.I and P.C.S.I, the scene was revealed.
Bodies lay scattered about, after the first initial point of violence the others had run, fleeing in shock, only to die in the aisles, no match for the new Vampyre's speed. Coming around to the front rows, she made her way closer to center stage, where the stadium seats had been ravaged, torn from their moorings, the navy fabric stained with blood. Something had happened here. As she drew level with the piano, she could make out the quite epicenter, where Ms. Lowery had been fine, normal, content playing, but then something had made her snap. Something to do with whoever was sitting in the front row, someone who’s seat was now strewn in several directions.
Picking her way through the carnage, hopping over bloody evidence as the P.C.S.I team tried to document everything and anything of interests, she made her way to the section now missing its seats. The surrounding rows were damaged, the section of four seats that had been the second row was smashed against the third, lifted as one piece and tossed back. As she tried to make sense of the energies, the swirls of violence and the cold, arctic chill that she had come to associate with the Rogue’s Chyldren she noticed a glint of metal among the shadows.
Moving closer, she grabbed the attention of the closest P.C.S.I. Vaughn’s latest grab at power had put out an order on the cases, citing that as Persephonii and Chase were technically ‘second string’ they couldn’t take photographs or document anything as it would mess with the chain of evidence. As Liaison she could have fought the issue, but it was a moot point at this juncture in the investigation. Parker Vaughn could be as petty as she wanted, Persephonii had already decided to rise above it, what else could she do.
Pointing to different areas she asked, Zach Nolan, one of the lead P.C.S.I investigators who happened to be the closest one to her, to take photos of this and that. Finally, feeling they had thoroughly documented the area, she pulled out the metal cylinder which was one leg of a tripod, with the remnants of a camera base still attached. If the camera had been flung, it might still be among the seats and in good enough condition to retrieve the data.
With one shared look, Zach grabbed the nearby officers and started hunting down the missing camera, while Persephonii tried to reconstruct the scene. Whatever had set Ms. Lowery off, had been focused on the cameraman, with a burst of speed and aggression she had killed him, flinging the body far enough away that it had not been evident that anyone had died there. Her anger still raging, she had torn apart the seats. The violence had obviously surprised those she called friends, causing them to pause in shock, before instinct kicked in and they ran for the doors.
Running away is always a bad choice when facing Paras. Not only does their speed and strength make it a fruitless endeavor, but running draws their attention and kicks in their hunting instinct. Had they stopped and tried to make their way through the back, as quietly and slowly as they could manage, there might have been a few more survivors added to the list. Sadly, instinct was instinct, for both human and Para alike.
A distinct ‘AHA’ was heard from somewhere around the back of the center rows, as an officer, raised a cream colored gloved hand in the air, clutching the cracked and misshapen camera. Though his enthusiasm had prematurely removed the camera from where it had come to rest, Nolan quickly moved in, taking photos and bagging pieces all while giving the young officer a glare for breaking the chain of evidence and reluctant props for finding the device so quickly.
The digital S.L.R was relatively new, but in so poor a condition it would have to go back to the lab for data recovery. With the F.B.I unit on the case, she doubted it would be long before it was moved to the top of the list. Hoping that they could get something new from the camera, she decided her skills would be put to better use delving into Ms. Lowery’s life. Which meant she would need to grab Chase, notify the units and head out to scour the musician’s home for possible leads.
Home of Ms. Tabitha Lowery. Broker Street, Lakewood, WA. 11:23 PM PST
Getting permission to search Ms. Lowery’s home along with the few free officer’s now assigned to the case, had taken less time than she had thought. But the speedy okay also came with a sitter, obviously Agent Savage's emotions had yet to cool, in regards to Colton's connections and 'stuff in the works'. He was still coming down hard on Colton, enough so that he bypassed the seasoned Agent for a newbie. Agent Rebecca King was fresh, so much so that around the edges of her complexion tinges of green still lingered. Persephonii doubted Agent King had seen anything like the aftermath of such violence. Even with more than a decade herself, Persephonii was hard pressed to find another case that resulted in so much blatant carnage. Ms. Kunhe's reception paled to the shear violence of the Music Hall.
Chase's phone rang but no one picked up. Guessing that he was still at the Hall with Montgomery, she headed into the house to start processing it. The ranch style home was located in a small suburb, not far out of town. Though not posh, the house was
well taken care of, its white exterior and dark navy shutters and trim like many others in the neighborhood. Except now the owner would not be returning ever again.
Agent King and the officers stormed the house, quickly and quietly, they searched though each room, but Persephonii could already tell the house was empty. No signs of movement or occupancy other than the days mail which Ms. Lowery had left laying on the counter before she had gone out to start her 'day'. It appeared that she hadn't been too active in her home, the fridge was empty but the smell of rotting food still lingered. Someone had left them to rot before cleaning it out, perhaps the Maker? Or Ms. Lowery herself?
It shook Persephonii how these people seemed to simply step back into their lives, as if still human. Perhaps they were truly unaware of the Turnings, but she doubted it. How could they not notice their skin burning from the sunlight or their sudden aversion to food. Though the older Vampyre could go out during the day, with sufficient over cast skies, and eat human food, though those she had talked to had mentioned feeling uncomfortably full and that the taste of the food was pale compared to memory. Could the experiments have also meant some resistance to sunlight?
Only seeing the end result of the experiments left little answers to the how of things. But she supposed that the eerie cold that permeated these last few Chyldren could mean that the Rogue was making an effort to not only improve and speed up the Turning process but also bypass the new-born years, creating strong, old-Vampyres without the wait. Was this all in an attempt to make a Kiss of strong nearly ancient-like Vampyres? Without the first few years of relentless thirst or maddening instinct? A Kiss controlled, subtly, by a Maker who was growing more erratic in nature with each Chylde he created. It was a chilling thought.
Looking at the living room, the kitchen, a poignant weight settled over Persephonii. Ms. Lowery had been living a simple life, the pictures on the walls and mantle indicated it was the house she had grown up in. She had loved music at an early age, and grown up happy. Persephonii hoped her family had merely moved or retired elsewhere, rather than Ms. Lowery inheriting the house from their demise. She was contemplating the musician's place in their constructed theory when her phone rang, Chase's ring tone echoed from her pocket.
At First Sight (Persephonii Waters Book 1) Page 23
