******************************************

 "Sidney did it,  he was," Natalie coughed, "uhm, hungry."
Good thing she wasn't hooked up to the polygraph machine, the bells
and whistles would be throwing a party about now.   Her face betrayed
nothing.  Sometimes she was better at lying than her erstwhile
patient, Nick.  Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be
seen.   Good old Natalie Lambert, pathological liar and doctor for
the undead.

 Schanke frowned. "You should get him checked for rabies.
That's a nasty bite."

 "You're right, he should be checked for rabies.  I'll mention
it to him next time he bares his fangs.  One frontal lobotomy coming
right up."    She turned back to the corpse on the exam table.  "Any
word back from Sualt Saint Marie on their unsolveds?"

 "No,  the victims match up, but the killing stopped before
they found a suspect.   Whoever is doing this, moves fast.  Vancouver
had a few similar four months ago.  Might be coincidence, might
not."  He poked at the magnifying glass.  "What's that?"

 She looked through the glass at the exposed brain matter.  The
flourescent lights gave off a surreal glow, and there, just where Don
was pointing was a single hair, dyed red with blood.  "Ooh!  Good job
Schank." She grabbed the evidence bag and tweezers.  "You may have
found a part of our killer."

 The hair did not belong to the victim. One the color was
wrong.  In blood, dark hair was still dark hair,  but blonde hair
saturated the color into it's very fibers until you could barely see
it.  This hair was blonde.  The victim was brunette.  And two,  the
length was short by at least a meter.

 She held the strand of hair up with the tweezers in
triumph.  "About four centimeters, with the follicle still attached.
Forensics will love you for this."  She sealed it into the plastic
evidence bag.   Something about the hair bothered her.  It looked an
awful like LaCroix's.  Then again,  straight blond hair must take up
one fourth of Toronto's population.  She was being paranoid.  Hanging
around with vampires did that to a person.

 Schanke moved out of her way. "So, when's the wedding,  I
didn't receive an invitation?  I mean, you think you're his friend,
but when he wedding comes around, he doesn't even bother to send an
announcement."  Poor Schanke, he wasn't the only one who would never
understand.

 "We haven't set the date yet.  But, when we do, you'll be one
of the first to know."

 "Yeah.  Like I was the first to know about his resignation?
He never said a thing.  I heard it from Cohen."  The betrayal leaked
into his voice. Natalie cringed as a part of her died inside.  Oh,
Nick, what have you done?

 "I can't tell you how sorry I am for that Don.  Nick's never
been good at saying goodbye."  My that was the understatement of the
year.  She sent a silent prayer up for patience.  Nick owed her big
time for cleaning up his mess once again.

 "Don't apologize for him, Nat.  He's a big boy."  Schanke
collected his files from the desk and walked out.

        Lips parted in a silent plea to stop, Natalie stared after
him.  He deserved the truth.  But there were some truths that could
never be shared.  She'd seen him angry plenty of times, just never
like this.  Not this quiet defeat, and there wasn't a damn thing she
could do about it.

 "Well Ambria, see what men bring us?"  She scraped under the
victim's right index fingernail and added the results to a slide. "Is
it worth it?  They say `love makes the world go round',  but what
happens when it spins out of control?  When the centre cannot hold?"

 She peeked at the slide remembering one of the times she'd
spoken to a corpse and had it answer back.  "Not so bad really."  Ah,
if only she'd known.  How innocent, how naive.

 Just dirt, this killer left nothing here, no skin, no
blood.  "Things fall apart, Ambria.  You've met your second coming,
and it's not worth it."  So not worth it.  "What made you worthy of
his special treatment?  Did you promise the impossible, a cure for
his madness?"  She turned the light from the magnifying glass off and
stared into the darkness at the pale body of the young woman.  She
might have been pretty once, the gaping wound to the forehead ruined
that.

 Why had she been different from the others?  Strangulation
was the perps method,  but Ambria recieves a blow to the head with an
axe. Otherwise, the wrist abrasions, the torture marks all lined up.
Same guy, but the violence  had escalated.

 Grace chose that moment to pop in.  "Hi Nat.  Why are you
sitting here in the dark?  Everything okay?"  Her chocolate brown
eyes were the friendliest Natalie had seen all night.  There was no
blame in them, not for Nick leaving, and no condemnation for taking a
higher paying job.  Just concern, and true friendship reflected in
their depths.

 "I'll be alright Grace, the case is getting to me."  A safe
believable excuse.  How many of those had she given out this evening
alone?  Twenty? Thirty?  She'd lost count.

 "Cases never get to you, girl.  You cut up dead people every
night, I'm not buying it.  Now what's the real problem?"  Did she
mention true friend?

 Bless you Grace. "I'm going to miss you, and everything.  I'm
moving up, and getting the best detective in the world as a partner
for...eternity.  I should be happy."

  "About time you figured that out!  You make the
perfect couple. Enjoy your life, you deserve it.  Don't worry about
us."  Grace pulled her into a huge bear hug and Natalie let herself
enjoy the rare comfort.  "I'll miss you too, but we're just a phone
call away."

 "Thanks Grace, for everything."  She didn't want to let go.
There wouldn't be many hugs coming her way in the near future.
Reluctant, she dropped her hands away.

 "No problem.  How did he propose?  I want details! What did
he do? Did he go down on one knee?"  Grace sounded like a giddy
schoolgirl.  Natalie couldn't help laughing caught up in the
fantasy.  Now what embarrassing tidbits did she want to give to the
station.

 "Okay, hold on, let me put Ambria away and I'll tell you all
about it." Natalie slip the body back into the locker, while Grace
grabbed a chair.

 "It was done in true knight fashion.  He invited me to dinner
at the Azure.  We wined and dined for hours.  At the end he pledged
his undying love on bended knee.  Everything was fine til he broke
out the handcuffs."  Natalie smirked at the shocked expression of her
captive audience.

 "What?  Handcuffs in the middle of the restaurant?"

 "Yep."  Natalie strove to keep her face straight,
Nick was going to hate her if he ever got the nerve to show back up
here.  "He handcuffed and placed me under arrest right in the middle
of the room. Then, he started reading me a very unique version of my
rights!"  She paused, as though trying to remember his words.  Oh
man, was he ever going to hate her.  "You have the right to say yes,
any other answer will be held against you in my bed.  You have the
right to a priest or a judge.  If you cannot afford one,  they will
be appointed to you at my expense.  Natalie Lambert, will you marry
this poor excuse for a man?"   She turned her bright smile on Grace.
Just the facts ma'am, honest.

 "How romantic!  Oh wait until I tell everyone!  We have a
bachelorette party to get planned.  What do you think, friday is your
last day, so Saturday, and we'll combine it with a going away party?
Say yes, Nat, it will be perfect!"

 Natalie leaned back weighing her response.  LaCroix planned
on killing her Saturday night.  It was the last day of her
mortality.  Could they do it after the party?  Seize the day Nat, he
might not like it, but he didn't live this long without learning to
adapt.  "Yes,  invite everyone, even Don.  We can use the city hall
ballroom, and hire in the music and catering.  Nick will be happy to
pay for it."  Providing he hadn't put a stop on the credit card by
then.  If the resulting grin had traces of evil in it, Grace didn't
comment.

 "Great, I'll get right on it.  We're really going to miss you
Nat.  Now what kind of stripper do you want?  Wonder what the fee for
Mel Gibson is?"

 Natalie choked on that tempting suggestion,  was it even
possible?  "I doubt even Nick could book Mel Gibson on this short of
notice.  But it's a nice thought, isn't it?"  They both sat in happy
silence, consumed with their own images of those very nice strong
legs, and perfect drowning blue eyes, and large long...muscles,
yeah,  muscles.   Nat could almost smell the estrogen hanging in the
room.

 "Mmm."  Grace had a huge grin on her face.

 Nat was certain hers matched.  The vibrating in her pocket
made her jump,  until she realized what it was.  Pager, right, she
was wearing her pager.   She pulled it out, and read the
number.  "Got to go, Grace, work calls."

 Turning to the phone, she typed in the number to dispatch.
It was another body,  down at the water front, near the gardens.  A
mere block from her near fatal date, so long ago.

 She caught a ride in one of the squad cars, arriving to one
more taped off crime scene.  The fire truck was just pulling away, as
she stepped from the warm confines of the car.   Flashing police
lights cast  even more chaos onto the swarm of people.  She spotted
Don half way down the alley between the steel sides of the
warehouses.

 She pushed her way past the crowd of civilians and ducked
under the yellow tape.  Once past that barrier there was room to
breathe, providing one wanted to.  She crinkled her nose at the foul
odor of dead fish and urine.

 "Hey Schank."  She looked past him to the semi-nude body
sprawled face down across the pavement.  The curly mat of blond hair
tangled with the rough surface,  soaking up the liquid from the
puddle surrounding her head. Was it blood?  Kneeling down to check,
she was assualted by the acrid stench.

 "He peed on her?"  She looked at Don with disgust.

 "Yeah,  and a message on the wall over there too."  He
pointed further down the alley to where the photographers were having
a field day before the piss dried.  They must have missed him by less
than an hour this time.

 Some instinct made her glance up to the rooftop garden from
that ill fated date.  A flash of movement caught the corner of her
eye, as though somebody had stepped out of sight.  There was someone
up there, she was certain of it.  Who?  LaCroix?

 If it was him, he was growing careless.  But, no, she didn't
think so.  He would show himself, not slink in the shadows.  "We're
being watched, Schanke.  I think he's up there gloating."  Without
being obvious, she indicated the building.  If the killer really was
watching, she didn't want to give him warning.

 Donald didn't bother questioning her, he just whispered into
the radio on his shoulder.  Action happened fast after that.  At
least half the uniforms raced from the scene, some in cars, some
footing it.  All converging on the high rise.

 Sirens pierced the night.  So much for not giving warning.
There was no way they would be able to catch him now.  By the time
they got up there, he'd be long gone.  She heard Schanke swear and
echoed it.  Whoever did that was going to be busted to traffic, and a
detailed mandatory review of police procedure.

 She turned back to the body.  Gloves on, she lifted the wet
hair out of the way.  Sure enough, it was another strangulation.  The
hand marks were still red from the chaffing.  The skin under there
was still pliant, and luke warm.  Whoever discovered the body should
have started CPR.  She shook her head in frustration.  There might
have been a chance, but it was too late now.

 The rest of the body looked blue with cold.  Only a vinyl
jacket and a pair of knee high nylons seperated it from the
elements.  She used her pen to prod open the jacket pocket.
Amazingly, the wallet was still there.  She flipped it open, and
looked at the driver's license.

 "Schanke, victim is twenty nine year old Trisha Marks.  I put
the time of death at about midnight.  She was bound first, then
strangled.  I'll get the sexual assualt workup done at the lab, but
I'd put money down that she was raped, too."

 Nat tossed the wallet up to him and continued the preliminary
exam.  That's odd,  she double checked the ears again.  "Did anyone
find an earring?  She's missing one."

 "No."  Schanke squated down to take a closer look at the
small cross stud.  "Were any of the other victims wearing jewelry?"

 "No,  but they may have been.  Double check with the victim's
friends and families."  She could just imagine a little wooden box
out there with a morbid collection of trophys inside.  Shuddering,
she motioned to the lab assistants to bring over the body bag.  "What
was the message on the wall?"

 "It's odd, just four numbers.  1228.  Mean anything to you?"
 She froze.  Oh god.  How did they find out?  How much did they
know?  She had to warn Nick, and LaCroix.  The entire community was in
danger.  Oh god.  The ramifications hit her like a mack truck.  "I
gotta go, Schanke."

 "Hey!  Wait, they do mean something to you.  Nat!"  He chased
after her retreating back.  "Come on, talk to me!"

 "I have to call Nick.  Yes, it means something, but I need to
talk to him first."  She shouted it over her shoulder as she ran for
the cars.

 "I'm his partner, if you know who did this, tell me!"  His
breath came in hard gasps, as he stumbled to a halt.   She ducked
into a patrol car and took off.  "Fine don't.  Nick never did either."

End Chapter 4