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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

NED

"You have to tell Garrett" Scarlett insisted.

Ned looked up at her from the table, glancing around to make sure none of the other bar patrons were listening. "I'm not sure I should." Because that was what he'd torn himself apart over all night, even since he'd watched a confused Roscoe Burns drive away, uncertain why the police officer wasn't happy to have Xang Lan's identity. How could it be, he'd finally found a guy he liked, and then he learned that his boyfriend was Xang Lan's roommate? Garrett probably had no idea - he was only there part of the year, when he wasn't off filming in Egypt or Peru or Mexico - so perhaps Garrett's absence had made it easier for Olympia - Xang Lan - to conduct her evil business without detection. She'd only recently become the "Dragon Master," but to be respected enough to be chosen as leader, she had to have been a member for some time. And busy within it, no doubt. Hell, she probably actually_was_ guilty of the Harman murder, or at least was connected to it in some way. It would be too coincidental not for that to be the case.

Scarlett wrung her paws. "How is this even possible? I thought she was British?"

"Raised there, but adopted..." Plus all the time she'd spent in Thailand, he thought. Maybe that was where it had all begun.

"Oh. Probably adopted from China" Scarlett guessed. "Then when she grew up she used her Chinese ancestry and her father's power to..."

"Damn" Ned swore, feeling his nails digging into the wood of the table. "I was even starting to like her, even if she does always act like a fox. I mean, I thought she was a bit strange, and maybe more than just a college student. But a Mafia lord?"

Then again, perhaps he should have seen the signs. Olympia lived near Chinatown, in an oriental-style house, which was furnished with a lot of Asian-looking plants, Chinese silk curtains, dark foreign furniture, and had the look of someone who'd studied Feng sui, or some other such variety of new age mumbo jumbo. She'd been wearing kimonos around her house, and there were the Chinese swords above her sofa - which itself had some kind of Asian upholstery. So much for being a good detective, Ned thought. He hadn't seen what was under his very own nose.

"What's scary is that you sat and drank with her!" Scarlett shivered. "You ate dinner and drank wine with a mafia leader, who could have so easily poisoned you to get back at the police force."

Ned remembered the way Olympia had looked at him when he'd been taking in her house and how she'd calmly asked if he always treated every new location like a crime scene. She'd already been testing him, just assuring herself that he did not know her secret. "She didn't want me dead." If she and Garrett were truly best friends, Olympia wouldn't want to hurt him....right?

"You have to turn her in." Her voice was insistent, but Ned guessed from her expression that she already knew why that wasn't possible.

"It would hurt Garrett" he argued. "He'd be suspected as an accomplice."

"And what if he is?"

"He's a coyote. Not a species native to China."

Scarlett was clearly just as agitated as he was, her ears flicking all over the place, paw in a fist. "This is the Chinese Triad we're talking about, Ned! Didn't you hear what Arkady said this morning? Someone robbed a bank transport yesterday evening and made off with three-quarters of a million dollars! They're blaming the Triad."

Ned had heard, and had instantly thought of the way Olympia - and Garrett, too, for that matter - reacted to her wealth like it was something casual, expected. Wealth gained not from a generous father but from evil dealings in the crime world?

"Still. I can't risk hurting Garrett" he murmured quietly. "Just give me some more time to think about it."

And he did think about it; he had all night, and still was after lunch that afternoon when he and Scarlett had gathered with the others in front of the big whiteboard, looking at the various photos of victims and witnesses, and considering possible suspects. Tracking down Carlos Sanchez's whereabouts prior to his death had been fruitless; the fox hadn't been seen or heard from for almost 24 hours prior to his murder, and an examination of his home had suggested that he'd never returned there. Nor had his car yet been found.

"We've got our theory of a TMF member, but that's purely speculation" Arkady tapped the top category on the board. "Someone mentioned Dave Feeley, Marvin's brother, since he has a criminal record and was apparently estranged from Marvin - it's a long shot, but could turn up something?"

Ned shook his head. "Actually, Dave has a perfect alibi for why he couldn't have killed his brother." One clue he'd looked into that had actually turned up something, if entirely useless to the case.

"And that is?"

Ned grinned. "He's doing time in Wisconsin. He and a boyfriend tried sticking up a convenience store."

"Well." Arkady drew a line through Dave Feeley's name.

"How about Senator Johnson?" Scarlett ventured. "After all, it seems to be his ideology the Prophet is following. Or someone working for him."

"That's a very loose guess, but since we do have the quote by him on the crime scene, we'll add him here in the odd chance he was involved" he wrote Sen Johnson? next to the TMF category."

Montoya sort of raised a paw. "I hesitate to even mention this...but should we consider Holly Vaughn?"

Arkady looked thoughtful. "She has been at every crime scene since Wittmore's....usually one of the first to arrive...."

Ned had not considered the irritating marten as one of the possible suspects, but there were ways it checked out. "She also had a great deal of details in that article that she'd only have known if she was one of the people examining the body."

"....If we assume she's lying about speaking to an officer" Milo added. "But who would risk their tail by talking to media?" Next to him, Jason flinched. Jason? Ned wondered. When he thought about it, he could not put it past the cougar to speak to media, if he thought he'd gain something from it. Besides, he hadn't seen much of Jason lately...who knew what he had been up to?

"That is a different conversation" Arkady told them. "I'd say Miss Vaughn is an unlikely suspect, but just for kicks, Montoya, get us some background on her." He wrote Holly's name on the board with another question mark.

Scarlett must have been compiling a mental list of reasons for Holly's guilt because she spoke up eagerly, tail twitching. "Just imagine. She loves to get really great stories, right? What if she created the persona of a homophobic serial killer just to give herself something to make big bucks writing about?"

Arkady grinned. Strange, Ned thought. Arkady was a fox and yet when he smiled he looked less fox-like than Olympia did, and she wasn't even a fox. Then again, Arkady was perfect as an example of someone who'd broken out of the stereotypes associated with their species. "Maybe," the fox was saying. "She could have shot Fincher or Feeley or maybe even chopped Sanchez up with a machete, but I find it difficult to believe that little marten could drag Hugo Sota down into the surf. He was a big guy."

The coyote looked disappointed, but Arkady didn't dwell on the discrepancies of her theory, moving on to other theories. But that was the thing, right there. There were no plausible suggestions for the identity of their suspect; the Prophet remained as much of an enigma as Medea. Not once had any connection had been found between the victims, except for Fincher and Sanchez being husbands. "We're going with the theory that the victims are being picked one by one," Diego explained. "Every time the Prophet feels like killing someone, he picks a new person associated with the LGBT community and offs them."

"Rather than having each victim picked out beforehand" Ned added. "For example, Sanchez may have ended up on the kill list only because of that broadcast he gave the other night."

As usual, Lennox had remained silent while her division debated on suspects and motive. "Your job, then" she said, "is to figure out who his next victim is....and beat him to them."

If only it was that easy.

Ned got through most of the day before the team realised, collectively, that he'd be bringing a male date to the gala. "Common, man!" Montoya pleaded. "We only want to meet the guy that's won your heart, nothing more."

"And meet him you will" Ned retorted. He'd not called Garrett all day, although he'd discovered several missed calls on his own phone. The farther along the day went, though, the more he longed for that evening, when he and Garrett would be together in public for the first time. Somehow now that he knew Garrett lived with Xang Lan of the Triad, he felt a need to keep the coyote safe. Even if Olympia did genuinely care for Garrett, who was to stop a rival gang from attacking Olympia's home and injuring Garrett in the process?

Jason gave a low hiss. "Do you have to shove your sexuality in our faces, Ned?"

"Do you have a problem with my sexuality, Jason?" Ned asked pointedly.

"I do if you shove it in my face" the cougar answered hostilely. "It's bad enough that you were screwing your....boyfriend...in our office, but bringing him to a public event....a formal event..."

Ned laughed. "What're you worried about, Jason? You concerned I'll start humping him right in the middle of the waltzes? Worried you'll get something sticky on your suit? Cause I can totally put on a show if you want one."

Jason looked horrified. "No! I never said....you are disgusting, Ned. Disgusting and sick."

"What're you worried about, Jason?" Diego reached down and rubbed a paw over his crotch. "Worried if you see a couple of dudes together you'll start dreaming about dick?"

That really got Jason's attention, so his tail was thrashing around again like it always did when he was annoyed. "What? No...gross!" He turned tail and stomped out of the office, without even grabbing his coffee cup or his satchel.

"Two beers says he shows up without a date" Montoya grinned toothily.

"Make it three and you're on!" Diego's tail thwacked the back of his chair.

Ned turned to the two detectives and gave a half smile. "I suppose I should thank you two for being supportive."

"Don't mention it" Diego waved a paw. "Just what we'd do for any pal of ours."

"Anyway," Montoya offered, "no one at the gala will be paying you and your yote much attention anyway, because they'll all be staring at ME!"

"Oh, Montoya," Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "You're finally bringing that girlfriend of yours?"

"I was beginning to think she was a myth" Ned muttered sarcastically.

"Not a myth!" the jaguar insisted. "Oh, and you guys gotta hear what she did yesterday."

Ned and Scarlett and Diego exchanged a grin. "Ok, so what'd she do?"

Montoya was really grinning now; he really loved to tell stories. "Ok, so I was teasing her about her not really loving me, right? 'Prove it to me,' and all that. So jokingly, I told her I would never believe she loved me until she got my name dyed on her ass. I thought maybe I'd come home last night and find her naked at the door, just waiting for me to - Never thought she'd take it serious."

Ned realised he had forgotten about Olympia Rogan, alias Xang Lan, for the time being. But...to hell with it. Tonight was supposed to be a fun evening, and he wasn't about to let one evil bitch ruin it.

Montoya paused. "But you know what that silly cat did? She did it! She got my name done right across her ass, TULIO MONTOYA in big, perfect white letters."

Diego and Ned were roaring with laughter by that point, and Scarlett was shaking a finger at Montoya and trying not to do the same. "That is what they call too much information, Montoya. As I have told you before."

"Ha! But you laughed" he pointed out. And that was what it took. Sometimes in life it only takes a moment to look back on our past and find no issue with seeing the humour therein; because if one takes himself too seriously, he'll soon encounter trouble everywhere, but those who can laugh at themselves easily, will always find that life in turn flows easily for them.

The Eloquence Hotel was an enormous, glistening resort-like place in the glitzier part of town, shining like a casino in Vegas. Tall palm trees grew to either side of the entrance, at which a group of valets had gathered to offer car service to wealthier guests, a sign of how significant this affair would be with San Fernando's more well to do or powerful individuals. A number of vehicles were already gathering in its expansive parking lots when Ned arrived -he obviously was not important enough to warrant a valet - so many vehicles that he struggled to find a place to park.

Laughing guests in suits and ballgowns were already moving slowly through the parking lot and up to the main entrance, where a crowd was gathering as guests were carefully checked off the guest list, one by one. Ned found Scarlett there, fidgeting in a white gown while Nolan held her arm. Lennox was next to them, and fuming.

"Have you seen this yet?" the lieutenant growled lowly, so as not to be of notice to the guests moving past them. She was dressed in her lieutenant's uniform, an outfit she never wore except on special events, and held out a gaudy magazine. FABULOUS.

Ned saw the headline on the cover advertising grisly coverage of Carlos Sanchez's murder, but even that did not prepare him for the reality of the photos - one taken from near the back of the church, and several others closer up. The photos were brutal; horrifying, doing nothing to hide the horror of what they showed. There was a lot of text too, and as his eyes scanned it, Ned felt his hackles rising in anger. It was full of criticism and speculation, claiming that SF Metro was in over its head, unable to catch the Prophet, and saying that the author had "heard directly from a SF Metro officer" that SF Metro was chasing its own tail.

He didn't need to look at the author's name to know who had written this article.

"What I want to know is how this woman was able to get so many photos of the crime scene?" Lennox growled. "You two got in there before I did - how long between when the screaming started and when the last civilian was out?"

"A couple minutes maybe?" he shrugged. "That church was really long, and the victim was chopped up so much that you had to get at least halfway to the alter before the murder became really evident. A lot of folks were in there at first."

Scarlett's ears perked. "Holly was near the door before they opened it."

Lennox stepped out of the way to avoid a husky who growled at them to stop blocking traffic. "So Miss Vaughn gets in the door first, gets some nice shots, and runs out with everyone else."

"I have to admit, I paid zero attention to who was running out when Scarlett and I pressed in there." Was that a mistake, he wondered? The focus had been on what had horrified the mourners, not who exactly had seen the body.

"Nevertheless" Lennox said. "I think we need to have a word with Miss Vaughn. Her stalking of this case is going a little too far." Her voice wavered on the word "little."

"Damn right" Ned agreed, but the lieutenant must have spotted her husband because she whispered a goodbye and pushed away through the crowd, leaving Ned, Scarlett, and the ever-silent Nolan to get in line.

Lennox had taken the copy of FABULOUS with her, but Ned could still remember the clarity of Holly Vaughn's photos. If the Prophet was operating from a desire to spread fear, to make gay people live while wondering which of them would next end up on a list of ten commandments, then that was one thing....but was there a parallel with the article he'd just read? Holly had sugar-coated nothing; the violence had been displayed without censure. Showing the photos had been a move to create shock and to spread the terror of Carlos Sanchez's death.

In a way, Holly Vaughn worked to affect people the same way the Prophet did.

"Ned." Scarlett's voice was sharp.

As thoughts of the writer and her photos faded, Ned became aware that the conversation in the crowd of guests waiting to enter the hotel had quieted somewhat, and that heads had turned towards the place where the valets were taking the cars of prominent guests. Scarlett was looking that way, and as her eyes met Ned's, they were apprehensive.

He shoved past a lion couple and a badger to see what the crowd was looking at.

One of the valets, a bobcat, was opening the passenger door of a bright yellow Mustang convertible, allowing a stunningly beautiful white wolf to exit. On the other side, Garrett was walking around the front of the car, handing his keys to the valet, and then giving Olympia his arm as they begin to walk up the steps, in a flash of paparazzi cameras.

Xang Lan, an archenemy of the San Fernando's law enforcement, was attending the Mayor's gala, right under the police's nose.