Major Crimes 1. Chapter 1

**My latest entry into the popular 'This, Too, Was Supposed to Be A Oneshot' series. **

**A million thanks to Rosabelle for amazing title suggestion. You're the best ;).  
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**Danse Macabre**

"Candy corn? Mini Snickers bar?"

From his desk, Provenza shot a disgusted glare at the orange bag in Amy's hands, and grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"Jelly beans?"

Everyone else glanced in her direction as well, with varying degrees of amusement. The young detective shrugged an unrepentant shoulder, and smiled. "What? I heard the officers' kids will be around trick or treating tomorrow afternoon, I'd like to be prepared. Plus it's my first proper Halloween here."

Andy rolled his eyes, "You've been here three years."

"Yes – but I was on sick leave first year, so I wasn't actually _here-_here for Halloween." Recuperating from a dislocated jaw... _that_ had not been a fun Halloween. The extent of her celebrations had been having pumpkin goop through a straw. "And last year we were in the middle of searching for the letter writer. But _this_ time around, it should be a little more enjoyable, right?"

"Three large bags of candy certainly seem to be a step in that direction," Mike commented, without looking up from his computer.

"Oh – actually, I got four." Amy opened her bottom desk drawer and peered inside. "An extra bag just in case."

"For God's sake, Sykes," groaned Provenza, "this isn't kindergarten...!" He rolled his eyes and pulled his crossword puzzle even closer to his face.

"I don't think anyone's even gonna bring their kids all the way up here to the top floor," opined Andy. "Between Taylor and lieutenant killjoy over here," he smirked and nodded to his partner, "that's enough to scare them all off."

"I don't know," grinned Amy. "Kids like scary things on Halloween."

Andy snickered, while Mike and Julio smirked at their respective desks.

* * *

><p>Provenza hated the overly commercialized holidays that gave everyone an excuse to act like idiot twelve year-olds (not that some people, say, his partner Flynn, <em>needed<em> the excuse), and gave parents license to let their children run wild and unchecked on monstrous sugar highs, covered in make-up and glitter and hairs.

No, thank you very much.

He was definitely going to keep the madness out of the murder room. It was bad enough that he'd have to put up with Christmas decorations and _Jingle Bells_ in a month. Halloween wasn't on the table.

He glowered at the antics of his fellow detectives. "Don't any of you have some actual _work_ to do?" he demanded. "And – Buzz, for God's sake, do you _have_ to keep dragging these damn things in here?" The civilian had just entered the murder room pushing a large, _loud_, rolling cart, with a desk loaded on top. "It's the fifth one since this morning! What is this, Ikea?"

Buzz scowled in response. "It's not my fault – I think someone's trying to requisition some office furniture, but they must've put down the wrong room number. Surplus keeps delivering this stuff to Electronics, even though I told them three times that I didn't ask for any of it...!"

"Yes, fine, but why do you have to bring them _in here_?"

"I don't have space in Electronics for all of this!" defended Buzz. "I already got three extra chairs in there, and a _really_ _awful_ floor lamp. And no one's picking up down in storage – so until I can get a hold of someone to come take all this stuff back, it's got to go either here or in the hallway. And Chief Taylor said not to leave anything in the hallway," he added. "It's against building regulations."

With some difficulty, he maneuvered the hefty cart around two desks, looking completely at the end of his patience.

"Hey, would you look at that," Andy craned his neck, smiling. "It's one of the old desk models we used to have – remember? Back at Parker Center." He tapped a hand on top of the desk, nostalgically, as Buzz wheeled it by. "I thought they auctioned all of these off."

"I wish they _had_," muttered Buzz.

"Didn't you buy yours, Sir?" Julio asked Provenza. The lieutenant only _mmm-_ed in response, without bothering to look up from his newspaper.

"Well, whatever they didn't auction must've gone into Surplus," said Buzz. "And now they're bringing it all up to Electronics!" He let out an exasperated sigh as he finally stopped the cart by far wall, where he'd already left two small file cabinets and an old armchair earlier. For a few seconds, he struggled to get a grip on the too-wide desk. "Can someone help me unload this, _please_?"

As Julio pushed his chair back and got up to help, the lights flickered for a few seconds, then dimmed somewhat in intensity.

Buzz's shoulders slumped. "I thought they fixed that. This has been messing with my screens all day."

"Looks like they're still having some trouble with the electric panels in the basement," hummed Mike. "We've been getting power fluctuations all day in here, too. Probably those new generators they've been testing..."

Another unsteady flicker, before the lights returned to their previous brightness. Andy tipped his chair back a little to look at the ceiling, and shrugged.

"Light show like this, we could give the officers' kids quite the trick or treating tour," smiled Amy.

Flynn chuckled, "Yeah...trust me, they're gonna prefer the cand–"

"No – Buzz, grab the other side – hold on!" Julio took a hurried step back, the edges of the desk slipping slightly from his grip. Buzz stumbled backwards as well, thrown off-balance as the cart shifted and caused the bulky desk to tilt. He jumped out of the way just in time to avoid one heavy metal leg landing right on his foot; instead, the desk pitched unevenly off the cart, Julio eventually letting go of his end and allowing it to follow the rest of the desk. The desk made a loud metallic bang as it clattered against the floor, two drawers sliding open in the process –

"Oh my God...!" Buzz jumped back again, even further this time.

The desk rested crookedly against the wall, silent and motionless.

* * *

><p>Buzz stared at the bottom drawer that had slid open, his eyes wide and mouth half-gaping in disbelief. He exchanged a quick look with Julio, who was watching the same spot with a bemused expression.<p>

"Sirs. You should take a look at this."

The rest of the team – even Provenza, who put away his newspaper with great reluctance – flocked around the desk.

Heads tilted. Brows furrowed.

Eventually Andy raised his eyebrows. "Okay. This is weird."

His partner was still staring silently at the contents of the open bottom drawer.

"Is it even real...?" asked Amy, squinting.

Julio peered a little closer, then used the tip of his shoe to poke at the contents. "Looks real."

Another moment of silence.

"So... what do we do with it?" Amy wasn't sure what the procedure was, here. "Should we get Captain Raydor from her meeting with the Chief?"

Provenza groaned. "Somehow, Sykes, I doubt she'll be in any hurry to find out about this."

No one could disagree. Mike had grabbed a pair of gloves, and after a few seconds of poking and examination, he nodded. "Definitely real."

Provenza let out a long sigh. "Of course it is." He scratched his neck, and stared into the drawer again. "Let the Captain finish her meeting...If we're _lucky_, maybe this will turn back into a pumpkin by the time she's back." A moment later, he turned to glare at Buzz. "I _told_ you to take this desk elsewhere."

* * *

><p>Sharon lips were pressed into a flat line, but other than that she wore her most composed expression. Arms crossed, she stood behind her desk and stared at the three men in front of her, eyes moving from one to the other as she tried to process what she was hearing.<p>

"A body. In a desk drawer."

"Well... a skeleton, if we want to be precise," said Provenza, "...but ah, yes." He cleared his throat under her gaze. "I'm afraid so, Captain."

Sharon surveyed all three of them again. Were they trying to run some sort of elaborate prank on her?

"Very 'spirit of the holiday', if you will," added Provenza.

She narrowed her eyes to indicate that she was not amused. The lieutenant shrugged, as if to say, 'what else are we supposed to do but laugh about it?', it was so absurd.

"And how did this … skeleton," she kept her tone completely blank, "end up in a drawer, inside an _LAPD desk_, in the murder room?"

More silence greeted her question.

Her glare landed on Flynn and Provenza. "_Lieutenants_."

"Oh, hey, don't look at us, this time," Andy hurried to assure her. "It was Buzz's desk."

"_What – I_ didn't put the skeleton in there!"

Sharon pursed her lips.

"We're still...looking into how our Jack-in-the-box might have ended up in that drawer," Provenza said diplomatically. "Mike cleaned out the other drawers, and we sent the desk to SID."

She still couldn't quite get over the drawer thing.

"Do we know whose body it is? Whose – remains," she corrected, because okay, it wasn't a _body,_ but she was also definitely going to stop using the word 'skeleton'.

"Ah... not yet, no, _but_ – " Provenza offered at her displeased look, "we're definitely looking into _that_, too."

"For what it's worth, it's probably not gonna end up being a Major Crime," said Andy. "I mean, Mike thinks the bones looked pretty old, so... cold case, maybe? ...Mislabeled evidence?"

Sharon's eyes narrowed again. "Lieutenant Flynn, when unidentified human remains are discovered _in the middle of my murder room_," she enunciated, "it's a Major Crime."

Andy gave a lopsided nod, "Okay, yeah. Good point, you're right."

Provenza rolled his eyes.

"The bones are with Dr. Morales now, I assume?" asked Sharon, and the older lieutenant nodded.

"We asked him to take a look, yes."

She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. After a testing meeting with Taylor on the issues of budget and overtime and their often conflicting notions on how to lead her division, she'd hoped for a peaceful end of the afternoon. A hope quickly dashed when she'd returned to her office to find Flynn and Provenza waiting for her with their 'there's an explanation' faces.

And a skeleton in a desk drawer.

How did a skeleton even _fit_ in a desk drawer...?

She quickly cut off the visual mental exercise. That really wasn't the image she wanted in her head for the rest of the day.

Right, then.

"While Dr. Morales examines the remains," she sighed, "let's track where the desk came from before it ended up in Surplus. And any clues as to the identity of the … victim."

* * *

><p>"Unfortunately, we still don't know who the desk belonged to before it went to Surplus, and they didn't exactly keep detailed records of what was left over from the move from Parker Center." Lt. Tao gave a doubtful half-shrug, "They faxed us their inventory lists, so maybe we'll find something useful in here, but it's a long shot. SID is also looking for prints, but any prints that got on the desk before it went into storage might've degraded by now... so again, long shot."<p>

Sharon crossed her arms, leaning slightly against Andy's desk as she listened. "What about the contents of the other drawers?"

"Uhm... that's where things get a little...weird."

Having helped clear the drawers, earlier, Julio now failed to properly suppress a grin. "Yeah they do."

"You mean, weirder than the human skeleton we _already_ found? 'cause you'd think that'd be a tough one to beat." Andy's smirk earned him a dry sideglance from Sharon, which did not deter him much in his amusement.

"Wait, so that actually _happened_?" Rusty walked into the murder room, his expression suddenly enthusiastic when he caught the lieutenant's words. "I thought the officers downstairs were like, trying to prank me or something. You guys actually found a skeleton in Buzz's desk?"

("_It wasn't my desk!_" came the annoyed protest from electronics.)

Sharon frowned, head tilting slightly as she turned to Rusty. "They're talking about this downstairs...?"

"Oh yeah," he confirmed, "everyone's talking about it. So... I'm guessing you're not ready to go to dinner yet?"

She checked her watch, and sighed. "I'm afraid not. If you don't mind waiting around, we might still be able to work something out in an hour or so...but you can go home if – "

"I'll wait," said the boy, sounding entirely too eager about it. He glanced to the photos on the murder board, then to Lt. Tao, "So who's the skeleton?"

Sharon let out a long-suffering breath.

"We don't know yet," said Mike. "We're in the process of finding out who used to sit at the desk, back before we moved headquarters."

With an absent hand wave, Sharon motioned Rusty in the direction of his cubicle, the she turned back toward Tao. "You were saying something about the contents of the other drawers, lieutenant?"

"Uh, yeah. Well – other than...you know, the body..."

"We're calling it Jack," Flynn interjected.

Amy grinned, "Nice. As in, 'in the box', or the pumpkin king?"

"Either one."

"_Thank_ you, Andy," drawled Sharon with another side-eye look. "Mike, go on please."

"Right – other than "Jack", there were a few more things in the desk. No files or documents that might help us identify who sat there, but we did find a USB drive wedged at the back of one of the drawers. Buzz is working to salvage whatever might be on it right now."

Sharon nodded silently. A USB drive sounded promising enough. "What else?"

Mike exchanged a glance with Julio, who was grinning fully now. "Er...well, there was a horseshoe taped to the bottom of the desk..."

Sharon blinked.

"A _horseshoe_," she repeated slowly.

"...yeah." The lieutenant held up an evidence bag containing said horseshoe, and passed it to her. The thing looked old, muddy and corroded. "I warned you, it gets a little weird..."

"Did you say that this was _taped_ underneath the desk?"

"Yes. I sent the tape to SID in case it had any usable prints. And in one of the other drawers, we _also_ found...these." He handed her two more small evidence bags.

They did nothing to resolve Sharon's growing bafflement. Placing the horseshoe down on Andy's desk, she glanced between the two new bags. "Is this..."

"A really old garlic bulb, Ma'am," said Julio. "And the other stuff's weed."

"Not exactly weed – it's rosemary," Mike offered.

At his desk, Provenza lowered his forehead into both hands and groaned.

"Okay, this is like, the best case you guys ever had," said Rusty from the other side of the room.

"No it's _not_," grumbled Buzz, emerging behind him from Electronics.

The lights flickered again, and the door to Electronics swung closed with a mournful, prolonged creak.

* * *

><p><strong>Will endeavor to post all of this by Halloween - although my work week is promising to be (topically) HELLISH, so the posting might stretch into the weekend. Thanks for reading :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Slightly delayed updating schedule due to slightly inhuman pile of work. What is sleep? What is free time? But thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter :) you guys absolutely motivated me to edit chapter two when face-planting on the sofa for a prolonged nap was so very tempting. **

**Danse Macabre, pt. 2**

"Okay – first you should know that bare, old bones aren't exactly my specialty," said Dr. Morales per way of greeting. "Usually the bodies I get in here have actual...you know, _bodies_." He paused, then added, "And usually those bodies aren't discovered inside LAPD desks."

Sharon dipped her head. Major Crimes wasn't going to live this one down for a while.

"Yes, well... why don't we get on with this, shall we." Provenza sounded as disgruntled as she felt.

"Alright. Well... like I said, I kind of need internal organs to make exact pronouncements, but,_" _Morales stepped closer to the autopsy table where the remains were laid out,_"_after putting the bones together – which by the way, took me a lot longer than it used to in med school – I _can_ tell you a few things. First, your Jack-in-the-box is a Jill."

"Female...?" murmured Sharon. She and Provenza exchanged a brief glance as they processed the new information, then they both turned their attention to the doctor again.

"That's right." Morales pointed a gloved finger to the dark-colored pelvic bone. "_That_ I can say for sure. She's also definitely an adult – wisdom teeth are present, pelvis and sternum look fully fused and there are no visible cranial sutures. Epiphyses of the humerus, radius, ulna, femur and tibia are all fully fused as well." He pointed to the x-rays hanging on the light panel as he spoke, waving to a series of long bones with bright white lines near the ends. Then he turned back to the remains on the table. "I'd go so far as to say she was at least...forty, maybe," he nodded, "and possibly older, based on the amount of visible arthritis. Probably less than seventy."

"A thirty year window doesn't exactly help our missing persons database search," said Provenza. "Can we get a little more specific here, doctor...?"

"We _can_ – once I've had time to look at bone cross-sections, and examine a pile of reference manuals." He arched his eyebrows at the lieutenant. "Remember, you sent her down here less than two hours ago, and there was some assembly required. I'll have more to tell you later."

Sharon sighed, looking down at the bones on the autopsy table again. "In the meantime, is there anything else that could help us narrow down the search for her identity?"

Morales surveyed the remains too, with a critical look. "Hm – I sent Lt. Tao the dental records almost as soon as I got the bones, but since you still don't know who she is, I assume they didn't help much."

Sharon shook her head. "Not yet."

"Okay...Based on the condition of the bones, she's been dead at least a few years. She's had some dental work done, with – as far as I can tell without in-depth analysis – what looks like silver amalgam fillings. They're not used as frequently these days, which _again_ makes me think she had this done at least a decade or two ago. Maybe longer. Or maybe in another country...Sorry," (as Provenza groaned) "there's no tissue and barely any trace evidence on the bones, so there's not a lot to go on. There _are_ a couple of weird things though..."

The lieutenant took a step closer, leaning over slightly when Morales pointed to the top of the shoulder bones.

"There seem to be some sort of scraping marks on some of the bones... like here, at the top of the humerus, for example. Given how many there are and their irregular shape, I suspect this might have more to do with the way the bones were stored. But I'm not sure, so I'll take a closer look and see if it's anything we can use." His hand moved to point below the sternum. "Another thing: the second and third ribs are seriously damaged compared to the rest of the bones. See here, these chips and fractures? They _could_ indicate an injury that caused death. But without more time to look into it, I can't say for sure."

Provenza sighed. "So we have a long-dead female, forty to seventy, who may or may not have had a lethal chest injury, and whose skeleton was stuffed into a desk drawer for god knows how long."

"Along with garlic, rosemary and a horseshoe," added Sharon.

"Happy Halloween," said Morales.

The three of them exchanged wry looks.

"I _hate_ Halloween," Provenza informed them.

The lights above flickered almost pointedly.

* * *

><p>"So...who do we think this guy is?" Back in the murder room, Amy had paused in her browsing of the Surplus inventory list to glance again to the board. Beneath the black-marker heading "Jack-in-the-box" sat two photos of the skeleton, showing it just the way they'd found it, in an old box in the drawer. The garlic and rosemary bags were pinned next to it; the horseshoe had gone down to SID for printing. "Any ideas?"<p>

"None _yet..." _Lt. Tao was browsing three databases in parallel on his computer, while also sporadically working with Buzz at the next desk. "Still no matches on the dental records, and I'm not making much progress trying to figure out who sat at that desk...I'd say we're stuck with guessing for now – at least until the Captain and Provenza come back from the morgue with more details."

"I'm still grabbing the data from the USB we found," Buzz put in. "It looks like a bunch of video files so far... I'll start opening them and see if they can tell us anything." He plugged a set of earbuds into the computer, and placed one in his ear.

"I'm going with mislabeled evidence," said Andy. "Come on – how else would this poor bastard end up in some officer's desk?"

"Except, we don't usually store _human remains_ in evidence boxes," Tao pointed out. "Let alone in our desk drawers. We're still waiting on confirmation from downstairs, but I'm pretty sure "Jack" here was never entered into evidence. _I_," he declared,"smell foul play."

"Maybe supernatural foul play?" grinned Amy. "We did find this right before Halloween."

A warning rumble from the doorway heralded Provenza's return to the murder room.

"Nah. Lt. Flynn's right," said Julio. "Something must've gotten mixed up when we made the move from Parker Center."

Andy turned to his partner, who was scowling his way across the room. "What did Morales say?"

"'Happy Halloween'," quoted Provenza, eyebrows quirking wryly. He walked over to Mike's desk and handed him the few notes he'd taken during the conversation with the ME. "He _also_ said," he added with a pointed look at the next desk, "that Buzz should cart his excess furniture off to Robbery-Homicide next time."

One earbud still securely in his ear, Buzz rolled his eyes. "I _said _I was sorry..."

"This isn't a _lot_ to go on..." Tao commented, once he'd finished browsing the doctor's preliminary conclusions. "But I'll put add it to the missing persons query. See if anything pops up... at the very least it might speed up the dental records search."

"It better," grumbled Provenza "Rumor of this damn thing's reached _Alaska_ by now – if we don't get an ID soon, I'll have to _shoot_ the next idiot who asks me about it in the elevator."

"Maybe it's the owner of the desk," suggested Amy.

The lieutenant directed a pointed look her way: "And she, what, decided to _crawl_ into the bottom drawer and _die_? Sykes."

Amy thought for a moment, then, with lopsided nod, offered: "Maybe she just _really_ didn't want to retire."

As everyone did a terrible job hiding their snickers, Provenza found it appropriate to shoot them all his best withering glare.

"Oh, god..." Buzz suddenly grimaced at his computer. A few moments later, he looked up from his desk to find everyone's eyes on him. "I swear, this is just getting worse."

* * *

><p>"I've managed to recover part of the contents of the USB drive we found." Buzz put his laptop down on the desk, and looked around for the projector cable. "It's not everything yet, the recovery software is still running... but I doubt the rest of the files will be be very different."<p>

"Different from what?" Tao handed him the end of the cable, and Buzz continued his explanation as he plugged it in:

"The drive contains a bunch of short videos. Probably filmed on older smartphones or digital cameras, judging from the format and quality. Most of them are just a few seconds long, and _really_ badly made – it's impossible to even tell what they're supposed to show. But I found a, uh, slightly longer one..." He hit a few keys on the laptop, and cleared his throat. "It's sort of weird, though."

"Oh, good," muttered Provenza, "everything _else_ about this case was boringly normal."

With a silent sigh, Sharon crossed her arms. After yet another frustrating (though mercifully short) briefing with Taylor, she was feeling more than a little fraught. "What exactly is it that makes the video weird, Buzz?"

"Well...for one, it seems to be a montage of different, shorter videos... and uh, well... it's kinda... creepy. I'll just play it," he decided, "you'll see what I mean."

She nodded her approval, and turned slightly to face the projector screen. Julio walked over to dim the lights, while Buzz clicked on the recovered video file, and winced in anticipation. "Uh, don't say I didn't warn you," he murmured a little warily.

For the first few moments, the screen was blank. Then that shifted into a slightly lighter-colored, gray, indistinct image, that was only recognizable as an actual video because the camera shook unsteadily up and down, as though whoever held it hadn't been able to hold it properly.

The words 'March 2008' floated briefly in the top corner, in grainy white font.

"_It's here, dude. I swear._"

"_Dude, like, we're not supposed to be here – that park ranger's gonna have our asses_."

"_Park's public property, whatever – besides, if we don't get a better look at this thing _– "

"_Shh! Did you hear that?_"

The only sound that came from the speakers was a pronounced static crackle, along with the usual sound of breathing and shuffling bodies.

"I didn't hear anything," said Amy.

Sharon shook her head – she hadn't, either. She squinted at the screen, trying to make out what was happening, but it was too dark to see much else except some jagged tree branches, an elbow and the glare of a flashlight.

"_...do you think it can hear us...?_" This time, the voice had lowered to a hoarse, excited whisper.

Provenza rubbed an exasperated hand to his face. "Good gods."

"_Dude, no, I think it's over there..._" More whispering.

"_Where...?_"

"_Shh!_"

The camera turned a little.

"Anyone else feel like we should have popcorn?" Andy's lips were twitching.

"I think they're gonna get eaten alive. Buzz, do they get eaten alive?" Julio caught Sharon's warning glare and managed a "Sorry, Ma'am." with a mostly straight face.

The only thing that had happened on screen was that the flashlight glare had moved to the opposite corner, and there were some new branches in the grey picture. Then, suddenly, the camera jolted, and a chorus of shrill screams erupting from the speakers. Sharon grimaced at the jarring noise, and did all she could to suppress an eye roll. The image on the screen shook for another second or two, then cut to black again.

She turned a questioning look to Buzz.

"Uh, there's more..." he told her.

"Do we find out what killed those two guys?" asked Julio.

"_Detective_."

"This is like, seriously awesome," said Rusty from behind. "How come you don't get cases like this more often?"

Sharon turned around at the comment, one finger coming up to point menacingly at her foster son. "_You_," she informed him, "are supposed to be waiting in your _cubicle_."

"Yeah but like, come on, Sharon... you're solving the Blair Witch Project! I have to see this!"

She blinked. "The what?"

Rusty stared back for a moment...then he let out a long-suffering sigh, "_Seriously_?"

"There's the next part," Amy chimed in, drawing their attention back to the screen.

* * *

><p>It was easy to tell what Buzz had meant by "montage of different shorts" – this video had a different resolution from the previous one, and had quite evidently been shot at a different time of day.<p>

The words "December 2007" floated briefly on the backdrop of an orange twilight sky. When it faded away, the picture didn't change; again, only the slight movements of the camera indicated that this was an ongoing film.

"_Do you really think it'll show up again?_" It was a different voice, too, this one a woman. "_Hank, come on, it was just a satellite._"

"_It wasn't a satellite!_"

The camera rotated slightly, panning to a different section of the sky. Somewhere to the far left they could see the bright copper light of the setting sun. Then the camera moved again, this time to capture a few rays of light glinting off something in the distance. "_There, see? Do you see that over there?_" The image zoomed in on what might have been the red tail lights of an airplane behind some clouds. They blinked a few times, until finally they disappeared. "_I told you! Did you see that, Dee?!_"

"_Fine. Great – now can we go back to our picnic please? It's supposed to be our anniversary!_"

Andy snorted, and the scene faded to black a few seconds later.

The next part was a forty-six second continuous shot of a dreamcatcher hanging in the doorway of what looked like a small homeopathy shop. This was labeled "May 2008".

Then there was another shaky-camera segment, "June 2007", which looked pretty much identical to the first, from the young-and-likely-intoxicated voices, to the poor night-time image, the static, the wind and the tree branches. This one, too, zoomed on a blurry shape in the distance before ending in a flurry of movement and a chorus of high-pitched, enthusiastic screams.

"Alright, Buzz," sighed Sharon when the screaming finally cut off. "I think we get the picture."

At his desk, Provenza scoffed his agreement.

"I think you'll definitely want to see the next one, though," warned the civilian, and he nodded toward the screen. "It's the last segment."

Everyone turned to watch, again.

Another "May 2008". This time, surprisingly, the camera image was more clear, there was plenty of light, and not a single tree branch in sight. In fact, the scene seemed to have been shot indoors: the screen showed an old wooden floor, and in the top right corner was something that might have been the foot of a couch or armchair.

The camera moved up, and they could see pages from a newspaper spread out to cover the floor, and on top of the paper...

"Is that our "Jack"? Sorry, "Jill"?" Mike leaned forward, trying to get a better look. Sure enough, a very recognizable human skeleton was laid out on top of the newspaper pages.

"Looks like it," said Andy, while Sharon, who had also leaned forward to study the image closer, nodded slowly:

"It does."

A male voice came from the speakers. "_This is Sergeant Mike Har – that is, Sergeant Michael E. Hartley,_" (Sharon met Lt. Tao's eyes briefly, and he nodded and pulled up his keyboard to search for the name), "_and I am examining a suspected...that is, uh... the body... uh, remains...of..._" He cleared his throat, "_I am examining the remains of a suspected therianthrope... most likely of the lycos variety...possibly the first specimen of its kind to ever be studied... Please notice that the bones are in excellent condition...the body – uh, that is, the lycanthrope..._"

Sharon turned to Buzz. "Did he just say, 'lycanthrope'?"

The blond nodded grimly. "He did."

Rusty was staring at the screen in utter fascination.

* * *

><p>"<em>The body has been brought to my attention by two unidentified sources... but very reliable sources, who have proven both cooperative and informative... though they wish to remain anonymous for the moment... their contributions to the search for the truth will earn them a place in history...<em>" The self-declared Sergeant Michael E. Hartley recited the words somewhat absently, as the camera moved up and down to examine the skeleton from different angles. "_So far, I've been able to ascertain that the remains are female... uh, and they look almost human, it's fascinating..._"

"_Almost_ human?" repeated Sharon incredulously.

Provenza turned his chair around, to catch her gaze. "It would seem that Dr. Morales failed to inform us that we're dealing with the undead, here."

"Technically," Sykes corrected, "lycanthropes aren't undead. That would be vampires."

Both the lieutenant and Sharon gave her a long look, and she shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat. "...except none of those two things actually exist, of course, so that's not relevant. Never mind."

"Well, actually, clinical lycanthropy _is_ a real medical condition," Tao put in, "as is a disease called hypertrichosis, sometimes known as 'werewolf syndrome', so _technically_ – "

"For God's sake, Tao, don't _encourage_ her," complained Provenza, exasperated.

Sharon held up a hand, silencing all of them so they could continue to listen to the man in the video, who had started speaking again. The image still showed the skeleton.

"._..first thing to do, of course, is analyze the chemical composition of the bones... no X-Ray materials available at the current location... hmm, I will have to devise a solution to that, after this initial examination is completed. For now, I will start with samples of bone and cartilage... in fact, before that, I should take exact measurements of each bone. The proportions, though nearly human, appear to deviate from standard measures just enough to constitute undeniable evidence..._"

The image jolted slightly, and on the next frame it became evident that recording had been briefly paused, as the camera was now in a different position. A hand holding a measuring tape was visible in one corner.

"_Measurements have been recorded... next step, the chemical analysis. Aside from any differences from human molecular structure, this might tell us the age of the specimen... Oh –_ " The camera jolted again, as a loud buzz that sounded a lot like a doorbell could be heard in the background. "_Uh...just a minute, please...!_"

The screen cut to black.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then –

"Wait, that's it? It was just getting to the good part!"

Sharon turned around again, and narrowed her eyes at Rusty. "Cubicle, or home, young man," she instructed. "Now. Ah – " she held up a finger to prevent any protesting, "_now_, Rusty."

With the world's longest, unhappiest sigh, the boy retreated down the short hallway to the supercubicle.

"Well," said Provenza, as Julio turned the lights back on. "I suppose we can guess whose _desk_ that was, now."

* * *

><p>"Michael E. Hartley." Tao turned his screen around to give them a better look at the personnel file he'd pulled up. "Thirty-eight, no criminal record. Joined the LAPD in 2000, after getting his degree in Biochemistry at USC. After the academy and a year on patrol...wait, actually, he did eighteen months on patrol... then he joined IAS for a couple of years... got his promotion to sergeant and transferred to SID in 2006. He retired in 2008 for medical reasons. A doctor...O'Dell signed off on it."<p>

"One of the Behavioral Science psychiatrists," said Provenza. "What a surprise."

Mike grimaced as he read more. "Apparently in his last year here, Hartley made... _eight_ requests to be transferred back to Investigative Analysis, where he wanted to start a paranormal investigation team."

Andy grinned. "What do you know. The guy behind our mystery body is Fox Mulder."

"Or Van Helsing," countered Amy.

"_Van Helsing hunted vampires, not werewolves!_" came Rusty's voice from the far end of the room.

Sharon missed Amy and Tao's debate on whether that was true or not, as she pondered exactly how much time Rusty spent watching movies on his laptop. How many movies had he _seen_ over the last three years, exactly?!

Sighing, she shook her head, and abandoned that gloomy train of thought. "Do we have a current address for Mr. Hartley?"

"_Narnia_, perhaps?" suggested Provenza.

Mike checked the file again, and pulled the driver's license number to run it through the DMV database. "One second... "

"You know," Flynn said while they waited, a thoughtful frown on his face, "that video tells us that this Hartley guy had the skeleton before it ended up in the desk, yeah... but he didn't seem to be the killer. He said he got the bones from someone else."

"Two unidentified sources," provided Buzz, who had watched the video twice.

"Yeah... so, who killed "Jill" in the first place?"

Sharon let her chin fall to her chest, as she pondered the same question. "We'll need more information about her before we can answer that," she said eventually. "There's no indication yet that anyone did kill her. So, while Dr. Morales does a more in-depth examination into the cause of death, let's talk to Mr. Hartley and see what he can tell us."

"His current address is in Huntingon Park, off Santa Fe avenue," Tao spoke up again. "Looks like his parents left him their house there. No one else listed at the same address, so he probably lives alone... Work address is listed as a storage facility in Compton, where he works the day shift as a security guard."

Another nod. "Alright." Sharon cast a quick glance at her watch. "It's almost seven o'clock now, so he should be at home, we'll try that first. Mike – can you please check with SID and see if they can confirm that those partial prints on the duct-tape belong to Michael Hartley? Andy, please contact his former commanding officers in SID _and_ IAS, and see if they can shed some light on his … behavior." She sighed again, and ran further down her mental checklist. "Amy, please contact Dr. O'Dell and do the same. It's likely that she won't share confidential medical information without a warrant, but I want us to talk to her anyway... and Buzz, please look through the rest of the videos you recover from the USB drive. There might be something else relevant on there."

He nodded. "Hopefully not any more dead bodies..."

One could only hope.

"Lieutenant Provenza, Detective Sanchez – we'll go pay a home visit to Mr. Hartley," she finished.

"You're going to arrest Hartley in person?" Andy's frown revealed his confusion – and he wasn't the only one who looked a little surprised.

"We're not _going_ to arrest him," Sharon corrected. This was precisely why she'd decided to go, herself. "Whatever else, Michael Hartley is a retired LAPD sergeant with a clean record, and there's absolutely _no_ evidence yet that he's done anything wrong. So we're going to _talk_ to him, and ask him to accompany us, voluntarily. That's all." And her presence would prevent any potential political messes and accusations down the line.

Besides, even if Hartley was a little...unstable, between Provenza, Julio and herself, they should be able to handle him. There was no reason for concern.

* * *

><p>Sharon held on to that conviction until precisely twenty-three minutes later, when a strange object came flying through the dirty window of the former sergeant's house, and headed straight for the three of them.<p>

"Fire bomb!" shouted Julio – and she felt him grab her and forcefully pull her off the porch, and they both hit the ground a few steps later, bodies tensing in anticipation... at which point she admitted that there _may_ in fact have been some reason for concern, but it was too late to do anything about it anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you all for reading! I'm aiming for another chapter tomorrow, and this is a four-chapter deal, so... we're still more or less on schedule. Or ...near schedule. In the general vicinity of schedule. <strong>Happy Halloween ;)!<strong>  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Danse Macabre, pt. 3**

Some houses on the street were decorated for Halloween, but Sergeant Michael Hartley's wasn't one of them. Instead, the place came by its creepy, haunted looks naturally. The weed-infested front lawn complemented the dilapidated exterior walls where the brown paint had chipped in strange shapes, and there was nothing fake about the spiderwebs in the corners of the porch, or the grime trailing down the windows.

In the reddish light of sunset, the house looked anything but inviting. A crow with ruffled feathers cawed mournfully at them from the top of a nearby tree when they approached.

Provenza rolled his eyes, but made his way across the rundown cobblestone path with no comment.

As they climbed the three creaky wooden steps to the front porch, Sharon stumbled abruptly. She grabbed on to Julio's arm for support.

"Ma'am?"

She frowned, glancing down. "It's alright – I think... my shoe, it's caught on something." She pulled her leg up again, and gave an awkward little laugh as that didn't free her. "The planks are spaced a little too far apart. I must've stepped between two of them."

Julio looked stoic. "Yes Ma'am."

Provenza aimed a pointed look at her shoes, rolled his eyes again, but waited without comment.

Trying to pry her heel loose from the rotted wood failed a second time, and then a third. Irritated, Sharon scowled at the steps. Damn it! Left with no alternative, she gripped Sanchez's arm tighter for better leverage, and smiled up at him a little apologetically. "Excuse me, detective."

While she kept trying to free herself, Provenza pushed with the tip of his shoe at some of the weeds and dust that covered the porch. "What the... is this _writing_?" From the end of the porch, down to the rickety planks that had trapped Sharon's heel, there seemed to be some sort of elaborate drawings done in dark red paint.

At least, he hoped it was paint.

"Looks like some sort of symbols." Julio had swept some of the dirt away with his right foot, to reveal more of the same. "I've never seen them before."

The lieutenant sighed, staring at the odd shapes and lines. "Where's Tao when you need him?"

Finally, Sharon abandoned the battle and bent down at the knees, manually grabbing her heel to pull it out – which felt every bit as embarrassing as it sounded and she had to weather it with her best composed expression. "Ah." Her shoe finally free from between the creaky planks, she straightened and carefully tested her weight on the next step to avoid a repeat. "Alright, let's – "

Abruptly, something came flying out the nearest window.

It landed a few feet away on the porch with a soft thump, and a strange, low hissing noise filled the air. For one moment, the three of them stared with some confusion at the small pouch-like object, with a string coming out the –

"Fire bomb!" yelled Julio. He grabbed Sharon and nearly lifted her off in his hurry to backpedal off the porch; a few steps later they both hit the ground, with him on top of her, their bodies tensing in anticipation of the blast, counting the seconds...

...and counting...

...and counting...

…and...

...nothing.

The silence became disconcerting. After a little while Julio shifted a little, and Sharon could feel him turning to look over at the house. He pushed down on her shoulder slightly when she moved to do the same, signaling her to stay put – but after another few seconds she shifted as well, lifting her head off the ground.

Provenza was crouched a few yards away, and was just beginning to get his bearings again, as well. The strange pouch was still where it had landed, on the porch, the little wick at the end all burned out with nothing to show for it. What...?

Another one came flying through the same window, landing in a farther corner of the porch.

Julio yelled, "Down!", and they all ducked again.

This time, it came as less of a surprise when nothing blew up. Still they waited a good half minute before sitting up. Provenza moved first, taking quick cover behind a tree, his gun trained on the window. From that position he waved them a signal that there was no immediate threat and they could move, as well.

"Alright, Hartley – this is the LAPD!" he shouted. "Come out with your hands up!"

Julio and Sharon quickly made their way back to the car, and, safely behind it, pulled their own guns out. The detective aimed his at the window, and echoed:

"_LAPD_! Come out, or we're coming in after you!"

The only response was more anticlimactic silence.

Sharon stared at the dilapidated house, silent and ominous in the twilight.

This home visit was going entirely _un_like she'd anticipated.

* * *

><p>From their covered positions behind the tree and the car, they exchanged quick glances and brief hand signals. Provenza could go around the house on the left. Julio on the right. Sharon could easily cover the front door from her position. Between the three of them, they should be able to...<p>

The door squeaked open.

"Michael Hartley!" called Julio again.

A scrawny man in a white shirt and tight yoga pants peered out, his body still half-hidden behind the doorway. "You're LAPD...? Wait, don't come any closer!" he yelped when Julio shifted a step away from the car. "You can't get in here! It's protected!"

"Oh I wouldn't bet on that," retorted Provenza. "Get out here, Hartley – and keep your hands where we can see them. Ah – _slowly,_" he warned.

The man stepped out onto the porch, hesitantly. It was a little hard to tell in the dimming light, but he looked like the right person – and he was evidently unarmed, his hands half-raised and no place on his person to hide a weapon. He was squinting at them with a mixture of confusion and caution... until his eyes landed on Sharon, and he yelped again and backed into the wall.

"You! I saw you! Don't come any closer!" His hands began to wave agitatedly, prompting Julio to bark another order to stay still. He stopped moving and let Julio and Provenza approach, but his wide eyes never left Sharon.

"_You have to stay away from her_," he whispered loudly when Provenza was close enough to grab his elbow. "_She's one of them._"

The lieutenant stared at him.

* * *

><p>Getting Hartley into the car was a challenge.<p>

"We can't get in there with her! Didn't you hear what I said?" They hadn't handcuffed him, so he could pry his elbow loose from Provenza's grasp and point shakily at Sharon. "Don't you come anywhere near me! _I_ know what you are!"

"You be careful how you talk to the Captain," growled Julio. "And get. in the damn. car...!" He tried to push them man into the backseat again, only to have him wriggle out and swivel back around.

"No!"

Provenza groaned. Julio gave Sharon his 'Can I arrest him, Ma'am' look, and Sharon let out a long, exasperated breath.

"They always come out on Halloween," the man mumbled stubbornly under his breath.

* * *

><p>"– no kidding. And you're sure about that, doc? Wait – hold on a second." Andy lowered the phone as he spotted Sharon, Provenza and Sanchez returning to the murder room escorting their man. "You're not gonna believe what Morales found."<p>

The still-overexcited former sergeant Hartley gave him a long onceover. "Are you one of them, too?"

Andy frowned, "What?"

"Never mind," Provenza advised him, while Sharon was unable to contain a small irritated eyeroll. "Julio, why don't you accompany our friend here to… the break room. Get him a cup of coffee or something. Maybe make it decaf," he suggested from the corner of his mouth.

Once Sanchez and Hartley were out of earshot, the lieutenant turned to Sharon for a brief commiserating glance. "I don't know what Morales found," he commented, "but I hope _Sykes_ found the psychiatrist."

"I talked to her, yes," confirmed Amy. "She won't reveal any confidential information, just as we expected, but she agreed to forward me the brief statement she gave Hartley's SID commander a few years ago. It has a summary of her conclusions about his mental state."

"Let me guess," Provenza deadpanned, "it says 'delusional' and 'paranoid'."

Sykes confirmed with a nod, and added, "He also seems to have had a particular fascination for the supernatural and the occult." She glanced at the garlic, rosemary and horseshoe pinned to the murder board. "We'd kind of figured that one out already, I guess. But Dr. O'Dell doesn't think Hartley was the violent type."

"Ah. Those fire bombs he lobbed at us must've been the _nonviolent_ kind, then."

"What?!" Andy had briefly wrapped up the phone call with the ME, just in time to hear his partner's sarcastic statement. "He threw _fire bombs_ at you?"

"Well – not at _all_ of us," Provenza amended, his eyebrows arching pointedly. "But apparently _one_ of us is not _like_ the others."

"...what?"

"Thank you, lieutenant," Sharon cut in with a wry glance at Provenza. "It's likely that the improvised bombs were harmless," she clarified. "A bomb squad and SID will determine that. What did Dr. Morales have to say? Did he find anything else that might help us identify the remains?"

It still took Andy a moment to get over the fire bombs news, but eventually, with a slow head shake, he went with her change of topic. "Uh...yeah. Two things. There's damage consistent with possible bullet impacts on the left ribs. Morales thinks the victim might've gotten shot, but there are some missing bone fragments so he didn't give me the exact gun caliber or anything. He did find a metal fragment and sent it to the lab, they'll let us know once they figure out where it comes from."

"So someone did murder "Jill"," said Mike. He glanced at the murder board, where they'd pinned up Hartley's personnel photo under the word 'suspect'. "Do we think it might've been Hartley?"

Sharon followed his gaze, and, after a thoughtful silence, shook her head. "Too early to tell," she murmured. "Andy, you said there were two things. What's the second?"

"Morales thinks she was around sixty or sixty-five years old at the time of death," he replied. "And that the bones are at least a couple of decades old; he found evidence that they've been cleaned, maybe chemically treated, but he doesn't know with what, yet."

"Curiouser and curiouser," quoted Tao. "Maybe Hartley knows more. By the way – SID confirmed that it _was_ his prints on the duct tape. If nothing else, he's definitely the owner of the desk where we found "Jill"."

"Oh, he is definitely _something_ else, alright," muttered Provenza. He glanced at his watch, and complained, "What's on Earth's keeping Julio? How long does it take to get our ghostbuster a cup of coffee?"

Sharon shook her head again. It wasn't as though she was looking forward to the interview, anyway. While her couple of decades in FID had more than accustomed her to it, she certainly didn't _enjoy_ having to interact with people who thought she ate small children for breakfast.

* * *

><p>Trying for a mental break while they waited for the interview to be set up, she approached Amy's desk. "Did Rusty go home?"<p>

"I don't think so," said the young detective. "I saw him walk out a few minutes ago, but I think he was just going to get a soda..."

Sure enough, as if summoned, the boy entered the murder room a few seconds later, a can of soda in his hand (Sharon narrowed her eyes at it, because was that _Coke_ he was having at nearly eight p.m.?).

"Oh, hey Sharon, you're back."

She smiled at him, happy to see him but a little regretful that she'd have to cancel their dinner plans after all – and here he'd waited all this time for her, and now she'd only have to disappoint him...

"FYI, uh, there's a guy in the break room with Detective Sanchez who thinks you're like, the Dark Lord or something."

Oh, for God's sake.

* * *

><p>"I want a lawyer."<p>

Provenza grimaced. As far as first words exchanged in an interview room went, these were pretty much the worst.

"You're not under arrest, Mr. Hartley," said Julio impatiently.

Ultimately, since the man still tended to back up frantically into the nearest corner whenever he laid eyes on Sharon, it had been decided that she'd let the two of them handle the interview, and direct everything from electronics instead.

"Then why did you bring me here?" He looked from one officer to the other, "_She_ told you to bring me here, didn't she? They're everywhere... I know you don't believe me, but I can tell... look, I'm not crazy, okay? Didn't you see my protection wards stop her, on the porch?"

"We just have a few questions for you," Julio stated in a neutral tone.

"There's _plenty_ of evidence," the retired sergeant argued. "You just need to be willing to look for it."

"Ah – looking for evidence, _that_'s certainly something we all love to do around here," agreed Provenza. "So how about we get to the point of our little meeting, shall we. Mr. Hartley..."

"You can call me Mike."

The lieutenant sighed, "_Mike_. We asked you here because we'd like your hel – "

"You should pay more attention to your captain. If you look _really closely_, you can see it in her eyes." He nodded wisely. "It's the eyes that always give them away."

* * *

><p>Everyone in electronics glanced at her.<p>

Sharon pressed two fingers between her eyebrows, and mentally counted to ten.

* * *

><p>"Let's talk about your time with the LAPD," suggested Provenza. "You worked in SID, is that right...Mike?"<p>

The man nodded. "For almost three years, yes. I was in the Field Investigation unit," he said proudly. "You know – that's where you see a lot of things. You should read my reports."

"And you retired from the force in...2008, is that correct?"

Another nod. "Yes. Yes, uh..." He cleared his throat, "it was... mutually agreed upon that that was the best option. Gave me more time to pursue my own line of investigations... I got my PI license, you know?"

"What kind of investigations?" asked Julio.

Hartley leaned forward, his eyes widening emphatically. "The things the world doesn't see. They're everywhere." He glanced up toward the hidden camera, then leaned even closer to the two detectives and whispered hoarsely, "_Everywhere_."

* * *

><p>"This guy's a total lunatic," said Andy, almost in wonder.<p>

"Well... a lot of people do believe in the paranormal and supernatural," Tao defended, "although, they're not usually SID investigators..."

"Yeah, and I bet they don't usually keep skeletons in their desks, either."

"I think Lt. Provenza's about to ask him about the skeleton," Buzz put in, and they all directed their attention back to the interview on their monitors.

"Buzz, is that a fly on the screen?" murmured Sharon.

The civilian waved a hand at it.

* * *

><p>Provenza opened the folder he'd brought in, and pulled out a photo. He slid it across the table to the retired sergeant.<p>

"Do you recognize this, Mike?"

The man glanced down. "Uh...yeah? It's a desk...? Why are you showing me a d _ –_ oh." His face fell.

"_Ohh_." He looked back up at the two officers with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. "...uh oh?"

* * *

><p>Sharon rubbed a hand to her forehead.<p>

Flynn and Amy were grinning openly. Buzz was staring at the screen with a sort of horrified fascination.

"_Ah – so would you say you recognize _this_ desk, in particular? Here are a couple other items we found inside... help jog the old memory." _On the screen, Provenza was sliding a few more photos over. "_Any thoughts?_"

She saw it coming a moment before it actually happened.

"_Uh... I think maybe I really want that lawyer now...?_"

Sharon let her chin fall to her chest.

* * *

><p>"So how's it going with your werewolf guy?"<p>

Werewolf guy.

Sharon grimaced as she poured the hot water into her mug. Tea wasn't particularly helpful right now, but any small comfort...

Another twenty minutes of trying to get information out of Hartley had only led to him asking for a lawyer two more times, asking if he could have the skeleton back _four_ times, and explaining to them the subtle characteristics of werewolf anatomy for ten minutes straight.

He'd also requested that the horseshoe be returned to him – apparently the one he'd gotten as a replacement was made from impure iron and didn't work as well. Naturally.

"Did you know he has a video of a haunted house on that USB? There's like, blood on the walls and everything. You should see it. Buzz showed it to me."

Buzz was grounded.

This was all Buzz's fault. If it hadn't been for him bringing that desk to the murder room...

...oh God, she was starting to agree with Provenza. Talk about scary.

"Is it true you guys once had a dead body delivered to you in a duct-taped cooler? Buzz told me," the boy added again for good measure – and Sharon made a mental note to remind Buzz of what constituted appropriate conversation material. Algebra, yes. Blood and dead bodies, no. It wasn't so hard.

"Rusty, I'm not sure how much longer this is going to take," she said tiredly as she stirred honey into her tea. "Go home. It's already past eight-thirty, I don't want you missing dinner."

"That's okay," he assured her, "I'm not hungry. Amy had a lot of Halloween candy."

Oh, great. Buzz was showing her teenager gory haunted house videos and Sykes was feeding him processed sugar. No _wonder_ Rusty was refusing to go home.

Maybe she should send him home with one of them, tonight. That would teach them.

"I think you've had enough soda for one day, young man," Her narrow-eyed look stopped him before he could get another can of Coke from the machine. Picking up her mug, Sharon motioned with her head for him to follow her as she left the break room, "And it's absolutely time for you to go home. Go get your things from the cubicle."

"But I don't _mind_ waiting...!"

"Yes, I've noticed," she deadpanned. "Go get your things."

The boy huffed protestingly. "You know, _yesterday_ you were asking me if I was sure I didn't want to do something fun for Halloween," he grumbled.

Sharon paused by the door to Electronics. "I _meant_, with your _friends_."

"These _are_ my friends!"

She rolled her eyes, "A potential murder case is not a Halloween party, Rusty."

"I don't get to have _any_ fun, ever."

Sharon snorted under her breath, and ignored the boy's scandalized expression.

"Uh, Captain Raydor...?" Buzz had opened the door to electronics.

She signaled Rusty away with a wave of her hand, and turned to the civilian. "Has Mr. Hartley finally agreed to tell us where he got the skeleton...?"

The blond winced. "...not...exactly."

* * *

><p>Sanchez and Provenza had joined the rest of them in electronics. "Look, I know you don't want us to <em>arrest<em> this guy, Captain," the latter complained, "but can we at least _gag_ him...?"

If only.

"Does he still want a lawyer?"

"He does, Ma'am." Julio looked no happier than the lieutenant. "And now he wants a doctor too."

"A doctor...?"

"And a priest."

...what?

"Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, doesn't it," grumbled Provenza.

Sharon continued to stare between the two of them.

"Apparently he wants his therapist," Amy clarified. "And a priest to "ward" the place against evil spirits, because it's almost midnight on Halloween, Ma'am. Not a good time to get caught unprepared."

"Okay, obviously this guy's not gonna give us anything tonight. Let's let him sleep on it," suggested Andy – then he smirked. "Maybe with the lights off."

"Oh, the lights are _already_ off, if you ask me..." muttered his partner.

Sharon shook her head. _"_I don't want to waste a whole night waiting, when we don't even have an ID on the victim," she said quietly. "And we can't be sure he won't still refuse to talk tomorrow morning._"_

"Well – unless you want us to break out the _hot pokers_...which I wouldn't blame you for, at this point," said Provenza, "I think we've exhausted all _friendly_ lines of inquiry. He doesn't want to give up how he got the skeleton, and the only thing he seems to know about her identity is what she did on the full moon." His eyebrows arched sardonically, and Sharon closed her eyes for a second.

"Did you explain to him that withholding information from us is illegal?"

"Twice, Ma'am." Julio shot a disgusted look at the monitors.

"And that she might be a murder victim?"

The detective nodded.

"And he _still_ won't cooperate." She couldn't believe this. "What kind of retired police officer refuses to help us catch a potential killer?"

"The kind who petitions eight times to form a division dedicated to apprehending goblins," replied Provenza.

"Is our suspect trying to draw a pentagram on our wall?" Buzz squinted at the screen. "...with his coffee...?"

Everyone's leaned in to study the monitors.

Andy crossed his arms. "This guy's hilarious. No, seriously, I think we should let him finish it."

Sharon shot him an annoyed glare, then straightened in one swift move. "Alright. Enough is enough. Lieutenant, detective – with me, please." And with that, she preceded Provenza and Sanchez out the door, her heels snapping irritatedly in the direction of the interview room.

Tao gave a lopsided sort of headshake, his eyebrows arching. "Uh-oh," he quoted wisely.

* * *

><p>The retired sergeant jumped up in his seat at the sight of Sharon marching into the interview room. She could've sworn even his hair stood on ends.<p>

_Honestly_.

"You...! No, no, no, no! You can't come in here! You can't be in here!" Frantically, he pulled a bronze medallion from inside his shirt, and held it up. "I'm protected! Stay back!"

The half-completed coffee pentagram behind him dripped a trail down the wall.

Okay, that was it.

"People will notice if I disappe-"

"Mr. Hartley!" Sharon walked over to the table, and placed both hands on it, leaning forward. "You are a retired member of the LAPD, and as such we've _tried_ to show you all the respect and benefits you might be entitled to – but if you continue to _refuse_ to cooperate with us and _deny_ us information that might be _vital_ to solving a _potential homicide_," (she saw the man looking behind her to Provenza, for help, and shifted to block his line of sight), "then I can assure you that any professional courtesy we've shown you will end _here_, and we're going to be having a very different conversation!"

Swallowing hard, he craned his neck a little, and tried to see around her to her detectives. "...look at _her eyes_..."

"Mr. Hartley!" For God's sake. "_Where_ did you get the human skeleton that we found in your desk?"

He swallowed again.

"Let me remind you," she said in a sharp tone, "that failing to answer our questions leaves you open to accessory charges, as well as charges of obstruction of justice. Not only will you go to court and possibly to _jail_," she threatened, "but you'll lose your retirement benefits, _as well_ as your right to work in any security-related field! So think very carefully before you continue to ignore my questions." She looked him straight in the eyes again, and repeated. "Where. Did you get. The bones."

The man gave her the look that a mouse gives a cobra.

"Are you going to kill me if I don't tell you...?"

"No," she narrowed her eyes, "I am going to _arrest_ you, get you your lawyer, and make you deal with the consequences of you refusal to cooperate."

He paused. "...is that code for "kill me"...?"

"_No_!"

The lights above flickered abruptly, accompanied by an electric hissing noise and a few sparks.

Hartley's jaw dropped. "Oh god."

Sharon wasn't entirely sure why he was staring at her in undisguised terror again.

The lights came back to normal, and she sighed. "Mr. Hartley..."

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! Okay?! _I'll tell you_!"

Behind Sharon, Provenza and Julio exchanged appreciative smirks.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! I hope the goblins didn't get any of you on Friday night ;)!<br>**


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Major Crimes, Crime, Humor