Chapter II: The wild door

"Did you get anything from the father?" Sean Renard asked after the detectives got back to the precinct that afternoon. They were at Renard's office.

"The father and stepmother were at hospital and Keila's stepsiblings were supposed to take care of her. They're teenagers so everything else was more important," Nick began the story they'd heard.

"And the real mother?"

"They seem to think that this is her fault. Father told that she has mental illness. She moved to Salem after their divorce."

"What kind of mental illness, did they tell that?"

"Schizophrenia," Hank answered to Renard.

"That's bad," Renard stated, "If she has Keila, there's no way of knowing what she might do to her."

"I'll try to get her on the phone," Hank promised and left the room. Nick stayed behind.

"Do you have something more, detective?" Sean asked while sitting behind his desk.

"Has anyone been transferred here?" Nick asked bluntly.

Renard frowned a bit," Not that I know. Why?"

"There was this youngish woman at the scene. She looked very much like detective, Wu saw her too."

"That's interesting. Maybe the transferpapers haven't gotten here yet," Sean offered an explanation," What's her name?"

"We saw her only briefly. She was blond, caucasian, about my height but we didn't get her name."

"Ok, I'm gonna check this. Anything else?"

Nick looked down to his shoes, acting bit nervously and shot the question," Would you know if there would be more royals in Portland?"

"I definitely would know," his boss answered.

"Is there?"

"No. Or at least I haven't heard anything. Why? What did you see?" Renard became alert instantly.

"Maybe I was just tired, I haven't slept too good lately," Nick averted the questions,"Anyway, thank you, I better get back to do my job," and with that, he walked out of Renard's office. But the questions that Nick made, began to bother Renard. Looking at Nick's receding back, Renard shook his head like trying to shake something off of his head.

"Perhaps it's nothing," he muttered to himself. But no, he knew the families better than that and after a short moment of hesitation, he took his cell, calling to his informant.

"Has someone from the families, flown to Portland?" he asked strictly after reply.

"No sir, I would have heard about it," the voice on the other side assured.

"What if someone sneaked secretly here?" the captain pressured.

"That could have happened," french accent was clear," The families are good at that. Keeping things secret."

"Verify the matter and report to me."

"Yes yes, I will call to you if I have something," then click and the other end was gone.

Nick was rummaging the trailer. He'd rummaged it already through, inside out, upside down. Frustrated he threw a one book against the wall, " Damn it, nothing!" He picked up the book and placed it back at the table. Stepping out his trailer he locked it and drove to Monroe's place. The Blutbad opened the door after one knock.

"I have a problem," the Grimm blurted.

Monroe raised his eyebrows," Dude, you always have problems when you come here."

"Oh haha, not funny. Seriously, I can't find someone from the books."

"Have you checked them all?"

"Yes."

"And now you think that we can help you when the books can't," Monroe was leading Nick to kitchen and offered him a beer," Alright, tell me."

"Ok, I, well, we saw her at one crime scene today."

"At that little girl's kidnapping-scene that was on the news?" Rosalee interrupted them," Hi Nick."

"Oh, hello Rosalee. Yes, it was. Monroe, this sounds really crazy but the woman I'm talking about, I don't know if she is Wesen."

"Then I can't help you," Monroe stated.

"No, no, I know she's Wesen because I saw her Woge. Well, kind of,"Nick said puzzled.

Monroe sounded as puzzled as Nick was," Kind of saw or kind of Woge?"

"I saw her kind of Woge. I mean, her appearance did and didn't change but her eyes, they flashed. As if they had Woged."

The Blutbad had just sipped his beer but it burst all out after what Nick had just told. Rosalee went to fetch a paper towel.

"Dude, not good."

"What? Could she be another royal?" Nick wanted to know.

"Not that kind of royal, Nick. I think you've encountered something way more exotic and rare," Rosalee replied.

"And believe me man, you don't want to have anything to do with that kind of exotic," Monroe added, " because that kind of exotic is dangerous. Really bad news."

"Oh, well, how dangerous and bad news?"

"Well, not like 'Houston we have a problem' kind of bad or dangerous news, nothing like that. More like morning after kind of bad news. Not that it would be dangerous at all," Monroe waffled.

"And how do you know that?" Rosalee asked, trying not to laugh at Monroe's embarrassed expression.

Monroe looked at other way and something like, " I'm not proud of it but I've done that few times," came out of his lips.

Rosalee and Nick exchanged a look and burst to laugh. " You don't have to be so embarrassed Monroe, we're all been in that situation, though I wouldn't have guessed that you'd done it," Nick said.

"I was young," was Monroe's defence.