A/N Here's hoping I am doing Kim Possible and The X Files Justice. I know I've enjoyed writing this chapter.

The examination of the crime scene had been reasonably productive but Kim and Ron still ended up with more questions than answers. Even though they hadn't proceeded too far past square one, the agents were fairly optimistic when they arrived at the town civic center. However Kim couldn't help think that she and her partner might have been optimistic for vastly different reasons. When Ron smiled, it was the smile of someone who knew something you didn't. It was the kind of smile that usually attracted trouble. Kim contemplated the thoughts behind the smile as they exited their rental car.

"Mr. Gartner?" Ron called out to the lone man standing in front of the coroner's office.

"Yes sir. That's me," the county medical examiner said.

"Special Agent Stoppable, F.B.I," Ron gestured to Kim. "My partner Special Agent Possible."

"Nice to meet you all," Gartner said.

Ron shaped the fingers of his right hand into the shape of a phone and brought them to his ear. "We talked on the phone."

"Yeah we kept them on ice for ya. Now the question is, will that be to stay or to go?"

Ron and Kim exchanged glances as the coroner chuckled to himself.

Gartner continued to chuckle until he broke into a coughing fit. "A little gallows humor," he muttered when he had calmed down,

"Riiiiiggggghhhhtttt, I don't get it" Ron said quickly. "Anyway we'll just ignore the creepiness and move on to business."

"You know we never really got a chance to do a full autopsy. Sheriff called you all before we could dig deep. The agent that came before you didn't let us do much either. I'm sure if you let us do our job; we can save you some trouble. We can even have a full report ready for you by morning. I know this an unusual case and we are a small town operation but we don't make mistakes."

"Dude, we would be honored to have your assistance," Agent Stoppable responded with a friendly tone. "However, my partner here would have to take the lead in this procedure."

Kim nodded. "The thing is firsthand experience when possible can benefit the investigation. For example the initial pictures you and the sheriff provided were fine---"

Ron interrupted. "Though I would highly recommend the good town of Shamrock invest in a new digital camera for the crime scene photos."

Kim gave him a sharp look.

"But I'm a little high maintenance so..." Ron paused as he noticed the M.E staring blankly at him.

"Here's the thing dude, a picture sez a thousand words. But all those words could be a random jumbled mess, now having evidence in your face is like having an audio book. You pay enough attention and you'll hear a story."

Kim smiled brightly. "Uh exactly, we'd uh like to hear the story firsthand Mr. Gartner. And though a detailed report would be good under most circumstances. This is an opportunity I'd like to take an advantage of."

Gartner shrugged. "OK, my assistants and I will have the lab ready in a moment."

Ron watched the M.E walk into the building before turning to Kim. "So ready to work your medically trained mojo?"

"You know, it would save time if you go to the meeting with the sheriff while I work in the lab."

Ron's eyebrow furrowed. "You don't mind me going alone?"

"Are you going to take part in the examination?" she asked with a start of a grin on her face.

His face lost some color right before her eyes. "No, no I don't dabble with the dead. I was just going to... observe. And maybe hand you a scalpel every now and then."

"Are you concerned about me working on the victims? I have examined cadavers in class and in the field before."

"It's not that." The furrowing of Ron's eyebrows continued. "Have you worked bodies like these? Like the man said, they are unusual you know."

"They're deceased. I can handle that. And don't think I'm going to cut any corners, I want to know the truth just as much as you do."

Ron whistled softly to himself. "You think so huh?"

The mischievous smile that Kim had noted once or twice before had returned to Ron's face.

"I don't just think so, I know so."

Ron ran his hands together. "OK let me get this straight; you don't mind me going alone?" He paused for a the briefest of moments, and then continued, "You have been briefed about me right?"

"I am expecting to be brought up to speed with a detailed report, like the one I will be presenting to you when I'm done."

"A detailed report huh?" Ron sighed deeply. "You're a stickler for walking the line aren't you?"

"It is part of our job."

"Part of your job would be NOT letting me go out alone." Ron again was looking for that confession from Kim; that another part of her job was to spy on him. Once again his quest would fail.

"I don't see a breach of protocol here."

Ron ran his hand though his mussed air before clucking loudly. "Sounds like a very fair division of labor to me. You probe the victims, I'll probe the sheriff."

At that moment, Ron just froze with no expression on his face. Kim soon became worried and asked, "Ron? Ron? Ron! Are you OK?

"What?" as he shook his head. "Sorry, just a bad image I was trying to get out of my head."

Kim watched Ron turn on his heels and start down the block. She called out after him. "You want the car?"

"Nah I think I'll walk," her partner responded. "See the town a little."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Though she didn't really play the part, Kim was for all intents and purposes a medical doctor. As such she had some experience with the dead. This became true especially after the Bureau approached her, and she turned her attention towards the world of forensic pathology. So it was safe to say she had a number of opportunities to perform an autopsy. Though it was far from her favorite aspect of the job, she still saw it as a challenge, and she preferred to do it alone if possible.

And she was alone as she stood over the burned husk that was formerly the body of a living breathing person. She inspected the surgical tools on the tray next to the autopsy table. Before they had even ventured into Shamrock, Kim had gone over all the medical texts she could find on electrical based injuries. She had a fair idea of what she should and should not find.

When she felt ready; she brought her sleek digital mini pen recorder to her lips and went to work.

"Subject; Paul Oz. Male Caucasian, thirty eight years old, subject is six feet tall weighing 215 pounds."

Paul's face was blackened and peeling. Kim touched the body and a flake of charred flesh fell off. Even with her all her professionalism she couldn't help but think, "ewwww."

"Apparent cause of death is respiratory arrest caused by an electrical current passing through the brain and heart. There are many indicators of damage normally attributed to thermal burns along the exterior of the body. Thermal burns may cover large sections of the body but are usually only partial thickness. In contrast to this the victim's entire body seems to have been affected.…"

Kim stared down at Paul's teeth, though stained with plaque they poked through his blackened lips. "Strangely enough though there are layers of complete external charring, subject's teeth appear relatively intact. In fact neither subjects hair nor any of their fingernails are even slightly singed."

Kim moved on to the head and began probing in detail for any clues left behind. "Because the current is usually concentrated at the source contact point, the greater degree of damage is found at that point. Based on that I can reasonably include the source contact point was the very top of the victim's forehead. We can theorize he was struck from above. At least a few feet above his head."

Finishing her preliminary examination Kim took a large scalpel and cut into Paul Oz's body cavity. After digging through the victim and taking copious notes Kim moved on to the second victim Feely Henson. Though the man weighed a little over three hundred pound, she knew what to expect and it didn't take as long to validate her notes.

"To summarize," She said through corner of her mouth while her fingers worked the volume of her pen recorder. "Both industrial shocks and lightning strikes result in deep burns at point of contact. There is evidence of this in both victims. Industrial shock victims sometimes exhibit deep tissue destruction along the entire current path, while lightning victims' burns seem to center at the entry and exit points. Both victims exhibit full body deep tissue destruction; however there is a greater degree of damage found at the same point on the tip of their foreheads, which appears to be the entry point. There is no exit point and the current seemed to have dissipated before penetrating deeply into the bone structure but not before causing significant internal damage to the brain and heart."

She frowned. "One possibility is that this is the work of advanced technology. I can safely conclude it is not the work of any conventional weapon used in villainy or otherwise. From the initial reports it has become clear that the victims' clothes received no damage beyond the interior cloth partially fusing with the victims' charred skin. We can imagine the clothes had made contact as the thermal burns occurred. This all leads to the thought that this weapon only damages living tissue. However this is strictly conjecture."

Kim stared down at the bodies, deeply troubled. Conjecture or not something dangerous was out there and she had to find out what it was. No they had to find out what was going; Kim backed away from the bodies. She was part of a team now, and they had their work cut out for them.

She got the faint feeling that she was may have made a mistake when her call second called to her partner's cell. The feeling grew when she arrived at the local sheriff's office and was notified that the blond agent had come and gone.

"I gave him the information we had on the victims. That didn't take long and he seemed real disappointed about that." The Sheriff said with a shrug. "Then he asked how long I've been working here. I told him I just transferred here a few years ago from Portland. That's when he asked some touristy questions."

"Touristy questions?"

"About the town, it's history, the town hot-spots or lack thereof. He seemed more excited about that than the other information."

Kim accepted this information graciously before leaving the sheriff's office. The lawman didn't know why Ron needed the information and Kim didn't have much of a clue either. She was grappling to get a hold on her partner's motives when her cell rang out.

"Isn't it weird" the voice on the other line said when she answered.

"What?"

"Isn't it weird that you were just thinking about me, and then I suddenly call? That's the sign of a special connection, a strong partnership."

Kim sighed heavily, "Why didn't you pick up the phone when I called."

"Well, I have trust issues since you're kind of a---"

"If you say spy one more time…" Kim allowed her words to trail off.

"A newbie, when it comes to working with me," Ron said quickly. "The thing is, I've thought about it and I'm probably going to need your help."

"Probably?" Kim remarked.

"Correction. I'm going to need your help. And I'm going to need you to pick me up."

"Where are you now?"

"Believe it or not, I'm at the South Valley Senior Center. They're having one of their free weekly dances this afternoon. The old folks like to call it, "'"The Club.'" Why don't you stop by."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As expected, "The Club" was named ironically. No strobe lights, bass-pounding rhythms or skin tight leather pants here. What Kim discovered was a senior center offering classes in aerobics, fishing and pottery, and dancing.

She also saw, when she entered the center's large dance hall, her partner twirling hand in hand with an elderly woman. The senior he led across the dance floor had to have been close to three times his age. After getting over her initial shock of seeing Ron with a bewigged geriatric she realized that in the room, along with a live band there was at least a half dozen or so other elderly pairs moving across the dance floor. A few more people were scattered in each corner of the room, chatting it up while moving stiffly to the music. It was wall to wall elderly, boogieing to some old rock music. Kim waited impatiently for the current song to end before marching across the dance floor.

"Meryl, I know you're too old to commit...," Ron said as he separated himself from the old woman. "But you've got to admit we've got an ageless chemistry going on here."

"Oh pshaw," the old woman cooed.

Clearing her throat loudly, Kim brought the dance partners' attention to herself. "Hello."

Ron wasn't phased by her sudden appearance beside him. He smiled broadly at her and then at the old woman. "A.P I'd like you to meet Mrs. Collins, AKA Meryl 'Lightfoot'." We met as I strolled around town, we chatted a bit and then she invited me here. Meryl, this is special agent Kim 'highest number of solved cases two years running' Possible"

"That's an unusual name dear."

Kim flashed a smile to the old woman. "Well I was named by an unusual man."

Then she glared at her partner. "Why are we here?"

"What do we know about Paul Oz and Feely Henson so far?" Ron inquired.

"Small-time amateurs, petty thieves, nuisance offenders. The biggest thing on their rap sheet is a bungled attempted robbery of a poker game that ended up like a three stooges sketch. Once they got out; Paul became licensed as a bounty hunter, Feely did odd jobs when not trying to push his brand of moonshine or gambling illegally."

"That sounds like those boys."Meryl remarked.

"Is there anything else A.P?"

Kim shook her head. "What am I telling you that you don't already know? Didn't the sheriff already clue you in?"

"Come on, we need to build on our communication skills. We need to learn how to dialogue."

With her right eyebrow arched, Kim crossed her arms over her chest.

Ron gestured towards the old woman, "Come on play along, for Meryl's sake at least."

"They were born and raised in Shamrock," Kim stated. "Excluding some time in juvenile hall, and a few brief stints in the system, they've lived here all their lives."

"What a coincidence, Meryl's been here all her life!"

Meryl nodded. "I used to baby sit Paul and Feely when they were younger, God bless their souls. I babysat many of the town's children. Feely was the loudest of the two boys, he was always shouting about something or another. Paul was quiet, but smart." The old woman then leaned over to Kim and with a hushed tone she said. "However, and I hate to speak ill of the dead, they were two thieves in a pod. Paul was what you would call ... a kleepto?"

"Kleptomaniac," Kim corrected.

"That's it." Meryl glanced at Ron. "You were right, she is smart."

Kim briefly exchanged glances with Ron before Meryl continued. "He was a kleptomaniac, but unfortunately for him he was also an extreme pack rat. When he was young, Paul's mother, she's passed on now, she used to confide in me, actually everyone confided in me those days, some still do, not much changes around here except for my hearing."

She laughed softly before continuing.

"Anyway, she used to tell me that every time she would clean that boy's room she find something peculiar. For a fact, one time she found Mrs. Gabzura's famous lawn gnome that had gone missing two years before, in the boy's closet."

"She's telling the truth" Ron nodded before pointing to the far end of the room. "Mrs. Gabzura's right over there and she can corroborate the story about her stolen gnome."

Ron pointed to another man who right in the middle of performing the Charleston. "Now that dude over there, who is currently busting a move. He has a story about Paul's father clearing out his garage, and finding his wife's missing earrings. He also let it drop that Feely would do anything for money and he should know because he hired Feely once to kidnap his neighborhood dog." Responding to his partner's look he answered, "Apparently the dog had it coming."

He turned towards an old woman in a corner of the room, he waved and she waved back. "Mrs. Blaylock sez her before he died, Feeley owed her grandson a couple of G's."

Kim took a moment to mull over what she had just heard. "And all this is what?"

"Background information A.P it's Victimology 101."

Meryl grinned broadly. "This is a fascinating process. It's just like the police shows on TV."

"OK, I can understand that," Kim conceded. "So did you get the info you needed?"

Ron shrugged. "You could say that."

"Wait, you didn't tell her about the incident." Meryl anxiously interjected. Well as anxiously as she could for her age. "You asked about that too, so it must be relevant."

"Incident?" Kim inquired.

"I, uh, Mrs. Collins, I was going to get to that eventually…"

"You've never heard of it? Why it's the only interesting thing that's happened in this town since the B & C sugar refinery opened up seventy years ago."

Meryl placed her hand against Kim's arm to make sure she had the agent's rapt attention. "Some of us call it the Lake Shore incident, the strangest day in the town's history. You won't find less than a dozen people that don't have some kind of odd tale about that day. For one thing there was an entire section of town where the cars stopped on the road, clocks stopped ticking, and radio's fizzled. John McNeil, he's passed on now, he swore for years that very morning he noticed an unusual cloud starting to form in what was otherwise a clear blue late morning sky. "

His fist to his mouth Ron coughed loudly. "That's a fascinating story Mrs. Collins. Just as fascinating as the first time you told it. Now my partner and I have to do some work involving the law, because we're in law enforcement."

Ignoring him completely Meryl gestured wildly to an elderly man who happened to be shuffling by. "Frank, tell them about your Lakeshore incident."

The old man glanced over at Ron. "I already told him."

"Well tell it again. This time it's for his lovely partner here."

Frank who Kim assumed was around his mid sixties looked her over. "Well now, anything for such a pretty young lady. It was about twelve years ago--"

"Frank, save your energy," Ron muttered.

"I was out fishing that very afternoon all by my lonesome when I see a bright light like a kerosene lamp just floating there over the trees. I thought nothing of it at the time; I even fell asleep in my boat. That's how much I wasn't thinking about it. I woke up, it was dark, I tried to drive home and my truck wouldn't start. Mind you I was an hour out of town. So I decided then I might as well stop by Joe Bullard's place, which of course is closer to my fishing hole than Shamrock. I was hoping to get a ride to town, but when I arrived there I find Joe grabbing at his hair. Turns out, his lights are out, his truck isn't working, and his son is missing."

Silence fell upon the group and it appeared to Kim that everyone was awaiting her reaction. She shifted on her feet before asking. "What happened next?"

"Now we were just about to rush off into the woods in search of him; I mean we had just stepped onto his porch, when the boy walks out of the darkness with a smile on his face. He takes a few steps then faints, drops right on the ground like a sack of cement. We picked him up, went right for the truck and luckily this time it worked. We rushed him into town and had Doc Hall treat him. It turned out the boy was just a little dehydrated."

Kim cast a sharp look upon Ron and replied, "I agree that is a strange occurrence. However we really have to get back to work."

"Yes, we do" Ron said. "It is our job to work."

The two agents offered their fond farewells to their new-found elderly friends before separating themselves from the group. Though the walk from the middle of the room to the exit lasted for a few seconds, it was enveloped in a tense and conflicted atmosphere.

"Nice folk," Ron said. "Lovely folk actually, reminds me of my own grandparents, especially the tanned couple doing the foxtrot."

He opened the door of the room and held it open for Kim. "So, A.P we've got a lot of ground to cover what next?"

"You are going to explain yourself right?" She commented quickly while breezing past him.

"Of course" Ron answered cordially. "I will, when things need to be explained."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The car jumped when they hit a bump on the road. "I shouldn't be driving I really have trouble hitting corners. You should really do most of the driving."

"I know why you took this case!" Kim blurted out

"I'm doing what now?"

"For the weirdness I just experienced with your new elderly friends." Kim paused briefly as Ron he guided their rental down main street.

"Agent Martin hinted about your obsession with unexplained phenomenon."

"Wow, he actually said obsessed?"

"I admit your behavioral analysis may prove to aid the investigation. However that entire situation we just had back there had no relevance to our case whatsoever."

With his head tilted to one side, Ron glanced at Kim with mild curiosity. "Situation?"

"Tall tales and local legends with grandma and grandpa."

"Oh," Ron said. "They seemed like credible witnesses to me."

"They're also seemed kind of y'know old."

"So?" Ron replied quickly.

"So?" Kim repeated irritably. "From the perspective of neuroscience, eyewitness testimony has been found to be much more unreliable than we understand it to be. In addition to that fact, we are dealing with elderly people reminiscing about outrageous anecdotes that occurred close to two decades ago. If you didn't notice one testimony described a cloud like substance in the air, another testimony had a lamplight object in the air."

Ron bit his bottom lip. "You do good logics A.P. I can't deny that. I am willing to concede that some of the background information I gathered may or may not be relevant to this case."

"It's very, likely not relevant."

"That has yet to be determined."

She sighed. "We need to concentrate on who could have killed these men."

"Or what could have killed them," Ron blurted out.

For the next ten minutes they drove in complete silence. "You really believe in things from out of space?" Kim inquired when they had reached a stop sign.

Ron narrowed his eyes and looked at Kim. "I haven't shut the door to better explanations."

"I think you're letting your imagination gets the best of you. It happened to you a lot when you were younger."

Ron turned to her again and she expected him to say something, he even opened his mouth but nothing came out. He fidgeted in his seat as if he had, he appeared to her this was the first time he had become uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I uh, I'll take your word for it" he said tentatively.

"You don't believe me do you?"

"Does it matter if I do or not?"

The redhead then fixed his gaze on her partner. "It matters to me," Kim spoke with a scratch in her voice.

Ron groaned. "I just....don't take this the wrong way. But wouldn't you find it weird being compared to someone you don't know. The guy you're talking about is a stranger to me."

Kim geared up to say something but there came an obvious moment of hesitation followed by a simple, "Fair enough, partner."

"Obviously you were about to say something more than that" Ron stated.

"No, there's nothing more to be said" she responded.

"Really, its---"

"No, it's fine," Kim insisted, her attention then returned to the road.

"See, now everything's all awkward" Ron chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shoulder to shoulder the two agents marched conspicuously through the lobby of the Del Rio motel. Ignoring the passing glances from those exiting the motel the partners conversed amongst themselves as they hit the motel staircase.

"I gotta tell you A.P, I admire your F.B.I swagger. And I say that with all degrees of sincerity"

"Are you still trying to ease tension between us?"

"The simple answer to that is yes. The complicated answer is that you're straight shooter, iron bar for a spine, 'I sleep standing up' walk is deserving of admiration. I've been in the bureau longer than you and I still can't get it right."

Kim glanced over her shoulders at the motel entrance before returning her attention to him. Ron imagined she had immediately replayed their walk over in her mind.

"Your walk was fine," she said confirming his theory.

Shaking his head Ron sighed sadly. "Nah, it was decent at best, but you've got it down pat. Mine lacks…uptightness no offense."

"None taken. But may I suggest "seriousness" in the place of "uptightness" just for future reference."

As they neared the door to a room on the far end of the motel's top floor, Kim began summing up their current situation.

"So according to the motel owner, Paul Oz and Feely Henson lived in this same motel room for the last two years after the bank foreclosed on Henson's family home, and six months later Paul's trailer burned down. The owner was a casual friend of theirs; he turned a blind eye to their occasional shenanigans as long as they paid well. Once in awhile there would be a fight over smells or how the cluttered the room was. After owing months of back rent on the room Mr. Oz suddenly paid his bill in full the very afternoon they were last seen alive."

Kim stopped herself when they were right before the motel room door. "But you already know this since you were the one who picked up the sheriff's reports."

Ron nodded, "that is true."

"So why did you let me go on that long oration."

"You like to explain, I don't mind listening. It's a partnership." He smiled as he pushed the door of the motel room open. "Besides… I skimmed through the reports.

Ron and Kim stepped into the room and both stopped simultaneously to stare at the mess before them. Every square foot in the room was cluttered. Shopping bags, what appeared to be old receipts, pieces of scribbled-on paper, and shredded boxes covered the ground from the door to the double beds in the middle of the room. There wasn't a corner in the room that wasn't piled high with plastic crates filled with clothes; the top of the television was covered in empty bottles. Stacks of magazines of magazines, catalogues and newspapers lined up the walls adjacent the double beds and the night stand besides one of them was completely invisible under a mound of assorted items.

Kim frowned at mess. "Reminds me of your office."

"It's our office now, so half that mess is yours."

Kim drew in a breath as she surveyed the room. "Even after just skimming the report you would know that the sheriff's department already combed through this room. They didn't find much."

Ron ran his hands across his face. "And unfortunately they didn't find anything interesting."

"Interesting huh?" Kim muttered as she handed him a pair of disposal gloves.

"We already know, thanks in part to my old friends. Paul Oz is a compulsive pack rat. He doesn't let go, there has to be something interesting here that can help us out."

Kim stepped further into the room. "Well since we do have the means and opportunity, I would prefer that I… We conduct our own investigation."

Ron groaned. "I dread and love this part of the job."

Kim turned to him. "It would help if we had a general idea of what to look for. Something of a little more specific than 'interesting.'"

"Something weird, unusual." Clearly amused Ron mulled it over for a moment as he slid a glove onto his right hand. "Something that seems out of place."

Kim rolled her eyes. "That should cut down the time. I'll take left side of the room, if you'll take the right."

"Sounds fair."

A half hour or so later, while Ron was digging through the open drawer on what he reasonably assumed was Paul Oz's crowded night stand Kim materialized before him.

"I'm done with my side of the room" she said.

"What?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I also did some of your side while you were looking under the bed."

"Seriously?" Ron's eyes darted from Kim to the mess in Paul Oz's nightstand drawer. His eyes fell onto a blue rubber ball. "I'm not even done with this drawer."

Kim looked down at her partner who was lying on his side on top of a few layers of crumpled sheets "Yes well if you weren't lying in Paul Oz's bed you might be able to search faster."

"Hold that thought," Ron interjected. He pointed to the rows of magazines, newspapers, and catalogs that lined up against the adjacent wall to the bed. "This is weird.....There are eight rows, and every row except row five and six are about five feet high. For the last minute or so I've been lying here wondering why row five and six are only three feet tall."

"Uh-huh," Kim turned away from the stacks. "Aren't you… uncomfortable, lying in the victim's bed."

"Very," Ron sighed. "It's disturbing and more than a little gross."

"So why are you doing it?"

Ron snatched the rubber ball and plopped back onto the bed "Would it help, if I said I'm not being lazy and I'm actually trying to get into the victim's head?"

"I'm more likely to believe it's a little of both."

"Harsh."

Ron tossed the ball against the wall across from him and caught it on the rebound. "So are you going to do your summarizing thing?"

"It's not my thing" Kim snapped back. "But it wouldn't hurt if we started off with the items of 'interest' that was found by the sheriff's department in the apartment and on the victim's person."

Twinkles shone in Ron's eyes as he grinned. "Sure."

"Combined Mr. Oz and Mr. Henson had approximately two hundred dollars in their wallets. Also discovered on Mr. Henson's person were brass knuckles, a syringe, and small bottle of chloral hydrate……Mr. OZ carried two pairs of gloves and some pepper spray…..These guys were not up to anything good."

"That is an understatement A.P."

Ron tossed the ball at the ceiling.

"Wait didn't the sheriff's report mention some other stuff in Oz's pocket?"

"Yeah. A stained napkin, packets of ketchup, receipts, a purple marble, a raffle ticket for a school fair held by the local high two weeks ago. A flier for a high school play "Romeo and Juliet," that opened three weeks ago----

"Romeo and Juliet....."

"-----And finally a ticket stub----"

"Wait I remember it was a ticket stub to a chick flick" Ron said. "A movie called "Summer Loving." Some of Paul's pocket junk doesn't seem to match his personality."

Kim chewed over the items for a moment. "Yeah, a fair, a play, and a romantic movie…The victims were not the type to be found at those events. But we might just be stereotyping them."

"It's all very interesting."

"Now for the evidence found amidst the junk of this room, the sheriff discovered night vision binoculars worth close to two hundred dollars, and a sound amplifier costing about one fifty."

"Spy gear…..Stolen?"

"Bought, some of the receipts found in his wallet."

"These guys have a bank account?" Ron asked.

"Nope, paying their rent, buying the binoculars and amplifier…the three bills in their pocket, these guys came into some money recently. Or more likely some cash.....But where is it? They didn't take it with them, and unless they really were idiots they wouldn't leave it in this room out in the open. What's on the door you can barely a lock."

Ron tossed the rubber ball at any adjacent wall to the bed and caught it on the bounce back. "Good questions, if they didn't spend it all, they hid it somewhere."

"It's possible."

Ron pitched the ball at the adjacent wall again."It's more than possible. So what did we find in the room?"

"You mean what did I find?" Kim remarked.

"Sure, we can go with that."

"Something 'interesting,' a broom I found under Henson's desk."

A curious look came over Ron's face. He eyed his partner speculatively. "You spotted something interesting about that broom?"

Kim turned the broom over showcasing the bristles. Ron squinted and spied the dark colored powder on them.

"Dust?"

"Ventilation dust. I think." Kim said.

"There aren't any ventilation vents in this room, A.P."

"No vents?" Kim face scrunched up as she surveyed the room quickly. "You're right."

Ron sprang upright before whipping the ball at the missing two feet of space right above stack four and five. The ball broke through the very thinly plastered wall.

Kim eyed the wall, "Phantom vent?"

"The phantom vent" Ron grinned.

Moments later the two agents had peeled the plaster from the vent opening and removed small duffel bag from its interior. Ron unzipped the bag and frowned at the contents inside.

"It's the money," Kim said as she explored the bag. "I'd say a couple thousand from an initial glance."

She glanced at her partner. "This is a big lead, you should be excited."

"Oh, I'm excited."

"But disappointed" Kim commented. "You were anticipating something more, more, 'interesting' right?"

"Dunno," Ron reached into the bag and brushing away a pile of candy wrapper he pulled out a digital camera. He turned the camera on and scanned the photos on the memory stick through the rear LCD. "Hmmm, looks like we've got another layer in this onion."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"There is the possibility that Mr. Oz and Mr. Henson were working on some weapon prototype in the woods and it accidentally malfunctioned on them."

"So who moved them?" Ron asked.

"Maybe they had a third member in the group. One whom, like you predicted earlier felt remorse over their deaths but ultimately didn't want to be connected to an illegal experiment. This of course doesn't explain how the bodies were moved."

"And I don't remember the remains of any type of weapon being found in the woods."

"Yet... alternatively this fugitive partner may have cleaned up somehow. " Kim sighed, "Of course the biggest flaw in this theory is that the victims have shown no signs of having the intelligence required to work on such advanced weaponry."

"They could have been interns."

"Here's another theory," Kim continued seemingly ignoring him. "Perhaps the victims were hired to be part of an experiment possibly testing out a new high energy weapon. Unfortunately they got more then they bargained for."

"That's reasonable. But explain this…" Ron held up the digital camera they had discovered in the victim's duffel bag.

"I don't know, but that's why we should keep investigating. Do you have any ideas?"

Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure I've come up with anything yet. But I'm always willing to explore alternative possibilities."

"For example?"

"I'll let you know when I run into some," Ron replied.

Kim stared up ahead, they were currently standing in front of the "The Do Drop In", a local bar or more specifically a dive that was known to be the favorite haunt of the two victims. Kim had insisted they return to Sheriff's department with the bag of money, but Ron disagreed. The bar was conveniently closer to the motel room the victim's lived, in contrast to the Sheriff's office. He was adverse to them doubling back and wasting to time, so here they were.

"So how do we play this?"

Ron glanced at her with a puzzled look on his face. "What?"

"Do you want to take the lead in questioning?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yes," Kim nodded with a sigh. "That is indeed what I'm doing."

"I'm flattered but… I think you should lead. Chances are the guy's in this bar are alpha male types. You're an alpha female, when alphas get together in the same room something usually happens."

"Do we want something to happen?"

Ron grinned, "Something is almost always better than nothing."

"Uh-huh. And what's your role in this?"

"My style is to observe and comment on anything… that may need to be observed and commented upon."

"That's your style?"

Ron nodded. "It's how I roll."

"Fine," Kim followed Ron to the door of the bar and he held it open for her.

"So you think of me as an alpha female huh?"

"A one hundred percent compliment," Ron replied sincerely.

Inside, the place was dim and the air was stagnant. The Drop In had a low hanging ceiling that featured less than "safety inspector approved" light fixtures dangling from them. An old looking wood bar was off to the right. The rest of the space in the tavern, was taken up by multiple wooden tables and accompanying chairs. The song Hotel California blared from the jukebox beside the bar.

"Wow, you can taste the dank on your tongue," Ron said as he moved his tongue about in his mouth.

Kim's lips smacked loudly. "I thought that was the grime."

Including the bartender behind the counter there was only two people in the tavern. One stared down the down at the bottom of a shot glass at a table on the far side of the room and another sat up at the bar with his head on the counter. The bartender looked up at them with a sneer.

"Out of towners, always showing up early. We're not open yet kids."

"What about these guys?" Ron pointed to the two other patrons.

"They're some of my regulars." The bartender crowed.

"Well we're F.B. I." Kim replied.

Ron and Kim flashed their identification at the bartender as they approached the bar.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about Paul Oz and Feely Henson. They were regulars too"

"I already told the sheriff everything I knew."

Kim smiled politely. "Well how about you talk to us about them…Mr.?"

"Frank."

"That's your last name?"

"No," he scoffed. "It's Frank Kollings and you are too cute to be a cop."

Kim grimaced; she exchanged a quick glance with Ron and gave him eye-roll that he defined as saying "Puh-leeze".

Ron was in mid-chuckle when some furtive movement from the other man at the bar. The man lifted his head off counter and was now glaring at the two agents.

Kim leaned into bar. "Now Mr. Kollings we would appreciate your cooperation in our investigation."

Frank waved her off. "I'll pass."

Kim stared into Frank's eyes and held his gaze. "You can treat me and my partner to some small town hospitality or you we can talk later while the local fire brigade takes a gander at those fire traps you call lights."

The bartender gave Kim a sour look. "You're not so cute anymore."

"Ah A.P? This guy over here is giving us the stink eye."

"If you want to harass someone, harass Pete 'the squeak' over there." The bartender pointed to the man at the counter. "He got real friendly with Feely in the last year."

Pete, apparently soused, pushed himself from the bar; "Whaat's that ssupposed to mean?"

"Sir, is it true that you were friends with the deceased" Kim asked.

"No I didn't know them." He answered with a husky laugh, "but I'd do anything for those magnificent bastards."

"That's a contradiction sir," Ron chuckled-whispered to Kim.

"You think?" She said.

"He gave the Sheriff the same song and dance but all the regulars will tell you different," Frank laughed. "He had a man-crush on Feely; we tease him about it all the time. It's a running gag in this place."

"Shut your mouth Frank! You don't know anything about nothing!"

Ron carefully studied the drunk before him. "I would bet this man has had a drink or two A.P."

"Well let's give it a shot anyway." Kim stepped forward. "Sir we'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Hhoow about yoou buy me a drink?" Pete slurred.

"How about we get to know each other a little first?" Ron quipped

"Listen," Pete snarled. "I was talking to the lady, not too you!"

Swiftly Kim placed herself between Ron and Pete. "We'd just like to talk about Mr. Oz and Mr. Feely."

Pete wavered on his feet. "I didn't know them; I didn't know them at all"

Ron reached over Kim's shoulder and pointed to the man's eyes. "You know a high blinking rate while speaking is a sure sign that someone is lying."

"You calling me a liar?"

"Actually sir, the perspiration on your forehead is calling you a liar" Ron replied.

With an unexpected swiftness Pete sidestepped Kim and shoved Ron into the bar. He raised his big ham-like fist. Kim tensed up after he had brushed past her, she wasn't sure if Ron was any good at martial arts, but she was. Pete launched his fist at Ron and Kim grabbed his wrist out of the air with one hand and exerted pressure and control over it. Stepping forward she rotated the Pete's elbow and dragged his upper body onto the counter.

"Sir, you've just assaulted a federal officer, the maximum term of imprisonment under the current legislature is three years." Kim stated calmly.

"Now it is my duty to drag you to the sheriff, but that's not entirely set in stone. I have been known to become generous in the face of cooperation."

"Whoa! No fighting in the bar!" Frank yelled out.

Ron shook his head rapidly. "There was no fight, there was only total ownage."

Kim glanced in Ron's direction. He appeared genuinely impressed.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm copacetic. You however are definitely earning that Alpha badge"

Kim smiled to herself, despite her better judgment. She applied a bit more pressure to Pete's wrist and he whimpered into the wood of the counter. "Now sir, will cooperate?"

"Now come on, don't put a hurting on the lil' guy. He's just a tough guy wannabe," Frank muttered. "Dammit Pete, just tell them what you know."

"Alright!" Pete wailed. Kim released Pete from the hold and he immediately began to rub down his wrist.

"I am…we were friends… me, Paul, and Feely were friends. We met when I moved here last year. It shocked me what happened to my pals, I've been in a stupor since."

"Did you notice anything strange about their behavior leading up to their deaths?" Kim asked.

"Nah nothing much, maybe they were a little more cheerful….and that makes things even more tragic."

"Cheerful? About what?"

"Feely had an idea for a job, he always has great ideas, and this one was a great idea, as far as great ideas go this one was…"

"The fastest way to a point is to cut to it" Kim sighed.

"A few months ago he got the idea that he and Paul who work as private investigators. You know 'P.I' and whatnot."

Frank nodded, "Idiots posted fliers all over my bar."

Ron turned to Kim. "Were they licensed?"

Kim shook her head. "Nothing like that on their file. Anyway, we can assume these guys didn't have a problem working outside the system."

"So Pete, did you work with them?" Ron inquired as he dipped his fingers in a bowl of bar nuts.

"Nah, Feely uh…he didn't think I was tough enough. Besides him and Paul have been friends since they were in high school. Of course he'd partner up with Paul."

Kim cleared her throat. "And they were chipper because they got a case?"

Pete nodded. "I assume they got about a month or so after Feely came up with the idea. Their first and last one I suppose. It had Feely grinning from ear to ear for two weeks straight."

"Do you know what the job entailed?"

Pete shook his head. "No, and that's the God honest true. They must have done right by their client though, about a week before they died, they were walking around with pockets full of money."

"It's true, they came in the night before they died and brought a few rounds for everyone at the bar."

"Think back for a moment," Ron said. "Is there anything, anything you can remember, any small detail you can recall that could have hinted to, or gave you an idea of what their case was about?"

Pete shrugged weakly. "I always asked but Paul would brush me off or Feel would grin and say "It's all in the crisp."

Ron's eyebrow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"It's a slogan for a candy bar, 'Toffee Nutters'." Frank interjected. "They're released by the sugar refinery outside of town every Independence day. It's a well know fact Feely loved them, there wasn't a damn night he didn't squeeze them into any conversation."

"So you have no idea what this case was about?"

Pete shook his head vigorously.

Simultaneously Kim and Ron turned towards each other. "He's telling the truth" Ron told her.

"That your professional opinion?" Kim said with her right cocked.

Ron scooped the digital camera from his pocket and smiled. "Everything I say is my professional opinion A.P."

Kim stared at him skeptically before turning his attention back. "A few more questions sir."

Ron fiddled with camera before placing rear LCD screen before Pete. "Have you ever seen the young woman in this picture before?"

Pete studied for a second before scoffing. "Everyone in town knows who that is. That's Jake's Henry's daughter."

"Who?" Ron asked.

"Remember the sugar refinery I told you about earlier? Jake owns it."

"Oh really?"

Ron looked down at the camera. All of the pictures in the memory stick featured this one girl. There weren't many so Ron and Kim had cycled through the pictures a number of times before coming to the bar. Pictures of her shopping, at cheerleader practice, through windows, it was all very creepy. Half of the pictures featured her in various activities; the other half was of her kissing and holding hands with some young man in the woods.

"Paul and Feely, they, they were good people. Instead of harassing me, you should be out there finding out what happened to them?!" Pete shouted.

"That is exactly what we are doing sir." Kim told Pete.

Pete shook his head. Muttering obscenities to himself he plopped back on the bar stool he was sitting on before the agents had arrived.

"Hey" Ron showed Frank one of the kissing pics. "What about this dude?"

Frank didn't need more than brief glance.

"Hmmm, that's Kenny Bullard. But I must be drunker than Pete here to be seeing this, there's no way he could be kissing on that girl."

"Bullard?" Kim recalled the last name immediately. It also didn't make her feel better to see the expression on Ron's face. It was one of absolute bliss,

"Would he be related to Joe Bullard?" Ron asked.

"Kenny is Joe's son."

Ron nodded happily. "You showed genuine surprise at seeing these two together, why?"

"Cuz of her daddy. He's an over protective son of a gun and a ne'er do well like Kenny doesn't seem like the type that would impress that man."

"Is that so?" Ron looked at Kim. "Anything else?"

"No we're done here." Her attention went to frank than Pete. "I appreciate the cooperation."

"Do your jobs, or let someone else handle it!" Pete yelled out as she and Ron turned to leave.

"We will, and we'll do it right." Kim said as she shot a glance at Ron. "It's just a coincidence, that's all," she whispered to him.

"You think so?"

"Yes."

"A grin spread across Ron's face as he pushed through the exit. "Coincidences can be fun with an open mind."

A/N

Plot thickens. Yes, No. Maybe? Read and review.