(Haven/Dark Angel) trees that do not hide (1/2) for yanzadracan

[perdiccas]

Title: trees that do not hide
Author: kazzy
Fandoms: Haven and Dark Angel
Characters: Audrey, Nathan, Duke, Vince, Dave, Jordan, Claire, Dwight; Alec, Logan
Pairings: Alec/Logan, Nathan/Jordan
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 20,935
Spoilers: All of Dark Angel (show only); Haven up to 3x06
Warnings: Mild violence
Disclaimer: Haven and Dark Angel belong to their respective creators. The title is from the song “Wish” by Franka Potente.
A/N: In order to make this work, I’ve had to bend a few universes. This is story is set in the Dark Angel universe, but moved forward 10 years...ie the Pulse happened in 1999 and all the (DA) characters were born ten years earlier...so this story happens in 2010 (which is when Haven is set).
Thanks to forhimxx.

Summary: Logan and Alec’s first week in Haven went well. Their second not so much.


-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Prologue: Alec

Alec’s first look at Haven prompts the comment, “Do they even know that the Pulse happened?”

And it is true that on first glance Haven appears to be some pre-Pulse relic somehow caught unchanging in time. Most of the buildings are in good condition, and look to have been painted in the not-too-distant past. Lawns well-kept, trimmed by a combination of gardens, hedges and the occasional picket fence in good repair. The streets are clean and free of abandoned cars, household items and dead bodies, and the citizens seem unconcerned about wandering around at any time of day or night. To all appearances the local police, legal system and town council seem surprisingly free of corruption, while health care is easily obtained and costs are not bumped up by doctors requiring bribes.

Closer observation revealed that it is not quite the image that it projects. There are more shops boarded over and shut than open. Few people own cars. Most of the town income is completely dependent on what they refer to as ‘the summer people’ and wealthy farm owners. The infrastructure is completely unable to handle the sheer number of gas leaks, water contamination, and freak weather patterns that seemed to plague the town. Crime rates were low (some of the lowest in the country), but the number of people who were ‘lost at sea’ or killed in ‘tragic accidents’ was monumentally high.

And then there are the rumours of secret societies and gangs and the members of the church who suggest Logan and Alec should join so to limit their contact with certain ‘afflicted individuals’. Alec asks if he and Logan shouldn’t be considered ‘afflicted’, to which the confused church-goer blinks, asks ‘afflicted with what?’ and the conversation just disintegrates into confusion from there.

“Is the breeding cult active here or not?” he asks Logan later. “Because these guys certainly seem more interested in God than world domination.”

“I don’t know. But a lot of strange things happen here.”

“Hmmm,” says Alec because he actually was there for the previous three discussions on the weirdness of the weather patterns and frequent gas leaks. He still has another two to go before he gets roped into investigating, the only thing that has prevented it so far is Logan can’t actually find anything to investigate. If there are any secrets in this town they’re very well buried.

Alec kisses Logan briefly and heads to work.

-x-x-x-

Alec works at a restaurant/bar, The Grey Gull, and according to Logan its owner has a criminal record a mile long. Duke’s all right though, if you forgive the lack of dress sense. He also seems to know half the local police force, who have no qualms coming in for a meal or a drink or renting a room from Duke. But Alec is a judgement free zone - especially when the cops in question are as pretty Audrey Parker and Nathan Wuornos.

Logan insists there is no corruption, but Alec isn’t certain how the Chief of Police and a smuggler can be drinking buddies and there not be corruption. But again, he is not judging...not unless they are part of the breeding cult.

Serving drinks isn’t Alec’s first choice of career, but Haven doesn’t have a message service and there’s not a lot else in this town that he’s qualified to do. Nothing that he wants to admit to at any rate; nothing that won’t ultimately end him up in more trouble than he needs. Logan makes good money from the articles he writes, but it isn’t always regular work and they both need to eat. Haven has a newspaper, but it’s small enough that the owners have no need for any more contributors and claim not to have enough money to buy articles from anyone freelance.

Duke’s in fine form tonight, moving around the room, schmoozing his customers when the Chief of Police darkens the door, blond partner in tow. They make a beeline for Duke who stops what he’s doing, and turns to usher them over to a quiet corner.

Alec fixes a gin and tonic for a slightly tipsy older woman, accepts her cash and gives her change all without paying attention to what he’s doing. His focus is on the huddle in the corner. As he tunes his hearing into to catch what they’re saying, he’s careful not to look at them, focuses on fixing martinis for the pair of businesswomen at the bar with his hands, looks around the room, and notices he’s not the only one curious about the whispered conversation.

No one is staring outright, but tension is rolling off the three and it’s garnering attention. The murmur of voices rises and Alec catches phrases such as ‘troubles’, ‘this damned town’ and ‘cops hassling innocents instead of protecting them’ - none of which makes much sense to Alec given what he’s seen of Haven, but matches the weirdness that is becoming more and more apparent as the weeks pass. Of Duke’s conversation with the police, most of it is blocked by the noise of the diners, but he does hear ‘bolt-gun killer’ and files that away to ask Logan about later. After all his partner is keeping tabs on what goes on in this town.

It’s less than five minutes before the Chief leaves and the blond wanders over and orders a glass of wine from Alec. Duke resumes his cheerful circuit of the room, stopping at one table to answer a question, his words clearly floating back to the bar.

“Oh, you know the cops - always bothering honest business men.” He throws a grin to Audrey who rolls her eyes in response, but seems relatively unconcerned. Neither of them have quite managed to throw off the tension which hovered around their earlier conversation. The diners, however, have relaxed and returned to their meals.

An old man sitting at the bar chuckles, speaking half to Alec, half to Audrey. “That Nathan Wuornos and Duke Crocker been like that since they were kids. One minute thick as thieves, the next you were pulling one off the other.” He laughs again and smiles at the blond cop to his right. “It’s a brave woman that can come between those two, Officer Parker.”

Audrey laughs. “Nah, they’re both just kittens, really.” But Alec is adept at spotting liars - even very good ones - it’s all part of his training, and the heavy dose of survival instinct that he’s developed to help survive, first at Manticore, and then in a world that is increasingly hostile to transgenics. Audrey Parker is lying, but whether about whatever is going on between the smugger and the Chief of Police or something else, he isn’t quite sure.

All he knows is Audrey Parker drinks three glasses of wine and doesn’t speak to Duke again before heading up to her apartment above The Gull.

-x-x-x-

“What do you know about a ‘bolt-gun killer’?” Alec asks Logan that night. He doesn’t like it when he comes home and his partner is still awake, but he decides to make use of it.

“Serial Killer. Kills people with a bolt-gun. Three known victims. Haven PD has no leads, but has managed to somehow connect the case to an unsolved murder 27 years ago,” Logan rattles off obediently. “Why?”

“I overheard my boss talking to the Chief of Police about it.”

“Think he’s a suspect?” Logan perks up at the thought of delving more deeply into the mysteries and conspiracies of Haven.

Alec thinks back to the closed off postures of the three. They’d been shutting the rest of the world out, but not each other, and while their conversation may have been confidential none of them seemed to care who saw them talking together. “No,” he says.

“Interesting,” says Logan and begins to turn back to his computers.

“We’re not investigating tonight!” Already, it’s nearly 3am; Alec only needs a handful of hours sleep a night, but Logan gets cranky if he doesn’t get at least six hours.

And there will be plenty time in the morning to hack further into Haven PD’s database.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Day 1: Audrey

A cup of coffee is sitting on Audrey’s desk when she arrives at the station in the morning, just like every morning that she arrives after Nathan. She smiles wistfully, takes a sip, and wishes for years not days.

“Parker, we’ve got a call.” Nathan’s gone from her door before she can form a response.

Sighing she grabs the jacket she’s just hung up and clutching the coffee for dear life, she follows him out to his truck. He’s waiting for her impatiently and starts the engine as soon as she has her belt buckled. Her drink sloshes dangerously, but the lid keeps it from doing much more than spluttering at the opening.

“What’s the rush?” she says.

“Homicide.”

Audrey does not ask him if he thinks the body will get up and walk away before they get there, because that would be facetious and this is Haven. For all they know, the body may very well get up and walk away before they get there - they haven’t encountered a zombie Trouble yet so Audrey figures it is probably just a matter of time. But that still leaves one important detail out of the equation.

“Is it the bolt-gun killer?”

“Don’t know.”

He’s being even more mono-syllabic than usual, enough so that if she didn’t know better she’d think he’d been fighting with Duke again, but this reticence is her own doing. She’s the one who pushed him away and now he’s off making nice with the Guard.

They pull up to a small beach near the edge of town, not far from The Grey Gull. There’s already a handful of spectators hovering just outside of the cordon, toying with wanting to know what is going on and how they’re going to pretend it is normal, and Dr. Lucassi is kneeling over a body. He looks up as they approach but doesn’t bother to rise, continuing his initial examination of the victim.

She’s young, maybe early twenties, and dressed for a night out which clearly didn’t end as planned. She is lying stretched out on the beach where she fell forward, head turned to the side, one hand clawed into the sand as if she’d been trying to gain some kind of purchase on it. Across her face was a livid brand which took Audrey a moment to realise was in the shape of a hand print - any doubt that this was about the Troubles was immediately erased.

“Is it the bolt-gun killer?” Nathan asks.

Lucassi clears his throat slightly. “No, no indication that her killer used a weapon,” he confirms. “Can’t determine cause of death just yet, but it’s likely to be related to whatever did this.” He indicates the livid mark across her face. “I will test for pathogens, of course.” He adds almost as an afterthought.

The contents of the girl’s purse are found not far from her body, and despite being dropped and scattered nothing appears to be missing. She still has her wallet and driver’s licence - her name is Marie Lange, aged 25 a resident of Maine, if not Haven. Her phone indicates three missed calls, two from the same number - family, friends, work...someone misses her.

With a soft sigh, Audrey stands and takes one last look at the scene to see if she’s missed anything. Surprisingly she has: barely noticeable, nearly completely concealed but tucked behind Marie’s strappy top is the edge of a mark of some sort. She crouches down to have a better look, gently sliding the fabric back with the tip of a pen and when she sees what it is she sits back with a soft sigh and closes her eyes for a second.

“Of course,” she says quietly to herself. Then louder, “Nathan.”

Her partner is further up the beach, talking to people, gently trying to get those with a morbid interest to leave, and sort through those who might have information about Marie’s death. He turns at her call and comes over to see what she has found.

Stark against Marie’s pale skin is a tattoo. A maze with a person standing at each of the compass points: the mark that identifies the Guard. Unconsciously both of them glance at Nathan’s forearm, covered by his shirt sleeve, where his own tattoo is placed.

“This complicates things,” Nathan says unnecessarily.

-x-x-x-

“Officer Parker, is there any reason you can give for that poor girl’s death?”

Haven’s reporters number in exactly two, so Audrey turns around to deflect the questions of whichever Haven resident has decided to end their habitual silence on the subject of the Troubles. To her surprise she finds herself face to face with an unfamiliar man holding out a business card.

“Logan Cale,” he says.

She accepts the card, but doesn’t immediately look down at it. He is tall, attractive, with glasses and a faintly smug look she recognises from every reporter she’s ever met at any crime scene - one that Vince and Dave have down to a pat. She doesn’t need to read his card to know what his profession is, it’s written all over him.

“Mr. Cale,” she says in greeting. “Detective Bowen mentioned you.”

In fact, Tommy had managed a few dark suggestions about Cale’s lineage after the man had cornered him while dealing with a girl who turned inanimate objects into trees. Tommy already didn’t like dealing with the Troubled, and most residents had accepted his hasty explanation of ‘vandalism’ when three houses in the girl’s street were removed and replaced with pines. Cale had been dubious and pushed for further explanation, to which Tommy had not responded well.

“I’m sorry, at this time, we have no information to give out.” Which is true. Without knowing exactly what happened to Marie and whether or not it was her own Trouble or someone else’s that caused her death Audrey is reluctant to concoct a plausible story to explain it. Whatever she constructs could easily be contradicted when and if the next incident takes place - or by Nathan or the Teagues if they didn’t get their stories straight.

“No comment?” says Cale. “Another inexplicable death in Haven put down to an accident or freak weather pattern?”

“This is a third world country, Mr. Cale, inexplicable deaths happen all the time.” The last thing any of them need is someone from out of town stirring up problems, or digging into the Troubles.

“Not as often as in Haven - what is Haven PD covering up?”

Audrey draws in a deep breath to give a short reply - feeling a belated sense of camaraderie with Tommy - when Nathan appears at her elbow.

“Problem?” he partner asks.

“No,” says Audrey. “Mr. Cale had a few questions about our investigation and I told him I had no information to give out at this stage.” She turns back to the reporter. “Please excuse us.” She spins sharply and heads back to Nathan’s truck, not checking to see if he’s following.

“I am going to find out what’s going on,” Cale calls after them.

“Good.” Audrey mutters under her breath, sliding into the passenger seat and slamming the door. “Great. Just what we need.”

On the driver’s side, Nathan mirrors her movements. “Problem?” he asks again.

She watches Cale enter his own vehicle, taking note of The Gull’s newest bartender (Alan? Alex?) sitting on the passenger side, watching her and Nathan just as intently as she is them.

“Maybe,” she replies, and makes a note to investigate exactly who Logan Cale is and what he’s doing with one of Duke employees.

-x-x-x-

Marie Lange’s family is understandably distraught to hear of her death, but less surprised than they should be when Audrey and Nathan come to tell them of it.

As it turns out Marie had been distant for the last few weeks, starting when she broke up with her girlfriend. She had started hanging around new people, who she was very secretive about, and spending less time with her family and being snappish when she did come to see them. She’d upgraded the security on her apartment and had not let anyone visit her there. It wasn’t drugs, when they’d confronted her about it she had promised, sworn, that she wasn’t taking drugs - she’d even laughed at them - and Marie was a terrible liar.

“Do you think this had anything to do with her girlfriend?” asks Audrey gently.

“Oh, no, Sandy’s such a lovely girl. A nurse at the hospital, she wouldn’t hurt a fly - let alone Marie,” says Mrs. Lange, Marie’s mother. “She was heartbroken when Marie ended it, she even came to see us to ask us to help convince Marie to take her back...”

“Was Marie Troubled?” Nathan asks.

“Do you have a pen, Chief?” asks Mr. Lange, seemingly out of nowhere.

Audrey passes hers over to Mr. Lange, who holds it between his thumb and forefinger for a second before passing it back. “Try and write with it,” he says.

She pulls out a pad of paper and scribbles on it, surprised to find it completely dry; she looks up at Mr. Lange in confusion.

“That’s it. Irritating but not something to kill for...I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt Marie for that,” he says.

“What do you know about the Guard?” Audrey asks.

“The Guard? What’s that?” asks Mrs. Lange. “A gang? Is that what Marie was involved with?”

“No,” says Audrey. “Not at all.”

“Thank you for your help,” says Nathan and he leads Audrey out of the house.

“You shouldn’t have mentioned the Guard,” he says as they climb down the stairs.

“Why not?” asks Audrey.

“You don’t know what they’ll do with that information.”

“And if they can help with our investigation into Marie’ s death?” she asks.

He doesn’t have an answer for her.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Day 1: Logan

Logan rubs his face, slightly embarrassed at his own unprofessionalism as he watches Officer Parker and Chief Wuornos leave the scene of Marie’s death. While irritating the local police force is not something that bugs him usually, and is still not at the top of his list of concerns, there is something about this town that just doesn’t add up.

Every bit of research he’s managed to pull about this town, every bit of digging he’s done suggests no real corruption. He’s interviewed locals - half of who sing the praises of Nathan Wuornos and Audrey Parker, and the other half who mutter ‘that kind of folk should be driven out of town’. No one is very clear on what kind of people they’re talking about - they’re just very clear that Wuornos is one of them.

“What was that about?” Alec asks. “Wasn’t it you who told me to stay out of trouble?”

“Alec...”

“No, I mean it. In Seattle you could be big bad ass cyber journalist without too many people noticing you were a little odd. But here if you start acting weird, people will notice.”

“There’s something big, though, can’t you feel it? Just beneath the surface? And it all seems to be centred around the police force.”

“Could be just the serial killer they’ve got,” Alec suggests, tone clipped. He’s not looking at Logan, instead staring out the passenger window.

“Maybe,” Logan admits. “But maybe it’s the breeding cult?”

“And what if it is? What if you’re stirring up trouble? They know who we are, Logan. What happens when they come calling?”

“They don’t know where we are.”

“Yet. But if you keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong...”

The rest of the car ride home is silent.

-x-x-x-

Logan is aware of the owners of the Haven Herald of course, but he hasn’t had much need to seek them out before now. The paper mostly seems to present a charmingly edited version of whatever is happening in the town - something that the locals soak up like water as they look away from the strange deaths and houses being replaced by trees. Whatever it is that’s keeping the police silent has also muffled the Herald. Free press is just as much an illusion in Haven as it is in the rest of the country.

“Well, lookee here Vince, Haven’s new journalist’s come knocking at last!” said the smaller of the two men as Logan enters the Herald’s premises. He stops swinging on his chair as the larger of the two turns around from whatever he’s been fishing for in a side cabinet. “What can we do for you Mr. Cale?”

For a moment, Logan is fooled by the way they beam at him in confusion, as if they can’t quite figure out why he’s turned up in their office. But then he recalls the carefully edited fictions printed in the paper, so neatly done that there’s nothing out of place. A little too neat perhaps, but not apparent until you put it all together and the picture becomes realistic.

He folds his arms across his chest, shifts his weight so his feet are a little further apart. “I want to know exactly what is going on in this town,” he says. Given the cheerful way they dance around the truth in their articles, he suspects if he’s going to get anything at all from them it will be only through direct questioning.

“Whatever do you mean?” Vince’s smile suggests a hint of senility.

“There’s a lot of strange things happening in this town that the police and this paper seem intent on covering up. I want to know why.”

“You’re from Seattle, aren’t you?” the smaller one - Dave, Logan thinks - asks.

He really shouldn’t be surprised that they’ve done their research on him, but as small as Haven is, it’s not that small and they can’t keep track of every person who arrives in town. Now he worries what else they might have on him, on Alec, what they might have managed to find out.

“Yes. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” He rocks back on his heels and drops his hands to check his phone is in easy reach.

“Big city with all those check points and sector police - not to mention the high crime rate. It’s easy to see why somewhere like Haven might be a little disconcerting,” says Vince.

“It’s a big change to make,” agrees Dave. “What made you choose Haven, Mr. Cale?”

Logan blinks. When did it all become about him? “My partner and I needed to get away.” He says evenly, trying not to give away what exactly they were getting away from.

“Of course!” says Vince. “All those transgenics that escaped. That would make life very stressful.”

“They weren’t the problem.” Logan’s tone is sharper than he’d like, but he’s not about to let slide the fact that the entire country believes transgenics to be monsters when they really aren’t.

“You know,” says Dave, leaning forward. “I bet our readers’d be real interested in an insider’s point of view if you’re willing to give an interview.”

Logan is hardly interested in spilling his story (or Alec’s, or Max’s, or any of his transgenic friends’) to some small town rag, even for the positive exposure, but that isn’t what catches his attention. “What do you think I know?”

“You are from Seattle,” Vince points out. “You had front row seats. All we have out here is second hand news filtered through the official media - and you know how accurate that is.”

Logan does. He is after all known as a cyber-terrorist in some circles because of his desire to tell the truth and not what authorities deem to be the truth.

“Terrible business,” says Dave. “We remember news was actually news and not fiction, don’t we Vince?”

“That’s right, we do.”

“It’s funny you should say that,” Logan uses their comments to pick his own thread, “because your paper seems to tell some interesting stories.”

“I don’t think I like what you’re implying,” Dave says now. “We tell the stories as we see them.”

“And you’re not writing what the cops tell you to write?”

“Absolutely not!” Vince’s indignant tone does not appear to be faked in anyway. “As if Nathan Wuornos could dictate to us!”

“As if Nathan would! Just like his father that one,” says Dave a little fondly. “Garland was a good man.”

“The Haven Herald maintains its journalistic integrity at all times,” affirms Vince. “You’ll have to excuse us Mr. Cale. We’ve enjoyed meeting you very much, but we do have work to do. Evening edition won’t publish itself.”

“Make sure you come back for that interview,” calls Dave as Logan finds himself walking out the door and into the street.

He blinks in the bright morning sun, not entirely sure what happened or how two apparently bumbling old men managed to deflect him quite so easily. What he is sure of however, is that there is a lot more going on in Haven that meets the eye.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Day 1: Duke

Duke is at The Gull tidying up some accounting when he hears a car pull up and moments later a door slam. He isn’t really paying attention as it is nearly time for his evening staff to begin trickling in for their shifts.

“Hey Duke.”

He glances up to see his favourite member of law enforcement entering. “Officer Parker!” he says cheerfully, glad to see her. Life has been unkind to them recently and she doesn’t have much time left - he’s going to take whatever time he has with her. But her expression which has become characteristically grim recently is even more so now. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.” He places a hand on his heart. “Honest, law abiding citizen that I am.”

He almost thinks he sees a smile grace her features, but the lightness is gone almost as quickly as it appears. “Can I ask you a few questions?” She slides into a bar stool across from him and he automatically pours her a diet coke which she accepts gratefully - some routines are natural to them by now.

“Go ahead.”

“A woman was found murdered not far from here this morning. We think she died late last night,” Audrey says bluntly, eyes fixed on him.

Duke fights back the urge to deny it hotly, to point out he has enough blood on his hands and if Haven PD is going to use him as an assassin they don’t get to run around throwing unfounded accusations at him when convenient. He takes a deep breath, and tries to let it go: if he were truly a suspect, Nathan would be here with Audrey and he’d be the one throwing around accusations.

Something must catch Audrey attention, or maybe it’s her guilty conscience, because she reaches out and touches his hand. “No one thinks you killed her Duke, but the victim might have been here last night and we want to know if you remember anything.”

“Nothing out of the usual,” he says, meaning it. The most interesting thing that had happened the night before was Nathan and Audrey with a brief update on the bolt-gun killer - signifying that Duke was back in the loop with Haven’s weirdness, whether he wanted to be or not.

She pulls out a photo and hands it to him. A woman stares back at him, light hair and eyes, vaguely familiar, but he doesn’t recognise her - she could have been here last night, but he could have seen three days ago while grocery shopping or anywhere really - and he tells Audrey as much.

Watching him carefully, she takes out a second photo and hands it to him. “She had the tattoo on her back.”

Duke can’t quite stop the flash of fear and disgust when he sees the mark staring back him, an omen of death that will presumably be the last thing he sees. He swallows compulsively and shakes his head, refusing to take the picture.

“I’m not big on letting the Guard in here,” he points out. “And I think most of them stay away from me on principle.”

Audrey accepts this easily. “Can I have a list of your staff who were working last night?”

“You may as well wait - most of them will be in soon,” he tell her.

She nods and sits back, taking a sip of her drink, closing her eyes for a second. The lines under eyes are a little darker today and he thinks she might be losing weight - he hasn’t seen her in The Gull for a meal recently, just drinks, and while he knows she’s an able cook that doesn’t actually means she’s actually feeding herself. He has a sudden urge to offer to fix her something.

“Hey Audrey...” he begins.

“Hmm,” she says, tilting her head back to him and fixing him with look that’s becoming common these days - weary and unhappy.

But before he can suggest anything the door opens as the first of his staff walks in - his new bartender, Alec.

“Hey, Boss. Officer,” he greets.

“Alec - you’ve met Officer Parker, right?” Duke asks. He’s almost certainly served her drinks at some point.

“Sure,” says Alec easily, but he doesn’t come over the bar the where Duke and Audrey are, instead hovering between them and the door.

“She’s going to be asking everyone a few questions - a woman who was murdered may have been here last night.”

“The girl they found on the beach this morning?” Alec asks, surprising Duke, but not Audrey who nods.

“You were there, this morning, weren’t you?” she asks.

Alec’s eyes flicker to the door and sweep the room. “My partner’s a reporter,” he agrees. “I came along for the ride.”

Audrey slides off her bar stool and moves closer to Alec who doesn’t seem inclined to join them at all. “Do you know her?” she passes him the picture. “Marie Lange.”

“I think she’s been in a few times for dinner,” he says frowning at the picture. “But I never spoke to her.”

“She never ordered any drinks?”

Alec shakes his head. “Boyfriend did all the ordering.”

“Boyfriend?” Audrey asks.

“Yeah. Tall guy, blond, heavy set, older. Didn’t act like her dad.” He shrugs, visibly relaxing a little.

“Would you be able to describe him to a sketch artist?” Audrey asked.

“Sure,” Alec agrees. “Is that all?”

“Just a couple more questions.” She offers him the picture of Marie’s tattoo. “Do you recognise this?” she asks. Duke watches him carefully, looking for any sign of recognition, resisting the urge to look down at Alec’s forearm - the guy is wearing short sleeves and there’s no trace of anything there.

Alec’s confusion seems genuine as he denies knowing anything about it. “Sorry, no.”

“How about the Guard?” Audrey is studying Alec just as carefully as Duke.

“No...” says Alec. “Is this some kind of gang killing or something?”

“We don’t know who or what killed her,” says Audrey. “Just trying to find that out.”

“Right. I’m sorry I can’t help you. I need to get ready for my shift.” He edges away from her and heads for the back room.

Audrey turns and looks at Duke, who shrugs at her, but before either of them can comment the three servers walk in and Audrey is engaged in questioning them and then the rest of Duke’s staff as they trickle in for the evening. Duke doesn’t interrupt, but he does stay in earshot. The testimonies generally confirm what Alec has told Audrey about Marie Lange’s companion, though none of the others feel confident enough to sit for a sketch artist.

Once she’s done, Duke walks Audrey to her car. “Thanks Duke,” she says and unlocks the door, opening it before pausing. “Are any of them Troubled?” she asks.

Duke frowns and turns away from her to look at The Gull for a second before facing her again. The question irritates him, but that’s not her fault. “People aren’t exactly lining up to tell me their Troubles, Audrey. But, no, far as I know, not.”

She nods. “Thanks,” she says again. She gets into the car and shits her door, but before she can drive off, Duke remembers something.

She rolls the window down and looks at him inquiringly. “Yeah?”

“Come by later and I’ll make sure you get a decent dinner.”

“Why?”

“You’re looking scrawny.” Her eyes narrow. “Not that you don’t look good,” he corrects. “I just thought...you’ve got a lot on your mind...I thought you’d appreciate someone else taking care of the cooking.”

“I’m fine, Duke,” she says using a tone he’s seen crack hardened criminals at twenty paces.

He winces. “Didn’t say that you weren’t. Just think about it, okay.”

After a moment, she nods. “Okay.” She puts the car in reverse, leaving him standing alone.

“Does that mean ‘okay, you want dinner’ or ‘okay you’ll think about it’?” he calls after her, before she’s got too far away to hear him.

Audrey just sticks a hand out her window and waves.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Day 2: Nathan

Nathan had planned on stopping by the Haven Herald first thing in the morning to see if Vince and Dave have any information on the Trouble that killed Marie Lange - and to see if he could worm it out of them. However, after a night where he got little sleep he decides that the Teagues can wait until he’s had some coffee and talked to Audrey (he’s still allowed to talk to her, she’s still his partner and he’ll cling to that if that’s all he has).

When he reaches the station, it turns out that he made the right choice - even if it means facing the brothers before he’s had a coffee- and Audrey-fix. Vince is there drawing a sketch for a witness that Audrey’s pulled in, with Dave hovering nearby as the two trade insults with each other. He makes himself a cup of coffee in the station’s kitchenette and one for Audrey as well as if she’s come in a little early she’s going to want some extra caffeine to get through the morning. Plus it’s one of the few non-work, non-Trouble part of their friendship left.

She mouths ‘thank you’ at him as he sets the cup down in front of her and almost smiles before gently redirecting Vince’s attention away from shooting down Dave’s suggestions and back to the witness - the new bartender from The Gull - and his description of the man with Marie the night she died. She grimaces slightly as she sips the coffee and catches his eye mouthing ‘hot’ at him. He nods gratefully and resolves to give it a few minutes before drinking his own; he might not be able to feel it, but burns to the lips or mouth did actually make eating inconvenient.

He’s almost at his door when his name is called. “Chief Wuornos, a moment of your time.”

He turns to find himself face to face with the same reporter that both Audrey and Tommy have come up against recently. The one who had been at the murder scene the previous day with the bartender who was currently working with Audrey and Vince. Cale, his name was.

“Mr. Cale. I’m not currently discussing the case with the press,” he says firmly and turns back in to catch up on some of the ever present paper work that had a tendency to pile up on his desk when dealing with the Troubles.

“I just thought you’d like to know about four people - including one child - in Chicago last month whose manner of death match that of Marie Lange. Right down to one of the victims having the same tattoo.” Cale’s tone is matter of fact, if a little smug, which Nathan privately admits he has a right to be - Haven PD has not managed to pick up on that piece of information.

He regards the other man for a moment, glances over to where his partner is still wrangling her witness and Vince and Dave before stepping into his office and holding his door open. “Come in.”

“Thank you.”

Nathan shuts the door behind them both and takes a seat behind his desk, setting his coffee cup to one side with only a brief sense of regret that he can’t throw it back now. He indicates that Cale should take the seat opposite and waits until the reporter is settled before making a start.

“What do you know?”

“I want an exclusive when you catch the killer.”

“No.” If Nathan isn’t giving information to Vince and Dave who won’t print anything about the Troubles, he certainly isn’t giving any to an out of town reporter who won’t have the same scruples. “And if you withhold anything relevant to this case, rest assured Haven PD will press charges.”

To his surprise Cale nods and sits back, relaxing minutely. He pulls a folder out of the case he’s brought with him. “Normally, I wouldn’t bother approaching the police, but I’ve been told that there’s no corruption in this town.”

“There had better not be,” Nathan growls. A couple of months prior to Audrey coming to town, Nathan’s father had found several of his officers taking bribes. The former Chief had been ruthless in rooting out those who’d taken part and making sure they received the longest possible sentence for their crimes. When he’d taken the job after his father’s death, Nathan had been sure to make it clear he would do the same if he found it happening on his watch.

Now, he flips open the folder to find details that Cale should not have access to, but could have taken him weeks to locate, thanks to the breakdown in communication caused by the Pulse. Two men, a woman and a five year old girl were all found dead in a suburban home, all having suffered the same type of brain aneurism that Marie had, all had the same brand across the face. One of the men - the only unidentified victim - did indeed have the tattoo that in Haven would have identified him as being a member of the Guard.

“Where did you find this?” he asks.

“I have sources that the police have no access to - sources that will dry up if they think the police are involved.”

It reminds Nathan of the kind of thing that Duke might say about some of his ‘imports’ and it’s enough that Nathan kind of wants to slap some cuffs on Cale and throw him in jail. However, Cale didn’t have to share the information he found, admitted in fact that he normally wouldn’t, and Haven’s climate of secrets and the country’s level of corruption this is valuable. Not to mention that if Cale is smart enough to find this information, he’s smart enough to make sure there’s no evidence to convict him. Just like Duke.

“Thank you,” is all he says instead.

Cale accepts this with a nod and watches Nathan just long enough that he think he’s going to have suggest that he has work to do and that the journalist should go about his day when the man speaks up.

“What’s the Guard?” he says. Nathan would be impressed at Cale’s research skills but is too busy being surprised. “And what connection do they have to that tattoo?”

“Every town has its own urban legends,” he says flatly.

“Urban legends that have tattoos?”

Nathan’s glad his own is covered by his shirt sleeve. If Cale can pick up on details like this so quickly then the last thing any of them need is Logan adding fuel to the fire by having him see the tattoo on the Chief of Police.

“It is a design popular with tattoo artists in town.” Nathan stands up. “Mr. Cale, thank you for your help, but I do have a murder investigation to run. If you would excuse me. I can’t discuss this case further without jeopardising it.”

“If this town is so free of corruption, why are there so many secrets?” Cale stands, posture tense, eyes flashing, fingers flexing. The question however, seems rhetorical as he turns and stride out with long, jerking steps.

Nathan can understand his frustration, but really it is better for everyone if Logan Cale doesn’t get himself involved with Haven’s mysteries and Troubles.

At his door his next headache is waiting - Vince and Dave - and on days like this he’s almost sure that he can feel the throbbing. The two scurry in, looking pleased with themselves and sit down across the desk from him, mercifully holding back their questions long enough for him to get his own asked.

“What do you know about those two...Cale and...uh...” Audrey had told him the name of the bartender... “Alec McDowell.”

“Odd couple,” says Dave. “Moved here from Seattle.”

Nathan folds his hands in front of him and leans forward, he’s used the Teagues careful brief answers and he knows he won’t get everything he wants, but with any luck he can push for more than they’re willing to give. “Odd how?”

“Well, that’s where the transgenics ended up, didn’t they?” says Vince.

Nathan’s seen the news and it almost made him grateful for the Troubles. Superhuman, super soldiers...super Troubled, more like. He’s neck deep in Troubles and Haven intrigue as it is, the last thing he needs is for something like that to turn up in town.

“Do you think either of them are transgenic?” he asks.

“Cale, isn’t,” says Dave. “Old money - or was. Family lost everything in that scandal with the killer hoverdrones. A lot of his relatives landed in jail over that. He’s clean, though. Squeaky almost.”

“The boy on the other hand, Alec,” says Vince as he leans forward, lowering his voice a touch. “There’s no record on where he came from.”

“Place like Seattle would attract a lot of drifters, homeless,” Dave reminds his brother.

“True,” says Vince. “So does Haven.” They chuckle a little to themselves.

Nathan doesn’t bother asking what fallen old money is doing with a drifter a decade his junior; from his brief exposure to both of them he hasn’t noticed anything untoward. He will check in with Audrey to see if she’s picked up on anything, and maybe get her to ask Claire to discretely see if she can get a read on them.

“Are they Troubled?” is what he does ask.

“No idea,” says Dave with a slight shrug.

There’s a slight pause as the brothers exchange a glance and Nathan knows what is coming next.

“Quid pro quo, Nathan - those were your terms,” Vince reminds him.

Audrey is going to kill him for what he’s about to reveal, but he’s willing to take his chances because if he gambles this he might just pull up something concrete. “The Colorado Kid is James Cogan.”

Both Dave and Vince are too good to show anyone a reaction they don’t want them to see - their every move is calculated. But this time it’s their complete and utter lack of reaction that tells Nathan what he wants to know. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“So Audrey remembered something,” says Dave his tone mild, but he isn’t asking a question. “Lucy never talked about him, never said how she knew him - never told us his name.”

“And yet somehow you knew he was from Colorado?”

“Don’t quite recall how we came by that piece of information,” says Vince. “Dave?”

“No idea,” says Dave brightly. “If that’s all?”

Nathan swipes his hand across his eyes and doesn’t groan out loud - though it’s a close thing. “Just go.” Nor does he add ‘before I shoot you both’.

They both hurry out of his office and he watches them go before calling out for his partner. On his desk sits his coffee and he’s grateful that he can’t tell if it’s too cold drink.

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Day 2: Alec

Alec follows a clearly irritated Logan out of Haven police station to the car. Clearly the Chief of Police has been as forthcoming with information as the rest of his officers and Logan hasn’t managed to unearth any of Haven’s secrets. To give the town their credit, they are really good at hiding things to the point where it is plainly obvious that they are hiding something, but no one seems to have even the slightest idea what.

Take that tattoo for instance. When he’d asked around at The Gull the night before what it was and who the ‘Guard’ were, most of the serving and kitchen staff had looked at him blankly and told him they had no idea. A couple had thrown slight nervous glances in their boss’ direction, but had seemed genuine in their ignorance. When Alec had questioned Duke, the other man had clapped him on the shoulder, told him that he was better off ‘staying out of Haven conspiracies’ and poured himself a large drink.

He comes out of his musings to realise that Logan is three strides ahead of him and covering ground fast. “Hey,” he calls. “Slow down, will ya?”

Alec could easily catch Logan if he chose, but he doesn’t see why he should strain himself, so he’s gratified to see his partner slow down and pause. Logan doesn’t turn around but he does wait until Alec comes up beside him and modifies his pace to match. But that doesn’t stop him from clenching his teeth or flexing his fingers and it takes him two attempts to free his keys from his pocket.

Alec waits until they are both seated in the car before he speaks. “Didn’t tell you anything, huh?”

“I gave him that file on the murders in Chicago, but he didn’t even bat an eyelid. Thanked me for my help and refused to answer any of my questions.” He starts the car and pulls them out in the main road, making Alec glad they now live in a quiet town without much traffic. Maybe he should offer to drive?

“You didn’t get anything, then?” he asks. Transgenics, X5s in particular, are built to be as close to indestructible as possible, so he’ll probably survive a head on collision.

Logan breaks sharply for a red light. “Not quite. When I asked about the Guard and the tattoo he threw up all sorts of road blocks. There’s definitely something there. Whatever is going on in this town is definitely centred around whatever they are.”

“Do you think there’s been a cover up by the police?” The puzzle and conspiracies seem to have calmed Logan down a little and Alec no longer fears for his life.

“I don’t think Chief Wuornos knows how to break the law,” snorts Logan. “If he’s covering something up, it’s because he’s trying to protect someone or something in this town. Lawfully.”

“Like witness protection or something more sinister?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know you’re not making a lot of sense, right?”

“This town doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why would an honest cop and two journalists who get all flustered about ‘journalistic integrity’ be hiding some big dark secret?”

“You got me.” Alec is designed to be a genius, but sometimes he struggles to follow the twists that Logan’s mind takes.

“I need to find out what Nathan Wuornos is hiding.” And then sometimes it’s all too clear to Alec exactly what his partner is thinking.

“I’m not going to break into the police station for you,” Alec says as they pull into their driveway.

“I didn’t-”

“I know how your brain works, Logan. And don’t get me wrong, it’s brilliant and I love it, but I’m not going to break into the police station. Because they will catch me. This isn’t Seattle - bribes and jail breaks won’t work here. And even if they do, we will have to leave. I don’t want to find somewhere else to live. I like it here. I like my job. I like the people. I want to stay.”

He turns back to Logan who is watching him with a slight frown. “Understood.” Long fingers reach out and tilt Alec’s face in Logan’s direction as the other man leans in for a kiss, it’s brief but warm and pleasant. Alec lets his eyes drop closed for a second to enjoy the moment.

Logan steps back, but takes Alec’s hand in his own. “I’m glad you’re happy here,” he says. “I’m just...”

“Having trouble letting secrets rest?” Alec suggests allowing himself a touch of amusement at Logan’s frustration at the puzzle he can’t quite figure out.

“Something like that,” Logan mutters.

“Logan Cale crusader of truth and justice,” Alec muses and recognises it as something he’s probably picked up from Max at some point - a fact highlighted by Logan’s grimace but the thought does lighten the journalist’s mood to a certain degree. “I do want to help - I just don’t want to get arrested.”

“Backing down from a challenge?” Logan teases. “Who are you and what have you done with Alec?”

“Must be getting wise in my old age.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“Yeah,” agrees Alec as he follows Logan up the steps into the house. “But I’m still hanging out with you, though, aren’t I?”

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Day 2: Audrey

Sandy Castellano lives in a pleasant two storey house on a street near the edge of town and heading up into the hills. It’s an upmarket neighbourhood, home to some of Haven’s wealthier residents - well outside of a nurse’s salary. So it’s not a surprise when the door is opened by Sandy’s father.

Mr. Castellano looks at them dourly when they introduce themselves but show Nathan and Audrey into the living room, where a young woman - presumably Sandy - is being comforted by woman close enough in age and appearance to be her sister. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, but she doesn’t appear to be crying currently.

“Cops want to talk to you about Marie,” he tells Sandy sharply.

Sandy takes one look at Audrey and Nathan standing behind her father and nods and sits up a little but doesn’t let go of her sister’s hand. “Okay,” she says. “Please come in and sit down. Dad, will you fix us some tea?”

The man in question agrees as Audrey and Nathan settle themselves down across from Sandy and her sister. Covering the surface of the coffee table are dozens and dozens of pictures of Marie - many with Sandy in them.

At the kitchen door Mr. Castellano turns back. “My Sandy’s been through enough, don’t go making things worse for her, now.”

“We just want to ask her a few questions,” Audrey says soothingly.

“They just want to help Dad, it’s fine,” says Sandy, wiping a hand across her cheek. Her sister hands her a tissue which she accepts to wipe her eyes. She looks up at Audrey and Nathan and even through a fresh wave of tears her voice is firm. “I want to help find whoever hurt Marie.”

“Do you know if she had any enemies?” Nathan asks gently.

“She didn’t use to have any before she started hanging around with those people.” Sandy draws in a deep shuddering breath and her sister frowns.

“What people?” asks Audrey. “The Guard?” Nathan shifts slightly, but he’s too much a professional to show his annoyance with Audrey’s line of questioning.

Surprisingly enough, though, Sandy is nodding. “Yeah them and their stupid tattoos. I told her that picking sides would just get her hurt. I didn’t think...” she hiccups and accepts some fresh tissues.

“Is that what you fought about?” asks Nathan.

“Yeah. She told me I’d already picked a side, and that she was only doing this out of self-preservation.”

“What did she mean by that?” asks Audrey.

“We’re members of Good Shepherd Church,” says the sister, speaking up for the first time.

“I can see from your faces what you think,” says Sandy sitting up and squaring her shoulders. “But it’s not like that. I know what Reverend Driscoll used to say about...people like Marie, but not everyone agreed with him.”

“Some of us are even glad he’s gone,” says the sister.

“Rosa,” growls Sandy. “But she’s right. Reverend Alfero is a much more reasonable man. And I tried to explain that to Marie, but she wouldn’t listen. She said I had to choose religion or her and when I said it didn’t have to be that way, she said I’d made my choice and that she didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“And that was it?” asks Audrey.

Sandy shakes her head. “I tried calling her a bunch of times, even tried to catch her at work a couple of times, but she wouldn’t talk to me. Said it was over. Oh, God, I never got to tell her how much I loved her.” She wraps her free arm around her stomach and rocks back and forward a couple of times.

“Sandy, I know this is difficult, but we just have a few more questions,” Nathan says gently.

Mr. Castellano returns to the room, carrying a delicate tray and china set that look incongruous in his large hands, but he carefully passes everyone a cup and saucer of tea. Audrey and Nathan’s come with a hard look, when he sees how distressed his daughter has become.

“Are you or anyone in your family Troubled?” If they attended Good Shepherd Church then probably not, but it always paid to be sure.

“No,” grumbles Mr. Castellano. “Not this family. We’re not freaks.”

“Dad!” snaps Rosa. “Marie wasn’t a freak - she loved Sandy.” Mr. Castellano subsides under the force of the glares both his daughters give him, sipping his tea in silence.

“Do any of you recognise this man?” Audrey asks, passing them a copy of the sketch that Vince drew under Alec’s direction earlier.

“It kinda looks like Steven Jonkers - from church,” says Sandy, voice shaky but under control. “He was a friend of Reverend Driscoll’s, but not one of the ones ranting about ‘cleansing’ Haven. Why? Do you think he’s the one who hurt Marie?” there’s an edge to her tone in her last sentence.

“We’re just following a lead,” Nathan says mildly. “Do you know why Marie might have been having dinner with him the night before he died?”

“Marie?” says Sandy. “No? Why would...? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t know.” She dissolves into tears again.

“I think that’s enough,” says Mr. Castellano. “If that’s all, Chief?”

Nathan nods and stands up, Audrey follows suit, but turns to Sandy. “Thank you for your help.”

They’re almost at the door when Sandy calls out to them. “Chief Wuornos? Officer Parker? When you catch him, make him pay for he did to Marie? I want him to suffer.”

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In Nathan’s truck, Audrey sighs. “It’s like some sort of modern day Romeo and Juliet, but with murder, not suicide.”

Nathan huffs a little at her statement and for a moment it feels like old times when they were just partners battling the Troubles without the Guard and the Hunter stretching a void between them.

“Do you think Sandy Castellano had anything to do with Marie’s death?” Nathan asks her.

Audrey thinks back to the distraught young woman being fussed over by her worried father and sister. She is so clearly heartbroken that Audrey can’t picture her hurting her ex-girlfriend. “No,” she says. “You?”

“No,” agrees Nathan. “Might be an idea to ask Claire to look in on her, though.”

Humming in agreement, Audrey asks her partner. “Should we go and check out Steven Jonkers?” she asks.

“I’m meeting Jordan in 20 minutes,” Nathan says.

“Oh, okay.” Audrey can’t quite suppress the way her stomach twists at the mention of the woman he’s seeing. She turns and focuses out the window and attempts not to come off as resentful - he’s allowed to see other women, especially women who will be around long after Audrey’s gone.

“I have some questions for her about Marie’s involvement in the Guard,” Nathan says and because she can’t see his face she can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Of course,” says Audrey feeling a mixture of jealousy and foolishness.

They ride back to the station in silence.

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Steven Jonkers doesn’t answer his phone, he hasn’t been in to work for three days and when Audrey heads around to his house, it’s all shut up and no one answers the door. The picture this suggests is that Jonkers did kill Marie - or was involved in some way - and has run off to avoid being caught. But there is no proof, and despite all evidence to the contrary, belonging to Good Shepherd Church does not count as probable cause.

On a whim she decides to stop by the church and see if the new Reverend can provide her with any information. She hasn’t been there since before the Rev’s death and she isn’t quite prepared for the spike of anxiety she feels as she pulls up in her car and crosses the lawn to the church door. The Rev was a terrible person and she doesn’t regret killing him to save Amelia Benton, doesn’t even regret that it meant very obviously choosing a side in Haven’s battle (but then her side was chosen a long time ago, by Lucy, by Sarah, by someone she hasn’t heard of yet). But that doesn’t change the fact that a good number of the Rev’s followers would have liked to see her punished for what she did.

The church is unlocked and she pushes the door open easily and steps inside. She is not struck down by a bolt of lightning, so she takes that as a positive start. A man she recognises as Reverend Alfero is at the altar replacing candles, he turns as she shuts the door and smiles at her.

“Officer Parker, it’s good to see you,” he says warmly, and it’s about as far from the reaction she expected that she stops in surprise.

“Is it?” she says.

“I know you’ve had differences with members of the congregation before, but that doesn’t mean you’re not welcome in God’s house.” Finished with the candles he steps towards her, the warm smile never leaving his face.

Oddly disturbed Audrey has to prevent herself from fleeing the church and not coming back without Nathan to back her up. ‘Differences’ isn’t what she’d call the deaths of the Rev, Evi or Kyle Hopkins, or what she’d call the war being waged by the Troubled, the Guard and this church. But she reaches behind her and brushes her fingers against the wood of the door and takes a deep breath.

“I have a few questions about the death of Marie Lange, if you don’t mind?” she asks.

“Of course, such a terrible tragedy, a young girl like that. Whatever I can do to help. Though I’m not sure how, I didn’t know her at all. She was, I believe, in a relationship with one of my parishioners, Sandy Castellano?”

Her heartbeat slows as Audrey recognises that he’s genuine in his desire to help. “We’ve spoken to Sandy and she was able to identify someone from your congregation who was with Marie just hours before she died.”

She takes out a DMV picture of Steven Jonkers. “Do you recognise this man?”

“Oh, yes. Uh...Jonkers, I believe his name is...Oh, Steve? Steven? You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve only spoken to him a couple of times. I’m still learning the names of my congregation. My understanding is that he may have been a friend of Reverend Driscoll’s? He doesn’t come to church regularly anymore.” His forehead pulls down a little as he contemplates the picture.

“Could you tell me anything about family or friends anyone he might go to if he were in trouble?” she asks.

“No, sorry, I really didn’t know him well.”

“Thank you for your help,” says Audrey. Despite the fact that Reverend Alfero seems like an ordinary, kindly man of God she’s still not comfortable in this building and she glad to be leaving.

“Of course, Officer Parker. Please remember that you’re always welcome in these walls. Both God and myself would be glad to see you here - and it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks, does it?”

“I suppose not,” Audrey mumbles, and closes the door behind her taking in a deep breath of fresh air before heading back to her car and back to the station.

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On to Part 2!