The Man Who Sold The World

The uniform had balls.

"I'm sorry, I think you're confusing that with a request. Take me to the lead detective, now officer or I'll have you busted back down to traffic duty so fast you won't even notice you left this hotel."

There was the fear in his eyes she was looking for.

"Good thinking, probie--you go interview the band members see if you can come up with anything. Call in any resources you feel you need. I'm going to look over the scene see what the ME and detectives can tell us."

She parted from the younger woman with a wink.

"Happy hunting."

The cop led her down the corridor through the police tape and into the penthouse suite. She smelled the familiar copper in the air before she ever saw the blood--and there was a lot of it. The body had been mauled and dragged across the room. The furniture was destroyed, torn to bits with what looked like slash marks across the expensive fabric.

"Detective Raime, this is Special Agent Wesson, FBI."

"Thank you, officer." A tall, dark haired and attractive man stood from a puddle of gore and removed a glove to shake her hand.

"Lieutenant Jack Raime, wasn't aware we'd called in the Feds." His green eyes hinted slightly at his natural defensiveness over his case.

Allison smiled. "Special Agent Allison Wesson, and you didn't--don't worry I'm not here to take over your investigation, Lieutenant, just here to observe. The Bureau's interest is piqued, that's all." She felt her cheeks color slightly. She had another reason to like this hunt.

"Well, if you're here to play nice, Agent Wesson, we shouldn't have any trouble. What do you know so far?"

"High profile rocker, possible animal attack."

"Wild animal this far off the ground--yeah, my thought exactly." He caught her look of disbelief. "Victim had all the windows covered, doors locked throughout the suite at time of the attack. Now why would he do that unless..."

Allison broke in. "Unless he was expecting the attack."

The girls went for over an hour through the old books when Lenna sighed and let her head fell on the book. “I wish I could take all this books with me, but I’m not sure we find what we need in them. We might better read Arthur Conan Doyle's book The Hound of the Baskervilles to get answers.”

“Do you want me to get us some coffee?”

Lenna turned her head to peer shocked at Georgie. “You wanna bring cups full your of sticky non fat non sugar vanilla latte close to this books? These old valuable books? You are kidding right?”

Georgie grinned “Okay no coffee got it. Can I eat a chewing gum?”

“Yes but only when I get one too.”

Georgie passed a chewing gum to Lenna and started reading in the book, while Lenna turned back to hide in the book. For some reason she felt as if she is letting down the team. She was the one suppose to be good in research. But right now she kind of sucked she couldn’t find out what they were hunting.

I shouldn’t pressure myself so much. We are just here for a bit than an hour. I just read 5 books. That is not my best I read in an hour.

Something was weird, so weird that Lenna looked up confused. “Georgie, I’m not sure but I might have lost my mind, but I hear music in a library and I am not sure from where it comes.”



((OOC MissA we are a bit ahead of time so take it slow ))

Rome began downstairs, outside, at the truck. Music blared at a manageable level from the front seat. He made a beeline for a guy who looked In Charge and, plastering on his most eager-to-please smile, clapped his hands and said, "Okay, boss, what do I grab next?"

The man glanced him up and down. "Who the hell are you?"

"Oh, sorry, man, I, ah, I'm the replacement they got in. New guy, sorry, nobody's given me a pass yet. Here, man, lemme help you with that," Rome said, speaking quickly, and pausing only to help another guy adjust a crate full of equipment. Then he turned back to in-charge guy. "Sorry, uh, who should I talk to about getting one of those?"

In-Charge guy sighed and pulled out a clipboard full of names. As he leafed through it, Rome caught a name from the first page and "Oh, yeah, Atherton, that's me," he flashed the man a winning smile and, after a pause and a shrug, the man nodded, sifted through a stack of papers before handing him a laminated piece of crap badge held together by a lanyard. Rome could have made a more official-looking backstage pass with a child's school supplies, but whatever.

"Okay, Atherton, got you clocked in, though I dunno why they got more guys if we're pulling out. After what happened to Rev, man, sh*t."

Rome perked up his ears, but tried to look shocked. "Why, what happened?"

"You mean you haven't heard? Jesus Christ, how new are you?"

"Pretty new," Rome replied lamely.

"So you didn't know Jimmy, huh?"

"No, sorry to say I didn't."

"He was..." In-Charge guy shook his head. "He was amazing. The way he beat them pig-skins, I mean, sh*t, we had to bring in new sets almost every act, you know? Best damn drummer I ever heard. Shame to have him go like that. And it almost seemed like..." Then he frowned and shook his head.

Dammit, don't stop there! Rome thought, but he said, "Like what?"

"I dunno. Like he was.... He was a wreck all day, too." He waved a hand. "Doesn't matter. Go help Stevens with the mics."

"Right on, boss. Thanks."

For nothing.

It must have been the fact that they spent their time surrounded by old, dusty books and slowly losing focus, otherwise Georgie had no reasonable explanation why they heard some weird music coming out of nowhere.
"Maybe someone brought a radio or something?"

"In the library?" Elenna looked at her. "They would have been kicked out straight away."

Georgie shrugged her shoulders and continued reading, although she was bored as hell and couldn't concentrate at all.

"That's really bugging me", Elenna mumbled.

"What? This incredibly interesting literature?", she asked sarcastically. "I'm with you on that one."

Elenna rolled her eyes. "No, the music. Why is nobody turing it off? This is a library, you're supposed to be quiet and-"

"Listen to you, geek! If this was high school, you'd be the shy kid in the corner hiding behind a book and I'd be the cheerleader who would make your life miserable." Georgie winked at her with a smile. "Just kidding! Well, the book part might be right, but you're definitely not shy."

"Well, thanks", Elenna replied mockingly, then went back to the huge amount of research in front of her. "We're getting nowhere here!"

Morrigan went over to the band members, sticking her hands in her pockets. She hated the way the suit felt. She wanted to be in her jeans, spaghetti strap top, cowgirl hat and loose hair like always, not this restricting black garmet bag.

"Hey, um, I mean...I'm Morrigan Beretta with the FBI. What do you guys know about what just happened to Sullivan?"

The guys looked her over and smiled a little. "New?"

She swallowed and tried not to show how terribly freaked out she was to be asking a well-known band about a murder. "First case," she replied. "Look, I'm sorry about Sullivan, but I'm afraid I'm going to need all the help you can give me if we're going to get to the bottom of this."

"Yeah, he was acting kinda messed up at the party last night. Went into his room early all paranoid..." Synester Gates said, looking down at the pavement. "He kept telling me we should get outa there, but I wanted to stay until at least midnight. He really wanted to get back, so I let him go by himself. I knew that I was being a jerk, but I didn't think anything was going to happen to him."

"It's weird, ya know?" M Shadows continued, "We signed our first record here. We were all so excited to be back in Jackson after all these years, full circle, but now he's gone..."

Morrigan looked over at the other band member, Zacky Vengeance. He hadn't even looked at her. "Hey, Zach, Mr. Baker, please."

He looked up at her, half-comatose. He started to hum and whisper some vocals.

"Hey, is that Nightmare?" Morrigan asked. "Does that song mean something to you Mr. Baker?"

He smiled maniacally, "I told him not to join that stupid club. I TOLD HIM!"

Morrigan backed away. "Thanks for your help," she said hastily. She needed to get to a computer and look up that song right away.

"Sooooo..." Rome stole a glance at the ID hanging off of the man helping him move a giant bass amplifier down the stairs, "Jim. How long you been working with these guys?"

The man seemed downcast and didn't look at him: though this could have been because he was watching his feet. "Since the beginning."

Guy didn't seem to want to talk. But Rome had ways of getting people to talk.

Like being annoying.

"How long was that? These guys are pretty new, though, right?" Jim flashed him a sharp look, but Rome laughed sheepishly, easing sideways through a doorway. "Sorry, man, I usually work local gigs, you know, the blues scene, mainly, a little bit of rock, pop, whatever comes through, I'm not really into..."

"About eight years," Jim said, probably to get him to shut up.

"And what were you doing before then?" Rome pursued conversationally, but the guy set down the amp and excused himself. Oookay, dodgy much? Rome scrunched his face in distaste, then pursed his lips in thought. He was just about to bound back up the stairs when somebody's portable radio, which he was standing nearby, began to flicker and go static-y, like something supernatural was screwing with it.

This is the end... the crackled voice of Jim Morrison echoed eerily through the device. Rome looked around him--he was basically alone. He reached his hand toward the radio, which began clearing up and hiked up the volume at him in response. Rome withdrew his hand like it was hot.

He looked around again to see if anyone else was seeing this. Now the radio flickered and crackled, and switched to the shockingly grating wail of Janis Joplin.

Then Rome noticed the smell.

Sulfur. He'd know that rotten-egg smell anywhere, and he was lucky he didn't lose his lunch right there. Instead, he whacked the radio, which fell off of the crate it was sitting on, and broke, and silence reigned.

For a moment. Until some other corny riff started up from a clearly broken piece of machinery. It didn't help that when he looked around again, hoping someone would be there so he could know he wasn't insane or imagining this, he saw a tall dark figure disappear behind a building across the street.

Frack this noise.

That was enough of being haunted by sucky music and shady figures. Rome bolted back up the stairs of the hotel, heedlessly bowling past Roadies carrying equipment, taking the four floors faster than he otherwise would have with a still-healing broken rib--

Only to run smack into Morrigan Beretta. He opened his mouth to explain to her what he had just seen and tell her to watch out when her immaculate suit reminded him: Agent Beretta.

"Whoops, sorry Rome. I didn't see you there."

"Going somewhere, Agent Beretta ?" he asked with a smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Computer, there's this song that Zacky kept whispering and I don't remember the lyrics all that well. I think the guys know something they're not willing to accept. I think they're caught up in something way over their heads."

"Like what?" Rome asked, plugging his ears against the horrible music blasting from the speakers.

"Paranoia, talk about a 'club'. I'm not sure what we're up against, but I could use your help. You've got more experience when it comes to stuff like this."

Rome lifted an amplifier and and stacked it on top of a crate in front of her, setting a guitar case against them, which partially blocked the two of them off from the rest of the hallway for a brief and quiet confab.

"Ha-ha, nice try, Miss I-Come-From-A-Family-of-Hunters," Rome hissed. "I'm sure you have more of an idea of what's going on here. I could text Lennie and ask her if she can look up--"

"Hey! Moron!" A haggard-looking, badly-dressed pretty boy snapped at him.

Rome's head snapped around, eyes wide.

"That's my rig, idiot, I don't want you getting it on the wrong truck!" The man stalked forward and snatched the guitar case from him. "You can read, right?" He pointed to what was presumably his own name, stamped on the guitar case: JOHN MAYER.

"Oh, uh, sorry, man, I was just, ah--"

"Just watch it, next time. You and your girlfriend!"

Before Rome could smile, offer an apology, or even open his mouth, the man took the guitar, turned around, and stalked back into another room and slammed the door behind him. Rome glanced at Morrigan, grimacing nervously. After a few moments, music began filtering through the door out to them.

"Ookay." Rome said. "Is it just a thing with all rock stars to be twelve-gage douche nozzles? Or, like, is it just me?"

"It's probably you," Morrigan replied automatically before she pursed her lips, thoughtfully. "He seemed like he wasn't having a good day, that's for sure. Like he was...."

"Scared."

Morrigan nodded. But before they could absorb this, Rome's phone went off.

Playing a ringtonehe didn't remember ever having purchased.

"Okay, and what the hell? Am I the only one getting haunted by crappy music?"

"So you have a theory as to how a wild animal gets in the fanciest hotel in the state, mauls its victim, then vanishes without a trace?"

"Do you, Detective?" She played it cool. Raime was more forthcoming and cooperative then normal. Maybe she just had one of those trustworthy faces.

"Oh wait, are you with the X-Files? Is Agent Mulder going to come through that door next?"

"You think you're dealing with the supernatural, lieutenant?" She allowed a slight smile to play at her lips.

Raime ran his bare hand through his hair before pulling on a spare glove and offering her a pair.

"To be honest, I don't have a clue."

It was time to actually touch the scene. Observation wasn't enough. An investigator needed to immerse their entire being in a scene.

She ran her gloved fingers over the tears in the couch.

"There's trace blood here."

The CSU team immediately handed her a small scissors and a plastic bag. She clipped the piece off and handed the items back after sealing the evidence bag.

Time for the body. The ME's assistant was still on scene collecting evidence related to the body but the body itself was long gone from the scene. He did have the report though and that was all she needed for now.

"What can you give us as cause of death?"

The ME looked at her with a sideways glance toward Raime. The detective nodded and the ME answered.

"COD seems to be exsanguination due to severe lacerations to the thorax and perferation of the femoral artery--estimated TOD is around midnight."

Allison nodded. "And can you give us a guess as to the source of the lacerations?"

The man sighed shaking his head. "We might know more when we finish the autopsy, but first glance it looks like some kind of wild dog--only bigger."

"Bigger?"

"Yeah...like lion size."

Aly blinked. "Lion?" Well these rockstars were unique with unique tastes. She turned to one of the uniforms. "Find out if any of the VIPs here have any wild pets--lions, tigers..."

"Bears, oh my?"

She smiled at Raime. He smiled back.

The assistant spoke again.

"It's not feline. I'm saying canine but I've never heard of one so big."

"Thanks, keep me in the loop."

She moved off with the detective back into the main suite. She glanced around the room again, blood was everywhere. There was something though. She stood up on a chair to get a higher vantage point.

"What is missing here?"

"You see it too?"

"Paw prints."

"Not a single one. The place is painted with blood and the attacking animal never once tracked through it. There are no foot prints either or a single void in the blood spatter."

He helped her down.

"So, lemme get this straight--the victim is mauled on the top floor of a luxury hotel by an animal with no paw prints, no shoe prints, in a room that is locked from the inside?"

"Yeah."

She bent down to the floor where the victim's final pose was marked out in white tape. The room's bose sound system suddenly turned on playing an older electric guitar riff. The lyrics struck her almost like one of those musical segues on TV crime dramas--I must have died alone, a long long time ago. She knew it from her own collection. Nirvana, The Man Who Sold the World.

Jack put his hand on her arm. "Hey, you with me there Special Agent?"

She shook it off as it got the chorus.

"Pretty creepy huh? It's been doing that every hour on the dot--same song too."

Her eyes widened remembering the radio problems in the truck and the sudden persistent cold that came over her. She was close to the floor now and noticed a smell.

"You have CSU look for trace in the carpet?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Smell that?"

He got down to her level and inhaled. "Rotten eggs?"

"Sulfur."

"What the hell is sulfur doing here?"

She looked at the blood stained room and then back at Raime, a serious look in her eyes.

"Welcome to the X-Files, detective."

She slipped out her iphone and began to text Rome.

Weird music at scene--The Man Who Sold the World, door looked and barricaded from inside, large dog attack around midnight no paw prints just slashes in body and couch, and smell of sulfur--mean anything to you? I'm in the investigation now. Will meet with you later to catch up. Attached images of the crime scene.

~Scully

Raime stood stripping off his gloves to massage his temples. "Does the FBI have any ideas?"

Aly shook her head and smiled. "None yet--wait for my people to get back to me--you look like you could use a cup of coffee, detective."

He smiled wearily. There was a cafe in the hotel and it was open last she'd checked.

They deposited their gloves in sealed bags and left the room headed for the elevator. She hit the button for the ground level and leaned against the wall.

Raime spoke, flashing her a smile.

"You know for a Feeb, you're not so bad."

She let a soft laugh escape her curve lips. He had no idea.

Rome checked his phone, cutting off the annoying drone of Kurt Cobain. (1) Messages.

"Hang on, Mor, don't go anywhere," Rome said as he read the text from "Scully":

Weird music at scene--The Man Who Sold the World, door looked and barricaded from inside, large dog attack around midnight no paw prints just slashes in body and couch, and smell of sulfur--mean anything to you? I'm in the investigation now. Will meet with you later to catch up. Attached images of the crime scene. ~Scully

Rome frowned, and forwarded the message to Elenna, who could probably do something with it. He then sent her an additional message:

A7X band members major crazy, something definitely going down here. Also J Mayer having bad day. Maybe our monster goes after musicians? Good thing I sucked at piano lol. Also being haunted by music. Nirvana, mainly,

He looked up at Morrigan, who was waiting impatiently for him to finish.

"What other music did you hear? Maybe she can look up the lyrics, maybe there's clues?" he went back to his text, remembering:

The End by Doors, Janis Joplin,

"Well I heard that Nightmare song, but that was by those Avenged guys."

Anyway if you've been hearing weird music too maybe there's a clue there. Be safe, chica.

Rome looked up. Morrigan was frowning, deep in thought. "What?" he asked.

Lenna felt frustrated, she read more books than any normal human could in the time she was in the library but she still didn’t knew the answer. Georgie started to annoy her. All the theatrical sighs from her started to drive Lenna crazy. Georgie didn’t even read the books, she just skimmed through them. There was no respect and love for the books. She was about to yell at Georgie to stop sighing and to pay some respect to the books when she said. “Lenna can you pick a number between eight and 289, please?”

Lenna rolled her eyes but didn’t look up from her book. “Fifty-three.”

Georgie opened the page and turned the book to Lenna. “Can you read this?”

“Why? Are you telling me you can’t read?”

“Of course I can read but it is German.”

Lenna looked up finally, into the book.

“Kerberos (griech. Κέρβερος, latinisiert Cerberus, dt. auch Zerberus – „Dämon der Grube“) ist in der griechischen Mythologie der Höllenhund und Torhüter, der den Eingang zur Unterwelt bewacht. Kerberos wurde zunächst einköpfig, später dreiköpfig oder auch fünfzigköpfig dargestellt, wobei auch andere Zahlen genannt werden. Nebst einem Schlangenschwanz trug er noch Schlangenköpfe auf dem Rücken.“

Lenna starred at the page when her phone rang. Lenna blushed mainly because she was in a library and her phone wasn’t just silent and second because it wasn’t her normal ringtone. As soon she had her phone out of her pocket the ringing stopped and she saw that she got to messages.

Weird music at scene--The Man Who Sold the World, door looked and barricaded from inside, large dog attack around midnight no paw prints just slashes in body and couch, and smell of sulfur--mean anything to you? I'm in the investigation now. Will meet with you later to catch up. Attached images of the crime scene. ~Scully

A7X band members major crazy, something definitely going down here. Also J Mayer having bad day. Maybe our monster goes after musicians? Good thing I sucked at piano lol. Also being haunted by music. Nirvana, mainly, The End by Doors, Janis Joplin, anyway if you've been hearing weird music too maybe there's a clue there. Be safe, chica.

That was the moment when it hit her. Lenna started smiling and looked a little bit as if she lost her mind.

“Georgie I don’t know how you did it but you did it. I think I know what killed our rock star. This article is about hellhounds. I think, no I’m pretty sure we are hunting a hellhounds. That would explain how it got into the hotel and also the sulfur.”

Hellhounds, The Rev got killed by them. Not sure why, but we will find it. Dude we are at the library there is no music, well that’s not really true but I was so annoyed by it that I can’t remember what it was. I mean music in the library, whoever the hellhounds work for they have no respect of the written word. No worries we are safe the worst that can happen is getting paper cuts and maybe I kill G since she doesn’t honor the books as she should.

Georgie looked at Elenna and frowned. "Hellhounds?" She leaned over to have a look at the picture next to the German text. "Doesn't really look like a dog I would put a pink leash on..."

Elenna grinned. "Well, gotta admit it's not a Chihuahua kind of dog...these nasty little rats."

"Hey, they are cute."

"Yeah, sure..." Elenna said with a sarcastic voice.

"So, what's the deal with these hellhounds?", Georgie asked.

"According to this book it's based on a Greek mythology where the hellhound is described as guard of the portal to the underworld."

"Underworld? That sounds kind of strange, don't you think?"

"Well..." Elenna briefly went through the article again. "This is only the Greek mythology. There's definitely more to the picture of that creature. We have to find the connection between our victim and the hellhound."

Georgie raised an eyebrow while looking at the picture again. "Great, we have to deal with a thing that looks like it just jumped out of a Harry Potter movie..."

Elenna grinned. "Better get your wand prepared. I hope it's not shooting glitter and stars."

Morrigan stared hard at Rome. "Hey, are you much of a classic rock junkie? I think I'm on to something. My dad and brothers always like to listen to rock when we're on the road, and I've started to pick up on a few things."

Rome nodded, "Okay, like what?"

"Have you ever heard of the 27 Club?" she asked. "It's a idea that links stars who all mysteriously died at the age of 27."

She smiled as it clicked in Rome's head. "Like Sullivan?"

"Like Sullivan. It seems that all the music we've been hearing comes from members of the exclusive club." She pulled out her new phone and connected to the internet. "When Kurt Cobain died, his mother apparently said, 'Now he's gone and joined that stupid club. I told him not to join that stupid club.' This doesn't sound like a coincidence to me, this sounds like demon."

Rome nodded, leaning over her shoulder to read the wiki pages on the singers she'd pegged as being both members of the notorious 27 Club and the mysterious musicians of the music they'd been forced to listen to the last few days. He liked her perfume and felt his mind wander to things other than the job.

"I think we're on to something, Rome," Morrigan said with a sly grin.

Rome grinned widely at Morrigan. He loved it when they were smart and gorgeous. (Thank you very much, Ms. Reynolds from eighth grade for being so pants-bustingly hot and starting this kink by making him daydream all day long of what would happen to him if he was a very naughty boy and didn't turn his homework in.)

"Rome?" Apparently, Morrigan had been talking to him.

"Uh, yeah, makes sense. That's great," he supplied, helpfully.

"No, Rome, I said that guy over there looks like he needs your help moving that crate."

"Oh. Really? Hell." Rome turned, grinned, waved at the impatient-looking guy in question, and turned back to Morrigan briefly. "You've got everyone's numbers right? Send out a call for a confab, I think there's a Barbecue joint across the street. We all need to talk, in person, if we're gonna figure this out. I'm gonna work a little more magic here, and I'll meet you guys there, with my computer. In the meantime, happy hunting, dudette," he winked at Morrigan with overt, yet playful, suggestion. He was so preoccupied imagining her in spectacles to go with that powersuit that he didn't notice how freaking heavy this thing was until it was breaking his back to carry it down four flights of stairs.

Allison sipped her coffee after checking her phone.

"That your people?"

She nodded.

"Well, aren't you going to tell me in the interest of cooperation?"

Aly smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"It is just an update on their progress--no real information yet. Don't worry, Raime--I'll tell you everything. Though you may not like my conclusions."

"Yeah...X-Files?"

She laughed with her lips touching the rim of her steaming cup.

"No little green men--I promise."

Raime sighed and sat back, sipping his coffee with a tired smile.

"Why don't you call me Jack--we're off the clock."

Her eyes sparkled.

"Aly."

"Well, Aly--you staying in this hotel?"

"Yes--you?"

He laughed.

"Oh no...too fancy for my detective's salary."

He seemed to close his eyes for a moment then jerked back to consciousness.

"You're tired, you should go home."

"Should--but I think I'll go back up to the scene. You coming?"

Aly shook her head slowly. She was going over the lyrics to the songs Rome sent her in her head and slowly piecing a picture together in her mind. It was a crazy, insane picture that didn't even make sense to her, but maybe the other hunters would be able to.

Jack got up from their booth and handed her her jacket, like they had been on some sort of date.

"It's been nice meeting you, Aly. Will I see you again?"

"Of course--I'm on this case whether wanted or not. I'll see you in a couple hours. Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me you'll sleep?"

She dug in her purse and did something totally off the wall. She handed him her room key.

He eyed it with surprise.

"How will you get in your room?"

"I'm a Feeb, remember."

He shared her dazzling smile as they parted ways. Aly left the cafe, still watching the elevator Raime had got into. She bit gently at the corner of her lip thinking about him in her room, probably looking at her things, sleeping in her bed. Her cheeks were a dark shade of red by the time she got into the BBQ joint across the street and ordered a neat double whiskey.

Lenna looked up from her book when her phone was buzzing on the table next to her.

“Hey Barbie, Morrigan says to meet up. Let’s go, I wanna get changed before we meet the others. I’m annoyed of the skirt.”

“But you are so pretty in your outfit.”

Lenna looked over her glasses at Georgie.

“Don’t push your luck here woman.”

Georgie grinned when they went to their rental car to drive back to the hotel.

“The last time I hunted huge evil invisible dogs I had pneumonia afterwards, I hope this will not happen again, even though Rome was a great nurse. Oh wait I wasn’t supposed to tell you this.” Lenna giggled about the memory.

Now, Rome couldn't hardly be called a conman on a good day. He didn't really have the brains, the patience, or the impetus. He was, however, emotionally and personally perceptive, could read people and play them, and he was quite good at taking advantage of situations already in place. He was, more aptly, a Faceman: a better-looking, less-conniving Templeton Peck. When the opportunity presented itself, he was ready with a smile to lock and load.

The opportunity turned out to have a name: Mrs. Roadie Mom With a Clipboard, Cougar Extraordinaire. Her real name was actually Ms. Wilson, she made perfectly clear, and talked a lot about her ex-husband. She looked like Pamela Anderson, smelled like an ashtray, and Rome was told he could call her "Angela."

As much as Rome tried to be appalled at himself for what he was doing, he couldn't deny that he totally wanted to tap that. And she picked up on this.

He was prepared to steal some backstage passes out of her messenger bag as he faked going for a feel, but she was actually more cooperative than he anticipated. A fun night out for him and all his little friends in the form of five backstage passes to John Mayer, and her room key, and five tickets to the White Stripes concert the night after.

Rome almost followed her up to her room right then and there before he got the annoyed Where are you? text from Elenna. Cock-blocked again.

So he excused himself politely, with many an inappropriate innuendo, and went down the street to the BBQ restaurant with something to show for it besides a guilty conscience he couldn't actually bring himself to feel guilty about.

He found the ladies already seated and beginning to eat. "Hey, hey, hey, chicas, what's the haps?"

Lenna smiled over her plate full of grilled stuff at Rome. Georgie looked from her plate of salad worried to Lenna’s plate.

“Finally, Rome.”

Lenna looked curious and maybe even worried at Rome from head to toe. Rome enjoyed the attention. Lenna dipped her finger in the shot glass in front of her and flipped a few drops of water at Rome.

“Hey what was that for? I’m not that late, chica.” Rome wiped the water of his face and looked wondering at Lenna.

“Sorry just making sure you are you.” Lenna grinned. “Holy water.”

Lenna went back to her notes while she ate and Rome sat down.

“Okay now that we are all here, let’s recap. It is a pain in the ass to go with Barbie to the library or the morgue. She is disgusted by everything and is bored by books with no pictures of celebrities.”

“Elenna!” Georgie Looked offended at her friend.

“Oh and yeah she found the hellhounds in a book, by guessing and playing games. Anyway the rocker looks pretty bad but the heart isn’t missing so unless there is an honestly messed up Rottweiler in town I’m pretty sure it was a hellhound. And to top this hellhounds are the pets of demons, also crossroad demons. Well that’s what a couple of books said. The celebrity of the hellhounds is Cerberus, the three headed guard of the underworld. Also…”

“Lenna stop lecturing us, we got it.” Georgie interrupted Lenna before she lost this universe and was lost in the world of books and words.

"If you want to go to Hogwarts and impress your teachers, just go ahead, Hermione", Georgie said with a teasing smile. Although she used to dislike these super nerdy girls in school who always acted like they ruled the world -ahem, actually, the cheerleaders did, and she was the head of them- she found herself liking Lenna's smartass behavior, because it made her who she was. She never had a geeky friend before, so it was totally amusing and fun because they were so completely different.

Elenna stuck out her tongue at her. "If it wasn't for my intelligence we'd still sit around and stare at the walls."

"I have to correct you", Georgie said with a sugar-sweet smile. "If it wasn't for me we'd still sit around and stare at the walls because I opened the page with the hellhounds."

"By coincidence."

"So?"

Rome, Aly and Morrigan watched them with an amused smile until Elenna said "Whatever!" and picked at her food.

"Well, after a long and tremendously boring time in the library we finally discovered what we're dealing with right now", Georgie said.

"You mentioned hellhounds?", Morrigan asked.

"Yepp. Not what I would consoder 'cute' ", Elenna mumbled, quickly looking at Georgie. "Unless Barbie here decides to dress them up in a tutu skirt."

Georgie crumpled up a piece of her napkin and threw it at Elenna's head.

"And I thought you were the adult, but I guess not." Elenna grinned, ignored the napkin attack and kept eating.

Aly enjoyed the younger women's antics while she tapped the edge of the table in time with the old blues song in her head. Her father had been the blues-man, born and raised in New Orleans before going out west for college. He'd met her mother and that, as they say, was that. He still had family down in the Bayou though so they visited often. He's taken her down to Canal Street for her first blues concert when she was eight. She'd loved it ever since. Aly was a daddy's girl.

Her cheeks colored sightly as they looked in her direction waiting for her report. She decided to show just how good a time she was having, and mess with the girls.

"Well, I don't know about any of you, but I found a very cooperative detective upstairs who has let me into his investigation. Not a bad looker either--and is currently sleeping in my hotel room."

She grinned at the shocked and gasps and a muttered "not fair" from Lenna.

Aly walked them all through the crime scene again, taking out the photos on her cell phone and passing it around.

"The ME is thinking some kind of large dog. There was also a smell of sulfur on the floor by where the body was found."

She felt absolutely ridiculous coming up with this idea. If she mentioned it on The Grid at FBI she'd be called Mulder and sent to the basement. However, it did seem to make sense. The victim was 27 and a musician. The music they heard everywhere was also a clue--the biggest clue.

"Alright, now you got me proposing ghost stories--don't look too proud over there, Romey. I've been thinking over those songs we've heard, and the sulfur, and the dog, and well...God I can't believe I'm saying this...is there such thing as a Crossroads Demon? You know, Robert Johnston and Going to the Crossroads--guy sells his soul to the Devil to be the best blues man ever and dies mysteriously at age 27? Bunch of other musicians have the same MO, die at 27."

She took a long sip of her drink and sighed.

"Yeah I know, Aly--don't quit your day job. Too f-ing late." She smiled.

Lenna looked up from her food with a face of a guy whose girlfriend just said yes to his proposal.

“I love you, Aly! And you can’t imagine what we would have done if you didn't quit your dayjob, you were hunting the wrong guys anyway.”

She pushed her plate aside, unfortunately right in front of Rome who saw this as invitation to finish it, Lenna picked up with some difficulties a huge, heavy book from under the table.

“I got this for as some light background reading from Tex…”

“You are calling this light?” Georgie looked at the book that was nearly the size of half the table.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Lenna was surprised. “Anyway it is an encyclopedia of all kinds of things, and there is a paragraph about Crossroads.
Crossroads
Widely linked to magic, crossroads are said to be haunted by various entities who take joy in confusing travelers. Visited by ghosts, activities of demons, the Devil, witches and fairies, the meeting and parting of ways can also be used to conjure up the same spirits who appear there. Also, the shape of the crossroads can be used in protection against these. Spirits appear at crossroads every All Hallow's Eve and at other times, can be conjured up to appear there. Also, the very shape of crossroads is in some lore protection against the spirits alleged to haunt the places.”

Lenna was blushing in excited as usual.

“Did I mention I like hunting demons?”

Rome didn't look up until his and Elenna's plates were both empty, and then he only glanced around to make sure Aly wasn't finishing her cole slaw before swiping it. He had had the too-much-caffeine-on-an-empty-stomach shakes for the past hour, which, now they were abating, he slurped up the last of his Mountain Dew before going back to the soda fountain for another. God bless America.

When he returned, Elenna's gleeful quip startled him--

"Did I mention I like hunting demons?"

He did a double-take at that one, and she immediately looked repentant, so instead of launching into a tirade, Rome just rolled his eyes.

"Did I mention what the hell are you smoking, chica?" he tried not to snap. He knew she didn't mean it like that, of course, but, hey, sensitive subject, so pardon me if I get my boxers in a bunch. He also knew she knew he was scared deep down inside, and he hated that she knew even more than he hated being scared. And it made him feel like an asshole for getting mad at her for being concerned about him. But, there you go.

As he sat, he absently fiddled with the demon-protection-pendant she had given him, and his nerves calmed somewhat, remembering what it meant. Or maybe it was the Mountain Dew that was calming his nerves. But still: "Look, demons are bad news. I don't want you telling these people it's a trip to Disneyland, because it's not." He frowned at her briefly before glancing at the book in front of her. "Okay, so, what, Crossroad Demons just hang out at any old crossroad, or what?"

"No," Elenna replied tentatively, as Rome glanced out the window to see if there happened to be a conveniently sinister-looking crossroads just outside, "it has to be an old crossroad, and there's usually yarrow weed growing around it--"

"Hey!" Rome shouted, and half stood up, pointing outside. There wasn't a crossroads out the window. But there was a creepy-looking dude just staring at them, and when Rome looked at him he turned and walked quickly down the road.

And Rome recognized the creepy guy's back more than he recognized his front.

"That's the guy who's been following us," he said, and immediately the four ladies whipped their heads around, simultaneously, loose hair flying--it was exactly like Charlie's Angels, it was amazing!--and all caught sight of him. Rome could tell, then, that at least this creeper-pretty-boy wasn't just stalking him. Everyone stood up, quickly, Rome threw some bills on the table, not noticing (or caring) how much was actually there, and they all left after him. Maybe he had answers. Maybe he was even involved. Or--worse--he knew who they were.

Either way, they needed to talk to this guy.

If he even turned out to be a human guy.

They followed the creepy guy through town; it was hard to keep up with Rome. He seemed to be desperate in finding him.

“Rome stop, we are running in circles, we lost him.” Lenna grabbed Rome's arm to stop him and looked at the other three girls.

“Any ideas how to track the guy?”

It would be so handy would it be when Rome could willingly use his ESP to find the guy.

“We can try it again like I found the hellhounds.” Georgie suggested.

“Dude, that is a hideous plan.” Lenna sounded a bit annoyed.

“Fine, then let’s try and by following the creepy guy over there.” Georgie looked triumphant at Lenna.

“Even a blind chicken finds a seeds once in a while.” Georgie took Lenna’s hand while they all crossed the street.

“Come on little girl, I don’t want you get hit by a car.” Lenna rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away from Georgie.

They managed to follow the guy to the big intersection in the middle of town, just as they lost him again.

“Wow that doesn’t look like the crossroads I pictured.” Lenna whistled.

“How does he manage to disappear in the middle of the road? He can’t just fly away.”

“Maybe he didn’t go up, but down? The skinwalker was hiding in the sewers.” Said Rome while they tried to find the trace of the guy.

“You are not suggestion in going down the sewers, are you? It smells there and it’s dirty and just really gross.” Georgie looked disgusted by just the thought of the sewers. Her face made Lenna laugh.

“It looks like we are going downstairs, sorry Barbie.”

They waited until the intersection was clear and they could go down the sewers, which where smelly and dirty but their job was most of the time bad smelling and dirty.

Aly took another direction to head the man off and saw him almost vanish into thin air. He looked familiar, very familiar, but her mind was still too practical to accept the person's face.

Ghosts weren't real...oh wait, yes they were.

She signaled to the others to follow her around to the center of a small park. It would be impossible to gain entry to the sewers by the street. It was too busy, but Aly had a different idea. During her chase she'd see culverts exiting out of a park into the river. They were old, probably as old as the city itself and were no longer in use from the look of them, but they probably connected to the main sewer line.

Aly un-holstered her sig and loaded a silver clip, keeping the real one in her pocket as reserve. Silver seemed t work with most everything they fought nowadays. She'd also had them soaking in Holy Water for an entire night before letting them air-dry and loading them into her clip. She wasn't sure if that would work, but it wouldn't hurt her gun to try.

She could swear she heard a familiar tune up ahead. Her foot tapped to it even as she walked the length of pipe.

Aly had taken point, so Rome sidled up behind her, slogging through the sewage and muck. It truly smelled awful, and was absolutely disgusting, but so far he managed to keep down the barbecue, and G, from somewhere behind him, managed to keep the b*tching to a minimum.

His Desert Eagle was drawn, and in his other hand he held a flashlight, as he and Aly struggled to see what was ahead of them.

Rome cocked his head to one side, and leaned into her: "Do you hear music?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I..."

"What is it?"

"I think it's more of the same. But it sounds..." she didn't continue. Rome cringed even before she said it: it sounded live. As in, someone was singing and playing blues guitar in these sewers right this moment.

They waited for the others to catch up, and then advanced, slowly, in tandem. After only a few minutes, they came to a crossroad of sorts formed by the sewer system. They could hear and feel the rumbling of the busy street above them. The music was louder, but seemed to be coming from all around them. After taking a deep breath, Aly turned and pointed her weapon into the left-hand tunnel, just moments before Rome checked the right-hand tunnel.

Nothing.

"All clear," Rome began, as he turned back to the girls, but as he moved, he nearly stumbled over something half-buried in the muck. "Gross," he said, as he trained the light on the container. "Who left their lunchbox down here?"