"Narrowing it down, these are the two most likely locations the memory card could be hidden in. His family house or this unregistered apartment in the Bronx."

We all stared at the makeshift map the detective laid out on the table earlier on. Will thought a map was ridiculous. There were now two law enforcement guys on board and he completely hated it.

It was FBI (Eli), who took the initiative and contacted Detective Shaun a day after our meeting in the lot. Turns out the detective and his partner were assigned the case on Twain's death back in January when it happened but it was quickly ruled out as an accident. Then, Elise Lynette was killed and the same patterns somehow popped up. It eventually led him to FMG and now us.

As the days went by, the tension inevitably got thicker. FBI occasionally got information about Runo from his street sources. We were on even grounds at the moment but who knew how long that would be for? Who would get the memory card first?

Around a coffee table, in a building Will and Mark regularly used to hold meetings with the rest of their team, were FBI and Detective Shaun, then Will, Mark and I.

"Where's your bet on?" Mark asked.

"I can't say, it's a volatile case, it could be anywhere. We don't have many leads to work with." The detective answered then sighed, "I still don't feel comfortable letting civilians handle this too."

"We've been on this longer than you." William countered looking annoyed.

"So leave it, man." Mark crossed his arms.

"They'll be fine." FBI shrugged.

"If anything happens, we'll be responsible." Detective Shaun continued.

"Then let's make sure nothing happens partner." FBI patted the detective's shoulder. He didn't look any satisfied and was about to say more until I dove in.

"I think we should focus on finding the card first. That's paramount, don't you think?"

"I'm even more worried about the missy." He went on, totally ignoring my words.

"Don't be," I bristled and he drew back. There was stifled laughter from the others and I especially caught the smile on the corner of Will's lips before he turned away.

Mark clapped, "okay, Ophelia's right. We should focus on finding the card. FBI and I can go down to the family house, detective, you can go with Will and the missy to the apartment." He winked as he said 'missy'.

The detective took his car while Will and I were in his. It was a long drive made longer by the rush hour traffic. Fridays were usually busy at this hour. I got off work early using personal issues as my reason. Don't judge, it is personal.

"We are here."

My eyes darted out the window, viewing the building Twain Yanus had at some point in his life lived in.

"Hey," Will's warm hand covered mine.

"Huh?"

"You've been wringing your fingers together for a while now." He smiled and gently separated them.

"I'm nervous, aren't you?"

"I can't exactly put a name to what I feel right now."

We exited the car and joined Detective Shaun who was already waiting for us at the entrance. We entered the building and found a receptionist sitting behind a long brown desk. She perked up noticing our trio.

"Good afternoon, I'm Detective Shaun," he raised his badge, "I'm from the NYPD. I'm— we are here to investigate a case. It's about a former resident of this building, Twain Yanus. He had an apartment leased, right?"

"Yes," she answered slowly, "but he passed away months ago."

"What about his apartment?"

"It's been cleared for over a month now but no one has moved in yet."

"Cleared? By who?"

"A woman came by, said she was a close friend of his, took all his stuff and never came back. It was leased so we weren't going to move anything until his family came but they never did, so when she came, the owner let her move the stuff. You can have a look if you want." She held out a key.

"Thank you." Detective Shaun collected the key.

We headed up in silence and reached the apartment following the directions the girl gave us prior. The detective unlocked the door and we all walked in. The apartment was bare; not a single piece of furniture in sight.

Will ran a hand through his hair.

"Who could have cleared out his things?" I wondered.

"Anyone," Will answered turning around. "We'll ask the receptionist for more details."

"We could still find something here." The detective said. We began searching and in less than ten minutes ended up back in the centre of the room. There was nothing; no nooks nor crannies. Leaving the apartment, we returned to the ground floor where the front desk was.

"Do you have the woman's contact?" Detective Shaun inquired and the receptionist shook her head looking a little embarrassed. They must have just wanted Twain's stuff off their hands.

"What about her name? She must have told you that at least."

"She did," her face scrunched up thoughtfully, "but I can't remember."

"What do you remember?" Will questioned.

"My co-worker might know more. I haven't been working here for long."

"When will your co-worker get here?"

She glanced at her watch. "Soon, you can sit while you wait— oh, there she is."

We all turned towards the door as a dark-skinned woman on braids walked in. She eyed us carefully.

"Good afternoon." Detective Shaun was the first to speak up.

The woman went behind the desk and placed her things down. "Good afternoon, how may I help ya'll?"

He went through the same introduction formalities he'd gone through with the first receptionist before dropping his questions.

"It wasn't her first time here, another reason why Mr Gerald didn't mind handing over the stuff."

That had us all straightening up.

"So she was a regular visitor?" I asked.

She nodded, "along with his girlfriend. I heard the girlfriend was," she paused to look around then leaned in. "I heard she was murdered. It got me thinking. The day the woman came to clear his stuff, she was acting all weird."

"How?" Will pushed.

"She kept looking everywhere like someone was, I don't know, chasing her?"

The other receptionist nodded eagerly. "Yes, I hadn't seen her before so I wasn't so sure but I also thought it was odd. She even had a scarf tied around her face with sunglasses on."

"A scarf and sunglasses?" Will moved closer and faced the second receptionist, "can you remember her name?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, "I think it was Raina? No, nirvana? Irina? Irene! Irene that was it."

I gulped.

"Dark hair? Blue eyes, about 5'7 feet tall?" Will fired and the woman instantly nodded.

"Fits what I remember and the girlfriend was blonde. Quite like you." She indicated at me and a shiver ran down my back.

__

"Isn't Irene Dieter and Leona's former secretary? The one who was recently killed?" Detective Shaun asked once we were out of the building. "I didn't know they knew each other."

"Neither did I." Will palmed his face. "It never popped up."

"So Twain and Irene knew each other. They must have been close if she visited here often and even packed his stuff away." Detective Shaun stated. "What's everything we know about her?"

"She worked for D&L until she was fired in February, that's actually around the time Twain was killed." I supplied.

"Why was she fired?"

"According to Leona, she brought trouble and calamity to the company," Will mumbled and it all suddenly made more sense.

"She must have introduced Twain to them. They might have even worked together. Is it possible she knew where the memory card was and that's why she moved the stuff?"

"Maybe."

"So who did he devise the plan with? Elise or Irene?" I stared back at the building.

"There's more we don't know." The detective sighed.

Will's phone rang and he answered. It was Mark on the other end of the line and judging from the look on Will's face, their search was probably futile too.

"They are still searching but it's not looking so promising either." Will delivered after the call ended.

"Any ideas where Twain's stuff could have been moved to? We should start from there." Detective Shaun posed.

"We searched his place, let's try hers," William responded then proceeded to dial a number.

While the detective and I waited in abated silence, I thought about everything we knew so far. Will had said Irene was about to divulge something important to him before her untimely death. Maybe that was what Irene planned to tell Will. Her connection with Twain Yanus and the whereabouts of the memory card. But it still left out Elise Lynette. How close had Twain and Irene been? Did Elise and Irene know each other?

"She stayed upstate. Let's go." Will said breaking my reverie.

The Detective left to his car first and as I was about to get into Will's car, he held my hand stopping me.

"Tired?" He studied me.

"The contrary. I'm almost bursting at the seams." I said and he gleamed.

"You two can make out later!" Detective Shaun yelled as he drove by.

"Cops," Will rolled his eyes but walked to the other side of the car. I chuckled and opened the door getting in. I pressed play on the radio hoping the music would will away some of the tension.

We stopped in front of a bungalow. The neighbourhood was one of those picket-fenced types.

"Is that a realtor?" Will motioned to the woman sticking a sign into the lawn.

"I think so," I alighted the car. The detective was already out of his car and heading towards the woman. I followed.

"You're selling the house?" I blurted out.

"Yes, who are you?"

"I'm Detective Shaun, from NYPD. We are together." He held out his badge.

"Was Irene's death not a suicide then?"

A dark-haired woman stood at the door staring at us warily. "That's what the coroner said. That it was a suicide. I'm Irene's sister, Helen."

"It was a suicide," William spoke. "Can we talk inside?"

She nodded and we all filtered in.

Her death had been pronounced as a suicide to her family then. I sighed. Numerous boxes were lying about likely containing furniture and bits but some picture frames remained on the wall and shelves so I moved nearer to them. The first I took note of was a joint of Helen and Irene. Fidgety and always covered up in a scarf and shades. She'd come to D&L when I'd just started work as William's PA. She had come again to Illston Tech, the week the stalker jumped Will and after the pregnancy farce happened. I turned back to face the others but another picture on the shelf caught my eye and I zoned in on it.

"I still can't believe Irene did what they are saying to herself." Helen was saying.

"We are sorry for your loss." Detective Shaun sympathized.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"Did you know Irene's friends?" That was Will.

I picked up the frame and stared at the three faces smiling at the camera. My hands shook.

"Will," I called, "isn't this—"

"Those were her best friends."

Helen was pointing right at the picture frame I held in one hand. Will and the detective were at my side in a flash.

"It's all three of them." Detective Shaun marvelled. Twain, Elise and Irene in one picture.

"What's going on?" Helen asked.

"How long were they friends for?" Will questioned.

"Fifteen years, give or take. They got into something, didn't they? Irene didn't commit suicide, did she? They all died within months of each other!" Helen broke down into tears.

The three of us stared at each other before the detective took action and bent to her level.

"I know this is very hard at the moment but we need your help."

"With?" She sniffed.

"Your sister moved Twain's stuff from his apartment, do you know where she could have moved them to?"

"She donated them all to freewill."

***