Armed and dangerous:

Disclaimer: Except for some minor characters, if they even earn themselves a name, the rest is owned by Marvel, I’m only using them because I love them so much, is that a crime? Ok, ok, don't answer that.
A/N: They’re mutants, but there are no X Men. They all have somewhat normal lives.
Rating: I’m not sure, yet. We’ll see.

Did you do it?


Logan sat in the little room, looking defeated. He glanced at his handcuffed hands and groaned. He wasn’t a criminal, whay was he here? And why Silver Fox had seemed to be waiting for the cops? He looked up when the door opened, and a big, grouchy guard stepped inside, being accompanied by a man in his late twenties. He was the typical out-of-the-mill guy, nobody would have looked twice at him, and his steel-rimmed glasses and grey suit screamed “lawyer” like a neon sign.
“Your lawyer, bastard.” The guard informed him, and Logan growled. Bastard?
“Marcus Raven, duty solicitor, mister, err… Howland?” Raven, it was Raven, good, if somebody could explain him what the hell was happening and take him out of there, that was Raven. But why hadn’t she come in her normal form?
“Howlett.” Logan corrected ‘him’, and the lawyer nodded and sit down, looking at the guard until he went out and closed the door.
Leaning back in the chair, Raven put ‘his’ arms onto the table and looked at Logan up and down. The man was enjoying one of his few free days when he was arrested, and was dressed in short jeans, white T-shirt and a sleveless flannel shirt. He hadn’t shaved that morning and his hair was even wilder than usually. Raven took ‘his’ glasses out and pinched the bridge of ‘his’ nose before speaking.
“You’re in deep shit, Logan. They set you up for good. Vic would be laughing and saying ‘I told you’ if this wasn’t so serious.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Raven? Why am I here? What are they accusing me of?” Logan asked, leaning towards his lawyer.
“You don’t know. They didn’t informed you?” Raven glanced at the door. “Well, I could sue them for that, but…” ‘He’ shrugged, put ‘his’ glasses back and rearranged ‘his’ suit’s cuffs before looking at Logan. “They’re accusing you of the kindergarten explosion. They have evidences and Silver accused you.”
“What!?” Logan shouted, getting up and letting the chair fall down. He put his hands on the table and leaned towards Raven’s face, stopping mere inches of it. “That’s bullshit, and you know it! Anybody that knows me knows that! Kill children… No way.”
“Calm down, Logan. Sit and listen to me, ok?” Raven said, glad about being able to have that conversation without being recorded or supervised. ‘He’ already had a slip mentioning Vic, and if the conversation continued this way, there would be ever more.
“Yeah, yeah.” Logan mumbled, setting the chair up and flopping in it. “Just thinking about it makes me sick, Raven. I have kids.”
“Listen. Logan, Vic and I know that you’re innocent. That’s why I’m here.”
“Yeah, like a duty solicitor. What, you can’t get your lawyer firm involved in something like this? Not even for a friend?”
“No, Logan, it’s not that. If they don’t see relation between you and Darkholme Lawyers, I can investigate without people looking over my shoulder. And the same goes for Victor. We need to found evidences of your inocence.”
“What fucking evidences, Raven? I’m innocent! I didn’t do it.”
“That isn’t what Silver says. And they found C4 and dinamyte in your basement, and other things to make a bomb… They say that the evidences in the crime scene also point af you. They set you up very well, Logan.”
“But… Silver’s my wife, she never… And the kids? They know it wasn’t me… They must know it wasn’t me.”
“Your ex-wife, Logan. She asked for a divorce minutes after you were arrested, and with the charges against you, she got it. You also lost the girls’ custody. I’ve tried to talk with them, but Silver had hide them. She knows that Jubes would declare in your favour, and they can’t risk that.”
“What are we going to do, Raven?” Logan asked in a low voice, with his head in his hands. Raven had never saw him like this, and ‘he’ was afraid of how he would react at ‘his’ next words.
“By legal ways? Nothing. There aren’t loose ends, Logan. You know how to make a bomb, have the materials, you don’t have an alibi…”
“And a reason? I don’t have that, either.” Logan looked up, with hope.
“They say that somebody paid you for that, your bank account had some suspicious deposits weeks before the explosion. You are acused of the death of twenty children and four teachers, corruption and high treaon, Logan. They want you dead, and out there are a lot of people volunteering to do just that.” Logan looked like if somebody had shoot him in the gut. “Vic and me are looking for something in not so legal ways, but… It isn’t easy, we don’t know what to look for. You would, but you’re here. And the time’s running against us, the trial is in a week, or less.”
The door opened again, and the guard sair Raven that ‘his’ time with the inmate was over. Raven stood up and hold ‘his’ hand out to Logan. He stood up too, and shook it. Raven looked at his friend in the eyes.
“Let me ask you this again, mister Howlett. Did you do that?”
“What do you think?” Was Logan’s answer, and Raven turned around and went out the room.

Crime Scene:

A big, gloved hand lifted the police tape and its owner stepped into the burned place. It still smelled of smoke, explosive and burned flesh. The man walked slowly between the rubble, looking around. The kindergarten had been a two stories house, painted in white and blue, with a nice garden with swings and slides and even a little plastic log. Now, the building was completely destroyed and the garden was covered in debris. To achieve a destruction like that, the terrorist should have put bombs in all the strategical places. And something like that… well, it was very difficult to go unnoticed.
The man crouched down and brushed the dirt from something… A doll. Barbie Supersomething. Burned. The building colapsed and the fire started, or the fire started and then the building colapsed?
“Hey, who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” Another man’s voice interrumpted his thoughts.
With the doll still in his hand, he stood up and turned to confront the newcomer. “Hey, Wraith. So, you now work crime scenes? I thought you had a higher level.” The blonde man said with a smirk.
“Creed.” Wraith stopped in front of the big man. “You shouldn’t be here. The criminalists are still looking for evidences.”
“I thought you were sure that this” Creed moved the hand with the doll to take in the destructed place “was Logan’s work. He’s in jail for it, isn’t he?”
“The evidences we have point to him, yes. What did he said to Raven today?”
Creed didn’t show surprise at the fact that Wraith knew about Raven’s visit at the jail. The mutant looked at the doll and smirked again.
“That he was innocent. At least at first. When she was going out, she asked again. He only asked her what did she think.”
“And? I suppose you think he’s innocent, since you’re here, do you?”
Victor only shrugged and looked around. Wraith seemed oddly confortable discussing the terrorist attack in the place where it happened, the place that, to be true, still was filled with remains of the corpses, if Creed’s nose didn’t lie to him. And it usually didn’t. Wraith observed the big mutant, waiting for an answer, but Victor stood quietly for a long five minutes, his deep breaths the only sounds in the place. At last, he looked at Wraith.
“I know that Logan was… an unstable piece in your organization. He was so good that you put him to work in places for men without eyes or ears… And he has a good set of both. He started to know things that could have been dangerous for the country if other people knew about it.”
“Logan isn’t like you, Creed.” Wraith said, looking to his old subordinate. “You sell yourself to the best offer, but he…” Wraith grew suddenly quiet, knowing he was absolving Logan of the same crime they were acussing him on first place.
“That’s what you think. Or maybe not.” Creed put the doll in Wraith’s hand and walked away, smirking, thinking about what to do about the smell he had catched under all the smoke and burned flesh. The smell of the terrorist.

Running away

Logan sat in the little room for what seemed like hours, waiting for some oportunity to escape. At some point, he yelled for the guard, saying that he needed to pee. The guard took so long opening the door, even when he was just outside it, that Logan thought that he wanted him to wet himself. But at last the door opened, and the guard and other two men motioned for him to come out. The new men were both tall and strong, with a military haircut and plain black suits. Special ops, surely, Logan knew them well, he had worked there, too. But it were the weapons they carried what made Logan frown. It seemed electric sticks, but modified. How and for what, Logan didn’t know. He stood up slowly, weightening his options.
“Do you really want to pee, or what?” The guard asked, and one of the men walked in, standing next to Logan.
Logan looked at him by the corner of his eyes. The man was young but seemeed very sure of himself. Logan catched a glimpse of a kevlar vest under his jacket. His dark eyes were cold, and looked at Logan like someone would look at a dead crocoach in his shoe. Or at a children killer.
“Move” He said. When Logan didn’t obey in mere seconds, he applied the weapon to Logan’s body, near his navel. Sparkling energy, that seemed to burn every nerve in Logan’s body, passed throught it, and he jerked and screamed, falling to his knees.
“This isn’t legal.” He managed to spit out, and the man laughed, a cold laugh that seemed false, but was real.
“Legal? We know what you are. A mutant and a killer. This is the lest you deserve. We are going to control you with it. Come on, if you still want to pee, get up and move.”
Still groaning, nerves feeling like if a million fire ants were bitting him at once, Logan stood up and walked out of the little room. The interrogation room was in reality the basement of the town’s police headquarters, and the three men escorted Logan upstairs, towards the bathroom. The guard was in front of Logan, and the other two men walked each in one of Logan’s sides, with those damned sticks pointing at his kidneys. Even with that, Logan would have tried to run if the headquarters and the street in wich it was weren’t full of people. There would be shooting, and some people would try and be a hero, trying to stop him. No, it wasn’t the moment, he needed to wait.
When they reached the bathroom, the gurad opened the door and let his followers go inside, himself remaining in the doorway, blocking it. The military looking men walked with Logan towards a toilet, still one in each side. Logan looked at them and shaked his handcuffs.
“Can’t a guy have some privacy? And his hands free?”
“No way. Are you going to pee, or not?” The guard asked, and this time both men pressed their weapons on Logan’s body, but without using it, yet.
“’k, ‘k, I get it.” Logan fumbled with his zip and opened his pants. “At least look away, guys. Three minutes, no more.”
The two men looked at each other over Logan’s head and shrugged, turning to look directly in front of them. At least it was something. Logan peeded, washed his hands, and the foursome walked back to the basement.
When they accompanied him inside the room, Logan looked at the table and two chairs that were its only furniture.
“Are you going to keep me in here until the trial? Without a bed or even a toilet?”
“Nope, we’re taking you to Quebec in mere hours. You’re goung to be judged by a military court.” The guard answered before closing the door.
Logan smirked. So, they were taking him out of there? Well, then he was going to use that to escape. Even if they’ll take him to Quebec by plane, the next airport was fifteen miles from the town, and in a wooded region. And he knew how to survive in the woods, at least until he could contact somebody and start looking for evidences in his favour. He sat down and started to think about his plan. He could bet that those special ops bastards were going to be glued to his ass, with those damned weapons. But he wasn’t worried. A good agent kept some secrets, even from his family and bosses. And Logan had kept his biggest secret: his claws. Three bone claws in each arm, each one one foot long. And even if he wasn’t sure that it could rip through a kevlar vest, the men didn’t have kevlar in all their bodies, so Logan would be able to get rid of them. Now, the handcuffs would be a problem… He wasn’t going to convice them to release his hands, and he couldn’t break the handcuffs, he had tried. Well, he was going to cross that bridge when he’ll reach it.
This time, hours seemed to fly while Logan sat there, thinking and planning. The door opened again and the two special ops agents (Dumb and Dumber, Logan had started to call them mentally) stepped in and grabbed his arms, dragging him up and towards the door. It seemed like they didn’t want him to pull the same not-moving trick he did before. When they reached the ground floor, Logan realized why they had spent so much time in his transfer. The headquarters were full of militars, while the streets were empty. Less than three hours ago, almost all the town had been there, shouting insults and threatening him with death, and now it was completely empty. Logan supposed that they didn’t want posible accomplices or worse, hostages, around. They took Logan to a military van, and Dumb and Dumber sit in the back with him. Before they closed the doors and the vehicle started moving, Logan could see two jeeps and four motorcycles ready to escort the van.
During the travel, Logan kept his hands between his legs, and mentally visuallized the road and its surroundings. When he thought that they were far enough for the town, he glanced at Dumb and Dumber. They were still looking at him, but Logan knew that, in their position, they couldn’t see his hands. Clenching his theet, he broke the first metacarp of his left hand, moving the tumb out of the way for the handcuff to slip out. Then, he released his claws and, in the same movement, atacked Dumb, who was at his right side, and Dumber, who was in front of him. Logan didn’t wait to cheek if they were dead or alive, he kicked open the van’s door and tossed Dumber out, before jumping himself. The van was still moving, and Logan knew that they would have perfectly well passed over him, but he also knew that they would slow down if they were about to run over one of their teammates. And so they did. Logan rolled in the ground and started to run as soon as his feet were secure on the ground. The vehicles kicked the brakes, and the motorcycles turned around and speeded after him, but Logan had the surprise on his sidech the woods before they catched him. The men in one of the jeeps started shooting and two bullets impacted Logan, one in his left shoulder and the other in his ass, making him loose a little the pace. But Logan was used to be shoot at, and both his powers and the adrenaline pumping through his sistem allowed him to continue his run. Only when he was deep enough into the woods did Logan slow down. They were following him, but he used all the tricks he knew to loose them, and soon they were informing headquarters about his escape, and asking for reinforces. When Logan was sure that they weren’t following him, he started walking towards a zone in wich he knew that were some old logs. He needed some secure place to rest and get rid of the handcuffs and the bullets.
Ororo Munroe was working on her garden, making sure that all her newly planted medicinal herbs were pecfectly sane. She took a deep breath and smiled. She was really glad of her decision of moving to Canada. She needed that: wild nature and loneliness. Maybe she would have moved back to Africa, but her mother’s natal country was at war, and she needed peace after her disastrous marriage. She needed to be herself, whatever she was, not an exotic accesory for a selfish man. Satisfied with her work, Ororo cleaned her hands in her blue overalls and started to get up.
A pair of arms grabbed her for behind. The right hand, with a handcuff in it, closed over her mouth, while the right one, claws protuding between knuckles, threathened her throat.
“Don’t move or try to scream, darling.” A deep voice said in her ear. “You choose a dangerous place to live in.”

A/N: Sorry it took so long, I had problems with the fighting... Hope you like it. Oh, and anything between :: :: means thoughts.
Disclaimer: I swear they're not mine!

Bang!!:

Ororo could feel the man’s hard breathing in her neck. She was taller than him, but he seemed built like a truck, and those claws of his were pretty scaring. Maybe she could use her powers, zap him or something, but she didn’t want to think about what would happen if she failed. Swallowing a huge lump that had formed on her throath, she spoke.
“You don’t need to threaten me, I’ll collaborate with you.”
She heard a deep chuckle and felt the man’s chest ripple against her back. “Sorry, darling, I’m not gonna let anybody betray me, again. Now, move.”
Putting one of his hands around her throath and the claws of the other against her back, Logan pushed her towards the house. He kept his eyes glued to her, not wanting her to escape, but his other senses were focused on the woods. Logan knew that the soldiers were looking for him, and with reinforcements, too. He had managed to loose them for some hours, but he really didn’t expect to find anybody in the woods. He was confused about what to do, and he didn’t like that. When they entered Ororo’s house, Logan pushed her to her knees.
“Stay there, darling.” He growled at her.
Ororo looked at him angrily for a moment, until she saw the look on his face. He didn’t seem angry, he was way past the anger. Ororo recoiled slowly, stopping only when her back was against the wall, knees pulled up in front of her. She saw him roaming the house, looking in every corner for somebody hiding there. He unplugged the phone and even the computer. Logan only seemed to calm down when he realized that nobody else was there. He looked through the window and closed the curtains, then turned and stared at her.
“They wouldn’t hurt an innocent, would they?” He asked, more to himself than to her.
“Who?” Ororo asked, against her common sense that tried to convice her to run, zap him or hide, not give him conversation.
“The army, the police…” Logan answered, mumbling, still deep in thought.
Logan raised his hands to pass them trough his hair, and he stared at the handcuffs. He looked twice from the handcuffs to Ororo, remembering some old jobs and with a plan forming in his mind, and smirked. Ororo didn’t like that smirk, but before she could react, Logan strolled towards her and handcuffed himself to her. Ororo shook her arm, trying to free it, but Logan responded to that with a hard pull from his end.
“Be still, darling… You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?” He said quietly.
“Who are you? What do you want from me?” Ororo asked, trying to distract him while she found a way to free herself… if she only could take one hairpin out without him noticing it…
“Who am I?” He seemed surpirsed, but then he remembered that there wasn’t a TV in the house. Still, she could have seen the news in internet, but it seemed the contrary. He moved his head, not really wanting to answer and get in a discussion about his innocence, not when his followers were near. “Who I am isn’t important, darling. And you… you’re my human shield. Just to make sure they don’t get violent with me.”
Ororo looked at him with fearfull eyes. She, a human shield? Against what? He said something about the army and the police, who was this man? What had he done? Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she tried to summon all her courage and continue with her plan, moving a hand slowly towards her hair, like if she was going to rub her neck. When nothing stopped her, she oppened her eyes, glad that he seemed to think that she wasn’t dangerous. Ororo took one hairpin out of her hair, noticing that her captor seemed to be focused in the window, not in her. She was trying to use that at her favour when Logan pulled her towards him, and just in time, because seconds after that a beautiful vase that was just behind her exploded in tiny pieces. Ororo looked at it and then at the window. There was a bullet hole on it. Somebody had tried to shoot her!
“They’re using silencers, shit.” Logan mumbled, and moved one step towards the window, keeping Ororo behind him. Strange from somebody who just had called her his ‘human shield’, she thought. “Hey, you out there! I have an hostage! Stop or I’ll kill her!” He shouted.
During a minute, Ororo thought that they were going to do as he said, but then another bullet ended the work the first had started, breaking the window glass. Logan growled. Ororo tried to convice herself that it couldn’t be, by any means, a growl, but when he did it again she was conviced it was real. Logan launched himself under a table, with her tagging along, even unwillingly. When he seemed sure that no bullet could reach them, he looked at Ororo like if it was her fault that they were sooting at them.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He growled. “Cammon, where’s the fucking ‘To Protect and To Serve’? Are they willing to kill an innocent?” Another round of shooting, this time without silencers, was his only answer.
“I think that this means yes.” Ororo said to him, and got a little more confortable under the table. More confortable and more protected, too. “What are we going to do?”
“Run.” He answered, with a tone that showed that he didn’t like that one bit. “I could fight, but not with you being dragged along. On the count of three.”
“Wait.” Logan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I can take care of the handcuffs.” She showed him the hairpin. Since Logan seemed as confused as before, she sighed. “I know how to pick locks.”
A noise let them know that the soldiers were entering the house. Logan looked in the direction of the sound and back at Ororo, growling low in his troath.
“Do it. Hurry.” He ordered.
Ororo took a deep breath, forcing herself to block out all around her, focusing on the lock she needed to open. She hadn’t done that since she was a teenager, but it wasn’t something you could forget. ::Once a thief, always a thief.:: She thought. ::If my husband would see me know… :: That brought a smile to her lips, and Logan was about to ask her what did she find so amusing when his handcuff fell open. Without even a thought, he launched himself towards the four soldiers that had entered the house. They shoot at him, but that only served to enrage him more. Ororo watched him, fascinated. His movements seemed so fluid, so easy… It was like he was born to that, to the figthing. There weren’t unneeded movements, and he was able to change them in less than a second, if it was needed. It was like a dance, a deadly one.
Ororo took out her handcuff and watched the soldiers reaction. The first four were in the floor, bleeding, but there were more, much more around Logan now. Nor that their numerical superiority was helping them any. They could be trained for the battle, but it was obvious that they weren’t trained to fight against someone like him hand to hand. Instead of moving like one, as she had seen the zebras do in the sabana, they moved without count with their teammates. That, in such a closed pace like the house, was an error. The only thing they achieved was put themselves in the way of the others.
Even though he was a criminal, he had kidnapped her and threatened her with using her as human shield, Ororo found herself wanting to clap. Seeing him fighting was… beautiful wasn’t the word, it was much more, it was primal, mesmerizing. So much, that Ororo didn’t notice that she had moved out from under the table, and that a soldier was moving towards her. That is, until Logan turned around and yelled in her direction.
Ororo looked around and saw the soldier pointing at her with his rifle. She put her hands up, in the tyical surrender gesture.
“Don’t shoot. I’m his hostage.” She said, but he didn’t seem to hear her. That, or he didn’t care.
Ororo saw him starting to pull the trigger, and reacted in mere seconds. Her eyes turned white, energy crackled around her and her hair was spreaded by an out-of-nowhere wind. The same wind got stronger and raised her in the air. Logan and the soldiers looked at her in awe. Without a shadow of doubt, Ororo hold a hand towards the one threatening her, and the wind changed directions and sent him flying away.
Outside the house, unknown to Logan and Ororo, a snipper was waiting orders. He had had his rifle pointing towards Logan until Ororo showed her powers. Then, he put her in his sight and informed his superior about what had happened, asking what to do. The orders didn’t get long. Hearing them, the snipped nodded and pulled the trigger.


BANG

Interlude II: Crime Scene:

“She’s dead.” The blond policeman said to his companion when he entered the room.
The older man surveyed the room. Luckily, the fire that had made the neighbourgs call the firefighters was extinguised before it affected the rest of the house. The living-room, where they had found the body, was a nice room, with clear white walls and a soft green carpet, now soaked with blood. The woman lay between the fireplace and one of the big, flowered couches. Somebody had fun with her, he thought. The body was crossed with knife wounds, and her killer had almost sewered her head out. Carefully, the older cop got near the body and examined some of her wounds. He would need the forensic confirmation, but at first look they didn’t seem mortal… well, the throat one yes, but the others… If they were done before she was killed, like it seemed, she must have suffered a lot. Didn’t she scream? The neighbours didn’t think something was wrong until they saw the smoke, and they weren’t so far away… He looked around again, and he realized that the windows were double and the walls seemed thick. The house was soundproofed. That explained why nobody had heard the screams. When he was going to look at the body again, he caught a glimpse of a framed picture, settled in a cofee table near the couch, and froze. It was a family portrait, took maybe some summer. The Indian woman, that now lay dead next to him, was smiling in the picture, dressed with denim shorts and a brown top. Her hands rested on a man’s shoulders. The police officer recognized the man. He hadn’t took part in the arrest, but he had seen him in the news and in headquarters. He cursed himself, he should have recognized the house. And the bosses should have protected the ex-wife, damn it, she was the only witness. But that, even as important as it was, wasn’t what had made him froze. In the portrait, one sitting in Logan’s lap and the other standing next to Silver Fox, were two Asian girls, one a teenager and the other about ten years old. Sighing, the cop stood up. Maybe she had sent the girls with a family member or a friend when her husband was arrested. That was the logical thing to do, and he had heard rumours that they were hiding, but then again, why was she here?
“Adam, make a call to headquarters. I want to know why Mrs. Howlett was here, and where are her daughters. Stay here and protect the crime scene until the forensic and the criminologist get here. I’m going to look around the house.”
“Ok, Matt.” Nodded the younger cop, hand already raising the radio towards t
his mouth.
Matt went out of the living room and stuck his head in the basement, where the firefighters were making sure all was controlled.
“Buck, need to talk to you later, wait for me, ok?” He yelled towards downstairs.
“No, I need to talk to you, and now!” The firefighters’ captain shouted back at him.
The cop grunted and frowned, hoping that Buck and his boys hadn’t found what he was afraid they would find. He looked at the stairs leading to the second floor and then back at the basement.
“Gimme five minutes, Buck. Need to look around the house.”
With that, the cop went upstairs, almost taking the steps two by two. He reached the hallway and noticed that the four doors were open. Matt took out his gun and looked into the first room. The woman and her husband’s room. The walls were painted in a sweet cream color, and the wooden floor was covered in Asian carpets. Both the king sized bed and the big closet seemed handmade. Near the wall opposite to the closet, there was an expositor with a katana, a wabizasi and a tanto. Matt made a mental note to himself to remember the criminalists to take those as posible evidence. He also needed to find out if the daughters were adopter or biologically his, since the man seemed a little Asian-obsessed. Because it was clear for him that almost all the things in the room were Logan’s. If it wasn’t for the woman dead in the living-room and the open suitcase, half full of woman’s clothes that rested on the bed, he could have thought that only a man lived there. Strange, indeed. Well, the bag answered one question: Silver Fox was packing for run away. But, why hadn’t she done that earlier? And why wasn’t she protected?
Carefully, Matt opened the door to the atached bathroom. Big and country-like, with clear green tiles and old fashioned bathtub and sink. And, at least, there were sings that a woman lived there. Cosmethic products, a whole lot of them, most almost new and all with one kind or another of strong fragance. Rose, lilacs, lemon… If she used all of them, she should have smelt like a walking perfume aisle. Wasn’t one supposed to pick only one, or at least two fragances and stick with them, just because that? Another strange thing to take note of.
Moving his head, he walked onto the next bedroom. Amiko’s, as a colorful wooden sign proclaimed, hanging in the open door. A little princess’ room, he thought, with pastel coloured walls, carpet and sheets that matched the curtains, lots of stuffed animals and dolls… The only thing that seemed a little odd were the child-made drawings that adorned a wall, near the desk. All of them pictured samurais, some of them with ninjas, too. But, then again, she was probably Japanese, and, given that and her father’s choice of decoration, it was normal. The closet was open, and two bags rested on the bed. The Hello Kitty one was already closed, with some anime girl called Pucca all over it, was open and half full. Matt didn’t know how to feel about the fact that the girl was nowhere to be found.
The bathroom between Amiko’s and the other daughter’s room, Jubilee’s, the sign in the door read, was obviously the one the kids used. Two similar robes, blue, green and yellow, hung next to the tub. Other than that, it was empty.
When Matt entered Jubilee’s room, he thought that, somehow, he had managed to teletransport and end in his teenager daughter, Lucy’s, room. Walls, covered in poster, going from some old N’Sync ones to Evanescense, CDs and magazines scattered everywhere… And two duffel bags, one closed and the other half full. But no girl.
He made sure that there wasn’t another room he hadn’t seen, or an athic, or something, and then went downstairs, slowly. Buck Wills was waiting for him, a frown in his face. Matt thought that it confirmed his fears.
“So, you found the girls, didn’t you?”
“What? No… What girls?” Buck looked absolutely dumbfolded. “I wanted to talk to you about all the explosives we found tucked far enough from the fire to this house go boom. There no girls there, that I can assure you. What the Hell’s happening?”
“Don’t know for sure, Buck, but nothing good… Somebody wanted us to find the dead woman without blowing up the house, there are two girls’ bedrooms with luggage half done but no girls… And, to top it up, it’s the bastard’s house. You know, the one that blew up the kindergarten. She was the ex and witness, the missing girls the daughters…”
“And he’s been missing since noon. Fuck.” Matt only nodded. Things didn’t look good.