Triskele

"So then he storms out of his office," Jordan said, watching Nigel trace a vehicle to a scrap shop in Detroit, "Eww, tough luck on that one."

"So did you look at her personal file yet?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Why should I? Like it's going to tell me anything different," she said sarcastically.

"File was locked?" he asked with a grin.

"Very."

Nigel turned back and began typing, "Let's see what we can find on our lovely Dr. Bayne."

"Graduated from Virginia Commonwealth University," she read.

"Not just graduated. Graduated Summa Cum Laude at the age of twenty-four," Nigel read, "Double majored in Anatomic Pathology top of the class. Masters in Forensic Science, in the top ten."

"Twenty-four? She'd have to be sixteen when she started," Jordan said, "Are you sure that's right?"

"British schools turn you out for university when you're sixteen," he said, "Did her residencies in New York and L.A., was on the L.A. Homicide Investigation Squad for six months, then she went to the FBI Academy at Quantico."

"Why'd she quit?" Jordan asked, looking at the screen.

"Here's something interesting, family. Father, Caleb Bayne, deceased; mother, Natalia Bayne, deceased; brother, Brenden Bayne, deceased; sister, Serena Bayne, 20 resides in Boston," Nigel said, then frowned, "Caleb Bayne, that sounds so familiar."

He began typing again and pulled up a newspaper article, "Here it is. Caleb Bayne, age fifty, was killed today by an unknown gunman who is still at large. He is survived by his two daughters, Bevan Rynn Bayne, and Serena Aliyyah Bayne. His wife was murdered fourteen years earlier in their home. Mr. Bayne was the . . ."

"Look that up," Jordan said, interupting him, "That about her mother."

Nigel began typing and an older newspaper clip appeared, along with a picture of a very beautiful woman.

"Natalia Bayne, wife of prominent financeer Caleb Bayne, was found murdered in her home yesterday by her sixteen year old daughter, who had returned home from the school year in England. She stabbed no less than thirty times by an unknown assailant, who broke into the Bayne's mansion home yesterday afternoon. The younger daughter, aged six, was asleep upstairs at the time of the attack and was awakened by a family servant when the older daughter found her mother's body," Nigel read, "My god."

"Well, I was right about her being a rich kid," Jordan said, "But damn."

They heard footsteps coming down the hallway and looked at each other.

"It's after midnight, who would be here at this hour," Jordan asked.

A familiar form walked past the door, her heels clicking as she walked.

"Bevan?" Nigel said loudly.

She appeared in the doorway and looked at them, still in the clothes she had worn that day, "Yes"

"What are you doing here this late?" Jordan asked.

"I could ask the same of you," she said frostily, "I left Mr. Hanson's tox screens here, I was working on his file at home."

"You've been at home all this time and haven't changed?" Jordan asked.

"Good evening to you both," she said primly.

She walked away and Nigel grinned, "She told you."

Jordan frowned at him and walked out, Nigel following her. They found Bevan going through the files in her inbox, a stray piece of hair falling into her face.

"Bevan," Jordan said, "I uh, want to apologize for. . ."

"No one should have to apologize for speaking their mind Dr. Cavanaugh," she said, picking up the file, "I believe I said good evening already, so you'll excuse me if I don't say it again."

She walked past them, leaving her office door open, and walked briskly down the hall.

"She's not going to let me apologize," Jordan said, "Can you believe that?"

"Kills you doesn't it?" he smirked.

"Why do you like her so much, she treats you like crap," she asked.

"No she doesn't. She just argues with me constantly and allows me to get on her nerves," he said, "Plus she's got a great pair of legs."

"Probably has a great pair of everything," Jordan said sarcastically.

"I hope to find out," Nigel said as Jordan closed the office door.

"You don't mind she treats you like a dog?"

"Woof," he smirked, walking down the hall ahead of her.